#prince thei tag

[obsessedwithegos]

Hello again! I’m back but with a writing prompt! Doesn’t have to be filled or anything, just wanted to share it cause you’re one of my favorite writers :D A young (I don’t mean child like young adult) royal gets kidnapped by a criminal for ransom, but it turns out that the royal family was really toxic and abusive to the person so now this criminal has to deal with the repercussions of committing treason and crimes against the crown while having to take this little prince/princess/heir with them. Could be a whumpee/slightly better whumper situation or could be a whumpee/caretaker or even a whumpee/a bit healed other whumpee. Hope you enjoy!

So I took a little creative liberty and made a small change! Prince Thei is still kidnapped for ransom, but Alistair wasn’t specifically targeting royalty! 

Notes: Eldryth is a 5 headed dragon, but her green and black heads share a consciousness and her blue and white heads share a separate one. Meaning she has 3 separate consciousnesses! Also 10,000 gold is equivalent to $1,000,000 USD!

CWs: Draconic Sibling whumper(s), Vampiric Tiefling whumpee, Changling carewhumper, Sibling abuse, Downplaying abuse, Kidnapping, Improper wound care, Whumpee seeking out carewhumper

~~~~~~~~~

Thei harshly pulled their hood over their head as they stormed out of the castle.

“Oh come on you big baby! You know I’m just messing with you!” Eldryth’s primary head called out

“Messing with them typically doesn’t involve getting claws on them.” Her green and black heads pointed out, causing her to roll her eyes. “Oh please, they need to get over themself.” she huffed.

“Ma’am, should we send someone after them?” A guard asked. 

“No, if they want alone time let them have it.” She says at the same time as her blue and white heads, resulting in a slight echo effect.

~~

Thei sniffled as they try to wipe tears away so they don’t fall into the fresh claw wound on their face. 

Their face burned and they kept their eyes looking at the ground. “That sanctimonious bitch and her vacuous heads.” They muttered. 

They kicked a rock “Just once I’d like to take reprisal on her without getting in trouble.” They huffed 

They continued to rant to themself, unaware that there was someone just around the corner that was listening. 

“I- Just- AUGH–UMPF-” Their ranting was cut off by a paw slapping over their mouth as they’re grabbed and dragged off into the night. 

They attempted to struggle but it didn’t take long for something to wrap around their tail and legs, a blind fold thrown over their eyes before being gagged, and then their wrists being grabbed to be tied behind their back.

Despite being restrained they still continued to squirm and try to yell into the gag, regardless of their attempts they were still carried off.

~~

Alistair was breathing heavily by the time he got back to his cabin, while the person he caught seemed to have tired out a while ago, carrying them and keeping up this form was exhausting. 

He locked the door behind him and hulled the person over to a chair he had already prepared. He drops them into it, unwrapping his tail from around their legs and tail so he could tie them to the chair first. 

Once he had them secured to the chair he finally drops the tabaxi disguise. “Alright. Let's see who you are. Hopefully you have someone who’s willing to pay good money for you.” He mutters the last sentence as he grabs their hood and yanks it back. 

He hums as he looks over their green hair and pink skin. “Well, I can’t see your eyes but you’re pretty cute.” He grabs their chin so he could move their head to get a better look at them. One of their cheeks had a pretty deep cut in it. “Even if I can’t use you for ransom I’m sure I could sell-”

His eyes landed on the scale choker with 5 colorful gems that was clasped around the person’s neck. “Fuuuccckk.” He whispered as he felt his heart drop.

He just kidnapped Prince Thei. He just kidnapped one of the children of Tiamat. Oh he was so screwed. 

Then he paused. Why was the prince walking around without any guards? Why was he hurt?

He sighs and goes to get some rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and a bandage. When he returned, he kneeled down in front of the prince. “I’m going to take your gag off so I can clean your wound. If you yell I’ll shove it down your throat.” He threatened before taking the gag off.

To his surprise, the prince remained quiet. 

He poured rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball before pressing it against the wound, resulting in a hiss from them as it stung their wound. 

~~~~

Despite the stinging, Thei didn’t pull try to pull away. Other than the occasional hiss from the stinging, they remained quiet. 

“What happened?” The kidnapper asked as he put a bandage on the wound. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“It’s not everyday there’s an injured prince wandering around without guards.”

They hesitated for a moment as their ears pin back. “My sisters happened. It’s not that serious.” 

“It’s not? Is it a common occurrence?” He asked, sounding confused. 

“... Yes.” 

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. 

“If I take off your blindfold, you won't have me executed when you’re brought back home. Will you?” He asked.

Thei snorts “As if I have that ability.” 

“Just answer the question.”

“No. I won’t have you executed. If you’re going to use me for ransom, I’d recommend sending it straight to Tiamat. She’s the only one likely to pay it.” 

The kidnapper was quiet for a moment as he took the blindfold off. “The name is Alistair.” He introduces himself. 

They squint their eyes and blink a few times to adjust to the light. Upon seeing the changling in front of them, they looked confused and then looked around. “Where’s your furry partner in crime?” 

“I don’t have a partner in crime. That was me.” Alistair answered as he turned his hands into fluffy orange paws. 

Thei looked at him in astonishment. “You can turn into animal folk? I thought humanoid changlings couldn’t do that.” 

He shrugs and poofs his arms back to normal. “Well, like you, I’m an oddball.” 

“How peculiar.” They muttered. 

“As for the ransom. If I attempted to do that, do you have any idea what the size of the bounty that would be put on my head would be?” He rhetorically asked. “Tomorrow I’ll drop you off somewhere outside of the city and you can walk back home.” 

“I imagine it’d be around ten thousand gold.” They answered, resulting in a choked sound from Alistair. 

They paused for a moment. “What if I don’t want to go back?” They asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“What?” Confusion was plastered across his face. “You’d rather stay with your kidnapper than go back home?”

They gave a half shrug as it was difficult to move their arms. “I mean, this is the most thrill I’ve had in a while! You aren’t beating me, you aren’t shouting at me, or claiming how much better you are than me. You actually tended to my wound.” They listed off as they managed to adjust their hands enough to be touching the rope around their wrists. 

“This is significantly better than that stuffy old castle.” They added on right before acid from their hands caused the rope around their wrists to snap. “That’s a little better.” They muttered. 

He looked at them, completely bewildered before shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not risking my head just because Prince Thei doesn’t want to go home.” 

He picks up the leftover supplies that he used to tend to their wound. “I hope you’re comfortable because I’m not untying you, so you’re going to be sleeping in that chair..” He says before leaving the room to put supplies away before retiring to bed.

“Wha- No dinner?!” Thei called out. Upon getting no response they pouted. “What an awful way to treat a captive.”

~~~~

Alistair woke up before the sun rose. He got dressed and left his room as he mentally prepared himself to carry Prince Thei back to the city. 

What he wasn’t prepared for was finding the chair that he had tied them to empty with the robes on the floor with ends that had been eaten away by acid. 

Panic started to build until he spotted the familiar pinks and greens of the prince sleeping on his couch. He breathed a sigh of relief before walking over to them. 

Despite the situation they looked like they were sleeping mostly peacefully. Their face was almost entirely relaxed with the exception of their eyebrows being slightly furrowed. 

“Alright escape artist. Get up.” He says as he knees them in the stomach.

They wake up with a yelp followed by wheezing as the air is forced out of their lungs as they try to roll onto their back. “You could’ve- fuck- just shaken me awake!” They managed to get out between wheezes and gasps. 

“And you could’ve stayed in the chair.” He snipped before grabbing one of their arms and forcing them up “Now come on.” 

Alistair just wanted to get this done and over with to get the prince out of his hair and to get the risk of such a high bounty off of his back. 

Little did he know that the prince would continue to seek him out, just for a bit of thrill and to get away from their family. 

~~~~~~~~

General: @emmettnet @thebluejaysworld

[christmascoles]

The Queen of Love and Beauty

Summary: at the tournament you get a rose from your handsome knight. after a few deaths in the seven kingdom, you find yourself in an unwanted position.

Tags: kissing, targcest, viserys being weird as always

part one.

When the time for the tournament approached, you were very excited. Your heart was racing to see a knight like the ones in the stories you had read. The tournament began and continued indefinitely until your father, Daemon Targaryen arrived. You fidgeted in your seat and closed your eyes tightly. The head of the knight who had fallen off his horse was completely crushed. You felt disgusted and wanted to vomit. Your uncle touched your hand.

"Don't be afraid, dear. These things happen."

And then he continued.

"Look at your cousin Rhaenyra, she’s watching with such excitement."

Your Uncle King Viserys was always kind to you. You loved him... he was like a father to you, especially when your father was away in the Red Keep. You listened to what he said and continued to watch the tournament like your excited cousin. You were the first and only child, the daughter of Rhea Royce and Daemon Targaryen. Your father ignored you so much that if you didn't have silver hair, you were sure he would have believed you weren't his. Your mother Rhea would not come near you, just like your father. So you were often lonely during your days at the Red Keep.

"The next contest is between Prince Daemon Targaryen and Ser Criston Cole!"

You knew House Cole. When you spent time alone in the Red Keep, you found plenty of time to read. House Cole lived in the Stormlands. They were not as noble as the other houses, and they were stewards to House Dondarrion. Your father was a strong contender, but as you saw, you realized that Ser Criston was just as strong a contender as your father. Your father was ruthless and deceitful on this day.

"At what stroke do you think Cole will fall, cousin?".

"I think he's doing very well. He can win."

Your uncle overheard the conversation.

"I'm betting Cole will lose, anyone agree with me?"

Rhaenyra turned and called out. Several ladies and lords backed her up.

"My father will lose." You said.

You knew because he was your father and you knew the greed in his eyes. He killed a knight to humiliate Alicent and the Hightowers. His greed would be his downfall.

"I'm rooting for Y/N too. I think Cole can win." King Viserys said.

"Father!" Rhaenyra rebelled.

Viserys laughed and stood up. You didn't understand what he was doing, but you were very excited. Because as he stood up, your father and Ser Criston started to lead their horses forward. They both took off their helmets. That's when you realized what a handsome man he was. When you looked at Rhaenyra, you saw that she shared your feelings.

"My daughter supports you, Daemon. She even made a bet about it..."

Rhaenyra was on her feet.

"And my beloved niece Y/N Targaryen supports you, Ser Criston. I hope you will not betray her trust."

Viserys gestured for you to stand, and you did so immediately. You stepped forward to your uncle, mindful of the skirt of the bronze dress you wore to spite your father. You were surprised when Criston Cole pulled a crushed rose out of his armor. He held it out to you.

"I promise I will not break your trust in me... I promise."

It was the first time you had ever experienced such a moment in your life. You had seen your cousin Rhaenyra sometimes approach knights, but never you. Maybe it was because you wouldn't let them, but it had never happened. You reached out and took the rose with a smile.

"Thank you very much, Ser."

You tied your ribbon to the spear he handed you.

"And I hope this brings you luck."

Criston smiled and put his helmet back on. Your father frowned, watching your flirtation with a low-born knight.

"I'm going to get you for this, Cole.” Daemon said.

Rhaenyra tied her ribbon to her uncle's spear, just as you had done. You took your seats and began to watch the match. Both Knights took their seats and then began to ride their horses towards each other. You clenched your seat with excitement. Your Uncle Viserys put his hand on yours. You flinched and pulled your hand back.

When the horses were close together, you stood up and shouted, "Come on, Ser Criston!" Criston's spear struck your father's shield so hard that he was knocked off his horse and dragged for a while. You cheered as everyone watched in amazement and fear.

"This is nonsense!"

"It is not nonsense. He won... you lost." You said.

You heard your father shouting. You didn't understand what he was saying, but the guards had brought him his sword.

"Prince Daemon wants to continue the contest with his sword!"

Your heart was filled with fear. You didn't want Criston to suffer the fate of the previous knight. It was the first time you had seen him and the first time you had felt this way. You began to pray. Ser Criston dismounted and swung his Morningstar at Prince Daemon. Your father blocked the blow with his shield. Daemon struck the mace with his shield and drove the back of his sword into Criston's wrist.

Criston recovered his mace and slammed his shield into Daemon's helmet. Daemon staggered from the blow to his head, while Criston repeatedly slammed his mace into your father's armor. Your father Daemon fell to one knee. At this moment he thrust his sword Dark Sister into Criston's mace. The two clung to each other as the sword tangled in the mace's string. You were afraid. As much as you hated your father, the thought of anything happening to him left you empty of meaning.

Daemon shouted and threw Criston off him. Criston was as tired as Daemon, but both were determined to win.

"They're going to kill each other!"

Your Uncle Viserys chuckled. Rhaenyra ordered you to be silent. Your father, not looking at Criston lying on the ground, spread his arms and listened to the people chanting his name. Your heart was broken. Yet you didn't care about losing. You hoped Criston wasn't hurt. It was all over. Rhaenyra stood up clapping.

"I told you. Didn't I, Y/N?" Rhaenyra said.

Criston wanted to give that crown to the beautiful lady he had seen for the first time in his life, who trusted him. He wanted to crown her queen of love and beauty. With all this in mind, he brought his morningstar down on your father's back. As your father fell to the ground, he tried to reach for his sword, but Criston kicked it away. You smiled. Your father had given up. You clapped and cheered. The spectators were not upset that Prince Daemon had been defeated. Yes, they were surprised at first, but they too had accepted their new champion. Ser Criston got back on his horse and rode towards you. You didn't know what to do. Your palms were sweating with excitement. You didn't think it was normal to be so attracted to a man you were seeing for the first time.

"Lady Y/N Targaryen."

The blood dripping from the corner of his lip didn't make him look bad. He was even more handsome than before.

He placed the crown on your head with his spear. You were embarrassed but continued to smile politely.

"I crown you The Queen of Love and Beauty, you have brought me luck, your prayers have protected me like a shield."

"Thank you, Ser Criston. I am so glad you won."

You knew it was not normal for his smile to excite you so much.

"I think we have a champion and The Queen of Love and Beauty."

Otto Hightower touched your uncle on the shoulder and said something in his ear. King Viserys had left in a hurry. Everyone was looking at each other anxiously. You knew something was wrong, but you couldn't ask anyone. A few hours later you learned the truth. Queen Aemma had died in her birthing bed. At the funeral you were always by your uncle's side, just as your father was by your cousin Rhaenyra's.

"She's gone Y/N... forever." He said.

You could do nothing but hug him. The pain in the seven kingdoms did not stop with the death of Queen Aemma, about 3 days later you received the news of your mother's death. When you heard it, your legs trembled and your eyes filled with tears. You cried and cried and mourned in your room. King Viserys' interest in you grew even more when your mother died. You visited him more often now. You and him prayed together for your losses and supported each other.

You had not seen Criston for several weeks, but your cousin Princess Rhaenyra informed you that he had been taken into the Kingsguards. You hadn't lost interest in him, but your pain was still very fresh. You were desperate for attention. And of course that could not be provided by a Kingsguard who had sworn never to marry. Your cousin Rhaenyra and your father Daemon had different needs and interests. Neither of them had time for you. They never have.

Now you were in the throne room watching your father being brought in by the guards. It was shameful. He was mocking the dead prince and called him names. Your Uncle Viserys was furious when he heard it.

"Heir for a day? Did you really say that Daemon?!"

"Everyone has a different way of mourning."

"The City Guard and everyone else wants me to be your heir, Your Grace."

Your Grace... he said it with a lot of pressure. You grimaced and looked at your cousin. She was clasping her hands and looking at Daemon. It was the first time you had ever seen her so angry with him. You were glad that people were seeing your father for who he really was because you knew he was the one who killed your mother. It wasn't hard to guess. Your father was trying to get closer to the throne by marrying your cousin Rhaenyra. You would never forgive him for that.

"You want to get closer to the throne?" Viserys said.

Your father frowned. Viserys stood up and laughed. You had a bad feeling, you knew something bad was going to happen.

"I'm marrying your daughter Y/N. And I'm banishing you to Pentos."

"You can't do that!" Daemon said.

"It seems like a good deal."

You began to cry as the guards led your father out of the room. You didn't want to marry Viserys, it wasn't even the last thing on your mind. Rhaenyra left the throne room with quick steps. You ran after her, begging her to stop this.

"Y/N wait!"

You heard Viserys shouting behind you, but you didn't care. You caught sight of Rhaenyra walking towards the Godswood. She turned angrily and pushed you away from her. You grabbed your aching shoulder and looked at her in horror.

"So that was your goal, huh? To be queen. That's why you were always close to my father."

"Rhaenyra, I swear cousin. I swear that was not my goal..."

"Cousin," she laughed.

"Or should I call you stepmother? Do you think that's an excuse? You showed him you were willing. Now you will be queen and bear new heirs for my father."

"Rhaenyra. Please don't do this to me." you said.

"You asked for this, Y/N."

She left you alone in the godswood. You sat under a tree and pulled your knees to yourself and started to cry. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You were scared, hoping it wasn't your uncle. It wasn't him, thank the gods. It was Ser Criston Cole, not in his armor. He stood before you with disheveled hair and a white uniform.

"Are you hurt, my lady?"

"No... just, you know, lady things."

He sat down next to you.

"I'm sure it's not easy being a lady in the Red Keep."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Lady Y/N, if that's what you're crying about."

"It's all moving so fast, Criston. I can't catch up."

Criston was surprised that you addressed him so intimately. But he seemed to enjoy your closeness. He felt brave and touched your trembling hand. You wanted to hug him and cry. Your only hope was that your father or cousin would prevent this marriage. He tried to change the subject as if he didn't want to be hard on you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you.”

''No, on the contrary, it has been a long time since anyone has spoken to me about anything else. You know that after the death of my mother Rhea, everyone started talking about my grief, 'Y/N are you okay? It's best to forget, your mom is in a better place' bullshit. I know everyone is starting to forget her.''

''I just don't like them playing against me. So I'm enjoying your conversation."

He smiled.

"I want to do something for you, my lady. What can I do?"

You hugged him and closed your eyes. He was surprised at first, but then he put his arms around you. In another story you could have fallen in love. The brave knight and his noble lady. You could have married and had children. But your story was over before it began. Or so you thought..

When you heard his voice, you opened your eyes. You reached for his lips and began to kiss him. He could have pushed you away, but he didn't. He kissed back... and sooner than you expected. When the kiss was over, you pulled back.

"That was enough. Thank you."

When you stood up, he wanted to stop you. He wanted you to tell him everything, but he knew you couldn't.

"Good watch, Ser Criston."

You left your feelings behind and started walking towards the castle. The fact that he didn't reject you in your kiss had given you hope, but that was impossible now. There were vows between you, and soon there would be a marriage. It was best for you to bury your interest in him in your heart.

part two : coming soon!

please feel free to leave a comment! thank you for reading.

[wellthebardsdead]

Riiju-Lei: *sighs with relief up at breezehome as they approach through the still quiet early morning streets of whiterun* Home at last…

Nerevar: I passed by this place so many times when I first arrived here and I had no clue you were just behind these doors…

Riiju-Lei: that explains the random bouts of excitement I had then. I played a lot of tag with the kids those days. Speaking of which, I hope Caryalind handled looking after everyone okay- *opens the door to find Lydia cleaning up the mess the kids had made of the house, Khash quietly helping her and Caryalind passed out from exhaustion by the fireplace* oh dear.

Lydia: *looks up* oh my thane!

Khash: DAD!!! *drops the broom and runs to Riiju jumping up into his arms*

Riiju-Lei: *laughs and hugs her tight* Hello little shadowscale!

Caryalind: *jumps and flails out of his chair with a thud* Ugh! Hnuh?? *looks up to see the group entering* You’re back! It went well I take it??

Riiju-Lei: *smiles* better then just well. *sets Khash down gently* Everything… here? Go well?

Caryalind: *still on the floor* Oh yes, just fine, the kids were delightful…

Riiju-Lei: *quirks his brow*

Caryalind: …Alesan put lizards in my underwear, Blaise got caught shoplifting, Sofie kept bringing wild animals into the house and Lucia broke her hand punching Braith in the face… Khash was the only well behaved one.

Riiju-Lei: *sighs* thank you cary, go have a proper rest I’ll get our new friends settled in and make us all breakfast.

Caryalind: new fri- *spots nerevar then goes visibly pink as Miraak suddenly steps over him offering his hand* I-

Miraak: Let me help you up.

Caryalind: oh my you have a very deep voice- *shakily takes his hand and instantly gets pulled to his feet*

Taliesin: *brow twitching feeling protective of his prince* …

Kaidan: *gives his ass a squeeze* oi. Leave him be.

Riiju-Lei: *snickers taking nerevars hand and leading him upstairs as everyone else starts to unpack and relax* I’ll come help you clean up in a minute Lydia, thank you.

Lydia: *smiles at him and nerevar as they go by* thank you my thane.

Nerevar: *follows Riiju upstairs and into the master bedroom* it’s a lovely house you have here, your daughter is adorable too but… her tail- sh- she wasn’t hurt was she?

Riiju-Lei: hm? Oh Khash. No she just wasn’t born with one. She’s small but she’s the oldest of my kids. The others must all be still asleep. Usually she comes along on adventures, she’s an excellent fighter but… given miraak sent cultists after me and they targeted my family specifically… I didn’t feel safe bringing her along. *chuckles* funny how he’s now downstairs wooing the prince of the aldmeri dominion.

Nerevar: *brain short circuiting* I’m sorry he’s the what now?

Riiju-Lei: oh right, there’s a lot you need to catch up on. I’m sure we’ll discuss it over breakfast but let’s get you unpacked first yes? *smiles at him before dropping his pack on the bed to empty it*

Nerevar: … *smiles and gently embraces him from behind, resting his head against his shoulder* you’ve built a beautiful life here LeiLei… you found so many people who love you and a place where you can feel safe.

Riiju-Lei: *gently reaches back running his fingers through his soft white hair* and now I can finally feel that love thanks to you making me whole again… my moon and star…

Nerevar: *slides his hands up his torso beginning to playfully tug at and undo the straps of his armour* there was a place within my heart empty for too long when I was without you… im glad we’re finally together again… My Voryn…

Riiju-Lei: …I think we can wait a few minutes for breakfast don’t you?

*meanwhile downstairs*

Sero: They’re certainly taking a while up thei-

A wine bottle on the kitchen table: 🍾

Kaidan: and they’re fucking.

Taliesin: *sighs* I’ll get breakfast started.

[little-peril-stories]

My Most Common Tropes

I was tagged by @i-can-even-burn-salad in this post. (....in August, lol.) Thanks, Elli!

Rules: Look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. What are five to ten narrative elements or tropes that continuously pop up in your work?

OPEN TAG

My most common tropes and narrative elements are....

Angst

Girl Power

Violence & Power Dynamics

(Sad) Family Stuff

Slow Burn

Classic Big Bad Villains

And because I'm me, find four billion examples below the read more. :)

✨ Angst

What more can I say? I love it when my characters are sad. And hurting. And feeling hopeless. And helpless.

No matter what I do, I can’t move. I can’t get to her. I’m helpless. I’m useless. Maybe that’s all I’ve ever been—failing Jamie, failing IA, and now I’m going to fail Bree, too. - TPOT

What difference did it make? He would take her home, and she’d be his pretty possession once again, and every choice she’d made to escape the fate she’d so foolishly chosen for herself four years before would mean absolutely nothing. - TQOL

Yes, the thief thought, he was lucky. Lucky to have had Bree—who didn’t even know him—and her gentle hands on his skin, taking care of him for reasons he didn’t know or understand, doing something for him when he could never, ever pay her back. [...] Lucky that she was real, and that she had been there. Lucky, most of all, that she was gone, and that he would never see her again, because if he did, he’d have to face all over this alien, unwelcome pain of farewell. - TQOL

Being dead and suffering through some kind of purgatory was the least palatable option he’d come up with, yet the scholar half-hoped it was true. If he had died, the hell he was living through now was the false reality. It would eventually crumble into oblivion, blown away on the wind with his ashes, or buried in the ground with his decomposing corpse. - Man of Letters

✨ Girl Power

Action Girl / Plucky Girl / Determinator

Pour one out for my girls Bree, Colette, Alice, Fen, Ivy, Bridget, Nalia, Oriana, Ker, and Balain. Even when they're fucking up, which they do a lot, they're making it through and, in some cases, saving the day. Girls rule, boys drool. (shhh I'm just kidding)

Those same fears come back, renewed and armed with sharper, more vicious teeth than before. But so, too, does that promise. And even though the wind is just as cold as it was that night, and even though what I am leaving behind is infinitely more precious than what I abandoned four years ago, the taste of freedom on the wind is just as sweet. - TPOT

“Put the princess in a pair of pants and watch what happens.”- TQOL

“I chased a fucking wagon across this goddamn city. And then I chased a carriage across it again. I nearly got trampled twice. Do not fucking start with me.” - TQOL

They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into when they decided to kidnap me. I hope I get the chance to make them regret it. - TCOR

“I may be dying,” she said, her voice trembling with fury, “but I’m not dead. And I’m not going to lie around waiting to die, either.” - Book 1

✨ Violence & Power Dynamics

Violence is the Only Option / Jack Bauer Interrogation Technique / No-Holds-Barred Beatdown / Restraints / I Will Punish Your Friend For Your Failure / Defiant Captive

No respite—the rope grew tight again, accompanied now by Baden Hatchett’s hand on his chin. “Tried to take what wasn’t yours, and when she was rightfully repulsed by you, you thought you’d get to me another way instead?” - TQOL

I can’t suppress the cry that escapes as he twists and presses his fingertips against the wound. - TPOT

“Answer me,” the prince said softly, tightening his grip just enough that the scholar’s jaw began to ache. - Man of Letters

“Try to run away and I’ll let him drown your friend,” she said, digging her fingers into Nalia’s arm. - Book 1

✨ Family Stuff

Annoying Younger Sibling / Disappointing Older Sibling / Dead Parents / Abusive Parents

When Will kept bouncing, seeming not to hear their mother’s question, Jamie picked up one of his brother’s abandoned socks from the floor, crushed it into a ball, and hurled it at his head. - TPOT

“No one says anything. No one. Even you. You got arrested and you never fucking told me and he had that old record and that’s how he knew your name, and I can’t believe you never said anything, for fuck’s sake, and that happened when Ma was still alive—” - TPOT

The entire time I was in jail, truly believing and even hoping that my brother had skipped town and saved himself and left me to die, I never wanted to hurt him as much as I do right now. - TCOR

A knife under the ribs. It was Bridget’s fault. “I didn’t—I should’ve—I know I waited too long to go to the feds. I’m going to regret it forever, you know.” - Fen and Freddie

“Keeping me here to suffer more because your mother died on you, that’s not fair.” I know these words will hurt her. I don’t care. “I watched my ma die, too.” - TPOT

“My mother…she used to. She lives in the country now.” A distant look came into his eyes. “My dad’s dead. Of the fever. When it came here.” - Book 1

The soft words of her mother often came to her in such moments—the gentle but fragmented counsel that had helped Cecilia Cooper through her own marriage to Silas Cooper, a bitter man prone to temper and partial to drink. Stay with me, my love, she had whispered so often, and I will keep you safe. A mostly empty promise, untrue but well-meant; Breanna had known even then that her mother had tried her best. Let’s practice some sums, she would sometimes say, smoothing away her daughter’s tear-damp locks, watching the door with a frantic eye in case the handle began to turn. - TQOL

✨ Slow Burn

Make them go through a billion and a half awkward moments and almosts before they kiss!

Almost Kiss / Rescue Romance / Sleep Cute

I bet that hair practically glows red when the sun hits it just right. Especially in the light of sunset, when the sky turns to pink and orange flame. - TPOT

Dawn, of course, does not reach us inside our cell. Its rays can’t drift inside and wake us gently, can’t illuminate our fingers that remained entwined through the night; perhaps it is some innate, natural understanding that it’s almost time to rise that makes my eyes flutter open. A pair of hazel ones stares back. - TPOT

Are we closer than we were a minute ago? Can I better see the flutter of her eyelashes, glittering with tears, as she looks up at me, her cheeks pale, her lips parted to let every frightened breath pass, her hair brushing against her skin in perfect disarray? - TPOT

This was different: lovely, potent, thrilling. Like silken threads woven with bronze, like some entity of creation had crafted this man from warm earth and molten metal. - TQOL

This gaze burned like sunshine—like spring, like warmth on meadow grasses, like the glint of golden light off a pond. It burned, and it didn’t waver, and she knew where he was looking when he shifted a strand of damp hair away from her neck. - TQOL

He fixed her with that annoyingly penetrating gaze, like she was a book he wanted to read. - Book 1

✨ Big-Bad Style Villains

Big Bad / Lack of Empathy / Blaming "The Man" / The Chessmaster / Implacable Man / Evil Gloating

“Mouth off to her again,” he said softly, “and I’m going to make you very sorry.” - Book 1

“Oops,” Brockhurst said. “That might have broken a rib. Or several.” - Fen and Freddie

“Look at you. You’re no hero,” Hatchett says. My eyes fly open again. “A thief is all you are—a terrible one at that. Iustitia aecum, indeed.” He bares his teeth. “You and the others, you wear your guise of honour. Still, you are nothing more than lowlife, thieving criminals. Her, just as much as you.” He scoffs. “She says you saved her, once upon a time. Today, you will not.” - TPOT

“I most certainly am not mistaken,” says Jean Regent. “I did hope we could be civil from the start, but if you continue to be evasive and spout pointless lies, then I am afraid I shall have to resort to more barbaric measures rather quickly.” - TCOR

“Remember this, will you?” Regent lifts the poker from the hearth. “Remember that I could have ended your sorry life and chose not to. Remember that I showed you mercy. And remember…” His smile widens to a grotesque, gaping grin. “Remember that if you anger me again, the girl pays the price.” - TCOR

OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO FUN THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME IN THIS AHH

[laurelsofhighever]

WIP Thursday

theI got tagged by @effelants and by @serenpedac over on my main. I’ve been so behind with writing, but I actually managed to get something down this week!

From my prince Alistair AU, As the World falls Down:

The late hour hung heavy as velvet in the hall of the Arl of Redcliffe’s estate. Aside from the faint creak of settling timbers, nothing stirred, the hush deepened by the will of the servants to not disturb the arlessa or the new baby. It was a colicky, sickly thing that did not sleep, and even in the few short months since the birth it had become a source of bad luck to be the one to wake it – and not just because the offender would then feel the lash of Isolde’s displeasure.

Alistair should not have even been in the house. Every small noise had him jumping as he crept along the walls, expecting a heavy hand to fall on his shoulder and throw him bodily out into the cold of the stables, perhaps with a beating for good measure. It was as if Isolde was worried he might try to smother the infant, or that somehow the mere sight of him would ensorcel Eamon to throw her off like something out of a terrible fairy tale. Her near-paranoia had trickled down among the rest of the household to the point where even those who had once tolerated him patiently enough now pursed their lips when he entered a room. He wouldn’t have dared sneak into the house at all, not after the cook had whipped his hands for sharing food with the alienage children, but as he lay shivering in his small cot above the kennels he had been roused by a clattering of hooves in the yard. The two men who had dismounted had worn their hoods low over their faces, and did not reveal themselves even after Eamon himself had come down the steps to greet them in place of a servant.

Tagging you both back, plus (if you feel like it) @cleverblackcat @ellenembee @lavalampelfchild and @agentnatesewell

[brascu]

I saw some people online rooting for next season of Umbrella Academy to focus on Klaus and bring Dave back. (spoilerspoilerspoilers)

And like, we all know Klaus loves Dave quite a lot! I am in no way saying he doesn’t

but the universe was reset. Klaus never went to Vietnam in this new timeline. Dave’s ghost (did he die this time in Vietnam? Did he die from old age? Did he die at all? Who knows?) has no ideia who is this guy! Even if Klaus went after him in the void, he would be like ?????? what?

And Klaus knows it.

Because even in the dallas timeline, he and Dave did not fall in love in Vietnam. Dave went to war earlier, Dave probably died before 1968. And future Klaus, in this timeline, never went back to find him. And maybe Dave waited for him in Vietnam, because he said he would be there. But he never were. They never fell in love after the first timeline.

And Klaus knows it.

That’s why we see him in new 2019 holding desperately to his dog tags. They are only memories. Klaus is a really smart fellow (I personally hate when people act like he is not.) and we can see in his face, when Dave tells him he already enlisted, that he knows he fucked up things, he changed the timeline, he changed theis future. He understands, just like Allison, that he lost everything that he had. 

He lost his best friend of all his life forever. He lost the possibility to ever meet Dave, for his Dave who met him in Vietnam and loved him never existed in this timeline, just as much as he knows sparrow Ben is not Ben.

Klaus is sober thoughout season 3 and we don’t see him trying to reach Dave because he knows that. He knows that his first timeline is over. There’s nothing even he, the prince of darkness, can do. Ben’s not Ben. Dave’s not Dave.

Now about what I think is more plausible of happening next season with him, If we are right about the whole s4 in Klaus’ season.

I believe the main reason he went after Luther was so he had something to feel useful about. He just lost one more thing: his powers, the void. Klaus’ been loosing everything he had season after season, scoup after scoup. His personality, the things he held on to not fall while spinning. So trying to be there for Luther after his first revival is Klaus holding on to what’s left of his connetion to death itself.

So maybe we will see him really trying to help Luther find Sloane, so he can feel useful after having nothing more to remind him he is Klaus.

But we know this show, and he wont probably be with Luther forever. And maybe Ben, who is just as lost as he is and even more alone, will end up helping Luther as well. Maybe he will be looking for Sloane on hiw own. Maybe he will be trying to find all his siblings. 

I don’t personally think that the ones who were kugelblitzed will be back in the show. I think they exist, but around where they were born, not close to Reginald in any way. Maybe the reason is the same of why Sloane is not with them: Allison’s deal with Reggie was probably about her siblings being safe, so he saved the umbrellas. And Ben, as I said in another post about s3, is one of them.

In anyway, I think at some point we will find Klaus and Ben together. For years on end, Ben was the only thing keeping Klaus somewhat connected to his powers, to sanity, to himself. Ben has no one, just like dead Ben did while Klaus was his only conection to the world. And we already saw how Klaus was the only one able to connect with sparrow!Ben.

We know from the introduction that Ben is a party guy. We know Klaus tends to fall back to drinking when he’s desperate. We know Luther gets high when heartbroken. I pretty much believe those three will find eachother by simply being out of it.

If the writers are not scaredy cats, I believe we’ll have canon horrance. Why? They’re both alone, queer and trying to cope with all that was taken from them. Both of them, we know, have this longing for belonging. And since I’m a sucker for soulmates shit, I firmly believe any version of them would end up getting super close and loving/hating each other. And they are so needy and so alone. 

And even if the wedding scene was just queerbait, even if they don’t get together romantically, I believe new Ben will be fundamental for Klaus’ next season, if not his trigger to spiraling.

Maybe Ben needs help and go after Klaus, who lost his hope in people after what Reggie did to him. Maybe Klaus don’t trust him because of how he acted after the wedding. Or maybe Klaus is going to help him how he can, because he feels that by helping this Ben he may be somehow giving back to his brother that I firmly believe he misses with all his heart.

Or even worst. Klaus is unable to help Luther finding Sloane. They separate. Klaus ends up being completely alone. Maybe he decides to not let anyone in. Maybe he will fall back in his addiction. And maybe when he is high as a skunk, he thinks sparrow!Ben is his Ben and we will see this man vulnerable as never before.

I know Klaus is important to Reginald’s plan. I know Ben is there because of his inter-timeline complex relationship with the Umbrellas. I know Klaus and Ben are already important to each other.

And what about the credit scene? What do you think about it, Brascu? I have no idea.

Maybe sparrow Ben freaks out and starts remembering his last life and ends up being a whole mix of Bens.

Maybe we now have two living Bens. I would fucking love to see everyone freaking out because of this, specially Klaus. And I miss Paradox Psychosis, so now imagine it with tentacles.

Maybe now that sparrow!Ben don’t need to show off, he will go to Korea, trying to find who he is, Maybe he finally hat space to breathe and become the nerd he’s supposed to be.

What I know for sure about next season is: Ben is gonna be important as fuck. It doesn’t matter what happens, Ben and Klaus are going to interact a lot. Klaus has no way of contacting nor reason to try to know about Dave, who he never met this time.

I feel like we will get into interdimensional shit. And I’m rooting for it and to see my baby beloved Klaus absolutely miserable, dealing with it.

[herprincenamjoon]

Chapter 9

Her Prince ✏️Prince Namjoon x OC ✏️ Romance ⚠️ Warning Fic includes: Fighting (sword and physical), blood, kidnapping, injury fighting additional warnings in tags⚠️

<<Previous Chapter

"These turned out pretty good," Yeona's Uncle said as he helped her bring the seven swords out of the office.

"Of course they did. We made them." A smile was on her face as she looked at all seven of them lying on the counter.

"Are you sure they are coming by today?" He placed a small stool by her chair for her to rest her ankle.

"Yes, I told Namjoon yesterday while he helped me to the doctors that they were done, and he said they'd be by this afternoon." Yeona adjusted herself on the chair and placed her foot on the stool. "Uncle, do you know a man named Seong KangDae?"

"No, why do you ask?" He stopped in the doorway to the shop area.

"Namjoon was asking about him. Before he left, his mother gave him a note to give to KangDae." Her Uncle's heart skipped a beat. 

So his suspicion about Namjoon was correct.  When he had first seen Namjoon, he had a feeling that he was related to the King somehow. He looked just like Gyeongsun did at his age. But his eyes. He knew those eyes. His mother had those eyes, and so did his sister.

KangDae was thirteen when his older sister Seondeok met and fell in love with the then prince. He had shown up in their village of Emelle and stole the hearts of all the women. But only one of them stole his, and that was Seondeok. Then the prince disappeared one day, his sister was heartbroken. He didn't even say goodbye. A year later, KangDae and his sister were helping their mother in her garden when they heard a lot of commotion. Making their way towards their house were several royal guards on horseback, and in the middle of them was the prince.

Their mother poured them some tea as he explained why he had left and that he had come back in hopes that Seondeok would become his wife. Five years later, when their mother died, he had left Emelle and traveled to Yia in hopes of seeing his sister because she was the only family he had left. But he wasn't allowed inside the palace walls to see her. So he packed up what he could and ended up here in Hwen and was taken in by the training ground owner and his family. If his sister had found him and sent a letter for him with Namjoon, that meant that she needed him.

"Are you ok, Uncle?" The sound of Yeona's voice brought him back. "You look worried."

"I'm fine, Yeo. Just going over orders in my head," he smiled at her. Both of their heads turned towards the sound of the door opening.

"Good afternoon," Yoongi said when he stepped through the doorway.

"Where are the rest of the guys?" KangDae asked, shaking his hand.

"They are behind me," Yoongi replied before heading towards the counter. Slowly the rest of the seven men made their way into the shop. Each said hello and shook his hand before going to the counter.

"Why don't you gentlemen come to see me before you leave. I'll teach you to clean and sharpen your swords properly." KangDae said low enough for only Namjoon to say as he shook his hand.

"It's okay, sir. We know how to do all that." Namjoon smiled.

"Trust me. You and your guards will want to speak with me." Namjoon's smile dropped at his words. "You look just like the king did at your age. But your eyes are just like my sister’s," he said before turning around and heading towards his shop.

"What was that about?" Seokjin whispered to Namjoon.

"I think she accidentally found KangDae." Namjoon looked towards the counter where Yeona was talking with the rest of the men.

"How's your ankle, Noona?" Jimin asked, leaning over the counter.

"It hurts. But doing good." She wiggled her toes to show him that it was fine, "It took me a little longer to get to work this morning. Thankfully Kaira's father saw me and had one of his men help me. Uncle has told me that I need to leave work early today so that I don't get trampled on," Yeona's smile dropped when she saw the look of concern on their faces.

"One of us will walk you to and from work until you're healed." The rest of the men nodded in agreement with what Hoseok said.

"You guys don't have to. I'll be fine," she tried reassuring them.

"It's my fault it happened. So we will take care of you," Yeona opened her mouth to say something and then immediately closed it. Namjoon had his jaw clenched, and even after only knowing him a short time, she knew that it meant he was in a serious mood and wasn't up for argument.

"Shall we look at your swords?" Yeona removed the fabric that her Uncle had placed on top of them and watched their reactions. A smile spread across her face as each man said their excitement about how good they looked.

"Which sword belongs to who" Taehyung asked without taking his eyes off of them.

Yeona smiled as she handed the men their swords one by one. The first sword went to Taehyung. At the end of his case were snowflakes, and the cord was a mixture of white and blues. "Taehyung, pristine, fresh, and luminescent like freshly fallen snow." 

The second sword went to Hoseok. At the end of his case were flowers, and the cord was a mixture of reds, oranges, and greens. "Hoseok, captivating, exquisite, and dazzling. Just like flowers in a field" 

The third sword went to Jimin. At the end of his case was an island, and the cord was a mixture of blues and tans. "Jimin, tempestuous, majestic, and mysterious. Just like the ocean."

The fourth sword went to Jungkook. At the end of the case were animals, and the cord, a mixture of every color she had. "Jungkook, fierce, willful and quick. Just like an animal." 

The fifth sword went to Seokjin. At the bottom of the case were mountains, and the cord, a mixture of browns, whites, and greens, "Seokjin, bold, breathtaking and towering. Just like the mountains that surround us." 

The sixth sword went to Yoongi. At the bottom of the case was a sun and a moon, the cords a mixture of silver, black, blue, and white. "Yoongi, calm, intense, and indescribable. Just like the sky." 

The seventh and final sword went to Namjoon. At the bottom of the case were trees, and the cord had a mixture of browns and greens. "Namjoon, majestic, indestructible, and dignified. Just like the woods you love to walk in."

Each man gave her a bow and said thank you when they received their swords. She watched as they examined them and was relieved to see that they were all happy with their unique swords.

"How did you come up with the idea?" Yoongi asked.

"My dad had used a similar design before he died. And after watching you and being around you, I figured you'd like these," Yeona shrugged her shoulders.

"We love them, Noona," Jungkook said with a bright smile. "Thank you so much."

Next Chapter>>

[grezzirossi]

Quick sketch ‘cause im shipping them like air 

[poorks]

Character List

(click on the names, they’re tag links) (that might work)

Shes

Lotte (physically) 25 yo she/her pansexual Mother of four, human wife to a vampire, surrogate for supernatural monsters and creatures, immortal at ~2000 years old.

Claire 30 yo she/her bisexual Married mother of triplets. Works in an office building and continues to be a surrogate after her children are born.

Vivi  ?? yo she/her asexual/aromantic Evil creature who tortures humans for fun, primarily through sexual torture and humiliation. Has been pregnant for multiple centuries with an unknown due date. 

Victoire ~early 20s she/they omnisexual/aromantic Daughter of Lotte, magical user with a magic source connecting her to the Earth directly, impregnating her with whatever it demands.

Winnie 27 yo she/her lesbian Pokemon breeder who became a human gacha machine with an endless suply of Pokemon eggs to birth. The type of egg is always random.

Missy 29 yo she/her trans lesbian Pokemon breeder inhabited by a Ditto in her womb. Lays eggs with high shiny odds.

Aurora 20 yo she/her demisexual/romantic A witch’s apprentice who accidentally knocked over and broke a crystal ball. The spirits inside retreated into her belly, turning her into the new crystal ball.

Saki 31 yo she/her lesbian* Hisuian Typhlosion gijinka. Has a “phantom pregnancy” with a belly inhabited by spirits on their way to the afterlife. When a spirit passes on, she gives birth to it.

Lemon 29 yo she/her straight* Shark girl living on the surface as a surrogate for marine researchers. On her own time she’s an influencer and cam girl.

Zero ??? yo she/her omnisexual A hermaphroditic tentacle alien sent to Earth to breed as much as possible.

Ife 24 yo she/her pan A magical girl with powers granted by a cosmic patron. Every time she uses her magic powers, her belly grows slightly bigger with her patron’s eggs.

Suyin 25 yo she/her trans pan Ife’s counterpart and antagonist, taken in by the opposing cosmic deity. Constantly full with monsters to birth and fight Ife. Never leaves her apartment, antagonizing Ife personally through online messages.

Yvette 27 yo she/her straight A princess who takes pride in her perfection is cursed with endless fertility. She despises her bountiful body but at the same time cannot physically stand to not be pregnant.

Manju 22 yo she/her omnisexual Naturally attracts monsters for breeding due to her lineage, and quite enjoys it.

Gummy She’s slime.

Hes

Lorenzo 18-21 yo he/him gay A young college student is eager to explore their sexual side and ends up pregnant, then learns they enjoy being pregnant, then begins a living as a surrogate while going through school.

Takeshi 33 yo he/him straight* A tired and grumpy punk-turned-office worker that often takes his frustrations out on women. Sometimes he gets unlucky and pisses off the wrong woman...

Sylvain mid-20s he/him gay Son of Lotte. Confident and promiscuous, he spends his youth on the prowl for other man to treat him like the prince he is.

Hasan 30 yo he/him gay Meowscarada gijinka. Magician, trickster, and con man. Partner and experiment subject to Avery.

Avery 27 yo he/him trans gay Delphox gijinka. Wizard and alchemist, partner to Hasan. Obsessed with studying semen and breeding, alchemist to the rich, and very sexually open with any willing. Very proud of the accomplishment of impregnating Hasan, a cisgender man.

Sem 30 yo he/him gay Altaria gijinka. Model who is carrying a brood of alien larvae over the course of a multi-year pregnancy.

Mao ??? yo he/they omnisexual Demon king and shapeshifter, gets pregnant for fun.

Guy 21 yo he/him straight Manju’s normal boyfriend who accidentally gets into the crossfire of her monsterfucking escapades on occasion.

Plum 23 yo he/him bisexual A wizard-in-training with a high libido and a propensity for getting into situations that leave him more pregnant than he could ever be prepared for.

Theys

Manu 27 yo they/them The unwilling nest of Gummy the slime, permanently hosting her in their belly.

Polly 23 yo she/they/it pan/ace The star clown of an erotic circus. A joyful and bubbly soul that loves pleasure and fun more than anything else in the world.

[lavienjin]

🌷 author's secrets: a tag game

rules ; post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released this year (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

note: also let me start by saying that i'm very proud of all the fics that are in my masterlist. i know i done good :) and these fics are not listed in any particular order (except maybe cruise control. that's my baby right there). finally, all these fics i'm listing ARE 18+. also this is long. because i have a lot to say. i'm a bit of a mouthy bitch

tagged by: @taegularities @parkdatjimin @amourtae & @mintkims ♥

tagging: @bratkook @sourkoo @lavienvante @wwilloww @madseok @vyduan @reliablemitten @illneverrecover @augustbutwinter @jikookiekosmos @dntaewithluv @sunshinerainbowsbts @chemicalpink @chateautae @sugasbabiie @kookskingdom @jimilter @knjsnoona @joonscypher @agustdealer @minyfic @rosiekoo @jeonjcngkook @kimtaehyunq @yeoldontknow ++ anyone else that wants to do it.

— 5 works i'm most proud of:

cruise control - this one hands down. it's so fucking hard to write a fic based on a time period and the amount of research i did on this guy was enough for me to write 13k words of it lmao. definitely the most challenging fic for me, but also one of my favourites. can you just imagine driving down a stretch of highway, the top of the convertible car you rented open, hair flowing with the wind, and with namjoon by your side? yeah. that's the inspo

esse tuus - two words: incubus jimin. but also i played around with my writing style for this fic. it's so much more? poetic? than my usual smut pieces. also, one of my absolutely favourite lines i've ever written exists here.

et sic incipit - i have a thing for demon aus, can you tell? anyway, this one started it all for me and is the reason why i'm doing a intertwined universe with the other five remaining boys. it's also the fic where i started describing places more since this fic takes place in multiple (2) settings. also the time when i started paying attention to where the hands go when it comes to yknow. fucking.

it's you all along - i've never wrote a soulmates au before and i think i popped off ngl!!!! i probably would love to write another soulmates au one day (not starring these two necessarily). if i had to present my writing to someone, i think i'd be handing them this fic because it's just quintessential moon™

thinly veiled desires - sub!ot7 :) my first major "challenge" to fit smut in as little words as possible while having one major theme: a blindfold. it was definitely a challenge for me when it comes to wrecking my brain for ideas that involves a blindfold without repeating the same thing over and over again. you can't make me choose a favourite from this drabble list. it's SIMPLY impossible.

— 4 current WIPs that you're excited to share:

note: idk when i'm going to post these and the title + story is subject to change but i made some pretty banners and it'd be a shame for me not to use them >:C

diss tract - sope x reader | smut :)

guess who? - ot7 x reader | smut :)

summary: You're the most sought-after entertainer in the House of Lust, but that doesn't mean your management should let seven men stroll in for a session, no matter how much money they have saved up.

hybrid jin idk what the fuck to call this one tbh the curse that binds us together - ksj x reader | angst :( royalty, hybrid, fantasy au | series!

summary: If the Gods played favourites, they gave all the luck in the world to Seokjin. Not only was he blessed with an abundance of wealth and a handsome face, Seokjin was also the newly appointed Crown Prince who will someday rule the kingdom. But that all changes when the physicians find that he’s developing symptoms for a rare genetic disease that traps shifters in their beast forms forever. All of a sudden, Seokjin must travel to find the seemingly impossible cure, and leave the throne without a king. It’s a race against time; will the illness catch up to him and leave him without an ounce of humanity? And even if he does miraculously return, will the kingdom welcome him with open arms?

love ain't a business - jjk x reader

technically, she's out right now, but i am writing the rest of the series as we speak so i can start posting more regularly soooooo :D

3 improvements in writing

descriptions, descriptions, descriptions - expanding more on what the characters see, feel, touch, etc. is a big one for me. but also thanks to @kithtaehyung, i know have a love for thirds when it comes to repetition in fics :) it's great! (also check out her works or else)

author voice - she's often elusive, but i think i have a pretty solid author voice ++ writing style now that i've written so much!

planning - i think this is a massive one. ever since i started cruise control, i really tried to piece together how the story unfolds. i don't always write down every. single. thing i plan out, but i do have a clearer outline in my fics (i feel like you can also see, err, read the difference between my recent fics vs the ones i posted in the very beginning when i first started this blog pen pals with benefits for example 😔)

2 resolutions

say 'no' more often - i gotta learn to manage my workload yall. now that i do streaming, learning korean, work full-time, writing has to take a back burner. i'm by no means sacrificing my writing, but if i keep on saying 'yes' to collabs without planning my year out, i won't be able to write anything.

keep writing - even if it's 5 words or 1,000; i gotta keep going. kinda ties in to self-confidence? i need to be better at going 'holy shit yeah, moon, you can write' because i think you can tell when i feel the fantasy of a fic or if i don't

1 favourite line

okay first of all, how dare you, because i wrote an entire masterlist's worth of fics. that's 38 individual works (not counting the msk drabbles + all the work i put into the summer games with @btscreatorscorner), which totals to 204,596 words (according to ao3) in ~9 months. to make me choose just ONE line is criminal >:C

but...

No, because should the sun ever die and total darkness swallows the earth, you’ll still be able to recognize that face in the sea of shadows.

-- love ain't a business (1)

aaaaaand. that's it. thanks so much for reading through this, what the fuck. seriously, this was such a fun introspective journey down memory lane. i'm not 10000% satisfied with where my writing is at currently (aren't most authors?) but i'm sure that will only be better as i continue to develop my craft. i would love to read through this again next year to see if something's have changed! without further ado, have a great start to 2022 🥂

[ao3feed-sidlink]

folklore

by shatteredmeat

PLEASE REVIEW THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING!!!!!!!!!

This is a literal fever dream inspired by Folklore lol. This one goes out to the girls, gays and theys

Words: 2046, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M

Characters: Link (Legend of Zelda), Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Prince Sidon, Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Revali (Legend of Zelda), Daruk (Legend of Zelda), Urbosa (Legend of Zelda), Riju (Legend of Zelda), Yunobo (Legend of Zelda), Teba (Legend of Zelda), King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, Zelda's Mother (Legend of Zelda), Link's Father (Legend of Zelda), Link's Mother (Legend of Zelda), Majora (Legend of Zelda)

Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, but there's pining, clueless Shark man, Mutual Pining, Post-Breath of the Wild, Post-Majora's Mask, Post-Ocarina of Time, Depressed Link (Legend of Zelda), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, References to Depression, Mental Anguish, Denial of Feelings, basically there's an angsty elf boy and a clueless shark man, and this elaborates on their silly little lives, link's mom is the worst, and so is King Rhoam I've always hated him, Post-Calamity Ganon, zelda is tired and she's had enough, Zora's Domain, Zora Culture, Zora Courting, Gerudo Outfit

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38153209

[sometimesiwriteangst]

Soul Mates Are Forever - 1

Summary: Emile gets odd messages, and his boyfriend and brother get concerned quickly, for good reason,

Note: Deceit is called Desmond in this fic. Yes, for once he has a normal name in a human au of partially mine!

Chapter TW: Kidnapping, stalking, u!Virgil, u!Patton.

AO3 Link

Written with @scenecipriano!

Tag List: @samuel-the-gay @alik-gl

-Present Day-

    Emile was getting fed up with the odd messages. Every time he blocked a number, they returned with a new number. They weren’t threatening, or anything that made him believe he should go to the police. Just sporadic “hi”, “why aren’t you replying”, “are you there?”

    Probably a wrong number. Or some guy who was given a fake number. At first Emile had tried telling him this, but over the last couple of weeks he’d given up. If he just kept blocking and ignoring, surely they’d get the message?

    He sighs as he turns his phone off, silencing the constant dinging that came from the unwanted messages. Emile glances in the full body mirror and runs his fingers through his pink fringe, a nervous tic he developed when he was a teenager. 

    “Emi! Your breakfast is getting cold, stop worrying and get down here!” His boyfriend calls from down in the kitchen. 

    “I’m coming, Roman!” 

    Emile looks into the mirror once more and gives his reflection a reassuring smile, ‘Everything was going to be okay.’ 

    The smell of coffee and eggs fills Emile’s nose when he steps into the kitchen, he chuckles when he sees his boyfriend swaying to the melody of a Disney song that was playing from his phone’s speaker. Emile sneaks up behind the distracted redhead and places his arms around Roman’s waist, earning a squeak from the taller man. 

    “You’re the cutest you know that?” 

    “I do! I actually hold the world title of being the cutest man alive, now you need to sit and eat. You’re not going to work on an empty stomach.” Roman replies as he presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Emile’s mouth. 

    Emile chuckles as he sits down at the table, taking a sip of his coffee as he does. “What would I do without you, Ro?” 

    “Starve, considering you can’t cook.” 

    The young therapist in training rolls his eyes as he scoops a bite of eggs into his mouth. 

    “Wrong, Dee would feed me plenty.” 

    “Until the two of you get into an argument, then you’d have to rely on fast food.” Roman teases as he sits next to Emile with his own plate of food. 

    Emile sticks his tongue out and drinks more of his coffee before shoveling the rest of his eggs into his mouth. He quickly chews and wipes his mouth with a napkin before pressing a kiss to Roman’s cheek. 

    “Speaking of arguments, I’m going to have to take the bus this morning. Apparently calling him a ‘reckless’ driver was insulting.” 

    “Desmond Wickham a reckless driver? Please, going eighty through a residential is his default setting, it’s only reckless if he goes ninety!” Sarcasm drips from Roman’s mouth as he bites into a piece of buttered toast. 

    Emile snorts in amusement and shakes his head, “Of course, but I better go. I’ll text you before I go in.” 

    Roman quickly snatches his boyfriend by the waist, causing Emile to bend down slightly allowing Roman to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

    “Be careful, my precious rose, I love you.” 

    “I love you too, prince charming.” 

    Emile adores the way Roman still blushes at the nickname. They’d been dating since High School, with only a short break at college before Emile missed Roman too much and begged for a long distance relationship. And yet the man still got flustered over the nicknames Emile found for him.

    In a way, it was ridiculous, and Emile’s brother would happily say that until the cows came home. But Emile knew Desmond liked Roman really, and more than anything it was sweet. It reminded him of when they first started dating, and everything was new and experimental.

    It was hard not to adore the reminder of how Roman would blush every time they held hands, or squeak at every chaste kiss. They may have grown and become more mature about those things, but the small flusteredness over nicknames remained a soft spot.

    “How did I get so lucky?” Emile asks. 

    Roman’s blush deepens as he buries his face against Emile’s side, causing the pink haired boy to laugh. 

    “You’re such a sap, Emi! Get out of here before I decide to keep you to myself for the day.” 

    Emile chuckles and presses a kiss to Roman’s fiery red hair before stepping out of his boyfriend’s relaxed hold. 

    “I’ll be home around eight-thirty, want me to pick up some pizza for dinner?” 

    Roman waves his hand and gently shoos Emile away. 

    “I don’t mind cooking, besides I want to be better than Des at it one day, so I need the practice now go my precious rose.” 

    Emile steals another kiss before rushing to put his shoes and coat on, “I love you, prince charming!” 

    A satisfied smile comes to his face when Roman lets out a flustered squeak, he leaves with a high pitched ‘I love you too’ following him. Emile hums softly to himself as he strolls towards the bus stop, he would try calling Desmond around lunchtime and make amends. 

    “I should really think about getting my license…” 

    Emile huffs as he pulls his phone from his pocket, he turns it back on and is met with constant dings from the same random number that was texting him this morning. One message sent a chill racing down his spine. 

    ‘Pink is definitely your color ;).’ 

    That was the last message that was sent, Emile jumps when the roar of the bus’s engine snaps him out of his shock. He puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a deep breath, ‘They’re not talking about me, it’s okay I’m just overreacting.’ Emile tells himself as he counts out the right amount of money for the bus fare. 

    He flashes the bus driver a small smile as he pays the fee, the driver tips his hat and closes the door as Emile moves to sit in the back. 

    ‘It’s still going to be a good day, it's okay.’ 

    A part of Emile no longer believed that thought. 

    He tries to ignore thoughts of the text as he plugs his earphones in. There was no need for him to worry about odd texts. He’d never had strangely personal texts like that before, why would they start now? It was probably aimed at someone else, like all the other texts.

    You seriously still believe that? Come on, let’s stop kidding ourselves.

    Emile ignores his inner voice, choosing to focus on the song that was playing, it was Stronger Than You from Steven Universe. He tenses when the song is cut off with a new text notification. Emile takes a breath and opens the text, his blood ran cold. 

    ‘I can see you, that’s my favorite cardigan of yours that you’re wearing.’

    Emile looks up and scans the patrons in front of him, no one looks out of the ordinary, everyone minding their own business other than a mother who was struggling to calm her infant down. 

    ‘Who are you? Please leave me alone, my brother is a detective!’ He texts back. Emile watches anxiously as the three text bubbles appear and disappear multiple times. His mouth goes dry when the dreaded reply comes through with a chime. 

    ‘I’m your saviour, my precious bunny.’ 

    He forces himself to breathe upon seeing the message. That was creepy, yes, but it was fine, right? There was no way he could actually see him.

    ‘Is your phone background still that guy dressed as a cartoon character?’

    Emile breathes deeply and looks at his phone background. Roman had taken him to a comic con, and had cosplayed as Prince Zuko from Avatar The Last Airbender. Zuko had never been Emile’s type, but when it was Roman? Hot. Burning hot, one might say.

    He frantically texts back with ‘no, it’s the gay pride flag’. A lie, but that was fine, right? There was no way this stalker - that’s what it must be, right? - could know for sure.

    He gets the next message within a moment.

    ‘Liar.’

    His heart races as he breaks out in a cold sweat.

    ‘I’m not lying, it really is the gay pride flag!’ 

    The reply was almost instant, Emile’s hands were shaking as he read over the text multiple times. 

    ‘Funny, because to me it looks like a pretty red-head with blue eyes, with a shitty white foundation on and a crappy looking attempt at a burn scar. Prince Zuko right? From Avatar The Last Airbender? Gotta say I didn't think he was your type.’ 

    Emile scans the bus again, everything once again seems normal, no one standing out, only the mother with the infant was finally relaxed with the sleeping child resting against her chest. 

    ‘Leave me alone, if you text me again I’m going to my brother.’ 

    Once the reply is sent Emile immediately blocks the number, cutting off all contact with his apparent stalker. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he could handle this, he didn’t need his brother’s help right now. Surely with the threat of telling his detective brother, ‘You don’t really think Dee would believe you? He’s got better things to do than worry about you.’ 

    Emile winces at his inner voice, ‘That’s not true…’ 

    “Hey, Emile! This still your usual stop or were you planning to go somewhere else today?” The bus driver calls back to him, it wasn’t odd for him to know Emile considering the bus was the young therapist’s most used choice of transportation. 

    “Sorry, Greg! I was just lost in thought!” 

    Emile quickly stuffs his phone back into his coat pocket, he walks briskly down the bus aisle, giving Greg a small wave as he steps off. He takes a deep breath and puts on his serious face. 

    “Time to get this day over,” he mumbles as he makes his way into St. Joseph’s Behavioral Health centre.

    Emile puts on a calm smile as he walks inside, the cool air from the air conditioning fanning his face. Emile was a therapist in training, or well that’s what his boss says. He’s a therapist, only the health centre wasn’t hiring new ones yet, so he landed the job of being the psychiatrist's assistant until a therapeutic job was open. 

    Emile couldn’t wait til that day came, he had so many ideas on how to help his future patients. Most of his ideas involved cartoons but others involved other methods like journal entries! He would let his patients tell their stories in a fictive kind of way, giving them a fun time with therapy and a more comfortable way to talk about their problems! 

    “Emile! Finally, thought you were going to be late, follow me.” A feminine voice beckons from across the lobby. Emile looks up and sees the familiar dark face of his boss, her brown eyes crinkling at the edges as she flashes him a smile, her ebony hair let down for once instead of being held back in a tight bun. 

    Emile nods and walks over to her, struggling to keep up with her long strides as she marches down the hall ahead of him. 

    “You seem in a chipper mood, Caroline, did Marcus finally pop the question?” 

    “Very funny, Picani, but no. I’m in a chipper mood because one of my patients agreed to let you sit in during their session! I’ll be asking your input on things they should be doing to handle their depression, I think you’ll get along with them you two act very similar.” 

    Emile blinks his green eyes in shock, he stares at her for a moment waiting for her to laugh and say ‘gotcha!’ But it never came and Emile couldn’t help the huge grin that stretched across his face. 

    “Really!?” Emile squeals. 

    Caroline chuckles as she stops in front of her office door, she turns to look at him and nods. 

    “Really, I finally get to see just how good you think you are, rookie.” 

    Emile stifles his excitement when Caroline opens the door, he takes a deep breath and lets it out through his nose. ‘I can do this!’ 

    He closes the door behind him once they step in, Caroline’s office was the biggest in the health centre, with a mahogany desk and black leather chairs. Sitting in the chair on the left in front of Caroline’s desk was a man a year or two younger than Emile. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, not as blue as Roman’s they were a paler shade, while Roman’s looked more like sapphires. 

    The man wore glasses with a black square frame, a light dusting of freckles over his tanned face. Now, Emile wasn’t one to judge anyone on their clothes considering his outfits choices consisted of baggy sweaters and cardigans, but this guy looked like one of those commercial fathers with a standard blue polo, khakis, and a cardigan or in this man’s case, a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. 

    Emile flashes the man a polite smile and offers him his hand, “Hello! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, do you how do?” His smile widens when the man chuckles at the reference he made. 

    “Spongebob ref, nice! I'm peachy, Dr. Picani! My name’s Patton Holter, it’s nice to meet you!” 

    The two shake hands, Emile’s left wondering where he had heard that name before. 

    Within an hour Emile had learned just about all there is to know about Patton Holter. Patton was born on January 19th, 1985 and he has a twin brother, he was adopted by his two father’s when he was five, and he has been struggling with depression since he was sixteen. His methods of dealing with his depression were taking antidepressants along with talk therapy twice a week. 

    “You could try journaling, my boyfriend has depression and keeping a journal usually helps him, only he makes up characters and uses them as a way to vent,” Emile suggests. 

    He notices a change in Patton’s blue eyes, a type of recognition and malice at the mention of Roman.

    “I’ll give that a try! My brother writes songs, he’s got anxiety problems and writing out depressing lyrics always seems to help him, but I’ll try story-telling. It might be fun!” 

    Pride swells up in Emile’s chest, ‘I’m actually helping someone!’ 

    “Well, seeing as you liked Dr. Picani’s idea we’ll give it a try, Patton. I don’t have any blank journals right now, but I should have one by the time you come in this Friday, is that okay?” Caroline asks. 

    “Of course! I can’t wait for the two of you to read what I write!” 

    Another hour passes before Patton’s session is up, Emile stands when Caroline does, offering his hand to Patton giving him a polite smile. A cold chill races down the young therapist’s spine when he notices how cold Patton’s baby blue eyes looked. His smile was sharp and dangerous instead of the playful smile he had on earlier. 

    “See ya soon, Emile,” Patton says as he tightens his grip on Emile’s hand. 

    Before Emile could reply, Patton was out the door leaving him and Caroline alone in the office. 

    “Well, you’re better than I thought, Picani. Good job!” 

    “Thanks… Do I get to sit in on the next one or?” 

    “Fraid not, kid. You can help the nurses give out medicine and get everyone situated, then after that paperwork that needs to be signed. Think ya can handle that?” 

    “Of course!” 

    Emile and Caroline bid their farewells as he closes the door to her office. Emile stops mid-stride down the hallway and turns to look back. He could have sworn he saw a wisp of grey fabric going around the corner. 

    He shakes his head and chuckles softly to himself, ‘I’m just paranoid after those texts.’ 

    He sets off to go find the nurses, which at this time of day would be in the old building. A few years ago the hospital had a donation big enough to make a new building, where they did most of the important procedures now. But the old building was still in use, and Emile hated it.

    The only way to get to it was through the back entrance of the new building, follow the path (which was in an awful state), and then unlock the side entrance of the old building. And with his recent creepy texts, he really didn’t want to be out of sight. Just in case.

    You’re being paranoid, it’s fine.

    With a deep breath he heads out the door, down the path, trying not to catch his foot on the worst of it. He’d heard of nurses breaking things on the path, and whilst they could just be rumours, he didn’t care to turn into a rumour himself.

    He rounds the bend, and pauses, hearing something behind him rustle. What if…? No, ridiculous. He turns to see a cluster of bushes and chides himself. Of course bushes would rustle. Most plants do, if there’s enough of them.

    He turns back, humming softly to himself as he approaches the side door, only to freeze at the buzz of his phone. He tries to ignore it, but it buzzes again, and he hesitantly reaches for it.

    “I swear I turned you off,” he mutters, but sure enough, it was on, and he had two texts.

    ‘Hey Bunny.’

    ‘Behind you.’

    Emile turns quickly, looking around desperately and tensing up. Plants, plants, door, car…

    “...Damn, they really got me there,” he mutters, “...I knew I was being-”

    A cloth is shoved over his mouth as he gasps, and he internally curses himself for not staying aware as he realises someone is now behind him. Emile struggles weakly, trying to tear the hand holding the cloth away from him, with no luck.

    “Just sleep now, bunny.”

    I...no…

    Emile is out before he can fight back any more.

    Desmond sat in his car with his seat lounged completely back, this was how he normally spent his breaks. Just taking naps inside his car, well he had other ways he spent his breaks but Alvin wasn’t there today. Desmond cracks his left eye open when the radio strapped to his side comes to life. 

    ‘I need any available officer to visit St. Joseph’s Health Centre. A nurse called in saying something about a patient escaping again.’ 

    Desmond quickly snatches his radio and presses the PTT switch, “I’ll go, I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

    ‘You could be in here doing your paperwork, Wickham.’ His boss cuts in. 

    “What I can’t hear you, you’re breaking up, captain!” 

    He shuts his radio off and fixes his seat, Desmond knew he was going to get hell for ignoring the captain later but oh well, it wasn’t like that was anything new. Besides, him taking this gives him the chance to apologize to Emile and let him know that he’ll be picking him up later. 

    Desmond sighs when his phone begins to ring, he accepts the call and puts on a fake cheer. “Captain! Ya know it’s dangerous to be on a cellphone while driving sir.” 

    “You’ve done it plenty of times, so I know you’re not worried about it. You can’t keep putting this paperwork off, Desmond.” 

    “Yeah, I know but the assistant I hired will handle it tomorrow. It’ll get done, now let me handle this issue, alright?” 

    The captain sighs. 

    “You and your brother got into another fight, didn’t you?” 

    “Maybe…” 

    “Alright, fine go make up with him but you bring your ass right back here afterwards, got it?” 

    Desmond rolls his eyes, “Yes sir,” he drawls as he hangs up on his boss. 

    Desmond presses his foot the gas, surging down the residential road, funny this was what led to his and Emile’s argument. ‘I really hope he’s okay…’ The last time they got a call about a patient getting loose Emile had gotten hurt. Getting smacked with a bedpan was not a fun experience for his little brother. 

It wouldn’t have been fun for the patient either if Emile had let Desmond have ‘talk’ with them, but Emile said that it would look bad on his record if he assaulted a mentally ill patient. What? He’s got a temper sue him!  

Desmond slows down when the health centre comes into view, he furrows his brows and narrows his blue and brown eyes. 

“Odd… There aren’t any nurses out looking this time around.” 

He pulls up to the curb and puts the car in park, before he even has a chance to step out, a nurse rushes over from inside the old building. Desmond blinks when her face went from fearful to utterly heartbroken. 

Tears gather in the nurse's brown eyes, “I… I’m so sorry… I-I should have gone out when I saw someone behind him. I'm so sorry!” 

“Hey calm down, alright? I’m sure we’ll find Mr. Stevenson, he never goes far.” 

The nurse lets out a sob, Desmond twitches at the sound but forces himself to calm down. 

“I-It wasn’t a patient! I-I told them… I-It was your brother, somebody took Emile and I couldn’t see their face, I am so s-sorry!” 

All the air was knocked out of Desmond, ‘Somebody took Emile…’ 

Roman paces the living room, his phone clutched tightly in his hands waiting for Emile to send him a text message or to at least call him. He checks the time, fifteen past nine, Emile was supposed to have been home almost an hour ago. 

Roman feels his stomach drop when there’s a knock at the door, he quickly walks over to it and swings it open. 

Desmond stood on the stoop with his hand raised, ready to knock again. Bi-coloured eyes meet blue, they’re both silent for several minutes before Desmond speaks up. 

“Emi’s missing.”

[watchoutforthefanfics]

Your Heart Thine Destined To Be // Part One

Ship: Eventual Logince, Moxiety, and Dukeceit.

Summary: (Arranged Marriage! AU) Okay, sure. Roman’s in the next place for the crown. Okay, SURE. Roman’s not ready for that, and his parents know this too. So, what’s their solution? Have him marry someone who is, because God knows they aren’t going to let Remus have the crown.

Originally was going to be a comic, but my art skills are wack right now. And I need thissss.

Tags: @enragedbees @dante1138 @arc-gx @logan-sanders-enthusiast @nic-is-here

Let me know if you wanna be tagged!

//◇◇◇\

Okay, yes.

Roman was supposed to be at breakfast right now with his two brothers and his parents, at the long dining table. It was his schedule.

But he was out in the lush forest, climbing a tree instead. Which, he believed, is completely understandable, he should be able to miss breakfast to explore.

To be active? They were going to discourage him from being active? Doubtful.

The way the air bubbled onto his skin, the way that the sunrise lit up the sky, it was all so… perfect.

He wasn’t going to miss it for some… breakfast. He had breakfast everyday, this sunrise… it felt like one in a million.

“Roman!” a voice called to him, low from the bellows and he immediately froze –his father–, “What are you doing up there? It’s time for breakfast, you sho-”

“I know, Dad. It’s just-” Roman groaned, holding onto the trunk as his eyes flocked to the sky (which at this point was a beautiful mix of blue and pink), “-look at this sunrise!”

King Gerald, a burly man with a thick beard (more teddy bearish than you’d think), faltered; his voice pausing and his dark eyes running to the sky.

He watched his father light up, eyes twinkling, and lightly wondered to himself, where would he be if he wasn’t crowned King?

Is this what he always wanted?

“It is,” the King murmured, “-quite beautiful, son.”

Roman sighed, “But?”

King Gerald sighed, straightening his posture, “You– We have duties, Roman; you have to learn to stick to your schedule. How are you supposed to-”

Roman froze, he’s going to say it, he doesn’t think I can rule. His heart pounding, he watched him struggle for words, trying to voice his thoughts, but upon matching his eye, fell silent.

“Roman,” the King sighed with a tired smile, “-you will be an excellent King someday, and a King… has priorities. Of which I am the current King, so you’re coming to breakfast. For your dear old Dad’s sake?”

The prince took a longing glance at the horizon, knowing he didn’t want to stay here, but it was his only option, “Fine… but I want a blueberry muffin.”

His father laughed, his deep belly laugh, “Deal, knucklehead.”

^^^

The castle’s dining room was, as assumed, very shiny with soft carpets and polished wood on every surface. Roman almost liked it almost as much as the ballroom, but with just the bare eye, the two would never compare.

His eyes first rested on his mother, who was sitting with poise, with her light hair and tan skin made to perfection. Her eyes, however, held a glare at her son; purely because of the concern, he’d guess.

“Roman,” she spoke with the softest of tones, with an edge ready to bite just awaiting the sign to launch, “Why are you late for breakfast?”

Roman opened his mouth to explain, but his father spoke first, “No worries, darling. It’s all taken care of.”

With a grateful smile to his father, Roman found his eyes fall to his little brother: Patton. He wasn’t much younger, but he definitely looked it. With his chubby cheeks and doll like blue eyes, Roman found his curly hair was something he’d wanted all his life.

“Good morning, Patton!”

“Roman!” Patton smiled, jumping up and pulling him into a hug, as expected.

“Ooh,” Patton squeaked, “-I have something for you! Don’t let me forget.”

“Will do, Patt.”

And finally, his eyes rested on his twin. His forsaken, nothing-like-him-at-all twin, Remus. He wasn’t ugly per say, but he definitely wasn’t upholding the squeaky clean majesty title with his messy hair and makeup 24/7.

“Remus,” he grumbled, trying to avoid eye contact.

Remus didn’t even look up from… whatever he was drawing on the napkin; Roman honestly didn’t want to know.

“Honey,” his father scoffed, straightening out his newspaper, “-look at this! They’re already asking about the new crowning! What is even-”

“Mi amor,” his mother, Madeline, soothed, “-we’ll talk about this later, yes?”

King Gerard, a large broad shouldered man mind you, pouted, “I’m not that old yet.”

“‘Course not, honey-” his mother hummed, “-the magazines are despicable, you know this.”

“So,” his father added, to move on the conversation, “-what’ve you boys been up to?”

Patton spoke first, careful and considerate, “I’ve made flower crowns for everyone! Our gardener helped me pick ones to match you guys! So… yeah.”

Their mother smiled, “That’s so sweet, I’m sure we’ll love it, kiddo.”

After running her fingers through his hair, she faltered, her glance a little dampened, “Remus? What have you done, honey?”

Remus looked up, his eyes wide, and subtle with the look of… appreciation, “Uh, I painted today. It was a roaring Cyclops, attacking a town, and he’s rippin-”

“Re, buddy-” their father coughed, “-how about we stop there? You can tell us later, when we’re not… eating.”

Remus nodded, his face falling just a smidge, “Yes, sir.”

Roman paused, messing with his food on his plate and quietly humming to a tune he’d had stuck in his head for days.

“Roman?” his mother’s sweet voice broke through, “What about you? How are your studies, training, or… Forgive me, what were you working on?”

“My romance novel?” Roman grinned, attention on his food quickly scrapped, “Oh, it’s swell, mother! My characters are coming together so fast, I swear they’ve got a mind of their own.”

“What about your fencing?” the King acquired, with a puzzled look on his worn face. He’d had about two meetings with a few other leaders that morning, or at least that’s what Roman remembered.

“Yes, uh-” Roman nodded, tapping his chin as if he hadn’t remembered every lesson he’d ever had, “- Ms. Maple is doing wonderfully. I feel such great improvement.”

Breakfast was short-lived after that, Patton kept popping in with puns, and his father was bringing up a few things the kingdom had going on in a few weeks.

“Roman, I’ll have you know-” his father chuckled, shaking his head, “-I’ve been contacted by… many suitors for your hand." 

Roman rolled his eyes, "Dad, stop!”

His mother chuckled, “You’re a very handsome, young man, it only makes sense!”

Roman blushed up to his ears, “Thank you, Mama. That’s very kind of you, but I wish to be swept off my feet for reasons, other than personal gain.”

“Picky,” Remus muttered, as he drew into his napkin harshly.

Roman rolled his eyes, “Says you. Your standards are bare minimum!”

The King raised an eyebrow, a curious expression glazing his dark eyes, “Standards?”

Remus spoke, simply, “A hot guy.”

Roman began, taking a breath, “Taller than me, blue or green eyes, lovely, cute, shared the same interests… Hmm, he HAS to have the softest hair on this Earth. I don’t make the rules-”

“See,” Remus interrupted him, “-picky bitch.”

His mother gasped, but Roman would bet she wasn’t as surprised as you’d assume, “Remus Mich Elliott! You did not just speak like that at the table.”

“Yeah,” Roman hummed, muttering, “-plus, you’re the bitch, bitch.”

“Roman Chase Elliott! I can’t believe you two! No more talking at this table, until you can gather your manners, boys. Right, G?”

Roman’s eyes wafted over to his father’s, his face was flushed and he was hunched over, trying desperately to hold back laughter.

His mother sighed, “You boys are… Patton, are you done with your meal? If so, I say we take a trip to the gardens. Pull some new flowers for the vases I received yesterday?”

Patton smiled, “I’d love to, Mama.”

In a blink, the two were walking out of the dining room with interlocking arms.

It was quiet for a second, then a minute, and then his father finally spoke.

“Is she gone?”

“I-” Roman glanced towards the doorway they had exited through, “I think so, Pops.”

It was in that moment, his father slipped into a body-throwing laughing fit with a red flushed face, and soon Roman felt his own smile squirming up onto his lips.

In just a few seconds, the whole table was full of excess laughing, to a point that the staff had come to check in on them at least 10 times in the past 30 minutes.

“Alright,” the King raised from his seat, wiping his eyes, “-that’s enough playing around. You two, head off to your room.”

Roman paused, his face switching in the quickest of blinks, “But, I thought-”

“Ah, ah, ah-” their father shook his fingers, “-both of you know that Patton, nor your mother, like those words. You both knew better.”

“Father-” Remus groaned, in tune with a sigh of his own.

“Nope,” he shook his head, “-go to your room until lunch, and then apologize to your mother immediately after.”

The twins rolled their eyes, each muttering a disgruntled, “Yes, sir.”

Roman sighed, making his way up the stairs to a place without the sunshine in the morning. He could open up his window, he’d thought, but wouldn’t be the same view from that tree.

He was furious, the kind of furious you’d get when you couldn’t get ice cream as a kid, but he wouldn’t stomp or throw a tantrum. Not that he was past that. 

It was just that his hair was styled to perfection, and he was not doing that disservice to the Earth to lose it.

So, he just made his way up there with every inch of pettiness he could put into his walk. Which, he’d learned to do quite well.

With a dash and a skip, Roman arrived at the dark oak door -edged with an art design he’d carved just a few years ago. 

It was a shield, painted red and yellow, with a castle and the beautiful sun; he’d made it out of pure spite, just because Remus had said he couldn’t.

But, he’d actually loved the design. So, he began to incorporate it throughout his art -the knights he drew held it on their arm, flags on castles were woven with it in a shimmering fabric, outfits adorned the symbol, faces had it painted on their cheeks, and sometimes, he just drew the landscape on it with simple colors and dazzling visuals.

With blink to refocus, Roman pushed open his door, a feeling of urgency suddenly hitting him there as he stood. In a few quick steps, his eyes were blessed with the tower view of the sun beautifully raised in the sky.

He’d always loved the color blue. It had held so many different interpretations, so many different emotions.

Of course, red always had a place in his heart, but blue? It was calm and urgent, like ocean waves and yet also like, a thunderstorm. It could make him float off into a world of wonders, and quietly he would stay there, dreaming of a world where everything was relaxed… and he’d have no impending future.

That woke him up from the dream, the idea that he’d be destined to take care of the kingdom… His eyes shifted from the fluffy clouds above, to the beige-stoned buildings below.

It was beautiful, yes. Flowers sprouted in gardens, scattered throughout every lawn they could be. The roofs were varied, each dressed in a unique trim, that matched up with a unique family –unique people– in each home.

One day, he’d be responsible for them all, all the children giggling through the street, all the hard workers reaching to make ends meet, all the parents who’d had so much life to live, all the elders who chatted away with stories of the past, all the people who deserved… so much better than him.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

The Price of Privilege - Part 10 (A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: Angst / Romance / Arranged Marriage / Royalty AU

Characters: Kyungsoo X You

Description: The time has come to marry the man your family has selected to take your hand. As royalty, these important matters are arranged for you, but when you meet your soon to be husband, he is nothing like you expected.

The Price of Privilege [M]: - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11, part 12 , part 13 , part 14, part 15

When you were a child you had a recurring dream that you were trapped underwater. The threat of drowning was imminent, yet in your dream you had somehow figured out how to breathe. The trick was doing it slowly and steadily enough to seek out the rare oxygen bubbles floating within the water that would hold you over until you could reach the surface. In the dream, you could never seem to escape the water, and yet you never drowned either. It was merely an endless purgatory with no respite.

Trying to breathe in this fitting room felt just like being underwater. Your vision swam with dizziness with each turn of your head and the steady noise coming from the workers in this building was astounding.

It was supposed to be a dress fitting. You were awoken at dawn and dragged from your room by royal maids who spoke in quick words as they poked and preened at you.

This was the fifth dress. Or was it the seventh? What was abundantly clear the moment you stepped through those fancy french doors that separated you from the main hall, was that none of this was up to you. You didn't even look at the dresses as they were placed upon your body.

There was a rough tug on your back and pulled your entire frame into a stumble and you nearly lost your footing on the heels you wore. Your toes inside were numb and two hands reached for your own to steady you. The oxygen in the room grew distant and further away as the maid behind you pulled harder at the strings that constricted your waist.

Fashion, the high fashion clothing items you were often made to wear were never designed with comfort in mind. You breathed slowly and steadily. Only half as deep as you wanted to, you searched for the tiny oxygen bubbles in the water to keep from passing out. As long as you remained calm, as long as you did it slowly and carefully, you should be able to keep from drowning.

There was one thing that poked at you, unrelated to the stiff bars that lined this corset; on your way into this room, you caught the sight of another space on the opposite side of the grand foyer of this hall. The door had been left open and staff inside busied themselves with arranging, tagging and cataloging the array of crisp black tailored suits that lined the back wall of that room.  

From the glimpse you caught, he hadn’t arrived yet. But the sight of those suits alone was enough to suck the air from your own lungs and settle a stone heavy over your chest. The dizziness worsened after that.

Kyungsoo would be here today.

You hadn’t seen any sign of him since that day...since the day you left him broken on the floor with the glass shards, the ripped apart fabric and fluff, and the fractured remains of the trust he had been foolish enough to give to you.

You hadn’t seen him since he caught you searching his home for what he surely saw as evidence to use against him. To strip him of his title, to bring him down, to ruin him. You hadn’t seen even a glimpse of those eyes that looked into yours with betrayal and hurt since you left that day. How many days had it been?

“What day is today?” Your voice was thready and uneasy and the maid who held you by the forearms looked up into your eyes for the briefest moment before breaking the contact and looking back down and away from you. They didn’t usually look into your eyes as they worked on you.

What would he believe?

That you and May had been working together all along? That his suspicions of your servant had been well founded and that her arrest should have been yours instead? That you were a snake and a traitor to him, sent to destroy him from the beginning?

That the love you shared with him had been a lie?

He couldn’t believe that.

Your chest constricted and the strings were pulled again. You felt a burning in the back of your eyes that you blinked away before it had the chance to come to anything. You had a face full of makeup already and crying was definitely something no one had any time for.

“It’s Wednesday, Your Highness. The wedding is this Saturday.”

The movement that rocked you on your feet went still. The pause told you that the dress was on. The torture was over for a while at least and the maid holding your arms dropped you, leaving you to balance and teeter on your own in the middle of this room full of strangers.

Two more days. You had two days to watch the tape and decide what you would do with it. Two days before you would be married into this family and this royal house ...until the day of your death.

It had taken Jun just 12 hours to obtain a cassette capture device that would convert the video with your laptop. He had delivered it inside a boutique shopping bag concealed with clothing and it sat in the corner of your bedroom since it had arrived.

The curiosity that inflated your belly was no match for the guilt that sat heavy at the base of your spine.

The doors of the fitting room swung open and the small woman with the commanding voice, the ringleader of this circus and the one who’s opinion was the only valid one, entered. Her glasses perched on the tip of her nose and your fingers itched to push them up higher onto her face. You fisted your hands at your side to keep from touching her in any way. She was entirely too engrossed in her work to tolerate any such activity from you.

“This is it. This is the one.” she cooed at the dress and you looked down for the first time at the enormous ballgown you wore. It was heavy and it constricted like a boa around your chest, sucking out what little life you had left inside your body.

“Don't you just love it?” It felt like a question directed at you but you couldn't imagine that she actually cared about your opinion. Yet the impulse to answer was strong and your lips parted to answer when another voice spoke up from somewhere behind you. “Yes, it’s perfect.” The man behind you, her assistant, of course, and the person who had been hired to stroke her sizable ego replied and you tried your best to hide the chuckle that escaped your lips; amused that you had even considered that any of them gave a damn about what you thought. “It’s grand enough to appease her family but not grander than Queen Hong’s wedding gown was.”

“Oh, nothing should be grander than the queen’s wedding gown.” The forced indignation in the woman’s voice came through loud and clear and the man nodded his head in complete agreement. They both played their parts well, careful to speak their horror at such a thought at loud enough volumes to avoid any misunderstandings about who they were really putting on such grand heirs for.

The heavy dress swayed and followed with each step you took as you were pulled out of the dressing room into the foyer with the wall lined with mirrors. What you saw, in triplicate, was the reflection of yourself stuffed, painted and adorned with enough money to feed a whole family for years.

Your ears perked up at the sound of whispers behind you and a single word stuck out.

“The prince has been located,” they all said to each other and their eyes were cast down with faces grim and lined with worry.

The prince.

Prince Kyungsoo. Your stomach churned and you wished you had eaten something before you were brought here.

The stylist spun, eyes wide and her glasses teetered closer to the edge of her nose. “The prince is coming?” she repeated the whispers at a louder volume and their faces all turned away, looking down and away from her wide eyes.

“Yes, ma’am, but--” one of the staff, a taller girl with a different uniform than the others, who clearly held more authority than the others stepped forward. Her hands were clasped together in front of her waist they were red where she squeezed them down hard. You were certain they would be trembling had she not held them together so. “--he appears to be...impaired.”

“Imp--” Her voice rose in pitch and volume, “--he’s drunk?”

“Yes, ma’am. Quite.”

The commotion on the outside of the door sent heads turning and there was a low groan in a voice you knew inside your soul.

He was a limp mass, dragged in through the door with two security agents under each arm. His legs seemed to hold themselves up just enough, but the sagging in his knees told you he wasn’t walking in here on his own. He might not even be conscious right now, from what you could tell.

Your gasping breath reached only halfway into your lungs and you coughed into it, trying to get more air into your lungs as you tried to fight against the dress. His entire head was covered with the black hood of his jacket and you could make out the shape of his chin from below. The soft curve of his lips, pink and still below the fabric and you took a step before you knew what you were doing.

But there were people in the way. Bodies of people everywhere who hovered around him and like the red sea, the crowd parted in front of you. Not for you, of course, but for the stylist. Her aura commanded obedience and the two guards lifted him up higher.

Your high heels afforded you a slight view over the woman’s head and you saw the movement of his lips as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and bit down.

He was awake. He breathed in loud and deep and coughed. A ragged sound that rattled the room around you and your head swam as you tiptoed higher to see him.

You had to see him. It had been so long and he had to be okay.

At last, his legs found the ground and he pushed himself up, standing taller than he had been when he was being dragged in here and the two men at his side loosened their hold on his arms, but not releasing him.

“Let me go,” he growled in a low voice and the grip they held released his arms for a second. Just long enough for his legs to give and for him to sink down to the floor. There was a loud gasp. Something outside of the drunken man who was quickly pulled back up into a standing position and the stylist had her hands forward as she peered into Kyungsoo’s face.

“Goodness gracious, Your Highness, what have you done to yourself.” Her voice held a new sort of panic that sent your chest into a spasm. Your hands pressed against the sides of the corset hard, trying to free some space for a little more air. It worked enough for one deep gasp.

His face lifted and you saw the whites of his eyes, now red and bloodshot and his lips pulled into a wide grin as he looked into her face. His eyes didn’t seem to hold any focus at all, but that smile felt wicked as you watched it.  

“Just a little haircut,” he slurred through the grin and he laughed harder, coughing again until his eyes closed up.

“Two days before your wedding?” She had a horror in her voice and her hand lifted to push the hood of his coat away from his head.

His hair was gone. Completely buzzed away, in what looked like an uneven shave job with cheap clippers, done in a fit of rage or madness.

“Wedding--” he mumbled and his tongue seemed to get in the way of his speech now, but the smile was back. Only this time you had to look away. You couldn't see this anymore. The burning in the back of your eyes returned when you closed them, wishing for it to subside quickly before you were scolded for ruining your face.

“--wedding...to...her--”

His words quit. You held your breath and swallowed and your closed eyelids fluttered and fought against your efforts.

He had stopped saying whatever it was he was trying to say and you felt a single teardrop escape through your closed eyes. You had to blink. You had to open your eyes and stop the emotions once and for all, but this room was suffocating you too much now.

When his words stopped coming there was a lull. A strange silence in the room around you and you blinked faster as your eyes roamed over the ceiling above your head. You felt desperate and you felt like you might be on fire with the heat you suddenly felt from the other side of the room.

Your own eyes betrayed you, as they always did, and you looked at him.

And his eyes had found you.

Standing just within his line of sight, dressed in the gown you would wear when you would become his wife in two day’s time, his brown eyes stared into your face with his drunken rambling words snatched from his parted lips and he stared at you.

“Strong coffee and cold water-- bring me both,” The stylist was shouting orders at the people around her and his body was pulled and shoved toward the room with the suits lining the back wall.

He was under a spell and you found yourself unable to look away from the dark gaze he kept on you.

“Your Highness, what did you have? Just alcohol? Did you take anything else?” He wasn’t answering their questions and those eyes blackened and stayed trained on you until the moment when he was pushed forcefully toward the open door of the room. Someone else was speaking to him, up close and in his face, another woman shouted questions at him, snapping her fingers in his face to get his attention off of you and onto her. Her hands touched his face and pulled open his sagging eyelids. She shook her head in exasperation at what she found.

“Jesus...your pupils-- let me see your arms.” The jacket he wore was pushed off his shoulders and on the knuckles his hands you saw the bright red of pulled-open wounds. Whatever he had been doing, his knuckles were raw from this particular bout of self-destruction.

The door was closed behind him and you felt your legs give out from under you. The dress was too heavy and it pulled you down as you sagged into a heap on the floor in front of the mirrors. The room spun too much. Your slow and careful breathing had been thrown out the window the second he looked at you and when you opened your eyes to look around you, the faces of the women who fretted and fluttered around you were tinged with black around the edges. There were flashing spots of lights that danced in your vision and you covered your mouth with your hands cupped over your nose and your mouth to try and get your frantic breathing to settle into something that would actually work to inflate your lungs.

You couldn’t manage it. You had to get this fucking dress off and you pulled at the back, trying to get ahold of something that would untie it. Anything that would free you from this prison and the panic was setting in.

“Loosen the corset.” You heard the voice of the stylist’s assistant shout at the women and you felt something give in the back of your chest.

It was like the lights had been turned on in a pitch black room and you could suddenly see the walls and the faces of the people who watched and waited for you to be sacrificed alive. But the relief of finally being able to see something was enough to make you thank them for their attendance. Your vision flashed with shadows on the wall of makeshift nooses hanging from the ceiling.

With the oxygen, came a steadying in your chest and you inhaled deeply, willing the room to stop spinning and thanking the heavens when the dark shadows stopped dancing around the backs of everyone’s heads like that.

You had a few expectations. This was, you had been told, a fitting. The stylist had been satisfied with the breath sucking ball-gown and perhaps you could slip a few bills into the palm of the staff and convince them not to tie the damn thing so tight for the ceremony on Saturday.

Would you even need to?

You had never been more unsure of anything in your life as you now were of the promises you had made to your family when you set out to marry Prince Do Kyungsoo.

The room around you was fluid; people moved as water flowing around you, lifting and tugging against your limbs like unruly waves and you were seated back inside the dressing room, somehow now separate from the ball gown that would be your demise in three day’s time.  

The stylist was back and she peered down at you through the tiny round lenses perched on the tip of her nose. Her mouth was a flat line of sobriety and in her face, she wore all the tension and worry of someone who’s head would be had should this ceremony not go exactly as the queen expected.

“We might as well break for lunch. I don't want you passing out during the rehearsal.” Her voice teemed with annoyance at the very thought of something else going wrong with her two conscripted performers.

Rehearsal? Your empty stomach lurched when your mind tried to process that word and all it foreshadowed.

The food rid your mind of some of the dizziness and you sharpened your ears to the quiet whispers of the staff members that entered your room. You wished they wouldn't whisper so quietly. You craned your neck; desperate for details of what was happening in that other room. It was mostly useless, for as soon as they caught on to your smallest movements, their eyes would cast down and their lips would snap shut.

The waiting was maddening. You longed for the days when May was with you. Distracting you with her stories or with reading headlines of the latest news to you. Anything to keep you connected to the world you lived in. Here, with these standoffish strangers, you felt like you had been cut off from any semblance of reality. You hadn’t even heard the latest updates from the social media world. Was Prince Chanyeol still posting snippets of his music on SoundCloud? Was Crown Prince Minseok still the nation’s most eligible bachelor?  

Had Prince Baekhyun had any more news reports of public indecency that managed to make it past the royal press filters into the trashy tabloid magazines that you caught once or twice peeking out of the bags of staff members that frequented your rooms. The bright colored publications with outlandish headlines spread over the smiling face of the man who’s innocent smile was branded almost wide enough to hide the obvious mischief in his eyeliner-smudged eyes.

Before becoming as familiar with the man as you now were, you would have dismissed the stories as baseless gossip articles filled with shocking lies to sell magazines. Now that you had experienced Prince Baekhyun in real life, you were pretty sure all those articles from last year were true and he had indeed been involved in that underground gambling ring where the currency was only actual money when wild sexual favors or risky illegal substances could not be offered up instead. With as much as you knew about him now, it was a goddamn miracle that he wasn’t in the news every night with a story more shocking than the nights before.

“What is the rehearsal for?” Your question was peppered into the face of the person closest to you. She had been standing very still for so long you weren't even sure she was still awake, but she jumped when she heard you.

There was a quick bow of her head, too deep for such a small space with no witnesses to judge her deference to you, “Umm--,” she stammered, “The live broadcast of the wedding, Your Highness. The director wanted to do a few run-throughs for cameras and lighting. Also, the press reporters are here for the publicity photos. ”

Of course. You felt silly for being so out of the loop and now that she had told you, you recalled mention of the wedding being broadcast live in both countries. It was to be a public execution after all.

“You’ll have to get dressed again soon. I hear they are almost ready, Your Highness.”

You would have to face him. Up close and in the flesh, you would have to look at his face and see the hurt in his eyes. Did you even have the guts to look into those eyes right now?

You had little time to contemplate such inevitabilities because the stylist was back and the dress was stitched up again, cinching tightly around your already sore ribs and you practiced slow and steady corset breathing to keep your mind as clear enough to follow the director’s orders.

It felt like living inside of a movie. One of those dramatic films with villains and mysteries and murders. It definitely didn't feel like real life with the bright lights and sound crew making adjustments to hidden microphones trapped within vases and wrapped around the necks of pillars lining the foyer. You were sure the wires you saw would be hidden with fresh and elaborate floral arrangements on Saturday.

Men with security uniforms kept a still and silent vigil at the doors, keeping out anyone who should not be here, and no doubt keeping in anyone who might want to make a run for it. Not that you could make it three feet in these heels; with as heavy as this gown was. Crewmembers wearing headsets and earpieces spoke to someone as they tested their voices around you.

“Your Highness,” a low voice echoed behind your head and you turned to find the top of a head, caught mid bow, “I will be the stand-in for your father for the rehearsals. Please, may I have your hand?”

You heard a pushed up confidence in the voice and when he lifted his face to look at you there was a boyish pinkness in his cheeks. Your face must have shown the recognition for a moment and he straightened his shoulders and dropped his eyes from yours.

“I-If that is okay with you, of course. If you feel uncomfortable with me, I can get someone else—“

“Jun, It’s lovely to see you again. Of course.” You reached for his arm and gripped tightly around his palm. Jun, the young security guard whose eyes were too kind for this place. Jun, who have given you exactly what you needed to watch that cassette tape you had stolen from Kyungsoo’s most prized possession, and Jun, who felt sturdy and strong beside you as you rested your forearm over his. He held you steady and upright when all you wanted to do was sway with the thunderstorms that raged within your chest. You could do this. You could walk down that aisle and face the man who you had sinned against, as long as you could borrow a little bit of Jun’s strength to do so.

“—marble stairway — grand foyer — flowers, of course, the flowers,” the shrill voice of the stylist could be heard echoing into the expansive space just beyond your sight and you found yourself led to the top of the stairway she must have been talking about. Beside you, Jun was explaining the progression that the ceremony would take and you stared down at the steps before you.

“Of course, we’ve done a few run-throughs already, Your Highness. This will be the final one; so you and Prince Kyungsoo know how the real thing will go.”

“Is he here too?” You couldn't help your curiosity. He had seemed to be in no shape to stand at the end of that aisle without dropping into a drunken heap when you saw him hours ago.

“Yes ma’am, Prince Kyungsoo is inside.” Jun was quick with his response to your question and you inhaled as deeply as you could before your lips parted to ask a follow-up question while you had the chance, while you had his valuable intelligence all to yourself at this moment.

“Is he...okay?”

But Jun had heard something in his earpiece and lifted a finger over his ear toward the sound, breaking the eye contact, his shoulders tensed and you felt the moment lost.

“The Princess is ready,” he said into the empty air in front of him and you wanted to protest. You weren’t ready to face him. There were a lot of steps, this staircase was fucking massive and there were cameras in your peripherals that made you dizzy as you tried your best not to look at them. He leaned forward, bringing you along with him as he began to move down the stairs. The steady hum of movement and noise from the staff around you had gone suddenly silent as you both began to make your way.

You weren't ready. But you were going anyway. Your own two feet surprised you with the way they moved smoothly down each step. Years of training coming to your rescue you merely moved forward with your chin held high and the elegance of your significant breeding oozed from your every pore. You were made for this. You had been carefully preened and crafted throughout your entire life for moments like this one and despite the torture happening inside your chest, your body, you could at least count on your body to behave itself when it really came down to the obedience that was expected of you.

It was all you had ever known.

“Cue music — lights.”  Someone wearing a headset, holding a clipboard with trembling hands whispered in the shadows and you caught their movement with a brief glance. You could hear the flourish of the orchestra on the other side of the enormous doors and you wondered if the musicians had been practicing for months for this.

“Doors,” the shadows said, and before you, the doors swung open. The music grew louder, the lights sparkled and blinded you and your steps did not once slow down. Jun walked at an impressively steady pace and you followed along as you always had done.

The hall was enormous. You’d expected nothing less and your steady focus on the space in front of you was wavering as your eyes fought to focus, fought against the ingrained habit you had instilled in yourself to always look ahead in times like this. You were expected to remain poised and professional, not turn your head as shift your eyes frantically around the room. That wasn't the way a princess behaved.

But Goddammit did your eyes try and fight you. Your breathing quickened and Jun must have felt the change because his hand tightened below yours, fingers slipping around the side of your palm, he squeezed down lightly once.

There were cameras following your face down the aisle and you felt saliva pool inside your mouth, making you swallow quickly at the excess. Your heartbeat echoed in your eardrums and your steps felt sluggish as if the carpet below your feet was suddenly loose sand.

You forced your eyes forward. You could make it. You blanked out your face as much as you could and inhaled again, slowly and steadily. You were nearly there. You had nearly made it and you hadn’t given in to the burning in your eyeballs that begged and screamed for you to look at him.

He was right there. There was a shadow of a man. There was a smudge in black standing at attention at the end of the row and you could only make out the shape of him. A statue. Standing as still as could be. You swallowed again and you felt a quiet hiccup in your chest. The shadow moved and you blinked to moisten your drying eyes. The man at the end of the row took one small step forward and even with your focus trained on the wooden pulpit that sat atop a stage just beyond, you could see enough to recognize the shape and the size of Prince Kyungsoo.

Your Kyungsoo.

Your eyes were blinking quicker now and as if he were the North Pole and you, a compass with a single destination… and you looked.

It was Kyungsoo. It was your Kyungsoo, the man you loved, the man you had hurt and tricked and stolen from, the man who believed you had betrayed him utterly and completely, it was Kyungsoo and he — he was really here.

They had cleaned him up. You always knew he was the sort of handsome that took your breath away, but even with his hair gone (and it was completely gone, the shave job had been uneven and rash before this, but someone must have gone over it with sharp clippers today) even with the long evenings of self destruction and the fresh salve over his knuckles that shone against the bright lights, the man was undeniably beautiful. The suit he wore was fitted to his frame perfectly, pressed expertly and down to the shine on his patent leather shoes there was not a thread out of place on the outside.

Your breath caught again and your feet halted mid-step. A warmth over your hand though sharpened your mind to the change you had given in to. Jun placed his other hand on yours and squeezed down once more, pulling your attention from the frozen man in that perfect black suit, back toward your task at hand.

Jun’s eyes were on you, careful and cautious he lifted a single eyebrow in your direction with his silent question. You gave him your eyes for a second in response, shallowly nodded your head once and focused your attention on your intended pathway. Away from such tempting distractions like Kyungsoo’s tightly clenched fists that turned white around the raw redness of his knuckles as he stood with his jaw clenched and his eyes stared at the stained glass windows that lined the hall opposite of himself.

He had been so much stronger than you had been. Kyungsoo didn’t look at you once.

The ceremony felt familiar. You had seen plenty of royal weddings before and you merely moved where you were told to move, and stood beside the silent man with every ounce of your self-control working to max volume to keep from staring at his hands, his skin, his arms, his profile.

You were only successful half of the time. The pull to him was much too strong.

“Now the groom will face the bride.” The officiant, an old man you had never met before today was speaking out his instructions and you pivoted your legs in place to face where Kyungsoo had been silently waiting.

He didn't move. You were sure he had been paying attention to the officiant, as he had complied with the other instructions given, yet he stood still facing the front of the hall with his face blank and still.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, could you please face the bride?” The old man repeated the instruction and you saw the knot on the side of Kyungsoo’s jaw loosen and unclench as he swallowed. His jaw clenched down hard again when he was done and he blinked once.

“No,” he whispered out once and his eyelids half closed with the quiet word that left his lips. His ears were bright red and his eyes shone with moisture.

The officiant’s face paled just enough for him to have registered the response from the prince and for a second, the man was dumbfounded. Until his lips pulled into a smile and he nodded his head twice, the smile wider than this situation warranted.

“Ahh, you must not want to see her in her wedding dress yet.” The old man chuckled to himself, “I assure you, Your Highness, that is just a superstition. But if you don't want to look at her just yet, you are a man of great fortitude indeed. She is truly lovely today. Well, I suppose we can just skip ahead. You will take her hand, exchange the rings as you state your vows—“

“Are we done here then?” Kyungsoo’s gruff interruption grated on your ears and you longed for the stability of Jun’s arm again as the floor seemed to vibrate below your feet.

“Oh, umm...” The officiant looked over the book he held in his hands, slipping a finger over the page down the steps for the upcoming ceremony. “Well...I suppose you can move on to the photoshoot now. Everything else here happens real time on Saturday—“

“Good. I’ll leave first then.” Kyungsoo had already spun on his heels before the man could give his official word that nothing else was needed from him here in the wedding hall and you saw his fists unclench at last as he reached up to pull roughly at the tight bow tie around his neck.

“No, Your Highness, don't take that off yet, we need to do the pictures,” a short woman who you had seen working with the stylist chased behind him, her hands outstretched as she struggled to walk backward and re-tie the decorative bow that he had destroyed in a few swift movements.

“I never agreed to any pictures,” he barked back angrily and the woman flinched as his arm swung and pushed her off of him.

“Oh, but you did, my dear.” A new voice, one that brought with it a slithering shiver up your spine and sent a wave of gasps throughout the hall broke through the tension and Kyungsoo spun with his eyes wide to catch sight of who had just arrived through the parted doors in the back. She moved swiftly through the staff who bowed lowly and parted like the Red Sea upon her approach and you quickly dropped your head in deference as Queen Hong approached Prince Kyungsoo.

The gasping voices settled into a silence that hummed in your eardrums as the woman took a stand halfway in between where you had been frozen in place and where Kyungsoo had been yanking roughly at the knot around his neck. His hands had fallen along with his face when he realized who had arrived and his eyes blinked frantically as she leaned in, close enough to touch him if she wished to.

“Your Majesty,” Kyungsoo’s voice was soft and you could hear the pain hidden just below the surface that he ignored and spoke around. “I was just,” Those eyes blinked faster as he searched back and forth at his feet for his excuse.

“What have you done to your hair, Kyungsoo?” His eyes closed when her hand lifted and touched the skin at the back of his neck and he was frozen under her touch. “What have I always told you about controlling yourself, these impulses you have, Dear, they must always be kept in check.” His nostrils flared briefly with the inhale of breath.

“Leave us,” Queen Hong called out into ears of the staff behind her and heads which had been bowed popped up and into action as cameras were switched off and posts were abandoned in an instant. Your breath caught in your own throat as you quickly spun on your heels ready to vacate the hall as well when the face of a servant woman, one you often saw in the queen’s entourage, caught your eye and shook her head in response to your movement.

Whatever this was, you were required to stay put.

“Now, now Kyungsoo,” the false sweetness you had heard laid on thick when the cameras had been rolling, somehow without the necessity of the act sounded even more vile to your ears now that nobody else was around to watch her show. Yet she didn’t drop the act. You wondered if this was somehow for your benefit. All you could do was watch as her hand tightened around the back of his neck and his eyes lifted to meet hers. He inhaled a quiet sharp breath and you could make out the way his skin pulled tight under her fingernails.

His hair was short enough that if she squeezed in any tighter the red marks on his skin would show on camera. The pain she inflicted would have to be well controlled to keep up the game.

Kyungsoo’s hands hung limply at his side and he looked into the queen’s face with as blank an expression as he could muster.

“Haven’t I been a good mother to you? Haven’t I treated you as one of my own children?”

There was a grunt from somewhere within his chest and his eyes squeezed together in pain as he quickly nodded his head up and down, agreeing with whatever she said at this point to stop the pain.

He was closer now. Your feet must have moved on their own and you looked into your own two hands that were outstretched toward the two in surprise. What the hell were you doing? Did you really dare interrupt this?

When his eyes opened he caught your movement and those eyes held onto yours in wide panic.

Stop.

Don’t.

Those eyes screamed at you and you took another step. She was hurting him. Her other hand had found a spot at the front of his neck and he lifted his own hands futilely, wanting to stop the assault but not having the courage to do so.

“You only need to cooperate with this. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you. It’s already done Kyungsoo, you signed the agreement years ago, this ceremony is nothing but a formality.”

Another step from your legs and you saw the tick of her head as her ears recognized the sound of your movement behind her back and the widening of his eyes couldn’t have stopped you even if you had any control over what you were doing.

Your outstretched hands, the ones that wanted desperately to touch at his wounds and comfort his pain twitched and reached for her neck. Your fingertips longed to feel the warmth of her flesh as you squeezed down fast and hard against her throat. The hunger inside your belly would certainly be satisfied to feel the crush of her windpipe.

“Yes..M-Mother,” Kyungsoo shouted through hoarse vocal cords and you heard the rough gasp he took to speak through her tightened hands.

“I’ll do it, Mother, I promise you I’ll do everything I’ve promised you. Please believe me. I am so thankful to you.” The words flew quickly, his wide eyes still on your face and his volume raising as her fingers loosened their grip and rubbed slowly from his neck down to smooth out his suit jacket which had fallen out of place with the struggle.

“I knew you would see reason, my darling,” she cooed and ignored the loud gasp of breath he took as she tugged at the shirt he wore below the jacket.

“Now, you’ll have some photos taken for the press and I’m sure you’ll both look like the loving couple the country expects to see.”

When her attention shifted away from him, you had already taken a step back and away from her, away from the dark thoughts that had been flying through your mind as she had her hands on him and you lowered your eyes a second before she turned to fully examine you.

She was quiet for a moment, lost in whatever judgments on your appearance she was cultivating and you glanced up to meet the purse of her lips and her nose turned up in displeasure.

“The dress is fine, but you should change the red nails and lips to something with at least a little bit of class.”

You fisted your hands to hide your nails and pulled your lips in between your teeth. The instinct to hide from this woman was stronger than anything you had felt before.

“That’s unless you want everyone in the nation to know just how easy it was for him to get you into his bed.” She emphasized the word ‘easy’ with a scowl of disgust.

“Of course, she will change the red,” Kyungsoo spoke up again, from behind the queen and in some obvious attempt to protect you from the harsh judgment. His voice held more authority than before. Perhaps it was easier to speak up when he wasn’t face to face with the full vileness of the woman who picked over your every detail with a fine tooth comb. “You are completely right. Something subtle and lovely to compliment your magnanimous generosity, Mother.”

You could taste the bile on the back of your tongue. An involuntary reaction to the heavy-handed forced compliments he hurled from his lips and yet, her shoulders lifted as she pulled her head up and her focus away from your face.

Sated, for now, by whatever flowery words he’d spewed from his lips, she left with a warning glance in his direction, taking her people with her. They followed like well-trained puppies on the heels of their master.

The press photo shoot was actually a single photographer with a lighting set up before a pretty background. They really only needed one or two good shots for the press release and after a quick makeup detour to address the red you took your spot below the bright lights standing right where the small X was drawn in masking tape on the carpet below your heels.

After not much of a pause at all, Kyungsoo joined you, standing right on the other X, having timed his appearance so perfectly you wondered if he had been secretly watching from the wings for your arrival.

You wondered if he was feeling more sober now that this was nearly over and he could return to the calm quiet of his home, or if he would resume the wild bender that this wedding rehearsal had so clearly interrupted.

You wondered if his neck was sore. You could make out faint little red moons just within his hairline, not dark enough to show through the extra makeup that had been applied, at least not from far away. You were close enough to see them. She had not broken the skin this time.

You wondered if he would ever look at you or if he would continue the charade that he somehow could simply avoid looking at you for the rest of your married life together.

You wondered a lot, but as the camera flashes went off, hot and bright in your face, you simply held your posture and smiled when the photographer called for it.

You were much more liberal with your glances in his direction without the prying lenses of the cameras catching your every minuscule facial expression in high-definition. The eyes of the still images were much less observant, and the staff that surrounded you politely looked away whenever you would let their eyes linger on your own for longer than a few seconds.

At first, the poses were all front facing. Nothing that required either of you to stand too close to each other, or face each other in any way that might require touching or eye contact. All the while, he remained compliant and silent and when you heard the photographer request an embrace, you flinched to feel the warmth of Kyungsoo’s arms wrap lightly, if not chastely, around your shoulders.

It felt downright brotherly, yet the body heat coating your back, reaching far up to coat your exposed shoulders in the gentle kind of warmth you feared you may never feel from him again in your lifetime. The surprise of the embrace made you stiffen in his arms and your face must have betrayed the shock. The camera clicks halted and the photographer popped his head up from behind his equipment to look at you.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?”

No. Not even a little bit. Thanks. You were able to force a smile, rid yourself of the wide shocked eyes for long enough for the man to be satisfied that he had not asked you to cross some line you weren’t comfortable crossing, and he resumed his work.

“Could the bride tilt her head back?” The instructions from the man had all been easy enough to follow, yet you could feel the heat from Kyungsoo’s head behind you. You could hear the steady in and out of his breathing and you knew that if you did such a thing you would certainly come into close contact with his cheek, or perhaps even his forehead.

So when you did move, it was a centimeter back at best. The photographer’s hand was raised, fingers waving in the air, urging you to lean back, to go ahead and rest your tired and weary head against the man you loved, for the sake of the picture, for the sake of the nation and their thirst for a couple deep in the fiery throes of love. Just do it.

“Come on, he’s right there, just move your head back just a little bit more.” How long had it taken you to get to this point? How many photographs had this man taken of the two of you slowly moving closer and closer to each other just so he could line you both up perfectly in this position for this one shot that you could tell he wanted quite badly.

More than anything, you wanted this photo shoot to be over. You closed your eyes and you sank. The fatigue of the day culminating into a single motion, you sank down into him, the back of your head rested lightly over a firm shoulder, when you turned into him you could feel the smooth curve of his neck on your forehead and when you dared to look there was the bounce of his Adam’s apple before you. You had to tilt back some to focus on it and the action caused you to fall further down his shoulder. You found yourself cradled in his arms, looking up into the down-cast eyes of Kyungsoo as he looked right into your face.

Your breath was lost. His dark eyes watched your face and for a second he merely looked at you with a positively lost expression in his eyes.

“Wonderful! Just like that,” the photographer shouted in glee and the camera clicked furiously, “Absolutely beautiful. I can feel the love in the way you both look at each other.”

You half expected a violent or hostile reaction from him. It loomed in the back of your mind, threatening to crash ashore in rock crushing stormy waves but Kyungsoo stood frozen as he looked into your eyes; unblinking and unmoving.

You wanted your own eyes to have a language all of their own. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. They blinked at him desperate to communicate, yet his own eyes did not know the language.

Of course, it was a mistake. Even as you did it, you knew it was a mistake. A request was whispered out somewhere in the room and perhaps they had all been whisked up into this little daydream of love when they said it, but you heard a giggle and the word kiss urged into the air. And you were out of line to lean up and press your own lips unto his soft motionless ones.

The millisecond of contact felt like salvation and damnation all in one. His reaction was that of being singed with a hot iron straight from the fire. All at once he stiffened, backtracked, and retreated. Dropping his hold on you, his arms left your side and his eyes hardened to pure blackness.

You stumbled and nearly lost your balance, only recovering long enough to catch his retreating back as he turned on a dime and walked straight out of the room.

The quiet confusion of the staff in the room quickly changed to murmurs and soon enough, acceptance as the photographer declared the photo-session to be over. He certainly seemed pleased with the shots he had gotten and you were shuttled back into that familiar dressing room to, at last, remove the corseted wedding gown.

The soft silence that filled the room inflated the air around you. Your mood, fragile before, was steadily sinking into the soft carpeting below your now bare feet. Since when had silence felt so heavy? Your corset was gone, yet you felt more suffocated now with the overabundance of so much quiet oxygen.

You were a fool. Your fingers slapped against your own lips admonishingly, scolding yourself for being so stupid and so weak. Each rough slap against your parted lips stung again and again as your fit was ignored and the dress was peeled off of you in layers. You stepped out of it when you were told to and were halfway through slipping down the slip-like underdress that you wore over your underwear when a shriek at the door of the dressing room caught you by surprise. You quickly pulled the garment up again to cover yourself. A maid was pushed aside as if she were made of no more than an empty plastic bag.

“Please, Your Highness, she is changing,” a small voice begged and pulled at the limbs of the angry man who sought you out You could hear his voice, familiar in tone and pitch, yet masked behind foul words and hateful rage.

“Leave us. Now. All of you, get out this instant.” Kyungsoo was loud and commanding and the women quickly dropped handfuls of expensive garments, shoes, jewelry where they stood and vacated the room without even sparing you a worried glance. They simply left you behind with those black eyes that sought yours with the steady aim of a sniper.

“K-Kyungsoo-“ There was a definite tremble in your voice. Whether from being caught off guard by his sudden intrusion or because of the guilt that twisted and turned inside your belly every time you looked at him, you had no way of knowing.

While you had been afforded a chance to rid yourself of the ceremony clothing during the silence that had felt so unbearable, it was clear that Kyungsoo had been too wound up for any of his maids to have a shot at stripping him of his suit. Now knowing the alternative to that silence, you felt even more like a fool for not recognizing and appreciating the reprieve you had from this madness inside of him. You longed for that silence once again. For anything but this.

He tensed and trembled as his feet moved his body back and forth in front of you, pacing like a caged tiger, his fists were clenched into tight balls and his eyes narrowed onto your face intensely, following you with each pass he made.

“You,” He lifted a finger and thrust it roughly into the air in front of your face, “Why are you here?”

His feet slowed their movement and he watched your face with his eyes wide and his lips pulled into a hard line.

“What? Kyungsoo, this is the rehearsal for the wedding.”  You knew better than to play dumb with him. You knew he wouldn't accept this as an answer and you knew this wasn’t at all what he meant by this question. You were out of moves though and you were having trouble making your mind come up with an answer to his question which would have even a diminutive impact on the emotions that had taken hold of his mind. Already crowding you in, he took another step into you and you instinctively took a step back. Your arms were already folded carefully across your belly in some futile attempt to protect yourself.

“Why are you here?” He repeated the question in a louder voice, his eyes were wider now and the clarity you saw in his black eyes as he repeated the question accentuated the seriousness of the situation.

“B-Because, I’m going to marry you, Kyungsoo, for my country, for my family, b-because I lov-“

“Bullshit.” He cut you off through clenched teeth and you saw his hands lift on either side of your face. You tried to watch them moving, glancing quickly from one side to the other before you lost sight of both hands. He was too close to you now and another step backward blanketed your back in cold Sheetrock as you ran out of room to retreat into.

“It’s the truth, I had no other motives in coming here.” You longed for more stability in your voice. You longed for a little bit of control over the ragged way your breath pulled inside your lungs audibly. You lifted a hand to lay on your own chest and closed your eyes as you willed your heart to slow down its frantic pace.

“Oh, are you going to start telling me the truth now? Is that what we are doing?”

When you opened your eyes again he was watching you, his lips pulled into a humorless grin with his teeth bared. You couldn’t keep looking into those eyes, not with the way he was watching yours so closely for any signs that you were trying to trick him. Everything about him was untrusting of you and you hated it. Behind the anger and the doubt, there was more. There was pain. So much pain was hiding inside those eyes. You wanted to close up and hide away from it all but when you tried closing your eyes you felt a firm grip of his hand on the back of your neck. His fingertips threaded themselves through your hair and he squeezed, not hard enough to cause pain, but enough for you to know that he could, if he wanted to.

“Look at me,” he growled when you tried to hide and you felt like you might just be sick all over his fancy suit. “I’m going to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth.”

“Of course,” you whispered with your eyes wide and on his, hopefully, they displayed as much honesty as you could manage. You were beginning to feel desperate and such desperation had a way of pulling the truth from your chest. At this point you just wanted him to stop looking at you like you were the enemy. He couldn't possibly believe that of you.

His lips parted to speak and nothing came out as his eyes roamed over your face. You could feel the frantic anger that had taken his sanity abating some, with you so obviously compliant to his line of questioning, his breathing had slowed down and he was working out his exact line of questioning in his head now.

“B-Before that,” his voice had dropped some and the space between your faces lengthened as he leaned away from you. This was nervous. This was hard for him to bring up, you could tell this much just by the way his eyes broke their contact with yours for a brief moment. “The tape. You haven’t watched it yet, have you?”

It didn't exactly feel like a question with the way his lips hung open and his focus darted around, never quite looking at you head on.

“O-Otherwise I don't believe you would have shown up today, if-if you saw that...if you knew what was good for you, you’d have used it against me...or you’d be gone.”

You didn't respond. The guilt and shame you felt for your actions surrounding the tape, the alleged video evidence of his mother’s murder, and by his own hand no less, it had a way of leaving you struck dumb and actionless. Hell, the stupid thing still sat in the exact same spot in your room since you’d secured the equipment to play it from Jun.

He’d gone silent when you did and you could feel the movement as his hand let go of the back of your neck and slipped off of your skin entirely. His eyes were cast down and unfocused and he blinked again and again in silence before you heard him clear his throat quietly and inhale a gasping breath to speak.

“D-Did you sleep with me that night so you could search my home for the tape?”

The heat of his hand was gone but you felt the warmth of blood rushing to the surface of the skin at the back of your neck. You could feel your pulse quicken again when you heard the question he uttered from his lips and there was a quiet ringing sounding out in your eardrums that seemed to pulse with your heartbeat.

The memory of that night was haunting you. The visions of you pretending to be drunker than you were so you could gain access to his home, so you could begin your search for the tape. It was so clear, the look of acquiescence on his face as he gave in to your silly drunken requests and allowed you to spend the night with him. The show you had put on when you were caught the first time.

I have a headache. I was looking for aspirin.

Lie after lie that tumbled from your lips like an avalanche that night and Kyungsoo, weak to you, falling for every word. You could still remember the smell of him on your skin and the sounds of love from his lips.

You were acutely aware that your silence, incriminating as hell, was going on for too long and you felt like you might actually be sick if you had to answer for the lies you had told him.

His eyes stopped their blinking and he looked at you and from where you stood you could see the raw pain on his face. He breathed through his nose and his bottom lip twitched involuntarily as he waited and watched you stand in complete silence.

And then he was trembling. It matched the shaking you felt within your own chest and you closed your eyes again when your eyes began burning too much for you to bear.

“Why won't you answer me?” His voice was hoarse and interrupted by a small crack in confidence. “Did you fuck me that night in order to search my home? Did you pretend to be drunk so I brought you home and then when I caught you...you...fuck, how could you be this cruel?”

His hands were up, covering his own face with his fingertips pressed hard into his closed eyes and you could feel your own resolve crumbling. You were shaking your head, or it was moving on its own, a desperate plea with your own memories that somehow that hadn’t been what happened when inside you knew your memory of that night was intact.

You told him you would tell him the truth. Yet the truth, this truth felt worse than any other possible alternative. This truth painted you as the worst kind of scum. The worst evil villain who he had yet to encounter. You had taken the love he had given you and used it for your own purposes and left him an empty shell of a person, broken and lost as he tried in vain to piece together the lies you had fed him for answers. And after you got what you wanted from him, you merely took it and left him to clean up the wreckage.

“Yes. Yes, I did. I’m sorry,” you whispered through the tears that dripped down your face and you heard a gasp from him. You deserved to feel this pain too. You had broken your own heart when you shattered his.

When his lungs had pulled in as much air as they could stand his fist flew hard into the wall behind your head and you closed your eyes as you braced for the impact. It was loud. His face contorted in agony and he screamed as the violence and anger took hold of his limbs and his fists pounded into the wall next to your head. You cried out, hurling your hands over your head to protect yourself. You curled into your own body to hide from it, to hide from his pain that had found an outlet in a swift fist smashed again and again into crumbling sheetrock.

You had made your way out of the path of his fist and uncovered your head to the sounds of his silent heavy breathing. Out of concern, out of habit your eyes flew over his body, assessing the damage that he had done to himself this time and you saw flowing red from the battered knuckles of his right hand, the same hand that you noticed the wounds on before and you reached.

You reached and the tips of your fingers contacted the wet sticky warmth of his hand a second before you felt the swift swing of that same arm lift up hard to escape your touch.

“Don't.” He hissed and you grabbed at the air in front of you with your now empty hands before opening them in front of you to show him that you wouldn’t. “I’ll have you arrested for treason. That’s what this is. You’ve—fuck, you stole...lied...used me...”

You could hear the disconnect in his speech and your stomach churned as his betrayal gave voice to plans for revenge. He didn’t have long to formulate any solid plan for what exactly your punishment would be when the door of the dressing room swung open wide and three members of the security team burst through the door. Their faces were controlled despite the scene they uncovered with their intrusion and your eyes caught the worried glance of Jun who stood in the center of the small group of brave men who would dare intrude on a royal matter such as this one.

The men bowed at the waist, apologies for the blatant interruption all over Jun’s lips and when he lifted his head, Jun’s eyes seemed to linger over your form for longer than necessary. Watching his face, it was clear he was looking for injuries. Jun had heard the noise in this room and was concerned for your well being. Was this the reason why they had come in here? Surely he couldn’t be so naive.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo demanded an answer and Jun took a step forward with an envelope in his hand. Whatever he had in that little package had better be mighty important to warrant such behavior. Kyungsoo looked down at the package that was thrust into his hand. “Can't this wait?”

“There has been a development, Your Highness. In the case of May Kim, the body found in the trunk of the car has been positively identified. The dental records match, Sir. It’s her.”

No. You clenched down hard on your teeth and closed your eyes. No, it was not May. You knew from Baekhyun and Sehun that the dental records from the body taken from the morgue had been planted in May’s childhood dentist’s office as part of the cover-up. It must have taken Kyungsoo’s investigators a few days to obtain the records for testing and now, they had fallen for the ploy, just as the two princes had planned.

No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t true. How many more lies did you have hidden inside your body that you would be forced to face later once they were uncovered? How much more must you keep from him?

“A-And… the baby was...as well?” It was a whispered question in Kyungsoo’s broken voice and Jun’s face grimaced before he nodded his head.

“Of course, it would have been too young to survive,” Jun said.

“Leave,” Kyungsoo said weakly to the men and Jun looked into your face once more before nodding his head and leaving the room.

You felt broken, bruised, battered, and sick of the lies you had been filled up with. You had to tell him. Could you tell him? Did you dare? The deception had been Sehun’s to save his love from certain death. To save his unborn child. If you told Kyungsoo of the lies now who would be thrown to the gallows in her place? You? Sehun? Baekhyun?

Your mind was churning in the silence that followed Jun’s exit. Kyungsoo was motionless, his back leaning against the very wall he had so wildly beaten until his fist was broken and bloodied and he looked as if the life had simply vanished from his eyes. He was frozen with the corner of the envelope clutched in between his index finger and thumb until gravity won and its contents spilled out onto the floor at his feet.

There were reports of some kind. There were results. And there were pictures too gruesome for anyone to stomach and with their unapologetic display, the man slipped slowly, he let his legs give out and he crumbled like an empty sack, used up and discarded. When his head dropped, his chin met his sternum and the pain flew freely from his crumpled face. And he was weeping. Openly and desolately.

“It’s my fault,” He cried, “-the baby. May. It’s all my fault. I did this. I’m the monster.”

No.

No, Kyungsoo. You didn’t do this. This wasn’t you. It’s not May. That’s not May. May is alive. May is safe. You are being tricked. This is the only way they can save her and the baby.

The words begged and pleaded on the tip of your tongue to be told.

But not a single sound would come out of your mouth.

The Price of Privilege [M]: - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11, part 12 , part 13 , part 14, part 15

[obsessedwithegos]

Ya know- when I first made Eldryth I said I was never gonna draw her again.

Now here I am drawing her for the Reversed Royalty AU <3

[obsessedwithegos]

Alistair: I’m not risking my head because I accidentally kidnapped a prince, I’m taking you back tomorrow.

Prince Thei: But what if I don’t wanna?

Alistair: