#i’ll get around to it but dream of the red chamber is a full time job

[hongluboobs]

hongsang becomes more insane to me the more i read red chamber bc i keep noticing little things that make me want to explode. did you know mirrors are a pretty heavy motif in red chamber? Bao-yu flat out has a mirrored self in the text (i’m not there yet but i know that)

I don’t know if it’s even in a ship way but i keep noticing connections. They’ve both got a lot about being controlled/trapped and false contentment with that situation in their stories (this will find its way to canto 8. please) and the fact that it was THESE TWO to get the dimension shredder egos makes me want to explode

the more i look into these characters the more things i see that are paralleled and similar. The pretty art also helps lmao but i need to know their issues

[x-infernhoes-x]

Dangerous Game- Dominic x Reader [SMUT]

Dominic aka Hot Aswang Leader, Abswang, Zadddy Aswang x Reader

Warnings (?):  Smut, Blood, Biting, Implied Relationship, Implied Consent, Dominic being slightly possessive? M A R K I N G S, Oral (female receiving), THEY BE GOING AT IT NON-STOP

Genre: Good Ol’ Fashioned Forbidden Love (if there’s a genre like that LMAO)

Description: I wrote this at 3:40 am last night while listening to Dangerous Game from the Broadway Musical, Jeykll and Hyde and my brain immediately went, why not coconut? So have this little brain fart I just got when I’m supposed to be sleeping. Come get y’alls juice Dominic simps. Also, reader is AFAB but I’ll try my hand at a gender-neutral one if ever I get possessed by the spirits of determination, diligence and inspiration. Also included a Bridgerton reference there and maybe an Ang Darling Kong Aswang reference too kasi why the fuck not.

PS. I’ve managed to finish this up sometime around 2:45 am today and yes I did sleep last night/yesterday and no, I didn’t spend my whole weekend writing this fic. Maybe.

He knew this was all sorts of wrong from the start and yet here he was, standing within the bed chambers of the woman he burns for more than anything in this world and a strong and almost otherworldly desire that only could be satiated by being with her. Dominic knew that his kind and his lover’s kind would be at odds due to how their nature was as a creature of the night to prey on humans. Although despite this, he was feeling hopeful that his relationship with his beloved would last. As the Aswang Prince, he was well aware that was happening around the clans he ruled over and he also knew of the union of Elisa who happened to be one of his people and her now husband, Victor. He also knew about the bloodshed that had taken place during that time and how it led to the civil unrest and rebellion within the tribes of his kind that rages on up until this day.

The wind from the open window where he had come from seemed to rage on and about outside as if there was a storm brewing. There before him stood (y/n) clad in her sleepwear with her back facing him, dark eyes wide in disbelief and brows furrowed in uncertainty and the Aswang Prince could tell from the way she stood and presented herself that she was thinking about the same thing as him. Shrugging off his coat, he then took a step forward towards his beloved who seemed to be unmoving before him, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, his sharp nails gently running down the tense woman’s arms, back before halting to a stop on her neck and stomach with a gentle yet vice-like grip, his face gently nuzzling against her warm skin, breathing in her scent like a drug.

I feel your fingers- Brushing my shoulder- Your tempting touch, As it tingles my spine- Watching your eyes As they invade my soul- Forbidden pleasures I'm afraid to make mine.

“D-Dominic, what are you doing…?” His lover would ask, trying her best to pull herself away from the prince, breath hitched in her throat, soft lips trapped in between her teeth. “Hindi natin tong pwedeng ipagpatuloy….delikado na.” Tilting her head towards him, Dominic responded to her, breath ghosting over her lips, “I know…Pero wala na akong pakilam kung mahuli pa tayong dalawa.” Before he would bestow his lover a searing and passionate kiss hotter than the flames of hell and the santelmo could ever conjure, his hands relinquishing their hold upon her throat as they made their way down past her shoulders, breasts and stomach only to disappear between the valley of her thighs where his fingers would make quick work of her folds, already dripping wet with her arousal, making his lover groan out in pleasure, his hips bucking against her backside.

At the touch of your hand- At the sound of your voice- At the moment your eyes meet mine- I am out of my mind- I am out of control- Full of feelings I can't define!

With Dominic’s left hand still relentlessly working upon his lover’s heat, he could feel (Y/N)’s hands attempt to push him away once more, her chest heaving and skin flushed a deep red, letting out a fragile keen of his name escape her lips before he took a step back once he felt her tug on his jeans, a hint for him to take off what was left of his clothing, the thick plume of desire that once clouded his mind seemed to dissipate when he felt his own arousal escape the confines of his now discarded garments as he let out a moan of his own once he saw (Y/N) drop her night dress to the ground, awakening something primal within him, eyes drinking in every single curve, dip and imperfections that his lover had. To him, (Y/N) was the most beautiful woman he had set his sights on regardless of what she would say and it was pretty ironic to say that an Aswang like him was starting to believe that God was real and that God was definitely a woman that took the form of his lover who was perfect in every way.

It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game!

With their lips pressed together in a heated kiss that seemed to drive them both wild, the raven haired Prince of the night drew back with a low snarl, his teeth trapping her lips between his enough to draw blood as he pulled away with a smirk, the dark red liquid staining both of their lips as he spoke, voice raspy and deep, “I’ll make sure that you’ll only feel me and only me tonight and leave marks on your skin as a symbol of my love. Sa akin ka lang at ako sayo, naiintindihan mo ba?” his words seemed to send chills down the quivering woman’s spine as he dragged his sharp nails down against her soft flesh, his lips and occasionally his tongue and fangs would trail lower and lower, his face disappearing between her legs, eating her out like a starved beast, his nose brushing against the soft bundle of nerves, hands gripping her thighs and hips tightly with his unnatural strength, his nails dug into her flesh, which left miniscule bleeding marks where Dominic held her, his eyes boring into hers, drinking in the sounds (Y/N) made like fine wine.

It's a sin with no name- Like a tiger to tame And my senses proclaim It's a dangerous game! A darker dream That has no ending Something unreal That you want to be true.

They’ve done this a million of times but Dominic would never get tired of hearing his lover’s needy pleas for him whenever they made love like this, his fingers would tease her entrance relentlessly, watching her squirm and thrash upon her mattress with an almost sadistic delight. He loved how she would beg for him, how her body reacted to his fervent touches and how breathless she would get after he would kiss her. He loved every second of it and it was safe to say that Dominic was proud of himself to be able to make his beloved to become like this and all for his eyes only. After a few more flicks of his devilishly talented tongue, Dominic then pulled away a grin plastered on his face while his partner mewled rather pathetically, almost as if to ask him why he ceased his relentless teasing just as she was this close on reaching her much needed release and was surprised to feel two of his fingers enter her, curling and twisting inside of her clenching walls that made Dominic groan the same time his love had yelped and screamed his name out like a desperate prayer and all at once his fingers came out of her with a satisfying ‘pop’, admiring how her juices coated his fingers and glistened in the dim lighting of her room like ambrosia.

A strange romance Out of a mystery tale The frightened princess Doesn't know what to do!

Does she just run away? Does she risk it and stay? Either way, there's no way to win! All I know is, I'm lost And I'm counting the cost My emotions are in a spin! And though no one's to blame...

“Here, have a taste of yourself.” Dominic stated, pressing his fingers against (Y/N)’s lips, which of course the overstimulated woman took in with such eagerness, sucking on his digits like how she would suck on a lollipop, her gaze hazy and pupils blown, almost turning themselves as dark as the night and that was enough for Dominic to enter her without warning but had enough preparation for him, her moans silenced by the fingers that were still in her mouth, her tongue now swirling around them making him growl against the junction of her shoulder and neck, his fangs piercing the skin there as well before he pulled his fingers away from her mouth, replacing it with his own, not minding the slight metallic taste from the incisions he had left a few moments ago.

It's a crime and a shame! But it's true, all the same It's a dangerous game!

No one speaks- Not one word- All the words are in our eyes Silence speaks Loud and clear- All the words we want to hear! It was an all lips, tongue and teeth type of kiss that seemed to flare both of their senses up into overdrive and making the lovers both drunk and high off of the euphoria they were sharing. Both of their bodies rocking against each other, their hands grasping whatever their fingers could touch, grab and tug at. Dominic could feel (Y/N)’s nails run down from his shoulders and down to his back, edging him to go as fast as he could on her, his hair sticking haphazardly onto his now sweaty skin, hips furiously slamming into her with no breaks at all. Dominic was living for it and this action alone made him hoist (Y/N)’s leg up to rest upon his shoulder while the other one snuck behind her, reeling the woman in closer by her haunches, both of them moaning in delight. At that moment they both couldn’t care less about the sounds they made, the important thing was that they were both here together, regardless of what the consequences that would soon bestow upon them.

What happened next between them was all a blur save for the things they’ve done in one whole night. Dominic took (Y/N) to great heights with him making love to her continuously, he had her pressed against the wall with him taking her from behind, on the floor, on her dresser, on every possible surface and position he could think of down to the point where the two of them did it in front of the mirror where he would watch his length disappear within her and the way her breasts would bounce every single time he would thrust into her, his hand would grip on her throat and would tighten slightly, lips would ghost over her ear whispering a string of curses and words that would give Satan himself a run for his money and his lover would respond to every word he would say with a moan or a mantra of his name and it was a sign that she was close, coming for whatever time that night and he was nearing his climax too from the way he was holding her against him.

I am losing my mind- I am losing control- Full of feelings I can't define! It's a sin with no name Like a tiger to tame and though no one's to blame It's a crime and a shame And the angels proclaim It's a dangerous game!

“D-dom, I-I’m close!!” (Y/N) cried out with tears in her eyes the moment Dominic had thrown her upon her bed, her toes curling and hands balled up into fists, . “Then come with me, my love. I w-want to see you break.” The prince would respond as he pulled her into a tight embrace, still rocking against her like there was no tomorrow and soon enough, they both came together leaving (Y/N) mumbling out his name like a babbling child, her insides coated with his own juices as she shakily held into her, both trembling from the extreme ecstasy they both felt.

Once they both had come down from their respective highs, the Aswang Leader could only pull his face back from its previous position from (Y/N)’s shoulder, his touch soft and light as he brushed away some strands away from her face with a soft smile as the two basked in the afterglow of their passionate love making, the two would merely hold entwine each other’s hands as a silent promise to never let go of each other before Dominic pressed a sweet kiss upon it. “Mahal kita.” He spoke firmly, eyes full of love, warmth and vulnerability that only she was allowed to see as the female responded with a kiss and a soft smile before saying, “Mahal din kita, Dominic.”  And soon the two lovers fell asleep, with their bodies pressed up against each other.

It's a dangerous game! Such a dangerous game...

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (July 6/2021) - Prime Path Renovations

Ponk experiences a setback. He and Foolish discuss Plan 69 together. It’s only a matter of time.

Tommy decides to clear some of the crowded area along the Prime Path by working with Foolish, Antfrost, Ponk, Sam and Bad to tear some unused buildings (and Pride decorations) down. 

After Puffy discovers that her L’Targay was one of the builds destroyed, she decides to retaliate.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tommyinnit

Captain Puffy

Michaelmcchill

---

- Ponk tests out his TNT launcher and attempts to fly

- After one of the test runs goes wrong, Ponk dies in an explosion and loses all his items, including the trident. Sammy Wammy is lost forever

- It may be time to activate Plan 69. As Ponk says, it’s all about leverage...

- Ponk retrieves some items, puts on the creeper head and grabs Warden’s Will, Sam’s sword, from his underground base 

- Later, Foolish comes online and Ponk meets him at the bank, doing his best Sam impression in the creeper head. She informs him that the plan is coming together, but there is a setback (Ponk claims she was testing the security system on the bank with Sam’s voice)

- The time is soon for Ponk’s arm plan. They show Foolish a chest. Foolish opens it and looks at the contents -- the leverage -- with his screen hidden. He’s shocked

Ponk: “Foolish! It was never in vain! I am twenty steps ahead, Foolish! I am a master of chess! I am the master!”

Foolish: “Do you realize that thing -- that is nuts! Does anyone else know about that?”

Ponk: “No! No one knows, Foolish! No one knows!” (laughs)

Foolish: “And that was like -- I guess I may have to ask you later to explain where you got it, but...”

- Foolish gives Ponk some resources

Ponk: “Our time will come. We will meet again. Very soon, hopefully.”

Foolish: “But you realize -- like, what you have, though -- there’s more than just the thing that we could do, like there’s a lot more--”

Ponk: “Foolish! I am a self-centered person, Foolish. It is only for my gain! And maybe yours!”

Foolish: “Yes, but we could also do it for other gains!”

Ponk: “No! No, Foolish. No, Foolish...Some people are meant to be, in the places they are meant to be. Okay? Alright. I will see you -- I’ll see you later, Foolish.”

- They part ways

- Tommy establishes Spud Lore

- He meets Foolish on the Prime Path and asks about BadBoyHalo’s promo codes. Tommy takes down the charity sign

- He gets Foolish to take off his armor as they continue. He has figured out that no one likes rich people

- They make it back to Tommy’s house. Tommy takes his riches out of his Ender Chest and puts them in a chest

- To clear out some room, they start taking down the gingerbread house and Antfrost logs on, telling them to get away. Ant meets them at the house and they talk

- Tommy informs Antfrost that it is no longer Christmas. Ant is willing to help them take down other things, and Tommy claims partial ownership of the gingerbread house

- Next, Tommy sneaks into the Targay. They decide it’s suitable to bulldoze

- Mario interrupts. Tommy informs him that Targay has been “opening soon” for half a year. Yoshi arrives as well, but they quickly start taking it down

- Technoblade logs on just to suggest they tear down the prison

- Tommy asks Ant about his love life and how it’s going

- Tubbo joins the call and informs him of the copious amounts of TNT in his possession

- Tommy cleans up the Definitely Not Blood while Tubbo pokes Ranboo

- He also wants to make a trapped Freebies Chest

- Sam logs on while Tommy burns down the rainbow wall. Since Antfrost is there, it’s allowed

- The biggest challenge is the flag above the Community House, which is immensely prideful and an unfortunate image to destroy. Tommy takes down the Pride Flag. Antfrost simply watches

- They put the blocks in the Freebies Chest

- Next, they go to inspect the prison. Tommy hates the prison. Antfrost states that it would be a conflict of interest for him, since he works there

- Sam appears at the prison entrance and tells them to stop. Foolish tries to bargain with scaffolding

- Foolish puts on Sam’s head and they face off with Warden Sam. Tommy puts on his own creeper head and proclaims that they should get rid of this prison, as the prison system is flawed! 

- Foolish brought pot. Antfrost brought weednip

- Tommy and Foolish go through the prison entrance portal and it gets deactivated by an explosion

- Tommy has a flint and steel and Sam begs them to try and re-light it. Tommy has leverage. Sam says he has something on him that Tommy would like. Tommy takes the deal and they go back through the portal

- Sam gives Tommy stacks of TNT and the group heads off again to the obsidian Nether Portal cube

- They start deactivating it and Ponk logs on

- Tommy takes down Dream’s honeymoon resort (the iron door structure)

- Sam suggests they take down Ninja’s house, but Tommy protests. This is iconic. He tries to call Ninja

- Foolish starts taking it down to test how it feels. They explode the rest and Tommy keeps the bed for good luck

Tommy: “i’m not gonna Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Ninja Fortnite Blevins, Sam! It just wouldn’t work! I’m no girlboss. I’m merely a manloser.”

- Tommy goes to mine dirt in sorrow. Ponk speaks to them, arriving in his Robin outfit. They explore the invisible staircase

- Next, they go to take down Ponk’s pumpkin trap

- Foolish wonders what would happen if they tried to kill the dragon. He says if you kill the dragon, you get “XD” in your name and get Creative mode. Tommy doesn’t want to risk it

- Foolish kisses himself on his elbow. Self-love

- Antfrost’s eyes turn red from the weednip and he hands some to everyone. Foolish gets high and turns into Batman

- Tommy towers up and gets rid of the last of the Y:7 sign. They start talking about Tinder

- Tommy gets Phil to join VC, asking him to tell them about Big Russ

- He calls Bad to ask about the YouTooz codes. Bad says to ask Sam. Sam does not know

- They go to the Hall of Fame and debate killing Drista’s dog. Drista’s dog dies

- Everyone goes to the graveyard by Punz’s backyard and stand on the grave. Foolish says it would be very spiritual for Tommy to blow up his own grave

- Tommy suggests they bring back the Socializing Club. Ponk says it’s the essential oils shop

- Sam runs over to blow up Wilbur’s ball (owned by Tommy) but Tommy refuses, saying he would kill Sam if he did

- Tommy leaves the group to go get some more dirt

- Ponk tells Sam that he lost the trident today as well as all his things

- They chat some more and Sam tells Foolish that Bad is "on grinder.” Foolish asks him if he’s verified on it. Sam asks if he’s spoken with Skeppy about it

- Tommy joins the VC again with a “’sup, bitches.” Sam tells Tommy that Bad is “on grinder for the experience”

- Tommy says he wants more people to be on the server more often and Foolish and Sam start comparing their server statistics. Tommy has 13 days on the server. Sam has 95 days

- Tommy concludes that he must be Foolish’s father figure and calls Foolish “son”

- Once Tommy leaves, the three go to destroy the ball but Phil joins VC to tell them that if they did that, Wilbur would cry, so they don’t 

- Bad tells Ant they should go to Foolish’s summer home to destroy the things that aren’t being used there. They discuss what to destroy and destroy a red tulip

- Then they destroy Ponk’s essential oils shop 

- Bad and Ant argue over who gets claim to Alyssa’s house. They go around various areas debating what to destroy

- They go to L’manburg and take down Fundy’s election whitehouse

- Afterwards, they go down into L’manhole and clear the Blood Vines off of the flag

- Foolish and Antfrost go back to Las Nevadas

- Puffy has heard that some damage has been done. She’s been told that there were several people there, including a certain muffinhead, a furry, and most importantly, a child (and also Foolish and Sam)

- Puffy turns on the slow Able Sisters Theme and logs on, immediately seeing the cleared-out L’Targay plot

Puffy: “What in the corporation is this shit?!”

- She walks down the Prime Path, surveying the damage, until she sees that they got rid of the flag as well

- There is now room for retribution. This seems to have been targeted at her

- Puffy goes to Tommy’s house. She could either destroy Tommy’s base, or cover it in rainbows...or...

- She spies the Big Innit Hotel in the background. They could take it a step further...

- She pulls up the stream footage for receipts. She sees Tommy start to destroy the gingerbread house and learns that Antfrost stopped it. Puffy is enraged

- She wonders what Tommy’s favorite tower is and makes her way to the Disruption Tower

- Puffy gets disrupted by the Disruption Tower and then takes part of it down. She gets Disrupted for a few minutes mining before finding out that it was the wrong tower, and it was the Power Tower that was Tommy’s favorite

Puffy: “Blackstone? I thought Tommy hated blackstone.”

- After walking past it several times, Puffy finally identifies the right tower as the Power Tower

- She gets some TNT and explodes Tommy’s house. While storing the dropped items in chests, she notices that Tommy has Schlatt’s bones

- She still remembers when she was living out of a turkey and the turkey was destroyed. While others helped, Tommy was the one who incited it. The others will get repercussions as well though

- Puffy builds Tommy’s house into a mini L’Targay so that when Tommy uses his house, he will finally be using L’Targay as well

- Next, Puffy takes down Antfrost’s gingerbread house and comes across the bathwater chamber 

- She goes to Foolish’s summer home to put mustaches on all the statues, but is disappointed to find that they already have mustaches. She starts putting a brown hat on the sphinx when Quackity joins VC

- Quackity asks why Puffy is putting hats on all of Foolish’s builds, and Quackity tells her to leave him alone. Puffy informs him that Foolish is her son. They go back and forth about Puffy’s full name (Puff Big Daddy)

- Quackity is not BadBoyHalo’s mistress

- Puffy tells him about Tommy blowing up all the rainbows, so she blew up Tommy’s house. They chat a bit

- Foolish logs on, Puffy asks him why he helped in the destruction of Targay and Foolish says it was character development

- Then Quackity tells Puffy about how Tommy got exiled. Namely, that Tubbo betrayed him (he does an impression of Tubbo). Foolish sneaks around behind them

Puffy: “Do you think it would be wrong to kill my son on the server?”

Puffy: “Like do I pull a Philza?”

- Quackity says not to even think about touching Foolish. Puffy invites Foolish to the call and Quackity tells Foolish that he is Quackity’s beloved and then starts talking about metabolism articles

- They continue chatting. Puffy shows Foolish the top hats and Foolish says they actually used to have hats not too long ago

- Foolish shows off his Batman skin and Quackity becomes the Joker. They roleplay until the Joker suggests they have a threesome and abruptly cease the bit

- Foolish and Puffy head over to Las Nevadas. Foolish shows Quackity the progress he’s made on the sand and the hotel. They keep doing the Batman impressions, now with an added Bane impression

Quackity: Imagine Bane and the Joker kissing

Foolish: Can we do that?

- They talk quite a bit about Wattpad

- Foolish changes into his Superman skin

- Quackity leaves and Foolish and Puffy continue to talk in Las Nevadas

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[obi-wkenobi]

an obikin fic in which Obi is pining (and is hopelessly in love) with Anakin from afar but he thinks he is too old and that Anakin deserves only the best but Obi has his happy ending

Hi anon, thanks for this! I hope the below fic is something you had in mind. 😊

Anakin was next on the Council’s agenda, and from the hastily written report they had received hours before, the meeting was unlikely to be a quick one. They hadn’t seen each other in weeks, what with Anakin mostly touring the outer rim and himself left on Coruscant. It wouldn’t do well for the other Council members to know, but Obi-Wan had missed him. He missed them. The Team.

And if Obi-Wan missed Anakin more than was entirely appropriate, then only he would ever know. There was no need to embarrass himself after all.

Sweat and dust darkened Anakin’s robes as he walked into the chamber, his curls plastered to the back of his neck and usually golden skin a chestnut brown. Tivol was a hot world, Obi-Wan recalled dumbly, with scorching heat that rivaled Tatooine’s, and Force, if possible, it had made Anakin even more beautiful.

The sight of him hit Obi-Wan hard, both by the frantic thud of his old heart and the deep and low drum below his belt, sparking adrenaline in his veins like the crackle of an electroblade. He shook his head, urgently trying to gather his wits after having them knocked out of him due to the simple sight of his former Padawan.

“Masters,” Anakin said, bowing respectfully and casting them a small smile, his eyes lingering on Obi-Wan.

“Knight Skywalker,” Master Windu said, “the Council is glad that you have returned, your report was most...brief in its detailing about your success on Tivol.”

Anakin flushed, the red tint wonderfully darkening his cheeks even more. “My apologies, I was too engaged with the mission whilst there and only remembered the report on my way back.”

Oh, Anakin, he thought fondly, chucking his erstwhile Padawan an exasperated look and privately delighting in watching Anakin squirm as a result.

Master Windu leaned forward, disappointment written plainly on his face. “You forgot?!”

Anakin’s face went from endearingly embarrassed to outright irate, turning a telltale purple as his anger grew. That wasn’t what Obi-Wan wanted to see. Anakin had had a difficult few weeks, he didn’t deserve to be reprimanded so soon upon his return.

“No harm has come from it, surely, Master?” Obi-Wan interrupted softly, stubbornly keeping his composure as Master Windu’s deep brown eyes settled upon him rigidly. “Anakin can add to the report today if necessary.”

A few seats down from him, a baritone chuckle sounded. “Knight Skywalker, your former Master has come to your defence once again. He does that quite a bit you know,” Master Plo observed.

Obi-Wan spluttered, indignant. “I do not.”

“Don’t you?” Master Windu asked, an eyebrow arched knowingly.

Now it was his turn to blush, except when he did so his face turned awfully red and splotchy. Charming on someone as lively and youthful as Anakin, but utterly demoralising on an older man like him.

Anakin peered at him with an odd intrigue in his sharp blue eyes. “Do you?”

“I-I…” he fumbled, victim to a verbal ineptitude that he very rarely experienced.

Apparently, Anakin found that amusing. Those enigmatic eyes shined with mirth and a mischievous smile settled on his face, no doubt delighting in the flustering of his usually impervious former Master.

“Perhaps I am guilty of doing so on occasion,” Obi-Wan admitted reluctantly.

It was worth it. Anakin ducked his head shyly, coyly looking at Obi-Wan from beneath long, golden lashes. They stared at one another intensely for what felt like an infinite moment. Each agonising second made him hot all over, heat making his vision hazy, and he fought every instinct telling him to go to Anakin. To pull him into his arms and to bite at that full bottom lip.

But he wouldn’t. Anakin didn’t want him like that, why would he? There were others who could give him what Obi-Wan could not. Younger, better, people who were able to give him everything that he deserved.

“Perhaps you can tell me about those occasions over dinner?”

What?—

Obi-Wan’s wandering gaze snapped back to Anakin’s face. Embarrassment had returned, but there was also the familiar hardness of determination. Had Anakin really just said that? Was Anakin flirting with him? Right here, in the Council chamber—

“Force help me,” Master Windu suddenly muttered. “Can we please get back to the mission report?”

Obi-Wan slowly turned to look at him, face beet red and mortified by what had just transpired. He rubbed a grounding hand through his coarse beard. “Of course, Master.”

Throughout the remainder of the meeting, Obi-Wan kept his eyes firmly planted anywhere but on Anakin, convinced that should their gazes meet then he would do something horribly inappropriate. Just when exactly had he become this man? Wildly passionate and besotted with a man who could enchant him with his insufferable teasing and his loud, booming laugh.

Oh, how Obi-Wan ached to hear that laugh. It had been too long since he had enjoyed the thrill of Anakin’s company.

By the time the Council adjourned for the day, Obi-Wan had mostly been able to purposefully forget what had occurred hours earlier. So sure that he had misinterpreted Anakin’s request, and certain it was only a result of his own hopeless longing, Anakin wanting him in return never being a possible explanation.

“It’s about time.”

Frowning, Obi-Wan finished standing from his Council chair and turned to Master Plo. “Excuse me?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure, but he thought the Jedi Master was grinning beneath his mask. “I said it’s about time. That doesn’t mean I want to hear about all the sordid details in the morning though, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan gaped at him. Sordid details? About what? “I’m afraid I still don’t understand, Master.”

Yes, Obi-Wan thought, the Jedi Master was definitely smiling, he could see the recognisable creases by his eyes now.

His gleeful reply also gave him away, “Go and get him, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan stared after him as he walked away. Go and get him, Obi-Wan repeated to himself as he made his way to his quarters. What in the galaxy did that mean? Today had been one of the strangest in recent memory. Force, what was he even going to say when he next saw Anakin?

His quarters should have been dark when he entered, but they weren’t, something was...flickering?

What in the Force—

The room was lit by a slew of candles placed around the dining room, light blinking alongside the subtle shifts in the air. The room looked remarkably serene, the candles backlit by Coruscant’s sunset providing hues of a dusty orange-pink. On the table was some food, steam rising from plates, and a bottle of red wine placed in the middle.

Alderaanian wine—Obi-Wan’s favourite.

“Hello there, Master.”

Obi-Wan swivelled to look at Anakin, the alluring lines of his body resting deliberately casually against the kitchen counter, surveying Obi-Wan with a nervous, but amused smile tilted on his lips.

“Hello, Anakin,” he croaked. “What’s all this?”

“Dinner,” Anakin said, grinning when Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I can see that,” he retorted, voice dry and fond. “Why is there dinner, and err—” he blushed furiously, hoping that the darkness hid it, “candles.”

“Because I said that we should have dinner together.”

Obi-Wan tugged at his beard, thinking. “No, you asked if we could.”

Anakin sighed, naked, frustrated affection sitting on his face. “Details, Master.”

Obi-Wan hummed and continued stroking his beard, trying to calm the pounding of his heart. He observed the situation again, considering the impossible...Anakin was not known for subtlety, perhaps...Anakin wanted him? Maybe Anakin was trying to tell him something.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “Anakin—”

Before he could say more, Anakin smiled at him, almost shyly, before walking up to him, and then...then—

Anakin’s lips were on his. They fit together as he had always imagined they would, their lips slanting together and meeting with an intoxicating heat. Obi-Wan wound one hand to cup his head, fingers threading through dishevelled locks, the other hand falling to his lower back, pulling him close. Their lips parted at the instinctive pressure, their tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. Anakin moaned obscenely, the sound more erotic than his wildest dreams.

Eventually, Obi-Wan gathered enough awareness to break the kiss with a wet sound. “Anakin—what?”

“Master,” Anakin panted, the honorific making Obi-Wan groan indecently, “I can’t believe how oblivious you are.”

Obi-Wan scoffed. “I resent that—”

Anakin laughed and kissed the underside of his jaw. “It’s true.”

“I just…” he murmured against bitten lips, “I never thought you would be interested in an old man like me.”

Anakin’s brows furrowed. “You’re not old.”

“I’m sixteen years your senior, Anakin.”

“So? That doesn’t bother me, I’ll want you even when you’re actually old.”

“Hmm,” Obi-Wan sighed, gently biting at the hollow of Anakin’s throat. “You might not feel that way when you’re older and you meet someo—”

Anakin jerked his head back up and kissed him again, desperate and deep. “No,” he stressed, “I want you, I’ve wanted you for years, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows jumped at that. Years? His observation skills clearly needed improving.

“Do you believe me?” Anakin asked, pulling back to look at him.

Futilely, he looked for any indication of deception. It was pointless, want and need sat as clear as day on Anakin’s face.

“I do.”

Anakin surged against him, pressing their mouths together once more, and the both of them smiled in delight as their dinner lay forgotten.

[flowerwrites06]

the tale of agape I — jjk

World Info: There are eight types of Love originated from Ancient Greece. In the Realm of Love, these types have been turned into seven Gods and one Goddess. — Agape (universal): OC (Name: Belle) | Pragma (everlasting): Jungkook | Storge (familial): Yoongi | Mania (obsession): Seokjin | Philia (platonic): Namjoon | Eros (sexual passion): Taehyung | Philautia (self-love): Hoseok | Ludus (playful): Jimin

Plot: Agape is a well-loved Goddess in the Realm of Love. Anyone who wins her approval will become the most powerful entity in the land, standing side by side as a co-symbol of eternal Love. Unfortunately with knowledge of this power, Gods and Nymphs are prone to obsession and cunning. So Agapes’ de facto brother, Storge organises a tournament in her honour. Only the winner will become Agapes’ partner. 

Pairing(s): God!Jungkook x Goddess!OC (Name: Belle) ft. God!Seokjin 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2.6k 

Genre: Gods & Goddesses | Fantasy | Romance 

Tags & Warnings: betrayal, nothing intense in this chapter but there will eventual smut and violence so 

Authors Note: i miss doing a jungkook series lmao so here you go, there were a lot of people during requests asking for a god/goddess au so I’m going on that with a new plot based on the eight types of love. I’m also extremely sleepy and ready to pass out, please excuse any mistakes. And lastly of course, enjoy and let me know what you think! Is this something you’d want me to continue or nah? 

Morning began with soft sunlight painting the Love Realm, making the Cherry Palace sandstone glow like a topaz gem. Yoongi, the God of Familial Love stood at the terrace with the God of Platonic Love, Namjoon. Their soft silk robes flowed in the cool breeze as they watched the chariots of red, gold and blue riding into the courtyard; each vehicle pulled by majestic stallions.

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked, eyes gently squinted to adjust to the bright day. His flowing blonde hair looked almost white from the reflection of the sun.

Yoongi shook his head, heart shaped lips pursed. “I don’t like it as much as you do but this is the only way we can filter out the ones on our own accord.”

“Is Belle okay with this?”

“She likes tournaments. Chose the method herself.”

“Jousting?”

Yoongi hummed in agreement, unable to hide the smile spreading across his lips.

Namjoon chuckled. “Sometimes I think she just likes the knocking of heads.”

“Agape has a cheek to her.” Yoongi leaned forward on the balcony railing. All the heads padded out of their chariots, escorted by servants into the palace. Only one chariot hadn’t arrived yet.

“Seokjin is coming too?” Namjoons’ voice grew deep with slight contempt.

“I have to invite him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You know how he gets, Yoongi.” Namjoon shifted to face him completely. “What if he gets out of control in this tournament?”

“I gave him my warning last time.” Yoongi raised a hand to calm him. “He knows what’ll happen.”

“You can’t kill him.”

“Oh I’ll keep him alive.”

Namjoon shook his head, laughing. “How do you make even that sound threatening?”

Yoongi grinned. “I made her my sister for a reason. No one hurts her on my account.”

“Understood.”

-

Refreshing wind brushed through the transparent crème curtains into Belles’ room as her lady-in-waiting fit her into a warm pink georgette dress for the first tournament. The tone matched her pink irises, making them look more otherworldly than ever.

Angel let out a satisfied sigh after fixing the train. “Lord Yoongi knows how to pick dresses.” She stood up straight and fixed the gold patchwork bordering the shoulder of the dress.

“He always chooses pink.” Belle observed herself in the silver rimmed mirror, tilting her head. Her curls fell over half her face.

“Well, you can’t wear red just yet.”

“Such a strange rule.”

“Apparently when Agape wears red, it’s only for the most auspicious occasions.” Angels’ voice turned airy as her face lit up with astonishment. Her passion for the Gods of Love was admirable and endearing without the added obsession of climbing the ladder. She respected the concept of love in its purest form. Belle needed more of that around her. “So it’s special that you wear it in specific times.”

“Will I wear it for my wedding?” A small thrill tingled through her belly mentioning her own wedding. Belle remembered all her dreams about being the splash of red amongst pink roses and falling peach blossoms in the Cherry Palace center garden.

Angel stared up at her, eyes glossed and face flushed with excitement. “It could be the most beautiful deep red dress that has a train all down the Realm.” She gestured out through the curtains.

“That’d be a bit hard to move around in.” Belle giggled as she shrugged off the pink dress until she was down to her white underdress. “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Watch your left, Eros!” Laughter ensued from outside her room.

“You watch your footwork, Pragma!”

Hearing the Gods’ names being used as colloquial nicknames was a strange sound to Angel but it made Belle grin. She rushed forward through the transparent curtains to the sandstone balcony which looked over one of the smaller gardens. The ones with apple trees and the fountain.

“My lady, wait!” Angel whispered harshly.

The sleeve of Belles’ underdress slid off her shoulder but she barely thought to fix it. Angel quickly draped a silk robe over her body to keep her decent.

The two young Gods of Love, Pragma and Eros dueled each other like they were performing in a playful dance. Yoongi called Pragma by Jungkook and Eros by Taehyung. Both of them a true symbol of their role in the Realm.

Taehyung had beautiful deep tan skin, glowing like a bronze pearl and his sharpened eyes constantly brimmed with bliss over the things around him. He wore a loose silk shirt of yellow and white, half-opened to expose his soft chest while his dark brown curls fluffed and flowed like a gentle garden.

Jungkook was of milk tea skin, sweat on his neck and cheeks glistened, matting his raven hair to his forehead. His body was lithe and muscular adorned in a red and black shirt. The smile on his face had the perfect mix of mischief and pure joy. His feet moved like the genteel steps of a blossom dancer but his sword swings were the strength of a rock sentinel. Chuckles flowed from his lips at the sequence of movements, truly enjoying the activity instead of being full of anger and determination to win something.

Belle wanted to continue admiring him but a sense of her own mischief seeped through. The fountain centered this garden which the Gods did an amazing job to avoid in their flexible parries and attacks. When she noticed Jungkook nearing the fountain ready to avoid, she took a deep breath. “Having fun, my lords?!”

As expected, Jungkook lost his balance and toppled over to the fountain. His beautiful shirt splashed with water and his dampened hair from sweat completely soaked from the fountain flow. From up on the balcony, it looked like a Nymph was pouring water constantly on Jungkooks’ head.

Belle couldn’t help but laugh and Angel tried her best not to follow along.

Jungkook winced at his drenched self; almost a hint of anger on his face before he threw his head back and scoffed out a laugh.

Taehyung looked over to follow the sound and his expression softened when he recognized Belles’ face. “Agape,” he whispered with such a baritone voice that it even shocked Jungkook.

He tracked his gaze up to the sandstone balcony, decorated with pink roses and all-spice flowers. Jungkook raked his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so he could see her. Agape. The Goddess of Eternal Love. Beautiful brown curls and glowing skin against the warm sunlit sky. He couldn’t see it clearly from here but the hints of her pink irises twinkled. A smile tugged at his lips. “You got me, my lady.”

Belle smirked, leaning forward as her cheeks heated. “Be sure not to catch a cold, my lord. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the match.”

Jungkooks’ smile turned to a bright grin. “I’ll be as healthy as a God,” he mused before biting his bottom lip.

-

The day had come for Seokjins’ arrival. Mania: the God of Obsessive Love. This time Yoongi opted to see him personally in the council room. Kiku, the Earth Nymph Queen and his wife stood by his side despite her wish not to see this God again. In the last banquet, Seokjin had less than pleasant things to say to her and Yoongi was on the verge of announcing war. Thankfully Namjoon broke apart the fight, telling them to separate until they calm down.

Black robe train slithered across the white polished stone floor. When Yoongi remembered Seokjin, he saw a plump skinned charmer who saw the world as a trail of possibilities. Today he stood in front of a thinning man. “I thank you for welcoming me back after my horrible behaviour in the last banquet.” Seokjin spoke in his truest charm but it was changed. There was a darkness under his eyes now and his previously plump skin became sunken with age.

Yoongi attempted a smile. “It’s forgotten.”

Beetle black eyes flickered to Kiku with the same deathly sleep-deprived expression. “And Lady Earth, I offer my humblest apologies.”

Kiku nodded in response without a word. Yoongi knew it was her way to tolerating this visit without giving her true opinion.

“I’m happy to be part of this excitement.” Seokjin intertwined his long fingers together like a spiders legs uncurling.

“Both Eros and Pragma will be participating.”

“How wonderful!”

“Jimin will also be giving his famous stories as entertainment with Goddess Gaias’ illusions. I know you enjoy them.”

“My favorites are of ours.” Seokjin always had his way to maintaining the memory of their history. The two oldest Gods of Love. Family and Obsession building the Realm of Love from scratch. There was a twisted beauty about that fact.

“The servants will help you to your temporary chamber in the Palace.” Yoongi nodded to the three servants awaiting his order. “Make yourself at home.”

Seokjin bowed and turned his heel, quietly expecting the servants to scurry after him.

Yoongi glanced over at Kiku. Her entire body exuded a sense of concern and a hint of anger, green vines were twirling around her fingers to relieve her stress. He held onto her hand, her skin as soft as a cloud. A silent comfort to reassure her that it’ll all be well.

-

Thousands of people in the Realm of Love crowded on the wooden pavilions, waving their flags of rainbow colours representing their favourite jousters. Excitement thrummed in the air with that hint of curiosity. Who would the Goddess Agape stand next to at the end of the festival? Some of the members of the crowd were already deep into debate as to which fighter would be the most appropriate.

At the center and best view of the arena, three velvet lined seats were placed. Yoongi sat in the middle with Kiku on his left and Belle on his right. A step lower than the seats were the three non-performing gods, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok, the God of Self-Love.

Once the crowd was organized and ready, Yoongi stood up. He didn’t need to move an inch before everyone delved into an attentive silence. “Welcome to our esteemed competition, good people. The rules are simple. You are to clash with your partners in a fair joust and the winner will provide a favor of their colour to the Goddess.” He gestured to Belle. “The one with the most favors will win the match.” Yoongi waved his hand. “Let the games begin.”

A wave of applause and cheer welcomed the first jousting match between Taehyung and an Earth Nymph. Their gold and silver armor glinted against the summer light. Another trail of pin-drop silence as the jousters had their lances ready. Belle kept her eyes on Eros as most of the crowd did. No one expected him to be much of a sportsman but his blooming friendship with Jungkook seemed to have influenced his new hobbies.

With a clap, the stallions galloped towards each other. In a pounding rise of suspense, they grew closer. Closer. Closer. Taehyung smashed the lance against the Earth Nymphs’ chest earning a wild applause.

He reached the other side and one of the servants gave him a white favor for his victory. Taehyung rode out to the platform where Belle sat. Keeping his half-lidded gaze, he kissed the favor and had it levitate towards the Goddess. “For you, my lady.”

Belle smiled and gently accepted the favor. She gave a short bow to acknowledge his gift.

Another series of matches continued on but what Belle truly waited for arrived around five matches later. She may have counted in her head until she saw the red flag matched with green.

Jungkook rode in his glinting obsidian armor and black stallion that had the most beautiful silver mane. He was a picture of magic. Lances at the ready, the crowd stills with anticipation. The Earth Nymph rides first and Jungkook follows suit a few seconds later. There were some murmurs that the God lost his focus in the midst of the match. They soon found out it was another reason altogether.

The sheer brute force of Jungkooks’ lance nearly cracked the Earth Nymphs’ armor and had them falling off their horse. Due to the leather straps, the Nymphs’ struggling body was still being dragged by the stallion while servants tried to get them to safety.

Belle stared at the fallen Nymph in worry, feeling a bit guilty for the sheer excitement brimming through her body at Jungkooks’ explosive victory. He brought a red favor. This time Belle stood up from her chair as the beautiful stallion closed in. Moving down the step platform with Namjoons’ help, she took a moment to caress the stallions’ head.

“For you, my lady.” Jungkook handed her the red favor.

Belle accepted it, feeling the warmth of his palm and the heat exuding from it. “My lord,” she muttered before turning on her heel. Perhaps it was too blatant of an action for her favoritism but she didn’t care.

Yoongi noticed the flushed pleasure on Belles’ face. He couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his lips and instinctively holding Kikus’ hand. A part of him remembered how the early thrills of a blossoming relationship felt like. The more Belle smiled, the more he felt grateful for this tournament.

Jungkook stayed still on the spot just watching Belle move back up to her platform. His body and soul grew too comfortable in her aura that it made him dizzy. When the Goddess sat down and faced him, he shook himself back to reality. Giving a quick bow, he rode back for the rest of the tournament.

***

Night fell into a deep blue blanket of sky and the remnants of thrill from the tournament celebrated with ale, dancing and pleasure. Jungkook had last seen Taehyung in a bedroom full of the most beautiful Nymphs and the smell of incense. With the look on his face, one could only imagine what was going on in there. He, however, was called to Seokjins’ chamber.

He knocked on the door four times and announced himself before Seokjin invited him in with a chirpy tone.

“Welcome, Jungkook!” Seokjin was about the only person other than Yoongi who could call him that. “I hope you had fun in the tournament.” He gestured for him to sit at the dining table.

“Sword fighting is more my favourite—” Jungkook relaxed on the chair, his tired muscles aching when it was finally resting. “—but I liked the favors idea.” He smiled.

“I’m sure you did.” Seokjin picked up an apple from the glass bowl and wiped it on his robe. “Keep going like this and our deal will go smoothly.”

His smile faded, fingers lightly tapping on the arm of his chair. “Do you think it’s fair? Sneaking up on the Goddess like this?”

“Don’t start getting a conscience now, my lord.” Seokjin chuckled. “When you were begging for your friends’ life, you said you’d kill the Goddess.”

Jungkook tasted something bitter on his tongue at the thought.

“Too bad that friend didn’t have your beautiful dedication to friendship.” He scrunched his nose. “Wind Nymphs, they’re a bit filmsy, aren’t they?”

Jungkook pressed his lips together, averting his gaze.

Seokjin let out a deep sigh, raising his palms. “Apologies.” The kindness of his gaze ended as soon as it started when he narrowed his gaze. The shadows cast under his eyes made him look more like a Demon than a God. “But we’re still on this deal, aren’t we?”

It wasn’t a request open for Jungkook to refuse. If he backed out of his deal then the price would be dire. Seokjin was an ancient God of Love like Yoongi. Entities like him could take a God or Nymphs’ powers, rotting their core soul into a Demon. An animalistic creature with no memory of their past self.

Jungkook was trapped the moment he thought of a deal with Seokjin. All he could do was nod and accept the betrayal he was going to perform.

next chap >>>

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [2]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.3K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Welcome back! I’m trying to post every Monday again, but let’s see if I can keep that up! Honestly, I can’t wait for the next few chapters because I’m going to fangirl so harddd! Look at me... over my own story.

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You came face to face with the prince’s cold, killer gaze. His blood, red eyes pierced your soul, making you unable to move a muscle. The rumors were true. Bakugou Katsuki was a very scary person. You’ve never felt more intimidated in your life like how you were right in this instant.

The prince only wore a red, fur cape with a lousy pair of pants and boots to match. His chest and stomach could be clearly shown off, battle scars raked his body. Although impressive, it proved to be even more intimidating for you.

You gulped in fear.

You had to say something. You were in the presence of your ‘fiancé’ and one of the most powerful people you’ve ever met. But you couldn’t act like yourself. Remember, you were a princess now. You’re still a servant at heart, but a princess now no less. What would the princess normally do?

Thinking back to when you would accompany her to her many visits with special guests, she was always so delicate with her movements and her words. The way she presented herself was so elegant, as a princess should be. A very different image than everyone else at the palace see her as. But you had the rare opportunity to see her in such light due to being one of the only people who attended to her everywhere. So when you were given those opportunities so see her different side, you watched her closely, mesmerized by the way she carried herself. All you had to do was imitate what you saw.

“Your highne-” you bow your head to greet him, but was rudely cut off by his deep, husky voice.

“Kirishima,” Bakugou’s voice boomed. His echoes bounced off the walls of the large throne room you were in. You jumped at just how loud his voice got. Not only were you not expecting him to be loud, but you weren’t expecting that deep of a voice.

A red-headed knight, big and scruffy with metal armor still on, stepped forward. His stance was very broad and strong, hands were crossed behind his back as his gaze was straight in front of him. He didn’t say anything but his presence was enough for Bakugou to continue.

“Show the princess to her room,” he demanded.

“Yes, Your Highness,” The one named Kirishima answered. The knight walked up to you and motioned for you to follow him. Although he was intimidating from far away, the moment you saw his face up close, you could tell from his aura that he wasn’t like his future king at all. You allowed him to take you away. But not before the prince himself had something else to say.

“Kirishima. He will be your personal guard starting today. If you need anything, go to him,” he said. You turned to face the cold prince, but his back was already turned to you. He was talking directly to you but not to you at the same time. The view of his back side was somewhat… sad. And lonely. Well talk about first impressions.

Prince Bakugou had completely disappeared from your sight. Kirishima cleared his throat and you turned your attention back on him.

“Please excuse his highness. He’s not exactly… in the mood,” the red-head enlightened you. The look he gave you was astonishingly unlike the character he first presented to you. When he stepped up, he looked just as intimidating as the Blood Prince. But now, he was all smiles. That intimidating personality vanished into thin air, like it was never present in the first place. His smile was bright and welcoming and his eyes were kind. A character that you weren’t expecting to serve under the cold killer prince.

“Shall we go?” Kirishima brought you back to reality. You hadn’t realized you were so deep in your thoughts. You must look like such a fool in that moment. You nodded your head and followed closely behind him.

On the way to your room, Kirishima showed you around the palace. Where the dining area was, the library, the study, the kitchen, the servants quarters, where Bakugou was staying and finally, where you would be residing for the time being. You knew you weren’t married yet, but you didn’t think Bakugou and the princess would be sleeping in two different places. Probably better for you, though. At least you won’t have to feel nervous at night now.

“So,” Kirishima, once again, interrupted your thoughts. You were standing outside your bedroom door when Kirishima decides for small talk. “What do you think about Bakugou so far?” His question came to as a surprise to you. Not because it was odd to be asking a princess such a personal question, but because that he was addressing his prince for informally. Kirishima noticed the hesitancy in your answer and gave off an awkward laugh.

“The prince and I are like brothers. We grew up and trained together, so I get a little too comfortable at times when addressing his highness. I apologize if it caught you off guard,” he apologized. You waved your hands in front of you, shaking your head.

“Oh, do not apologize. I didn’t realize how close you were to the prince,” you said nervously. You tried to make it subtle that you were a bit uncomfortable with this role that you were suddenly meant to take up. But Kirishima saw right through you, noticing every small change you made. The way you moved, the way you talked, the way your hands fidgeted, the way your eyes were always on something other than the person in front of you. He took in all these behaviors with his sharp eyes.

“I assume that you aren’t too fond of his highness,” he came to conclusion. His comment made you panic more than before.

“Ah, it’s not that! I guess I was expecting… someone different? He’s definitely scary in person, but he’s not as some people describe. He doesn’t have sharp teeth or killer eyes. I mean, his eyes are intimidating but I don’t think he looked like he wanted to kill me. But I guess the description of his scars were accurate. But always very manly at the same time!” you rambled on. You couldn’t have the Prince’s best friend think that you think badly of the Prince. You tried to be truthful but not fully truthful at the same time. How would the princess react? Would she have lied to save herself? You mentally knocked your forehead. You weren’t ready for such a task yet. Kirishima laughed at your response. But then his eyes turned a little sad, while a small still laid on his lips.

“So, you believe in the rumors? He asked. You paused to look at him. Rumors?

“I’m not sure anymore,” you say truthfully. Did everything you hear about the Blood Prince all rumors? People made up horrible things about him and you believed it? Without a second thought. Kirishima laughed one more time and continued to open your bedroom door for you.

“I guess you’ll find out for yourself soon,” he commented. “I’ll let you freshen up and get rested. Dinner should be served soon.” He said before stepping out. Now you were all alone. Left alone to bathe in your thoughts.

It wasn’t until you turned around did your jaw drop to the floor. Despite what the rest of the Blood Prince’s palace looked like, this room was fit for a princess. A gorgeous bed, beautiful view with an unbelievable tall window and balcony, exquisite fruits and snacks for you to munch on, a mini library and desk, a wardrobe filled with dresses. It was just… wow. You wanted to have the chance to collect your thoughts. But first.

A devilish smile slowly creeped its way to your lips as your eyes diverted to the massive bed in the middle of the room. You couldn’t suppress the urge to jump right onto that bed, so that’s exactly what you did. With full speed, you ran right up to that bed and landed on your back with wide arms. The instant you landed on that bed, you sank right in. The mattress and pillows engulfed your entire body. You’ve never laid in something so fluffy and soft. This was much nicer than your bed back in the servant’s quarters. The room was so extravagant that you didn’t even know where to look. Is this what it feels like to live like a princess? You even had your own servants ready to tend to you, waiting outside.

That used to be you. Right, back to reality. This was only a dream you were meant to wake up to. You shouldn’t be feeling so happy right now. Although you knew you could never experience this again after this is all over, you wanted to enjoy as much of it as you could. But you were on a mission, given to you specifically by the princess herself. You felt luxurious, but weird. Like you were in a body that didn’t belong to you.

Then your mind started wandering back to the Blood Prince, Bakugou Katsuki. You heard so many things about this so-called, ‘Blood Prince’. So much that you thought you were well versed in his behavior. Bakugou had ruled the battlefield despite his young age. He didn’t take shit from anybody. In fact, he beheaded anybody who dare to defy him. Once, you heard that multiple women went in and out of his chambers every single night. He didn’t sound like a likeable person at all. Were the things you heard really rumors? From what you heard, the descriptions of the prince weren’t far off. They couldn’t possibly have twisted the truth to make people fear him. Right? How much of what you heard was real?

Although you were feeling guilty about having thought of him that way, you had to remind yourself of the mission that you were on: get the prince to hate you and call of the engagement so you could return home and everything will go back to normal. You weren’t here to be on good terms with the prince. Whether the rumors were true or not, all you wanted to do was go home. The easiest way to do that? Get the prince to hate you. You should do everything a princess shouldn’t. You shouldn’t be elegant. You shouldn’t have to keep your mouth shut. You shouldn’t be respectful. Well, since you didn’t know anything about being a princess anyway, you decided it couldn’t hurt to act like yourself. If it gets you into too much trouble, then you might have to change your plan. But for now, you were going to see where it takes you.

As soon as you got changed into something more appropriate, Kirishima escorted you to the dining area where dinner was being served. The moment you entered the dining area, a plethora of food was presented on this long dining table, ranging from all sorts of dishes. You’ve seen your fair share of massive presentation due to being by the princess’s side, but this was on a whole ‘nother level. This amount of food could be enough to feed a whole village.

On one side of the table, an empty chair waiting for your arrival. But what you didn’t expect to see on the other side of the table was Bakugou Katsuki, already sitting. You looked down to see that he hadn’t even touched his food yet. Was he waiting for you?

“Your highness,” you greeted him with a slight bow. He did not greet you back. Only gave you a glance, let out a low gruff and adjusted himself in his seat. Hmph, rude. All politeness was thrown out the window now as your lips turned into a frown.

“Princess?” Kirishima interrupted your thoughts. He had moved to the empty chair and pulled it out for you. You gladly excepted his kind gesture and sat yourself at the table. Kirishima moved to the side and stood guard while you and Bakugou had your meal.

“Nice of you to show up,” Bakugou said. His comment caught you off guard.

“Pardon my tardiness. I couldn’t figure out which gown to wear for this evening as you gave me so many options to choose from. But I didn’t expect that to stop the great Blood Prince from starting his meal,” you gave a snarky remark back. You looked Bakugou straight in the eyes and gave him a smile, one that was challenging to Bakugou. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to meet your eyes, his crimson stare boar into yours as he drank from his cup. The look he gave you ran chills down your spine. Although a tint of amusement flickered in his eyes, the intimidation made you oversee that small detail. His eye contact was so strong that you couldn’t look away. But why wasn’t he looking away either? For a few moments, you two held eye contact with each other, both of you seemingly unable to look away. You were putting on a front, but how much longer could you do that. Until it was too much, you cleared your throat and looked down, picking up your utensils to start eating.

Bakugou smirked at your reaction, almost impressed that you could hold his stare for that long, and also began eating. Not until he glanced back up to get another look at you.

Kirishima saw that. He looked back and forth between you and his best friend during your stare down. It took everything in him to not chuckle, so he bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from showing any reaction. But he saw the second take Bakugou shot at you. Oh? Was something going on already?

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts and if it’s getting interesting! Hopefully I tagged everybody and if not, please let me know! Also let me know if you want to be tagged and I’ll gladly add you!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon​ @melasnchz-things​ @animexholic​ @bkgwrites​ @sam-i-am-1025​ @apexqueenie​

[laos-soft-bunny]

Icy Charge.

Bi-Han. Smut warning. Bdsm elements, also you are thrown though an ice wall. So unhealthy elements but he takes care of you. Also like heartbreak at the start. Also a bit of Kuai love.

(Translations: Qīnài de: darling. bǎobèi:baby. Wǒ huì shāle tā: I’ll kill him)

————-

Bi-Han paced silently though the halls of the Lin Kuei temple, watching and waiting. The temperature ticking slowly down around him. He was frustrated. You were late. He was a very, very impatient man. The drink in his hand was turning to a slushy mess, the cup forming to ice. Bi-Han’s icy blue eyes were closed, his breathing slow. Someone was here that wasn’t supposed to be. Boots quietly making their way across the floor. Bi-Han’s hand crushed the glass in his hand in one swift motion as he turned on his heel to follow the sound.

Glass crushed to the floor in shards. Bi-Han’s eyes turned even darker in annoyance as he opened them to see who was disturbing his presence. His breath fogged out his mask as he dropped the temperature in the room. Opening his hand he created an ice shard. “Who is here” he calls out sternly. No one called back. It wasn’t you. He knew when it was you. He could feel the warmth from your body when you entered the room. “Brother ” Kuai Liang calls from behind him. Bi-Han turns on his heel to face his younger brother. “What is it Kuai” he whispers as he lowly growls, still annoyed there is someone in the temple. “It’s your Qīnài de” Kuai calls out, racing to catch up with Bi-Han. Bi-Han’s face twisted into a concerned anger. “Where..is-“ Bi-Han began to mutter under his breath as Kenshi rounded the corner into the grandmasters chamber. “YOU” Bi-Han yelled as he turned around.

His eyes widened and he stopped mid sentence as he seen you laying limp in Kenshi’s arms. “bǎobèi” Bi-Han yelled as he rushed over to Kenshi. “WHAT HAPPENED TO HER” Bi-Han just got louder as panic set in. The blood on your face and your busted nose shot him through the heart. “bǎobèi no.. no bǎobèi wake up” Bi-Han pleaded not giving Kenshi time to explain as he took you from his arms. You didn’t move and Bi-Han pressed his cold fingers to your neck, checking for a pulse. “She is okay Grandmaster. She got jumped by the Red Dragon.. Kano got his for messing with her. He got the worst of the fight. Her nose is shattered and she’s okay.. she’s out cold though.” Kenshi began to explain what he witnessed. “The assault was already over by the time I got to her” Kenshi continues and hands your necklace to him. Bi-Han begins to shake with anger as he kneels down holding you close. “Wǒ huì shāle tā” Bi-Han’s voice was now shaking with rage as he stroked his finger across your nose gently.

The next few weeks Bi-Han was very caring and tender towards you. He made sure you were cared for and was cooking meals for you. His mother’s recipes were always amazing when he made them. Bi-Han kept a constant eye on you as the healing process was happening. Kuai took over the missions for a while. while you slept peacefully in Bi-Hans bed, curled up holding onto his pillow, Bi-Han sat on the floor and watched, calmly for once, his mind was at rest. His girl could handle anything life threw at her and he knew it. You snuggled the pillow tighter and made a whine that drew Bi-Han to full attention. Something was disturbing your sleep. And Bi-Han would punch the dream in its face,if he could, if that meant his baby rested undisturbed. Waiting until you quieted back down and slept again before he stopped staring at you and went back to his resting sitting place on the soft carpet. Bi-Han knew it would be time to return to missions with the Lin Kuei soon. Sooner rather than later it came.

Loud crashes came from across the temple where the grandmasters thrones were. A startled Bi-Han pushed himself off the floor quickly and shot down the hallway. Kuai was reared up, hands ready to fight. The eldest Cryomancer was behind his brother in no time, Ice blade already formed as he stood face to face with His lovers assaulter. Kano smirked, and Bi-Hans chest tightened. “Get out of my temple Kano” Kuai Liang had spoken the words aggressively, making the Aussie laugh and step forward. “Another step and I’m driving this shard through your jugular” Bi-Han growled through gritted teeth. Kano laughed even harder and came at Bi-Han. He did as he promised and shoved the ice through Kano’s neck and without a second thought froze the blood the spilled out of his neck, into another weapon and stabbed that one though kano’s chest. Bi-Han let out a growl that ripped through his chest and caused his armor to tremble. He pulled the ice blade through the rest of Kano’s neck. The Lin Kuei’s most deadly assassin bared his teeth and was seething with rage. Kuai wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him off Kano, he was dead and that’s what Bi-Han wanted. Bi-Han shoved Kuai off with a hard grunt and stormed out the door.

You lay asleep, unaware of anything that just happened in your sacred home. Your eyes slowly flutter open as the bed dips. You whine sleepily and reach out like a child for Bi-Han. The room isn’t as cold as it usually was with Bi-Han. Kuai could control his temperature a bit more. It was a comfortable warm with a slight chill. “Not big brother” Kuai whispers as he gives your hand a gentle kiss before he stands and motions to the small breakfast on the bedside table, whispering “eat darling”. He had not seen you leave the room for days and wanted to make sure you ate. You began to eat the breakfast, but noticing Bi-Han was gone from the temple. The cold had settled to a slight warmth, and that was usual. Bi-Han made the temple feel like an ice castle. The older Cyromancer had been gone for hours, he found some missions to keep him busy.

You stumbled out of bed finally, pulling on a discarded shirt from the chair in the room, some black pants and finally the training hoodie you always wore. As the grandmasters girlfriend you had to train the young Lin Kuei. You trained with these kids and they became like family to you. You gave them your everything. But one thing burned on your mind, and that was Bi-Han. He had not been very sexually advanced toward you recently, and it kinda bothered you. You felt like you just weren’t attractive to him. The only interaction was forehead kisses before you went to bed. In the midst of your next thought one of the younger Lin Kuei warriors sweeped your leg out from underneath you and you fell, flat on your ass. He was in his defensive position when you shook out of your thoughts. A small hand was offered to you, even though he was small, he gave all his might to help you up, and it was the thought that counts. You smiled and said “nice one little Lin Kuei warrior. You caught me off guard”. He cheered silently and gave a small bow. You returned the bow and slowly realized that the smell of dumplings filled the training room. “Ah it smells like lunch may be ready, my little warriors” you said out loud, giving them fist bumps. “You guys did awesome today with training” you told the small group. You headed into the dining room.

Same routine every day, except Days had passed, no word from Bi-Han, Kuai was nervously messing with his chopsticks and his head snapped from his thoughts when you and the children came into sight for dinner. You sat next to the other grandmaster and his brows furrowed. “Bi-Han has been gone for almost 2 weeks” Kuai stated, point blank, with anxiety tipping at his tone. He was never this worried. You on the other hand was the real mess, your eyes were swollen from the lack of sleep and so much crying. You missed Bi-Han miserably. You didn’t feel at peace at all, your soul was worried, and your physical exhaustion showed. Bi-Hans absence drove you to the edge of sever depression. You excused yourself from dinner with the children and other Lin Kuei, and went back to the chambers you shared with Bi-Han, tears falling steadily. Sometime soon Kuai had gently climbed into the bed with you, and was holding you as you cried. “I miss him so much and.. I feel so neglected” you said though sobs. You didn’t need to explain the lack of affection to Kuai, he understood, but he held you though the sobs and he tried his best to comfort you. He was unable to bring himself to leave you in this miserable state. You were so sexually frustrated, that was one of the main causes of your attitude and emotions, but you were not gonna admit that to Kuai. The simple touches of his affection was enough to remind you just how lonely you were. You did the one thing you never thought you would do.

Before you could stop yourself, you had your hand tangled in the thick black hair of Kuai Liang’s, pulling him to you and leaning in to smash your lips with his. Shocked, Kuai kissed back, and your hands held him there, though he was not pulling back. You knew that you needed this and he knew it too. You began to relax As his hands rested on your hips, but slowly you pulled back. Shame flooded your face as you thought about Bi-Han and what he would do to his brother if he found out you had made out with him. But Kuai’s mind was already hazy and he pulled you back against him and brought your lips back together. In the heat of the moment the room’s temperature suddenly bottomed out. Bi-Han was watching his younger brother kiss you and touch your hips. A loud growl ripped through the room, almost animalistic. You pulled back and stared in horror as Bi-Han had formed an ice blade and came towards you and Kuai. Bi-Han stomped angerly when he got to the edge of the bed, an ice wall forming to the ceiling. His hands reached for Kuai’s throat but you got in between them before Bi-Han could grab Kuai. Bi-Han’s tone was deadly, and he snarled out “move before I kill you”. You pushed him back and said “it’s not his fault B-Bi-Han. It’s mine. I kissed him first..” but before you could continue your explanation Bi-Han’s hands had grasped your collar of your shirt and he was throwing you. The ice shattered around you as you went through the ice wall. You screamed in pain as you adjusted to the negative temperature in the room mixing with the ice shards that have cut you up. Kuai was already at your side as you landed and Bi-Han came toward the two of you.

The brothers began to spar. “Maybe if you didn’t cause her to feel like she had no choice to get attention and actually feel like she’s worthy of love, she wouldn’t have kissed me!” Kuai yelled at the older cryomancer. “I have to do the work you can’t seem to finish! I didn’t have time to take care of her because of you!” Bi-Han yells back, swinging at Kuai. Kuai ducked and they began to fight physically. You groan in pain and the ice melts that was stabbed in your back. A few minutes later, you manage to push yourself off the ground, shivering as the ice froze the blood that escaped. “ENOUGH” you yelled shoving your way between the two of them. For once they both listened. “Bi-Han!” You screamed in frustration. “I’ll be back to deal with you!” You said as you pulled Kuai out of the room and you demanded him to go clean up the blood on his face. You were pissed off and stormed back to the chambers. Bi-Han was fuming. As he seen you, he met you half way, slamming the door behind you and pinning you to it.

“So you think making out with my brother in OUR bed would help solve everything? Why the FUCK didn’t you-“ Bi-Han began to spew as he had your hands above your head. “Bi-Han! Shut the fuck up and LISTEN!” You screamed as you fought against his grip. Bi-Han actually shut up and waited for your reasoning. “You’ve neglected me since I got injured! I’ve made advances toward you and you’ve shrugged me off! Even when I was healed!” You say, frustration in your voice. “And you haven’t touched me in months! I needed affection! You left me so god damn touch starved!” You continued, getting more angry. Bi-Han huffed and before you could speak again his fingers were pushing past the waistband of your jeans and past your underwear, pressing against your clit, causing you to stumble over your words. “Is this what you want” Bi-Han whispered deeply. “You fucking brat” he finishes his sentence, his words dripping with venom. He wastes no time in pushing two fingers into your tight heat.

Panting you close your eyes as he begins his rough pace, curling his fingers. “Say it” he growls, it rumbles his chest. You stutter before your eyes give away your desire. “Y-yes Bi-Han” you whisper in a low whimper. “You will call me Grandmaster, you ungrateful brat” he whispers into your ear, before he bites your earlobe. You shiver and whisper “yes grandmaster..” you sigh as his fingers start to move more roughly. You moan out, unable to help yourself. You cave and spread your legs a little bit. He pressed his knee between your legs to hold you steady as his free hand grips your neck, and he squeezes. You gasp and whimper, closing your eyes. His icy blue eyes bore into you as he watches your neck and your breathing struggle. With one simple movement he moves his knee, and has you on yours, back against the door. Bi-Han let’s out a loud growl, pushing his pants and underwear down his legs. His cock finally freed, he grabs your head and pushes his head past your lips with no hesitation. You gag a bit and that makes him throw his head back and let out a frustrated moan. He lets you adjust a bit before he begins to throat fuck you relentlessly. “Such a good girl with my cock in your throat” he coos and tangles his hand in your hair. “Be fucking good and you’ll be rewarded” he follows up the sentence with a smack to your face. It makes you moan around him. “Oh such a good little whore.. you enjoyed that didn’t you” Bi-Han said, lust dripping in his tone.

Letting yourself relax as he uses your face, you start to feel super turned on. Bi-Han tangles his hair into your hair and guides you to take his whole cock, making your eyes water. He pulled back out and gave you a minute to breathe, gently stroking your cheek. Bi-Han would hurt you but he still had a heart. “Up” he whispered sternly, offering you his hands. You took them, your knees shaking slightly. Bi-Han pulled you to your feet and in no time had his hands around your ass, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. leaving your clothes across the room. He kissed you as he carried you toward the bed. In no time he had your back on the bed, his hips pressing against yours. “Hands up.. brat” Bi-Han whispered into your ear, knowing how you reacted to commands. He didn’t want to force you into something when he knew a command would make you shiver, and that it did. You raised your hands obediently above your head, and Bi-Han’s own pinned them down, Forming ice around them and locking them into place. You squirmed as his cold fingers danced down from your cheek to your neck and before he went any further he ripped his shirt in two with one hand, finally releasing your wrists. Bi-Han’s eyes watched your pleading ones. You were so turned on, you soaked his thighs. His icy eyes got darker and he took part of the shirt, lifting your head gently and tying it around your head.

The loss of your sight made you hyper aware of how his fingers felt, how hard he was touching and how cold he was letting himself be. He dipped his head, letting his tongue run down your neck, causing the skin to prickle under the ice cold tongue. He found your favorite spot and started to kiss and suck. Moans rose from your lips, as you began to grind against his hips slowly. “You are such a good girl when you are under me, soaking my thighs” Bi-Han whispered into your ear before quickly moving his head to take one of your breasts in his mouth, biting down on your nipple gently, before he went to the other one and gave it attention. The whines falling from your lips were utterly pleasing to his ears. Sliding himself down the bed in a seamless motion, he was between your thighs and the heat from you, caused him to drool. As arrogant and cocky as Bi-Han was when it came to you, he turned to a eager, impatient dom. He couldn’t lick you quick enough. Bi-Han’s hands pulled your thighs apart with ease and over his shoulders. His tongue found your clit and he began his licking and sucking. His hands on your hips kept you from squirming away. Bi-Han dropped his body temperature and the temperature in the room, causing his tongue to send shivers through you that wracked your whole body, a light layer of ice was forming on your hips. When you tried to move away as he was assaulting your clit with his tongue, he squeezed tighter and held you down. His eyes looked up at you, moaning and your body trembling. He dips his tongue into you and pushed in. You gasped loudly, struggling against the ice needing to touch him. His hard cock strained against the bed.

Bi-Han let out a throaty moan against you, as your insides tightened around his tongue. “A-ah G-grandmaster I-“ you stuttered out, your body shaking as orgasm wracks you. Bi-Han’s fingers tightened so hard on your hips, he knew there would be bruises. He kept working his tongue letting you ride out your orgasm, grinding on his face. He drank every drop he could get from you like he was starving. He gave you a second to recover as he cleaned your juices off his face. He roughly grabbed your still iced hands, and shattered the ice on them, holding them and wrapping them with the other half of his torn shirt. “You okay” Bi-Han’s voice was soft and velvet. He didn’t want you to lose your hands. You nodded and gave a small “yes sir”. Bi-Han’s strong hands pulled you to the edge of the bed and had you flipped over on your stomach before he spoke again. “You use your safe word if you need it..what is it princess?” He asked you. His cold fingers tracing your back where the blood had dried. “Fire” you said, loud enough for him to hear. “Good girl” Bi-Han muttered as his hands began to form an ice whip. He smirked at his own skill. He settled back in between your legs, pulling you flush against his hips, pushing his cock into you. You made a loud shocking moan and your fingers curled into the sheets.

Bi-Han would test your limits. He finished sinking his cock into you, and his right hand gripped into this icy whip. And boy did the whip shape well. It made Bi-Han’s cock twitch inside you. The cryomancer watched your back move as you breathed, he trailed the edge down your back, causing you to moan and whimper. It scared you when he made new things to play with that you couldn’t see. “B-Bi-Han please..” you moaned out as he expertly trailed it across your spine. You were trembling. Bi-Han cracked it across your shoulders and you let a scream of pain out. Blood began to trail where he hit. Bi-Han got even harder than he already was inside you, which caused you to moan after whimpering from the sting. He wouldn’t use it long because he was ready to fuck you. His free hand found the sweet spot on your back and his voice deepened as he moaned and cracked the whip right against where his hand just moved. Bi-Han enjoyed your tormented cries but not much longer, he pressed the flat of his tongue to the blood and licked. You moaned loud and ripped the Sheets under your fingers as the blood froze under his tongue. Oh that drove him crazy. He laid a few more cracks against your soft flesh before he discarded the whip across the room, his hands going to your hips in an instant, and he began to fuck into your tight heat.

Bi-Han panted as he filled you completely and pulled the most gorgeous moans from your lips. Still on his cock, he flipped you onto you back. You whimpered as the mattress pressed into the fresh cuts. Your hands went up to Bi-Hans shoulders and clawed him as he started to pound into you at an angle, hitting the right spot, making you tighten around him. “Oh fuck bǎobèi” he moaned shameless loud and fucked you into the mattress. His hands pinned down your arms again as he kept pressing against your sweet spot. You moaned so loud, you knew others would hear you. “Ah fuck grandmaster I’m close” you moaned as you tangled your hands into his hair and pulled him down to kiss you roughly. Your tongues fought for dominance, knowing you stood no chance against him though. He bit down on your lip and pulled hard enough to cause blood to start. The coppery warmth caused him to snap his hips even harder into you. You let out a scream of “Bi-Han- ah fuck GRANDMASTER” as you started to cum. Bi-Han turned your sweat to ice as he began to lose his pace, while you squeezed around him as you orgasmed. “Oh.. oh FUCK” Bi-Han yelled as his orgasm tore though his body, causing him to shake. He pinned himself as deep inside of you as he could get and his hot cum filled you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath coming in a thick fog. His hand reached up and removed your blindfold and as you opened your eyes to see him trying to steady his breathing on your chest, you realized he had his mask on. “Wh-when did you” you began to ask through labored breathing. His eyes looked to you and you could see the smirk playing in his eyes even though he was still breathing hard. “Right before we came. I know you like seeing me in it. Figured you’d wanna see it when you finally regained sight” he said, his hands rubbing your cheek. It’s true he did look so sexy in it. “C’mon let’s get you a bath” he said as he picked you up and carried you into the bathroom. He started the bath water as he treated the slashes. “I love you. bǎobèi. “ Bi-Han whispered into your ear as his fingers sealed the wounds. “I love you, Bi-Han” you responded as you looked into the mirror and watched him. He ducked his head and kissed your neck.

[farfromharry]

Can you write a prince!tom imagine about reader being a maid in the palace and prince tom, who had snuck out, tries to climb up to his room, but accidentally ends up in reader's room while she is alseep as his window is locked, so he spends the night in her room on the floor and she wakes up and sees him shirtless on the floor, and as he is seen walking out of her room early in morning and everyone thinks she slept with him, and he invites her to his ball that his parents hosted and he gets her an extravagant dress made and as they dance she asks him why is doing this and he teasingly asks her " is it every girl's dream to be dancing with the prince while wearing an expensive dress?"

summary: the day the prince falls into a room is a the day the young maid thinks she’ll be unable to forget

prince!tom x reader

w/c 1.8k

blurb week!

a/n - i got a little bit carried away :)

tom had snuck out of the castle plenty of times, that was one of the downsides to being the prince, he could never go out and go where he wanted, so he had to do it secretly.

he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong this time. there were guards outside of his main window, the one he had climbed out of only a few hours earlier, so he had to find another way into the castle without being detected.

the only other open and accessible window he could find was a little way down, and with a bit of poor judgement, he assumed that it was also attached to his room.

he cursed himself as soon as he hit the cold stone floor of the room, noticing that this was most definitely not his chambers.

he rose from the ground, rubbing the sore spot on his arm where he’d landed on the floor. that’s when he noticed you in the small bed.

he didn’t recognise you at all, but from the size of the room and the lack of decoration and warmth, led him to believe you must’ve been one of the maids.

he knew he should leave, and stop staring, but right now he was captivated by you. he thought you were absolutely gorgeous and he made a mental note to look for you in the castle more often.

in his defense, he did try and leave the room, but he noticed the swarm of guards outside and had to decide against it. he promised himself that he’d be up and out of your room before you even knew he’d ever been there.

so, he made himself comfortable on the floor, using his jacket as a pillow and stealing a folded blanket he found on a random chair to keep him warm.

tom was incredibly uncomfortable all night. anyone would be while laying on a stone floor in a random room, when he could be in his large comfy bed.

a shrill scream woke him up from his restless sleep, the male shooting up from his spot and noticing you, the girl who’s room he had snuck into. he was quick to place his hand over your mouth, silencing you from making any other noise that could alert someone in the castle.

“i need you to stay quiet,” he said, hesitantly removing his hand from your mouth. your eyes were still wide as you stared at him, your hands shaking at the idea of the prince being in your room.

“why are you- what are you-“ you couldn’t get your words out quick enough, tom taking pity on the scare he’d given you.

“i climbed into the wrong window last night, and i couldn’t get out,” he explained. you nodded, slowing your breaths until your heart was back beating at a regular pace.

only in the silence did you realise he was shirtless, his toned abdomen on full display for you to gawk at.

“i- um,” he laughed at your stuttering, noticing your eyes locked on his body.

“what’s your name, i haven’t seen you around here before.”

you gulped, finally letting your eyes drift back to his, seeing an amused twinge.

“i’m y/n.”

you explained to tom that your role in the castle was simply a maid, but you spent most of your time down in the kitchen with the older ladies. when he asked why he didn’t get an answer he wanted, but rather an upsetting one.

“they’re older, so they want to protect me from the guards’ punishments.”

tom’s heart sank, a frown etching its way onto his face. he was never aware of the way the guards would treat the staff, hoping that his own personal ones would never, unless they wanted a scolding.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t know they did that.” you shrugged, playing with a loose thread on your nightgown. you were grateful that the night before you’d chosen a more modest one, just so you didn’t have another reason to be nervous in front of the handsome prince.

“you should go,” you said, not missing the slight look of offense that crossed his face. “we were told the king and your family had a trip today, at 10?”

tom’s eyes widened, a quiet curse mumbled under his breath.

“i’m sorry again, for falling into your room,” he reiterated, gathering his discarded clothes into a pile in his arms.

“it’s okay,” you giggled, opening the door for him because of his full hands.

“i’ll see you soon, y/n,” he pressed a parting kiss to your cheek, noting the slight tint of red that arose.

the princes attempts at being sneaky had failed once again, after being spotted sneaking out of your room, clothes in hand, by one of his beat soldiers.

the blonde man snickered, raising his eyebrows at the young prince, who simply punched him in the arm and made his journey back to his room.

tom did as he said he would, he searched for you in the castle more and more often. the two of you were now having more frequent conversations, in the breaks between you both working.

due to your conversation a few days ago, tom knew exactly where to look for you when he wanted to ask something.

there were murmurs and squeals from the maids just slightly older than you when tom entered the kitchen, strutting right over to your side.

“hi,” he greeted, stopping in place next to you. you and a few of the cooks furrowed their eyebrows, the royals almost never stepped foot in the kitchen.

“your highness,” you responded, politely tilting your skirt in acknowledgment, “what are you doing in here?”

he took your hand from where it rested on the table, running his thumb over your knuckles and flashing you a smile.

“come to my parents' ball with me,” he said. your eyes widened at how it sounded like a demand. he realised how it sounded and shook his head. “you don’t have to, i-“

he laughed at himself, finding it hard to believe he was getting nervous while talking to a girl.

“please will you come to the ball with me, as my date?” you heard a few synchronized gasps from the older women in the room. heart beginning to race in your chest.

you grasped his hand, and much to the women’s dismay, you dragged him out of the room and into a quieter area, where you could be sure no one was listening in.

“are you serious?” you asked, trying to find out if he was joking.

he pouted, squeezing your hand gently. “i’m completely serious, i want you to come with me.”

a smile broke out onto your face, making the prince’s heart beat slightly faster.

“okay, i’d be honoured.”

the next few days were filled with unexpected chaos. feeling as though he had to get you the most extravagant dress he could pay for, tom had you getting measured by the queen’s seamstress.

the dress was made in no time, tom standing right by your side as you were given the chance to admire it on your body for the first time.

“what do you think?” you asked, motioning to the dress with your arms. tom was in awe. you took his silence as a negative, laughing painfully and trying to ignore the way the dress made you feel.

“you don’t like it, i-it’s okay, neither do i-“ you rambled.

“you look incredible, you’re so beautiful y/n,” he gushed. your eyes widened and your body grew hot. nerves flooded your body and you suddenly became a rambling, but shy mess. tom of course found it adorable.

“this is the one, mary,” he confirmed, noticing your small smile when you looked at the flowy material in the mirror. tom shuffled over to you, placing his hands on your waist and his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror.

“you’re going to be the prettiest lady at the ball.” he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, your heart fluttering as you made eye contact.

“thank you, your highness.” he shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“you don’t have to call me that, how many times do i need to tell you?” he teased, poking your stomach to tickle you.

“force of habit,” you defended. you didn’t even notice the adoring looks that mary was sending your way, watching how the prince interacted with you. she’d never seen him this happy since he was a small boy, and she was glad he’d found his happiness again.

the ball felt like it was months away, but it came all too soon, and now here you were, decked out in a gorgeous, expensive, gown, looking like the rest of the royalty in the room.

“care to dance, m’lady?” you giggled at tom’s formalities, but nevertheless nodded, taking his outstretched hand and letting him guide you into the correct position for the dance.

you and tom had grown much closer since the time he fell into your room accidentally, finding more and more time to spend with each other. however, as of late you’d been getting more and more insecure. wondering why someone with tom’s status would want to spend time with someone of yours.

“your hig-“ tom gave her a look, warning her about finishing his title, something he’d been doing for weeks with you. “sorry, tom, why are you doing this?” his brow furrowed, cocking his head in confusion.

“isn’t it every girl's dream to be dancing with the prince while wearing an expensive dress?” he teased. except you didn’t pick up on the teasing tone, instead believing that he was just being cocky. he noticed your face fall and he was quick to apologise. “i was kidding, i’m really not that full of myself.”

guilt instantly took over and you frowned, looking into his eyes to try and decipher any emotion you could, scared you’d hurt his feelings.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have-“ he smiled, pulling you impossibly closer to him while you danced.

“it’s okay,” he promised. “i really like you, that’s why i’ve been around so much.”

you sighed, a small smile creeping onto your face. leaning forward, you rested your forehead against his, the close proximity making you both grin.

“what about your parents?” you asked. you had a rough idea on the king and queens opinion on the ‘servants.’ the queen being more lenient than the king.

“i don’t care what they think, if my mother knows i’m happy with you, she won’t interfere.”

he lifted his hand from yours, coming to stroke your cheekbone with his thumb. “ignore my title, and let’s just try this.”

he didn’t let your silence scare him, but he let you have a chance to think it through.

“okay, my prince.” he rolled his eyes, ignoring the prying eyes of the towns people, kissing you softly.

“just think, all of this because i fell into your room.”

you giggled, pecking his lips again. “feel free to do it again, anytime.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @drie-the-derp @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @iwearheadphones @kerrswriting @geminiparkers @blossomparkers @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys @itstaskeen @icyhollands @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @starkweasley @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @dummiesshort

[ectstasy]

༻𝕰𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖞𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉༺

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀɴɢ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ x Qᴜᴇᴇɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.7ᴋ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱʏ, ʀᴏʏᴀʟᴛʏ ᴀᴜ,

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴛᴜᴀʟꜱ

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ. ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴜxᴜʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ. ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ, ʀᴇQᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ. ᴏɴᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ. ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʏ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ɴᴇᴄᴋʟᴀᴄᴇ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ. ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ 3 ʟᴏɴɢ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜰᴀʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɪᴏʀ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴠɪꜱɪᴏɴɪɴɢ.

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ, ɪ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɪ’ᴍ ᴘʟᴀɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ + ᴀ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ 🤪

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The young queen sat on her throne with her legs crossed while she did her duties of solving diverse problems amongst the subjects of her kingdom. Her facial expression would seem solemn with a glance. But if you looked into her eyes, you would perceive the anguish she hid. The sadness establishing because of the disgrace of being an unwedded queen. Only a few cared about this because she was a great queen unaccompanied. She had all the queenly qualities such as generosity, intelligence, hardworking and more. Despite that, it still bothered her. She longed to have someone by her side. It wasn’t like nobody wanted to marry her. It was quite the contrary. Many princes and kings were craving to marry her. But there was one similarity that they all shared. They didn’t truly love her. They only loved the status she possessed. The skies of dusk faded into night, signaling her duties finishing for the day. She sat up from her throne and walked towards her chamber with two of her guards escorting her.

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When she set her foot inside her room, the maids that were assigned to ensure that her room would be clean and cozy when she returned after a long day of work greeted her with warmth. “Oh! Your highness Y/N! We were finishing up fluffing your pillows! Is there anything else you would like us to do before we leave you alone? One maid inquired with a smile.” “No. I’ll be fine.. I’ll inform you if I need anything later,” Y/N replied in a soft tone as she picked up the silk robe and towel that was folded neatly and placed on her bed. The two maids nodded and gathered up their cleaning supplies. “By the way. I hope you enjoy the rose milk bath we prepared for you today!” Y/N’s features lit up when she heard rose milk. She adored roses and had many throughout her kingdom. Especially the pink and red ones. She ran into the bathroom and locked the door. She stripped bare of her clothes and soaked herself inside of the basin that was filled with rose milk and rose petals. Her nostrils drowning in the scent of the roses. One of the best ways to calm your mind and nerves after a long and boring day of work.

After a while of soaking, she felt her skin getting wrinkly, letting her know it’s time to get out. She hopped out of the basin and walked towards the shower, where she washed off the rose milk residue and the flower petals that clung to her skin. As she was showering, she heard a knock on the door. Confused, she quickly dried her skin, tied her robe, and exited the shower. When she exited, she saw the two guards that were tasked to shield her from any threats, standing there, a smirk plastered on both of their faces. Y/N immediately clutched her robe and thought the worst. This little action making one of them offended and the other burst out laughing. “Yah! We will not touch you inappropriately or anything!” The guard, who had a pink rose tucked into his hair, exclaimed, taking major offense. “Well then, don’t smirk like that! You two are lucky I didn’t have proper clothing on or you both would’ve been severely injured.” Y/N argued back. “Well, what we wanted to tell you is there is, there is a full moon outside.” She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so?” The pink rose guard facepalmed himself and looked at the other guard, who, instead of a pink rose, had a red rose tucked in his hair. “Jung. Wooyoung. Didn’t you tell her about the enchantress?!” Wooyoung looked at Yeonjun with disbelief. “Bro. You told me-Okay, you know what. Forget this. What we’re trying to say is, there is an enchantress who comes out every night of the full moon, she has the powers to grant anything, judging by your saddened expressions, both Yeonjun and I thought you would need to visit her because there is something you want but you can’t get.” Y/N was baffled at how observant they both were. “Wait.. when you say anything. Do you mean ANYTHING? Even if it’s not an item, but…. a person?” Yeonjun nodded. “When he said anything, he meant it.” Y/N looked down, then looked back at Wooyoung and Yeonjun. If this enchantress could grant her greatest desire. She will pay any price.

“Since it’s the night of the full moon? Do you think I could meet her right now?”

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“Yeonjun, are you sure we are going the right way?!” Wooyoung questioned, feeling unfamiliar with his surroundings. “It has to be. I’m pretty sure we need to walk further to get to her shack.” Yeonjun responded, making Wooyoung a tad bit consoled. Wooyoung gripped onto his queen’s hands to help her walk through the gloomy forest so he could prevent her from tripping on a random branch or rock. Yeonjun looked back at Y/N and Wooyoung to make sure they were okay. The slight glare of the moon reflected on her face, making Yeonjun distinguish her fright. “Woo, don’t you think it would’ve been less unsettling for all of us if you’d brought a lantern?” A pout appeared on Wooyoung’s face. “Why do you keep blaming me for everything! I try my best, you know?” Yeonjun sighed. “I guess I have to give you that.” They continued walking until they finally approached an old but mysterious-looking shack. Yeonjun was about to open the door but, he got jump scared by a dog ferociously barking at him. “AHHHHHHHH.” He screamed. Wooyoung also screamed, but he acted quickly and pulled out his sword from his belt to protect the queen. “Oh, no need for that. Jinx sit!” a woman commanded the dog. The dog immediately obeyed her commands, earning himself a treat. “Okay, go inside.” She opened the door to her shack. The dog followed and went inside to lie down on his bed. The lady then looked at the three and smiled softly. She had this eerie but sweet look that didn’t fail to make Y/N curious about her. “Oh... Wooyoung and Yeonjun. I see you’ve returned with her.”

“Come in.”

She led them towards a table decorated with many peculiar and pretty-looking items such as skulls, gems of all sorts, a glass orb, and more. She sat down at the back of the table while Y/N sat On the opposite side. Wooyoung and Yeonjun decided it was best if they returned outside to give the two privacy and guard the place because you never know what lurks around at the night. “I never thought I would see a queen in my lifetime... I am indeed honored by your presence, your majesty.” The woman bowed. “Thank you... Uh…” a small smile crept on the woman’s face. “Call me Lucinda. So… your majesty. What May I help you with? Do you want to know about your future? Gain a particular item? Change your physical appearance? Or is it something else?” Y/N gulped, feeling embarrassed to admit it. She tried and explained it in the most secretive way she could think of. “My purpose of coming here is because… I want my childhood dream to come true.” Y/N began reminiscing about all those times she used to be fascinated by the romantic fairy tales she used to skim through as a child. She hoped to always meet her prince and live a happily ever after. But sadly, fate didn’t work out the way she wanted it to. A smirk appeared on Lucinda’s face. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Lucinda knew. But to make her comfortable, Lucinda acted like she was oblivious to the genuine desire of Y/N. “Okay, your highness.. whatever you say.” Lucinda reached her hands for a box that was tucked in one of the drawers. She placed the box in front of Y/N and opened it, revealing a glass beaded necklace with the pendant of a red heart. “Take this necklace and do as I say. Once the procedure’s concluded, your greatest desire will shift to live.” Y/N took the necklace and looked at Lucinda for the rules. “Alright… step one, Collect the rainwater from a stormy day. Rain from the night will not work. Make sure the water is clean, it can mess up a part of the desire. Step two, take a small amount of blood and mix it with the rainwater. The blood could be from anything or anyone besides you. Be careful with whom’s blood you choose though... As it can also cause a big impact on the desire. Step three, take the petals of your favorite flower and soak the petals inside the mixture. Step four, In a candle-lit room, dip the necklace in the mixture for 8 minutes, and in that time focus on nothing besides your desire. Last and final step, put the necklace on and go to sleep.” Y/N nodded as she took in the information, eager to begin. “But before you begin the ritual, keep these things in mind. First, you must do these tasks without the help of your servants. Second, you can’t tell any living being your desire. This must stay with only you. Third and last rule do not under any circumstances wear the necklace without completing the ritual as it could have serious consequences, worst one being losing your life.”

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Day 1:

It’s been a week since she visited the enchantress. Y/N wanted to start with the ritual as soon as possible, but to her misfortune, the skies were clear. Not one rain cloud in sight for the entire week. She continued doing all her duties, but a guard running full speed inside the courtroom interrupted her. “Your majesty! The storms are pouring heavily outside!” She perked up from her throne when she heard the news. It was time to begin. “Thank you for informing me.” She turned towards her brother, who sat on the throne to the left of hers. Confused at her sudden happiness. “Hwa Hwa, please do me a favor and look after my duties... I have some personal issues I must tend to..” Seonghwa nodded and smiled at Y/N. “Of course. Take your time, sister.” She returned a smile towards her brother. “Wooyoung, Yeonjun, please accompany me.” Her two most trusted guards obeyed her and followed her to her chambers.

When she walked inside, she saw the same maids as last time tidying up her room. “Oh, Queen Y/N! What may we help you with?” The same maid as last time asked in a sweet voice. “Sweet Mya, please be a dear and get me a raincoat.” Mya nodded and went to her closet. It didn’t take one minute for Mya to come back with a pale pink raincoat. “Here you go!” she said as she handed Y/N the coat and some boots to match. Y/N took it with a smile. “Do you guys need any?” Y/N asked Yeonjun and Wooyoung. “No, it’s okay! We have our armor protecting us.” Wooyoung assured her. The three set off into the rose garden, Y/N had a glass bottle in hand to collect the rainwater. Y/N placed the hood on her head to protect her hair and went out in the rain. She held the bottle out so it could be filled with the rainwater. “Y/N!” Wooyoung shouted from the shade. Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Why didn’t you use the water that was running from the roof?”. She looked up at the shelter the two were standing underneath and he was right. Plenty of water leaked and it was definitely more convenient than standing in the rain. But she remembered Lucinda’s words. “Make sure the water is clean, it can really mess up the desire.” Not willing to risk any chances. She shouted back at Wooyoung responding to his question. “I’m already drenched by the rain, that would mean nothing if I just followed what you told me.” Yeonjun nodded in agreement. “True,” Wooyoung said also agreeing. When the bottle reached its brim, Y/N closed the cap tightly onto it and ran to the shelter.

“Step one, completed”

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Day 2:

Y/N stared at the bottle of rainwater in her hand as she thought about how she was going to proceed with the next step. “Take a small amount of blood and mix it with the rainwater. The blood could be from anything or anyone besides you. Be careful with whom’s blood you choose, though. As it can also cause a big impact on the desire.” She knew she had to be wise when doing this step. Who’s blood should she mix with the rainwater? With an exasperated groan, she rubbed her temples. She entered the courtroom and went towards her brother, who was in his usual part of the room. She ran towards him with a pout and laced her arms around him, embracing him in a side hug. “Woah there, everything alright Lil sis?” He said as he patted her back. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” Y/N said in a dejected tone, making her brother worried. “What do you mean? Is handling the kingdom too much?” She shook her head no. “It’s not that brother..it’s something else..” Seonghwa nodded. “If you need a break, I got you. Go rest, I can see after the kingdom for a day.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “Really? You would do that!?” He nodded and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Y/N, you’re my little sister. I would do anything for you.” He smiled at her. “Thank you so much, Hwa! You are the best big brother anyone could ask for. Love you!” She kissed his cheek and ran towards the exit of the court. She gestured Wooyoung and Yeonjun to follow her again. They went outside where they saw the charioteer feeding his horse some carrots. “Mingi!” She shouted gaining his attention. “Ah!Y/N!Where is your destination for today?” Y/N thought for a minute. “The market please.” Mingi nodded and opened the carriage’s door. “Hop in!”

When the three were situated comfortably in the carriage, Yeonjun asked the queen. “Why did you choose the market?” Y/N shrugged. “I honestly have no reason. It feels right.”

The carriage stopped in the market area. Settled in were many shops. All selling items of different varieties. As she walked through, many people bowed to show their respect towards her. “Wooyoung, can you please get us and yourself something to eat?” Y/N asked Wooyoung as she handed him a wad of cash. “Of course, anything specific?” Y/N had a mental fight with herself as she decided what to eat. After a couple of seconds, she finally decided a piece of chocolate cake would be nice as she’s eaten nothing sweet in a while. “Get me some churros, please! I heard they got fantastic ones here!” Yeonjun exclaimed with a cute smile plastered on his handsome face. “I’ll take the same. How about you Mingi?” Wooyoung asked, turning his gaze to Mingi. “Some carrots and a cupcake, please!” They all thanked the queen for her benevolence, Wooyoung then left to go to the shops that had the treats. Y/N stood there and glanced around. Her sight was captivated by a man, a man bringing a bag of food for someone who looked homeless. She slowly crept closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. “Thank you so much... you don’t understand how much this would help me..” The man smiled. “Of course! Anytime! If you need anything, stop by me! I will always be happy to offer you some freshly baked pastries!” The man then turned to leave for his shops. Y/N couldn’t help but feel curious. “Yeonjun, I’m going over there to check out those shops. Stay here! I’ll be back!” Before Yeonjun could respond, Y/N left, giving him no say.

Y/N was now in front of a shop called “Sunshine’s Sweets.” She stood outside for a while, contemplating whether she should go in or stay out. She concluded she would go inside. When she opened the door, the noise it made startled the man. He quickly wiped his tears and faced her. “Good day ma’am! What can we-Oh my god!? Your highness! It’s an honor to meet you!” He bowed. Y/N looked at the man with concern. In a soft voice, she asked. “I hope I’m not being invasive, but what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The man’s face turned pale when she asked him this. He let out a heavy sigh as he sat on his stool. “Well… My business has been going down recently. I barely make any profit these days because I can’t stand to see homeless people suffer, also nobody comes to my shop anymore..” Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “Why? Your treats look pretty tasty.” With a frown, he told her the reason. “People think I’m scamming them because I give the homeless people free food.” Y/N had to stop herself from rolling her eyes with aggravation. People can be so irritating sometimes. “I’m sorry this happened.. smile, but may I ask you something?” She asked, making the man perk up. “Anything!” She took a deep breath before asking, “Do you regret any of this?” He looked at her, confused. “What do you mean.” “I mean giving out the food. Do you regret it?” The man smiled. “If I had to do it again, I would. Seeing the smiles of the people I helped makes me euphoric..” Y/N felt very satisfied with his answer. His blood was pure kindness. “What’s your name?.” “Jeong Yunho.” With a smile, she offered him an opportunity, but with one condition. “Yunho. You are a good person. I am willing to help your business go back to how it was, if not even better. But with one request.” He widened his eyes. “What is it? I’m willing to sell my soul to you if that is it!” She giggled. “Your lucky it’s not. But the request is strange.” Yunho smiled. “Strange is a word I’m not afraid of!”

“Give me a small sample of your blood. As strange as it sounds trust me.”

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Day 3 (last day):

Y/N finally could return to her duties of ruling her kingdom because this is a step she planned to do in the night. She didn’t know whether this decision was going to have an impact or do nothing at all. But she wasn’t taking any chances. She always preferred night over day. Not only does night come with rest, but it also comes with a calm but mysterious atmosphere. After a while of sitting on the throne and making decisions that were best for her and her kingdom, the night finally made its entrance. Before she went to her chambers, she visited her garden. The guards weren’t weirded out by her visiting her garden in the middle of the night because this was a usual occurrence. She loved to see how the moon would glisten against the rose petals. After a couple of minutes of admiring the beauty of the roses, she plucked one. She scrutinized it, but this seemed to be dirty. She placed that one aside, knowing what to do with them, so she didn’t waste the pretty flowers. Again, she plucked another, but this one seemed to be ripped. She sighed and cast it aside. She hoped it won’t take a while to find the perfect rose. After five more roses with a problem such as ripped or dirty, finally, she found the perfect one. The 8th rose had no defects. It was perfect. She squealed in excitement. She picked up the basket of roses and ran towards her room.

When she unlocked her room, she quickly went into action. She took out all the items and set them neatly on the table. As Lucinda said, she took out the candles that she had saved for this very moment and lit them ablaze. After doing so, she shut off all the lights and closed the curtains so the only visible light could be the lights of the candles.

Now it was time.

After creating the mixture, she soaked the necklace inside of it for 8 minutes. The only thing that was on her mind was him. She didn’t know how to envision how he’d look, but she knew what type of person she wanted him to be. When the time was up, she put the necklace on. The moment she clasped the necklace against her neck was when she blacked out.

She was awoken by the glare of the sun rays that shone through her window. She arose quickly to see if the ritual worked. Unfortunately, the only presence in the room was her. She let out a frustrated groan and walked towards her vanity. “Was I so foolish to believe this ritual would be effective?” She said, disappointed at how doltish she was. She was about to cry when a sudden realization hit her. But wait… she could clearly remember she blacked out on the vanity. How is it that someone placed her comfortably on her bed? She knew she locked her doors last night so it couldn’t possibly be a maid or butler. Her hands unconsciously went and clutched onto the heart pendant. A radiant reddish-pink hue was emitted from the pendant. It was truly fascinating. “Is this supposed to light up?” It was a rhetorical question, but she got an answer. “Indeed, it is, mistress.” A husky but gentle voice said from behind her. When she turned around. It was as if time stopped. The man who stood before her was ethereal. She walked up to him to have a closer look at his countenance. His hair resembled the color of her favorite pink roses, his face looked silky smooth as one of those rose petals, his jawline was sharp as the knives in her kitchen, his eyes were big and round, his lips looked smooth and kissable. This man was perfect. The epitome of Perfect. “Who are you?” She questioned as her eyes shamefully scanned his clothed body. He looked very muscular, that’s for sure. “Greetings to you, mistress. The name is Kang Yeosang.” His hands lowered to intertwine with hers. A very visible blush painted her cheeks at his next words.

“Your greatest desire.”

━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━

[dreamiguess]

Day 3: Wedding

Day 3 of @fundyfiles FWT week

apologies for length and formatting. Wrote this one in my phone's notes app, day 2 is locked in my computer and will hopefully posted soon.

On AO3: 

They don't get married in a church or a banquet hall, or even the chambers of a town clerk. They have no rings or ring bearers, no officiant nor witness. No friends to lead toasts, no father to say <em> I'm proud</em>

They get married in woods untouched by pain and it's enough, enough to have whispered promises kept secret by the wind.

Fundy wakes at the creaking of the west window. His pulse beats steady, from an easing of fear rather than gain. He doesn't open his eyes to see what his heart already knows. They can create an image from sound alone, the ring of iron an axe learned against the wall and a thud of a shield next to it. Arrows, too, but much softer, and the rustle of clothing removed and hitting the floor. There's a worrying lack of a bow. It can't have taken more than two minutes but it feels like eons, the beats between each approaching footstep a century. The ache is overpowered by the steady beat of safe, safe, safe.

Neither pretend he's asleep when Dream climbs into bed next to him. His skin is cold to the tough, and his hair is wet when he burries his head into Fundy's chest. No amount of time or care bathing in the river could erase the scent of blood from his clothes, though, wafting from the corner to his unnaturally sensitive nose. It was a kind gesture, though, even if it only saved his sheets and not his mind.

Tucked under Fundy's chin and curled into his warmth, his love begins to shake. It was a bad one, then. They all were, he supposed, just some worse than others. The clock had already started ticking before the next. It could wait, wait for him to run his hands over chilled skin and purr into blonde hair until they both could sleep or till the sun rose, however long it took.

Dream wakes up quickly. He has to, has perfected the art of keeping his eyes closed and breathing slow until the coast was clear, or at least until he could claim the element of surprise. This morning is kind. Gentle fingers trace across his back and somewhere in the distance, the hens and sheep begin to start their busy days. With his nose pressed to Fundy's collarbone, it's like home has flooded his senses and settled into his bones.

He leans back enough to look at Fundy for the first time in weeks, beyond the silhouettes of last night's moon. The sunrise through the east window lights his red hair aflame. A grin stretches across his face, sleepy and unhurried. Like they have all the time in the world.

"I'll pick m' stuff up," he slurs, voice still raspy from sleep. He nuzzles back into the pillow. "Too tired last night."

"That's not what matters," Fundy replies, bumping their foreheads. "You could take your weapons into bed and I wouldn't care, as long as you came back in the first place."

Dream smiles at that and cracks an eye open. The pillow makes his vision fuzzy, but it's enough eye contact to get his message across.

"You'd mind."

"Okay, maybe. But still not the point." Fundy leverages the hand at his back to pull him closer, tucking his chin over dream's head in an image of the night before. Silence settles over them. It's a conversation they've had before, more or less. A tennis match of "you don't have to wait for me" and "I wouldn't know how not to," of "I'm sorry" and "for what?". Of Dream not deserving this love and Fundy giving it willingly. It always ends the same so they don't bother to have it out loud, and Dream have never been strong enough a man to do the right thing and leave.

"Breakfast?" He offers into Fundy's throat. It's been a while since he's gotten to cook for his partner. It's been a while since he's cooked for himself for that matter, besides smoking meats along the trail.

"Marry me?" Fundy responds. Dream laughs at that and finally rolls over, planting his feet on the ground and pulling his torso over his legs.

"No, I mean it." Dream freezes. Turns back towards Fundy to find him sitting on his heels and eyes wild. He waits but Dream can't find any words, and until he apparently can't wait any longer. The bed shifts when he scampers off the edge and circles around to kneel between dream's legs.

"Marry me." Fundy cradles his hands, runs the pads of his fingers over every scar and callous. He holds them like their something precious, not something worn and stained red. His eyes broadcast every emotion hiding within, and they hurt to look at. Dream looks at their hands instead and takes a shaky breath.

"I can't promise to be something permanent."

"You don't have to." Fundy wipes below his eye. He hadn't realized he was crying.

"You just have to promise to be mine."

They get married in the tradition of the Old Gods. It's only right for Dream to, and it's not like Fundy has any love for Prime anymore. They spend the week scavenging and waiting for the full moon. With only suspicions to rise and no coin to spend, they make the best of it they can. He picks daisies and black eyed susans and forget me nots, the flowers that grow wild in lieu of florists, and Dream dyes bow string in green and brown. They don't own enough white between them to look anything near proper, but Fundy puts on his only dress shirt and weaves a crown of clover flowers.

Dream shakes his head when he sees it, but ducks his head for Fundy to adorn him and kisses his cheek in a silent thank you. It's important, whether Dream makes a fuss or not, and it's the only white for a man who's been forced into forest colors for years.

They sneak to a clearing when the day arrives, hand in hand and giggling like children. Even though the trees provide ample privacy they don't dare to light a full circle of candles or leave a mark that could be traced. Four are enough to light them, and their flowers will fade soon enough.

Fundy's fingers feel clumsy wrapping the cord around his wrist, but his embarrassment turns to laughter as they figure out how to pull ends through loops for each other with their nondominant hands, a task clearly meant for a third party.

They have no high priestess to lead their ceremony, so Dream whispers the words instead. His voice is steady until the end, finally cracking as he finishes their vow.

"For as long as our love may last, so may it be."

"For as long as our love may last," he repeats, "so may it be." It's a bittersweet promise. Even now when his heart could not be more full, there's a reminder of their inevitable end. The modern script would have fit them better perhaps: till death do us part.

With a gentle tug their hands are free and their ropes are left in a neat knot. Dream pushes it into his hand and seals his first with his long fingers. And then he leans in, for a ritual Fundy knows the words to as well, kisses him desperately until they can't breathe.

Soon they'll blow out the candles and sweep their flowers out of place. Soon the horns will announce the next hunt, and dream's ichor will stain the forest floor instead of cheap wax. Soon.

[solohux]

Hi darling! I adore your omega Kylo content so much, and I know you've written about him a lot but I'd love to see something like hes getting very clingy and needy during the early stages of his pregnancy, not that he knows hes pregnant yet. Hux freaks out a little bit because this relationship between them is supposed to be causal, just a stress reliever (even if Hux thinks Kylo is the most beautiful omega hes ever laid eyes on). Kylo doesn't know why hes suddenly craving being with and around Hux more often but he is, he wants the alpha all to himself. Maybe it comes to a head when Kylo sees an omega officer talking with Hux and gets insanely jealous, going over to yell and start a fight and Hux has to pull him away to calm him down? Only for Kylo to jump on him the moment they're alone before Hux can even ask what the hell that was about. I don't know if that's enough for you to go on, I've never been brave enough to send a prompt before 😅 Thank you so much for your writing, it honestly brightens my day when you post something new 😊

“Uh, Ren?”

“Mmm.”

“Wake up. I need to go to the bridge.”

Kylo pouts, rolling his tongue over his dry lips whilst still in the remnants of a beautiful dream, “Okay.”

The bedchambers descend into glorious silence again so Kylo can doze, snuggling against the warm pillow that he has clutched tightly in his arms. He’s so content that he feels like he’s floating.

“Ren? No, no, don’t fall back asleep. Wake up.”

“Hm?”

The omega does as he’s told and allows himself to emerge gently from his dream about being held in Hux’s arms whilst the pair look down into a pristine white crib where a newborn pup sleeps, blinking away those sweet images to find the real alpha General staring at him with an unamused expression.

“I’m needed on the bridge,” Hux says, shifting beneath the sheets so that Kylo’s pillow moves in his arms. “So I’m going to need you to let go of me, Ren.”

Kylo frowns but when his pillow does a little bit more moving around, he realises that he’s actually clinging on so tightly to Hux—his arms like a vice around his middle—that there’s no way that the alpha can wriggle free on his own. Smiling, Kylo sets his bedmate free and stretches as he watches the fretting alpha get dressed in record time, throwing on his neatly-ironed uniform and smoothing his hair down with greasy product before popping a few mints into his mouth.

“An emergency?” Kylo asks, quickly rolling onto Hux’s side of the bed to claim his pillow, burying his nose in it and drowning in the alpha’s scent.

“No, but we’re expecting problems now that we’re in Hutt-claimed space and they need me up there,” Hux says, sitting on the bed to pull on his boots. “There’s caf in the kitchenette if you want some.”

Kylo turns his nose up, “No, thanks. The smell makes me feel ill.”

“Very well. I’ll see you later.”

Hux stands up to leave, adorning his greatcoat in one swift movement and heading towards the door. Kylo can’t help the quiet mewling sound that leaves his mouth.

“Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

The alpha stops dead in his tracks and turns, carrying on fixing his gloves in the elegant yet powerful manner that always makes Kylo’s stomach flutter. As he stares at Hux, part of him can’t believe that he’s just asked the most commanding alpha on the ship for a kiss goodbye, right after making a little keening sound that came from deep in his omega heart.

But instead of Hux scoffing at him like Kylo expects, he smiles devilishly, glancing down to the ground and leaning back over the bed. His gloved hand cups Kylo’s cheek, stroking over his skin with such gentleness that Kylo doesn’t ever want Hux to leave him.

“How can I say no to these lips?” Hux says softly before kissing the omega deeply, longingly. Kylo doesn’t know why this suddenly feels like heaven but it does, as though nothing outside of them exists—or if it does, it’s their world.

Hux breaks away first, though his hand lingers, “You know, you’re best fuck an alpha could ask for.”

Kylo’s heart sinks as Hux walks away and leaves, his greatcoat flapping out behind him like a grand cape. The omega sighs, shrinking back underneath the covers as he feels his mood drop like a cement brick in Kamino’s ocean.

Their arrangement has been labelled as stress relief ever since they fell into bed with each other almost six months ago but recently, Kylo has felt strangely drawn to Hux in a manner that he can’t explain, hating the fact that the alpha has left the safety of their bed—Hux’s bed, Kylo supposes but he spends so much time in it now that it’s become shared—and there are others now who’ll get his attention on the bridge instead of just Kylo.

That thought makes Kylo kick off the covers and grab his clothes, swallowing down a wave of nausea that seems to hit him every morning now but he hasn’t time to think about anything else but the burning jealousy in his gut, the unshakeable need to be in Hux’s arms right now or else. He doesn’t even brush his sleep-tousled hair or adorn his mask before storming through the Finalizer’s corridors, his potent scent and domineering presence sending officers scrambling out of his way.

Not ten minutes after Hux left his chambers for the bridge, Kylo joins him, stepping onto the bridge with high hopes of finding his alpha again and fulfilling his desperate craving.

But Kylo’s heart sinks down into his gut when he finds Hux standing at the helm of the bridge in deep conversation with another officer, another omega.

“No,” Kylo whispers, unconsciously putting a hand on his belly. Hux is his. The alpha has just left Kylo with a goodbye kiss that felt like paradise but now he’s catching gazes of other omegas—pretty little omegas with light brown hair and a lithe body that fits better to the dainty omega stereotype that Kylo has spent his life fighting against.

When the petite omega laughs at Hux’s quip and sets a hand on his arm, Kylo sees red.

He thrusts his hand out and calls the Force to his aid, wrapping tendrils of hate around the officer’s neck, stopping his pathetic, flirtatious giggling and making him choke on it instead. He growls, gritting his teeth and slowly curling his fingers into a fist whilst relishing in being the only one to have Hux’s gaze now, albeit for the wrong reasons.

“I’m his,” Kylo is growling in a low tone, his stomach twisting into knots. “His omega. He’s mine.”

“Ren! Ren, stop!”

Kylo blinks, breathing hard. He freezes when he feels a familiar hand close around his wrist, making him relax his Force-attack on the rival omega and making his fingers go slack. And despite the miniscule height difference between them, the omega feels like a pup beneath Hux’s frustrated gaze.

“Hux…” Kylo exhales, free of his rage but still full of jealousy. “I…”

“With me, now.”

Still holding onto Kylo’s wrist, Hux guides Kylo away from the bridge whilst friends of the fallen officer tend to him and help him to his feet; Kylo resists the urge to pull his tongue at the petite omega in victory.

Kylo allows himself to be led down corridors until they’re in an empty one, alone now instead of being surrounded by spying, demanding members of Hux’s bridge crew.

“I thought we were past strangling my officers,” Hux says, raising an eyebrow. “What happened—”

Kylo doesn’t hesitate in throwing himself into Hux’s arms, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s neck and sighing as soon as their chests are together.

“Don’t leave me,” Kylo says, hating how needy he sounds but accepts it now that he realises how much of his pain are withdrawal symptoms from Hux. “I can’t stand to be apart from you. I don’t want us to be casual anymore. I want to be yours. Just yours.”

“Ren,” Hux replies softly, and Kylo sighs in contentment when the hug is reciprocated. Hux’s arms are better than the warmth of any nest, safer than anywhere else in the galaxy. They pull apart a little to press their foreheads against each other. “You’re the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen. I’ve been waiting for the day where I can ask you to become my mate. I…thought you just wanted my knot.”

“No, no, I want all of you.”

Hux chuckles, smiling, “I should have guessed that you’re not the sharing type.”

“Not when it comes to you,” Kylo says, going in for a kiss but finds that the alpha is already going for his neck, to press open mouthed kisses against his pale throat—something that is forbidden between causal partners.

But the kisses don’t last long.

“Ren,” Hux gasps, pulling away in shock. Kylo feels his stomach sink, afraid. “Your scent…”

“What?”

“I…” Hux is turning red, his eyes filled with excitement. “I think you’re pregnant.”

Kylo faints.

[noladyme]

The Wife - Chapter 3

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. As rumors spread that Mr. James Delaney had returned to England – making a dramatic arrival at his father’s funeral – you might imagine mothers throughout London, rushing to present their marriable daughters to the man. They did not; and for three very good reasons. First; James Keziah Delaney was clearly damaged from his travels, and not a little dangerous. Secondly; it was the general opinion of the better society that Mr. Delaney had inherited his mother’s madness. Thirdly; Mr. Delaney was not single. In fact, he was very much married.

TW: angst, violence, blood, smut (8097 words)

“There was an invitation in one of my letters yesterday”, James said, as he entered the sitting room, and sat down across the table from Rosalind for breakfast. “And a good morning to you”, she replied, and took a sip of coffee. James raised a brow at her, before glancing towards her left hand. “Hmm”, he muttered. “Countess Musgrove has invited me to a party”. Rosalind pushed away her plate, suddenly unable to eat another bite. “You can’t tell me you plan on attending, after what happened”, she said. “Yes, I do. I want to convince the Americans to trade with me. And you will be attending as well. The invitation is for two people”. He began casually peeling an egg.

Rosalind nearly dropped her cup in her lap, and the dog sprang to attention at her sudden jolt. It walked over to her, and leaned its head on the armrest. “Are you…? That woman had me kidnapped!”, she growled. “I got to you before they could finish the job. You were perfectly safe”, James said. “I must speak with the countess, and we must make it known that you and I are reconciled”. “And what better way to do that, than putting on a pretty gown, and spending the evening dancing in the home of my would-be torturer”, Rosalind smiled sarcastically . “I don’t believe Musgrove would ever exact the torture herself…”, James began. Rosalind sighed, and shook her head. “Just… stop”. She closed her eyes, and took a moment to collect herself. “When is this party?”. “Tonight”, James said. “Tonight?”, Rosalind exclaimed. “Do you have any idea what these parties are like? The amount of money spent on them? We cannot just turn up looking like…”. “Are you worried you have nothing to wear?”, James half smiled. “Yes!”, she exclaimed, and immediately blushed at her own shallowness. This was not who she was, and she felt ashamed at her own reaction. “I shall find something. I am sorry for reacting in this manner. If you need to be present at this party, I will of course escort you. Please let me know if there is anything you need from me tonight". James narrowed his eyes at her, and seemed to study her face. “Just be a good reason for me to stay in England. Look in love", he said. Her heart stung at his words. “Of course". She replied.

James looked at his pocket watch. “We will promenade in an hour”, he declared. “Pearl will be arriving soon. I should really…”, Rosalind began. “It is Tuesday, and we made an agreement. Brace can receive her". Rosalind nodded, and got on his feet. “I will go and get ready". “Wear the new boots. I will not have my wife's feet getting wet", James called after her, as she left the room.

---

The soft leather wrapped her feet perfectly, as Rosalind put on her new boots. She had searched for her old ones, but they were no where to be found; and in the end, she’d relented, and put on the ones James had bought for her.

James waited at the bottom of the stairs, looking less than pleased at the prospect of taking a stroll with his wife. “It looks like rain", he said, while putting on his gloves. “When doesn’t it?”, Rosalind replied. “Do you want to stay in?”. He gave her a hard look, and put on his hat. “Come on", he ordered, and walked towards the front door. As soon as they were outside, James held out his arm for Rosalind to take; and they began walking in silence.

In spite of the gloomy weather, quite a few people were promenading the streets of Wapping. James was stoic and calm, but Rosalind noticed his eyes examining their surroundings often. The only time he let up his tense demeanor, was when he stopped by a group of dirty looking children, and handed each of them a silver coin. Her heart warmed at the sight.

“Are we in immediate danger of becoming victims of an attack?”, Rosalind asked, when they were once again walking, and James continued discretely looking over his shoulder. “Always", James replied. A pair of ladies Rosalind recognized the faces of, but could not remember the names of; seemed to whisper at each other, as they passed them on the lane. “If nothing else, we will be the victims of gossip”. He gave her a look out the corner of his eye, catching her slight smile. “Which was part of your plan". “I was quite up front with that, when I made the demand of promenades, was I not? We must keep up appearances”, Rosalind said. “This was never about wanting to promenade with you. I do not enjoy leisurely strolling with a man who would rather be anywhere else than with me. I am not that good at pretending, that I can convince myself this is anything but a game”. “You can’t live in dreams”, James said. She looked at him, her breath catching. “Exactly", she whispered. James eyes locked on hers for a long moment, and Rosalind was finding it hard to remember how to breathe. He cleared his throat. “Fresh air never hurt anyone", he said, and led her on down the sidewalk.

They both politely nodded at everyone they met, Rosalind being more successful than James’ in looking sincere with her smiles. “What will I say, if people ask questions tonight?”, she asked. “As little as possible; stay with truths”, James replied. “You thought I was dead. You were glad to see that I wasn’t, and I proposed that we live as man and wife; as we’d planned before I left”. “And why did you leave?”, Rosalind said “I was forced to”. His voice was brusque, and she felt him tense up next to her; pulling her forward at a brisker pace. “You said to stay with truths”, she muttered.

James halted suddenly, and Rosalind stumbled at his abrupt reaction. He caught her by the elbow, and looked at her with hard eyes. “We made an agreement to be honest. I am not lying”, he growled. Rosalind felt her heart beat fiercely. “Tell me what you remember of that night. The night I left”, James continued. His eyes were hard an unforgiving. “Please, James; can we just continue? Or go home”, Rosalind whispered. “No. Tell me!”, he demanded.

Rosalind began walking again, forcing James to follow. She refused to let him hold her back, and he let go of her elbow; once again only walking arm in arm with her. “We had dinner in private after the reception. When we decided to retire, I went ahead of you to your… our bedroom. You went to see your father, to say goodnight”. She had to blink away a tear. “I waited for you, but you never came. After an hour, I went down to the sitting room, where your father told me you… you had decided to leave for Africa”. James muttered something intelligible under his breath. “I decided to leave…”, he growled. “My father was many things, but an honest man, he was not”. “Then what happened?”, Rosalind asked quietly. He looked out the corner of his eye at her, before looking around him again. “Not here”, he muttered. “Let’s go home”. Rosalind let out an exasperated sigh, and let James lead her back to Chamber House.

---

Once home, James immediately took his leave for things he had to do by the docks, as he’d grunted; leaving Rosalind frustrated from a lack of an explanation to her question. She desperately needed to know why she’d been robbed of her husband; why – now that he was back – he would only pretend for their union to be a happy one, and not love her as she knew he had once upon a time.

Pearl had arrived while they were away, and was already busy washing the windows. In spite of her rugged appearance when Rosalind had met the young woman, she seemed very thorough in her work; and the light that could finally shine through the formerly dirty windows, made the rooms seem less dreary – even if the dirt covering almost every surface was more obvious now. Brace had found one of the old maids dresses, from when the elder Delaney had still allowed any other servant than Brace to roam the house. Pearl was of slighter build than the dress allowed for, but she’d tied a belt around her waist, to keep it from sagging too much; and she looked clean and happy to be at work.

After lunch – which Rosalind decided to take with Brace and Pearl in the kitchen - Rosalind began preparations for the evening. With no time to take a full bath, she settled for washing thoroughly with a sponge. None of her gowns would be as glamorous as any of the ones worn by the ladies at the party – this she was sure of – but she was determined to not bring shame on her husband. Once she’d looked at every gown twice, it was almost a stroke of luck, when she saw a glimpse of red velvet at the very bottom of one of her cases. She pulled out the dress she’d worn the night she’d met James, and knew that this was the right choice. Pearl peeked in to the room, as she was about to do up her hair; and offered a hand. It appeared that the maid had talents beyond cleaning windows, as Rosalind soon had a fashionable style on her head; with ribbons, and a mother of pearl hair comb. The maid then rouged her lips, and urged her to tighten her stay. “Mustn’t be afraid to show what you’ve got, ma’am”, she said, as Rosalind looked down at her now very prominent chest. “I’ll go wash the stairs now”, the maid grinned, and left the room.

As the clock stroke 6pm, Rosalind walked down the stairs. James was waiting in the sitting room, and looked up, when she entered. Pearl had kept herself busy, it seemed, because the room looked almost presentable enough to receive guests. When their eyes met, Rosalind saw him again; just for a second. The young man who she’d seen across the room the night her life changed. The man she’d fallen in love with. A hint of a smile graced his face, before he once again fell in to moroseness.

“Sit”, he said. Rosalind sat on the sofa, and James went to stand by the fireplace. “For the sake of our partnership, I will tell you what happened the night I – as you say – left you”. “Our wedding night”, she said. It pained her that he could not even call it that. “Hmm”, James muttered. “Once you know, you can make a final decision whether you want to continue our current arrangement, or leave. If you decide to leave, I will let you do so. I will find you safe passage to Paris, and you can… start over”. Rosalind felt her heart drop. James was expecting her to betray him, by going back on their deal. In all fairness, she had betrayed him once, but she had thought he was dead. “Alright”, she whispered.

James picked up a half empty glass of brandy, and downed it. “Shortly before we met, my father sent a ship to trade wares in the Dominican Islands. He had rented the ship, as his financial situation at the time was not such that he could buy one. The ship was taken by pirates before it could reach Port Au Prince; and his investment was for naught”. James sat down across from her. “The ship was owned by Sir Stuart Strange; the leader of the East India Company. As my father could not pay him back for the stolen ship – and he’d not had his investment insured – Strange demanded another kind of payment. He wanted Nootka Sound”. “But your father didn’t give it to him. It’s still yours”, Rosalind said.

James nodded. “He would not hand over the treaty, because Nootka is home to my mother’s tribe”. “Anna?”, Rosalind said confusedly. “Your father said she was from Portugal". “He also told you I left voluntarily”. James gave her a sharp look. A jolt of pain went through Rosalind’s heart, and she could not answer. “My mother’s name was Salish. She was an Indian, who was sold along with the land, by the chieftain, to my father”. “I was not aware", Rosalind said quietly. “I am sorry that you were lied to for so many years… But, what happened to make you leave?”.

James looked into the fire. “When my father would not give him the deed to Nootka Sound, Strange demanded another kind of payment. My service on one of his ships, sailing for Africa. He was sure my father would never send his son away in this manner”. “But he was wrong”, Rosalind said. “Yes. Whatever obligation he felt towards my dead mother, from having her committed to Bedlam, made him unable to part with the land”. James clenched his jaw. “He informed me of his dealings with Strange the night of our wedding, after you retired. He explained to me my true origins, and how he could not give up Nootka Sound. As it was, neither could I. I hardly knew my mother, but that piece of land was a connection to her, I was not willing to give up”. Rosalind swallowed hard, and fisted her hands. “So, you gave me up instead”. “Because you would never want me, if you knew who I truly was”, James said.

Rosalind got on her feet, and stepped over to James. With all her strength, she slapped him across the face; leaving him looking bewildered. “You stupid man!”, she hissed. “Do you really think so little of me, that I would love you less, because your mother was not who I thought she was? I see a human for who they are, not where they come from!”. “I did not mean to insult you…”, James muttered, seemingly prepared for another strike; and looking strangely like he felt he might deserve it. “Is that what kept us apart? Is that truly why you left me?”. James sighed deeply. “My father would never have given up on Nootka, and had I not gone away, he would have ended up in debtor’s prison. This house, everything in it, every shilling he owned; would have been taken away”. He looked meaningfully into her eyes. “We would have been desolated”. She kneeled in front of him, and took his hand in hers. “I would have lived in a gutter, as long as you were with me”. James raised his other hand timidly, and brushed his fingertips against her cheek. He gave her a bemused look. “He took you away for ten years…”, she breathed, and brushed her lips against his palm. James eyes flickered. “No… Three years”, he muttered. Rosalind let out a gasp. “But… why didn’t you come back to me, then?”. James face darkened again, and he pulled back his hands. “Stand up. You will ruin your gown”, he said with a cold voice. “Tell me, James!”, Rosalind demanded.

James got up, and with a grasp of her upper arm, he pulled her back to her feet. “Strange’s ship was a slave ship”, he growled; his eyes suddenly on fire. “He made me do things… Things I cannot tell you. In the end I did them out of sheer pleasure; forgetting that my victims were humans. Forgetting that I was human… So, you see, I did die. The man you married was no longer; in fact, he never existed. I was always broken; unaware of my true origins, and with an insane mother. There was darkness in me long before we met. I could not sully you with that; so, I made myself forget you, and everything I felt for you”. “It was easier to break my heart…”, Rosalind whispered. “Hmm. Better you were a widow, than have a devil for a husband”, James said. “Now, will I need to make arrangements for your departure for Paris?”.

There he stood, her broken devil of a husband; who’s heart was capable of more love than he knew, and who had deserved so much more than the hand he had been dealt. He looked hard and dangerous, and yet she had never seen him more fragile. She could not abandon him. He was not the monster he thought, and for the time being – to become free, and find his way to his mother’s home – he needed her.

Rosalind took a deep breath. “Is the carriage ready? We will be late…”. James looked at her in wonder, as she went into the hallway, and put on her cloak for them to leave.

---

They did not speak on the drive to Musgrove Manor. James helped her out of the carriage, stepping in front of the groomsman, before he had a chance to so himself. As they walked towards the line of guests in front of the large building, James inclined his head to whisper to her. “Whatever anger you might have towards me will have to be hidden from here on. We are walking in to a lion’s den, and our best chance of getting out whole, is by seeming happy with each other”. “Yes, of course”, Rosalind replied. “But seeing as you find it difficult to smile in my company, you might need to make an effort to find other ways to show your affection”. “Why do you think I would not let the groomsman help you out of the carriage?”, he said. Rosalind had known better than to think it had been anything but an act on James part, to ward of another man touching her. “You should dance if someone invites you to. It will give me a chance to seem jealous”.

They went up the stairs, and handed their outerwear to the butler. James whispered to the announcer; who turned towards the crowd of partygoers in the ball-room. “Mr. James Keziah Delaney, and Mrs. Rosalind Delaney”, he called out, and every person in the room turned to look at them. Rosalind suddenly felt very small, and was happy to have her arm hooked through James’, who strode forwards with cold confidence. “You look lovely. No need to fret”, he muttered, and her cheeks flushed red.

Well dressed ladies and gentlemen whispered at each other as they passed them. “… ten years! And she welcomes him back with open arms…”. “… rather wealthy from his travel. Of course, she would…”. Rosalind held on tighter to James’ arm, and he let her; resting a hand on the one she had on his arm.

They each took a glass of champagne, and Rosalind took a large sip of hers. She noticed Geary in the crowd, and his eyes widened when he saw her. Anger ghosted his face, before he went back to his conversation with his acquaintance. “Him, I do not want you dancing with", James said quietly. “He does not deserve the pleasure”. “How do you know it would be a pleasure?”, Rosalind asked. “We’ve never danced. Not even at our wedding reception”. James didn’t respond, but instead led them on through the crowd. She nodded and smiled demurely at everyone who greeted them. “Make connections; seem as if neither of us have any plans to depart London for anything more than a picnic”, he said. “Make arrangements for tea-parties and dinner. Whatever you have to do”.

After a while of silently observing the dancing couples, and smiling as if she’d never been happier to be anywhere than where she was now, James seemed to notice someone across the room. When Rosalind looked in the direction he was, she noticed a slight man with eyeglasses looking at them meaningfully. “Do not wander off…“, James muttered, and walked towards the man; with his body language making it clear Rosalind was not to follow. Once he disappeared from view, she felt instantly unsafe.

Finding herself the object of whispers and ogling, she made her way into a smaller adjoining room, where fewer people were gathered around a man dressed as a soothsayer. A large table was set up with delicacies, and Rosalind picked up a purple, round fruit. She examined the strange, thin but slightly hard shell, having never seen anything like it before.

“A passion fruit", a voice said from next to her. She turned and found herself face to face with a smiling man, holding a skin bag, with a small pipe of metal coming from it. “So named from the passion flower, from which it comes. The flower in turn is named so, as people find it resembles the crucifixion of Christ. I find the taste of it reminds me of other types of passions…”. He reached out his hand to her, with a confident smirk. “George Cholmondeley. And you are?”

“Married", James voice sounded from behind Rosalind. Cholmondeley looked between them. “To… oh, I see". James took the fruit from her, then grabbed the claw shaped knife from his inner pocket, and carved the fruit in half – making the other man swallow hard and laugh nervously. All around them people were watching. Even the would-be soothsayer had stopped speaking. The fruit had a yellow inside with seeds. James put one half to his lips, and devoured the content, before handing the other half to Rosalind with a grunt. He was making a statement to everyone in the room. Rosalind accepted the fruit, and the small spoon he then gave her, and scooped out some fruit to eat. Letting the fruit rest on her tongue to savor the taste for a moment, she then swallowed with a smile.

Cholmondeley cleared his throat. “Perhaps Mrs. Delaney would enjoy a taste of my fine gasses with her exotic fruit". He held up his skin, and smiled. “No", James said. “She doesn’t want any of what you’re offering". “I can speak for myself, James", Rosalind said. Her husband gave her a dissatisfied glare. “And you have a lovely voice to do so", Cholmondeley said. “Allow me to extend my deepest regrets for my crude introduction”. “It is quite alright, sir. You had no way of knowing how jealous my husband is", Rosalind said. “I found your remarks quite innocent". “There is nothing innocent about him", James growled below his breath.

Rosalind decided to ignore his words. “Are you a horticulturist, Mr. Cholmondeley?”. “Doctor Cholmondeley. And, no; merely a humble chemist and physician", he replied. He lifted the skin slightly. “Trying to bring smiles on the faces of the upper class". “Well, we are middle class, Mr. Cholmondeley. Excuse us…”, James said, and took Rosalind’s arm; leading her away from the chemist.

“Him we do not need to impress”, James said. “Who am I allowed to speak or dance with? You are not making this easy, James”, Rosalind retorted. He raised his brows at her. “You want to go dance with Mr. Geary, you are free to do so. I said I did not want you to; but I will not make your decisions for you”. He began leading them towards where Geary was standing, but Rosalind tugged at his arm. “No, James; please… That’s not what I meant”, she pleaded. Geary looked in their direction with an expression of disgust. “No, no. You go ahead, dear wife”, James said, and dragged her with him. Rosalind tried to halt him, by putting her heels in; but James put his arm around her waist, and nearly picked her up from the ground, to force her forwards. Around them the party goers were beginning to notice them. “You are taking this act of jealousy too far. People are looking…”, she whispered. “Let them fucking look!”, James growled. “Let them look, while the man who tried to steal my fortune and my wife, lead her on the floor in a waltz!”.

“Did someone say waltz?”. James turned his head, looking as if he was ready to attack the interrupting person; quickly calming his demeanor, when he realized he was facing their hostess. “Countess Musgrove”, he said, his voice even more gravely than usual. “Mr. and Mrs. Delaney”, the countess smiled. “It seems I found the way to get you to attend one of my parties, my dear. All I had to do was invite your husband! Are you worried someone might steal him from you?”. Rosalind tried to keep a calm expression after James strange reaction just seconds before. “Not at all, my lady”, she said. “I am merely here to avoid him ingesting any tea”. A slight expression of guilt ghosted Musgrove’s face. “A slight misunderstanding, I assure you… But I am glad you’re here tonight”, she said. “Might you allow me to borrow your husband?”. “I do not dance", James said. “Perhaps a promenade around the room. I’d like to show off my outrageous guest!”, Musgrove smiled.

Rosalind looked at James, who gave a slight stoic nod. “Of course. Just give him back to me within the decade. I don’t believe I could take another ten years”. James looked at her with unreadable eyes, before the countess linked her arm through his, and dragged him away; and Rosalind was once again left to herself.

She must have looked like a lost lamb, ripe for the taking, because before long, a gentleman came up to her, and asked her to dance. Rosalind pretended to be delighted to, and before long they were jumping and skipping in a quadrille. After the dance, the man led her over to have a glass of champagne, and they were soon in conversation with his group of acquaintances; all of them upper class ladies and gentlemen. Another gentleman invited her on the floor for La Boulangere, and she was soon forgetting her bad mood, and enjoying herself immensely. Then it was the Danse Ecossoise, with a third gentleman, and finally – after drinks and laughing with her new friends – she accepted a waltz with the first gentleman who she’d danced with.

At the final twirl, Rosalind was finding herself rosy cheeked, and retired to the ladies’ room to powder her nose. When she opened the door to go back to the ballroom, she stood face to face with Mr. Geary. “Rosalind”, he said. “Mrs. Delaney”, she replied shortly. “Rosalind!”, Geary repeated, and stood in front of her, so she could not pass. Rosalind froze in place. “You came here, with him…”. “He is my husband, Mr. Geary”. “He is an animal. Whatever you let him do to you is bestiality”, Geary growled. “In front of you stands a good honest man, who – in spite of you being ruined by that thing you call your husband – is offering you a chance at redemption”. Rosalind tore her arm from him. “You think very highly of yourself”, she said, pushed past him and began to walk away.

Geary followed, and grabbed a hold of her arm. “You shame yourself by dancing with every wanton man here; pretending at the same time to be a good wife”, he snarled. “We both know better. When Delaney is gone, you will come running to me; to plead of me to wash you clean again”. “James isn’t going anywhere”, Rosalind rasped. “We are happy”. “Then I shall kill him”.

Geary’s hold on her arm grew tighter, and Rosalind wanted desperately to call out for help; yet knew not what the result would be. She had no real friends at this event; and from his expression, Geary was likely to drag her through the crowd, and force her into a carriage away from the manor. “Let me go…”, she said below her breath. “No, Rosalind. I will have you…”, Geary hissed. They struggled for a moment. Rosalind tried to pry his fingers from her arm, and Geary pushed her against the wall, leaning in to smell her hair. “You will be mine; I know this is right…”. Rosalind looked desperately at her surroundings, and saw a candlestick with a lit candle. As Geary grabbed her jaw with his free hand, he pressed his lips to hers; violently kissing her. She grabbed the candlestick, and struck at his head.

Geary cried out in pain. His collar was singed, and blood ran from his eyebrow, down his cheekbone. Rosalind could finally tear herself from the man, and sped away; hiding herself in the crowds of rambunctious guests. Champagne had been flowing for hours, and drunkenness had taken over most people; on top of whatever gas Mr. Cholmondeley had been supplying them with. The chemist himself was laughing hysterically with a voluptuous woman seated on his lap. If ever the devil himself had thrown a party, this was surely it. Rosalind searched desperately for James, and was almost in tears, when she finally found him standing in the middle of a crowd of people dancing. Sobbingly, she ignored all propriety, and all coldness James had shown her in the past, and threw her arms around him.

“James”, she breathed into the crook of his neck. Her husband stood frozen in place; looking like a scared animal. Whatever was going through his mind, at the moment he was in no state to be her protector. “What is wrong?”. “Too many voices… Ghosts…”, he said.

His eyes were wild. Geary appeared next to them, and James saw the state of his jacket and his bloodied face. Geary looked at Rosalind with a mix of rage and triumph in his eyes, and James body tensed up even more. He began muttering words she did not understand, while his hand traveled towards his knife. In seconds, this party could turn in to a blood bath. Rosalind placed her hands on either side of James' head, forcing him to face her. “No… Look at me”, she said. James grunted nonsensically. “James; look at me”. His eyes found hers, and he let out a deep breath. “Rose…”, he breathed. “I’m here, my love”, she smiled. “Let’s go home…”. James nodded, and linking her arm through his, she led him towards the exit.

Their carriage was brought to them, and she got in; and took James hand when he entered himself. He squeezed her hand for a moment, before taking the reins; and driving away from Musgrove Manor.

---

They were quiet the whole drive. James body relaxed next to her, and he allowed her to press against him for warmth. Once back at Chamber House, Rosalind went inside, while James went to stable the horse and carriage. Brace had retired, leaving the house silent, save for the whimpers from the draft going through the walls and windows.

Rosalind went to her bedroom, and took the comb and pins out of her hair. She sat for a long time, studying herself in the mirror, and brushing her hair. The events of the evening had taken a toll on her nerves, and her hands were shaking so much, that when – suddenly – James stood in the doorway, she dropped the hairbrush onto the floor in startlement. “Do I frighten you?”, he asked. “No… It’s just been a trying night. For both of us, I suspect”. “Hmm”, James grunted. “He touched you…”. “I stopped him”, Rosalind said. “He didn’t have the chance to…”. She couldn’t finish the sentence, and simply cleared her throat, to push back tears. “Did you finish your business?”. “Hmm", James muttered with a nod. “The evening was at least in parts a success". "Then why were you so distraught when I found you?”, Rosalind asked. He shook his head in reply. “I just want to help you. I want to understand… But if you don’t want to tell me, that is alright. I will not make you speak of something that will hurt you to”.

She turned to empty her purse on the vanity, and James walked up behind her; picking up the hairbrush, and putting it down in front of her.

“You were right to take me away from there. I was not well, and you put yourself aside to care for me”, he said, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “The best thing I ever did, was marry you. It was also my greatest sin. I didn’t deserve you, and you deserved much better than me”. He met her eyes in the mirror. “You still do”.

“Why are you saying this? You don’t have to make excuses. I’ve accepted that you don’t… That we’re not… that". Her words came out in a broken voice. James gently put his hand on her shoulder, and ran his fingertips up her neck and cheek. Rosalind leaned in to his touch. “You’ve accepted it too easily”, he breathed, before removing his hand, and walking back towards the door. He halted in the doorway, and looked back at her. “I did fuck other women. Many women… And each one of their faces turned in to yours as they were laying under me”. A rush of heat went through Rosalind’s body, and she drew in a short breath; but before she could speak, James had walked away, and up the stairs to the attic.

Rosalind sat frozen in place, with the feeling of James fingers still lingering on her skin. His words had simultaneously torn out heart and made it warm. She hated the thought of her husband with another woman; letting them touch him and hold him, as she’d for so many years yearned to do. And he’d held them, touched them and kissed them. But then he’d seen her in their faces, had imagined it was her he spent those moments with.

She shed her clothes, put on her nightgown, and crawled in to bed. Laying back, she could not find rest. James words rang through her head. I made myself forget you… But he hadn’t forgotten; he’d kept thinking of her, and had wanted her. Anger took the place of sadness, and Rosalind sat up in bed with determination. Every time they had a conversation that brought them close to any kind of real emotion, James walked away, deeming it over. Not this time.

Rosalind climbed out of bed, and put a shawl around her shoulders, before leaving the room, and heading towards the stairs to the attic. A draft from one of the windows made her shiver, but it did not deter her from her mission. She had not traipsed the stairs to the attic in years, and not having been there many times, it still surprised her how it felt like walking in to a completely different world. The sounds were different up there; the howling of the wind was more like whispers. She opened the door into the large room, and was struck by the smell of burning wood in the fireplace, mixed with James’ unmistakable scent. It was far from the smell of old man and spilled alcohol; she’d sensed there before.

Walking towards the far wall, she saw the moon far shining through the large round window, where James was seated, looking down at the river. His shirt was untucked, and his feet bare. “You should leave. This room is no place for you”, he said, without looking at her. “We’re not finished”, Rosalind declared. James looked at her, but when he saw her state of undress, his eyes hit the floor. “You cannot say something like that, and then just walk away… For all your words about me deserving better, you keep treating me like an object to throw your affection at, whenever you feel like it; but never enough to make anyone but yourself feel better. I am always left wanting, whereas you get to do and say whatever you want”.

James turned his body, and got down from the window. His eyes were hard, and he was clearly trying to make her cower, and give in. “I told you…”, he began. “No, James!”, Rosalind said. “It is my turn to speak, and you will listen. You owe me that!”. His eyes flickered, and he let out a huff in response. “You saw me in the faces of others. I tried that with the man I let have me, and it didn’t work. It felt wrong, and I felt like I’d betrayed you. I only ever wanted you, and I decided to live out my life in solitude after that; because I would never be able to be in your arms again. Then it turns out you were alive, and could have come back… But you didn’t. You manifested me in front of you, in other women; in stead of coming back and just… having me. I was always here – heartbroken and in perpetual mourning – when I could have been happy. We could have been happy”. “I cannot make you happy”, James said. Rosalind shook her head, and took a few steps forward; tugging her shawl closer around her. “No, you cannot… Not how things are now”. She took a deep breath, and braced herself. “I cannot play pretend anymore, not now I know how you truly feel; because you do feel something for me, I know it. I want my husband, with everything that entitles. I will not be a subject for your imagination, someone you think of, but will not touch. If you want me, then have me – truly have me – while you are still here… Or let me go this very moment, and never think of me again”.

They stood for what felt like forever, just looking at each other. James expression was unreadable, and when he suddenly walked forwards, Rosalind almost jumped at his movement. Once stood in front of her, James looked at her with hard eyes. “I want my wife". “Then have her", she replied in almost a whisper.

It was as if there was a rift through an invisible veil, and James grabbed her head; pulling her in for a deep wanton kiss. His lips attack on hers was brutal, and his hand traveled down to her waist, to pull her closer to him. His beard was scratching against her skin, as his lips moved down to her neck, and James suckled at her pulse point. Rosalind let out a soft gasp, and James’ pulled back, is if to see if he’d hurt her. She smiled softly, and let her shawl fall to the floor. Loosening the bow on her nightgown, she relaxed her shoulders, and let the thing fall down her body, and pool at her feet. She was now standing naked in front of her husband, for the first time.

James pulled off his shirt, and she looked on his tattooed torso, as his muscles moved under his skin. It was just as it in her dreams. He then opened the button of his trousers, and without any embarrassment pulled them down to reveal his naked lower half. Rosalind felt her heart pounding so hard, she was convinced James could see it through her chest. “You can still go”, he said, when he saw her expression. “But you will have to do so now; because if you stay much longer, I will not be able to stop myself”.

Rosalind looked at her husband’s strong and dangerous body; and felt nothing but safety and want. She reached out a hand, and James took it; pulling it around his neck. He hooked his arm under her knee, and lifted her up to straddle his waist. His hardness was pressed between them, as he carried her towards the fireplace, where he set her down more softly than she’d known him capable of.

She stroked his cheek, and his eyes flickered for a moment. Kneeling in front of where she sat, he reached for something laying near them on the floor. He held out a small knife. “I am not a gentle man… You may have to stop me”, he said, and held out the hilt towards her. Rosalind swallowed hard, and looked at the blade for a moment, before pushing his hand away. “You won’t hurt me”, she assured him. James’ hand shook, and when he wouldn’t put down the knife, Rosalind took it from him, and laid it on the floor; before pushing it out of reach. With a hand behind his neck, she pulled him closer, and kissed him gently. She went to straddle his lap; while James put an arm around her back.

When she tried to lower herself to let James enter her, he held her in place. “No… not yet”, he said. Rosalind looked at him confusedly, while James lowered her onto her back; and pressed his lips to hers. Without putting his full weight on her, he laid between her legs, and stroked her side; while his tongue probed for entrance to her mouth. Rosalind opened her lips, and met it with her own. Every movement of their lips sent pleasurable signals to her core.

James stroked his hand across her belly, before moving it down. He lingered on her pubic mound, stroking her curls with his fingers. Rosalind gasped into his mouth, as his fingers went further down, and James looked deep into her eyes, while tracing her lower lips. She was lost in his blue orbs, and breathed raggedly, when she felt James find the spot where her labia met at the top. There, he made circling movements, which made intense heat – starting from the bottom of her feet – travel up her legs.

Unable to speak a word, Rosalind instead communicated her pleasure by grabbing on to James’ shoulders, and digging her nails into his skin. James hand quickened its pace, and Rosalind felt something she could not describe, approaching. It had not been like this when she’d laid with the other man. There had been bodily pleasure, yes; but this intense connection, and knowledge of her body, in spite of never having lain with her before, overwhelmed her. And yet, she was not surprised. Of course, James knew her body, she was made for him, and he for her.

Then came a buildup from inside. James stroked at her harder, and Rosalind let out whimpers, that turned in to a guttural moan; when she felt one of his fingers entering her. Looking down, she saw that James’ thumb was now stroking at her, while his middle finger was pleasuring her insides. Something in her snapped, and Rosalind cried out, as she felt her tunnel spasm around her husband’s finger. It was as if there was an intense white light blinding her, and she almost sobbed from the sensation. James said something she didn’t understand, before withdrawing his finger, and instantly replacing it with his hard member. He pushed in to her as she was still climaxing; only intensifying the sensation. “Rose…”, he whispered into her ear, as he began thrusting.

Once her shudders of pleasure had calmed, Rosalind tilted her hips to allow for deeper penetration, and James took a hold of her thigh. His hips pushed hard against her, and there truly was no gentleness to his movements; but she only wanted more. Rosalind winced in both pain and pleasure, when she felt James dig his fingers into her breast. His other hand grabbed her hair, and pulled her head to the side, so he could attach her neck with hard kisses. His teeth grazed her skin, deep enough to surely leave marks. Throwing her arms around his neck, Rosalind pulled James as close as she could get him, wanting his skin against hers. It was as if she could feel his heart beating just inches from hers, and she smiled. This was right, and whatever would happen in the morning, they would have this moment.

One of James hands forced her knee up and to the side, spreading her even more for him. He dug his fingers into her skin, and she could tell he was trying to hold back from how hard he wanted to take her. “More…”, Rosalind goaded him. “Please. It’s alright”. James gave a guttural moan, and his hand flew to her neck, where he was about to squeeze her jugular; before he decided to place it on her shoulder instead, pressing her hard down against the floor. Soreness was building in Rosalind’s back, but she did not want James to stop, so held her tongue.

The first signs of another climax showed themselves, with the warm buildup from her core beginning to spread out through her legs. Her husband was breathing raggedly, and groaned loudly when he could feel that she had an orgasm approaching. Quickening his pace, James held her down even harder, making it impossible for her to move, even if she’d wanted to. When she could no longer hold it back, she let out a load moan, and shook underneath him. James lifted his head, and looked deep into her eyes, before kissing her hard. He panted, burying his face in the crook of her neck; and thrusted hard a few more times. Then he pulled himself out of her, and spilled himself onto her belly with a loud groan.

James sat up, and looked down at her. “Yes… yes”, he said, as if answering a question, he’d asked himself internally. He moved a lock of hair out of her face. “Hmm”. Looking down at her breast, she saw marks from where James had held on to her, and his juices on her stomach; but felt no sense of disgust at it – merely a hint of regret. Of course, James would not want to have a child with her, as he was to leave England anyway.

As Rosalind sat up, James got on his feet, and went to get a cloth napkin from his desk. He quickly wiped off his member, before remembering his equally soiled wife, and found a handkerchief in the pocket of his trousers on the floor. Rosalind smiled softly, and reached for it; but was surprised when James got on his knees again, and wiped her off himself. It was intimate, but not lustful action. James treated it as an obvious thing to do.

His eyes explored her body, and every time they moved to a new spot, it felt like a caress. There was only want and appreciation in them. “Hmm”, he muttered, and a smile ghosted his face. Rosalind blushed, and James reached out a hand to let his fingertips slide down her torso, between her breasts, and down to her belly. “Softer than in your dreams”, he said approvingly. Rosalind’s lips parted, and her eyes widened at his words. “You were there…”, she breathed. “Whenever you let me in…”, he admitted. “I suppose we are both mad, if we believe that”, she smiled. “Hmm”, James nodded. “But being mad has brought me comfort these past ten years”.

As if remembering himself, he shook his head. “You should go to bed. You made friends tonight, and will probably have to receive them for tea in the morning”, he said matter-of-factly. He got on his feet, and Rosalind followed. “Where do you sleep?”, she asked. “Here”, he replied. “In front of the fireplace?”. “No, I have a bed”. James gestured towards the far corner, where a bed had been set up. It was unmade; meaning James had told Pearl to stay out of the attic. Rosalind didn’t think James was bothered by an unmade bed in a room he was the only one to use. She took her nightgown, as he picked it up, and held it out to her. “May I stay here with you?”. He looked at her incredulously. “Why?”. “Because I would like to sleep next to my husband”. He looked at her for a moment longer. “Hmm”, he muttered, and nodded slightly. “But put that on. It can get cold up here”.

Not getting dressed himself, he blew out the candle on his desk, and walked towards the bed. Rosalind slipped her nightgown over her head, and silently followed him. He pushed down the covers, and let her climb under them. She laid down, and watched as he sat down on the edge of the bed – made a movement of his hand from his chest to his forehead, and muttered something – and laid down next to her. He seemed surprised as Rosalind nestled into the crook of his arm; but none the less folded it around her, letting her relish in his warmth.

Before long, her eyes closed, and sleep took her over.

---

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Ten ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4422

Warnings: Canon-level violence

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Just so you know, I start playing a little fast and loose with ‘elf-lore’ right about here. Thanks so much for all your responses to the previous chapters! Happy reading <3

We retire early, each of us exhausted from our long journey. Elrond arranged rooms for us in his expansive home, which I found out is the heart of the city. I guess when you found a town, it makes sense that you get the largest estate. At Elrond’s instruction, a female attendant leads me up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. She opens a door to my left to revel a large room with a four-poster bed, table, chaise lounge, couch, fireplace, and, through an archway to the side, a full bathroom. Pillows and blankets decorate every available surface and I notice a large selection of books and candles. After two weeks on the road, I want nothing more than to bury myself in this room’s amenities.

“Wow,” I breathe, unable to do much more in my state of awe and fatigue.

“Lord Elrond knows about your fear of heights and has placed you in one of the most innermost rooms of the estate. Your windows will offer you views of our waterfalls but you are nowhere near to the edge. I hope it is to your liking.”

I smile, my already present fondness for Elrond growing. Though, I do wonder which of my friends told him about my fear of heights. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The attendant nods, leading me to a chest of drawers. “You will find clothing here and bathing provisions in the bathroom. Meals are three times a day and you may join the others in the common hall or request to dine in your chambers. If you require my assistance, I am in the room at the very end of the hall and to the right. I hope you sleep well.” She curtsies deeply and I wonder if I should do the same. Just to be on the safe side, I place one leg behind the other and squat, awkwardly attempting to mirror her movement. She puts great effort into suppressing a smile, but inclines her head in acknowledgment of my efforts before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

What am I going to do?

This place is dangerous. It’s terrifying. And yes, I feel relatively safe within Elrond’s walls, but he said it himself—just last month, orcs attempted to infiltrate the city. What if they try again, only this time, they succeed? And with some evil being on the rise? Nope, no way. I don’t think I can deal with that.

I throw myself facedown on the large bed, groaning in frustration. This world that I’ve only just accepted to be real is showing me just how real it is. The honeymoon phase is over. The rose-colored glasses have been lifted from my eyes, and what I see paints a dark, fearful scene.

Yet, even still…I cannot ignore the part of me that so badly wants to stay.

The people I’ve met here—humans, elves—does it really matter? Whatever they are, whatever I am at this point, honestly, does it actually, in the grand scheme of things, matter? Because I like them. I care about them. More than anything, I don’t want to leave them, to go back to a world of people I don’t know.

But danger and my friends are a package deal.

And I don’t know if I’m equipped to handle that.

I flip around into a seated position, letting my head flop into my hands.

I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed. I’m stressed. And I’m exhausted. Now, I need to sleep. Everything else can wait until morning.

I haul myself off the feathered mattress and drag my heavy feet to the chest of drawers. As far as sleep items go, I find only nightgowns, but they’ll have to do. It’s much better than sleeping in the muddied clothing I’ve traveled in for two weeks.

I change quickly and blow out the candles I rely on to light my room. I crawl into bed, pulling the thick duvet up to my ears. Before I know it, sleep calms my racing mind.

{***}

I wake in the mountains.

A roar, guttural and angry, comes from behind me and I throw myself into a sprint. I stumble over the uneven terrain, catching my foot on rocks and scraping my shins, but I keep going. Whatever I suffer running away is surely better than being at the mercy of the beast that pursues me.

Brown, gnashing teeth cut me off and I shriek, falling onto my back. An orc with its stinking, rotting breath descends on me, dagger cutting into my arm. I cry out not only in pain but in panic, for the blood that falls to the ground is not red — no, it is thick, dark sludge.

I’m underwater.

The sludge suffocates me. It fills my lungs and burns as it slides over my skin. I kick, desperate to get away.

Below me, a honeyed voice sings. It beckons to me, begs me to come deeper, to let myself sink. It promises safety, security.

It promises peace.

“Cosima.”

Haldir’s voice far above me sounds muffled as it travels through the murky waters. I snap my head up. I can’t see anything, only the darkness, but I know that if I can somehow get to him, if I can follow his voice, then I will reach the surface.

“Cosima!” Rumil shouts for me now.

My name, called in turn by each of my new friends, overlaps, drowning out the sweet sounds from below.

My vision darkens. I have gone too long without breath — I have to make a decision.

I kick my legs, propelling myself upwards.

{***}

I break through the surface, sputtering and gasping for air.

Light—harsh and bright orange—momentarily blinds me. As my eyes adjust, I recognize the puffy white duvet, the cool grey of the stone walls, the soft pink flowers cascading from the ceiling. I’m in my guest bed in Elrond’s house. I never left my room. I never lost to an attacker in the mountains. I never fell into the water.

It was just a dream.

Water—the roaring sound of the waterfalls—while muted, is still subtly audible in the background. And my dream—it was nearly exactly what I imagined before waking in Arda. The sound from the waterfalls must have triggered it.

Just a dream, I remind myself, trying to calm my racing heart.

A sharp knock disrupts the silence of the room and sends stabs of pain through my head — bad dreams and a headache, too, I guess. The knock sounds again and I groan, forcing myself to leave the coziness of my covers and pad on bare feet to the door.

It’s Haldir. He stands, hand still raised, in fresh clothes and even more armor than yesterday. His bow is slung over his back, a quiver and sword rest at his hips. I try not to let my thoughts get away from me with overreaction — surely this isn’t necessary for inside Elrond’s halls.

He lowers his hand, dipping his head briefly in greeting. “I—” he seems to notice my nightgown. “Did I wake you?”

I shrug and attempt to lean against the doorframe casually, still mildly disturbed from my nightmare. “I don’t think so.” Then, panic causes me to stiffen. “Have you been here long?” Did he hear anything? Oh, I hope not.

He shakes his head and I relax. “No, I only just arrived.” Whew. “I came to get you — Elrond wants to take a look at your arm. I also wanted to let you know, Glorfindel and I are going to visit a couple of the border stations and see if there are improvements to be made. I will be back late tonight.”

“Oh.” I blink. So he’s leaving. “But you only just got here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t you want a few days to relax?”

He tilts his head to the side. “I have been relaxing — I’ve been on leave from my duties for three weeks now.”

I roll my eyes, recalling his constant state of watchfulness on our journey. “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t call the trip we just had ‘on leave from your duties.’”

He huffs, but the beginnings of a smile tugs at the edges of his lips. “Would you please get dressed so I can escort you to Elrond? Glorfindel and I wish to leave within the hour.”

I fight the urge to make some snarky comment about his impatience and instead shut the door in his face, hurrying to get ready. My arm does sting — perhaps Elrond can do something about that.

The chest of drawers doesn’t offer much in variety, mostly just a combination of long dresses and a few tunic and legging sets here and there. I’ve been traveling in the same clothes for two weeks though, and a change in habit doesn’t sound too bad, so I opt for a sleeveless pale blue gown with a gossamer cape at the shoulders. I don’t look as ethereal as Lavandil would, but I suppose it will do. Using my fingers, I brush down the frizz in my hair as much as I can—a lost cause, really—and throw on a pair of cream slippers that no one will see anyway because of the gown. After splashing some water over my eyes and brushing my teeth, I throw open the door to find Haldir standing to the side, back to the wall, watching the coming and going of everyone who passes down the hallway. Always on duty. He acknowledges me with a stiff nod and gestures down the hall, falling into step beside me. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, he leads me to the right and through another open-air hallway.

He breaks the silence. “Is your room to your liking?”

I think back to my plush bed, trying to separate it from the dread and fear of my nightmare. “Oh, yes. As much as I liked sleeping under the stars, it’s nice to have a proper bed and all the blankets I could want. And a door.”

He huffs out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “That is the true indication of luxury.”

“And yours?”

His mouth twists into a grimace. “It is the height of visitor season here in Imladris, so I am sharing with Rumil. Aside from constantly putting up with my younger brother, it’s perfect.”

I freeze, turning to him. “Wait, you have to share? But you’re the one who’s supposed to be visiting, that’s not right. You or Rumil can have my room, I’ll stay with Alex—”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he interjects quickly, jerking his head to indicate that I should continue walking. “I only meant to joke. I do not mind sharing a space with my brother.” Before I can respond, he changes the subject. “How is your arm?”

I raise it, feeling the skin stretch over the cut. “Stings, but it’s healing.”

“Elrond will be able to speed along the process.” He indicates that we should turn left down a new hallway. He leads me through a nondescript archway on our right and we enter a moderately sized semicircular room.

Elrond sits at a mahogany desk near one of the walls, writing furiously on a piece of graying parchment.  Upon our entry, he looks up, and the lines of stress on his brow melt into an expression of warm welcome. “Good to see you again, Cosima, Haldir.” He nods to each of us in turn and motions for us to join him at his desk. When we approach, Haldir bows his head respectfully, so I do the same. It’s strange to be in Elrond’s presence. He carries such authority that I feel small in comparison, yet he also leads with such kindness that it is impossible to not want to be around him. Based on all the visitors Haldir mentioned, I surmise that I am not alone in this assessment.

Elrond vacates his chair and gestures for me to sit. He comes to stand at my left and gently takes my arm in his hands. “I am sorry for the injury you suffered during the attack. That must have been quite jarring.”

Haldir rests a hand absently on the hilt of his sword, watching us from the other side of the desk. Likely, he too is remembering the ferocity of the attack — the lives he had to take. It must be hard, even if they were the lives of those trying to kill us.

“It was,” I agree, wincing slightly when Elrond unwraps the bandage encasing my upper arm. “As far as I know, my home doesn’t have anything like that.”

He smiles almost indulgently, crouching to more closely examine the gash. “But you would not remember if it did, no?”

I swallow. I hadn’t considered that. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks into my eyes then, and I feel so very young. “Every world has its perils. And every world has its joys. You cannot have one without the other—such is the way of life.”

I exhale shakily, turning my eyes to the ceiling. That’s sobering.

Elrond lays his fingers over my torn skin and mutters something in that language I so often hear.

I try to concentrate on the sounds, but can’t make out any specific words. “What is that?”

Since Elrond is still chanting, Haldir answers for him. “An Elvish healing incantation. Combined with the power in Elrond’s spirit, it should close up the wound.”

Tingles race through my upper arm and converge on my cut. I crane my neck, trying to see around Elrond’s hands. A second later, he pulls away. I gasp. All that is left of the cut is a thin, raised scar.

“What,” I murmur, prodding at the skin. Not painful, not even tender. What was just a two-day old wound now seems as if it happened and healed ages ago. “That’s impossible.”

Elrond nearly smirks, straightening to full height. “Open your mind, young one, and you will see that what is impossible to you is commonplace here.”

“I—” but I have nothing to say to that. Though I cannot possibly wrap my head around what just happened, the fact remains that it did. I’m not sure if I’m ready to confront what that means. So I push it away for later. “Thank you.”

Elrond inclines his head. Everyone around here is so dang respectful. “You are welcome.” With a twinkle in his eye, he turns his focus to Haldir. “Do not give my guards too hard a time. I imagine they are wary of your arrival.”

Haldir gestures for me to follow him to the exit. “I only plan on pointing out strategies for improvement. Suggestions, really.”

With a noise that clearly communicates his disbelief in Haldir’s statement, Elrond returns to his desk, smiling softly and shaking his head. “Be safe, Marchwarden. And Cosima?” I stop and turn, one hand on the pillar leading into his study. He gives me a level look and I have the distinct impression that he is acutely aware of the conflict raging within my head. “My door is always open.”

Mutely, I nod, a little stunned by the gravity in his gaze. I must have been staring, because it takes Haldir gently tapping my elbow to remind me to follow him from the room. Once in the hallway, I feel a little more clear-headed. “So was that magic?”

Haldir shrugs, striding down the long corridor. “Humans would think of it that way I suppose. Magic implies something special and ‘more than,’ though, and it’s not like that for elves. It is to be respected, yes, but it is simply the power in our spirits doing the work that calls to them. For Elrond, his spirit urges him to heal, so when he acts on it, he is more powerful than others who aren’t called to healing. I should mention that we say ‘spirit’ for your benefit. Elves use the term ‘fæ’. Simplified, it serves the same purpose as a spirit, but for elves, it plays more of an active role in our lives.”

I mull that over. It sounds reasonable enough. “So then what’s yours? What does your spirit—fæ want you to do?”

“Keep people safe. And if that means fighting, so be it.”

That seems consistent with what I know about him. Every action he takes seems driven by the desire to protect those around him. “What would happen if you ignored it? Say you wanted to be a healer like Baranor or Elrond.”

Haldir chuckles, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he walks. “I have tried before and I was not near as successful. I can perform the basics of healing—anyone can—but there’s no power within me to speed up the process or heal especially severe injuries like Elrond can. If I tried to attend to your arm in the same way he did, maybe it would have healed slightly faster? But as you saw with Elrond, he is capable of doing it in minutes.”

I begin to catch on. “Okay, so you can all learn whatever skills you want but the power to perform above and beyond at those skills lies in your fæ.”

He nods once. “Exactly.”

We turn a corner. “But what if you wanted to be a healer but you were born with the fæ of a fighter? Could you change it?”

Haldir takes a deep breath, his steps slowing slightly. I realize we are nearing the staircase that will take me to my room. “Short answer—no. An elf’s fæ is incredibly personal and incredibly fragile. Really, only two things can change an elf’s fæ: marriage and death. Long answer—you can ignore the desires of your fæ and nothing bad will happen to you so, technically, if I wanted, I could shun the need to keep my people safe and heal them instead. But I wouldn’t be any better at it than anyone else and I would feel unfulfilled because I wouldn’t be giving my fæ what it needs. Does that make sense?”

I nod, but something he glossed over jumps out at me. He said marriage can change an elf’s fæ, but from what I know, marriage isn’t always forever. People can separate, people can die, people can cheat. What then? “Marriage and death change a fæ how?”

A faraway look comes into his eye. “The two are basically interconnected. When elves get married, their fæs bond together in a way that cannot be undone. When it is—through death—the half of the fæ belonging to the dead elf essentially wilts and leaves the remaining fæ damaged.”

That sounds awful. “But what about divorce? Is that kinder to a fæ?”

Haldir smiles ruefully. “Divorce is something unique to humans. Elves live forever and we love only once. When we do decide to love another, the two fæs are literally entwined forever. So divorce is a physical possibility — the two can be separated, yes. But it would cause their fæs so much grief that it almost never happens. Spiritually though, the two are entwined until death, some argue even beyond then.”

I’m almost afraid to ask. “So, if one dies and the fæ is damaged…”

“The other fades. It is not just a physical death, but a spiritual one. They lose the will to live and eventually pass into nothing.”

I look at the ground. Haldir carries a pain in his voice that makes me wonder if he’s seen this happen before. With over three thousand years behind him, it’s likely that he has.

I attempt to veer to a safer subject. He said elves only love once and, as far as I know, Haldir isn’t married. I try to tease him a little to lighten the mood. “So you’ve never been in love?”

He raises an eyebrow, jerking his chin in my direction. “Have you?”

I shrug, climbing the staircase. “I wouldn’t remember.”

“I think you would.” We’re at the top now and I turn to see him looking not at me, but out one of the gaping archways showcasing the falls.

I let out a slow breath, thinking on his words. Would I, though? I mean, what if I’m here gallivanting with my new friends and I have someone at home mourning my loss, missing me? Do I owe it to him to make it back?

Feeling a weight settle on my shoulders, I take small, hesitant steps towards the archway, bringing me closer and closer to the fortified stone railing. I don’t look down—that would be too much—but I do rest my hands lightly against the wood, staring straight ahead at the curtain of frothy white and blue. Guilt as well as fear from being so close to the edge churn in my stomach. Am I a bad person for not remembering my love? Do I even have one?

I let out a shuddering breath, knowing I need something — reassurance or condemnation, I don’t know. I choose to give voice to my fears and trust Haldir to decide.

When I speak, my voice is not as solid as I would like, sounding instead shaky and fragile. “But what if I didn’t?” I swallow against the lump rising in my throat. “What if there’s someone in my world waiting for me and I can’t remember him?”

The sounds of boots clicking against stone echoes. A few seconds later, Haldir appears next to me, resting his hands on the railing, mirroring my viewing of the waterfall.

“An elf’s fæ gives them a measure of awareness. If you are really attuned to someone—love them, have a strong bond with them—your fæs will have a consciousness of each other, almost like they’re in communication. For example, I can see Rumil’s light and I know that he is content. I can feel Orophin’s joy practically bursting and I know how happy it makes him to be here with his love. And, while a human’s fæ isn’t as strong as an elf’s, you do have one. If I concentrate, I can see it. It’s faint, but it is there. All this to say,” he shakes his head slowly, turning his gaze to me. “If you had a love back home, your fæ would know.”

I slump in relief, leaning against the railing and closing my eyes so I cannot further frighten myself. If I had someone that I was bonded to, I would remember him — more than that, I would feel it in my soul. So, staying here…if it weren’t so dangerous…maybe it wouldn’t be bad.

“Haldir, Lady Cosima.” A confident voice at the end of the hall catches our attention.

Glorfindel, golden and gorgeous as ever, strides up to us, bowing deeply. He reaches for my hand and presses a kiss to its back, then straightens and winks—at me or Haldir, I can’t tell. “A human custom I thought I’d try. Not my cup of tea, but I do say I’ll try anything once.”

I bark out a shocked laugh, having not expected Glorfindel’s bold entrance. “Am I one of your experiments, then?”

“If you’d like to be.” He pumps his eyebrows suggestively, though, if what Haldir just explained to me is true for all elves, Glorfindel is only playing around.

Haldir rolls his eyes. “Are you ready to go?”

With a flair, Glorfindel gestures to his armored form. “So it seems. Is the Lady going to accompany us?”

I huff, not liking being cut out of the conversation. “No, ‘the Lady’ hopes to stay here and find breakfast.”

“Ah, it is on the path to the stables! Allow us to show you the way.” With that, Glorfindel strides down the hallway as quickly as he arrived.

Haldir shakes his head—whether in amusement or annoyance, I don’t know—but follows.

The three of us wind up in a large outdoor pavilion sheltered only by a wooden lattice rooftop woven with blue and white flowers. This must be the common dining hall Elrond mentioned last night. It’s relatively late in the morning but too early for the midday meal, so the pavilion is empty. I’m grateful—I’m not sure I could handle meeting a whole city’s worth of elves before I’ve gotten some food in me.

The use of the word causes a brief spark of shock to jolt through my chest. I just referred to them as ‘elves’.

But I cannot deny it any longer—somehow, it clicked. I am in a different world, and the people of this world are not all human. My friends are elves.

This decision to believe—though it is only one of many I must make—releases a weight from my chest. I suddenly feel much lighter, nearly giddy with freedom. I push forward and turn around to face the two ellyn who led me here, nodding with a measure of finality.

“You are elves.”

Glorfindel looks perplexed, but Haldir, for the first time since I’ve met him, looks surprised. His eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, his lips part from each other. I grin, very much enjoying the feeling of catching him off guard. He narrows his eyes slightly, seeming to inspect me for signs of teasing or a joke. I smile up at him, confident in my decision.

Glorfindel looks back and forth between what probably looks like an impromptu staring contest. “Yes…it must be time for you to eat. How often do humans need to eat, anyways?” He chatters on, leading us through the pavilion and into an auxiliary room — the kitchens. “I’ve heard horror stories of new humans needing to eat upwards of six times per day. How do its caretakers get anything done?”

As Glorfindel darts through the kitchen collecting what I assume to be leftovers and provisions for the trip, Haldir comes up beside me, looking almost unsure.

“You have accepted it, then?”

I nod, exhaling quickly. “I have. This isn’t a dream, this is real. Somehow I lived in my world and now I live in yours. And, though there’s no way for me to wrap my head around it, my new friends are elves.”

He smiles softly, hesitantly, and dips his head in acknowledgment of my statement. “I am glad.”

But, despite my momentary feeling of freedom, unease settles in my gut. Many more decisions lie ahead.

A/n Ooo so what do you think??? Likes, comments, and reblogs make me happy! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Also, if you’re bored, pop into my ask box and tell me something that makes you happy -- I’d love to know!

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[moriarty-bibliotheca]

—✧ ❝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬❞ ✉

— 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ✉

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔: hello sorry for my english😌 Can you ask for the script of Reader x Albert James Moriarty?. The reader is friends with the Moriarty brothers and helps them change the world, and at one point feels stronger feelings for Albert. Which scares her because she's not a noble so she feels she shouldn't love a noble so she starts to distance herself from his lover and if she talks to him it's very brief. which Albert notices and tries to talk to her in private. can there be a happy ending. Sorry🙏

❝ 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 ❞

— 𝗳𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

— 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

— 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗿𝘀!

— 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱!

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: i love albert so much! 😭🥺 this is the first request i’ve received in this blog, thank you so much! hope you like it! don’t apologize, love. thank you so much! now go ahead and check out the story!  

Sounds of the pen scribbling on your journal was the only thing audible at this time of the day, you were isolating yourself in the room as it seems like your mind has been occupied with a number of thoughts lately. Thoughts that you wish you never had, if you could just have the power to make this disappear in a snap, you would immediately make it go away.

You continued writing down your inner thoughts into your journal, one that he bought for you. The older Moriarty had been nothing but nice to you, ever since the day you met him, never had he or his brothers once mistreated you because you were a commoner, someone lower in rank than he is, this caused you to have a stable friendship with the three of them.

Now, of course, you knew about their wish; their wish to change the world, this society. It was ridiculous that your status by birth dictates how you should live. If you are a noble, you get the greater things in life; you get treated with respect, have a better education, work in high-paying jobs and earn more money, and even live a very luxurious life. The rich gets richer and the poor gets poorer, doesn’t that sound terrible?

A knock came through the door, interrupting your train of thoughts and your writing, you looked towards the direction of the door and placed the pen back on its penholder. “Y/N,” the youngest Moriarty’s voice came through the wooden door, “it’s lunch.” It seems you had been so occupied with your writing and your thought process that you didn’t notice the time of the day, “I’ll be right there.” You looked at the mirror and fixed yourself, you let out a deep breath and left your room. Louis was still standing there as he gave you a smile and escorted you to the dining hall.

As you arrived, you sat on your designated seat, beside him. Out of all places that you could sit on, why did you decide to sit beside him? You’ve been distancing yourself from the older Moriarty lately, all those thoughts that kept you occupied were thoughts of him; his smile, his charms, the way he treats you, those are all the things you kept thinking of, and maybe even a few thoughts of you and him in a relationship.

How scandalous, it would be impossible for a lower class woman to be in a relationship with an upper class man, especially someone working in the military like Albert. “Y/N?” Your train of thought was interrupted once more when the second Moriarty called your name, you snapped out of your trance and looked at him, he seemed to be halfway done with his food along with his two brothers, “are you alright? You haven’t touched your food,” you hadn’t noticed that your food was already served for almost 15 minutes ago.

You gave William a smile and said that you were fine, you picked up your spoon and your smile immediately dropped, you used your spoon to grab a portion of (favorite food) and ate it, you continued eating until your plate was empty. Minutes later, everyone was finished with their meals and you were ready to leave.

“Stay, it has been a while since we all chatted together,” said the older Moriarty as he gently grabbed your wrist before you could walk away, your heart started beating fast; his smooth hands was holding your wrist, his gaze and attention were all on you, and that charming smile of his seems to be hypnotizing you even more.

How you wished you had the courage to stay and chat with your friends without looking like a tomato, but you were trying to fix this unrequited feelings of love and the only way you can think of is to be distant. “I wish I could,” you said as you looked away, “but I have things to do right now, sorry.” You pulled away from his touch and ran out of the dining room, you rushed your way to your chambers and immediately closed the door, you heaved out a sigh of relief before collapsing yourself on the floor.

After you left the dining hall, William looked at his older brother with worry. “Did something happen between you two?” asked the younger Moriarty, the older one shook his head as he grabbed his glass of wine, “not that I know of, she’s been ignoring me a lot lately.” The older Moriarty stared at the liquor as he swirled his wine glass, “I’ll speak to her later,” said Albert as he took a sip of his wine.

Hours later and it’s already half past 19:00 (7 PM), you left the room with the intention of grabbing a snack, it seems the residence was quiet today, maybe they went out without informing you. You walked your way to the kitchen and looked around and even checked in the ice box for any possible snacks that you could nibble on while staying in your room, you found your favorite pastries and grabbed a plate to place a few amount that will satisfy you.

“Ah, Y/N, perfect timing,” you froze from your spot and tried to hide the plate of pastries that you grabbed, for heaven’s sake, it looked like you were stealing. You turned around and to your surprise, it was the oldest Moriarty brother standing a few feet away from you with both of his hands behind him. “Albert,” you spoke as you tried to hide the plate, but that was useless for he already knew what you were doing minutes before he even spoke up, “is there something you need?”

“I need to talk to you,” said Albert as he walked towards you, you couldn’t walk any further without bumping your back onto the wall, so you stood still and waited for him to speak. “What is it?” you asked as you tried to maintain eye contact without turning as red as a tomato.

“I have just noticed that you were distancing yourself from me, did I do something to upset you?” You weren’t expecting him to ask you directly and notice you were ignoring him, but then again, this is a Moriarty brother we’re talking about. “You noticed?” you mumbled softly, but he heard it clearly and gave you a nod, you apologized and told him you weren’t feeling well for the past few weeks, you sputtered out an amount of excuses to cover up the fact that the sole reason you were ignoring him was because you fell in love with him.

While you were sputtering out excuses, Albert retracted his hand from behind and placed his index finger in front of your lips as a way of keeping your mouth shut, you immediately stopped talking as he handed you a (chosen flower). You were surprised as you looked at the flower and back to him, he gave you a smile and waited for you to accept the flower from him. “What’s this for?” you asked as you grabbed the flower from him, you tried to calm your quick heartbeat and placed a hand over your chest before looking back at him.

“What do you think?” said Albert, he wasn’t going to give the answer so easily, you looked back at the flower and noticed that there was a folded paper attached to the stem, you grabbed the small paper and unfolded it to see the message written inside.

“I love you,” was written neatly in a beautiful penmanship, your cheeks turned red and you felt like you were in a dream, you looked back at Albert and asked, “are you okay with me being a commoner?” He looked surprised when you asked him that question, he chuckled and shook his head as he grabbed your hand and kissed it while looking at you, “your status doesn’t matter to me, my dear.”

☎ 𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚'𝒔 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆: well, here you go! this feels a little too short or rushed, i’m sorry about that! story requests are still closed, slots are full! thank youuuu so much! visit the bibliotheca again, darling! we’re always open for a good read! stay safe, love!

[witcherscrane]

Pointy Medallions - The Beginning

Jaskier stared at the brightly coloured doublet in his hands, running his thumb over the material as he thought back to past years. He's had so many experiences, seen so many things, fell in love, got his heartbroken, then had his love come back to him and help mend the broken pieces. There was a splash at the far end of the room and Jaskier looked up just in time to see Geralt walking over to him, stark naked, a look of concern on his face.

"Everything alright?" Geralt asked and Jaskier smiled, shaking his head.

"Yes, sorry. Just thinking." Jaskier smiled still as he looked back down at the doublet in his hands. He let out a surprised squeak when Geralt's lips landed on his temple, the wolf letting out a small playful growl.

"You should really stop that. It gets you into trouble." Geralt said and Jaskier laughed, swatting the Witcher away.

"Shoo. I'll be there in but a moment." Jaskier said happily, watching as Geralt gave him one sidelong glance before grinning and walking back across the room.

Jaskier sighed as he watched that magnificently chiseled body dip into the hot waters of Kaer Morhen's hot springs, still believing it was all a dream and he wasn't actually here. He had died and gone to heaven.

"Hey, buttercup!" Jaskier yelped as Lambert came up behind him, draping his arms over the bard's shoulders. "You getting in or what?" Lambert grinned as Jaskier swatted him away with his doublet.

"What is with you sneaky shits! Off with you!" Jaskier said with a laugh and Lambert grinned as he began to undress.

"Leave the bard be, Lambert." Vesemir grumped and the youngest wolf just smiled, stripping his clothes quickly and ruffling Jaskier's hair as he walked by. The bard's eyes followed his back, his brow lifting slightly as he stared at an oddly shaped scar on the young wolf's back. Jaskier quickly finished undressing and went to the pool where Geralt and the other Witcher's had gathered.

The White Wolf smiled and offered his hand to Jaskier, helping the bard into the pool and manhandling the bard into his lap as they both settled in. Eskel was grinning across the way at them while Coen made kissy faces at both of them.

"You're both sickeningly adorable." Lambert grumped, the hulking mass of a Witcher known as Letho nodding slowly in agreement with a small smirk as Geralt flicked water a Lambert from over Jaskier's shoulder.

"Shut up, you're no better with the Cat." Geralt said and as if on cue, Aiden came charging out from now where and cannonballed into the pool, splashing everyone and everything within the few feet of the pool.

"Gah~ What the fuck, Cat?!" Vesemir growled and Aiden just grinned broadly, dark chestnut hair sprawled wildly about his face from the water, and slid over to Lambert like an actual feline and curled up against his side.

"Did no one teach you manners?" Eskel asked Aiden and the Cat just laughed.

"See? This is why I like Lambert better. He's more fun." Aiden grinned while the other wolves rolled their eyes. Jaskier just smiled as he listened to the Witcher's bicker at one another, leaning against Geralt's chest as he just watched. His brow lifted slightly as he took each Witcher in, all the wolves had flat faced medallions, as well as Aiden and Letho, Coen the only one who wore an actual "head" of a griffin around his neck. Jaskier looked closer, taking note of the individual marks on their chests, some off-kilter than the others.

Jaskier spun in his seat on Geralt's lap, the Witcher's attention on him now as Jaskier traced his fingers over the jagged scar in the middle of his chest and Geralt's brow lifted as Jaskier turned back around and squinted as he looked at Lambert, then Eskel. Oh. Oh no.

"Why do you all have the same scar pattern on your chests?" Jaskier suddenly blurted, successfully drawing all conversations to a dead stop and ever Witcher was now staring at Jaskier.

"What?" The bard looked between them all, turning to look back at Geralt and the wolf coughed, looking away.

"That, bard, is something Witcher's called "Trial of the Scar". All Witcher's have it." Vesemir said.

"Coen doesn't." Jaskier supplied helpfully, the Griffin now scowling.

"That's cause Coen isn't a full-fledge Witcher yet." Lambert snarked and Aiden grinned.

"Oh fuck you." Coen growled, rolling his eyes, and Jaskier frowned.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"You didn't do anything, Little Lark." Geralt cut him off, kissing his cheek.

"It's a secret fucking Trial no one talks about." Coen growled. "And since there are pretty much no Griffin's left, I never learned what the fuck it meant. I have plenty of fucking scars, why the hell didn't I pass yet?" Coen asked Vesemir, the old wolf simply smirking, and motioned to his exposed torso and it's display of scarring.

"You need a certain type of scar, lad." Vesemir said. Coen glowered at him, glaring at the other Witcher's smirking faces.

"I'm out." Coen growled and started to crawl out of the pool, muttering about scarring and medallions and how it should be good enough. In all his growling grumbling, he missed the part that the ground around the pool was still very much soaked with the water Aiden managed to get everywhere and miscalculated his foothold and slipped. Everyone watched but Jaskier, who stared in shock, and grinned broadly and tried to contain their snickering as Coen lost his balance and landed on his front with a hard smack.

Jaskier cupped his hands over his face, wincing, that had to have hurt. He watched as Coen just laid there, gorgeously shaped buttocks on display, before groaning loudly and rolled onto his back.

"Fuckin' fuck." Coen said and sat up, looking down at his chest and made a face as the sharp edges of his medallion were now buried in his chest, blood weeping out from the edges. Jaskier stared at Coen as the Witcher reached up and gingerly pried the medallion from his skin, hissing as the edges dug into his skin even more as he pulled the chain, and Jaskier's eyes suddenly went wide as his head whipped around and he stared at the scar on Geralt's chest for a beat then looked at his Witcher's face. Geralt not meeting his eye as he looked around the room like everything else was suddenly very interesting.

"Congratulations, Coen." Vesemir suddenly said. "You passed." Coen stared at Vesemir like the old man had growl another head, holding his medallion away from his now blood dripped chest.

"Pardon?" He asked dumbly.

"I have a new medallion for you, a flat one, in my chambers. We can go get it once we are done here." Vesemir said like it was the most casual thing and Jaskier's mouth dropped.

"In the fucking bath!!" Lambert suddenly yelled, holding his sides as he laughed so hard he dipped under the water in the pool. Everyone, save for Jaskier and Coen, burst into laughter at the Griffin's expense and something clicked for Jaskier.

"Oh, my, gods! You all did something like that?!" He looked at Geralt and the wolf coughed, laughing as he covered his mouth to try and stifle the laughter, Jaskier looked at Letho as the Viper was the first to regain himself.

"How'd you get yours?" Jaskier asked and Letho just shrugged, looking away. "Oh, come on!"

"Big bad Viper over there did one pushup too many." Aiden said with a grin. "With two of his brothers on his back, I might add." Aiden said and Letho shot a glare with no heat behind it at the Cat. Jaskier covering his mouth as he smiled wide.

"This coming from the man who fell out of a tree cause he was napping." Letho shot back and Aiden gasped in mock offense, Jaskier shutting his eyes tightly as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'll have you know it was a wonderous nap!" Aiden said.

"Right until you fell out." Lambert added with a smirk and laughed when Aiden slapped him.

"You're fucking shitting me." Coen breathed, looking at Eskel. "How'd you get yours then?" The scarred Witcher looked off to the side, coughing as a blush crept over his face.

"Fell on Lambert." Eskel mumbled.

"I'm sorry… You what now?" Jaskier said, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

"I fell on Lambert." Eskel said louder and Jaskier let out a snort, covering his mouth again to try and hide his growing smile but then gasped as he pointed at the youngest wolf.

"Is that why you have a weird scar on your back?!" Jaskier asked excitedly and Lambert's face turned bright red.

"No, fuck off." Lambert growled and Eskel glanced at his brother.

"Yes, it fucking is, you ass hole." Eskel grouched and Lambert rolled his eyes

"It wasn't even my fault!" He snapped and Eskel scoffed.

"If you didn't eat all the damn food that night we wouldn't have needed to go hunting for more." Eskel said then looked at Jaskier, pointing his thumb at Lambert. "This idiot goes off, eats all the venison that was prepared so we had to go out in the middle of a fucking blizzard to find more!" Eskel looked back at his brother. "Then he went and tripped in a snowbank!" Jaskier laughed, he couldn't hold it anymore, leaning against Geralt as he held his sides while the Witcher kept his head above water.

"Oh fuck off, old man! You would have tripped too!" Lambert growled.

"No, I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have been bitching about the cold and the hunt, instead I would be watching where I was putting my damned feet!" Jaskier laughed harder at Eskel's words, the scarred Witcher looking back at Jaskier. "This fucking idiot trips, while I'm the one carrying the buck we managed to find. The second he goes down, I don't have time to catch myself before I'm tripping over the little shit, and both of us got squished by a three hundred pound buck!" Jaskier chokes on his spit, doubling over and he laughs so hard he can't breathe properly and Geralt began to wonder if his poor bard was going to die from lack of oxygen.

The Witcher's all watched as Jaskier laughed, giving the poor man time to regain himself, Geralt gently rubbing circles on his back while Jaskier coughed and shook his head to try and stop his laughter. Once he finally calmed enough, sputtering now and then, Geralt smiled when the bard looked at him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

"Better?" Geralt asked and Jaskier nodded, giving one final little sputter before taking a deep breath and letting it out loudly. His eyes dropping to the mark on Geralt's chest.

"How'd you get yours?" Jaskier asked and Geralt let out a harsh sigh.

"Lambert tripped me." Geralt said and Jaskier barked a laugh, covering his mouth again.

"Pardon?" Jaskier asked, trying to not laugh again.

"Lambert and I had a bet, who could finish the Killer faster." Jaskier looked over at Lambert, the youngest wolf grinning. "The little fuck saw I was about to win, so… He stuck his foot out and tripped me." Geralt grumbled and Jaskier started chuckling again.

"You should have seen it!" Lambert said excitedly. "He had this look of utter cockiness on his face when he was about to cross that finish line." Lambert grinned. "Then, wham! Tripped and bounced his way right into a wall!" Lambert started laughing alongside Jaskier, the poor bard's sides seizing with the amount of laughter, leaning heavily against Geralt as the White wolf groaned but had a fond smile on his face.

"The name is more of a… Hmmm, formality." Vesemir said, watching his pups. "It would be bad for our reputation for people to learn that we can be just as clumsy as them." The old wolf added and Jaskier's head tilted some, staring at the old wolf's chest.

"How'd you get yours then?" The bard asked and Vesemir coughed.

"I was practicing sword techniques with Rennes." Vesemir said. "Over compensated my footing." Vesemir had closed his eyes, shrugging his shoulders, and every Witcher in the pool stared at him with a lifted brow.

"Sword techniques, huh?" Eskel said with a grin.

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Lambert asked.

"I don't think sword practice involved that much noise." Letho grinned. Jaskier looked about, completely lost.

"I don't get it." Jaskier looked at Geralt and the wolf grinned down at Jaskier and surprised the smaller man when he suddenly stood up and threw the dripping wet bard over his shoulder and, carefully, climbed out of the pool.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Lambert called after them.

"Practicing sword techniques." Geralt called back and Jaskier's head snapped up when Geralt gave his bare cheeks a good solid smack, the bard's eyes growing wide as he stared at Vesemir. The old wolf's cheeks coloured a bright blush and Jaskier burst out in laughter again as Geralt carried him bare ass naked to their room.

[zhaozaipalooza]

Your Weekly Drabble! - Day 1 | Festival

The missing drabble for LuZhao mini-week where I brought to you Holi? — here it is! ✨

The court painter fiddled with the array of tools at his side - paled slightly, lips forming a curse - then quickly bit it down, stammering about getting a few supplies before he excused himself. Red curtains framing the prince’s portrait-to-be settled behind him.

Lu Ten sprang from his seat. He paced to drum out his annoyance through the silks lining the floor. When that didn’t work, he ducked out of the same opening. 

A massive, tiled chamber cleared of the average riches piled in a palace room, sunlight streaming from the corridor outside, gave him more breath than his lungs knew what to do with. When the day glowed, he couldn’t resist the same - not as a child, not as a princeling aware of his place in a turning world, fire in his heart and fingers. Dance with me, sing with me, run with me, said the sun… and Lu Ten followed.

The rays guided his eyes over ornate fixtures, twisting pillars and rosy walls, to a guard stationed beside the open door. His helmet was clutched in a free hand to keep it from slipping over his eyes. He caught Lu Ten smiling, and mustered a look of confidence. 

Peace that uncommonly smoothed Zhao’s face - in his presence, no one else’s - was knocked off when Lu Ten jabbed a fist into his side. “Yip!” His eyes bugged, rubbing at the sore spot.

“Loosen up! You’re only in charge of me and the, uh…” he cleared his throat, “snail sloth. And no thief is going to steal the wallpaper.”

“It’s only been half an hour.” He gripped the helmet. “Anything could happen. Do you know how much this sort of position pays? To serve inside palace walls? I’ll never go hungry again.” His lips turned firm. “I wouldn’t have managed to land it without your pull. I can’t go risking it now.”

Zhao grabbed in air when the headpiece slid neatly off his topknot. The prince tucked it in the crook of his arm. “You won’t go hungry again. Ever.” 

“I promise.” Their eyes met, something of more absence than they knew what to do with fleeing their lungs. 

Lu Ten blinked off the daze first, hauling him by the arm behind the curtains, where the painter had abandoned his things. He was first to press his lips to his and linger slowly, sweetly.

Zhao’s laughter was between a rumble and a sigh. “You thought you could get bored when I was right outside?”

“Pah... I have you around for more than that.” He strung a lock of Zhao’s hair around his knuckle, thumb skimming his cheek. Within an instant, Lu Ten tugged free, jumped onto the chair where he was meant to sit motionless for hours - looking so daring and heroic that it was comical. “We’re adventurers! The gods threw us together, watched us train together, conquer together. We’re meant to make history, not lounge around waiting for history to make out who we were from a painting.”

“Hm, now there’s a good point.” His disbelief mingled with awe in Lu Ten’s shadow - one he barely noticed. Zhao laughed more, the sound crinkling with a soft snort. How are you so full of life?

“We could cross the tundra, climb mountain ranges where airbender ruins still whisper to the living,” Lu Ten pantomimed an otherworldly sensation, with a swirling mock of airbending - Sozin’s descendants weren’t taught much in the way of regard. Neither was the nation; Zhao fought a grin. “Or! We could master our firebending under the greatest there ever were… the very first benders to learn from the dragons.”

“The Sun Warriors?” He leaned against the wall, hoping it wasn’t indecorous - some part of him would always feel like an ugly blot in the lap of luxury. Zhao’s memory tingled, “I read of them. Once. Sounded like a tall tale to me. If they existed, they’re far gone now.”

“I say they’re alive and well.” He hopped down. The legs of the chair jerked back. “Fire of every color thrives there. Blue, purple, green, all blazing hot. Colors that don’t have names! There’s a thousand stairs to reach the golden temple behind a sea of clouds, and once you-”

“Come on, green fire? Your head’s stuck in a sea of clouds. I say tundra.”

“Stuck in a- you hate snow!” The prince’s huff spoke easily for him after all the time they’d spent together: dream a little! He gave Zhao one of his father’s looks and went to the pigments sitting in neat boxes in a larger hinged case, and grumbled again. This one stood for that sore loser…

“He hasn’t even mixed the powders into paints. I can tell where he sourced some of them - the white is crushed seashells, it looks like. Fragile, tiny shells… Four hours is starting to look like ten.”

“Green fire, purple fire, ooh,” Zhao was teasing, “What’s next, each of them stand for a pillar of society? Yellow for contracts, green for tea, pink for… hm, intercourse? I think we should start with that one when we get th-”

A creative itch had sprouted a full-out snarkfest; the prince suddenly twisted, flinging a fistful of ground powder in his guard’s direction. Outside of these walls they were lieutenant and ensign, soldiers homeward-bound if luck was on their side.

“Or maybe it stands for paying a little more respect.” Lu Ten smirked, hands at his hips. “Not that you’ve ever followed that pillar of society.”

Zhao shielded his face too late, swiped off the glimmering traces. Face ajar and upturned at his nerve.

Here, they were a lot younger, and they were home. As young as they should be.

“So that’s how it is.”

One half-hour stretched out for twenty more minutes, the seconds passing like snow in a blizzard. Fun thinned time, after all, dragging the sun higher into the sky, melting down their reservations. “You want to learn from the Sun Warriors? Well, I’m twice the warrior you are, and Agni knows my family has the divine blessing of the sun - so why not learn a lesson or two?”

“You’re on.”

Lu Ten ripped each box loose and scattered them outside the curtains; clouds of mushed petals, the deep green of palm leaves, a reddish rust like clay shingles, and pale alabaster shells - all drifting in the air like trails of smoke. The prince was splattered, his friend powdered head to foot like a circus novelty, and their laughter shook the gleaming (once spotless) hall.

“Get back here, get back here- oh no you d- ack!” Fingers smudged like they’d been rooting in the royal kitchen and licking off cream, sleeves rolled and rumpled, armor stripped so their feet could race lightly back and forth on the slippery floor.

“I’m over here, old man!”

Endless, Zhao thought, let this moment be endless. Bare skin freckled in a dizzying prism of sight and scent; he’d thrown something of tartness, plunged through the aroma of flowers to streak Lu Ten’s beaming face. He ceded him the point, returned with a swipe of orange made from dried seeds, dusting the top of his head like a showy plume. He puffed out a pale wisp. Lu Ten folded, cradling his colorful, aching gut.

They ended sprawled wide, one on top of the other, undistinguished from anything. Littering the crook of his collar, neck, cheek, and ear with kisses, the one pinned muffling a fit with the back of his palm.

“Hey,” Zhao rolled aside, the both of them heaving, trained on the hazy light pooled in the ceiling. “Don’t fire that painter.”

“Huh?” Soaking in the quiet, Lu Ten glanced over.

“He’s new to this. Wracked with nerves. Who knows if he’s trying to make ends meet? Give him a chance.” Like you did me.

The prince thought it over. “Of course. Snap judgements are more my uncle’s thing.”

“Oh gods, does he scare me.” They spent the little breath they’d scraped together snickering.

The Firelord’s firstborn accompanied the worrisome painter to pay his son a visit… No sooner had they entered the corridor did the spray of lavender on a flowerpot clue the artist to go lightheaded.

Iroh hurried to promise his compensation, divined the prince’s likely attitude to having to wash off and remain statuesque until dinner, and decided the best course of action.

The painter was redirected to capture the fiasco in a sketch, nearly abstract: both boys with their arms looped over shoulders, a smile held in their eyes as long as their warmth was close. The young man tutted under his breath as he improvised, following the stains and speckles on Lu Ten and Zhao with a deft fingertip. In the final touches, he seemed to have enjoyed himself, too.

“You should join us for dinner.” It was sundown. The prince held the piece of parchment gingerly, softening whenever his eye crossed it again.

Adventurers.

His father had extended the gesture, son nodding along. “No, no, I couldn’t.” Zhao held up his palms, still tinged with a sea of floral and earthen smells. “The pay as a royal guard is plenty, even for a temporary station… I can look after the rest myself. I know how.”

“It would be bad manners for us to let a guest leave without experiencing the most of their stay.” The general’s eyes twinkled. “And here is the best of the best! Meals so fulfilling they leave room for fifth helpings.”

“You are more than a royal guard here.” A warm, heavy palm took Zhao’s shoulder. “As close as you are to my son, I think of you as my own.”

All he knew, even decades after the best meal of his life, was that things would have gone a lot differently if he had refused.

- - -

What a dark path, the one that lay down the other fork in the road. Thankfully, in this life, Zhao had not strayed.

The city was rife with celebration, lanterns dazzling the canals as their reflections bobbed in the water. Brilliant red, jade, and silvery powders made from starch and ground herbs coasted the night air. 

A young girl in braids scampered down the pavement - chin purpled, hair smattered with blues and greens - and leaped into Zhao’s arms. He spun on a heel with her momentum, hearing a shriek of delight before her fists anchored themselves in his front. 

“This is the best! I never want to sleep again. And Ma bought me these!” She placed a warm cake before his face, expectant, and he nibbled off one end. Sweet bean paste.

Her smile revealed the gap between her teeth; snuggling to his chest again, she sighed in content. “It’s so pretty… How come this wasn’t around when you were a kid?”

“Well,” Zhao rocked her gently, an unconscious swaying that soothed her since she could crawl. “It’s actually for someone very special. He was alive when I was young. I knew him. Firelord Iroh wants the world to know him, too.”

Her eyes lit up. “I read about him in school. I tell my friends, ‘My daddy knew a prince!’ and they ask so many questions.” Zhao laughed softly, and she asked, “What was he like? Really like?”

He thought it over. “… Like this. Just like this.” Like what? Lights and colors flickered over the darkness, an endless sun, a glow that rose and went on forever. 

“Wonderful.”