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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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The Aftermath || LN4 {9}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando risks upsetting the FIA to give you the memorial they denied a year ago. Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, fluff, tearful Lando 🥺 WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“Ride with us!”

You frowned down at Lando’s grinning face from the balcony above the garage thinking you had heard him wrong. “What?”

He pointed to the grid where the trailer for the parade was hooked up and waiting. “You too, maman.”

Maria squeezed your arm with a smile as she turned towards the stairs. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Lando met you at the bottom, his arm curling around your waist as he guided you to the gate at the back while Zak walked with Maria. His lips brushed your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “Think something’s going on with those two?”

You smiled at the sound of Maria’s laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know, but as long as she’s happy then it’s got to be a good thing.”

Lando’s hands gripped your waist and lifted you into the back of the trailer before he leapt up to join you. It was only once you had taken hold of the rail tightly that you spared a glance around the other drivers and noticed they all carried wreaths.

“What’s that?”

Lando shrugged shyly as he stepped in behind you, one hand holding the rail with you and the other waving to the crowd. “Since you missed the memorial at home I thought maybe we could have one of our own.”

You turned away from the crowd and he dropped his waving hand to cage you between his arms as the truck began to drive down off the grid, saving you from jostling at the sudden movement.

“Won’t the FIA have a problem with that?”

“What can they do? Penalise all of us?” he laughed. “And if it’s a fine, we’re happy to pay it.”

“They’ll blame you.”

“They’ve made so many wrong conclusions, but at least they would be right this time,” he joked. “Relax, love, it’ll be fine.”

Lando went back to waving to the fans and you smiled at the ones who held up signs for René, most of them orange hearts or the French flag with his driver number in the middle.

It wasn’t long that the smooth ride slowed and the trailer came to a stop at the barrier that had long since been replaced but you still saw the mangled metal and oil slick in your mind's eye.

You startled a little when Lando’s hand came to rest on yours and gently pulled it free of the rail. You shook your head to clear the image and the sounds of the track returned along with Lando’s calm voice as he murmured encouraging words in your ear.

You focused on his voice as he jumped off the back of the trailer before offering his hands to catch you next. Already the other drivers had made their way off track and were placing the bouquets and wreaths along the barrier. Some whispered quiet prayers and signed the cross, while others took a moment to reflect in silence.

You drifted over to the barrier with Lando at your side and sank to your knees in the soft grass running your fingers through the blades, waiting for the crushing weight to settle into your chest. The seconds ticked by as the wind picked up, the breeze a cooling welcome touch to your skin, but still the pain never came. There was only the permanent sense of sadness that hung like a small cloud in the sky no matter how sunny the day was.

“I miss you,” you whispered as you plucked a single red rose from the bouquet Lando held. Its sweet scent reminded you of the garden you had planted with René at home and the thorns dug into your palm as your hand tightened around the stem before you laid it among the rest. “You should see your fans. There’s so much love for you here, I can feel it all around me. Your mum was right.”

The drivers started to make their way back to the trailer and Lando pressed a kiss to your forehead. “When I was waiting beside him at the altar he made me promise if anything happened to him that I would take care of you. I never got to say the words to him because the doors opened and you walked in looking like an absolute angel,” his voice was thick with emotion and he cleared his throat before placing his bouquet with the others. “You have my word, René, I swear on my life.”

He grabbed the sunglasses tucked into the collar of his hoodie, pushing them over his red eyes and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he buried his head in your neck.

“He knows, babe,” you murmured as you rubbed his back until the small shudders of his silent sobs eased, being his strength for once. Neither of you acknowledge the damp marks on your shoulder, neither of you said a word as he looked at the flowers once more before heading back to the trailer.

“Take as long as you need, love,” he said quietly as he went.

You stood alone absorbing the moment, basking in the love that was surrounding you as you touched the cold metal barrier and looked back at Lando to see Maria placing her hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Watch over him, Ren. Please keep him safe, for me.”

You were drunk, and so was Lando. There was no other way to put it. Finishing third had not been expected after the car’s performance in qualifying but, by luck or miracle, the conditions had been perfect for him to set a fast pace and move up the grid. So, needless to say, you were celebrating the hell out of the accomplishment with Lando in a packed nightclub full of his supporters and team.

“I’m so proud of you, baby!” The smile hadn’t left your face since he passed the chequered flag but with all the alcohol in your system you couldn’t feel the ache of the muscles in your cheeks. You cupped his face and traced his dimples with your thumbs before kissing him and getting lost in the spur of the moment.

“I love you and I am so lucky to have you.” There was no stopping the words flowing from your mouth, you were too excited for him since it had been a while since his last podium. The pressure from his Principle to get more points could finally ease a little and he was already looking more relaxed. “I think I drank too much, the room's kind of spinning.”

Lando’s laugh was contagious as he took the glass of champagne from your hand and finished it for you with a suggestion to dance instead. It took far longer than expected to make it through the crowd to the dance floor with everyone wanting to stop and congratulate him but you were happy to take it slow seeing how happy it made him.

He eventually extracted himself from the crowd and caught up to where you had found yourself under the lights and amongst the swell of people dancing the night away. His fingers laced with yours as he drew your hands up his body before he draped them around his neck and he pulled you closer.

You didn’t even notice the hundreds of people around you when Lando started moving against you. There was nothing but him and the music that his hips moved to, and the sound of his voice as he brushed his lips below your ear.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful, love.” The song changed and you turned in Lando’s arms deciding to tease him back as you danced against him, rolling your hips to the sensual music. His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into your hips where they had come to rest. “We need to leave before I do something very naughty right here in front of all these people.”

You peeked over your shoulder to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his glazed eyes full of promise. “But this is your party.”

“So I can do what I want, and I want you.” He kissed the space where your shoulder met your neck. “You’re driving me crazy.”

You stepped out of his touch, immediately missing the warmth of his body against your back, and took his hand. A grin grew on his face when you tugged him forward and he was quick to overtake you on the way to the door, separating the crowd and keeping you tucked in behind his body like a shield.

The cool air of the night hit your lungs and a shiver rolled down your spine at the sudden drop in temperature until Lando pulled you closer and waved for a taxi. It was hardly worth putting the seat belt on for how far down the road the car was going to take you but after Lando had opened the door for you he had walked around the car and taken his seat he had tutted after seeing the belt buckle empty.

“Not on my watch, love,” he said as he reached over you and grabbed the belt. “I need you safe and sound.”

Your lips pressed into a line when you tried to hide your amusement at his protectiveness. “Yes, daddy.”

His eyes flashed to yours and he curled an eyebrow up before he started biting his bottom lip again. “What did you say?”

The taxi pulled into the hotel entrance and you didn’t wait for Lando to come and open your door. You were already walking to the room as fast as your high heels would allow while he rushed to pay for the fare.

You could hear him racing to catch up when you turned down the hall that your suite was on. A squeak escaped before you could silence it when he caught up and pinned you to the door with his body, his lips stealing the soft moan that followed.

“What. Did. You. Say?” he enunciated between each kiss as he swiped his card over the handle and opened the door.

You almost fell backwards as it suddenly swung open but Lando’s arm curled around your waist and pulled you flush against him. Your lips parted with a heady sigh as you felt his hard length begging to be freed from his jeans but he smirked and shook his head when you tried to reach for him.

“Uh-uh, I’m still waiting,” he tutted as he walked you backwards into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “I want to hear that little quip again, love.”

You teased him with a smile as you reached behind your back for the zip that kept your dress on. “I didn’t realise you were so eager to be a father.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chuckled as he moved your hand and dragged the zip slowly down your spine. “But with you it wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad?” you repeated with a cocked eyebrow and a playful smile. “I understand the ‘no rizz Norris’ now.”

The material slipped down your body and you felt Lando’s exhale warm across your neck before he kissed your racing pulse. “Do you want me to tell you how much I would love to settle down with you, start a family and grow old with you? Because I will. I want it all. With. You.”

You tilted your head to give him more access as his words and the alcohol made your head spin. All of the futures you had once thought would be with René had died with him, but they came crashing back with Lando and you could see it playing out in your head. “When were you planning on telling me this?”

He smirked as his hands trailed down your body before he grabbed your thighs and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way to the bedroom. “When you called me daddy.”

Click here for part ten.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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jobean12-blog · 1 year

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A Kiss to Remember

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Word Count: 930

Summary: Bucky invites you to spend the weekend at his cottage in the woods.

Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Writing Challange. I chose a cottage setting and the item I picked was a sundress. My dear friend Em @weekendgothgirl had shared the gorgeous picture of the cottage you see in my moodboard below and it sparked some real inspo! I love the idea of the dark vs light so I went with that a little bit! Thank you Em for sharing and thank you Navy and Roo for hosting! And thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️ Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Warnings: some soft sweet moments, a brief mention of b-l-o-o-d, pretty flowers :)

“I wish I could see more of our surroundings,” you muse as James drives down a secluded road toward his summer cottage.

You press yourself closer to the window, the glass cold to your touch and peer out into the hidden landscape.

“The darkness holds its own beauty,” he answers softly, his long fingers resting on our bare thigh. “Everything is transformed in the absence of daylight.”

Your soft hum of approval makes him smile as he absentmindedly caresses your skin, his touch keeping you warm despite the nighttime chill.

He finally makes a turn down a dirt road that winds around until you’re in a remote part of the woods. Up head, enclosed in a small wrought iron gate you see a cottage.

It’s nestled among a tapestry of vibrant flowers, their colors standing out against the veiled darkness. The silvery moonlight casts long, shadowy silhouettes upon its aged, timbered walls.

Amidst the dense foliage, the somber atmosphere is intensified by the interplay of moonbeams filtering through the twisted branches above, casting a haunting glow upon the colorful petals of the blooms.

Flickering candlelight softly illuminates the cottage’s small, latticed windows and adds a touch of ethereal beauty, inviting and beckoning you inside.

“Oh, Bucky!” you exclaim, your eyes wide. “I can’t wait to see the inside!”

James chuckles, squeezing your leg before he removes his hand and opens the driver side door. He rounds the car and helps you out, taking your hand on his elbow as he walks you down the small brick pathway to the door.

“I can smell the roses,” you whisper, closing your eyes on an inhale.

You sigh quietly, stopping to grasp a stem and press the fragrant petals to your nose.

James watches you, remaining quiet as you take in every little detail of the cottage before stepping into the doorway.

He stares, his blue eyes darkening as he takes you in.

Your bright sundress is a stark contrast to the deep, dark wood of the cottage and the vibrancy of your aura creates a captivating scene.

James steps closer, his large body caging you against the door.

“You’re a vision,” he whispers. “Like a ray of pure sunshine.”

He procures a rose, out of nowhere, and twirls it between his fingers before he glides the silky petals along your collarbone.

When he lifts it to your nose, you let the softness and sweet fragrance fill your senses then take it between your fingers.

His fingertips trace the neckline of your dress, a slow, sensual claiming before moving to the thin strap at your shoulder. He toys with it, letting it slide down so his fingers can continue their perusal.

Your eyelashes flutter along your cheeks and your grasp tightens around the rose’s stem, causing you to prick your thumb on a hidden thorn, drawing blood.

“Ow,” you hiss, lifting your hand to your mouth.

James grabs your wrist, gently, but as he watches the small drop of blood trickle down your finger his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“I’m ok,” you assure him, thinking he’s reacting because you’re in pain.

“Doll,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly brings your finger to his lips.

You let out a small gasp when his cold lips touch your skin, his tongue tracing the tip of your thumb to lick it clean of blood.

A delicate and tingling warmth radiates through your body from the contact, spreading like an electric current through your brain. As if James senses your response he growls low and deep before releasing your thumb and dragging you into his chest.

His embrace is warm despite the chill left in the air and you melt against him, still pressed along the door, his large body a welcome weight.

“You taste exquisite,” he breathes out as he dips his head.

His lips brush yours, softly at first, like a whisper. You feel yourself falling, consumed by him in a way that leaves you wanting and desperate for more, for anything he will give you.

With every passing second your heart beats faster and the kiss loses its gentleness and becomes more urgent.

“Please James,” you find yourself saying, begging.

His lips trail across your jaw as his hand slides up your body, stopping just at the base of your neck. He pulls away to look you in the eyes, the familiar blue of his own shining brightly against the darkness that surrounds you.

The pad of his thumb grazes along the column of your throat, your pulse beating wildly beneath his touch, until it presses under your chin and he tilts your head back, exposing your neck to him.

In the eerie stillness of the moonlit forest, shadows dance across the splashes of colored foliage and the air is thick with anticipation. You stand out against the dusky backdrop of the cottage, your bright dress barely dimmed by the encroaching dark.

Time slows and even the rustle of leaves fades away as he brings his lips closer, sharp fangs protruding before they delicately scrape over your skin.

You tremble with a whisper of his name and as his fangs pierce your skin the taste of your blood awakens his senses in a way he’s never experienced before. It’s intoxicating, igniting an overwhelming rush of emotions.

Even as your body is drained of life it comes alive with a mix of pleasure and vulnerability and in this fleeting moment you surrender to his embrace.

He savors every drop and with every taste he binds you in an eternal bond.

@randomfandompenguin @flordeamatista @lookiamtrying @sstan-hoe @late-to-the-party-81 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @laineyreads @goldylions @beccablogsthings @justkinsey @book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #vampire!Bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #vampire!bucky x reader #vampire!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes Imagines #vampire au #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #navy and roo's sleepover

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wingedblooms · 1 year

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A rose in the thorns

Remember when Madja told us that the Cauldron made its mark deepest in the mind? And then Sarah showed us this:

The gates to her mind … Solid iron, covered in vines of flowers—or it would have been. The blossoms were all sealed, sleeping buds tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. (acowar)

Her flowers are described as sleeping buds that are tucked into tangles of leaves and thorns. Feyre describes her mental gates this way just before Elain uses powers that might be connected to mystics. And then, as others have pointed out, Sarah shows us this in the next book:

But Mor scented nothing, saw nothing. The tendril of power she speared toward the woods revealed only the usual birds and small beasts. A hart drinking from a hole in an iced-over stream. Nothing, except - There, between a snarl of thorns. A patch of darkness. It did not move, did not seem to do anything but linger. And watch. Familiar and yet foreign. Something in her power whispered not to touch it, not to go near it. Even from this distance. Mor obeyed. But she still watched that darkness in the thorns, as if a shadow had fallen asleep among them. Not like Azriel's shadows, twining and whispering. Something different. Something that stared back, watching her in turn. (Mor's pov, acofas)

A shadowy watcher in the woods, as if it had fallen asleep in the thorns. That imagery is eerily similar to Elain's sleeping buds. As a seer, she can find and watch others from afar.

"This time, you sent the trembling fawn to find me. I did not expect to see those doe-eyes peering at me from across the world." (Suriel, acowar)

Mystics seek a higher consciousness, to become one with the divine. In tog, beings of a higher consciousness are what characters referred to as gods. And what did we learn about them from the memory in the witch mirror?

They had no forms. They were only figments of light and shadow, wind and rain, song and memory. Each individual, and yet a part of one majority, one consciousness. (eos)

If mystics become one with the divine, then this might mean they become part of that greater consciousness, travel like figments of light and shadow. This could explain why Elain is paired with the half-wraith twins and it’s possible her mystical travel might mimic how Feyre moves when she is connected to the Cauldron through a living bond.

I could not remove my hand. Could not pry my fingers away. I was being shredded apart, slowly, thoroughly. I flung my magic out, desperate for any chain to this world to save me, keep me from being devoured by the eternal, awful thing that now tried to drag me into its embrace. Fire and water and light and wind and ice and night. All rallied. All failed me. Some tether slipped, and my mind slid closer to the Cauldron’s outstretched arms. I felt it touch me. And then I was half gone. Half there, standing silently next to the Cauldron, hand glued to the black rim. Half … elsewhere. Flying through the world. Searching. The Cauldron now hunted for that power that had come so close…And now taunted it. [...] Time seemed to slow and warp. The dark power of the king speared toward us. Toward that clearing where I was neither seen nor heard, where I was nothing but a scrap of soul carried on a black wind. (acowar)

Feyre’s connection to her form is shredded and her tether to the world slips as she is embraced by the Cauldron. She travels with it across the battlefield, a scrap of soul on a black wind, and is forced to watch tragic events unfold. Trapped by the Cauldron, Feyre was not able to step out of its black wind shadow to help, but Elain was.

For a moment, I thought the Cauldron had answered my pleas. But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.” (acowar)

And this is probably why Elain’s rose is half-hidden in shadows next to the Mother. Her Cauldron-blessed powers might allow her to be half-there, half-elsewhere when she becomes part of that greater, divine consciousness.

Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess–perhaps even the Mother herself. (acosf)

It’s possible she used this power to locate the Suriel, which was practice for the main event: answering Feyre’s pleas and taking down Hybern in place of the Cauldron. Her Sight—a truth teller itself—likely activated Truth-Teller, guiding her to exactly the right place at the right time. The question is, since she is not bound like Feyre, did she then winnow (ie, travel like Hope through the Void, light cutting through the darkness) to save her family? And has she continued to help them in this way?

Islands of grass dotted the expanse, some so crowded with brambles that he could find no safe place to land. The tangles of thorns were a mockery of what might have been - as if Oorid had ever produced roses. Not a single flower bloomed. [...] Run, a small voice whispered. Run and run, and do not look back. The voice was female, gentle. Wise and serene. Run. [...] Run. Was that voice merely all that remained of her human instincts, or something more? She gazed at her reflection as if it would tell her. Something rustled in the thorns of the island, and she snapped up her head, heart thundering as she scanned for that familiar male face and wings. But there was no sign of Cassian. And whatever was in that bramble...She should find another island to head for. (acosf)

This small voice warning Nesta to run also reminds me of Elain’s warning cry to Feyre before she is Made by the Cauldron.

My sisters were shrieking over their gags. But Elain’s cry—a warning. A warning to—To my right, now exposed, Tamlin ran for me. To grab me at last. I hurled a knife at him—as hard as I could. (acomaf)

Sarah planted Nesta’s questions in the Oorid scene to make us wonder. Is this voice something more? And is Nesta’s reflection, her own flesh and blood, a fun hint? After all, who is even better than the spymaster at keeping secrets, and who would’ve known where Nesta was headed? Elain might have defied her sister’s order (like we knew she would) to stay away from the Cauldron and help yet again, a rose bloom half-hidden in the shadows among the thorns. And I bet she will learn a ritual to help focus and ground her movements.

#elain archeron #a rose bloom #half-hidden in the shadows #next to the Mother #seer elain #mystic powers #higher consciousness = no form #figments of light and shadow #half-wraith twins

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polutrope · 30 days

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King of beech and oak and elm

From the archive (Feb 2022)

A pair of tawny nightingales flitted between birch trunks hewn from rock, singing one to the other. The globes of fireflies hanging from the likeness of a great oak deepened the shadows in the curves of the relief. Passing his thumb through the chiselled clefts, Elu followed their lines to a white rose. The translucent wings of a butterfly rose from its centre, glowing orange in the warm light of the lanterns.

They lay on a green sward gazing up at the fires of Elbereth.

“Ada,” Lúthien said, her child’s voice already full of song, “what is that one named?”

“Thorondûn,” Elu replied, tracing the constellation's lines through the air, “the Eagle of the West.”

“Why do the Eagles come from the West?” she asked.

“They are servants of Aran Einior, the Elder King, and they bring tidings to him of what passes in the Hither Lands.”

“Do you think that he watches us?”

“I am sure that he does,” Elu said, though he could not be sure.

“And that one?” Lúthien pointed, shuffling closer to rest her little head against his chest.

“That is Gwilwileth, the butterfly, that Elbereth set in the sky to give light to the Edhil at their awakening.”

“And you were born there, Ada?”

“Yes, my dear, I began there.” He passed his hand over the silk of her hair, dark as the sky above them. Though he knew the power of her mother slept within her even now, he feared for the tiny body nestled between his arm and torso. He drew her closer to him and pressed his lips against her forehead.

There was no light within the circles of Arda that could compare with her.

Elu traced the lines of a blossom of niphredil , which had bloomed beneath her feet even before she could walk. Laced with the enchantments of his queen, the pale rock turned a bright white and the flower spread its petals at his touch.

She whirled through the forest of elms, their trunks tall and straight, trailing a silvery shawl behind her. The cloth was woven with spells of awakening and each tree she passed hastened its growth and put forth new leaves before their eyes.

The way his minstrel watched her as he played set an unbidden chill on Elu’s heart. There were many who looked at her that way, woman as she now was, and with each worshipful glance in her direction his jealousy grew another thorn. She could not always be his. (No, she had never been his to possess, Melian reminded him, her thought appearing in his mind. But at least she will always be , he replied, and his wife was silent.)

A lean rabbit hid among the ferns, a frightened eye staring out from the wall. Hidden in the branches of an oak, a silver owl watched, wings flexing at the joints, prepared to swoop silently down on its prey. The cycle of life and death, the nutrients of the earth passing from one life to the next–such was the strange fate of Ivann’s creatures.

“You cannot choose her path for her.” Melian rested a gentle hand on his cheek. “Did you not come upon me once, in a wood, and did you not put love before all else?”

“That is not the same!” Elu spun away from her, gripping his temples between finger and thumb. “I forsook all else for a love that would be everlasting, and for a purpose: to bring our child into this world, the most beautiful of any that has ever been or will be. All that I have done has been to ensure her safety and her bliss.”

“Then, my dear, allow her to have that bliss. Allow her to love.” There was a low hum of Music in her voice.

Elu drew in a laboured breath. He had not been able to unsee the image since Daeron brought him word of the intruder: grasping hands at his daughter’s waist, her beauty wrapped in a dark cloud, swelling around her until nothing of her light remained. Nothing of her remained.

He turned to his wife, locking onto the bright points of her eyes. “I will not. Not at such a cost.” (Eru, forgive me.)

Melian’s features hardened and the thin veil of her skin flickered. “Then you bring even greater suffering on us all.”

Crouching to the floor, he ran his fingertips over textured mosses, the stone soft and feathery. The fronds of giant ferns arced over the polished surface of a pond like a canopy; beneath, a pale turtle rested on a rock, his neck outstretched. The crowns of the beeches and branching oaks carved above were reflected in the stony water, obscuring the dark depths beneath.

"You would confine me!" his daughter cried, her face dimmed by sorrow and twisted in anger. "Adar, please, I am not yours to cage." She knelt before him where he sat, stooped in his chair, guilt rising in his throat, fear coiling around his chest, and took his clasped hands between hers. “If you want me to stay, send riders out to call him back. This is needless,” she pleaded.

“Lúthien…” He opened his hands to hold hers. “You will forget this. You will forget him. This is not–” your fate, he wanted to say, but faltered.

“They will appoint it beautifully for you.” he offered, an empty reassurance. “It is not a cage, my love, it is only for–” your protection, he thought but did not say.

She dropped his hands and stood tall and cold above him. “It is a cage.” She glided silently out of the room. He did not go, and she did not come to him, when she left to ascend the ladder to the crown of Hírilorn.

Rising, Elu brushed his fingers over the pearl-wrought wings of moths and their feathered antennae that searched out the smooth bark of a birch. A shadow cast against the wall seemed to send one into flight, darting towards the lantern and disappearing in its light.

The forest was so quiet when he awoke that morning. Not a pleasant, peaceful quiet; a deathly quiet, a silence that thickened the air.

“She is gone,” the guard told him, shame painted in lines down his face.

He should have rebuked him, as a king would, but said only, “... how?”

“She wove a spell, she escaped in darkness.”

Spells inherited not from him, but from her mother; spells woven about his Kingdom, without which there would be no Kingdom; spells that had bound him to Ennor.

“My King? Shall we go after her?” The guard’s voice rippled over his ears. Was it anger he felt pinching at his lungs, tightening the flesh around his bones? For all that he had given, for his sacrifices, for all his love–

“Yes,” he replied, even as he felt her slipping away.

His hand came upon the soft, speckled belly of a thrush perched in the branches of a leafy hawthorn. Another bird pecked at its clustered berries. Elu imagined he heard–or perhaps he did hear–the chatter and trill of its call. Distant but clear came a song in answer.

They returned as heroes and his heart swelled with pride.

“Thank you,” Lúthien said, “for your love.”

He did not deserve her thanks. He did not deserve that jewel that burned now in the belly of the wolf. There was no light within the circles of Arda that could compare with her.

Nonetheless he had taken Beren’s promised price, meagre as it was.

Opals buried seamlessly in the stone, the backs of beetles scurrying across a fallen branch, drew his eyes. He dared not touch them for fear his hands would tarnish their brilliance.

When she returned from death–no, not death, not yet–she looked as hale and lovely as she had the day she was born.

“Ada… you have grown old.”

Elu turned to hide his face from her, ashamed of his grief.

She wrapped her arms about him and the dry frost that numbed his touch was turned to spring's dew upon his cheeks.

“I have chosen my love,” she said, “for Beren.”

He withdrew to look upon her and his own pale grey eyes, bright with joy, looked back at him. “At what cost?”

“Not a cost–a gift. To pass beyond the circles of Arda.”

Elu rested his palms against the cold stone and bowed his head. He wept. These great halls, this beauty, his Kingdom–what had it all been for?

Drawing himself away, he failed to note the empty space where his hand had been, where once a thrush had perched.

#thingol #luthien #melian #my fic

18 notes · View notes

sanctuary1988 · 3 months

Text

~ The Moon That Embraces The Sun | 11 | Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: friends to lovers?, fluff, angst, time skip, soft teasing, flirting?, TENSION!!!!! but like the real deal, loves, yearning, wanting, feelings of confusion and desire, mentions of rebel forces, flower is described to be shorter than Gwi , historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 4.6k words

A/N: SURPRISE, DARLINGS! I hope you are excited for this new chapter as we delve in petal and gwi's story once more! We'll see a closer look at their story and how something starts blooming between them. I'm really excited for this chapter and I wish you'll enjoy it as well, sweet darling of mine ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging @my-day6 and @yumisventingmachine 🙈❤️and special thanks to @my-day6 for helping me out with one scene! I really hope you'll like it, love!

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

~ 2 Years Later…

You walked in the gardens, the petals from the cherry blossoms fell delicately over your form as you danced through nature and your skirts kissed the grass below your feet. The sun bathed you in its golden hue and your beauty shone like a diamond illuminated by rays of love.

Your touch was delicate as you picked some roses to decorate your bedroom, minding the thorns before you straightened back up and walked back to the sacred and hidden place you grew to call your home.

The underground palace was a grandeur construction under the king’s royal palace. It was a sanctuary, a home for you. It became your strength, your virtue when it came to its essence. Few knew about that place’s location but those who did seem to fear the idea of even stepping a foot in there. Some said it was cursed, others said it was haunted by an evil spirit. Others said it was the home of a bloodthirsty monster. But to you, the underground palace represented a pillar of stability in your already chaotic life.

More so because of the mysterious and handsome lord who lived among those walls.

With a soft sigh, you began walking back to the underground sanctuary. The vampire lord allowed you to go out from time to time but it wasn’t for long periods. You didn’t ask the reason behind it, not that you minded. For you found solace within the walls of his dark home and something made you want to stay where he was for as much time as possible.

You descended the stairs with grace and care, your red dress trailing behind you and it wasn’t much longer until the dim light of the underground palace welcomed you back.

The air grew colder with each step and the familiar scent of aged stone and faintly sweet incense filled your senses. The flickering torches made shadows look as if they tried to swallow your form as you walked down the hallway that led to the throne room. Each step grounded you, it took you closer to the man who saved you from a loveless marriage and asked for your soul instead. Each step made you near the large cliff where his secrets swirled at the bottom. A cliff you had been tempted over and over to jump off and drown in his dark soul.

Subconsciously, your grip on the rose bouquet tightened when your eyes fell on Gwi as he sat on his throne with a book in his hands. The candles around him sharpened his features and gave him an ethereal beauty that made you swallow before bowing down at him.

“You’re back.”

He spoke. Acknowledging your presence before him. His eyes lifted from the words written on the book on his lap as they locked on your figure and had you been standing closer to him, you’d have seen the subtle smirk over his lips at the sight of you holding the precious bouquet in your hands. A rose for a rose. He thought to himself as your dress matched the colour of the flowers that were now in your possession.

“Did you enjoy your time outside?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his deep and velvety voice. It caressed you among the stillness of the room and held you ever so fiercely with invisible strings of utter desire. You smiled, looking down at the roses in your hand.

“I did. The cherry blossoms are beautiful at this time of the year, My Lord.”

Gwi hummed to himself, a dark sound that seemed to vibrate within your soul as you looked into his intense eyes that never left your form.

“Come here, petal.”

You obeyed almost immediately. Your feet carried you across the room before you stood in front of him. His large hand extended forward and you understood his silent command as you placed the bouquet on his hand. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver of electricity to crawl up your arms in delightful euphoria.

His dark eyes looked at the flowers in his hold and you could swear you saw how his eyes tinted crimson for a split second before they returned to their usual warmth in a sea of brown secrets.

“You always find beauty in the simplest things, flower.”

Gwi murmured to himself as he examined the roses before his eyes landed on you. He smirked at the sight of your subtle blush that tainted your cheeks like a kiss from an angel. For he was amused by your simplicity and a keen eye for charming things in this dark world he forced you to live in.

“Thank you, My Lord. I brought them to brighten up my room.”

His eyes locked with yours in an instant that had you suppressing a gasp at the intensity with which he drowned you in.

“Your room needs no brightening, your sole presence is enough.”

You were taken aback by his words. Spoken in such darkness but meant to bring light to your soul. You gulped, stammering softly as you took a step back.

“I-I will bring your tea, My Lord. It’s late.”

And with that, you left. Leaving the vampire lord to chuckle to himself as he smelled the beautiful red roses. Not as beautiful as his flower though but charming enough for him to take one for himself. Gwi firmly thought that in one of your past lives, you must have been a flower in his lonely garden.

Otherwise, how else would you carry so much beauty and light within yourself? How else would you be so charming in your way of existing? Your grace and elegance mirrored one of the earth’s jewels. And so, you were not only a beautiful flower that had once existed in his garden but were now a rose that decorated his home with your mesmerising spirit that tangled him in a dance he didn’t know existed in the first place.

You brewed his tea in silence, the image of his intense gaze over you was still plagued in your mind, haunting your reality with wishful dreams. You could still smell the lingering scent of the flowers you had brought even when they were no longer with you. You could still feel the shivers Gwi made you feel with his subtle touch as it brushed your fingers. You could still feel your heart beating wildly inside you, something you thought was no longer a coincidence.

When you returned to the throne room, you could feel Gwi’s intense gaze as you walked towards him while carrying the tray with his steaming tea. You did not look up for you rather busied yourself with arranging his evening beverage than to look at his intense eyes.

His fingers brushed yours as you handed him his cup and in return, he gave you the bouquet you had picked out for yourself.

It was a silent interaction. One that spoke more than words could ever express. Your eyes met his and you nearly gasped at the softness you found within his dark pools of drowning secrets.

“Tonight I have a meeting with the Chief Counsellor. I want you to stay in your room, petal.”

You nodded, gulping down slightly at the harshness that laced his deep voice. A voice that was so melodious to you it chased you in your dreams and lived in your transparent thoughts.

But your silent agreement wasn’t enough for him. Tonight was an important night. A dangerous night but he needed to ensure his sweet flower was safe first. He put the untouched cup of tea aside before his fingers lifted your chin with a tender touch that belied the harshness with which he spoke.

“Don’t disobey me, my flower.”

A glimpse of crimson flashed in his eyes but it was gone as fast as it came and you blinked, trying to find your words under his melting gaze.

“I won’t, My Lord. I promise.”

His touch was gone the next second. A second too fast. Your whispered words carried a strong force that made his heart skip a beat. Something a dead heart wouldn’t do. Your lips parted softly as you stood chained by his gaze alone and his eyes fixed on your pink lips for a moment. An instant. A second that was, yet again, too fast.

“Go to your room, petal.”

You bowed down at him, clutching the roses to your chest so tightly that the thorns would have pierced your skin if you hadn’t taken them out while being in the garden.

“Good night, My Lord.”

The words were rushed as they escaped your lips and you cursed yourself at the slight waver in your voice, your eyes closing momentarily before you hurried away. You walked past him in haste and he inhaled your scent, his eyes closing for a moment, as it lingered in the air for a fragment of time too long. He watched you go, his eyes tainting with crimson desire. With dark emotions, he desperately wanted to suppress. His fingers itched to touch you, hold you and make you his. But the nature of his existence was both stopping him and making it seem impossible to restrain himself.

Gwi downed the tea, needing to feel something other than his racing heart as it thumped wildly within his chest. The tea. The tea you had prepared for him. For his pleasure. His fists clenched tightly, feeling a myriad of emotions that threatened to drown him with the simple existence of a flower in his dead garden.

The vampire lord sat on his throne as he gulped down thick blood from his crystal bowl. The essence of life painted his lips red as he licked it slowly, his eyes were the ones of a monster as he looked down at the Chief Counsellor as he stood before him.

“My Lord, the rumours have gone wild among the people. Tales of your existence have begun plugging the villagers like an illness.”

Gwi ran his tongue over one of his fangs as he looked at the old man with a bored expression on his otherworldly beautiful face. During his extraordinarily long life, rumours had risen within the villagers from time to time but they always quelled after some time and the lack of proof.

“Rumours among the mortals are meaningless. Tell me about what I told you to investigate. Should I eliminate the Crown Prince, Chief Counsellor? Is he plotting rebellion against me?”

Your father visibly swallowed. Gwi’s questions were spoken with sarcasm and a false ideology that the man before him had the upper hand in the conversation.

“I’m still investigating, My Lord.”

The Chief Counsellor hesitated, knowing deep well that any wrong word could be the cause of his downfall and death, so he cleared his throat before continuing with the same monotonous voice.

“However, there are whispers about a recent meeting between the Crown Prince and some of his most trusted advisors. The nature of their discussion is unknown, but it is causing unrest among the nobles.”

Gwi’s eyes gleamed with interest. His mind is already calculating every possible scenario and the best course of action.

“Keep investigating and I want a report of the advisors' moves, weekly.”

The Chief Counsellor bowed down, his eyes never leaving the ones of the powerful vampire lord.

“As you wish, My Lord.”

Wordlessly, Gwi motioned for the man to leave with a gesture of his hand. Your father left the room in silence, leaving the vampire lord alone with his thoughts. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his midnight snack remained on his tongue but his eyes wandered over the expanse of his throne room, his dark eyes caught a glimpse of something lying on the stone floor.

His robes flowed behind him as the vampire lord stood up abruptly and crouched down only for his fingers to grasp a red rose petal. A petal from the flowers you had brought with you. A petal from his flower.

The softness of the petal was a great contrast to the harshness of his touch that held it with a fierce delicacy of possessive desires he was finding more and more difficult to control with each passing moment in your presence.

He looked down the corridor that led to your room, the flickering torches cast long shadows that seemed to swallow his thoughts as he walked down that same path his mind was screaming at him to get away while his heart whispered to continue walking. Yet his heart won a battle that was already lost.

Gwi entered your room, the imposing and tall cherry blossom was the first thing that caught his attention, softly illuminated by the remaining candles that were left alive in the middle of the night. You were asleep, curled under your bedding as the underground palace grew cold when darkness embraced the day and the night ruled over the mind.

He couldn’t help it. Gwi walked towards you. Kneeling next to the bed as his eyes explored your beauty as if he were gazing at a goddess fallen from the heavens above. Your scent, ever so intoxicating, made him want to hold you and tell you the secrets of the universe, however, his hand lingered in the air as he hesitated to bring his touch down and for your skin to grace his palm.

But maybe he could touch you. Maybe it wasn’t wrong to want you. Maybe it wasn’t wrong for the moon to embrace his sun if she was the only cause of his light.

And so, his large palm cupped your cheek gently, his touch feather-like as he marvelled at the softness of your skin under his palm, at the warmth of your beauty under his cold soul.

“Petal of my desires.”

A dark murmur escaped his lips. A murmur lost to the night. Carried by the wind as you weren’t even supposed to hear it. He caressed you softly as if you were a porcelain doll. A delicate petal of a magnificent rose he had in his possession. A queen in his reign of darkness.

Yet the moment was short-lived as you stirred in your sleep, most likely because of whatever dream that filled your mind but it caused him to retract his touch from your skin, standing up quickly as his robes swept the floor with the two steps he took backwards. Gwi sighed, completely mesmerised at your beauty and tranquillity as you slept under his roof, under his guard.

His eyes caught sight of the bouquet you had picked for yourself earlier that day as it now rested on a beautiful vase made of white china decorated with blue flowers. The roses stood proudly, a single candle nearing its existence next to it, illuminating your sisters in nature with sombre shadows that danced freely into the night.

Gwi walked towards the vase, his heightened senses immediately picking up the sweet and delicious scent of the roses. A scent that reminded him of you. Without thinking it much, he took a rose out of the bouquet. A rose for himself. Before he left your room in silent desperation of an intricate desire that almost came to the surface in the harshest way possible. A desire that would never quell as it burned with hellfire and a darkness that lived within Gwi’s very own soul.

Days passed and your roses began to slowly die. The petals darkened and curled in and on themselves as they began to fall onto the small table where your vase rested. But you couldn’t pay them enough attention, not when your mind was occupied by a certain lord that kept you like a crystal rose in his possession.

You were currently in the library, trying to distract your mind from Gwi as you browsed for a new book to read. The shelves towered over you, filled with books and scrolls of ancient knowledge and tales of distant places you could only dream of once visiting them in person. The quietness of the library was a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart. Each page you turned seemed to whisper his name, every shadow cast by the flickering candles reminded you of his touch. Rough yet tender. Cold yet hot on your skin. Soft under his dominant exterior.

You sighed to yourself, walking further down the aisle, your blue dress trailing behind you as the sound of the fabric sweeping the floor filled your ears in an almost overwhelming way. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to reach a book on the higher shelves yet your fingertips barely graced the spine. But a sudden gasp escaped your lips as you felt a strong presence behind you. The smell of musk and sandalwood filled your senses as well as a smell that was unmistakably him, Gwi.

“Allow me.”

His deep voice murmured close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his larger hand grabbed the book with ease. You turned around to face him, nearly gasping at the proximity. His tall figure caged you against the bookshelf and you found yourself pressing your back against it to put some distance that would allow you to breathe.

“You devour books as if it was your last time reading, petal.”

Your cheeks flushed at the hint of amusement in his words as he read the title of the book in his hands before he handed it to you, the action simple yet it weighed you down with the tension that drowned the room.

“I’m not apologising for it.”

“I never said that it was wrong. In fact, I find it a bit… intriguing.”

You pressed the book to your chest tightly as you took a step forward. The distance forced you to crane your neck up to keep eye contact as you found your voice once more.

“Intriguing?”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise at your bold yet still discreet move. The closeness was suffocating, addictive and full of emotions that were left unspoken as you gazed into his eyes and you could swear on your life you saw a tint of red pass through them. But you blinked and it was gone. Like lightning during a stormy night.

“Yes, ever so intriguing I want-”

But he stopped himself. His whispered words lost themselves through the wind as Gwi stood trapped in your gaze. The gaze of a mortal flower with a powerful spell, but a spell nonetheless. One that had already captured his mind and perhaps his heart as well. And yet, he had stopped himself. He had regained control over his heart just as it was ready to speak a truth his mind hadn’t realised just yet. He stopped himself from hurting you, his flower. His precious petal in a forgotten garden.

“My Lord…”

It was too much. The closeness, the intoxicating scent, the rapid thumping of your heart and the never-ending ocean you drowned in as you looked into his dark eyes. It was too much. Too much and yet you craved for more. He closed the distance even more, if that was actually possible, without touching you. A single step and your heart skipped a beat. Your soul burned for something you didn’t know existed. Your heart raced at thoughts that were surreal to you, improper even. But the proximity, the intimacy of the moment was all too much for you to keep up for another second.

You could feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and an unacknowledged yearning that made it hard to breathe gripped your lungs with ferocity and clawed at your heart with strength that was far greater than any will. You looked away bashful, breaking the tension and the intimate moment that had built like a tower of desire out of stones of stolen glances and subtle touches.

His fingers tilted your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his once more in a dance of emotions that tuned in a symphony that was too fast for you to hear yet your heart matched the beat.

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, not being able to tear your gaze away even if you wanted to. Your breathing sped up, you could hear your pulse drumming in your ears. Your palms got sweaty and your body went rigid. His touch burned your skin and left you tingling in need, wanting something you didn’t know. Desiring to have something you had never had.

“You are so beautiful, my flower.”

Gwi spoke in a dark murmur that had you suppressing a whimper. With great hesitation, your hand grabbed at his wrist and the contact made you freeze in your spot. His breath hitched as your bare skin touched his, but a knot tied itself in his throat and the words got stuck behind his tongue. His senses were snared by the perfume of his forbidden flower as he lost himself in your wide and shiny eyes.

He leaned down, closing the distance between you both even more. Your eyes flickered to his lips and you felt your heart skipping a beat. He felt your grip on his wrist tighten just as his breath mingled with yours.

“So so beautiful….”

Your eyes closed and the book that was clutched to your chest fell to the ground, your grip on reality faltering as you lost yourself in just him. The mysterious lord that made you feel things you had never felt before. Who made you feel flustered and embarrassed, he made you feel wanted and cherished. He made you feel safe. In this vast and dark universe, you found solace in the warmness of his embrace.

But then, the bubble of his fantasy popped. Your scent invaded his senses in a way that turned his eyes crimson the next second. And it wasn’t your lovely smell that had already enamoured him, that rose scent; for the smell of your blood was stronger. He could hear the frantic pulse of your heart and the laboured breathing that left your smaller frame.

It was at that very same moment that Gwi realised just how impossible his desires were. He was a creature of darkness, master of the night while you existed in your pink universe that illuminated his shadowed world. You were a flower, he was poison ivy. You were the beauty and he was the beast of the fallen souls.

He straightened up, his touch left your face and you shivered at the sudden coldness that invaded your body. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him as he gazed around with a detached look in his eyes. Something raw, colder; harsh even. You were left wanting, confused and hurt. But his eyes did not reveal the answer to his sudden change in demeanour.

This man is a mountain and a valley when it comes to his emotions….

You thought in a rather melancholic way as you looked up at him. Waiting, expecting him to do something. Anything at all that would calm your racing heart.

“I’ll be out tonight, stay in your room, flower.”

You blinked. Once, twice and once again as silence stretched between you both. His jaw clenched and his eyes avoided your own.

“My Lord-”

Yet he did not allow you to speak further. He turned around and left you there, standing under the candlelight as your heart clenched within you. You saw a deep sadness in his eyes, the only emotion you had been able to read in the big myriad of secrets he held within himself.

His steps faded within the shadows, leaving you in a swirl of confusion and a silence that felt way too deafening. The warmth that had just enveloped you was replaced cruelly by a biting cold that made you shiver. You stood there, rooted in place, trying to make sense of the emotional whiplash that had hurt you more than it should have.

Gwi paced back and forth in his private chamber. A big room with too many candles that seemed to mock the darkness that lived in his soul. There were too many things in his mind. Too many emotions lingering in his heart. Emotions he couldn’t allow himself to feel. He couldn’t allow his frozen heart to beat again. Yet despite that selfish desire, he couldn’t stop the petals of your love from embracing his coldness and dark nature.

His hands fisted by his sides the moment his brown eyes landed on the now-dead rose he had taken for himself from your bouquet the other day. It was a resemblance. A torture. Because Gwi knew that human life was not eternal. Human life was a fragile concept that could end with the snap of his fingers. If he cared too much about his flower, he’d suffocate her and if he left her alone, she’d drown in her own tears.

Human life was not eternal. And just as his fingers touched the petals, they fell. Crumbling at his feet like his own dreams. He knew the risks. He accepted the limitations. But was his mind ready to welcome one more into the shadows he lived in?

The vampire lord picked one of the petals as he twirled it between his fingers. There was war between his mind and heart. But maybe, it wasn’t wrong for the moon to embrace his sun. Because he knew you were his light. The candle in his room, the flame in his hearth, the star in his night. You were his sun because without you he was nothing while without him, you were still everything.

~~~

Little flower of a lost garden.

Goddess of a forgotten heart.

Mistress of my mind.

Soulmate of light.

His thoughts spoke to him in the form of poetry as Gwi walked down the stairs that led to the underground palace while the moon hung high in the night sky and the soft sounds of crickets faded into the darkness as he entered his sanctuary.

He walked into your room, his steps light over the floor below to keep you in your sweet slumber. The light of the flickering candles illuminated your face and he saw that beauty within you, within his exotic flower in his forgotten garden.

My darling. My love.

My desire. My soul.

You own me in ways you’d never know.

Owner of a mind that got lost.

His eyes roamed your delicate features enhanced by the soft flames of the candles, his hand held a bouquet of fresh roses as he walked toward the small table where the vase with the dead flowers stood. In silence, he replaced them, allowing beauty to fill your bedroom once more as he discarded the old and dark petals. A deep sense of longing settled in his heart. His words, thought to himself, got carried by the wind and lost into the night. Never to be spoken out loud. His admiration for you settled into romantic poetry that would never reach your ears. That would never make your heart swell for the man behind the pen.

My empire. My poison.

My flower. My total devotion

is yours to possess.

A treasure only you could bless.

Gwi turned around, needing to leave the bedroom before his instincts and desires took hold of his actions. So he left. Carrying a heavy soul with himself and a melted heart buried in your red petals of silent devotion. However, as he walked away, he held a single rose in his left hand. One that he had taken for himself from the bouquet. A single reminder of your existence even in his hours of solitude. A reminder to change your flowers when they die. An excuse to visit your chambers at night. And a hope he wanted so fervently to cling to.

Petal, my burning desire.

My one and only.

Sweet flames of hellfire

and a little flower in a lost garden.

June/13/2024

A/N: Want to be tagged? Let me know in the comments!

Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

#sanctuary1988 #lee soo hyuk #kdrama #kdrama series #the scholar who walks the night #gwi #kactor #gwi x reader fluff #gwi x reader #gwi x reader angst #scholar who walks the night #lee soo hyuk characters #vampire #korean drama #korean actor #les pétals d'amour #vampire gwi

17 notes · View notes

violet-stormbringer · 5 months

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The Princess and The Thorne, Chapter Five: Hearthlight Troubles

It was a cool evening, with a breeze blowing peacefully throughout the gardens of the Thorne Family Estate. A young man tended the rose bushes while another tended the horses and various servants bustled about like there was a grand occasion and even a single speck of dust meant their jobs were on the line.

As for Ras and Matilda, the pair sat at a table in the dining room. Ras sat directly across from her mother on the other end of the long table, stacks of books and paperwork haphazardly towering above her as she ate her dinner.

Ras voraciously pored over the book in front of her, eyes scanning over every bit of information the text in front of her held. It told of dragons, their mythological significance, and whether or not they’d actually existed. In the margins of the book, Ras’ scribblings of notes and reminders to return to certain sections of text.

“Ras.” Matilda spoke.

Ras looked up, meeting her Mother’s gaze.

“When you are done, meet me in the courtyard. You and I have things to discuss.”

Ras hung her head and wasted no time saving her place in the book before closing it. She finished her dinner, and stood, following her mother out into the courtyard. Usually a discussion with Matilda Thorne was anything but peaceful.

Sure enough, the moment Ras approached her mother on the courtyard, a servant held out a fencing sabre.

“Mother, is this really necessary?”

“I have been informed that, as part of Gallatin and Archambault’s Crème de la Crème competition, there is a sports day.” Matilda lifted her own sabre and adopted a battle stance. “There is to be fencing. As a result…we fence.”

Ras groaned, and lifted the sabre in her hand. She took on a stance to match her mothers, and the two stepped toward each other. When they met, they thrust their sabres out and clashed, their weapons pressed against each other.

This exchange continued well into the night, with each participant exchanging a flurry of blows as the other parried their attacks and retaliated as best they could. Matilda was experienced and kept her cool under pressure, regardless of how much Ras pressed. Ras, however, was the opposite, falling for feints and tricks and never landing a single blow upon her mother.

Eventually, Ras made a miscalculation and her thrust was avoided by Matilda in a wide margin, leaving her open for a counter attack. Matilda, seeing her chance, pushed the advantage, bringing her sabre up and catching Ras in her side, scoring the winning blow.

“Finish!” A servant called out. “The match has been decided in favor of Matilda Thorne. The overall score is seven matches, six in favor of Matilda Thorne.”

Ras groaned as she rubbed at the spot Matilda struck her in. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks Gerald.”

The servant, Gerald, bowed his head respectfully. “A pleasure, as always, Master Thorne.”

Matilda let out a ‘tsk’ as she overlooked Ras. “Despite how…sloppy you fight still, there is clear improvement. I daresay you’d be a match for any of those Archambault riff-raff.”

“I count friends among those ‘riff-raff’.” Ras snapped.

“No you don’t.” Matilda waved a dismissive hand. “You weren’t sent to Gallatin to make friends, you were sent to Gallatin to–”

“Yeah, I know!” Ras snarled as she interrupted her mother. “Clean up your mistake! Suffer under the constant scrutiny of everybody else all because my own damned mother couldn’t be bothered to do it herself! Restore our family name!”

Ras was seething, and her eyes stung with tears. “All because you couldn’t control your anger! You threw Dad out one evening and because of that he’s dead!”

Matilda sharply inhaled as Ras mentioned her Father. “Ras–” She warned.

“No! I’m done keeping this bottled up! You had an argument and kicked him out of the house you two shared! You knew there was to be a blizzard later that evening, and by the time you bothered to actually give a shit, it was too late and he was found dead the next morning!”

The tears were flowing now, the anger too much for Ras as her voice cracked. “The only thing that suffered was your reputation! You couldn’t have that, so you just had to make me a pawn in your fucking game! I wish Dad were still here, I wish it’d been you that died instead! I hate you!”

That was the last straw for Matilda, and she strode over to Ras and brought her hand firmly across Ras’ cheek in one fluid motion. The force of the blow was enough to send Ras barreling backwards, falling to the ground and leaving her to stare up at her mother.

“Enough.” Her voice was colder than usual. “What happened to your father was tragic, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret it. But do not presume to talk to me in such a way ever again. I am still your Mother.”

Ras scowled, and got to her feet. She defiantly stared at Matilda, their crimson eyes meeting. She looked as if she wanted to say something, and Matilda’s cool glare challenged her to do so.

She decided better of it, however, and turned on her heel, storming out of the courtyard and back into the house, the door slamming in a satisfying manner behind her.

She stomped her way through the dining room and the main hall, ignoring the concerned looks of the servants and their hushed whispers as Ras made her way into her room. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, and when she was finally safe by herself, she let it all out.

She threw her head back and let out a scream that could wake the dead. Her scream echoed from her room and down the hall, the full spectrum of what she was feeling at that moment exploding outwards.

She screamed to the heavens, though, as usual, there was no response. Unheard by the Gods, and ignored by both her Mother and the servants of her House, Ras screamed until her voice was hoarse.

When she finally finished, she dropped to her knees, head hanging low as she stared dejectedly at the floor. Silent sobbing as tears flowed from her eyes and down to the floor, splattering against the plush carpet to be absorbed and forgotten.

The weight of the world on her shoulders, the unceasing gaze of the public at her back, and the overwhelming tower of expectations from her mother looming overhead.

She hated it. She wished she could just curl up and die.

Suddenly, a knock on her door.

“...Who is it?” She asked, voice still hoarse from the screaming.

“It’s Gerald, Master Thorne.”

Ras got to her feet and shuffled to the door. She unlocked it and threw it open to stare at Gerald, standing there, a tray in his hands. On it was a cup and a steaming pot.

“It’s to help with your throat.” He said, maneuvering past Ras and entering her room without prompting. He set the tray on her desk, and turned to her. “You must have screamed it raw. Are you feeling better, perhaps?”

“No.” She admitted, closing the door behind her and taking a seat on her bed.

“Well, that’s to be expected.” He sighed. “Master Thorne, if I may step way beyond my jurisdiction here?”

“Go ahead, what could I possibly do to you, throw you out like Mom did to Dad?”

Gerald did not looked amused. “Master Thorne, as you are no doubt aware, I was a close friend and confidant of your late Father. It is because of this that I feel I must look out for you in ways that your Mother and the other servants do not.”

Ras nodded, staring dejectedly at the floor from where she sat on her bed.

Gerald sighed, and he moved to pour some tea for Ras, pressing the cup gently into her hand.

“You are loved, Master Thorne. If not by her, than certainly by me. I trust that whatever you do, you’ll at least make me proud.”

Ras let out a whimper, and her voice cracked as she spoke. “...T-Thank you, Gerald.” And with trembling hand and a quivering lip, Ras took a sip of the tea and felt the warmth spread across her body.

“Very good, Master Thorne.” Gerald smiled as he straightened, adjusting his tie. “Please pay no worry to the dishes when you are finished with them. I will collect them sometime in the morning.”

Ras nodded, and with that, Gerald left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. The tears began to fall again, and her silent sobs returned, but she felt a sense of relief as Gerald’s words echoed in her mind.

At least someone was proud of her, no matter what she did, no matter what happened.

When the tears finally dried and the tea was finally depleted, Ras found herself still with boundless energy. Not only that, but an idea began to surface in her head.

She wiped her eyes of any remaining tears, took a deep breath, and stood up. In the middle of her room, she had everything she needed, and so she got to work.

A letter drafted in quick penmanship, to be left directly on her desk where it would be noticed immediately when Gerald came to collect the dishes. A second letter, as well, this one addressed to her Mother and to be placed on her door as soon as Ras was able.

Afterwards, Ras set to executing the remainder of her plan; she threw what clothes she cared about into her bag, as well as a few books. Not too many, she wasn’t going to let herself be weighed down, so she only chose up to four books, each of varying size and topic.

Next, she grabbed her journal. She couldn’t leave without that. She also grabbed the mantle her Father had made for her not long before his death. A cool blue color, it was definitely Ras’ favorite article of clothing in her possession.

Finally, a bellflower charm given to her by Gerald on the day of her Father’s funeral.

As prepared as she was ever going to be, Ras took a look around her room and breathed in deeply. She wasn’t sure if she’d see this place again, but that was a thought for another time. She opened the door and slipped out as quiet as she could.

With how late it was now, the servants had all retired, and with no guards on the grounds, sneaking about was easy. Ras made her way to her mothers room and taped the folded letter to her door.

She hesitated at her Mothers door, and she almost made to knock on it, just to see if she’d answer. Just so Ras could tell her she was running away, and that it was all her fault.

After a deep breath, Ras steeled herself. That was what the letter was for.

“Happy Hearthlight, Mother,” She whispered, barely audible even to herself. “And a hearty fuck you too.”

With that, Ras made her way to another room in the house, her Father’s study. It had been locked ever since he passed, and the contents of the room were untouched. But Gerald had long given Ras a spare key, for she liked to spend her time in there when she was particularly upset.

She couldn’t even begin to count the number of days she’d spend cooped up in there. It still smelled of him, even to this very night. A heavy scent of cinnamon, woodsmoke, and honey. That alone was enough to make Ras stop in the middle of the study, eyes closed as a feeling of nostalgia washed over her.

After a moment, she recalled what she was there for, and shook her head, snapping herself out of the trance she’d gone into. Setting her bag aside, Ras began to rifle through the drawers of her Fathers desk, and soon she found what she was looking for.

A thick booklet marked with the Thorne Family sigil. Inside were multiple documents stating that whoever held the booklet and ID or Passport was to be given access to the Thorne Family funds. In addition, there were three passports; Ras’, Irwin’s, and Matilda’s. Each featured a photo of the holder of said passport, and Ras took a moment to look over her Father’s.

His fiery red hair, combined with his massive bushy beard, giving him the appearance of a lion with a well-groomed mane. Pale skin, blue eyes, and a smile that would put the sun to shame.

Ras felt another pang of nostalgia, a bit more painful this time, and she tucked the passports back into the booklet and tucked the booklet into her shirt pocket, close to her chest. She would keep it safe no matter what.

As Ras closed the drawer, she noticed on the center of the desk, an envelope addressed directly to her. It bore the Thorne Family seal. She frowned, and took the envelope, carefully opening it to glean it’s contents.

Inside there was a picture of Ras and her Father. It was a picture from Ras’ birthday, a week before his passing. The two of them were sharing a hug, and wore the happiest grins on their faces. One of the last times Ras had ever gotten to hug him.

On the back of the photo, a note, in Irwin’s handwriting.

‘My little Thorneling, all grown up! From the moment I first held you in my arms, to the moment in this picture, those were my happiest days. -Irwin’

Ras’ breath hitched as she stared at the picture, and she felt more tears coming on. There was only so much time, however, and Ras shook her head. She had other things to do, and the night wouldn’t last forever. And so she tucked the photo back into the envelope and gently tucked the envelope into her bag. She would be taking that with her.

After taking a breath and a moment to scan her eyes around the study one last time, it was time to set out.

She hefted her bag over her shoulder and made her way out of Irwin’s study, closing the door behind her and making sure to lock it. The only one who would notice anything was out of place would be Gerald, and Ras just had to hope that he didn’t tell her Mother.

With nothing left to do here, Ras made her way outside of the manor and down the drive. It would be a short walk into town, and from there she just had to catch a carriage to the harbor. From there…her destination clear in her mind.

When she arrived at the harbor, all she had to do was pull out the booklet and give them a chance to check over everything. They pored over her documents and checked her credentials, and when they declared it all authentic, they granted her passage for the early morning ferry headed to her destination.

The Tabitha’s Wisdom, that was by the name of the ship she was to board.

By the time the sun began to rise above the horizon, Ras had already boarded the ship. Situated in her cabin and bound for another part of the world, by the time anybody would’ve figured out she was gone…she was.

The trip would be a few days, but she would make it before Hearthlight was over. The festivities lasted longer over where she was going, she knew that much.

As the ship’s engines roared to life, she heard a shout above the noise.

“All aboard for the Kingdom of Zaledo!”

She got comfortable, sitting on the bed provided and pulling out the envelope and picture of her and her Father.

“One step at a time…” She spoke as she stared at the picture, as if talking to Irwin. “Just like you taught me.”

It wasn’t long before sleep overtook Ras, the picture still held firmly in her grasp as she lay on the bed.

That afternoon, Ras awoke in the bed of the cabin, her Father’s photo still clutched in her fingers. So it wasn’t a dream. She took a breath, tucked the picture into the envelope and then the envelope back into her bag.

With that, she decided to stretch her legs and take a walk about the ship. She left her cabin and made her way to the deck. The ship was in the midst of the ocean, well on their way to Zaledo. Westerlind was a speck on the horizon behind them by now.

Though the trip was to be long, Ras found herself more at peace than ever. The rocking of the ship on the waves, the sound of the wind and the cries of the gulls.

Despite her appearance, green hair, red eyes, and only one arm, nobody seemed to recognize her. A good thing, that, not being clocked as the heir to the Thorne fortune, she supposed.

Of course, it also could have been too early, Ras had only left in the middle of the night, there was no way her Mother would’ve had enough time to send people out to bring Ras home.

She just had to hope that the second half of her admittedly haphazard plan went well.

Meanwhile, at the Thorne Family Estate…

As the morning light poured in through the windows of the manor, Gerald was getting ready. He had short black hair that was slicked back. He had a single green eye, the other covered by an eyepatch. Several scars on his face, some hidden beneath his well-kept facial hair.

He’d been a soldier, he told Ras. He and Irwin fought in the military and only ever saw one battle together. That was enough to solidify their friendship for life, and it was enough for Irwin to offer Gerald a job when he’d inherited the manor and money of his parents.

A job that Gerald accepted with no hesitation.

He’d been there long before Ras had been born, long before Irwin met Matilda. He would be here to see Ras become a woman and, if he had his way, he would serve her too.

He shook his head, the nostalgia that distracted him dissipating. His hair slicked back and his uniform tidied, it was time to begin the day.

First things first, he sought to make good on his promise. He made his way to Ras’ room and gently rapped on the door.

“Master Thorne,” he called out. “I’m simply here to pick up the dishes. It’s not time to awake, just yet, do not stir yourself…”

With that, he opened the door, and was met with a most panicking sight. Ras was not in her bed. Several of her books were missing from the shelves, her bag was gone, and the usually tidy room was a mess.

At first, he assumed the worst, someone had broken into the home and stolen Ras away. Then, he noticed the tea cup placed conspicuously upside down on the tray, a ring of residual tea formed around the lip.

A secret gesture between the pair, he recognized. Whenever Ras had something she needed to talk to Gerald about, something that had to remain between them, they had established this system. She would return her cup to him upside down, an unusual gesture that many would simply attribute to the strangeness of Ras Thorne, it’s true meaning only ascertained by him alone.

That alone was enough to calm him, his heart calming as the panic faded. Ras had left him a message, then.

That was when he noticed the carefully folded paper peeking out from underneath the tea tray. A letter.

Carefully extracting it from where it sat, Gerald unfolded the letter and took a seat in the chair, reading over it carefully.

‘Uncle Gerald, Hey there, you old fuddy duddy. If you’re reading this, it means I’ve gone through with the stupidest of ideas. Half baked and only a quarter as planned, I’ve decided to run away. I can’t tell you why I decided to do it, just that it felt right. I can only hope you’re not mad at me. That said, I can tell you where I’m going, and I need your help. I’m going to Zaledo. I’m taking the long way to give myself the best shot, and so I need you to do me a favor. Please, write to the Royal Family. Most specifically a missive to Princess Rosario, and petition her to grant me shelter. I can’t do it myself, my word only carries so much weight as I am just the heir of the Thorne Family. You, however, are known friend and trusted confidant of Irwin Thorne. His head of staff and man he trusted most in the world. You’re a Thorne in your own right, and not only would that mean your letter would reach her, but they’d listen to you. I hope to see you again, and I’m sorry to drag you into this. Please don’t be mad at me, and please don’t tell Mother. I love you, Uncle Gerald. Warmest of regards, Ras Thorne.’

Gerald shook his head after reading the letter. A sense of relief washed over him as he at least knew where she was going. Of course he wasn’t mad at her. Even though they weren’t actually related, he considered her family, and she clearly thought of him the same way.

With a sigh, he folded the letter and carefully tucked it into his pocket. If there was anybody to be angry at, it was Matilda.

But he couldn’t risk doing anything beyond what Ras asked. So he stood from the chair, adjusted his tie, grabbed the tea tray, and made his way out of Ras’ room. He closed the door and made his way to the kitchens, where he set the dishes aside to be washed.

As soon as he exited, he was confronted by Matilda, a letter in her hand. She stared at Gerald, expression seething.

“Gerald.” She stated, her tone as level as could be without letting her rage take hold.

“Mistress Thorne.” He bowed his head. “Is aught amiss?”

She thrust the letter into Gerald’s hands, scowling. “Ras has run away. Did she leave something with you?”

“No.” He lied, taking the letter from Matilda with his best frown. His surprise must have been genuine enough, for she simply continued talking.

“Impudent girl, leaving home with only…this. I don’t know where she’s going, or how far she expects to get, but the moment I see her again…”

Gerald looked up at her. “Mistress Thorne, might I suggest taking a moment to breathe?” He asked. “I can send out petitions for people to search for her if you like, but it does you no good to sit around seething.”

Matilda’s gaze snapped to Gerald’s, and the two of them glared at each other, daring another to make the next move. She’d always despised him, for she was used to bulldozing her way into getting what she wanted.

But he also spoke sense, and so she resigned, looking away with a huff. “If you insist. Write to everybody who will listen. We’ve connections in Zaledo, see if she’s sighted there. I will…take a moment to recuperate.”

Gerald bowed his head as Matilda made her exit, and then turned his attention to the letter Ras had left Matilda, reading over it.

It was hardly a letter at all. A crude drawing in the likeness of Ras holding out her only arm and flashing an obscene gesture. Underneath, in messy handwriting, in colorful crayon of all things, was a note.

‘Leaving home. Hate you, wish you were dead. Burn in hell. Love you Mom. ~Ras’

Gerald snorted, resisting the urge to chuckle. “Childish,” he muttered, “but it gets the point across I suppose. Very like you, Master Thorne.”

With that, he folded the ‘letter’ and set it aside. He strode over to Irwin’s study and unlocked the door, opening it to see it looked as immaculate as ever.

He noticed right away that the envelope addressed to Ras was missing, and he knew that she’d been serious indeed. She has run away.

Well, that settled it, then. He took a seat at Irwin’s desk and began to draft a letter to be sent to the Kingdom of Zaledo, in particular the Princess Rosario.

Being a Thorne might not mean much outside of Fenburg, but there wasn’t a soul alive who didn’t know of Irwin and Gerald, the duo who had fought so valiantly in service to the Westerlind-Zaledo Military Alliance.

He just had to hope it would work to get Ras the shelter she needed.

The letter was simple. Written entirely in the Zaledoan language, it read:

‘Your royal Highness, Pleasant days to you. I hope you are enjoying your Hearthlight holidays. I am writing to you for matters most urgent, and it is my hope that you will hear my request. I am led to believe you are acquainted with a young lady by the name of Ras Thorne. She is my adopted niece, and I have cared for her since the passing of her Father, Irwin Thorne. Due to complications with her home life involving her Mother, Ras has seen fit to abscond from home. It is my understanding that she has made for Zaledo, seeking asylum. Which leads to my request. I humbly ask that you please grant her the asylum she seeks, and that you keep her safe. I also ask that you encourage prying eyes to grant Ras the peace she deserves. Forever grateful, Gerald, former Shield of Westerlind.’

He folded the letter and tucked it into an envelope, sealing it closed with a stamp bearing the Thorne Family sigil. Finished with that, he stood, taking a shaky breath.

Ras put a lot of faith in him, and in a plan that even she admitted was half-baked and poorly thought out. There was no guarantee that this would even work. But she was willing, she was bold, and most importantly she believed. Not just in him, but in Rosario.

“Just like her Father,” he muttered as he made his way out of Irwin’s study, carefully drafted letter in hand, “foolish, brash, and naive. Almost enviable, really.”

Without further delay, Gerald sent the letter out with the morning post, as well as several vague letters mentioning that Ras was missing and to keep an eye out for her in Fenburg. Lies about how she couldn’t have gone far.

His own letter, meant for Princess Rosario, was marked priority, and he paid the extravagant fee for it to be delivered as fast as possible. Hopefully it would make it to Zaledo before Ras did.

With trepidation, all he had to do was wait.

It only took a day for him to receive a reply. The envelope back from Rosario was embossed with a gilded Zaledoan coat of arms, and Gerald took the letter and slipped it into his pocket. He wasn’t going to read it so soon, nor while he was at risk of being discovered.

So he went about his day as usual, cleaning the manor and attending to Matilda while she paced impatiently around the lounge.

“No word, then?” Matilda asked, for the seventh time that evening alone.

“No, Mistress Thorne,” Gerald lied, the letter feeling rather heavy in his pocket at that moment.

Matilda groaned, dropping into a chair and throwing her head back. “The grief that child causes me. If she weren’t the sole solution to restoring the family name…”

Gerald felt a twinge of irritation, but he had to hold it in. Instead, he cleared his throat. “If I may, Mistress Thorne, it is rather late and I find myself growing tired in my old age. May I retire for the evening?”

Matilda waved him off with a dismissive gesture. “Whatever you please, Gerald. Just, please. Bright and early tomorrow, in case word of Ras reaches us.”

With a nod, Gerald turned on his heel and made his way back to his room. When he was alone, the door closed and locked behind him, he pulled the letter from his pocket and opened it, careful to preserve the seal.

Inside, a response from Rosario.

‘Master Gerald, It was a pleasure to receive your Hearthlight wishes. As for your request, I petitioned my Father, and the moment he heard the name Thorne, he accepted readily. He wishes you well, and offers his condolences upon Irwin’s passing. He had this to say: “Irwin Thorne was a credit to the Westerlind-Zaledo Military Alliance, and your efforts alongside his are appreciated nationwide on both sides. Your request to help his daughter is the least I can do.” Even if this were not the case, you are correct. Ras is a dear friend of mine, I would have done whatever I could have in order to help her. Thanks to your timely letter, however, I have ample preparation and can have an escort ready for her when she arrives. You have my gratitude for bringing this matter to my attention, and I wish you the best. Have a Happy Hearthlight. Kind regards, Her Highness the Princess Rosario of Zaledo.’

Gerald let out a sigh of relief, a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. A huge weight from his shoulders had been lifted; Ras would be safe when she arrived at Zaledo.

Better yet, she would be with friends. People who would love and care for her as she deserved. He folded the letter carefully and tucked it away into his secret place. The only other person who knew it even existed was Irwin, and he was certain that Matilda would never find it even if she had reason to snoop after him.

With that, he was safe to relax, relieved at the knowledge that Ras would be safe, even if it was a temporary reprieve. Hopefully by the time she returned, Matilda would be amicable enough to forgive her, and there wouldn’t be any further family drama.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from wishing that Ras never returned. He’d rather her be out there, living for herself, than back here and at the mercy of Matilda’s societal shame.

He took a deep breath and sat on his bed. He was exhausted, and it wasn’t long before he was laying down, sleep taking over the moment he closed his eyes.

The rest of the days went by without a hitch, with Hearthlight in Westerlind coming to and end and still no word of Ras being sighted in Fenburg. Many nosy reporters coming to bother him and Matilda about the missing child of the Thorne Family.

Articles were published about Matilda and about Ras’ disappearance, ranging from theories and comments and purported sightings of the missing girl. At the very least, Matilda didn’t expect the part he’d played in Ras’ running away from home.

Meanwhile, on The Tabitha’s Wisdom…

Ras spent most of her days on the deck of the ship, mostly out of the way of the workers and other passengers sailing towards Zaledo, reading happily as she bathed in the sun.

Nobody made comments on her appearance, though she did get the odd look now and again, and sometimes children would approach her to ask about her hair, or her eyes, or her missing arm.

“Well you see,” she told one group of kids, a grin on her face and a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “don’t tell anybody this, but I’m actually part dragon. I lost my arm fighting against a foolish knight. That’s why I’m going to Zaledo, they practically worship dragons there.”

The children all squealed, and ran over to their parents, rambling on and gushing about ‘the scary dragon lady with her hoard of books’. They merely looked up, saw her, and offered smiles in return, as if thanking her for entertaining their kids for a moment.

With no further distractions, Ras returned to her reading. Her book was a fictional novel, telling the story of a knight who overcame his inner darkness in pursuit of justice and took up a sword of light to defeat a primordial evil which originated from the moon.

She’d read this book many times before, and had just now gotten to the part where the protagonist discovered a sword with a myth engraved upon it’s blade, telling of him and his destiny. He’d finally shed his armor of darkness, slaying a demon formed of his dark powers upon embracing the sword of light given to him by a higher power.

It wasn’t long before the sky began to darken, however, and Ras’ reading was interrupted by lack of light. She looked up, and realized that the hours had passed her by, and it was already dusk. Now conscious of the fading daylight, she let out a yawn, groaning as she closed her book.

No point attempting to get more reading in if she was tired, even if she did practically know the story by heart. She marked her place in the book, closed it, and stood up with a stretch. Time to get some proper sleep.

As she made her way back to her cabin, she came across one of the staff, who smiled at her.

“Not long to Zaledo now, miss. We’re like to reach it in the morning. Just in time for their Hearthlight festival.”

Ras grinned in response. “I’m lookin’ forward to it already. You think th’Princess will make an appearance?”

He laughed. “I doubt she’d miss it for anything.”

With that, Ras bid farewell to the man and entered her cabin, closing the door behind her with a satisfied sigh. She tossed her book onto her bag and then just flopped onto the bed, planting her face directly onto the pillow.

Tomorrow, she’d be in Zaledo. Hopefully she’d get to see Princess Rosario.

#Crème de la Crème #Hannah Powell-Smith #Choice of Games #Tales of The Divine (Writing)#The Girl who became a Dragon (Ras Thorne)#The Princess and The Thorne

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storyofmychoices · 1 year

Text

Shadows and Deception: Parts III & IV

[Series Masterlist] [My Choices Masterlists]

Books: The Royal Romance (post-TRF), Crimes of Passion I, Desire & Decorum, Blades of Light and Shadow I Characters: Trystan Thorne (M, no race mentioned), Marguerite Thorne, Olivia Nevrakis, Queen Amalas, Maxwell Beaumont, Daniel, King Liam (no race mentioned), Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Prince Hamid Pairings: Olivia Nevrakis x Queen Amalas ; M!Trystan Thorne x (no gender given) MC (mentioned) ; King Liam x Riley (mentioned) Rating/Warnings: Teen, mentions of blood, stab wound, knives/daggers (no graphic descriptions) Word Count: Part III: ~900; Part IV: ~600 : total ~1,500

Summary: So many rumors, so many royal suspects, but where does the truth lie?

Catch up on Parts I and II here

III. From now on, it is our task to suspect each and every one amongst us. (Justice Wargrave)

Disbelief and unease swept through the ballroom as words of foul play circulated. Whispers swirled, sending ripples of suspicion among the guests. Accusatory glances were thrown all around, even toward some of the most prominent and unexpecting of guests.

Trystan Thorne, the once Heir Apparent of Drakovia, found himself caught in the web.

The sound of his name caught his ear as he listened to a particularly pompous party-goer: "I can't believe they let him in. You've read the stories, I'm sure. How he murdered his fiancée."

"Allegedly," he interrupted, his brow arching as he met the guest's gaze. "I was charged, yes. But as for the truth, that remains to be seen."

"I didn't know," the guest stammered realizing the Prince stood beside them. All color drained from their face.

"That's the thing, though, isn't it? You don't know. Therefore, I suggest you save your breaths for words you know to be true," Trystan warned. "Being accused of one crime does not give any reason to suspect me of another." He shook his head, walking away. He marveled at the lack of effort that was made before his name was thrown into the pool of suspects.

Marguerite Thorne, Trystan's half-sister and the youngest Princess of Drakovia (if one considered illegitimate children as such), also faced her own share of rumors.

A group of socialites huddled together, casting not-so-covert glances in her direction, snickering as they went.

One of them strode up to the Princess, waving her phone in her hand. "Princess Marguerite, any comment to these rumors that you orchestrated the murder of Countess Juliana to frame your brother? Jealous much?" She scoffed, a look of disdain filling her face. “Hoping to find yourself some new attention here?”

Marguerite's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief. "How absurd! To even indulge your delusions for the sake of my amusement would be an insult to my integrity." She chuckled as she sauntered away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She refused to give them the satisfaction of turning back.

Queen Amalas became the subject of whispered suspicions. Some guests cast accusatory glances her way, questioning the depths to which she would go for knowledge and secrets, and what actions she might take to protect them. Her composed demeanor remained unwavering.

Amalas brushed up against the Duchess, her words a whisper in her ear. "Have you made any progress?"

"There are still many questions to be asked," Olivia replied, her fingers brushing against her Queen's. "Have you turned up anything of worth?"

Her brow rose briefly, a secret smile playing on her lips, "All in good time." Amalas pulled away, tucking her clutch safely under her arm.

"Maybe I should search you," Olivia teased, pulling her back. "I could certainly make it enjoyable... for the both of us."

"I trust you could. Another time, my love."

Olivia glided through the halls, continuing to conduct her investigation until a particularly ridiculous display caught her attention. ‘Who could dance at a time like this?’ She marched forward, ready to put an end to it when a whisper floating through the ballroom hooked her attention. She paused, listening to the murmured words.

Apparently, the Ottoman Prince was conducting an investigation himself. She listened as a guest confided that she had overheard an intense exchange between Lord Beaumont and the waiter earlier in the evening. She wasn't clear on the exact details, but what was clear was the tension between them. Between this and his odd behavior early, Olivia had a new suspect to question. ‘What had he gotten himself into now?'

Maxwell Beaumont, emboldened by his carefree attitude, danced to his own music, refusing to let the party become a lifeless bore. After all, someone had to keep the guests' spirits up.

Olivia approached him, her gaze sharp and penetrating. "Maxwell, do you care to explain yourself?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." He offered her little attention. His body moved in rhythm as he attempted to beatbox his favorite dance beats.

Olivia grumbled, "If you could contain yourself for even five minutes."

"I could, but then, who would carry this party on their shoulders!?" Maxwell winked and jumped atop the closest table. "Breakdance battle—15 minutes. You'll know where."

"You can't do that!" Olivia's words were lost as he dashed off into the crowd before she could ask about the rumors she had just overheard about him and Daniel's argument before the party. There was definitely something going on with him.

Nia Ellarious, the priestess of light who had once been possessed by the evil entity, the Dreadlord, faced her own share of suspicion. Tyril Starfury approached her gently, offering reassurance. "I understand your concerns, but it's customary for the person who discovers the body to be considered a probable suspect. We must remain vigilant and trust that the truth will prevail."

"What if there's more to it?" Nia worried. She had escaped the darkness that had taken over her, but the nightmares of its presence remained. "It can't happen again."

His grasp on his blade tightened as he scanned the crowd. "It won't. Tonight's events are entirely human-created."

Still, others whispered the name of another.

With her known predilection for daggers and her often cold and calculating demeanor, Duchess Olivia Nevrakis's name caught on the lips of some who dared cast a shadow toward her.

IV. Truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant. (C. Auguste Dupin)

Whispers slithered through the air, their words laden with suspicion and hidden agendas. As tension thickened like a dense fog looming over the proceedings, some of the distinguished guests took it upon themselves to investigate the crime, each motivated by their own agenda. The ballroom became a web of whispered conversations, covert glances, and hidden alliances.

Trystan's pulse thrummed with curiosity, the exhilaration of the mystery running high. He was determined to unravel this crime as he had others in New York. Memories of his own false accusation lingered, igniting a fire within him to clear his name. His fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his chin, his mind racing with thoughts of the mysterious silver key. Could it be the key to the truth, or was it merely a red herring calling him astray?

Olivia, fueled by an unwavering determination to shield her chosen family and to exact justice, wove through the crowd. Her sharp mind looked for connections between hushed conversations, hidden agendas, and the untimely death. The corner of her lips pulled up faintly at the promise of more to come.

Now if only she could find Maxwell... Pinning him down should have been the least of her problems; after all, it was Beaumont. He was the least stealthy person she knew. However, he seemed to have made it a game to elude her at every turn, a dangerous dance of cat and mouse developing. Olivia's frustration grew with each attempt to corner him. Foreshadowing a perilous end for the little mouse, or squid as it were, this shark was determined to catch him one way or another. Yet, as she pursued answers to her questions, she couldn't help but wonder if his unusual behavior was denial as he processed his grief.

Balancing duty and his loyalty to Nia, Tyril trod with caution. After Aerin Valleros, he wasn't about to trust another royal. The remnants of the Dreadlord's grip lingered in his memory, fueling his determination to protect Nia from any lurking shadows. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He would be ready this time.

Amalas employed her cunning and manipulation to take advantage of the situation, using it to extract every fragment of information she could, regardless of its relation to the events of the evening. All knowledge was power. She maneuvered through the labyrinth of people as silent as a shadow, her movements graceful and elusive. She made her way to a small balcony above. Her perceptive gaze scanned the room, watching and waiting. Her pulse quickened, but she quickly regained her composure. Her focus took a moment longer as her gaze followed the alluring movements of her scarlet-haired Duchess.

Prince Hamid, torn between his formal obligations and his innate desire for justice, skillfully navigated the crowd. He listened to stories and deciphered what information he could learn. His charisma and charm proved invaluable in gaining the trust of potential witnesses. His calm persona reassured guests into fully opening up to him with any facts or theories they may have.

The King's Guard moved throughout the proceedings, questioning everyone who may have heard or seen something. They took particular interest in those who moved about in the shadows, investigating on their own, for perhaps one of them was sticking too close in order to cover his/her own tracks.

Regardless of the underlying reason for their inquiries, there was a puzzle to be solved, and no one was going to let the blame fall on them, especially the exiled Prince of Drakovia.

[Continue...]

Thanks for reading! I hope you are enjoying they mystery. There are definitely a lot of rumors and suspicious behaviors, but what do any of them mean?

Tomorrow, an unlikely(?) suspect emerges as the murder weapon is found! The conclusion will be posted Monday! Happy sleuthing!

Giveaway Information: complete details here

3 winners will be chose for minimalist portraits with @bayleedrawsx

Any one who comments on or reblogs with a comment with their theories, thoughts, ideas, ect. on any and all sections of the story will be entered in the giveaway. (1 entry per section)

Prompts: For @choicesbookclub COP ; @choicesmonthlychallenge Private Investigator Event

Special thanks: to JenBeaumontJones (IG) for beta reading

#playchoices #choices game #the royal romance #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #desire & decorum #choices fan fiction #tyril starfury #trystan thorne #marguerite thorne #nia ellarious #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #queen amalas #prince hamid #lovealexhunt #choices book club #olivia nevrakis x queen amalas

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instruth · 4 months

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JUST A MEMORY OF MY OLD HOMETOWN

O! Fair land of glory loveliest song of morn

Smiling parks red roses set among thorns

Eager are the pigtailed gals busy to pick

Gallant swains fall in line pretty quick

Gay day begins with a warm cheerful visit

Butterflies flapping, floating in their flit

Love songs from the robins for me and all

Joy of my youth ever pleasing as I recall

Blooms linger when seasons cause delay

Young hearts learn patience wait and stay

Innocence and ease enrich my simple life

Nature overrides all my hardship and strife

Simpletons endear fine humble happiness

My daily loitering brings surplus gladness

Pausing to admire the great glory of dawn

Watching the deer with her little fawn

Grazing on tapestry green by the slope

While bees and grasshoppers shyly elope

I dream of the maiden I secretly love

Like cooing doves wooing in their cove

Crossing a quiet brook to watch her charm

Yonder fence, the cultivated rainbow farm

I bless the approaching brilliance of day

When all around me freely lend a play

Contentment fills my soul cheers my heart

A pastime frolicking joyfully never to part

Simple pleasures in sweet succession come

Dancing pairs sweet memories to beds at home

Peaceful dreams follow when the day is done

Alas! These lovely charms are past and gone

just a memory

time has changed our inheritance

to a faraway land

for a greener pasture

I wish to return to write and tell my story

©Johnny JP Lee

04 June 2024

A Gogyoshi-Bun Poem

Photos: J. P. Lee

#poetryportal #writerscreeds #smittenbypoetry #spilledwords #inkstainsandheartbeats #writingthestorm #poeticstories #writtenconsiderstions

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have-a-hiddles · 4 months

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Master List of Fan Fic

Most, if not all, of my fics are rated E for EXPLICIT.

STAR WARS: SEQUEL TRILOGY

Rise Of Ben Solo Series

A/N: Main parts are Ben/Rey centric. Interludes are Hux/OFC centric.

Voices Within And Without

Interlude: Of Chaos and Caring

Hope Remembered and Renewed

Interlude: Secrets and Sharing

Love Forged and Forgiven

Interlude: Of Help and Healing

Memory Past and Pursued

Interlude: Of Desire and Decision

Fate Decided and Dawning

One-Shots

A Rose Among Thorns (Hux/Rose)

A Change Of Mind (no pairing)

The Dangers of Nar Shaddaa Casinos (Hux/Rose)

A Perfect Storm (Hux/Rose)

First Kiss (Hux/Rose ft. a wild, cockblocking Rey)

Blood & Rain (Hux/Rose Vampire!AU, WIP)

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

Für Elise series (All rated G)

Who Is This Child?

The Top of the World

Candlelight Carol

GAME OF THRONES

Winter Is Here series

The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night (Sandor/Sansa)

Why The Caged Bird Sings (Sandor/Sansa)

Howling of the Heart (Sandor/Sansa)

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE/TOM HIDDLESTON

One-Shots

Big Girls Don't Cry (Loki/OFC, Loki POV)

Soothe the Savage Beast (Loki/Sigyn)

Mating Habits (Tom Hiddleston!Curator/OFC)

Of This, Our Time (Tom Hiddleston/OFC)

Notre Dame de Paris (Hunchback of Notre Dame)

One-Shots

A Drop of Water and A Little Pity (no pairing)

Ghost (The Band)

One-Shots

Within Your Heart, A Story To Be Told (Cardinal Copia/Reader, Y/N fic)

Also, here are my two RP sideblogs for Ghost: @ask-sister-rosemary-marie @ask-whisper-ghoul

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic masterlist #ghost #ghost the band #phantom of the opera #hunchback of notre dame #notre dame de paris #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars #reylo #gingerrose #game of thrones #sansan #marvel #MCU #Loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston RPF

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n7punk · 1 year

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All Fics Extra: Marriage Bonds

Marriage bonds/ropes are a thing that has been brought up in a few of my AUs now (SLAS, Roses and Thorns.... others definitely but that's all I can remember rn...) so I wanted to have one post on it to refer back to.

The origins of the idea come from the Crimson Waste in canon and me worldbuilding a way marriage "works" there when there's no government or anything, and then it spun off to being a part of hybrid culture in my AUs since it seems like half of them couldn't wear rings (or many forms of jewelry) comfortably.

Marriage bonds are a set of ropes you present to the person you want to propose to, alongside the usual proposal speech about loving them, etc. Said speech usually includes why you selected the specific ropes you did. Most people don't have rope meanings memorized and unless your partner is also planning to propose and has been looking into them, they probably need to be told what exactly you've selected.

There's a large catalogue of rope meanings, with certain colors having broader themes, and then specific knots having their own meanings, which can change depending on the rope color they are tied in. So the same knot tied in red will have a different meaning then when it's tied in yellow.

If the other person accepts, the couple is officially engaged and they will work together to create a tapestry of knots that they feel are representative of them and their lives together. These tapestries resemble macramé and can take many forms. Usually they're a few inches across but can easily range to two feet in size with a variety of dimensions, rarely ending up much larger. Most often they're hung between two rods, but sometimes a circle frame or some complex shape is used.

The engagement period starts from the presenting of the ropes and lasts until the "finishing" of the piece (more on this later). Typically pieces will use a few different ropes, with the fianceé also picking their own ropes that hold meaning to them (unless there's somehow a total overlap between what each partner wants) and both of them work together on design. And yes, asethetic does often play a part in the rope selection. There are a lot of slightly different shades of yellow with varying undertones to better compliment other rope colors that they might be paired with, for instance.

There are some marriage bond designers who design meaningful pieces for couples, but in most hybrid communities it is generally viewed as better to have a single stick with a trail of meaningful knots hanging from it than to have something beautiful and manufactured. The commercialization of the designing and need for something pretty to put online or whatever is a source of great complaint among the older crowd. Even when someone is hired to help with the design, unless neither the couple nor anyone in their lives is capable of physically tying the knots, the couple is supposed to do it themselves and just use designs as a guide to try to recreate.

There are couples "bonding" knot tying classes that it's almost always too early in a relationship to take someone to unless you're already engaged (not that it stops people from making that awkward mistake), and yes, there can be drama over "stealing" someone else's tapestry design, at least in the age of the internet where it's easy to find Pinterest boards full of knotwork inspo pictures for references.

In the Crimson Waste version of this headcanon, you are considered married upon tying the final knot and that's that. In modern AUs, this was once the hybrid tradition, but a shift to a more homogeneous culture, dominated by humans, elves, and the various species most closely aligned with them in physiology and culture, means that the originally elven tradition of proposing with a ring (which is a newer tradition as a whole than the marriage bonds are) has become the "default" when it comes to proposal in many ways, to the point where even hybrid couples from one or more cultures that originally used the ropes might now opt for rings instead. However, others are very strident in their favor for the bonds.

Now the tying of the final knot is symbolic and often done as part of the wedding ceremony. Traditionally, there would a be a knot tying ceremony where the couple, surrounded by a group of their family and friends, would tie the final knot together and then share a night of food and revelry in their own home (occasionally the home of a family member with more room/amenities) and then that's it, you just say you're married from then on and you are. In the time of modern governments, you're officially married when you submit a marriage license, so those events (whether a knot-tying ceremony or a more stereotypical wedding with the tying of the final knot replacing the exchange of rings) are held to celebrate the marriage and the license is sent off for separately around the same time

Usually once the final knot is tied, that's it and the design is done, but sometimes couples come back and add to their design (though never undo past work) if they feel they want to add some significant event, such as if having children has changed them, or as a rededication after breaking up and getting back together. This is rare though, and usually it "runs in families" where people do it because their parents did and it feels more normal to them.

When adding the marriage bonds to a fic would contribute nothing meaningful to the plot and take too long to explain - or actively hinder the plot, such as in TTFT - then I just go with rings, similarly to how many people do even when marriage bonds exist in the fic, but sometimes they just fit better and I resurrect the idea again.

#all fics #ficmeta #fic extra

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corrodedseraphine · 2 years

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every rose has its thorn | one shot

pairing: steve harrington x buckley!fem!reader

summary: Christmas is coming to Hawkins. It is a time of joy and forgiveness. It turns out that your sister's best friend is looking for a new place to live, and you happen to have a spare room in the apartment. It wouldn't be a problem if that friend wasn't Steve Harrington. A man whom the more you try to avoid even more often comes back like a boomerang. angst/fluff, slight enemies? to lovers

I got inspired while listening to the song "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" by Poison.

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

10 695 words

It's a bit long, but I hope you won't get too bored!

steve harrington masterlist | general masterlist

"No way Robin." You said placing the plates on the table. "Where did you even get the idea that I would agree to this?"

"Come on, y/n!" she cried out in a pleading voice. "We have one room free anyway, think of the advantages, we'll split the bills among three instead of just the two of us!"

"You know very well that it's not about the very idea of renting this room, but you must have hit yourself really hard in the head thinking that I would agree to live with Steve Harrington."

"But he has changed! You know very well! He's a really good man now. Besides, I thought you were over him, after all, you saved him from disgusting monsters several times, you took care of him after he was attacked by demobats!"

"Just because I didn't want him to die doesn't mean that suddenly my attitude toward him has changed. I still don't like him and I still consider him an asshole in love with himself." You rolled your eyes.

"That was a few years ago, and people change! Give him a chance, I beg you! His parents kicked him out of the house and he really has nowhere to go! You can't let him spend Christmas on the street!" Robin was awfully determined and you weren't surprised by her at all, together with Steve they became best friends (which you couldn't quite understand), so it was normal for her to want to help him. Her pleading gaze burned a hole in the back of your head as you walked to the kitchen.

"Can't he stay at Eddie's?" you sighed, knowing it wouldn't be right.

"That trailer can barely hold him and his uncle, you know that well. I am begging you, I promise it won't be that bad."

"Fine! but one mean word out of his mouth in anyone's direction and he's out the door, understood?" you turned around with a serious face. "And until the end of the next year one of you will have to take my turn at washing dishes, I don't care how you share."

"Thank you!" she excitedly ran up to you hugging you, and a moment later disappeared into the hallway, where she quickly grabbed the phone and dialed some number. "Pack your things dingus! She said yes!"

You couldn't stop a smile creeping onto your face when you saw Robin so excited, but when you remembered what it was caused by, all your energy focused on the anxiety of having to see the person you wanted to avoid for the rest of your life from now on, day after day.

Less than an hour later, Steve showed up on your doorstep with several cardboard boxes. An overjoyed Robin was showing him his new abode while you were sitting on the living room couch watching TV. You couldn't focus on what was just playing there. The presence of a man in the apartment triggered mixed feelings in you. It was not the mere fact that it was a man. You were sure that if suddenly Eddie or Jonathan or even Argyle wanted to move in with you, you would feel comfortable with that. But this particular man who was just unpacking his things in an empty room made your hands sweat and your body tense up every time he was near you. You knew that the upcoming weeks would be nerve-wracking for you, and adapting to the new conditions would not come easily at all.

As you turned off the TV and headed toward your room you bumped into each other in the hallway.

"uh, hey..." he said in an uncertain voice. "t-thank you for agreeing, you're really a lifesaver for me."

"Not the first and not the last time Harrington." You rolled your eyes. "To be clear, I'm doing this only because of my sister. The fact that you live here changes nothing between us." You added frigidly and, without waiting for a response, locked yourself in the room.

Memories began to gather in your head, which intensified your irritation. Even though it was several years ago you remembered perfectly what made Steve Harrington someone you couldn't stand.

The winter ball at Hawkings High was approaching, everyone was excitedly talking about their partners and creations, as if everyone had forgotten that there were other topics to talk about. Everything about the event seemed overwhelming to you, you didn't want to admit it, but you were jealous that everyone had already found their pair, and you had no one to go with. To avoid all the fuss you decided to hide in the library and focus on your studies, it seemed the best way out.

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere." Steve's voice snapped you out of your concentration.

"I was just working on our project." you smiled at the sight of him. From day one, something about him made you want to get to know him better. It was a matter of time before your feelings developed toward him. However, Steve Harrington King of the School never looked in your direction. The queues of girls who lined up for him took up 100% of his attention, so when the teacher paired you up for a project you felt like you had won the lottery, because for the first time his attention was fully devoted to you.

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about." he said, sitting down across from you. "I know we were supposed to meet tomorrow and prepare some things, but the coach is doing an extra training session for us and I can't miss it, sorry."

"Oh." you were disappointed, you had been looking forward to tomorrow's meeting for a long time, especially since it was to be held after school and at his house. You'd been wondering all week what to wear, how to style your hair, what his house looked like, since you'd never been invited to any of his big parties, so it was still a mystery to you.

"I'm so sorry! Maybe I can make it up to you somehow?" he sent you a smile that was capable of bringing anyone to their knees.

"But...how? So far I've done everything myself, you only signed your name on a piece of paper." you didn't hide the fact that you were upset.

"How about I take you with me to the ball as compensation?" he suggested. In that moment all the air went out of you and you had to suddenly remember how to breathe. Was this a dream? If so, you didn't want to wake up for all the world's sakes. "You okay?" he asked after a while seeing your shocked face.

"Yes!" you said too fast and louder than you wanted to. "I mean...yes, Steve. I would love to go with you."

"Great! So see you later?" He winked at you while heading for the door. If you hadn't been sitting there at that moment you would have been sure that his charm would have knocked you off your feet.

"Yeah..." you choked out still not believing what happened. By the end of the day there was only one thing on your mind already, and Robin couldn't handle the rush of joy you brought home with you that day.

The rest of the week passed quickly and pleasantly. Every day you saw Steve in the library doing a project, to which he suddenly started devoting a little more time than before. You had no idea where such a change came from, but it was obvious that you were happy with this course of events. Your happiness, unfortunately, did not last long. As Friday slowly came to an end you were walking towards the library with a smile on your lips when you noticed Steve with a group of friends. As you walked closer, hid behind a wall so they wouldn't see you and began to listen to their conversation.

"What do you mean we won't go to the ball together Steve?" Rachel was furious.

"Because I already have someone to go with." he replied quietly.

"After all, we agreed from the very beginning that we would go together!"

"I know!"

"Then who is the person you are standing me up for?" Silence. It was as if Steve had lost the ability to speak at that moment. "Steve?" Rachel didn't let go.

"I'm going with y/n."

"Y/n y/l?" interjected Hunter, his teammate. "Dude, have you lost your mind or what?"

"Tell me this is a joke and you're not shitting on me for this weirdo! You're way out of her league Steve, you know that perfectly well!"

"I know, but I had to think of something, she did almost the whole project for me, and that was the only thing that came to mind at that moment! I said it faster than I thought it through."

"You know that if you go with this loser, you won't win the title of king?"

"I know, Rachel." As if by the touch of a magic wand, all positive emotions fled from you in a flash. Sadness clenched your throat and made a sea of tears gather in your eyes. You had to get out of there, unfortunately, when you turned to go in the opposite direction someone bumped into you causing you to fall over and land right in front of the people you wanted to get away from so badly. Seeing this, the whole group burst out laughing.

"Get up, loser. We need to talk." Rachel stepped forward. "Our Steve sometimes doesn't think about what he says, so the fact that he invited you to the ball is one big mistake. How could you believe that someone like Steve would even want to look at you?" her venom-filled words made it harder and harder for you to hold back tears.

"Look, Steve! the loser really thought you liked her enough that you actually wanted to go to the ball with her."

"Steve would never look at you as anything more than a minion to do his homework for him. He needs someone by whom he's sure to win the title of prom king." Rachel continued. You dared to look at him. He was standing with his arms crossed, looking around at the faces of his friends and smiling at them. You couldn't believe that the whole situation was amusing him. It hurt you even more than the fact he was just toying with your feelings. The fact that the whole situation amused him tore your heart to pieces.

"Sorry y/n," he said seeing your heartbroken eyes. "But they are right." he shrugged his shoulders.

You didn't answer anything. With a quick step you left the school wanting to get home as soon as possible. Fortunately, there was no one in it. You spent the rest of the day in bed, accompanied by sadness and heartbreak, vowing never to let Steve Harrington get to your life again.

"Three minutes late!" your Aunt Monica shouted as soon as you appeared in the doorway of the pastry shop.

"I know, I know, sorry!" you said quickly stepping behind the counter. "A little trouble on the roads, people saw some snow and I think they suddenly forgot how to drive. But here I am, ready to work!" you lied. You couldn't admit that you overslept, your aunt, who was also your boss, had boundless patience however even she had some limits.

As soon as you were ready you got to work. You put fresh baked goods on the shelves, and when you were done, you switched with your aunt and together with the other cooks you took care of baking Christmas cookies, while she stood at the cash register. At first, working in a pastry shop didn't seem like the best thing for you, you had never been exposed to baking and didn't even feel much need for it. For the first few months you sucked at helping in the kitchen, it was as if you had two left hands and the only thing you were good for was lining up goods and cashing in customers. Your aunt, however, insisted that you learn at least the basics, and over time you actually finally began to get the hang of it to the point where no one was afraid to let you into the kitchen anymore. You were in the middle of preparing the icing when you were called to the cash register. On your way out of the kitchen you noticed that Steve was standing across the counter, the sight of which automatically made you feel your nerves tie a knot in your stomach.

"You have a visitor." said your aunt with a warm smile on her face.

"I'm at work, I can't have visitors." you replied dryly.

"You forgot to take breakfast from home... I thought I'd drop it off for you on my way to work." he said uncertainly placing a paper bag of food on the counter.

"Thank you. Now I have to get back." You quickly grabbed the bag and disappeared from their sight however, you heard him buy two more donuts for himself and Robin.

"What a lovely young man!" the woman said as she entered the room. "I see you've finally found someone who will take care of you."

"No!" you said exasperatedly. "Steve is Robin's hopeless friend who lives with us. He's a complete asshole and an idiot."

"The asshole wouldn't bring you breakfast, you know very well that Family Video is on the other side of Hawkins? He wasn't on his way at all."

You rolled your eyes and decided not to continue the conversation. You were furious. Another person around you had succumbed to Harrington's famous charms, and you didn't like that very much. Why was he even coming here? Does he think that bringing you breakfast will make you forget everything and let you be fooled again? That will never happen.

When lunchtime came you sat down with everyone at the table in the back room and opened your bag. In addition to the sandwiches you had made for yourself, there was your favorite chocolate, to which was attached a note saying "Have a nice day!". You looked at the bar with surprise when one of the senior cooks, Grace, leaned over your shoulder to read what it said.

"Someone here seems to have an admirer," she said melodiously.

"No." you said firmly feeling your cheeks burning. You didn't know why you felt embarrassed. Another wave of irritation at his behavior made you lose your appetite so you got up from the table, hid the sandwiches, and left the chocolate for your co-workers to share and eat. The rest of the day passed quickly however the mood remained the same. Still irritated, you couldn't stop thinking about the situation you were in. You knew that you had agreed to this yourself, but you never thought in your life that it would be so difficult and that it would get to the point where you would have to endure his presence even at work. Until now, even when you were forced to spend time with him, ignoring him was going fine. Now something had changed and you had no idea why.

Days passed, and Steve wasn't about to let go. Whenever you forgot to take your breakfast to work (and this happened quite often) he brought it to you. Every time there was also chocolate. When it was your turn to do your shopping for home, seeing you pull up in the parking lot he would come down and, without asking, take the bags from you and carry them upstairs to your apartment. When your favorite TV series was on, he always switched to the right channel at the same time so that you didn't miss an episode. When the kids visited you and ordered pizza he would always put two pieces on a plate and send Dustin up to your room to carry them to you, because he knew perfectly well that you would not accept them from him, and Dustin would not be denied. In mid-December when you and Robin were decorating your apartment he helped you, and the next day he brought the Christmas tree, which the three of you decorated together. He did many small gestures for you, which unfortunately did not escape your attention. You noticed each of them while trying with all your might to defend yourself from the affection that slowly began to appear in his direction. There were days when your anger and resentment toward him were dormant, and then you were grateful for the small gestures that relieved you. However, you didn't know why he was doing it. The purpose of it all was still a mystery to you, and that made you still feel insecure.

That morning when you woke up you had a feeling as if all your life had gone out of you. You were dizzy and felt an unpleasant nausea in your stomach. You also thought you might have a fever, but when you looked at your watch you noticed it was too late to look for a thermometer. You clumsily crawled out of bed and, fighting off all symptoms of feeling unwell, started getting ready for work. You could have taken the day off, but that would have meant that you would have had to spend the whole day alone with Steve, who also had today off and, as far as you knew, had no intention of going anywhere. Gritting your teeth, you left the house. Not wanting to drive in this state to work you took the bus.

"Hey, Halloween was already here, I don't recall hiring zombies! I'd sooner expect a Christmas elf here."

"I'm fine, I just slept poorly." You weren't fine at all. You felt incredibly weak. You were tripping over your own feet, unable to focus on anything, having trouble serving customers, not to mention that when you were in the kitchen the mere sight of food made you worse and worse.

"That's enough." Monica said in a firm tone as you once again stumbled over a chair. "Right now you are to go home and rest. If I see you here tomorrow I'll fire you, I swear."

"I can't go home now." you replied, feeling like you were in elementary school when your parents were angry about a bad grade in math.

"And why is that?"

"I took the bus today, the next one is only three hours away."

"Go to the back." She sighed, and you politely followed the order. The room was small and quiet. Sunlight broke through a small window, but it wasn't big enough to illuminate the entire room well. You sat down at a wooden table and hid your face in your hands. It's been a long time since you felt as nasty as you do today. When you rested your heavy head against the cold wall you felt relieved, but it didn't last long. You concentrated on your breathing, trying to make each inhalation deep in the hope that it would somehow help, but nothing came of it. You didn't know how long you spent there, it seemed like an eternity, when suddenly the door opened and your aunt and Steve appeared in it.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in a weak voice. You didn't even have the strength to sound angry.

"I called because I thought Robin would be there, but it turns out that Steve is off today and would be more than happy to take you home." her voice was very firm.

"I am fine." you replied.

"Stop being so stubborn y/n! You're off until the end of the week, I don't want to see you here until next Monday, now goodbye."

You hated that she was right. Reluctantly, you rose and shakily headed for Harrington's car.

"Do you want to stop at the drugstore and buy some medicine?" he asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"No."

The rest of the road passed in silence. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him glance at you from time to time as if to check if you were okay. It was as if he was worried about you, however, you didn't want to let it sink in. He has never worried about you and never will. At least, that's what you told yourself. It was easier that way.

Climbing the stairs to your floor proved to be a huge challenge for you. The more stairs you climbed, the more dizzy you became, so when you finally found yourself in the apartment you breathed a sigh of relief leaning against the wall.

"Go lie down and I'll make you some tea maybe it will make you feel better." At that moment you didn't know what had gotten into you. You didn't need his pity and feigned care.

"You can stop." you retorted.

"What?" he was visibly puzzled which angered you even more.

"Stop pretending you care, Steve. I'm not falling for it."

"It hasn't crossed your mind that maybe I really care about you?" This question completely knocked you out of your rhythm. What the hell was he talking about? Were these hallucinations caused by illness? Or was he telling the truth? No. You couldn't afford such a moment of weakness.

"You never cared about me, Harrington. Don't pretend it's different now."

"I've always cared about you, y/n."

"Don't bullshit me, Steve!" you shouted. "You humiliated me in the worst possible way, because of you I had no life until the end of school! Until the last day of school they bullied me for that situation. I kept praying that they would finally change the subject, that they would find something to distract them, but it didn't do anything. And you just watched and let it happen. I will never forget your fucking smile that you sent to your idiotic friends, who never missed an opportunity to laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, but it wasn't at all like you think, I really wanted to go to that damn ball with you then!"

"I can't believe you're still lying" you felt tears fall from your eyes. You felt again like you did in that school hallway. Hurt and helpless. In addition, the fact that you were sick did not help at all in controlling your emotions.

"I'm not lying!" he shouted. "I wanted to go to the prom with you, I really liked you, I still fucking like you y/n, but then I panicked. I was an asshole, an idiot for whom the only thing that mattered was becoming the king of the ball, being popular and liked by everyone. I was so blinded by it all that at that moment I didn't have the courage to tell the truth, so I just started nodding at them. I was a coward!"

"In that case, congratulations, I remember that you got your coveted plastic crown then, just like at every other ball I didn't go to because of you. I hope it was worth it in your opinion." Your tone was full of anger and regret. However, you felt relieved that you were finally able to get it off your chest after so long.

"It wasn't worth it and I will regret it forever, believe me this is one of the many things I will not be able to forgive myself for. But... I have changed, y/n. I really have changed, so please give me a chance to make it up to you somehow, to make it right I beg you."

"The last time you had to make something up to me ended very badly, Steve. I won't make the same mistake again." Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you turned your back to him and, without waiting for an answer, locked yourself in your room. You quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and lay on your bed wrapping yourself in a blanket. Not wanting to think about anything else, you played music and concentrated on the words of the songs and let all the agitated emotions slowly leave you. Suddenly a horrible tiredness caught up with you, which, combined with sickness, quickly lulled you to sleep.

At the same time, Steve sat in his room fighting guilt and self-pity. He hated himself for what kind of person he had been in high school, hated himself for how many people he had hurt because he was afraid of losing his status as king of the school. Now he knew that none of those things mattered. What did matter, however, were the consequences of his behavior. He spoke honestly when he admitted that he really liked you. When he finished school and started working with Robin at Scoops Ahoy you reappeared in his life again but this time things were completely different. Instead of warm smiles sent his way all he could count on were stares full of contempt. In fact, most of the time you simply ignored his presence, which caused him slight pain because he remembered how you were always eager to talk to him when you met in the library or in class. Back then you listened carefully to his every word and laughed at every joke, even the weak ones. Now he could only dream about it. At first he wanted to do the same thing. To treat you as if you did not exist, however, he could not. Every time you visited Robin at work at the sight of you his heart sped up. Later, things became much more complicated. Russians, Mind Flayer, Vecna, everything related to Upside Down messed up your lives decently. The struggle for survival brought people together, but it didn't work on you. At least not in Steve's case, which was another blow to him. However, he remembered that during one of the fights when he was lying barely conscious you shielded him with your own body from one of the monsters. When he was attacked by a herd of demobats you were the first to rush to his rescue and then without a second thought you took care of his wounds by sending him cool glances. Moments like those gave him hope that maybe things would still be good between you two someday. He wanted that more than anything else. However, at times when you did not have to fight to the death with the other dimension and met in groups together with the kids everything returned to normal, you spoke and looked at him only when necessary, extinguishing the flame of hope that was already barely smoldering. Despite this, he still did not give up. No matter how coldly you treated him he did not let go. Something always attracted him to you, and no matter how many times he tried he couldn't just forget about you. He wanted to make up for all the pain and sorrow you felt because of him, instead he wanted to make you feel happy, he wanted to hear you laugh at his jokes again, he dreamed of seeing you smile in his direction at least once more. He was sitting like this contemplating when suddenly he heard you run out of the room and slam into the bathroom.

You were awakened from your nap by a terrible nausea. Your stomach ached mercilessly and you felt you couldn't stand it any longer, so you quickly ran to the bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet. You didn't have to wait long when your stomach decided to return all its contents. The worst part was that you didn't feel any better. Opening the door, you saw Steve standing in front of it with a cup in his hand. Not having the strength to argue again, you just sighed and walked back to your room and he wordlessly followed you. Already lying in bed, you watched as he hesitantly approached and placed a cup of tea on the bedside table.

"If you need anything..." he said quietly looking at you. "Just call me." You didn't know if it was because you were sick or tired, but you felt like all the walls you were building to ward off him at that moment weren't doing their job as they should. It was as if, during your earlier argument together with the words, you had thrown out all the negative emotions, cleared the atmosphere and maybe were able to accept him as someone other than an enemy. Warm tea was indeed like a salve for your irritated stomach, after drinking it you felt better however you were still tired, which made you fall asleep once again. You lay in bed all day waking up and falling asleep every now and then. You noticed that every time you woke up the empty cup turned into a cup full of warm tea, in addition, there was a small ham sandwich next to it, because despite the fact that your stomach was exceptionally capricious today you had to eat something and Steve knew it perfectly well. Taking advantage of the fact that today, unusually, the door to your room was not closed, but ajar, from time to time he would peek through the gap left to see how you were feeling. As soon as he saw that you were asleep he took the opportunity to clean the empty dishes from the bedside table and re-brew the tea so that it was already waiting for you warm when you woke up. He made no secret of the fact that taking care of you gave him pleasure. For the first time in a very long time, he could see slight glimpses of warmth in your eyes instead of cold, heartless hatred. Once when you passed each other in the corridor you sent him a slight smile, which was a thank you for his care. Seeing it his heart skipped a beat. He didn't expect it completely, but seeing it then on your pale and tired face made hope bloom anew giving him a huge amount of motivation to keep fighting for you.

"Were you just in my sister's room while she is sleeping, you creep?" asked Robin. At the sound of her voice he jumped up.

"Shit, Robin. Keep your voice down or you'll wake her up!" he whispered.

"What's going on?"

"Your aunt called for someone to pick her up from work today because she's sick, so I went. She's been sleeping all day and throwing up in shifts." he explained.

"And you, as a good roommate, sneak into her room when she's sleeping and make sure she's still breathing?" she raised one eyebrow.

"It's not funny Robin." he said, annoyed that the whole situation was amusing her. "I just make sure she's not missing anything. I'll bring her warm tea from time to time, after all, that's not a bad thing! Besides, I'd do the same for you!"

"Easy, tiger," Robin raised her hands in a defensive gesture. "I was just messing with you. Actually, I'm grateful to you, she's stubborn enough that she would never ask for help. Not even me."

Looking one last time in your direction, Steve closed the door of your room and headed for the living room. He sank into the soft cushions of the couch and sighed deeply, feeling disappointed because Robin's return home meant that she would now take the lead in caring for you.

For the next two days, you still didn't have the strength to get out of bed, so Robin took time off work to be at home if necessary. By the third day you were feeling better, so with a calm head she was able to return to work leaving you alone in the apartment.

Enjoying the peace and quiet, you took this time to do a little cleaning and later to prepare dinner, which was a form of thanks for the fact that she and Steve were taking care of you. Reluctantly, you had to admit that you were slowly beginning to see in him what the rest of them had long seen. When they returned home warm food was already waiting on the table. Seeing the three plates Robin gently poked him on the shoulder and sent him a broad smile, and Harrington responded with the same upon seeing this small gesture. Dinner passed as pleasantly as ever for you. They told you about the strange customers they had to serve today and the even stranger movies they were interested in. You listened to them and occasionally burst out laughing or injected some comment. In addition, your sister kept inundating you with her uncertainties about today's band meeting, as her relationship with Vicky had been quite complicated for some time. She couldn't stop wondering what she should wear for tonight how to behave, what to say. You and Steve sent each other a communicative look and began to calm her down. After dinner, they cleaned up everything, and in the meantime you sat on the couch watching them. Your eyes periodically met the hazel ones of your roommate, who always responded with a warm gentle smile. Then you felt a strange warmth on your cheeks, so you abruptly turned your head the other way just so he wouldn't see the red that flooded you. Finally, unable to bear the onslaught of strange tingling and rapid heartbeat in his presence, you decided to hole up in your room for a while.

A loud banging on the door sounded around the apartment. Before you had time to approach and open it Max was already inside throwing a red rose on the floor and then herself on the living room couch.

"Woah! Hey, what's wrong?" you asked walking up to the girl.

"Feelings suck!" she exclaimed and sank her face into a fluffy pillow. You sat down next to her and, stroking her back gently, waited for her to calm down.

There were quiet sniffles coming from the living room when Steve came out of his room and saw a flower lying on the floor. Startled, he followed the sound of sobbing. Max always seemed to be the toughest of all the kids. Rarely was anything able to get her off balance and make her cry, so the state she was in now worried you both a lot. From the thrown rose, Steve deduced that the matter probably involved Lucas. So he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the chocolate ice cream that he and Robin kept for tough and sad situations. This one was definitely that. On the way, he grabbed three spoons and took a seat next to Max, so that the girl would be between the two of you. Taking the box of ice cream from him, she placed it on her lap so that you all had easy access. You turned on the TV for a music program and in silence began to eat ice cream while watching music videos and listening to them. When you finished, you saw that Max had calmed down a bit.

"Are you going to tell us what happened?" you asked in a calm tone grabbing her hand, and she squeezed it tighter to pull you closer. Understanding what was going on, you sat down as close as you could and hugged her. Despite the tough girl she played, everyone knew very well that in difficult moments she loved to hide in the arms of people she trusted to feel safe. That's why Steve, after a moment's thought, put his arm around both of you. Feeling his touch made you stiffen. One part of you wanted to run as far away from this as possible, to get away from him and never be touched again in your life. However, the other part turned out to be stronger. It was the part that found a comfort you had never known before. Feeling you relax, he began to gently draw small circles on your arm. All three of you sat snuggled into each other now creating a very family picture. If anyone saw you now, they would never in their lives guess that Steve is the person you hate. But was hate still the only emotion you felt when thinking about him? Just a few weeks ago you would have been more than sure, but now? You were horrified by the speed at which your feelings were stirring and changing.

"Feelings are stupid." Max said tilting her head toward Steve.

"I can agree with that, but I need a little more detail." You laughed lightly.

"It's about Lucas and his stupid basketball. His stupid friends, his stupid parties. Everything is stupid!" she burst out. "It's the third time in a row he's forgotten about our date because suddenly some party with his team fell out. I keep seeing the cheerleaders drooling at the sight of him, he started sitting with them in the cafeteria, he left us!"

"I'm sorry..." you understood the feeling perfectly. High school was like a terrible jungle full of divisions and species, which poor Max now had to deal with.

"You know what the worst part is? That damn prom! Lucas got nominated as king, I heard the cheearlider captain, Triss, planning to invite him. I heard her laughing with her hopeless friends that Lucas will never get the title of king if he goes with me." her voice began to crack. "I don't even know why it hurts me so much, after all, I never cared about things like that stupid prom!" the memories began to come back to you at a deadly fast pace. Suddenly the touch you felt on your arm was no longer soothing, you felt it burning your skin, where terrible scars would remain. Under the pretext of going to get tissues, you quickly moved away from them, and when you returned you knelt down in front of the girl and put your hands on her legs which she was shaking nervously.

"Maybe it's about your fear that Lucas will choose Triss?" you asked quietly.

"I don't want the stupid plastic crown to be more important than me."

"I know, honey, I know..." Of course you knew. You knew exactly how she felt and you wanted nothing more than to protect her from those feelings. Max didn't deserve to ever feel inadequate and worthless the way you did back then.

Steve felt as if someone was sticking a knife straight into his heart and slowly twisting it in every possible direction without a hint of compassion. He hated the sight when any of the kids were suffering. In addition, looking at Max's glazed tears, yours from that day appeared before his eyes. The pain he saw in them when you looked at him haunted him until today. He imagined how awful you must have felt. It occurred to him that you must have looked like that too when you came home that day. Suddenly he felt tears come to his eyes too, he chased them away with a quick blink and grunted drawing your attention back to him.

"And what's with the rose?" he asked.

"He came to see me with it after school. I thought he was going to ask me to the prom, but he only came to say that once again we would have to postpone our meeting because he got an invitation to some idiotic party."

"Every rose has its thorn." you quoted a song you recently heard.

"What do you mean?"

"Every rose, no matter how beautiful, has thorns. Just like people, even the most beautiful ones have flaws." You explained. "Talk to him Max. You've been through so much together, I'm sure you can get along. Besides, I think that for Lucas you are one of the most important things he has in his life and he will never let anyone or anything take your place."

"He already allows it, he still chooses to meet with his teammates and cheeliders instead of me," she said.

"It seems to me that it's just a temporary admiration of popularity and he doesn't see things the same way you do."

"Y/n is right, you need to talk to him about it." interjected Steve. "The title of king is worthless, even more if he had to lose you because of it." Saying this he looked at you all the time, you felt his gaze on you however you did not dare to respond with the same. The tone of his voice, though, told you everything. You didn't have to look at him to notice how hard this topic was for him. You also noticed the moment when his voice broke slightly, as if Steve was about to join Max and cry with her. Maybe he was telling the truth and actually cared about you?

"I'll talk to him, but tomorrow, there's no time today anyway because they have a Hellfire meeting." sighed Max. "Can I stay here? I don't want to be alone right now." she asked.

"Of course you can. Why don't we order pizza for dinner and have a movie marathon?" you said enthusiastically. She only smiled slightly and nodded her head.

"I'll go get you some movies from Family Video." suggested Steve. "I still have to drive in somewhere on the way anyway." He said leaving the two of you in the apartment.

The road to Hawkins High passed quickly for him. All the time in his head he replayed the situation from a few years ago, then thought about how to lead the conversation with Lucas. Also, your words that every rose has thorns echoed in his head all the time. There was a time when he was like a beautiful rose to you, and when you finally managed to catch it, its thorns were sharp enough to hurt you so badly that they left scars. All alone, he allowed a few tears to run down his cheeks. The flood of emotions that were simmering inside him had to find some outlet eventually.

When he entered the drama room, they were just getting ready for the campaign. There were still a few people missing, but luckily Lucas was already there.

"We need to talk," he said, pointing at the boy.

"Something wrong?" interjected Dustin with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Dude, were you crying?" added Eddie seeing his friend's still glazed eyes.

"Max was at your place?" Lucas guessed immediately.

"Yes." sighed Steve ignoring Eddie's question. "We need to talk about the prom. Who are you going to go with?"

"Of course with her, I wanted to invite her on Monday after school to go for a walk and then ask her if she would go with me."

"So you had no intention of going with the cheerleader?"

"Of course not Steve! Why should I?"

"Because of the nomination for king."

"Dude, you don't think some piece of plastic is going to be more important to me than Max?"

"I hope not." Steve was glad Lucas was a lot smarter than he was. Feeling relieved, he plopped down in one of the chairs and hid his face in his hands.

"Steve what's wrong with you?" interjected Will who had been watching him for a long time.

"I just- just wanted to make sure Lucas doesn't do anything stupid," he said.

"And he won't tread in your footsteps?" Eddie's words were on the mark. Seeing the surprise on the boys' faces, he continued. "Do you think why y/n always avoids Harrington, and when she has to talk to him she spits venom?" Steve didn't want to raise his eyes. He was ashamed because he knew the kids had always admired him, now their opinion of him might change when they knew how he treated y/n a few years ago. "Once upon a time, back in the days of King Steve's reign in the kingdom of Hawkins High y/n only had eyes of him. Unfortunately, she was never very popular or well-liked, so she belonged to a group of outcasts who were forbidden to even come close to those in the royal group. When a ball at the castle was approaching, his highness Harrington saw in poor y/n a candidate for his partner. The girl delightedly accepted the invitation. The whole kingdom was boiling with gossip when for the next week the King and the peasant girl met in the library, spending long hours there. No one knew exactly what went on behind the library doors. However, everyone could see how the previously unnoticed y/n was up to radiating joy. No one had ever seen her so happy in her life, and some suspected that a local quack had treated her to some not-so-legal herbs, but they were wrong. The reason was King Steve, by whom she was finally noticed. Unfortunately, the good fairy spell didn't work for long. It turned out that the crown of the king of the ball was more important than anything else, so King Steve gave up the company of y/n and went to the ball that the noblewoman Rachel, breaking the heart of the peasant girl in the process. But that's not all, instead of refusing her in solitude King Steve did it in the presence of his army of half-wits, who already to the very end persecuted and ridiculed her at every possible turn, and our king never stood up for her."

"If that's true then I'm not at all surprised y/n couldn't stand you." commented Dustin. "But fortunately you've changed," he added.

"After all, y/n agreed for you to live with them, right? That means all is fine between you two?" interjected Mike.

"It's not that simple." Steve stood up. "Recently I have the impression that things are a little better, but not quite." he remembered the two of you arguing a few days ago. "I think she will always hate me." he added sadly.

"There is a very thin line between love and hate Steve..." Eddie laughed lightly. "You don't even know when they start to mix together until eventually one turns into the other. If you've managed to win her heart once before, why not try again?"

"How can I do that when most of the time she won't even talk to me? For several years I've been trying to show her that I've changed, that I regret all this, but she stubbornly refuses to let me."

"The apology must be as big as the mistake you made." commented Dustin.

"But I have no idea what to do! How do I apologize to her when there are days when she doesn't want to look at me? How do I get her attention? Today I really thought something would change. When Max came in and needed a hug we sat down so that I put my arm around both of them. For the first time in several years she let me touch her and didn't run away. I even got the feeling that she liked it, until Max mentioned the whole prom situation, how the cheerleaders said Lucas would never win the title of king if he went with her. That's when it all came flooding back and she ran away from me like she was burnt."

"Wait, they really said that?" interjected a shocked Lucas.

"Yes, that's why I came here. I had to make sure you were smarter than me.

"Of course I'm smarter Steve, I would never treat Max the same way." The boy's words hurt, but he knew they were true. He deserved them. After everything he had done to you, he knew he deserved a lot of hurtful words. "Even if I sometimes make mistakes it's never that big," he said.

"Yeah, Every rose has its thorn, right?"

"What?"

"She said that to Max today, people and their flaws are like a rose with thorns."

"I think I even know where she got that from." Eddie said with a smile. "It's the title of Poison's latest song. Dustin, do you remember? We were listening to it the other day as she helped us paint the figures."

"Yes I remember." The teenager nodded. "And I think I have an idea on how to get her to finally give you a chance to make things right."

As Dustin presented his plan, the rest of them got involved as well, adding their ideas. It was a plan that could either fix everything or completely destroy it, leaving nothing left to salvage. All the while thinking about it, Steve returned home with a couple of Christmas movies in his hand, but he lost track of time so much that when he entered the living room he found you and Max there, both of you asleep on the couch while watching TV. The girl, wrapped in a blanket, was lying with her head on your thighs and you were leaning slightly against the edge of the couch. Not wanting to wake you, he went straight to his room thinking about how to put Dustin's plan into action. It was risky, he knew it might be too much, but he had nothing else. He was desperate to get you back. Living together with you made him realize how much he wanted you in his life. You constantly occupied his thoughts, he had no peace from it even when he slept because then you visited him in his dreams. However, in dreams there was no trace of hate. In dreams you were again sitting together in the school library laughing and talking. In dreams you would let him grab your hand and when he did it you smiled broadly. In dreams he could hide you in his arms when you were again in the Upside Down hiding from the Demogorgon. In dreams he could kiss you. When, after defeating Vecna, you sat on the porch of Hopper's hut feeling relieved that it was over. You sat in silence, and as soon as he said your name you left. However, in his dreams you always stayed and listened to what he had to say. When he finished speaking and apologizing for everything he had done to you, you forgave him. With a slight smile, you placed your hand on his and he then moved closer to you and connected your lips. Later, he would wake up and try at all costs to fall back asleep to return to that beautiful moment.

The next few days flew by quickly and were filled with doubts. Robin suspiciously often left home leaving you alone with Steve. You stopped hiding all day in your room and spent more and more time together. Conversations usually started with small topics about Christmas plans and gifts. When Steve said that he would rather spend Christmas alone you felt sorry for him. No matter how much you defended against it you were beginning to like him and didn't want him to spend it alone in his room, so you suggested he join you and Robin when your parents came over on Christmas morning. After a moment's thought, he agreed and thanked you by sending a warm smile that made your heart beat harder. You felt the old feelings towards him returning and didn't know what to do to suppress them inside you again. As time went by, more and more thoughts about him popped up in your head, so you had to find something to do. You decided to clean the whole apartment, avoiding Steve and Robin's rooms. You started vacuuming, mopping floors and wiping dust while listening to music loudly, so you didn't hear your flatmates come home after several hours of cleaning. You were just standing on a wooden stool and cleaning the windows when Robin came behind you and shouted loudly. Frightened, you jumped up and, losing your balance, fell straight into the arms of Steve, who was standing next to you.

"I got you." he said clasping his arms around you.

"T-Thanks," you howled, exiting his embrace. Once you slipped out of his grasp you felt an unpleasant coldness envelop you. It was as if you were missing the warmth you had felt just a moment ago leaning against the boy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be so scared." Robin said, however, a small smile was visible on her face. "I see you didn't wait to clean up for us?"

"I had to do something." you replied. "But don't worry, your rooms haven't even been looked at, so you'll have time to clean up."

"And I already thought that the magic of Christmas would work and you would do the good deed and clean up for me." she rolled her eyes dramatically.

"In your dreams!" you said and poked her lightly. "I'll finish cleaning the windows, and you will make dinner in the meantime. I'm starving!"

"Just try not to fall again you wimp, this time there will be no one to catch you." she said while winking at you. She wanted to let you know that she had noticed a change in the atmosphere between the two of you. Robin was a great observer, so she immediately noticed the warming of your relations.

"Shut up Robs." you said and quickly turned toward the windows so that neither of them would notice the redness on your cheeks.

The day before Christmas you were not given a rest. Suddenly everyone remembered that it would be appropriate to wrap presents, so Dustin, Will, Mike and Lucas begged you for help because it turned out that wrapping things with colored paper was too difficult. In time, you were joined by Max And El. That's how you just spent the whole afternoon hidden from the world in Mike's basement.

Unaware of the ruse, you didn't suspect that the kids were deliberately packing everything wrong so that you would stay put for as long as possible and not come home until the evening. When the packing was finally over Dustin caught you before you left the house.

"Can I have a request of you?" he asked quietly.

"Anytime." you replied seeing his nervous look on his face.

"Just... remember that Christmas is also a time for forgiveness, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just Promise, please!"

"Okay Dusty, I will remember."

The boy hugged you tightly and only then let you go home.

At the same time, Robin was helping Steve put the finishing touches on Dustin's plan so that everything worked out perfectly.

"I'm really glad you're doing this." your sister said looking at the living room which was hung with little Christmas lights.

"Do you think this will work?" asked a confused Steve while nervously combing his hand through his hair.

"I have no idea. I think it will work, but there's also a chance that she'll get so mad that all the monsters in the Upside Down will look like puppies next to her."

"I really care about her, Robin."

"I know dingus. That's why I'm helping you. If it weren't for how much you've changed I would never in my life have let you get close to her."

"Yeah..."

"We need to think positively."

"What's going on here?" you asked as you entered the room. Robin wordlessly ran out of the apartment leaving you alone with the boy. The soft light of Christmas lights was spreading around the room, plus there were single roses scattered everywhere. "Steve, what the hell is going on here?" you felt your nerves rise to your throat.

"Before you leave and start hating me again I beg you to wait. Let me explain, let me try to explain," he said walking up to you and grabbed your hand. "Please." Disoriented you looked at him and then at your hand tucked in his. Later you looked around the room again connecting the dots. It was all planned, and everyone was involved in this intrigue. Now you understood what Dustun had in mind before you left the Wheeler house.

"Fine," you said quietly. The boy's face lit up as he pulled you toward the Christmas tree under which hung a small box.

"This is for you." He said pulling it off the branch and handed it to you. Inside was a silver necklace with a rose-shaped tag. Surprised, you looked at him and were about to say something however he immediately interrupted you. "I can't get your words out of my head about that rose when Max came. I know I don't deserve it, because my thorns hurt you badly, but I would like to use my Christmas wish for something I lost a few years ago." He walked over to the radio, from which, after a while, the sounds of a familiar song began to play.

We both lie silently still In the dead of the night Although we both lie close together We feel miles apart inside Was it something I said or something I did Did the words not come out right Though I tried not to hurt you Though I tried But I guess that's why they say

Still under the influence of shock, you didn't know what to answer. There was a void in your head, your heart was racing toward the boy, so it had no problem taking control, so when Steve extended his hand in your direction and asked you to dance you gave him yours. He pulled you close by gently placing his hand on your waist. His hands were pleasantly warm. As you swayed to the rhythm of the melody he did not take his eyes off you still smiling. He thought he couldn't feel happier than he did in that moment.

Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn Yeah it does

With each word you were closer and closer to each other, the gap between you ceased to exist. Your heart was pounding hard and fast. At first it was due to nerves, however, very quickly you relaxed and found comfort under his touch. Your brain told you to run as far away as possible, but your heartbeat drowned it out very effectively.

Though it's been a while now I can still feel so much pain Like a knife that cuts you the wound heals But the scar, that scar remains I know I could have saved a love that night If I'd known what to say Instead of makin' love We both made our separate ways

"How did you find this song?" you mouthed finally.

"I had a little help." He smiled. "Do you like it?" you nodded affirmatively. You didn't know what was happening to you, tears began to invade your eyes, you felt like you were about to explode. You had so many thoughts in your head that one merged with the other creating one big mess in which you couldn't find yourself. You rested your head on his chest so that he wouldn't notice what was happening to you, hoping that the swaying rhythm would calm you down.

And now I hear you found somebody new And that I never meant that much to you To hear that tears me up inside And to see you cuts me like a knife I guess Every rose has its thorn Just like every night has its dawn| Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song Every rose has its thorn

When the song came to an end you didn't want to pull away from him. You knew that when you did he would notice the tears streaming from your eyes. Feeling you still hiding your face in his sweater and not moving he worriedly looked down.

"y/n?" he asked quietly moving his hand to your back where he began to gently stroke you. "What's wrong?" in response he heard only a quiet sniff. He automatically hugged you tightly wanting you to feel safe in his arms. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know Steve." Your voice was weak and squeaky.

"Talk to me, please."

"It's just...a few years ago it was all I dreamed about. I dreamed of you Steve, and then when I thought something had changed, that you finally noticed me..."

"I acted like a complete asshole." he finished for you.

"You broke my heart, Steve. For such a long time you allowed others to destroy my life. Day after day, the sight of you in the hallways reminded me that I wasn't good enough for you. What if it's the same now? If after time you find that I'm still not like that? That you can afford something better? I can't stand it a second time Steve. If I forgive you now this rejection on your part will hurt me even more than it did then."

"No y/n, no." said cupping your face. "I don't deserve you, it's me who is not good enough for you. You're a million times better, but I can't stand the way things are between us anymore. You're like the most beautiful rose in the world and I want nothing more than to make you mine, with or without thorns. I want to make you happy and show you that you deserve the best. I know you have every right not to forgive me, but I promise that if you do I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't regret this decision. I need you in my life y/n."

"You have to promise me that everything you're saying now is true." Seeing your heartbroken eyes, he felt his heart breaking into pieces. He was sick of watching you cry because of him.

"I swear. I swear on everything."

"Okay." You whispered after a longer moment of thought.

"Okay?"

"Yes, Steve, we can start from the beginning, but that doesn't change the fact that I will need a lot of time to fully trust you. It won't be easy."

"I'll give you as much time as you need."

"Fine." You smiled slightly. "Thank you, Steve..."

"For you, everything." He hugged you tightly, filled with joy. ""That means you'll accept my gift?" he asked after a while.

"Of course I will, it's beautiful." he quickly walked over to the table where you had left the box earlier and took out a necklace from it, which after a moment he fastened around your neck.

"I don't want to push or rush things too fast, but there's one more thing I've really wanted to do for a very long time." he said looking into your eyes.

"What is it?" with a movement of his head he pointed to the ceiling. When you followed your eyes there you saw how centrally above you hung a mistletoe.

"Am I to understand that this was also part of the plan?" you asked teasingly.

"I'd be lying if I said it wasn't..." responsible scratching the back of his neck with his hand. You chuckled walking up to him. You stood on your toes to reach his cheek and kissed him there.

"I think that's enough for now," he said.

"R-right...Uhm- Do you feel like a little movie marathon? I happen to have some movies."

"I would love to."

Forgiveness was never a simple matter, and you knew you still had a long and winding road ahead of you, but you had a feeling it was worth the risk. Steve, in turn, realized he was wrong. Sitting on the couch with you now, putting his arm around you and knowing that you had finally given him a chance after so long, he felt even happier. And happiness was the best motivation to always show you how much he cared about you.

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