#queen of the world who i adore with the same intensity as a child adores a shooting star

[luminoushane]

The way I talk about Amity Blight is funny

[iwritefandomimagines]

SWEETHEART — ARTHUR PENDRAGON

masterlist

→ pairing: arthur pendragon x princess!reader

→ description: as a child, you had spent countless summers in camelot, your whole youth characterised by infatuation with arthur pendragon. though the feeling was mutual, your responsibilities as princess of your own kingdom meant that you had not returned in years. arthur had always held hope that one day you would reunite — but when you do, news of your betrothal leads him to believe he may have lost you forever.

→ warnings: angst at first, happy ending!!, merlin being a little shit stirring prat (who i adore).

“So this is the Princess Y/N we’re talking about here?”

Arthur scoffed at his friend’s teasing grin, rolling his eyes at the way Merlin’s arms crossed over his chest.

“The same Princess Y/N with whom you’ve been in love for… quite possibly all of eternity? Who you’ve spoken of constantly since we met? Who you’ve not seen in years except for in your dreams?”

“Alright, alright, Merlin,” Arthur warned, “Yes it is that Princess Y/N. And you’re not to say a word to her. I have waited a long time for this moment and you will not ruin this for me.”

Merlin smirked, uncrossing his arms to raise them in a show of surrender, “I won’t, I won’t.”

There was a moment of silence — Arthur pausing to heave in a deep breath as it dawned on him that you really had just arrived back in Camelot.

It had been almost five years since he had seen you.

Your father and his had been close friends and allies since their own childhood, and so you and Arthur had grown incredibly close.

Too close, perhaps.

You were his first love, and he yours, and having given each other all of your firsts you had both assumed that one day you might wed and rule both of your kingdoms together.

Instead, you had not been back in so long that he had begun to fear you never would.

As the only child in a rare kingdom accepting of a female heir, you had been in training to become queen upon your father’s death since you reached 17.

As a result, you’d not had the free time to visit Camelot, much to your dismay. Arthur too hadn’t been able to visit you, and so contact had ceased entirely as you went about your busy lives.

To say you missed Arthur was an understatement — he had been your absolute world.

From the days of chasing him through castle grounds and giggling under tables, to the days of lovelorn stares and stolen kisses, the arrogant prince would remain the love of your life for as long as you would live. You were certain of that.

And to now be returning to Camelot after all of this time, you were utterly terrified — even more so given the news that you were returning to share.

As soon as you caught sight of Arthur amidst the throng of knights your heart raced impossibly fast; Faster even than it already was at the thought of seeing him.

Now, it was real.

“Is that her?” Merlin pointed a finger directly at you, causing Arthur to twist on his heel and spot you and your guards (though not before grabbing Merlin’s finger and twisting his arm for daring to point at you).

Your pace quickened as you watched his eyes widen, and leapt straight into his arms when you reached him, though you knew this was not something you should be doing in public — even if you were tucked away where only the other Knights of Camelot (and Merlin) could see the encounter.

“My Lord,” you beamed, pulling back from the embrace to take in the sight of the man before you. A man still just as perfect as he once was.

“My Lady,” he smiled, his cheeks rosy as the sound of your voice washed over him still, though he would claim it was due to the cold, “I—I almost fear that I am simply imagining you or that it cannot possibly be you.”

You giggled, biting your lip as you felt his eyes linger intensely on yours, “It’s me, Artie. The same old Princess Y/N/N. Could we talk, perhaps, in private?”

He quirked his brow as he looked down at you, before nodding and leading you elsewhere. You noticed what you assumed to be his servant following close behind, but Arthur dismissed him with haste and he hovered seemingly just out of earshot instead, “Don’t worry about Merlin. I’ll introduce you after.”

You grinned nervously, still taken aback by even being in his presence.

“Little has changed, I see,” he laughed, before leaning to whisper, “You are still as beautiful as ever.”

“Unfortunately, Arthur, that— that’s why I am here,” you frowned at the ground, refusing to catch his eye again, “In fact, a lot has changed.”

“What do you mean, my love?”

“Arthur I—, I—, I have come here to bestow an invitation upon you.”

Arthur’s face twisted in further confusion, a frown set on his face as your words worried him, “An invitation?”

“To my wedding,” you gulped, watching the colour drain from his features as you spoke the dreaded words, “I am to be married in a fortnight.”

Arthur took a step back and you could now no longer feel his breath fanning across your face. You had waited an age to be reunited and to be doing so on these terms was agonising.

“This must be a joke, Princess. Tell me it’s a joke. Please, tell me it’s a joke?”

The tears that had been pricking at your eyes fell freely now as the weight of your confession crashed down upon you.

You would never love a man like you loved Arthur — it was an impossibility and you knew it. Your betrothal was merely the result of your father’s ill health and the influence of your fiancé - his closest advisor.

You were all but trapped in this engagement, and you had to make that clear to Arthur.

Your father had intended to send his Knights to invite the Prince and King Uther, but you had insisted upon breaking the news yourself.

Some small piece of you hoped that Arthur would object so profusely that he would instead beg for your hand — because you knew your father’s love for Camelot might outweigh the influence of Lord F/N and he might change his mind.

But you feared that this was merely a pipe dream, knowing that Arthur’s pride might in fact act as a barrier to his honesty.

He had missed you immeasurably too, of course, and Merlin’s prying eyes and ears couldn’t let Arthur be so silly. He might know Arthur to be a prat, but he wasn’t about to let him waste his chance at getting you back.

Besides, he knew he wouldn’t be able to cope with the moping.

“Arthur, I’m sorry—,”

“Who is it? Who is he?”

“I don’t—,”

“I must know.”

“It— I— I am to be wed to Lord F/N…”

Arthur’s face almost seemed to wash with relief for a moment, before the former strained expression returned. Sure — he could assume you weren’t in love with your betrothed, but regardless you were getting married to a man that wasn’t him.

“Is this a strategic marriage, would you say?” Trust Merlin to interject so impertinently and at such an awkward time.

You looked taken aback, perplexed by the servant boy’s apparent lack of manners, “Excuse me?”

“Apologies, my Lady, but I only ask for the Prince’s sake because I fear he won’t, and I know he wants to. Desperately, actually,” the cheeky grin on his face and Arthur’s wide eyes told you this behaviour was not unusual of him, “Is this marriage purely for the sake of your kingdom, then? Or a love match?”

Of course he knew the answer. It was clear as day — every bordering kingdom knew of your father’s declining health, and of Lord F/N having worked his way up to become his closest confidante.

“Artie— You know I love my father dearly,” you were practically pleading with him as you began to answer, addressing him instead of his servant, “And he cares for Lord F/N. I do hope that one day I might love him. Until then… Well, you have to understand that I have no choice.”

The frown on Arthur’s face was an agonising sight for you to see.

“I’m surprised there was no marriage alliance between your kingdom and Camelot, my Lady,” Merlin continued, still smirking, and Arthur elbowed him in the side, “Ow! I’m just saying… I’m sure the King would have obliged. His heir, wedded to a woman who will also be Queen in her own right. Two kingdoms so aligned. More power. Seems a no brainer to me. But eh, a wedding is a wedding to me! Even if it should be Arthur you’re marrying.”

Arthur looked distraught by Merlin’s outburst.

You couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Right. Leaving you to it. I’ll be just over there.”

Arthur shooting daggers at him had clearly finally hit him, and he scampered off, leaving you and Arthur staring intensely into each other’s eyes.

“Do you think…” you began, your voice barely a whisper as you looked down at your feet for a moment, “Do you think that he is right? Your servant? Do you share his belief that our fathers would agree to such an idea?”

Arthur fought the twitch of a smile threatening to erupt on his face now that you’d expressed even the slightest hope that that could be an option for you.

“I do,” he nodded, capturing your hands in his as he spoke, “And I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t hoped I might have the chance to propose that while you were here. I’m not the childish boy I once was — well, for the most part — and to marry the woman I love as well as strengthening my kingdom? I can think of nothing I’d like more.”

You tried desperately to suppress the butterflies in your stomach at the sound of the words “The woman I love.”

“But would King Uther agree?”

Arthur scoffed, “My father despises Lord F/N, the meddlesome bloody fool. He would have us married today if it pushed that man into obscurity. He’s the reason our kingdoms have become so much less closely allied in recent years. Our fathers rarely see each other because of his interventions.”

You gulped, taking stock of what he had just said and pondering what this might mean.

“And that’s the truth?”

“Would I ever lie to you, Y/N/N?”

At this you sighed — you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he was always honest with you, even if you were the only person who ever had the fortune of being graced with this honesty.

You glanced around you, acknowledging that nobody was looking but your guards, and pulled him behind a wall nearby into the quiet of where Merlin had previously been lurking.

Your hands found his jaw and you tiptoed to kiss him, breathless at the spontaneity of your actions. He was quick to kiss back (and as good of a kisser as you remembered!) and before you knew it he had your back against the wall and deepened the kiss with parted lips.

You were like this for a few moments, before you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the fast thrum of his heartbeat, and shot him a beaming smile.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Where might we find your father?”

———

ok so i had so much fun writing that !!! i hope you enjoyed, i could make this a two parter if anyone would want? (either about them discussing w uther or about the wedding itself? please let me know if you’d like either of those!)

requests are still open as i’m finally back writing, but in the meantime here is my masterlist!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To Mama Rosehearts: (calmly but sarcastically) Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Rosehearts. How do you do on this fine day? Forgive me for staring but I must say, you look quite stunning, madame. Your haircut really suits your face. (Mama Rosehearts asks about Riddle) Riddle? Oh don't worry about him, he's doing fine. He always had a knack for keeping things under control. Unlike some people.

Aaaand here’s the big one… the final boss of Family Day…

I tried to write this with a nuanced look at Mama Rosehearts, as I felt this was the most fitting for TWST’s themes of grey morality (which also comes through in the OB boys). No one is truly 100% evil, and I didn’t want to just have her screaming at other people 💦

Mama Rosehearts’s parenting methods are overly controlling, she’s uncompromising, and she has a bad temper. But in her eyes, she believes what she’s doing is genuinely the best for her son, and she’s also protective of him. She absolutely cares for Riddle in spite of her strictness. I wanted those aspects of her character to be present too, not just the worst parts of her that we tend to hate.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The problem with bad apples, you sometimes thought to yourself (blame Epel for sticking the apple metaphors in your head), is that they appear so normal at a glance. It’s hard to tell they’re rotten until you’ve had a close look for yourself.

Gazing at Mrs. Rosehearts, you’re shaken. Your mental image of her, cobbled together by hushed words and wisps of shadow, was always that of a monster—the kind that caged children and relished in feeding them lies, keeping them ensnared and submissive. Mother knows best. Listen to your mother. It’s a scary world out there.

She stood before you in blood red heels, wrapped in a smart business suit and modest pencil skirt in the same shade. Her hands were adorned in tulle gloves, sheer enough to grant a glimpse at her immaculate nails. Arms folded, head high, she was poised like an imposing queen before delivering her judgment.

Her eyes a blue-grey, red hair tightly pulled back and secured by a hair clasp. Even her bangs were cut the same, two locks atop her head curling into a heart-like shape. Mrs. Rosehearts was the spitting image of Riddle—or was it more accurate to say that he was a spitting image of her?

But if she was a monster, and Riddle, the same as her…

The terrified expressions of Heartslabyul students blitzed through your mind. The garden and its roses falling apart around them.

“He… He was really gonna do it…”

“He’s completely out of control.”

“He’s like some kinda monster!”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. They quivered, burning with an indescribable intensity.

“Hello.” Her first came clipped, cutting right by your greeting and fabricated compliment. “I can’t say I care for your tone of voice.”

Mrs. Rosehearts diverted her attention from you and to the young man standing in her shadow. “Riddle. They seem know you, but surely this one doesn’t belong to your dormitory?”

You could barely recognize him. The Riddle you knew was serious and strict—but he was also someone who loved to tend to the hedgehogs, and adored tea parties in the garden. His smile could practically make the flowers bloom.

But now he was less of a blossoming rose and more of a shrinking violet, most traces of his confidence wiped away. He diligently trailed behind his mother, appearing even smaller than usual. Meeker, and less sure of himself.

A remnant of Riddle. Not a rose-red ruler, but just a sad little child.

You stared at him helplessly, and he refused to meet your eyes.

“No, mother.” A trained, automatic response. “They are not a student of Heartslabyul.”

“I thought so,” Mrs. Rosehearts sniffed, unimpressed but satisfied. She silently noted your untucked shirt, stray hair, and crooked tie. “They’re far too ungroomed to be someone under your rule.

“And here I was, worrying that you had fallen in with the wrong crowd again. You aren’t still hanging around those horrid Clover and Pinker boys, are you?”

Trey and Che’nya. Your stomach churned, upset for them in their absence.

“Well…” Riddle fidgeted uneasily. Unable to tell a lie, and lacking the courage to tell the truth.

You took the chance to cut in, your eyes close to burning a hole in his mother. “Oh, don't worry about him. Riddle’s doing fine. He’s always had a knack for keeping things under control, unlike some people.”

Mrs. Rosehearts frowned at the insinuation. Her next words could make flowers freeze over. “You’d do well to learn some control yourself. This conversation is between a mother and her son.”

She placed a protective hand on his upper back and gave a slight nudge. “Come, Riddle. We wouldn’t want to be late to speak with your professors.“

“Yes…” He reluctantly turned away from you, trying to focus on the road head. At the path already chosen for him.

You couldn’t help yourself. Your feet fell forward, and you called after him.

“Riddle…!!”

“That’s quite enough,” Mrs. Rosehearts snapped. Her cheeks colored red with rage as she stepped between you and Riddle. “I don’t know who you think you are, sticking your nose in our affairs like this!! I won’t have another unruly child and their bad attitude invading my son’s life—not again!”

Anger surged in your chest. There were so many things you wanted to tell her, things she couldn’t possibly know because she never bothered to entertain them.

Riddle likes strawberry tarts. He doesn’t care if the roses are white, or if the flamingos are pink. And he prefers honey to sugar cubes in his tea, and milk tea over lemon tea. After a meal, he wants to sits and talk with everyone.

The smart thing to do, you thought, is to bite my tongue, or else it’ll just lead to a pointless screaming match.

But you weren’t so smart. Your opened your mouth, prepares to let loose a torrent to challenge her.

What rang out instead, loud and clear, was a boy’s authoritative voice.

“Excuse me, mother!”

"Yes, Riddle? You have something to add?"

“I..." He caught his still-quivering words and straightened. A quiet resolve burned in his steely eyes. "Those selected by the Mirror of Darkness boast exceptional potential and strong moral character. That holds true for myself, as well as my peers. I will not underestimate them, and nor should you."

Mrs. Rosehearts pursed her lips.

"They are worthy rivals that are deserving of respect," Riddle continued, "and they will continue to push me to excel. That is all I wished to say.

"Now then, we should be on our way. We're running late for a very important date with the teaching staff."

His mother looked as though she had a rebuttal, with her brows knitted and the color of her mouth vanishing. Riddle held his breath—and you weren’t sure if it was safe to take one.

"... We will discuss this at a later time," she declared at last. “We need to stay on schedule.”

Riddle released the air in his lungs, and you took a sharp intake.

Mrs. Rosehearts turned away, tossing an icy farewell to the wind. “Good day to you.”

She led her son down the street, saying something to him in a hushed tone. You couldn’t tell what sort of expression Riddle was making, but he held his head high the entire time, like a defiant rosebud in a bed of snow.

When they had finally disappeared into the horizon, you let yourself smile. He’s come into his own… even if just a little.

[filhadoboto]

Falling for You

SUMMARY: The intense cold of the North forces Daenerys to take possession of Jon Snow's cloak. (rating: E)

Written for "Jonerys Falling for You 2023" - Day 1 - Wearing his cloak

@iceandfirejonerysdiscord

AO3

Chapter 1 - Wrap me in your arms

“You are wearing my cloak, Your Majesty.” said a familiar voice from behind her and Daenerys Targaryen smiled “And I see that my direwolf prefers your company over mine.”

She looked to the side where Ghost, his direwolf, lay asleep at her feet, sharing his body heat with her. Dany had been amazed the first time she saw Ghost. He was much bigger than she had imagined and, if she hadn't been used to living with gigantic animals, it would have been very difficult to get used to the direwolf following her everywhere as if he were her second shadow.

Dany heard his footsteps approaching her, and when he stood side by side with her before the weirwood tree, she said “I grew up and lived in Essos, Lord Snow. My body is not used to this climate and I fear that even my warmest clothes are not enough to keep me warm. And Ghost volunteered to keep me warm and your cape was abandoned in your study, so I assumed you didn't need it as much as I did.”

Only then did she look at him and see that he was already looking at her. There was something in his gray eyes. Pride? Satisfaction? Presumption? Definitely a mix of all three. Jon Snow was loving seeing her wearing his cape and being protected by his direwolf. And she couldn't deny that she was enjoying it too, to feel protected and cared for.

Not that she didn't feel protected by Ser Barristan and the others in her Queensguard, as well as her Bloodriders and her dragons. She knew that each of them would give their lives for hers, that they would follow her to the death, but the way she felt about Jon and Ghost was similar to the way she felt when Ser Willem or Viserys hugged her when she was a child. It was a feeling of belonging, as if she had finally found her place in the world.

“Even if I needed it, I wouldn’t dare take it from you, Your Majesty.” he said.

She drew his cloak even tighter around her body so that only her face was still exposed to the cold wind and his watchful gray eyes followed her every movement.

“You look adorable, my queen.” he added in a flirtatious tone and there was adoration in his eyes.

Dany felt her cheeks heating up and gave him a shy smile, feeling more like a shy and inexperienced girl in front of her first love than what she really was: a queen who had brought dragons back to the world, freed slaves and convinced the Dothraki warriors to cross the narrow sea talking to one of her vassals.

That must have been the reaction he was hoping to elicit from her, for he gave her a satisfied smile as he watched her with his hungry gray eyes.

“If it is to your liking, I will ask that clothes more appropriate for the cold of the North be arranged for you, Your Majesty, and your handmaids. I believe they are experiencing the same inconvenience.” he offered in a courteous tone.

“I appreciate your kindness, my Lord.” she said with a grateful smile “I will continue using your cloak for now. I promised Lady Arya I'd take her flying this afternoon, and even riding a dragon, I'm going to need the extra heat up there.”

Since her arrival in the North, she used to fly every day with her dragons both to reconnoitre the region and for her dragons to familiarize themselves with the territory and Arya, as her guide, almost always accompanied her.

He smiled when he heard her mention his sister and her heart skipped a beat.

“She told me about it. I have never seen her so excited in my entire life.” he commented in a tender and caring tone.

From the first moment she saw Jon Snow, the then King in the North, and Arya Stark, standing in Dragonstone's throne room, Dany knew they were very attached to each other. If she hadn't known beforehand who they were, she would have thought they were twin sibilings due to their physical resemblance and the fact that they seemed to move in sync with each other. And the weeks that passed between that first meeting and now had only reinforced that impression.

She couldn't deny that she had felt a little envious of their relationship in the early days. While Jon would give his own life to protect his little sister and Arya would also not hesitate to kill anyone who tried to hurt her family, especially Jon, Viserys had sold her and would not hesitate to hurt and sacrifice her if it would bring him closer to getting back the throne of Westeros. Jon was extremely protective and affectionate towards Arya and she shared the same characteristics as her brother, not to mention that they were so in tune with each other that they even used to finish each other's sentences.

Dany had never had a relationship like that with her brother or anyone else really, but during their stay at Dragonstone, Dany and Arya had become very close, shared stories of the journey that had led them there, and quickly realized that they had a lot in common. In one of their first conversations alone, the northern girl had confided that she had been very happy when she heard what Dany had done in what was now called the Bay of Dragons.

The girl was intelligent and cunning and her ferocity soon won over her Bloodriders to the point that Arya managed to convince them to teach her how to wield an arakh and how to fight on horseback like a Dothraki warrior. Perhaps because they were the same age, Arya and Missandei had gotten along very well and the scribe had taken upon herself the task of teaching her Dothraki and perfecting her High Valyrian and Arya, in return, was teaching her everything she knew about Westeros.

After everything the two had told her about the threat beyond the Wall and shown her, even Dany herself had decided it was time to learn how to wield a sword and the two siblings had helped with her training along with Ser Barristan. Not to mention that seeing with her own eyes one of the creatures they had taken with them to Dragonstone had made it abundantly clear that they needed to unify Westeros as quickly as possible or they would have no chance of saving its people.

“This cloak is from my time as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, made to keep us warm even in the cold beyond the Wall.” he explained “I would be honored if you accepted it as a gift.” he offered. “I can ask one of our seamstresses to adjust it to your size.”

He knew her own handmaids could make the adjustments, but she was happy for his concern and care.

Dany gave him a grateful smile “I accept the gift and don't worry about the adjustments. It is perfect the way it is.”

I want everyone who sees me with it to know that it is yours., she thought, but didn't speak.

She saw his cheeks redden and he said, “As you wish, Dany.”

The memory of a stormy night in Dragonstone filled her mind when she heard him call her that way.

Jon had bent the knee a few days ago and, like his sister, was helping her with her plan to take back the Iron Throne and unify Westeros before she could focus all her attention and resources on the war in the North. She was in the Chamber of the Painted Table watching the storm, her thoughts going over the stories her brother and Ser Willem had told about her birth and about Westeros and, because of that and of the noise of the storm, Dany hadn't heard Jon come in and approach her until he was practically beside her. She had seen his shadow before she saw him, and for a few seconds she had feared that some assassin sent by her enemies had managed to get past her guards and get to her. But then she recognized him and felt her body relax and fill with relief.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, my Queen.” he had said “The guards let me in and you seemed lost in your thoughts when I entered.”

She had given him a smile and nodded before asking “What brings you here so late, my Lord?”

“I wanted to inform you that we have started mining obsidian.” he had replied “If we can keep up the pace we will be able to send the first shipment to the North in a week. And, as soon as weapons are ready, we can start distributing them among the brothers of the Watch in the castles spread across the Wall.”

The Night's Watch and the Wall were their first line of defense against the Others, and so they had agreed that they should send the obsidian there first.

She nodded and lightning struck near the window, scaring them both. Perhaps out of battle reflex or just instinct, Jon had pulled her away from the window and kept her pressed against his body until he realized what he had done. But instead of letting her go, he had looked into her eyes as the rumble of thunder roared around them and reverberated through the castle.

There was something so familiar about his face and his eyes, something that made her feel drawn to him in a way she had never felt drawn to anyone else before. With his arms wrapped around her body, Dany felt safe, as if she had finally found something she had been searching for for as long as she could remember: her home.

Her hands that had rested on his chest slowly slid up to his neck, her eyes never leaving his, and she heard herself asking, “Kiss me, Jon.”

His eyes widened and he looked at her lips and back to her eyes before saying in a voice barely audible over the noise of the storm, “I'm afraid I won't be able to stop if I kiss you, Dany.”

She felt a shiver run through her body when she heard it and said “I’m willing to take the risk if you are too.”

Jon looked into her eyes while one of his hands rested on her cheek and his thumb slowly traced the outline of her lower lip. Slowly, perhaps to give her the chance to stop him, Jon leaned toward her and Dany stood on tiptoe to meet him halfway. Their lips met and Jon pressed his own against hers slowly, in a chaste, hesitant kiss, as if he was afraid she would disappear. Her fingers intertwined with his hair and she pressed him against her, giving him access to her mouth and intensifying the kiss.

He then kissed her so desperately, her body curving and molding to his, that it made her feel scared for a few seconds, but then she realized that this was exactly what she wanted and kissed him back with the same desperation. Without breaking the kiss, Jon's arms wrapped around her waist and then he lifted her off the floor and sat her on the edge of the Painted Table.

Jon had broken the kiss and whispered against her lips. “I've wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you sitting on that throne.”

She had smiled and her heart had been beating so fast that she had feared it would burn a hole in her chest and throw itself into his hands. Before she could say anything, Jon had kissed her again and any rational thought had left her mind. For a few minutes, or perhaps hours, they both laid aside the heavy burdens of leadership and survival in Westeros and allowed themselves to be just a girl and a boy experiencing the taste of their first kisses and with their entire lives ahead of them. They did nothing but exchange fiery kisses and sizzling caresses that night, even though they were both burning with desire.

And from the way he looked at her now she had no doubt that he was remembering the same thing as her.

Would it be disrespectful to the old gods if I kissed him there in that sacred place?, she thought, looking quickly at the weirwood tree and then at his lips.

As if he could read her thoughts, Jon closed the distance between them and kissed her. Before she could even think about reacting, her arms had already wrapped around his neck and she returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Dany wished they were somewhere more private, preferably with a bed, as her body burned.

In the weeks that passed until their arrival at Winterfell they had little chance to be alone and, in the rare moments when this happened, on the rare occasions when they could touch each other freely, someone always interrupted them before they had time to do anything other than exchange passionate kisses and sizzling caresses. And since their arrival at Winterfell almost a week ago, this was the first time they had been able to be alone.

This time they were interrupted by Ghost. The direwolf growled softly and the two broke the kiss.

“Someone is coming this way.” he explained looking towards the entrance of the godswood.

Dany couldn't see anyone, but she knew a lot about the strong connection that there was between Jon and Ghost, how he could enter the direwolf's mind, and that at that moment, Jon probably already knew who was approaching because Ghost knew who it was from their scent.

She nodded and forced herself to take a step away from him, her body already missing the warmth of his and his lips against hers.

“Aren’t you afraid of offending your gods?” she asked.

He looked at the weirwood tree and looked at her. “I’m not. I'm sure they've seen a lot worse than a man and a woman kissing, Dany.” he replied and gave her a suggestive smile. “As the gods of nature, anything we do before them would be seen as natural by them.”

A few seconds later Jon's younger brother, Lord Rickon, accompanied by his direwolf, joined them.

The boy greeted them and said “A raven arrived from King’s Landing and Sam asked me to give it to one of you.”

He handed the message to his brother, Jon took the small scroll and, after reading the message, said “Lady Brienne has written to let us know that she, Ser Jaime and the Southern army are ready and will leave for the North tomorrow. She also reports the number of men they had managed to gather.”

The Tyrell and Martell had allied with her even before she left Essos, and with the threat beyond the Wall, they also understood that Westeros needed to unite to survive. The army of Dorne had arrived in King's Landing three days earlier and the army of the West was to join them at the Trident.

She nodded. “We’d better inform the others.” she said.

“Arya is in the training yard with Osha, Meera and Missandei. Bran is with Sam. And Ser Davos, Ser Barristan and Lord Tyrion are with Gendry at the Forge.” informed Rickon “I’ll call them.”

“Thank you brother.” said Jon and the boy ran through the godswood with his direwolf in pursuit.

Jon had lost his older siblings, the brother had been betrayed by his vassals and the sister, after betraying her own family, had been executed in the Valley accused of treason and murder. But he had managed to find the three youngest again and, little by little, they were remaking their bonds and relearning how to be a family.

Dany smiled as Jon took her hand and placed a kiss on her gloved palm. It was easy to pretend there wasn't a war ahead as they walked back to the fortress hand in hand.

---

Hours had passed since their meeting in the godswood and Dany could still feel the feeling of his lips against hers, the heat of his body against hers. Not even the adrenaline of flying with her dragons through the Northern skies had managed to dull the memory of the warmth of his skin against hers.

She thought about going to him, but she didn't know if he was in his quarters or somewhere else in the fortress. She looked at the direwolf lying comfortably in front of the fireplace and had an idea.

She went to him, knelt down and said “Ghost, I need your help.” the direwolf immediately focused his attention on her and Dany continued “I need you to find Jon and bring him to me.”

Ghost got up and walked to the closed door. Before allowing him to leave, she stroked his ear and repeated, “Bring Jon to me.”

The animal licked her hand and she let him out. She told her guards that she was waiting for Jon and that they should allow him to pass.

Dany took a deep breath, feeling nervousness begin to spread through her body. To fend it off and continue carrying out her plan, Dany took a sip of mulled wine. The heat from the drink helped her and she began to take off her clothes. When she finished she undid the braid Irri had made and placed Jon's cape over her naked body. About fifteen minutes later she heard a light scratching at her door followed by the voice of a confused Jon. She smiled and opened the door.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” he said “Ghost practically dragged me here.”

She looked at the direwolf who was watching them intently and said, “Thank you for the favor, Ghost.” she patted his head “You’re a great boy!”

Jon watched the scene looking even more confused, which made her conclude that Ghost hadn't let him see what she had asked him to do, and she gestured for him to come inside. He complied and, after closing and locking the door, she turned to him and explained “I asked Ghost to bring you to me.”

His face filled with concern “Did something happen, Dany? Was someone disrespectful to you?”

She gave him a serene smile. “No, everyone has treated me with the respect and deference that their queen deserves.” she replied “Actually I need your help.”

"Anything." he said.

She looked him in the eyes for a few seconds and took a step and then another towards him. “I need help taking off your cloak.” she said in an innocent tone and his eyes fell on the strings that held the cloak together. The cape was held in place by a simple loop and all he had to do was pull one of its ends to release it.

The two were silent for what seemed like an eternity and her heart quickened when his eyes met hers. With two steps Jon closed the distance between them, his eyes still on hers. Her body immediately reacted to the proximity of his. Slowly, Jon brought his hands to the strings of his cloak and, only then, did his gaze shift to the task. He held both ends of the bow while Dany kept her eyes on his face and could see that his cheeks were flushed.

Triumph filled her body as Jon pulled on both ends of the noose and Dany let the cape fall behind her. His eyes widened when he saw that she was naked and she smiled with satisfaction when his gaze slowly wandered over her naked body, as if he were memorizing every detail. Even though the room was warm, Dany felt her body shiver when his eyes met hers again.

She saw Jon swallow hard before saying, “May I be of further service to you, my Queen?”

“Oh, I do not wish to prevent you from returning to your responsibilities, my Lord.” she replied in an innocent tone.

Jon gave her a mischievous smile before saying “There is nothing more important at the moment than serving my queen in whatever she needs.”

She smiled in satisfaction. “In that case, I would love for you to help me finish what we started so many months ago on that stormy night in Dragonstone.”

Jon gave her an incendiary smile before saying, “Your wish is my command, my Queen.” he closed the distance between them, placed his hands on her face and whispered “My Dany.”

Being called that way made her feel wanted and safe and her body shuddered when his lips touched the skin of her neck. Jon placed soft kisses on her skin interspersed with whispers of 'my Dany', his hands caressing her waist and when he knelt before her, she looked at him in confusion.

He gave her a serene smile before saying, “Let me worship you like the goddess you are.” She nodded and he kissed the valley between her breasts.

His warm, soft lips against her skin left a trail of heat as he trailed down her abdomen and lower and lower, past her belly until he reached the silvery hairs between her legs. Jon looked at her, his fully dilated pupils made him even more beautiful, and said, “I have fantasized and dreamed of this moment so many times.”

That was one more thing they had in common. She had been attracted to him from the moment she saw him and after what happened between them that stormy night in Dragonstone she had spent a lot of time daydreaming and fantasizing about the man on his knees before her. However, none of her fantasies had come close to the perfection of what was happening.

“You weren’t the only one who spent hours awake fantasizing.” she admitted and Jon gave her a smile that almost made her heart stop.

His lips kissed her thighs and Dany felt the wetness between her legs increasing. She moaned softly when he used his tongue to lick up that wetness and before she could recover, Jon focused his attention on her clit. It didn't take long for his attention and skill to bring her to orgasm and Jon held her while Dany let herself be swept away by the wave of pleasure. When she opened her eyes, Jon was still on his knees watching her with a proud smile and hungry eyes.

“You’re so sweet, Dany.” he said.

Her hands cupped his face and she leaned in to kiss him.

“I knew you were a man of many talents, Jon.” she said against his lips “But I never knew your tongue was so good at anything other than convincing people to do things your way.” Jon smiled against her lips and she continued, “I can't help but wonder what other surprises you hide.” she kissed him once more before helping him up and said, “You’re still wearing too many layers, Jon.”

“You distracted me.” he said with a satisfied smile.

Dany helped him undress and, if she hadn't already known about their existence and the story behind them, seeing his scars, especially the one over his heart, would have distracted her from her task of filling every bit of his exposed skin with kisses. Jon kissed her again when they finally freed him of all his clothes. Without breaking the kiss, Jon took her in his arms and carried her to the bed. He placed her on the furs carefully, as if she were something fragile, precious.

“You're so beautiful that sometimes I'm afraid you're not real. I'm afraid this is all a dream and I'll wake up back on the Wall.” he said.

She reached out, brushed his hair away from his face and placed her hand on his cheek. “I'm real and I'm exactly where I belong. Here with you."

Jon blushed, turned his head and placed a kiss on her palm.

“Do you have any idea the effect you have on me?” he asked, looking into her eyes “Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to devour you in front of everyone?”

She smiled, took his hand and slowly guided it to her wet pussy. His eyes widened when his fingers felt her wetness.

“I guess that makes us even, don’t you?”

His hand remained there and his fingers began to trace her wet folds and spread her open, leaving her center exposed for his exploration. Her hand found his member and she grabbed it at the base and her hand slid to the tip, feeling it get even harder under her touch. He moaned, kissed her lips and then her neck and as he kissed her, she guided the head of his member to her wet folds and passed it between them a few times, spreading her wetness on it. Jon gave another moan when she positioned his member at her entrance.

He looked into her eyes before slowly entering until his member was completely buried inside her and they both stared at each other as her body adjusted. Her legs wrapped around his hips and they made love looking into each other's eyes until they both reached their climaxes within seconds of each other.

Jon held her in his arms as they both caught their breath and she felt herself freeze when she heard him whisper against her hair. “I love you, Dany.”

Until that moment, Daenerys Targaryen hadn't thought about putting a name to the feeling she had for him, but love seemed like a good name. It seemed like the right name.

She pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes “Jon? What did you just say…” she started to say but stopped when his eyes widened and he tensed.

“I should go, Your Majesty.” he said, sitting on the bed “It won't be good for the future of your alliances for people to know that you shared your bed with a vassal. Especially a bastard like me.”

“Let me worry about my future alliances, Jon.” she asked “Being a bastard or not doesn’t make you lesser than others nor does it diminish everything I feel for you.”

“But I…” he began, but she silenced him with a kiss and he let her make him lie down again.

“I propose that, for now, we worry about surviving.” she suggested as their lips parted and she looked into his eyes before adding, “And know that I love you too.”

Jon stared at her with wide eyes filled with a mix of hope and disbelief “You love me?”

She smiled and nodded “I love you.”

Jon gave her the sweetest of smiles, and when he kissed her and made her feel like the most loved and precious person in the world, Daenerys knew that if they survived the coming war, nothing in the world would make her give him up.

[star--nymph]

Soooo, what’s the dynamic between these two OC’s. It seems intensely fun and just intense. Who/what are they to each other? I’ve seen bits and pieces that give glimpses but I grow all the more curious, especially with this beautifully charged art piece.

HO BOY. I'M GLAD YOU ASKED.

-slams down book of lore-

So I touched on the general premise here. But let's see if I can summarize their backgrounds in a way that makes sense:

Taking place an alternate earth called Eua, Artemis is the leader of a anarchist cult/crime syndicate named Deity that worships him as self-made God-King and wants to bring a new era to the world through violent, bloody means. Along with the ability to morph any part of his body into a unbreakable black metal at will, Artemis tots that he was able to 'eat god' and gain godhood through those means--and that anyone can do so if they have the strength and belief in him. Think of him as the worst prosperity pastor you can think of, make him hot, and imagine he also saying 'now kill people for me'. That's the most simplified version I can give you.

Kassandra, meanwhile, is an ex-military commander who created her own mercenary unit known as Godkiller for the explicit goal of hunting Artemis down and putting a stop to Deity's crimes against humanity. She's has a personal stake in all this because Artemis slaughtered her parents in front of her when she was ten years old, and she's been on this mad revenge journey ever since. On top of all that, Kass leaves behind an entire prestigious family legacy because the Rosales Family was famous linage that produced generations of military heroes. So on top of being on her own save for her team and being considered a traitorous deserter by the public, she's also referred to as disgrace.

The once promising 'golden child' who sacrificed everything for her 'pointless' revenge.

And Artemis could not be more thrilled about being chased down by her. I can not even begin to describe-- Okay, you know that one post that was like 'a nemesis is someone who you see across the room and know one day you're going to meet one a battle field for one final fight and the other is going to end you' or something like that. THAT'S THEM.

THAT'S THEIR HISTORY.

It is EIGHT YEARS (eight being them meeting up again when they were adults) OF THEM CHASE EACH OTHER DOWN. FIGHT TIT FOR TAT. ALWAYS YANKING AWAY JUST AT THE END BEFORE ONE CAN TAKE THEIR FINAL BREATH.

IT'S A DANCE.

It's my ode to hero/villain ships. And yeah Kassandra hates this fucker, she despises him, but she raises to meet him every goddamn second she hears from him. It's obsession, you know? The line between hatred and love. And Artemis loves her. Adores her. There is no one else on the planet he hopes puts a fucking bullet through her head. He wants to make this woman his Dark Queen--he wants to make her his GODDESS.

But to do that means he has to corrupt her, drag her down to where he's drowning in a pit of blood and visceral, have her breathe the same air, and say with all the same conviction as him that 'yes, I want this'.

'Wow that's fucked up, Kat'. YEAH I KNOW THAT'S THE POINT BRO. SHE WANTS TO PUT A BULLET INTO HIS BRAIN AND HE WANTS TO PUT A RING ON HER FINGER.

(and I swear to you Kass will be get to do the thing, I am not a 'revenge is bad' writer, I am a REVENGE IS JUSTIFIED, LET HER DO IT, JUST DON'T LET IT TURN HER INTO HIM, WRITER)

And there's so much more to it than this because they're mirrors to each others, they are so extremely similar and in another life, in another better place (or worst place, ya know), they could have been friends, they could have been soulmates. But they can't, not here. No matter how much Kass with her endless love (and god, I want to make this clear, more than Kass hates, more than she rages, she loves) pities him--but does not forgive him--and not matter how much Artemis genuinely, perhaps even tenderly adores her, they can't even be. They're going to do this dance, they may even be on the same side once or twice, they be equals on every front, but one day. One day this is going to end

and it's going to end with someone's blood on the other's hand.

I HAVE LOT TO SAY BUT THERE'S JUST SO MUCH. I HAVE BEEN WRITING THIS AND REWRITING THIS SINCE I WAS FOURTEEN. THIS IS MY SELF INDULGENT VILLAIN/HERO SHIP, I DO NOT CARE IF ANYONE HATES IT, THEY ARE MINE AND IF I DON'T STOP NOW I WILL NEVER STOP.

(but also they are a toxic relationship and they are not meant to be anything else, I want that understood)

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE.

ALSO HERE IS THEIR PLAYLIST AND PINTEREST BROADS (KASS, ARTEMIS, SHIP).

[firsttarotreader]

Could you do a reading on how Pedro feels about openly bisexual girls? I've noticed he often keeps the company of bi women so would you do a reading on how maybe he feels about it? Yknow, does he feel more comfortable with them, is it attractive to him, is it a trait he is drawn to? (Im not asking if he objectifies bi women before some of you come at me) just is that an additional trait he might... enjoy 😌

Hello! Let’s ask the cards, shall we? The first question was how he might possibly feel about bisexual women, and I loosely pulled some cards for it. The first one was the Ace of Hedgehogs, Transformation and 9 of Hedgehogs.

Ace of Hedgehogs shows us he might have possibly always loved the “many opportunities” they will consider in love and relationships. He sees them as really grounded and pragmatic because they like who they like and there’s so much potential there. Transformation (Death) makes me think he appreciates the way they are always changing, never remaining exactly the same from day-to-day. Like every opportunity they take will never be the same as the previous one, and this might be very sexy to him. 9 of Hedgehogs suggests he sees them as women who can have it all, they actually already do, and they don’t need him, they don’t need anyone, they appear as confident, secure, comfortable in their own skin.

The next pull was Justice, Queen of Spears and The Hermit. Justice is the card of balance and harmony, and it fits bi people a lot. They are on both sides, they can see both sides, and they will look so harmonious and “fair” to him. Queen of Spears is the woman who is in control. She knows what she wants, she’s rational, but she’s also fair, and he sees bi women as these women who are in control and they know they are. The Hermit means he is possibly fascinated by them (not in an objectifying way), he’s so interested he wants to just shut up and listen to them, let them shine to him, learn more about them when they meet or if they go on a date. At that moment, it’s her world and he’s living in it. But she will stay in his mind even after she leaves.

The last pull was the King of Flowers, Ace of Spears and The Fool reversed. King of Flowers, more mature than the Knight, represents intense feelings, adoration, passion, but also courage, boldness. Ace of Spears is a card of ideas, clarity of mind, so he might not only see them as passionate and bold beings, with everything being so clear in their minds, but he could also feel that way towards them. The Fool reversed also suggests he likes their boldness. He possibly sees them like the ones who feel intensely, act spontaneously, sometimes without thinking or taking risks, but given the other cards, in a good way. He may get spontaneous and jump into decisions like a naive child too when he’s around them.

Then I asked my Marseille deck using my yes or no method if he feels drawn to bisexual women. The Major Arcana were The Tower, The Lovers and The Hierophant.

So with The Tower, they’re gonna shake him to his core, take his breath away, while The Lovers just confirms that he’s gonna be insanely drawn to them. The interesting thing is The Hierophant actually suggests that not only he will be drawn to them physically and emotionally, but he could really think they would be perfect for a serious relationship if he decided to have one.

The Minor Arcana were the Queen of Wands, 8 of Swords and King of Wands. Oh, well, look at this cute pair of Queen and King of Wands. They’re in harmony, they’re a pair, a match, they have similar energies. The Queen with The Tower shows us these bisexual women being the ones to cause that shakeup with their fire energy, their sexiness, their boldness and power. 8 of Swords with The Lovers is actually funny because it means they will have him “on a leash”, he’s gonna be trapped by them (in a good way), enchanted. And the equally fueled with fire energy and boldness and passion King of Wands would think a relationship with a bi woman would be a good choice.

So there you have it, from these cards it looks like he might have only good feelings towards bi women.

But fret not, I do have the ask for the bi men too coming tomorrow, and it’s, unsurprisingly, not very different from this one. 😁😁😁

[berryblissbby]

Fiercest; devoted;

Pairing: Princess!reader x Guard/Warrior! Hajime Iwaizumi

Word Count: 9,500

Warnings: Use of blades and knives

A/N: Sooo this is the longest thing I've ever posted on tumblr and one of the longest fics I've ever written. Ive only even written a handful of things to completion before so please be kind (⩾﹏⩽). I'm currently reading TOG and this story was born from me trying to process HOF so if you see some parallels just look away! This is fanfic we borrow, not steal. And finally I must say, must I write a plot? Can’t they just learn to tenderly love each other in the end? 

AND! AND! Here's the pinterest board i made for this fic, i'm so sorry that all the references are white people omg, pinterest has shit diversity.

Summary:

The moonlight won’t let you forget, the sunlight brightens the truth.

You are his princess, and he is your warrior. Raised together Hajime is your greatest source of comfort when he suddenly pulls away, igniting your temper and flaring animosity towards each other. Either under the light of the moon, or the rays of the sun, you’ll fight it out, just like always.

 You were the princess of an empire. Heir of the kingdom that was the pinnacle of learning, healing and safety for anyone who wished to stay there. Books, music, and art were all treasured, and culture was allowed to thrive and breathe. Your court was beloved, held strong by devotion and loyalty, “the strongest court in the world” the people said. You were loved as well, by your parents and their people. Adored, you were their future.

 Hajime was a lesser by his kingdom's terms. In a kingdom of magic wielders, he was unwanted nobility. So he was sent to you, to your kingdom, where compared to your human court, with a little magical blood in him, he would be strong. He was to be your guard, to keep you safe, and when you were ready to rule your bond would be unbreakable.  

You were nine and he was thirteen . Delightfully shy- to adults- you lacked true friends. Hiding behind your mother, father or nursemaid, you could be found with your nose in a book. Even at celebrations it was the same, unless you convinced your mother or father to dance with you, much to everyone’s joy. 

 But then you had Hajime, and even though you were scared, with red rung hands and shifting eyes, he danced with you. Uncoordinated and silly, gentle smiles turning to grins and grins to giggles, you landed on the floor in a heap of laughter. Everyone could tell- when you were with him your timidness melts, and is met with ferocious quips and laughter full of love- that you would grow to be a shining queen. You didn’t worry, your child princess self, because when you were sat on your heaviest burden, your own little throne, he would be behind you. With his chest puffed up, his daggers sharpened and shining. Already your fiercest warrior and most devoted protector. 

 -

 You grew together, his dark eyes were always watching you, blanketing you in warmth. When you learned  how to fight and hold a dagger correctly he practiced with you, until your coordination and form were perfect. When you were strong enough for a sword he was right there as well, much to the captain of the guards dismay. You practiced together, but he never let you win. It was infuriating, his determined expression and unrelenting jabs. But “it’s for your own good” and you knew you'd best him one day. 

 -

 He snuck into your room, when your chambers were too big, and the darknesses fingers too long. He stayed in the chair in the corner, and listened to you talk until your words slurred and you fell asleep. Your maids usually find him still there, curled up, in the morning.

 -

 He was right beside you when you learned how to ride a horse by yourself at ten years old, with shaky hands and gasping breaths. And when you fell off- the one and only time- he picked you right off the ground, dusted off your dress, and growled at the stable master. 

 He wiped the tears off your face as fast as they fell. Your little hands gripping the front of his shirt begging him not to leave.

 Hajime pulled you to his chest, shushing you again. It was awkward, just two little kids clinging to each other, one barely old enough to comfort the other. But you needed him nonetheless.

 He was right there the day you got it, hanging off the rails of the round pin, pumping his fist in triumph as you and your horse trotted in circles.

 Looking over, a grin breaking across your face,  you met his own grin. It sent shivers down your spine, blooming in your tummy. You could see it, with that feral grin on his face, you understood what type of man he would be. He truly was a warrior.

 -

 He stood behind you when you first attended state meetings with your father, against the wall with the other guards. You had been terrified. You hadn’t known, really, what they were talking about, and you had been scared that they would ask you questions you wouldn’t know the answer to. But Hajime was there, and that made your words a little more steady. 

 -

 He was eighteen and you fourteen, budding into adolescence, and it seemed to be everyone’s business. He was turning into a man and you couldn’t help but notice, not that you would ever speak of it.

 He was leading you horse, walking you around the gardens. He liked to pick and choose when you should be treated as a princess. With swords in your hands he tended to ignore it, but at times like these, you were an heiress and he was an indentured servant.

 “I don’t understand”

 “It’s a tragedy, it's supposed to make you sad!” You say. “It’s about the ‘what if’s’ and the yearning, you have to focus on the yearning.” You giggle at your words, as you drag out your syllables. 

 You were telling him about your latest book, and how it had left you heart broken for the two lovers. With bad timing, and greedy people stealing their chances at love, they could never be together. 

 You always told Hajime about your books, you couldn’t help talking about the ones that you couldn’t get out of your head. He was an amazing listener, and you appreciated him dearly for it. Even though his face would remain blank and his eyes would shift all around you, looking for threats, he would always pay attention.

 He scoffed. “ Well, what if I don’t care about yearning, what if they’re just stupid? The answer was right in front of them.” 

 “That’s not the point Hajime,” you pout.

 He scowls up at you, stopping your horse. 

 “What?” You can’t help but laugh at both of your dramatics.

 “Just don’t let me catch you doing anything dumb like that,” he doesn’t let you answer, starting your horse walking again. ¨Idiots.¨

 ¨Hajime!¨

 You appreciate him, in every sense, always protecting you, in body and soul.

 -

 He was twenty and you sixteen. Your temper was epic, it shook the stone walls and snapped as easily as the ribbons on your dresses. But your heart was just as easily broken. You were a slave to your emotions and you could feel it, festering in you. You would never let it show to the court, but your family knew, and so did Hajime. There was little left of the girl who used to hide behind skirts.

 You didn´t know if it was a gradual process, or if you woke up to it one day, but suddenly you couldn´t stop watching him. You couldn´t stop admiring him. He was so big, and strong, and he made you laugh so hard. His hands were soft, and large. He was smart, catching things you hadn’t in meetings, and his voice would send shivers down your spine when he whispered in your ear, telling you things about the people you were surrounded by. Things that he had learned to keep you safe; precautions. You couldn't stop your cheeks from heating up anymore, they were perpetually flushed, and it was impossible to hold his gaze. Things that wouldn't have mattered before made you stutter. But what set you off, was when you would look up to him, when you expected to meet those cool eyes, they would be somewhere else.

 Before, when you had been upset, you would drag Hajime to the training rooms and throw him a sword. He would let you get a few hits in, before winning, of course. But only after you got everything you needed out. He was the cool water to your raging disposition. He had a sternness to him now, even though his fiery character could rival yours sometimes, he knew when to hold back. And when he did, his easy answers and cool voice were equally frustrating as they were calming. You shared more together while in those practice rooms swinging swords than anywhere else. But now you had lost the thing that had made it better.

 Now you only saw him when mandatory, behind your throne and next to you at meals. He seemed to be more interested in the guards and other warriors than you, so you ate in silence and read alone at night. You eventually requested a new guard, and your parents said no. You two were friends, and he was sent here for you, that would not be changing overnight. But he didn't feel like your Hajime anymore, your friend or defender. Because he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, not like he was supposed to. Or how you wanted him too.

 It made you burn when you looked up and he wasn't looking at you. The embers in your chest that would flare when you didn't get your way, when someone disagreed with you, when Hajime said something brash, were a roaring fire. You didn't understand why things had changed, where it had come from.

 You saw it, when his eyes met the older courtiers- well, older compared to you. You saw the eyes of the women on him, how they trailed over his broad back and strong arms. You knew that the lady’s had started taking their walks through the section of the palace they had previously thought of as unpalatable. They would bat their eyelashes and fan their fans in front of them as they walked past the training rooms, hoping to catch Hajime in only a thin damp shirt. It was infuriating.

 You took to ignoring him, long lonely months. It was intense, the war between you both, silently throwing glances at each other, both sets of eyes holding promises of worse words to come. He was a weight behind you at all times, dragging your heart deeper into a pit of solitary despair. He left you whenever he could afford, never letting your parents or the other guards see. You were kept safe, but it wasn’t comforting like before. The walks to your rooms after dinner were the worst, the internal battle inside you was tearing you to shreds. Should you talk to him? Confront him? Bear a dagger and rough it out? But he would leave you by your door and walk away before you could decide anything at all. 

 You had burned too bright, the fire in you now gone. The fury that had kept you warm was nothing but a cold pit in your chest.

 You were all alone, every day that knowledge split you open like a cold blade. You were determined to stay away from him, to not bother him, since he obviously didn’t want anything to do with you. But one day, it all became too much. 

 You had attended a dinner tonight, with a distant royal family. And they had said things to you that they had no right to say. They had spoken as if they had known you. They knew things about you that made your skin crawl. All of those things were somewhat common knowledge, but then they had started making assumptions about you, asking you things that if you were a queen you would have known the answers to. But you weren’t, you were a stupid little princess, with no one. And you felt so small. 

 The only thing that made it worse was when you realized you were bracing for something. After every one of their comments, you were waiting for one of Hajime's raging blows. For him let his temper go, just a little. To tell them how it was, to defend you. But it didn’t come, you looked over and he wasn’t paying attention. What happened to your warrior? Your watcher? Your protector?

 -

 You remembered a conversation between you and Hajime, before. It was late at night, Hajime was laying on the rug in front of your heart, his arm thrown over his eyes. Your book set to the side.

 The candles had all burned low, but the fire stood strong. It casted a blood orange glow across half of his body, the other half a stark blue. You didn’t know if he was asleep, and took your time admiring him.

 The side away from you, from your vantage point lounging on the couch, was flushed. His mouth was pulled down slightly, but it didn’t scare you. That looked like you’re Hajime, with sharp teeth and a barking laugh. Who felt everything thrown at him. 

 You didn’t know how he hid it so well, but he really did experience everything; he might conceal it, but it was in there.

 You looked at the other side of him, the one in a cold blue light from the moon coming in your windows. You wondered if that was what other people saw, the straight backed man, who knew who he was and what he stood for. 

You said his name gently, he grunted in response.

“Do you remember… that tragedy I read years ago, about the two lovers…” you explained a little more, trailing off.

He took a deep breath saying, “ yes, with the idiots.” 

You don’t bother hiding your pursed lips before you say, “what… what would you do in their situation, since they’re such idiots.” You pluck at a thread on the couch, not looking at him.

From your peripheral vision you could see him turn his head to look at the flames, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits you, you're scared to know his real answer, his honest one.

You get up and walk to the window, and the stark difference in temperature makes you shudder. It was starting to snow, just barely. The moon was so bright, causing the gardens below your window to glow. The marble walkways mirroring back the moon.

“I would…” you look back at him, with a hand still on the window sill, and almost gasp. “I would run too, because I wouldn’t know any better, just like them.” He had sat up and turned away from the fire, his whole front blue and cold. 

You couldn’t stand the window anymore, and went to sit by the hearth. 

-

You think he’s run. He’s carried himself as far away from you as he can without abandoning his responsibilities. The gap between you is the largest thing you have ever felt. A dark ravine, and on the other side was him, with his back turned to you. Everything is blue, the moon won’t let you forget, it refuses to shroud out the light, so you can’t remain ignorant. You hate it. And every day, you come closer and closer to falling into that deep crack in the earth, reaching out your arms, stretching your fingers, feeling the rocks shift under your feet, pebbles falling into the dark pit, maybe to never hit the bottom.

-

 You couldn’t calm yourself even hours later, your mind would go back to dinner when you tried to read, and you couldn’t sleep. Sometimes, when it was too late to brandish swords or you were too young to hold one, Hajime and you would walk the palace halls. Running from guards not to be caught, jumping on chairs in forgotten sitting rooms, daring each other to grab things from the kitchen. All before putting his grumpy cool mask back on and escorting you back to your rooms. But you never dared walk the halls yourself, you were always too scared. Hajime... Hajime, he would always take you, and make you feel better. 

 You had been pacing your rooms, trying to find a way to fix your hurt. Trying to come up with any solution. Sitting down on your bed, you put your head in your hands, pleading with the tears not to fall. You wanted him to make you feel better again, you wanted to feel safe with him behind you, not cold and unwanted. 

 You didn't know what to do, really, you told yourself as you snuck your way into his rooms, holding your breath the whole way there, still scared. Closing the door behind you you leaned against it, and for a moment, it felt like before. He smelled the same and the room was so warm it made you shiver in satisfaction. But he was a warrior, so your moment of peace didn’t last long as he rolled over, almost reaching for a weapon before he realized who you were. 

 You tried smiling, but seeing him like that, with his dark hair messy, and cheeks ruddy from sleep just hurt you more. You couldn’t stop the quiver in your lip.

 “You've been crying,” he said, pushing himself off the bed slightly. You tried not to watch the blanket fall off his shoulders.

 Nodding, you turn your head, wiping away tears with your wrist, not looking him in the eyes. You took a moment, trying to calm yourself and almost took a step towards him, but you caught yourself. That made the tears come faster. If things had been like before, you would have ran to him. You won't have hesitated, you wouldn't be bracing for something foul to come out of his mouth. 

 But those things didn't matter, not when he finally sat up and opened his arms letting you throw yourself at him.

 He rocked you back and forth, pulling you onto his lap, cooing at you. “What’s wrong, what’s the matter my princess.” The vibrato in his voice echoed through you, made you want to melt, but it was also painfully familiar. 

 His kind words only made you cry harder. How long had it been since you had heard him speak to you at all? And it had to have been even longer since he had been kind to you like this, only reserved for when you were totally alone, and desperately in need. 

 There was so much wrong, but you could only find it in yourself to shrug. He let out a scoff. Pulling you back, you tried to hide your face, but he grabbed your chin to make you look up. He swiped a thumb under your eye, catching a falling tear. You almost smiled at his frown, how you had missed it, when it only promised light scolding, not cruel disregard.

 “I j-just... want you t-to m-make me feel better,” the last word comes out in another desperate sob and he pulled you to him again. 

 He hummed saying, “Don't tell me someone did this to you.” 

 You shake your head, burying your face in his chest. You didn't want to face the truth, that he had been so neglectful that he really hadn't seen what had happened at dinner.

 “Let's get you to bed, okay?” 

 You desperately nod, you had missed this so much. You had missed his kindness so much. You almost felt like little kids again, and he led you through the dim hallways clutching your hand. Like when you had first met.

 You woke up alone.

 Cold, sober reality washed over you like water, slithering down your spine. Oh. Things were not back to before. You hated Before, it taunted you. It laughed at you as you broke each time the word crossed your mind. Before was better, the most shining and brilliant version of what you had lost. 

 -

 He was escorting you across the castle, and you battled with yourself again. Just like always but worse, now that you knew he was still in there. The contrast ached more. You almost didn't say anything, but you passed by a set of windows and happened to look outside.

 It was spring, almost summer, and everything was green again. The hills outside rippled as the green grass swayed. Beyond the grass were wildflowers. You wish you and Hajime could ride out there and lay in them. But you couldn't- or, he wouldn’t.

 That makes you stop for some reason, and you walk up to the window looking out. He stops too, remaining behind you.

 “Hajime,” You say quietly. He doesn't say anything, facing forward.

 He wouldn’t look at you. He refused until you grabbed him as hard as you could with your little hands, not holding back when your nails dug into his wrist and forearm.

 He tried pulling back, but you wouldn’t let him. Grabbing one of your wrists he made you yield. 

 “I’m not... we’re not going to talk about this, not yet,” he said the words with shifting eyes, not able to meet yours for too long. “I can’t.”

 You had never minded him when he was his serious self, because you would always see the loving side of him eventually. When you were alone, when it mattered. But this, the firm cold shoulder, it wasn’t the protective one you were used to, it was cruel. 

 “Well,” you spit out, ripping your wrist from his grip, “ when you can finally tell me your secret, it better be important, because right now I don’t appreciate being ignored- ignored and...” you struggled to find the right words, your chin quivering, eyes filling with tears. Unloved? Unprotected? 

 “Whatever this is,” you gesture at him, the venom in your voice dissipating with each syllable. Until each blink yielded more tears.

 ¨You´re dismissed,¨ you tell him, you could make it to tea just fine by yourself.

 -

 You were furious, angry, livid. The only thing that dosed the ever flaming embers in your chest was the announcement your father made. You had known it was coming, but him telling everyone solidified it.

 He had called you and Hajime to his private rooms a few nights before, you two had met in front of the door.

 You were to decide which member of your court  would take the oath to be your protector and advisor. Everyone knew it was going to be Hajime, but sometimes a ruler didn't have such loyal followers, and they would choose from a selection. But your father wanted to follow tradition and tell you properly. You had come of age, it would be time for you to take up more responsibility, and this was the first step.

 You could feel him standing next to you, facing your father and mother where they sat. The emers in you were doused, replaced by a rush of freezing water that contrasted your hot tears. You couldn't imagine spending the rest of your life like this. You would be a horrible queen if this was the future that awaited you. 

 Before he made his oath to you, there was to be your birthday celebration. A frantic day of eating, receiving gifts and dancing. Who would you dance with?

 Tight lipped, you thanked your parents and walked out. You could hear Hajime behind you, and you didn't try to quiet your ragged breathing as the tears flowed. 

 They had threatened to fall when your father stood up at dinner and told your court.

 -

 It was your birthday, you hadn't danced with Hajime, and you always danced with Hajime. Everytime you could, you let your face relax and your smile melted away. You were exhausted. But someone asked you to dance.

 The man no older than Hajime, with fluffy brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, asked you with a hypnotizing smile. He spun you around and said the most outrageous things in your ears, you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. 

 You would pass a couple and he would share their most treacherous secrets. Nothing too bad, just outlandish enough that you would blush and want to hit him- only lightly.

 He asked you again and again, until you finally had to say no, your face was hot, your skin was covered in a layer of perspiration and you were sure that your hair had fallen out of its updo.

 You made your way back to your seat on the dais, next to your parents. You didn't realize that Hajime had moved from his spot on the wall, blending in with the other guards, to stand behind you.

 Taking a seat, you hear a scoff. Straightening your back you almost don't believe it. Maybe it was the exercise, or the fact that you were feeling loose after laughing so hard. Or maybe it was because you were actually having fun, but you found that tonight- tonight you had energy. 

 You could feel it in your chest, that scoff has blown a harsh wind over those embers, fanning them a glowing orange.

 “Yes, Hajime,” you say, slightly turning your head in his direction. You tried to keep your tone light.

 He grunted, not saying anything. You place your hands in your lap. He won't even give you words.

 “Tell me,” you say, face blank, friendly tone gone.

 “Nothing, Princess.”

 How dare he scoff at you and pretend you were the crazy one.

 You spun in your seat. There he was, in his nice uniform, with your kingdom's mascot and colors. Your mascot and colors. Your kingdom's mascot and colors. The kingdoms that you would rule, mascot and colors. 

 The blades strapped around him were intricate; polished and shrap. He looked straight forward, not acknowledging you. He looks good, something inside of your chest whispered, but was whisked away as your eyes caught on the dagger on his belt, with the same color jews as his uniform

 You stood up in a flurry, so fast that he only had time to brace himself before you were grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to your level. Nails digging into him all the while.

 “Follow me,” you say through gritted teeth. Pulling back looking him in the eyes, you tell him exactly what he needed to know. It was an order, an order from his future ruler. The exchange was so fast you knew no one would see it.

 Spinning on your heel you walked down the dais and straight into the crowd of dancing people as they desperately tried to not step on you.

 “Princess,” Your father said from his seat behind you. You knew he was objecting at your rudeness, but you didn't care, the act of disobedience spurring you on. You hear the music halt, only for a second, but you keep moving.

 You could feel everyone's eyes on you as you made your way further and further towards the doors out of the hall. Each breath wasn’t enough oxygen, and your vision spotted, but the chills rippling over your skin were addicting. 

 You knew Hajime was behind you.

 -

 You didn't answer any of his furious remarks as you grabbed his forearm, dragging him through the palace. You turned down a certain hall and he stopped talking.

 You threw open the doors of the practice hall, letting go of Hajime’s arm. Marching down the long open space, so big it could probably hold dozens of bodies, you open one of the cabinets across from the row of tall windows. The room was dim, and you don´t think of lighting candles.

 Selecting two swords, you slide one to him across the floor, to where he stood still at the door. He stopped it carefully with his boot, as it spun towards him.

 Looking up from the sword, he says, ”No.”

 “Pick up the sword, Hajime,” You say from across the room, sword in your hand. You’re not sure why you threw it at him, he already had one on his hip. Maybe because it was unfair, that he could always have one and you could not.

 He scoffed at you, leaving it on the ground. 

 “Pick it up,” You growled.

 He didn't have time to roll his eyes before the twin dagger to the one on his belt landed in the door frame, next to his head.

You watched his eyes flick to your hand, smoothing out your skirts, hiding the slit that led to your thigh. You switched your sword back to your dominant hand, breathing already ragged, not looking away from those sharp eyes as he picked the sword off the ground. 

 You stayed exactly where you were as he walked towards you.

 “You are b-”

 “I don't want to hear any of what you have to say about my behavior.”

 He rolled his eyes, stopping in front of you, getting into his proper stance. You mimicked him.

 “You are being a brat.”

 You swing for him, and he easily blocks, sending your sword arcing through the air, still in your hand. He sends a shallow jab at you, which you take a step back from.

 “What right do you have judging the people I spend my time with?” You say, jabbing right back at him, which he blocks with a sweep of his sword. “And when am I not?”

 You go for his left, which he dodges, and as he came around spinning to face you again, he swung low at the wide skirts of your dress. You hear it rip and feel the cold air hit your calves. Taking two steps back he observes you, lowering his sword, intentions clear. 

 He thought that would end your little fight.

 He thought that the ruining of your dress would make you stop, that you were shallow enough to ask for his mercy just because of a tear in your skirts. It made you furious, knowing he wasn't taking this seriously.

 You feint lunging at him, he swung from the right, and you blocked, swords suspended in the air for just a moment. 

 “Stop it.” You say, voice almost a whisper.

 You grunt and pull back. Circling each other, you watch as the moonlight brightens his face. The circling continues, and no words are exchanged, giving you time to think about what had been said, only making you more upset.

 You had faults, in moments like these, you couldn't hide your next move, anger making you just want to act. You swing at him, and he blocks. While your sword is up, he takes the chance to roll, and shove you backwards away from him. A dirty trick.

 “Stop what?” He says to you, looking at you from where you had stumbled a few steps away, face blank.

 You looked at him, with his back to the windows, face shrouded in darkness, and you hated him.

 Before you could think about it, before you could flinch and regret your actions, your arms were arching up, throwing your sword across the room. Watching as Hajime involuntarily followed its arch through the air, sinning blade spinning over handle, until it landed in a clatter. You watched him all the while, and saw his shocked expression before he could hide it.

 “I am your princess,” You growl, his head snapping back to you.

 “I am your princess!” You yell, taking a step towards him, chest pressed to his.

 “I am your Princess!” You scream, shoving him backwards toward the large windows.

 You pressed against him, leaning him back against the window sill. You stretch to your tiptoes, your hands clutching his shirt as you stare into his eyes. With all the venom you can manage, panting, you say, “I am your princess! I am your princess and you will do as I say!”

 “What are you doing?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed. You barely hear his words, or his sword clatter to the ground, your breathing too ragged, your heart beat too loud. You could feel it, in every part of your body, it echoed through you.

 And in that moment you can almost see him. That flash in his eyes, that tone of voice, his breath fanning over your face. He was your Hajime, only for a second.

 “Stop it,” you say, losing momentum with each word, “stop it.”

 He finally tugs himself free, ripping your hands from him. He doesn't let go as he presses you a few steps back and leans down to look into your eyes. 

 His eyes were dark, and you lost him again, the Hajime you want. You yearned to bang on his chest and beg for him back, but you don't dare break the delicate dance you two were in.

 “I see them,”  you hiss, trying to get in his face, “I see how they look at you.”

 “Who?” He spits.

 “Your courtiers.” You say the words as if it's a curse.

 He throws your hands down, taking steps to the door, still facing you.

 “Nothing?” You ask. “You never have anything to say anymore.”

 “Why does it matter?” Squaring his shoulders he looks at you straight on. 

 “Wh-”

 “Why does it matter if they look at me?”

 “It- I-”

 “Tell me why it matters, Princess, and maybe we can talk. I don't want part in your tantrums.”

 You watch him walk away, listening to every fading step, until you only have your breathing to fill the silence.

 -

 You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, it made you sick, haunting you with the memories of what you had said to each other.

 Maybe you had been wrong. Wrong to order him to follow you, wrong to act so brash, wrong to scream at him, and to accuse him of those things.

 You scolded yourself for acting that way, to let your temper control you. It had felt good, until you had crashed. 

 The option-less future spread in front of you. What would you do? Exhaustion was seeping into you, a new type of tired, one that you would do anything to amend. 

 If your temper wouldn’t fix your problems, you would have to try something else, even if it burned you from the inside out.

 -

 You called him to your rooms, something you had never done before. There was no need to call upon each other, you always knew where the other was

 Hajime found you in the chair in the corner, the one he used to stay in; you rarely used it.

 The last rays of evening sunlight were shining in your windows, cascading over your body.

 Your face was illuminated by the sun, every beautiful line and imperfection was open in the light. It made you glow, like you should have been kept in a painting so you could be adored forevermore. You were golden, hair caught fire, glowing like a beacon of truth. The heir of an empire, the hope of thousands. 

 “Majesty,” he bowed, something he had only done a handful of times, for special occasions. It felt forgien and stiff doing it there.

 “Iwaizumi” you said, it sounded like a song, a sigh and a prayer and a plea. But it wasn’t right.

 When was the last time you had called him that? Never, a furious voice in the back of his mind told him.

 “It’s almost time for me to choose.”

 He stood up straighter, meeting your eyes for the first time. There wasn’t that look in them like before, of hurt and hardness. Determination that you would power through. It was just a fact.

 It was almost time for you to choose the person of your court to swear a never ending bond with. To protect each other, in body and soul, to in turn protect your kingdom.

 You looked down at your hands, and he was compelled to take a step forward to make sure he heard you, but not too close. He had a feeling that if he took another step he would see your  red rung eyes, and he didn’t want to think about that.

 “I want it to be you… I'm sorry for that night, for yelling, and trying to cut you into pieces. But…” You take a deep breath and look out the window. “ I don’t know what’s changed, and I’m so sorry for how I’ve acted, and whatever I’ve done, but I want it to be you” 

 With those last words you looked him in the eyes. The anger was gone, and all he saw was a tired princess. His tired princess. You didn’t break his gaze, not saying anything more .

 He almost wanted to question you, the maturity in your words shocking. But he stayed quiet; that wasn’t his place anymore.

 You had said your peace, he knew, as he looked into your eyes, with your face passive. It was his turn now, to come to you and bear his teeth, to gouge the hurt out of his chest in to lay it bare for both of you.

 -

 Hajime had a memory he kept close to him, right on his hip. He might have kept it on his ribs, the ones that protected his heart, if that was where you kept daggers. 

 It was the winter solstice celebration from years before. Hajime and you were in your parents' private rooms, giving gifts.The two of you sat on the floor next to the fire, with your parents on the couch in front of you. 

 “Now this one is for both of you.” Your mother explained, handing you both identical boxes. “Open them at the same time.”

 You gave Hajime one look before tearing into yours. He didn’t get to see your reaction as he worked on delicately undoing the ribbons, but he heard your gasp.

 Resting in your hands was an exquisite, shining dagger. You gently held it up, and both your heads turned in to stare at it. 

 “Oh my…” You gawked.

 Hajime went back to his gift and opened it to an identical dagger. Twins. 

 He held his up, and you two compared.

They had blades of shimmering silver, with curved tips that looked sharp enough to split hairs. The handles were of matching silver formed into delicate patterns, inland with jewels that matched your kingdom's colors. The metal reflected the light of the fire behind you, flickering gold and orange, like the blades held the sun.

 Looking up to your parents your father explained. “I had those made for the two of you.” 

 You waited, but that was all he offered. Hajime watched you balance the dagger in your hand, turning it over and examining it. 

 “They’re beautiful.” You say.

 “I would hope that you don’t use them on each other, and only wear them for celebrations, but I doubt that is something that will happen.” 

 Hajime chuckled, looking down at his own dagger. The king might not have said it, but he had a feeling he knew what the daggers were for. 

 They were the two of you. Cut from the same stone, at each other with blades as sharp as diamonds, all while in your shining castle. 

 They were to remind you where you came from, that you two were one in the same, and that you were to work together. Much better to mar an enemy with the same blade than have the one that matches your in your gut. 

 “Thank you,” he said.

 Hajime looked at you, and you were smiling. Leaning over, your grin was feral, and he couldn’t help the electricity that went down his spine.

 “Do you know what this means?” You ask. “I need to get my dresses tailored.” 

 Hajime ruffled your hair, but your smile was burned into his memory. One in the same. Maybe his future queen really would be as strong as him. 

 Hajime could learn to like that.

 -

 Hajime was trained by your father and his men to be a warrior. Your warrior. While you were trained in how to fight men across oceans and continents, he was taught how to fight men with steel and teeth. You did give him a run for his money when you brawled, but he knew that he would never want to be facing you in a killing field, with an army at your disposal.

 Your cleverness was beyond him, not that you would ever give yourself credit for it. But you were still young, and when he caught something that you had missed in meetings or conversations, the sparkle in your eye, the way he knew you were in awe of him, was addictive.

 In all honesty, Hajime wasn’t your only lover, or admirer, you had many. Your parents were kind to you, your father could often be found making you giggle, especially when you were seated next to him at meetings. Your mother and you discussed books and music. You would often receive compliments from your father’s advisors and friends, which always made you blush in thanks. And your mothers lady’s loved to give you advice about clothes and any romantic endeavors you might go one. Not that there were many. The boys liked winking at you, and making you blush. Hajime tried his best to keep that to a minimum. Your court did love you, they loved the princess that was bashful and kind, but had the cleverest ideas at council meetings. You were the beautiful shining light, in your beautiful shining castle, and you would keep your court strong.

 Those were all things that Hajime knew well. Painfully well. Because he was always the first to notice. He had seen how they all cared and vowed to make sure that you would stay that way, that you were protected and cared for. So your light never went out, so your kingdom was always strong. He would do what he must, he would not let your court fall.

 So when he had looked at you and the light in your eyes had changed, he felt responsible.

 It wasn’t a bad change, just different. It only took him a short amount of time to pinpoint what it was.

 He couldn’t love you, not like that. He couldn’t let himself break you, because he knew he’d manage somehow, he was always a little heavy handed.

 What protector would he be if he broke your heart? If he was the first one to weaken you? To welcome you into the cruel world you would be entering, of choosing the best of horrible options, of lying and deceiving? He would not be the one to welcome you to that.

 -

 Maybe he was wrong, maybe you could take it. He wouldn’t be the one introducing you to the hurt, he could be the one to guide you through it.

 -

 He was surprised when he found you, always too afraid to wander the place at night. You were in a sitting room, long forgotten by the court, locked away and covered in sheets. 

 It was one of the rooms you would play in as children, with the furniture pushed to one corner; each and every one of the walls between the tall windows was covered in paintings.

 By now both of you had them memorized, whether that be by sunlight, candle light or moon light, both of you knew each of them well.

 You were only looking at one, standing right in front of it, your favorite painting of them all. 

 Hajime watched you, in the light of the moon, stare at the picture. Your profile was perfectly outlined by the stark light.

 “Tell me about her again,” he asked, voice carrying across the room.

 You spare him a glance before turning back to the painting.

 You take a step closer and take a breath. “Her name was Kiyoko.”

 You bring your hand up, and with only a finger you delicately trace the frame. 

“She was the most beautiful woman in the land, and the man who painted her was in love with her, but there were few who weren’t.”

 Hajime didn’t have to see the picture to know what it looked like, he had spent plenty of time looking at it with you. The girl was beautiful, with silky black hair, pale skin, and eyes that felt like they knew all, like they were windows into the fiercest storm.

 He knew the curve of her lips and the mole on her chin, and the pastel color of her dress. She was framed in a sea of greenery; plants, grass and trees all around her. Despite her pale dress and cool eyes she was surrounded by orange flowers, and in the corner of the painting, were perched crows.

 He wasn’t sure what made you stare at that painting like you did. Like you could see details that weren’t there. You had always said that when you looked at it, you longed for the frame to expand, for the picture to grow wider, to see what she saw.

 You also had a thousand questions for her, you wanted to know her as intimately as you knew her face. But she never answered, staring back with those eyes, until only Hajime was left to answer your questions.

 “She was loved by everyone, it was said that you would be blessed if she acknowledged you, and if she spoke to you, you were destined for the most devine heaven.” You move your finger from the frame to the painting, looking like you would touch it, but you don’t, only coming infinitely close.

 “She married the man she loved, and had a laugh that sounded like bells.” You bring your hand down and step back from the painting. 

 “You would be her most devoted admirer.” Hajime said.

 “I already am,” you smile looking down at your hands, “but I think she would have deserved a beautiful friendship.” 

 -

 It wasn’t a real story, her name was Kiyoko, that was the name of the painting, but each time you told it, it was different.

 Looking up to reply to Hajime, you met his eyes. On his face was a smile that delicately curved, turning his mouth up.

 That smile… the curve of his mouth, the sharp teeth behind it. It made your knees week, the relief of seeing it again.

 He took steps towards you, until you were standing shoulder to shoulder looking at her again. 

 “What do the crows mean,” he asked, encouraging you to keep going.

 You take a moment before answering. “They’re her other admirers, only to ever love her from afar.” 

 He hummed, and you swear you could feel it in your bones. 

 You turn to look at him, right in the eyes.

 “It matters… it mattered because you weren’t looking at me.”

 He tried to speak, but you stopped him. “No, listen to me.”

 He wouldn’t look away from your eyes, face cool.

 “I couldn’t- can’t- you just… you weren’t looking at me, and I didn’t know what to do. It’s unbearable.” Your words were so quiet, always so quiet in moments like these

 It seemed like he couldn’t bear to break the silence as he said with narrowed eyes. “You think I don’t know, that I didn’t see?”

 “You won’t break me Hajime,” you say with a scoff. He almost flinced, coming close but stopping. Like you had seen right through him when he wasn’t expecting.

 “You don’t know that,” he hissed, “I know, saw it, everything, and I made that decision. I won’t be the one to introduce you to that, to be the first one to hurt you.” 

 He spoke with his hands, and you watched them as they moved. They were so wide, well taken care of, you remember them being softer than expected.

 “You’re supposed to protect me,” you grit through your teeth. You don’t know if he can tell how flushed you are, but you know he can see the silver lining your eyes.

 “H-how am I supposed to protect this kingdom, t-this court without you! I can’t do it without you.”

 “You’ll do just fine,” he said, standing up straighter.

 “Don’t say that! Why would you- why would you say something like that.” 

It was getting hard to get the words out, every time he spoke you ached more and more.

 He was panting, like those words had winded him. His face was hard, unyielding. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and covered your wobbling mouth. A sick imitation of a comforting embrace

-

 He didn’t know what to do. His princess was shattering right in front of him and there was nothing he could do. 

 There was no one to point a blade at, no where to keep you safe. Looking at the tears in your eyes, he knew that this had been happening for a while. You were begging him to take his words back, any of them, but he wouldn’t let himself.

 Hajime resisted the urge to look down at his hands. He’d always been heavy handed, that's what he had said to himself. He was trying to shield you, gods-dammit, but those hands had done more harm than good when it really mattered.

 All he could do was watch you crumble in on yourself, while he stood feet away.

 -

 He was clueless. He always knew what to do. Your faithful, balanced Hajime was at a loss.

 You could see it, you blinked and you were there. No longer in that moon-bathed room, but outside, children again.

 How old were you? Nine? Eleven? How old was he? Thirteen? Fifteen? You were just children; the same as always. Had you even grown up, were you always clutching each other like this? So dependent yet so unaware of each other?

 You had never seen him like this, he lived with a sword in his hand and a shield on his back. His upper lip stiff, his will unmoving.

 But the man standing in front of you was desperate, with his hands splayed in front of him, like they would burn you if he got too close.

 Why couldn’’t you just say it, why were you two always dancing around it? Your own choreography, your own sacred, unique steps. 

 “I’m tired,” you say, shoulders dropping, eyes lifting to the ceiling.

 “I am too,” Hajime admitted.

 You closed your eyes tight, feeling more tears fall from your lashes. And when you opened them again, you were met with steel. Not like the steel of blades, but unforged steel, ready to be shaped, reborn.

 Looking into those eyes, the irises that framed hurricanes, it felt like those roaring winds blew right through you. Breathing life into you, fanning your flames. Maybe she could answer just one question for you.

 This is the last time, you vowed to yourself, no matter how it ends.

 -

 Hajime didn’t ask questions as you dragged him through the palace, his presence giving you a little more confidence than before.

 Up and up you went, just when he thought you were done taking him up stairs you found another set, and headed right to the top. You only felt him hesitate once, but you didn’t look back, and he followed. You made it to the top. A tower that was once a sentries station. 

 “How did you… isn’t there someone working here?” Hajime asked.

 You didn’t have to look at him to see the crease in his brow. “No, there’s no need to have anyone up here.”

 Your kingdom had been peaceful for years, if any attacks were to come, they would not be so often as to need guards on the lookout every day. Hajime knew that, so you followed. “I haven’t been sleeping, so I’ve just been walking around at night… and I wound up here.” 

 He didn’t say anything, but you knew what he was thinking. You never walked alone, the fact that you had been in that sitting room tonight was shocking. But you? Wondering up here?

 On one hand, you hoped that he was feeling guilty. On the other, you felt horrible for tearing him up like that. But you knew that was how he was feeling, he wouldn’t push it to the side this time. Not with it spelled out in front of him.

 Crossing his arms and leaning back, he gave you a look of disapproval, but you were no stranger to those cunning eyes. You tried not to dwell on the picture before you, slowly focusing into something- someone you recognized.

 You walked up to the window, leaning against it, staring at the slowly brightening horizon. 

 “Just tell me why.” Was all you said.

 -

 Hajime stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with you, hand on the cool window sill. The warmth that encompassed Hajime's side almost made him purr, you were so close.

 He took a moment to look at the view, the mountains in the distance, silhouetted by the rising sun. The dark sky was slowly becoming a splash of deep colors.

 “I don’t just protect you, your life isn't your own. What I do affects you, what I see keeps you safe. What I let you do… it could change so much. If I stumble, if I overlook something- so much is at steak. And I know what you were thinking when you looked at me.”  He paused as you nodded, and watched your eyes move from the horizon to the city nestled below the palace. “So I stopped, and you were pissed.”

 “I’ll be disappointed if you say you didn’t see that coming.”

 “Well, it worked to my advantage… until you woke me up that night…” 

 Your smile melted, but you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was bracing for something, that crackling irritation he was used to. But it didn’t come.

 Hajime stiled. Maybe this wasn’t him talking to his princess anymore, as you listened, as he spoke, he realized it was his queen in front of him. 

 “You hurt me. You were mine and then suddenly you weren’t.” He sat there and listened as your voice cracked

 “I’m sorry”

 You turned to look at him. “You can’t break me that easy Hajime, we’re one and the same, in sword and devotion. I want you at my back, I want you protecting me. I need you to want the same. I thought- I thought we agreed on that. So please… let me choose you.”

 “Please let me be your princess, please let me choose you, I want you to protect me, the right way.”

 With you next to him he could see the sunlight reflected in your eyes, how it made them sparkle, how the roofs of your city seemed to wink up at you with the last slivers of moon light. Telling him how much hope they had for you, how they knew that their princess would keep them safe.

 “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

 With that admission, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him as hard as you could. You took a few breaths before pulling back, still keeping your arms around him, looking into his eyes.

 “Let me be your princess Haji, please.” It was like you were looking for something in his eyes, not breaking the connection.

 “Always,” he whispered, leaning closer, not looking away.

 “But you aren’t my princess.” He watched your eyes flutter and he drew closer and closer, wrapping his arms around you, keeping you right against him. “You're my queen.”

 He met your lips, and you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. He didn’t think he could ever forgive himself if he made you feel like you had again. 

 And as the sun created the mountains, and it's morning rays illuminated you and Hajime, he knew that his hands might have broken you, but they had also put you back together. 

 -

 Pulling away from Hajime, you try not to look as out of breath as you felt. You stared into his slate eyes and felt like he had never left, that the time between you that had hurt you  was just a memory, a distant past.

 They say you can’t remember pain. Maybe its to give you the courage to forgive, to be able to try again.

 You watched his mouth as he said, “I'm a fool.”

 “Then that would make me a fool too,” you muse, tone playful.

 “No,” he said, shaking his head slightly, furrow in his brow. “We can’t have a queen who's a fool.”

 “Then what am I?”

 “An idiot,” you watched his mouth as he said it. His smile was crooked, like he was trying to hide it.

 “Like the lovers,” You breathe, your own smile spreading across your face.

 “Like the lovers,” he repeated.

 The word lovers echoed in your head when you decided you wanted to kiss him again.

 -

 With each breath, you felt the embers inside of you cool to ashes, blowing in the wind like ash. 

 You might have lied, that night wouldn't be your last fight, but it would never be like that ever again.

 Hajime and you were once again in the practice hall, but this time things were different. You were both giddy, as the early morning sun glinted in your eyes. You tumbled and swung your swords at each other, but this time it was laughter shared between you, not savage words.

 You felt like you two were dancing again. With your dress whispering around your legs, and the dagger that matched Hajimes visible around your hip, you felt like you had that night as children, when Hajime first taught you to laugh. 

 You weren’t upset, or nervous this time, as you gave each other bruises and sore shoulders. Because later that morning at the ceremony you knew who would be standing next to you, with his back straight and his shoulders down. Your fiercest warrior and most devoted lover.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Fingers and Toes // H.P.

Request: heyy!! i’m not sure if you still take requests but i was wondering if you could write a harry fic as a dad? like make it all fluffy and stuff like that? thanku!! - anon

Summary: Glimpses into Harry’s life as a father.

A/N: I adore this request! Thank you so much for sending it, I hope you like!! Also I made some changes to canon, so in this there are only two children, not three. 

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of injury and nightmares. This is nothing but wholesome fluff.

Word count: 1.6k

On the eve that Harry became a father, he couldn’t quite believe the size of his son’s fingers and toes.

Ten tiny fingers.

Ten tiny toes.

As a whole hand of tiny fingers wrapped around one of Harry’s, Harry made a silent vow.

This vow he made as he glanced between his newborn son and you, sleeping peacefully after an intense delivery. This vow he made to remind himself of the importance of family.

The ten fingers and ten toes of his newborn son would never once experience the level of pain he had. His son would never go through the emotional torment of never knowing his parents; his son would never experience true loneliness.

Harry made the vow in utter silence, sealing it with a kiss to his son’s head. As if in response to the promise made, his son squeezes his father’s finger, gripping it with all the strength in one of his tiny hands.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All perfect, and all there.

-------

It’s a huff and a cry that follows that has Harry rushing from the kitchen into the back garden. Harry’s heart stops at the sight of his son sprawled on the floor; fat tears running down his face more from shock than pain.

He brushes his son down, checking for any major injuries as he does so. His heart returns to a normal rhythm once he realises that James is entirely uninjured, suffering shock more than anything.

“How many fingers, James?” Harry asks; reaching out brush the tears away from James’ face.

“Ten.”

“How many toes?”

“Ten.”

Harry kisses his son’s hair, “Ten fingers, ten toes. We’re ready to go. Do you feel better?”

James nods; wiping away the last of his tears and smiling shakily up at his father. Harry smiles back at his son; lifting him under the arms and settling him on his hip. “I think we’ve had enough of the outside for now,” Harry comments softly, “Will you help me make lunch, James?”

James nods once more, tucking his small head into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry chuckles softly, heading back inside where he settles his son on a stool at the kitchen counter.

“What will it be, James? A sandwich or some soup?”

“Soup!” His son shouts, a smile on his face as Harry grabs the tins from the cupboard and sets the pan on the stove.

You enter the kitchen, pressing a lingering kiss to Harry’s cheek before dropping a kiss to James’ head. “What’s happening here?”

“Lunch Mama!”

You laugh, “I can see that. What are we having?”

“Soup,” Harry states.

Harry watches you with a warm smile. You pick up your son, settling on his stool before sitting James on your lap. Harry thinks back to his teenage years; to the years that he didn’t know whether he would make it through the school year never mind make it to having a family.

The rich laughter of his son brings Harry back from his memories; fetches harry back from the precipice in which he found himself teetering. He lets himself have his small panic; Harry lets himself fall prey to the anxiety that has unfurled in his gut. But he only lets it keep hold of him for the amount of time it takes him to count the fingers and toes on his son.

Ten fingers, ten toes. Harry’s mind calms and his smile returns to his face.

Ten fingers, ten toes. All will be well.

--------

Harry lurches upright. A hand to his throat as he drags in air; his mind rattled and his body shaking. It had felt so real. It had been real; he had experienced his nightmare before as a teenager, but now, knowing he had much more to lose, it felt even more terrifying.

He glances over to your sleeping body; a hand outstretched towards him even in sleep. His eyes run over you; watching your sleeping form rise and fall as breath leaves your body. Harry’s mind settles slightly as he sees you’re alive and with him. The silver wedding band on your left hand signally a happy future from the nightmare he had found himself in.

Harry presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your face before leaving you in bed. He shives against the cold air of the night; the landing freezing as Harry sits at the top of the stairs, hanging his head in his hands.

He knows logically that there is no threat now; he vanquished it years ago and there had been no signs of another uprising since. Yet, Harry spends most nights having to repress the urge to stand guard by the front door, wand at the ready for whomever should come crashing through posing a threat to his wife and his son.

James stands by his door; his teddy hanging from his hand as Harry tries to settle his breathing and heartbeat.

“Daddy?” He asks, voice quiet yet ringing through the silent house.

“James,” Harry says, a hand reaching for his son.

James goes into his arms willingly, yawning tiredly as he settles his head against his father’s shoulder. James doesn’t say a lot, even this young he knows that his father struggles to sleep on some nights. He had found him asleep on the couch downstairs more often than not, a blanket thrown haphazardly over his body as James hears his mother soft humming from the kitchen.

“How many fingers?” James asks, stumbling over the harder sounds in the words.

Harry swivels to face his son; the question being the last thing he expected.

“Ten, James.”

“How many toes?” James follows, kicking his feet in the air for emphasis.

The weight on Harry’s chest feels lighter as he answers his son, “Ten, James.”

Ten fingers, ten toes. James reminds Harry – ten fingers, ten toes, and we’re ready to go. As long as we have all ten fingers and all ten toes, we can do just about anything, even if it is defeating the terrors that haunt us at night.

-------

The very same vow is made when Lily Luna Potter arrives in the world on a sunny March morning. Harry felt sure that he had the same awe-filled expression on his face from when he first held James.

The pregnancy had not come as a shock to either you or Harry. The both of you had been trying for a second child for close to a year before being blessed with a positive test.

The nerves do not rack Harry as much as they did before James arrived. However, they still turn his stomach as he watches you go through the same experiences of morning sickness followed by odd cravings. For James, it had been chocolate with cheese and onion crisps. For Lily, it had been crackers slathered with butter followed by plain digestive biscuits.

Harry crinkled his nose at all cravings, but kept his mouth shut for fear of upsetting you. He would reassure your worries as you would reassure his. The both of you looking to James as an example that so far, neither of you had failed at parenting. The small boy turning into young child that knew his manners and was devoted to his mother.

It is James who whispers the vow. He stands over the cot of his baby sister, eyes wide in awe at the small bundle of blankets. He turns to his father; catching his attention from whatever conversation he was having with you.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” James whispers, pointing to Lily’s hands and feet.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” Harry states, the vow unleashed to the world and sealed with the very same kiss he had placed upon James’ head all those years ago.

----------

The Hogwarts’ Express hoots behind them. James looks toward the train before fixing his tear-filled gaze on his father. Harry is barely keeping it together himself; the first of his three children to be going away to school. He knew he would be emotional; he just didn’t prepare himself for the pit of dread eating its way through his stomach lining.

Harry reaches out to ruffle his son’s hair. His first born; his eldest – the one who made him a father, who had moulded him into the man he is today.

“Write to your mother and I when you get settled?”

James nods. “As soon as I get to my room,” He replies, voice quiet.

“Do not be scared of whatever house you are sorted in. Your mother and I love you either way.”

A weight is lifted off of James’ shoulder; he had been silently obsessing over that since the letter first arrived. His father, the great Harry Potter, was known for his strong allegiance to the house of Godric. James couldn’t help but panic if he was to be sorted into any other house; he didn’t want to think of his father’s reaction should he be sorted into Slytherin.

Harry pulls James into a hug; unable to let his son go without one more. As they part, Harry pats James on the shoulder, nodding towards the open carriage door, silently letting him know that it’s okay now. It’s okay to let go and board the train.

James does so with a wobbling lip; trying his best not to cry in front of those who could be his housemates for the formative years of his life.

“Fingers and toes,” Harry shouts, not caring about the odd looks from the other parents. These were his final verbal words to his son until Christmas. He would make sure they were   those that he vowed over his cradle when he was only a few hours old.

James sticks his head out of the carriage window. “Fingers and toes!” He cries, throwing the promise back to Harry.

He would return in one piece.

All ten fingers and all ten toes.

*******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @inglourious-imagines​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Jungkook x reader

fairy/soulmate au

Warnings: fluff, mentions of war, mentions of bodily injury, ummm...fluff? lol

Word count: Exactly 10k on the dot!!!

A/n note: So this was supposed to be my secret santa/ winter project for December 2020 but some life stuff came up aka my dad had some very severe health issues that kinda broke my brain for a while. He’s doing better now though and I finally was able to just sit and give this story the love it deserved. To @birbdae​ I am so sorry this is late but thank you so much for being patient with me~ Happy belated birthday and I love you bunches~

“Mother, tell me the story again?” The young girl whispered as she clung to the Queen’s multitude of skirts.

“Hush now my love.” The elegant lady gathered her child into her arms, eyes struggling to see her tiny face in the dusky twilight that surrounded them.

“Please Mother, I’m scared…” 

The woman sighed, allowing her silvery hair to fall into her eyes as she pressed her forehead to her child’s and allowed the icy chill that surrounded them to comfort her into speaking.

“Once upon a time, there lived a young maiden so fair that kingdoms bowed down at the very mention of her name.”

“Queen Merialiies, the most powerful of the frost fae.” The little princess sighed, settling into her mother’s arms and allowing the familiar words to comfort her.

“Aye, that she was. And the kindest. A great war ravaged her country. So devastating was it that half the world lost their lives and the balance of life and death were in chaos.”

The Queen clutched her child closer, shivering as her eyes trained intensely on the entrance of the isolated cavern. “When the war was over the maiden emerged from hiding, seeking out her people and gathering them from their hiding places. She knew that if they were to revive the world they would have to come together, for their strength lay in their bond with each other.”

“Because our joined power is always greater than if we are alone.”

The Queen chuckled, nuzzling into her daughter’s hair and placing the most gentle of kisses to her forehead. “Am I telling this story or you my love?”

The child smiled up at her, giggling as she patted her mother’s cheek. “I’m sorry Mother, please, would you keep going?”

“Alright, where was I?”

“You were about to come to the best part!” 

Smiling the Queen nodded, though her grip on her child tightened. “The maiden persevered, gaining strength from her people as they guided the world towards rebirth. But something was wrong. The poor dear, though surrounded by those that loved and adored her felt alone. Something was missing in her life. A love that she could have all to herself. She began searching, hoping to find one who could see through her strength to the innocent and lonely woman within.”

“And she did Mother! She found her own truest love.”

“Shh, quietly my lovely.” Her panicked gaze wandered the dark, listening intently to the wayward sounds that filtered in through the stone and ice.

“You’re right. She found her love. A twin flame to melt away the loneliness in her heart. The one who carried not only a burning love for her, but also the twin pair to her wings.”

The youngling sighed, burying her face in her mother’s chest as her tiny fingers wrapped in the delicate silk of her bodice. “Twin souls. They were happy right? Finding each other?”

“Of course my love. Finding your twin soul is a cause for celebration. And they did. They celebrated for weeks after. Two kingdoms joined together to celebrate the greatest love story in the history of the fae. There was no war, only peace and prosperity.”

The sounds from outside gained in volume. Explosions and cries for help echoed through the cavern as the two held each other close.

“Mother…”

“I know baby. I’m here. It will be okay…”

***

“My Lady where are you?” 

The young woman flinched, tucking herself farther into the frost covered tree as she watched her jailer...lady in waiting, search for her in the gardens down below.

She’d been avoiding the poor harried woman for hours, hoping to not be dragged back to the small cabin they called home and be forced to sit down and study her histories again. The tutor they’d found liked to drone on and on, more busy with facts and numbers than the great stories of heroes and villains that the young woman preferred to daydream about. He’d taken on the job willingly, a poor clumsy scholar that tended more towards the clumsy side despite the brilliance of his mind.

“My lady! Sir Namjoon awaits you! Please stop hiding and come so that he can teach you like we hired him to!”

The woman snorted, knowing she’d be able to hide as long as she needed if it meant she didn’t have to hover protectively over her inkwell while the man droned on. Luck was not on her side this day though. Where normally her fingers would have done their work, gripping tightly to the course bark that wrapped her beloved tree in silvery protection, today they faltered in the cold.

She barely had a moment to react, a silent oh! of surprise slipping from her lips as she took her tumble. The ground rushed up to meet her, its snow covered embrace announcing her hiding spot with a resounding crash.

A gasp echoed through the clearing, swallowed by the sound of rushed footsteps crunching their way through the freshly lain snow. The fallen woman groaned, eyes filled with the sight of the uncaring forest staring down at her as she lay resigned to her fate.

“My Lady you mustn't lay on your back like…” The maid stuttered to a halt, delicate fingers coming up to cover her lips as her eyes filled with misty tears. “Oh...oh your ladyship I...I’m so s…”

“Hush now Solaris. It’s been 14 years.” The woman sat up abruptly, dusting the snow from her dress and rising to brush it off of her back. “I’ve had enough of these woods. Come now, Sir Clumsy britches is waiting for me.”

Solaris couldn’t help the tittering giggle that slipped from her lips. She bowed her head, giving the young woman a small curtsy as they began making their way back towards the village.

“Might I ask why you’re always climbing that tree my lady?” She couldn’t help her curiosity. It seemed her charge was always running off, attempting to find some adventure or another in any attempt to escape her duties.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I just…” The young woman sighed, fingers brushing at her skirts as she ducked beneath a wayward tree branch and stepped out into the clearing that housed their small cottage. “I’ve always felt like I was searching for something. Even as a child. I suppose I thought if I could see more of the land, see more of the world from up high I’d be able to figure out what that something is.”

“And have you found it my lady?”

The melancholic woman shook her head, pausing at the door to the cottage and glancing once around the clearing. It was a modest little place they called home, situated just inside the wall of trees that surrounded the capital city of their kingdom. They managed to live quietly here, benefiting from the security of the centuries old trees and forest while still being close enough to the large city to fulfill all of their living needs. It was home, though not the one she’d grown up in. That was a fairytale now only to think about in the quiet nights when she tossed and turned with nightmares of the past.

“No...I haven’t found my twin flame. Not...not yet anyway.”

***

“Your Highness! There’s news from the capital!” A hurried Solaris burst through the front door, eyes wide and panicked as she struggled to catch her breath from the obvious nonstop run from the market to their home.

“Goodness Solaris. Take a moment, calm yourself.” The young woman rose from her chair, absolutely grateful for the interruption from Sir Namjoon’s usual rantings as she guided her breathless maid to the chair she’d been occupying.

“Sir Namjoon, would you kindly draw Lady Solaris a cup of water? I’m sure she’d be grateful.”

The usually calm man grew flustered at the request, rushing towards the tiny kitchen area and rifling through the items for the requested object. Surprisingly nothing fell or broke though as the man returned with a tall cup of cold water and handed it to the maid with trembling hands and the tiniest of a dimple filled smile.

“Y...your...your water my Lady.” He muttered, scurrying back to his large stack of books as if terrified to have Solaris’s attention on him for too long.

After allowing the woman to take a few sips to calm herself her mistress took the cup, placing it off to the side and handing over a handkerchief to allow the woman to wipe at her sweat covered brow.

“Now, what’s got you so flustered that you had to burst in here in the most unladylike of manners?” She smiled in amusement as the woman inhaled sharply, almost as if preparing for the most magnanimous of speeches.

“Your highness! The king! He’s come to the capital and he’s calling all the maidens of the kingdom to attend him! It’s required that all, no matter their status, must see him at once!”

“That conquering tyrant.” Where normally she would be calm the woman suddenly burned bright red with a strange fury. “First he takes our country and now he wants all of the maidens to attend to him?” She turned from her hand maid, fury twisting her features as she stomped over to the window to glare out at the surrounding forest.

“No my Lady, you’re mistaken.” Solaris stuttered, sitting up in her chair as she finally allowed her thoughts to settle. “It’s for the First Prince. They’re wanting a marriage of good faith to allow the two kingdoms to integrate peacefully.”

“P..peacefully??” She sputtered as she turned from the window. Throwing her hands in the air she couldn’t help but to rant. “Those hot heads should have thought of that BEFORE they burned our crops and raided our villages! We’d have easily come to a compromise of some sort had they come bearing that same mentality before taking up arms against us!”

“Madame, they…”

“Yes yes I know.” She waved off Namjoon’s words dismissively. “My father didn’t want to send me there. Didn’t want his precious daughter to ‘descend into that den of thieves’” She tossed up air quotes, sarcasm dripping from every word she spoke. “Really, you men and your misplaced pride. It’s ridiculous how foolish you can be when you think with your sword instead of your minds.”

“With our...m..Madam!” The look of shock on the poor scholar’s face would have been priceless any other day. But for some reason the stately lady of the house just wasn’t feeling the need to tease the scholar.

“So how are they doing this?” She made her way to her favorite chair as she spoke, dropping into it with a huff and staring out of the small cottage’s window. The drifting snowflakes outside caught her attention and she watched them dance their way to the ground as she listened to Solaris explain the situation.

“They’ll be sending soldiers to each house bearing invitations for each eligible female.”

“They’ll be tallying each one up too. Make sure they can count each household while they’re at it.” She grumped as she folded her arms on the window ledge and plopped her chin on her forearms.

“More than likely, yes. And adding to that they’ll send the same soldiers out the day of the ball to come and collect the women.” Namjoon chimed in. “They’ll claim it’s a safety precaution but more so it’s to ensure none of them run off.”

“Why would they do that?” Solaris blinked innocently, her dazed expression and glazed eyes giving away how little she understood of the situation. “A ball! Just imagine all of the beautiful dresses we would see. And all of the handsome young men!” Her giggle echoed through the silent cabin. It quickly died off when she realized neither of her companions were sharing in her excitement.

“Honestly, I forget sometimes you weren’t old enough to remember the war and how horrible things were for our kind.” Standing from her window seat she brushed at the gossamer fabric of her dress as if attempting to rid herself of some imagined dust. “When is this ball they have planned?”

“In three days. They’ll begin sending out soldiers in the morning.” Solaris replied, hanging her head sadly.

“I see. Sir Namjoon, we’ll resume my studies once I’ve returned.” She turned away from the teo, making her way to her room and beginning to pack a small selection of her belongings.

“Wh...Miss...what are you doing?” Solaris demanded as she sidestepped the whirlwind of a woman who was now packing small packages of dried meats and medicines from the storage area of the kitchen.

“I can’t be there. If they find me, find out who I am? I just...I have to go.” 

She finished packing, mind a cold void as her determination was already set. After informing the two where she was going she set off, hoping to escape whatever fate was trying to force her way.

***

The woods were lovely, dark, and deep.

She found herself sighing at the sounds that greeted her as she stepped from the tree line to survey her surroundings.

Before her and stretching far off into the horizon was a massive frozen lake, it's surface dappled by the hoof and paw prints of the many animals that dwelled in the safety of the forest beyond and refused to sleep the winter months away. A rare smile graced her lips, one almost as secretive as the hidden cave she turned and began to make her way towards.

Her steps became lighter as she crunched through the snow, the weight of the sudden announcement lifting from her shoulders as she stepped beneath the glistening blue stalactites. The interior was dimly lit from the light that gently filtered through from the ice that protected the entrance from prying eyes.

The only sound that echoed in the place were her unhurried footsteps and a gentle dripping that whispered to her from somewhere further back in the darkness. She'd visited here many times before, a quiet reprieve she'd found several summers ago when she'd come to the lake to escape the insufferable heat of the season.

The locals didn't visit it,claiming it to be haunted by a human's soul that'd taken up residency in the place a millennia ago, back before the wingless race had died off. It suited her perfectly well as it gave her the solitude she needed to allow her poor broken wings a chance to be free.

And she did just that as she dumped her pack beside the cold ashes of the firepit she'd made during her last visit. Unsnapping the corset that since her waist she allowed it to drop beside her pack and stretched out what remained of her wings.

The nerves had died off long ago, the burnt ends though still stung with the phantom pain, a dark reminder of the night her entire childhood was ripped away from her. She sighed, glancing over her shoulders and imagining the wings as they used to be, a swirl of silver color patterned with flames and snowflakes that gave her the glorious joy of flying through the freezing winter air.

Fluttering them once and then twice she stretched them, letting the cold cave air cool them after being compressed within her body heat for so long. It was a shame really, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it for too long, she had a camp to make and some relaxing to do.

***

Jungkook had had just about enough of his aides. They hovered at all hours of the day, incessant in their rambling about court protocol and how important it was to not start any fights with the locals. He was well aware.

He’d never even wanted the war that had ravaged the Winter Kingdom. Had begged his father and the generals to try peace over everything else. But in the end the words of a child had gone unheard by the war blinded adults.

So here he sat, shivering violently from the cold as those blasted tittering fools for his aides dashed around his chamber. He could have called on his flaming core to warm him, but after the first day of doing so only to find himself collapsed in the hall from using far too much energy, he’d just decided it was better to suffer the cold than to appear weak in front of his unfortunate enemies.

“Sire! We must leave now. You mustn’t be late for Lord Hoseok’s dance lessons!” The tiny mouse of a man squeaked, trying so very hard to appear contained and in charge despite the dark circles of worry beneath his eyes.

“Jimin, you know that even if I’m early Lord Hoseok will still grind me into the dust for not learning that infernal winter waltz faster.” The Prince frowned, taking in Jimin’s fear-streaked face.

“That may be Your Highness. But should you dally any longer you’ll be late for sword training with Sir Yoongi as well as etiquette lessons with Lord Seokjin. We have to stick to your schedule or they’ll all be displeased and tell your Father!” Jimin squeaked again, petite hands fluttering up to cover the trembling of his lips.

“My father is too busy planning out his next conquest to even pay half a mind to what’s going on with me or my ’schedule’. Never mind…” He sighed, getting up from the window seat he’d been staring out of and making his way out of his room.

“Have Taehyung meet me at dinner. I’ve got something to discuss with him.”

***

The day continued on, lesson after grueling lesson eating away at what little patience the prince had left.

He collapsed into his chair at dinner, too exhausted mentally and physically to pay any mind to the meal scattered out before him.

“Sire, Lord Taehyung has arrived.” 

Jungkook glanced up, a tired smile being all he could come up with for his friend.

“You look like a dog dug you up in the yard and used you as a chew toy then reburied you and shit on the pile of dirt.” The young man commented as he took his place beside the monarch in training.

“You know I could have your head for that.” Jungkook grumped as he tossed a pea from his plate in the young Lord’s direction.

“Ah, you could. But they’d have to catch me first.” His statement was emphasized by the pea he’d caught between two fingers.

He was nothing if not quick. He’d worked long ago as an assassin but now sat as Jungkook’s right hand man as well as his best friend.

Jungkook smiled, probably the first pleasant expression he’d worn in quite some time.

“So my great and glorious super Prince, future king of all that is boiling and frozen, to what do I owe this most prestigious of honors of being called upon and humble myself in your magnanimous presence?”

Jungkook just about choked on his water, laughing and coughing at the ridiculousness that was Taehyung’s words.

“By the flame you’ve been hanging out with Lord Seokjin again haven’t you?” He snorted, dabbing a napkin at his nose to clear out the water that’d streamed out while he was laughing.

“I mean, the man has great taste in puns. As a Master of many things it behooves me to learn the delicate art of insulting royalty at every turn without actually offending them.” Taehyung shrugged, spearing a chunk of glazed carrot and waving it through the air as he spoke.

“Well, I called you here for a favor actually.” The prince leaned forward, eyes taking in the unaffected assassin who’d busied himself munching on the food that Jungkook was decidedly ignoring.

“Is that so? Whelped a brat that needs hiding?”

Jungkook sputtered, cheeks a bright crimson as his eyes darted around the empty dining room.

“Taehyung!!”

“That’s a no. Only virgin cheeks brush that brightly at a subject like that.”

“I’ll have you know!!!”

“Hush now, poppa’s thinking.” Taehyung smirked at the flustered royal. “If it’s not that..hmm…” He tapped his chin, pretending to think long and hard while Jungkook tried to gather his bearings.

“You’ve insulted a young maiden and her father’s come a calling wanting reparations and you need the family off’d?”

“For the love of...Taehyung please!?”  Jungkook collapsed forward, head buried in his arms as he screamed silently into the table cloth. “You’re never allowed near Seokjin again I swear.”

Taehyung snorted, eyes dancing with glee at having gotten under his friend’s skin.

“So, you’re tired of the court and want to escape is it? Get away from the ball daddy King face arranged so you don’t have to marry some country bumpkin ice queen?”

“I!! Wait. No you’re right. That’s exactly it.” Jungkook’s head jerked up, his face a picture of surprise and awe at how astute the man before him was. “How did you know?”

“We’ve been friends for going on 12 years now my little dongsaeng. How could I not know that you’ve been pushed to your limit and need to escape?” Taehyung smiled, reaching across the table and patting Jungkook’s elbow.

“Don’t worry. Hyung will get you out of this castle. I’ll meet you on your balcony at midnight. Pack light and wear that disguise you’re hiding in that secret compartment at the back of your closet.” Taehyung rose, grabbing one last chicken leg as he began to make his way out of the room.

“How did you…” Before he could finish his sentence though the assassin was already gone, having disappeared into the shadowy hall with one last flirtatious wink thrown over his shoulder.

***

The escape from the castle was simple thanks to Taehyung. A cloak and some heavy clothing were enough to disguise the wings that marked the young Prince as the royal that he was.

The two friends departed with reassurances from Taehyung that he’d lead the guards on a few wild goose chases just long enough for the ball to have come and gone. Jungkook counted his lucky stars in thanks for the effectiveness he’d come to rely on in his friend for so many years.

He took flight, the snowflake and flame veins that marked his wings becoming a blur as he darted through the snow covered canopy of the woods that marked the southern boundary of the Winter kingdom’s capital city.

It didn’t matter where he ended up, he just flew, darting here and there through the trees with a freedom and joy he hadn’t enjoyed in flame only knows how long. He allowed his mind to wander, thoughts a chaotic jumble of hopes and dreams he only allowed himself to think of when he was alone in his rooms at night.

Something gave him pause as he flew. He’d been going for quite some time, but a strange light had flashed at him out of the corner of his eye. A blue glittering affair that’d appeared between the trees despite the woods being pitch dark and most of his vision having been obscured by the blur of fluttering snowflakes.

He pulled up quick, wings only barely straining to keep him from slamming into the trunk of a massive tree that’d been in his way. He twisted in the air, eyes seeking the glow and spotting it as the reflection of a strange light glittering off of the surface of a massive frozen lake.

He moved towards it, allowing his curiosity to guide him on. Stopping short at the edge of the lake he hovered, shielding him from view of the woman dancing on the glowing ice.

It was the strangest thing he’d seen, the way the light shone on her twirling frame as she danced through the snow. It was almost as if the entirety of existence had paused for this one moment. Icicles on the tree branches around him chimed their tune, a melody gifted to his ears from the whispering wind to lend a soft winter’s melody to the racing of his aching heart. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, the whirling ice Princess giggling in the snow.

His wings fluttered, prisms of warm light glancing off her form and highlighting the broken and burned stubs of her wings. He knew the look of those wounds and it hurt to think that at some point the war that had torn their nations apart could have taken the joy of flight from such a beautiful fairy. Without thinking he allowed himself to be lifted through the air, his body reacting first to the pull of the sight of her and second to the musicality of her voice as she sang to the winter’s breeze.

The effort of drifting against the freezing weather proved to be too much for the flame that flickered in his core though. His wings faltered, frost having formed along their tips and weighing them down. The ice of the frozen lake rushed towards him and he couldn’t help the cry of fear that broke free of his chest as he crashed through the thick ice. The last he saw of the enchanting maiden was her panicked gaze, eyes wide at the intrusion and lips parted in a frantic yell as his head sunk beneath the surface.

***

A warmth brushed against his skin and he shivered, subconsciously shimmying his body closer to it. His eyelids felt weighed down by the cold, unable to open as he groaned in protest of the aching cold that stiffened his joints and limbs.

“Hush now, the fire will warm you. Just rest and let the heat do its job.”

The soft melody of the femanine voice eased his mind and he buried himself deeper beneath the heavy furs that surrounded his body.

The woman meanwhile continued to stoke the fire, having long since dried herself after diving in to save the hulking form of the foolish fire fairy that’d allowed himself to be pulled into the lake.

She turned her head, shyly eyeing his form as he breathed softly beneath the furs. She couldn’t help but allow herself to admire his soft sleeping face. Watched as his long eyelashes brushed his cheeks and admired the chiseled shape of his jaw.

She was sure that if he were awake his smile would be soft but wide, imagining teeth nibbling at his lower lip as he chuckled at some joke while doe like eyes glittered with his mirth.

Shaking her head she slapped her cheeks. What was wrong with her!? No matter how handsome he might seem this man was an enemy to her people! She scoffed at her own foolishness, though the sound was caught short as she began to question herself.

If he was an enemy why had she risked her life to save him? She’d known instantly from the way the frost had clung to his wings from the brief glimpse she’d caught of him before he’d been pulled beneath the surface of the waves exactly what he was. And yet when she’d seen those soft...brown...panicked eyes sink within the icy grip of the lake something had screamed from within her to save him. It had been pure instinct at the time.

And now as she sat by the fire, admiring the flames as they danced across their wooden fuel she allowed herself to turn her attention back to the strange ache that twisted at her shoulder blades. It’d crept up her spine as she’d been dancing earlier. As the moon’s rays had shone upon her and just before she’d spotted the crashing flame fairy.

She stretched her arms above her head, willing the dull pain to go away. And though her muscles relaxed and her mind stilled the ache remained, just at the base of her wings and tingling up nerves that she’d assumed long dead and gone. It had to have been the heat of the fire.

And so, after tossing a few more logs upon the flame and checking that her rescue was well and truly asleep and tucked in she walked back out into the cold. Her hopes were that the freezing snow would numb the nerves that seemed to want to awaken. As much as she missed flying through blizzards and dancing through the air with the winter cardinals she didn’t much mind having lost them. It was preferred honestly, as those things she missed always reminded her of the one who’d taught her those joys and she just couldn’t bear the thought of being reminded of her beloved and dearly departed mother.

After an hour or so of allowing herself to wander the secluded forest she made her way back to her cave, wings sufficiently numbed and mind at ease. Though the peaceful mindset was instantly chased away when she came back to see the young man she’d rescued moaning and tossing beneath the furs.

Dashing over she dropped to her knees, fingers frantic as she chased his forehead and placed her icy palm against his burning cheeks. Hissing she jerked her hand back. It was known the flame lords ran much hotter than those of her kind, but this amount of heat was worrying. Rising quickly she raced to her pack, pulling out herbs and medicines, sorting through them and selecting a few she knew to be safe for him.

Back to the fire she went, grabbing her tea kettle and filling it with snow from the entrance to melt above the flames. As the kettle began to boil she tossed in the herbs, eyes anxiously darting back and forth to the trembling form that groaned feverishly for his father .

“Hush now dear, I’ll help I promise.” She mumbled, more to comfort herself as she waited for the medicine to brew.

Once it was ready she ladled it into a cup, blowing desperately on it to cool it as she knelt once more by his side. Pushing away a portion of the skins she lifted his head into her lap, brushing at the black hairs that clung to his forehead from the sweat as she cooed softly to him.

“Here now dear one, open your eyes, I need you to take this.” 

He was much too weak to reply to her, muttering in his feverish sleep about poisons and dungeons.

“It’s not poison. It’s holy basil and chamomile. Now drink. It’ll take the fever away.” Her whispered words seemed to calm him. Bringing the cup to his lips she smiled softly as he drank eagerly from the medicine. Eventually he turned his head away, breathing heavily and moaning to himself. The deep husk of his voice twisted her insides, causing a blush to rush to her cheeks as the silken strands of his hair brushed down over his eyes.

She hadn’t noticed that the sides of his head were shaved, something those in the military and the aristocrats of the fire nation tended to do when important events came up.

He must have been intending on going to that fool prince’s ball. She hummed to herself, finding it hard to allow the bitterness that would normally form at the sight of him to rise up within her. He just seemed far too innocent while he slept in her lap. 

Shaking away the butterflies that tried to rise in her stomach she laid him back down on the makeshift pillow she’d made of a rolled up deerskin and tucked the pile of heavier skins back around him. It would take a dose or two more of the medicine to break the fever but she was determined now. He just had to live or the emotions that rose within her would never let her live her own life in peace again.

*** It was unfathomable how two days of caring for someone in such a state could raise such an attachment in her. She’d wiped his brow so many times she’d become familiar with every scar and divot on his face, making up stories for each as to how he could have gotten them.

On the third day he finally awoke, still groggy from the medicated tea but coherent enough to begin eating the gruel she’d made for him.

“Eat slowly now. There’s no point in rushing if you’re just going to throw it all up later.” She whispered to him, knowing that if she spoke any louder the echoes of the cave would only give him a headache.

“Why are you caring for me like this?” he asked, glancing up at her through his eyelashes as he spooned another bite into his mouth.

“I...well.” She paused for a moment, fingers picking at the frayed wood of the stick she’d been using to stoke the fire.

“My mother always taught me that kindness is more important than any grudge we could hold.” Looking up she gave him a soft smile, though a bit of her pain showed through at the mention of the dearly departed Queen.

“She must have been a great lady.” Placing the bowl and spoon at his side he leaned back against the roughened cave walls, finally allowing his gaze to take in the woman that had saved his life.

She was just as beautiful as his glimpsed image of her had led him to believe, though his heart sank one more when he spotted the burnt nubs that were her wings. He thought for a moment to question her on it, but common sense stopped him halfway to opening his mouth. There was no way that wasn’t a touchy subject, so he left well enough alone.

Instead he allowed his gaze to wander the cave, taking in the rough hewn walls and the way she’d seemed to have made the place her own. Herbs hung from the walls on pegs, bundles of various types each used to treat various injuries and ailments. Though by the way they were hung he suspected they’d been put there more as decoration than anything else.  The fire lit the area up nicely, allowing him to see much further into the cave than he’d expected.

Looking closely he noticed that a lot of the formations he thought to be ice drippings were actually some type of crystal. Though he didn’t recognize them he realized pretty quickly that they were absorbing the light from the fire and projecting that light almost like a torch.

“So...is this your home or…”

“Oh goodness no. I reside in town, I’m just here to get away.” She shook her head, giving off a soft giggle that had his heart soaring.

“I can understand that sentiment. Things were rapidly becoming stifling out there. One could hardly blame a lovely young fae such as yourself for wanting to get away.” He chuckled, his grin widening as she blushed at his compliment.

“Is...is that why you were out in the storm? To get away?”

He nodded as he tucked his hands beneath the fur skins. “Duty to your people can only push you so far before it starts to take over who you are. I wasn’t about to let my father dictate who I was going to become any longer. He’s made enough rash decisions to ruin an entire kingdom, I won’t have myself become a part of that any longer.”

The young man’s words rolled over in her mind, bouncing off the image before her along with the events that had brought her to this very cave.

It wasn’t too hard to put together that he was the young prince and a moment of anger had her clutching the stick in her hand and very seriously considering killing him right then and there.

His father was the reason her parents were dead and her kingdom had burned after all. There was no one here to witness it if she did. And yet a small voice in the recesses of her mind held her back and stayed her hand.

She thought over his words once more, realizing he’d wanted the war no more than she had. What his father had chosen and done should not have been laid on his shoulder.

Placing the stick beside her she began speaking to him. Asking him questions about his childhood and giving her own answers when he asked in turn. They spent the night like this, conversing on any subject that came to mind while avoiding their own identities as much as possible.

The sun outside began to rise and still they spoke, bonding over shared misfortunes and shared goals and dreams when it came to their respective kingdoms.

Unbeknownst to them their mutual feelings for each other began to grow. When she led him out into the light on unsteady feet and he slipped but a little, only for her to catch him, an exchange of touches, barely brief though it may have been, ignited a flame within them both.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and breathing in the frozen scent of her, a crisp smell like the first cold snap of winter. 

“You are...ethereal...did you know that?” He whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth away from her own.

She hummed, mind a haze as her eyelashes fluttered close.”You smell of ash and coal...like roasting over an open fire on a warm summer’s day.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill of excitement through her. “And is that so bad little snowflake?”

“No...I don’t think it is…”

***

The day finally came when the young Prince found himself strong enough to walk on his own. His fever had long since gone and the color was finally beginning to come back to his cheeks.

“You know...we could always just stay here.”

She glanced up at his words, pausing in stirring the stew she’d been cooking over the fire. “What do you mean?”

“Neither of us wants to go back. And well...I rather prefer things out here compared to the hustle and bustle of my normal life.” He picked at a loose bit of string on his clothes, refusing to meet her gaze as he let her mull over his proposal.

“I...hmm.” Sitting back on her heels she stared into the fire. It was tempting, the idea of leaving the stress of her life behind. Having to pretend she wasn’t who her people needed her to be.

“They’ve been too long without a leader.” She whispered.

“I’m sorry?”

Their gazes met, each burning with their own inner fire.

“My people. I may be broken, but they need me. Just as yours need you. One day we’ll have to lead and running away isn’t going to make any of what happened okay.”

Simple words though they may have been they struck a cord in him. More so than anything the multitude of scholars and aids and so called guides could have done. He nodded, determination filling him.

“I may not be able to change much, but one day I will lead, and things will have to change. My father is getting old, as are his war mongering generals…” His words stuttered to a stop, a blush coloring his features as he realized his misstep. “I uh...I mean…”

She couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Don’t worry little Prince. I am well aware of who you are.”

“But..how..”

“Your words may seem subtle or simple but your demeanor can’t be hidden.” She rose, abandoning the spoon she’d been using in the pot.

“And now, I am Y/n the last of the winter fairy monarchs, Princess of Winter and future Queen of my people. It’s an honor to meet you Sire.” With that she bowed, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Wait you’re what?? Who?? But how, we were told you and your family…”

“Burned?” Straightening she turned slightly, her wings on display. “My father died fighting yours. And my mother died protecting me. No I did not come out of that battle unscarred.”

“But...why…”

“Why am I telling you?” She tilted her head at him as she returned to stirring the meal.

“I saved your life and nursed you back to health, your people call this a life debt, no?”

He nodded, suddenly realizing just how much he owed her.

“Well, consider this calling in that life debt. A pact between friends you could say. Keep my identity a secret, and on the day you ascend the crown you will find yourself an ally in me.” She smiled, passing him a bowl of the stew.

“That…that’s putting a lot in a man you’ve barely known a fortnight.” He accepted the bowl graciously, barely suppressing a moan at the flavors that danced across his tongue.

“That may be. But life debts are held over everything in your culture. I can trust that above anything else you could give me.”

He huffed, running his fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his head. She’d noticed it was something he did when he was thinking hard on something and had come to find it endearing.

“I mean, I’d have kept your secret even without the pact but...if you insist on calling that as your favor I supposed I truly have no choice.”

The giggle that spilled forth from her made his heart clench and he couldn’t help but grin at her in return, his cheek dimpling and his nose crinkling like a snow bunny.

“It’s settled then.” She announced, standing and taking his now empty food bowl to be washed out.

“Oh? What’s settled?” He stood as well, pulling the empty stew pot from the fire to cool.

“I’ll be taking you back to town come morning and...oh…” She stumbled, her legs suddenly buckling beneath her.

If it hadn’t been for the flame fairy’s quick reflexes she’d have surely injured herself. But his strong arms wrapped around her,pulling her close and checking her over to make sure she was okay.

“By the flame, you’re going to get yourself hurt doing all that!” He frowned, fingertips running along the ridges of her shoulder blades as he watched her blink blurrily up at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked his frown deepening as she leaned into his touch, lashes brushing her cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut.

“Y/n?” Panic surged through him as he lifted her limp form into his arms.

Where normally her skin was as cold as a winter’s stream it now burned almost as hot as he was and that set him on edge more so than anything ever had in his life. His heart raced as he trudged through the cave and out into the cold morning snow of the forest.

He thanked his flame for the sense of direction Taehyung had instilled in him so many times over the years as his body instinctively turned in the direction of the winter city they’d come from. His wings gave an experimental flutter, barely lifting him off the ground and for the first time since his fall he actually cursed at himself for his midwinter plunge into the icy lake. Walking was his only option.

He continued on through the forest,  moving here and there through the trees in as direct a path as he could manage, all the while whispering soft sweet words of comfort to her when she would toss about in her feverish state.

The only time she paused and relaxed was when the sun would shine through the tree, though Jungkook paid no mind to this, only grateful that she allowed him the reprieve to march on with little struggle.

“N...Namjoon.” She whispered, and for a moment his heart sank. Who was this Namjoon she spoke of? Some lover she never mentioned in all the time they’d spent together.

“Scholar...physician…”

A spark of understanding coursed through him and his steps quickened with a renewed vigor as he came to the edge of the city. A few curt words and ignored glances and he’d arrived at the physician’s clinic, panting from the exertion and praying to every deity he could name that the one she’d spoken of was home.

“Sir! Good Physician! I have need of your aid!” Jungkook announced, using his elbow to force the large wooden door open.

The sound of crashing and halfhearted curses came from some dark corner of the clinic and a tall winter fairy emerged, glasses barely hanging off the tip of his nose as he squinted across the room at the Prince.

“What can I do for you today?” He asked, voice gruff from sleep as he moved closer to Jungkook.

“W...y/n?? Wait, how did she?”

“You know her then? We were out by the lake when she suddenly took ill. I don’t know..what or how but she’d burning up!” 

“Bring her to the table!” The physician rushed off, motioning to a large wooden table towards the center of the room. 

Jungkook complied, ever so delicately placing her down and stepping back to allow the man to work.

As he began examining her he threw a slew of endless questions at the shaken prince who himself was near to collapsing from exhaustion.

“I...I don’t know. She was eating just fine, talking and laughing and it seemed like she was okay. But suddenly...she just collapsed. I just…” His fingers nervously tapped a rhythm on his thighs as his eyes darted around the clinic, searching or hoping for something to look at to ground his mind in the moment.

“Mmm..I’m sure it’s just a cold, or some sort of illness. Though...she’s never been sick a day in her life..” The bespectacled man mumbled to himself as he pressed his fingers against her wrist, checking her pulse and sighing to himself as he stepped away.

“There are a few things I can try just to ease the fever and whatever pain she may be feeling but this is going to take some time…”

“I...I’ll stay with her! I can’t just leave her like this!”

“Your highness...You really should be getting back to the palace.”

“How…” Jungkook’s jaw dropped, eyes bugging out as he stared in fear at the man before him.

“You carry yourself too well to just be some fire nation soldier off the street. And besides, I was there during your coronation. You held yourself well considering the obvious hangover you were sporting.” 

A brilliant blush rose on the Prince’s cheeks as he attempted to sputter out a response. The physician chuckled, patting him amiably on the shoulder.

“Worry not, I’ll do everything I can to ease her pain. I’ll send word to the palace once I know anything. Be off M’lord, you’ve duties to attend to.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the lingering longing look he gave her, a sigh escaping his lips as he resigned himself to the waiting game.

Namjoon frowned as the prince finally left. It’d taken a considerable amount of bribing and fussing to get him to finally walk away but the fact that the young man lingered so long worried him.

“What did you get yourself into this time…” 

***

Panic filled the small room of the physician’s clinic.

He’d spent the last few hours trying every remedy and potion he could find and still her condition deteriorated.

A scream of frustration built in his chest, only barely suppressed by the need to care for her. He sat at his desk, pouring over tomes of old and tossing each aggressively across the room when they proved to be of no use to him.

“Fate’s sake!” He growled, standing from his desk and shoving the chair out behind them.

She’d begun whimpering in her feverish state, every now and again whispering desperate pleas for help and wrenching the knife deeper in his chest. He felt useless, dropping to his knees on the floor beside her and clutching at her hand.

“Tell me, please? How can I help you? What is it that you need?” He whimpered, tears filling his eyes. “How do I save you?”

“M...mommy….tell me a story…”

The words didn’t register at first. Another sentence to him in a long line of whispered desperation.

But a brief flash of recognition hit. “Merialiies…”

He bolted upright, eyes wide and wild with inspiration.

“There’s no way!”

Racing back to his desk he shoved the books and papers out of his way, searching for the small book of tales he’d picked up at the shops a few weeks back.

A shout of triumph burst forth as he held it aloft, eyes glistening with hope as he flipped the pages to one particular story.

“The Heart’s Twin Flames.” He turned to y/n, watching her shift on the table as if trying desperately to escape some pain in her back. “There’s just no way…”

Making his way back he ever so gently turned her to her side, eyes widening at the inflamed skin spreading out across her back from the base of her wings.

“Could it be?” Dropping everything he lifted her into his arms, cringing at the sounds of pain coming from his precious cargo.

“Just hold on, I’ll take you to him. If I’m right...you may just get your wings back.”

He hurried from the clinic, not even paying mind that he’d left the front door open to swing in the wind. 

“Move! Please get out of my way. This is an emergency!” He shouted, shoving his way through the crowd of villagers lining the walkways as he raced towards the castle.

The front gates loomed before him, almost imposing if it weren’t for the sheer amount of panic flowing through him.

“Halt! State your business.” A soldier stepped before him, massive sword held at his throat .

Namjoon showed no fear, spine straight and shoulders squared as he stood his ground against the intimidating soldier.

“I’ve come at the request of his Highness Prince Jungkook of the Fire Fae kingdom. It is of the utmost importance that I speak with him immediately.”

The soldier continued to glare as a second stepped forward and the show of force began to deflate him.

“You don’t understand! I need to see him! It’s his twin flame! He found her and now without him she will die!”

“A likely story! Today is the day of his ball and you expect me to believe that suddenly a woman is his twin flame and without him she will die?” The guards chuckled together, heads thrown back with laughter as they continued to mock him.

“Sir, please! I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to! She’s dying. There must be something we can do?!”

The guard shook his head, a steely gaze pinning the poor man in place. It was obvious he wasn’t moved by their story.

“No matter the reason these gates were ordered to remain closed. Should you have proper documents the case would be different but there is nothing I can do for you. Find her a doctor, or some sort of specialist. But find them somewhere else.”

“Have you no heart man!? We’ve seen the doctor, hell I AM the doctor! There’s nothing more to do for her but get the Prince’s help! Please you must understand?? Surely you’ve heard the legends, are they not told to your children? They are fated to be! The proof is right here!” Namjoon was practically purple in the face by this point, spittle flying as he screamed in the face of the guard who’s grip was forever tightening on his spear. 

Unbeknownst to the arguing pair and barely conscious woman the fae in question had heard everything.

“Sir?” One of the many aids that had been walking with the future ruler gave him a questioning stare, wondering what their next action would be.

“There’s no harm in finding out Jimin. I’m more than suited to handle things should there be any threat.” Prince Jungkook smiled, a rare sight on the man as he handed over the documents they’d been going over as they walked from the main castle to the stables.

“Alright. I’ll take these back to the stable master in your stead. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

The prince grinned, bumping his aid in the shoulder with his elbow. “Now when have I ever done anything stupid?”

“Need I remind you of the state you were in last night?”

“Can’t hear you! Walking away now!” Prince Jungkook tossed over his shoulder as he made his way to the woven metal grating that served as the castle’s front gate.

For a moment he hung back in the shadows, eyeing the tall bespectacled man who seemed to have an almost vice like death grip on the tiny quivering bundle of rags in his arms.

The snow that had been falling began to ease up, revealing a small crowd that had gathered behind them all. As the guard and nameless man argued the townsfolk began to chime in, screaming curses at him and bickering with every word he spoke.

The Prince’s temper only flared when the first stone was thrown, something seemingly so small that it would have been noticeable if it weren’t for the fact that it’d hit the bundle’s back, causing a small squeak of pain to echo through the gateway. He knew that squeak.

“What’s going on here?” He puffed his chest out, spine straight and eyes fierce as he allowed the flames of rage to flow through him. Striding forward with all of the ego and confidence that his position afforded he stepped between the man and the crowd. The mere sight of him had those gathered scurrying away, hollered apologies tossed over snow covered shoulders as they dashed off to whatever tasks they’d been attending to before allowing their chicken like rubbernecking to get the better of their attention.

“Y..your Highness. I just...” The man stuttered, shifting the tiny bundle of cloth in his arms as he struggled to push through his own confusion and panic at seeing the regal object of his desperation appearing before him.

“Guard, can you explain to me why it is that you’ve allowed a mob of people to gather at the entrance to my future home?”

“He was...he just wanted…”

“Sire please! It’s y/n, she needs your help!”

“Y/n?” This peaked his interest. “Is she alright? Is...what happened? I only just saw her a few hours ago!”

“Sire, she fell terribly ill and what was left of her wings has begun flaking off. If we don’t act quickly there’s...there’s just no hope of saving her.” 

Prince Jungkook glanced around, indecision causing him to hesitate for a moment as he watched his guards scanning the surrounding area.

“Alright, bring her inside, we’ll take her to my physi…”

“Sire please, she doesn’t have time for that!” Namjoon couldn’t help the tone of his voice as he shouted at the intimidating man. “You have to help her now, she’s dying the longer we talk about this!”

He dropped to his knees, unwrapping the blanket from the woman’s trembling form and carefully laying her body on the glistening snow.

Jungkook’s feet crunched through the snow, eyes squinted as he shielded them from the glare of the sun reflecting sharply off the glow surrounding the dying woman’s form. A strange itch began in the center of his shoulder blades, that spot he could never reach where his wings joined with the muscles of his back.

Shrugging off his cloak he knelt beside her, heart racing as the strange feeling in his wings slowly spread to the rest of him. The sun burst through the clouds, shining brightly and warming his exposed skin as his fingers brushed her cheek.

“My liege, all you have to do is allow the sun to shine through your wings and onto her. That alone is enough.” Namjoon whispered as he stepped back from them and allowed them their space.

Jungkook couldn’t help but to hesitate. There were so many things that could go wrong should he allow himself to listen to this strange man. If it were a track of some sort his kingdom would suffer if anything happened to him. But as he watched her pained face scrunch once more and as the sound of her pitiful whimper reached his ears his resolve steeled.

Leaning forward he spread his wings, allowing the light of the sun to cast a prism of reflected light over her body. The air filled with a magic the kingdom hadn’t seen in a very long time. Golden dust motes filled the air, sparkling like fireflies out in the mid-day glow. It attracted those that’d hurried away, gathering them in the square and on the streets.

The soldiers shouted, weapons raised in alarm as they watched their fearless leader begin to rise into the air alongside the small wingless form that he cradled so closely to his chest. But just as suddenly as their alarm and rage and fear rose it began to vanish, replaced instead with a calm joy that thrilled through their veins quicker than an adrenaline fueled march into the battlefield.

The people began to cheer as the two bodies were engulfed in light that shone so bright it began to rival the sun. And all along the young man couldn’t take his eyes off her form.

The woman that’d given him shelter in that freezing midnight cave. Her once frail body began to fill with life, color returning to her cheeks and her weak fingers gaining strength as they clung to his royal clothes. Her eyes fluttered open, a gasp escaping her lips as where once there was only burned stumps, now beautiful crystalline wings sprouted forth from her body, fluttering on the breeze before quickly gaining the strength to allow her to hover on her own.

And his own wings lost their brilliant red glow, cooling and shimmering as he beat them gently to keep him aloft.

The glow surrounding them faded and a hush fell over the crowd at the sight. A tiny waif of a girl engulfed in the strong arms of the royal flame.

“My love.”

“My twin flame.”

“I never got to thank you for saving my life.” His words caused her to blush as she looked at him through her eyelashes.

“I think you just did…”

Their hushed voices whispered words of comfort as their bodies slowly returned to earth. They’d only had eyes for each other, but as their feet returned to the earth that’d born them they turned to the people, each smiling with a joy that the once warring people felt throughout the lands. Warriors dropped their weapons, embracing the people they’d fought with for so very long.

Jungkook turned to the winter maiden, long,calloused fingers engulfing her own as he leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers.

“My love, how could I not have recognized you for what you were?”

“My sweet future king. Fate has a strange way of finding lovers and putting them together when the world needs their love the most.” She smiled, warm tears filling her eyes as her heart filled with a warmth only he could provide.

As one they turned to their people, joined hands raising into the air as Jungkook announced.

“I have found my Twin Flame. May peace rain on our kingdoms with the union of our joined blood! May you all find the joy my heart has been seeking. For from this moment on there will be no war, there will be no fighting. WE ARE ONE!!”

The people cheered, warriors embraced farmers, aristocrats feasted among peasants. Fire embraced ice. And as their lips met in a dewy kiss filled with all of the passion of new love, peace did reign. For they were now one.

[catharsis-in-a-bottle]

AHSDHFHHJKKHD

THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT. WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. 

[spoilers below if you haven’t seen it and you want to]

Here are some of my (not in any particular order) bullet points. This is gonna be long as hell because, you know, brain dumps amiright

First off, Anya Taylor-Joy’s acting. Is just incredible. In particular moments, you can tell what she’s thinking with a simple hand gesture or with the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. She develops Beth’s signature facial expressions and movements throughout the show, and you just feel like you know her. And during her chess matches, sometimes it feels like she’s staring into your soul. Especially when she gives that badass chin-on-the-hands look and she knows she’s going to win. Powerful energy.

Secondly, I fucking knew I recognized Harry Beltik from somewhere else but my mom didn’t BELIEVE me and then I looked up the actor and he’s DUDLEY DURSLEY, I WAS RIGHT MOTHER, I WAS RIGHT

I love love love how they didn’t make, like, a major romantic plotline. Beth doesn’t end up with a partner - she ends with a bunch of super supportive friends that have her back by the time she gets to Moscow, and like, she has a crush on Townes but they end up being just like super good and healthy friends and I love it?? So much?? Thank you producers

Townes. Just, in general. I really like his character, he’s super nice and his voice is oddly soothing

BORGOV. I LOVE BORGOV. HE IS SO GODDAMN RESPECTFUL. Like, he seemed like a very cold character at first - well-mannered and extremely professional, yes, but rather cold. But when she wins in Moscow? “It is your game. Take it.” I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. AND HE HUGS HER AND STARTS CLAPPING AND THE AMOUNT OF RESPECT AND ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION IN THAT SCENE IS INCREDIBLE. And you don’t see any of that in Borgov’s face when he’s playing. His facial expressions do not change at all. But then his face when she wins!! He’s HAPPY! He’s like, goddamn, I’ve spent my whole life mastering chess, it’s about time somebody fucking beat me! I know I’m repeating myself but just his RESPECT I absolutely adore it

And Beth’s officer-watcher-person in Moscow was all like “ahhh be wary of the Russians! communism!!” but they absolutely did not make this yet another evil Russian show, like please that trope works for plots but it’s about time somebody did something different - they showed the US government as suspicious of the Soviets but then they showed the solidarity between the chess players that Benny talked about earlier (”The Russians work together, Americans work alone” or something like that), and then they showed the kind and excitable people on the streets, and the amount of support they would have had no matter WHO won that goddamn match. The old man she plays at the end. Everyone is a community.

Continuing that - I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the old man with the very puffy white hair, but I loved him too. He sees Beth as the rising star she is, and he respects her. He admires her. The dynamic there is absolutely immaculate, contrary to the dynamic between Beth and the man she beats earlier, the one who walks off and doesn’t even talk to her. We don’t like that man - we like the ones who admit defeat and respect Beth!! I love them!! They are extremely professional, and they show the warm-heartedness that often doesn’t show with all of the cold stares and glares that pass between players during matches.

Joline. I’m so glad she came back. I love her. She’s extremely independent but she comes back for Beth because Beth needs her but she’s also like “I’m not your savior! Get your shit together!” which is fucking awesome. And the fact that the two of them interacted like the best of friends even after years of separation was really sweet to me.

I nearly cried when Beth went back into the school. (I say ‘nearly’ because there were other people in the room and naturally I can’t do that in front of other people. If I was utterly alone, maybe on my own planet, I would have.) Because of all of it. Because of her trauma, because that’s where all the shit began... and the music during that scene. It was hauntingly beautiful, especially when the melody began switching to cello. And then Beth saw all the pictures and newspaper clips that Mr. Shaibel had saved, because he cared about her so much, because he started it all - he’s the reason she’s going to national tournaments, to Paris, to Moscow. And in that scene, we know he’s too old to be alive anymore, and she does too. The whole school scene in general just feels so ghostly and ethereal. 

I love Borgov, did I say that already? I just... strive to exude his energy. I want to be good at things but I want to hold deep, genuine respect and admiration for others who are also good at the thing, because sometimes I just have the biggest fucking ego and I can get carried away. ‘Borgov, Borgov, Borgov.’ A mantra. He wins respectfully and he loses respectfully. 

BETH’S MOTHER (the second one) JUST FUCKING DIED OUT OF NOWHERE?? AND I WAS SO SHOCKED? Which is really an accurate reflection of reality because death often comes out of nowhere, but DAMN I was not expecting that shit

And the fact that the mother just,,,, let her chug a beer,,,, oof

THE ADDICTION. BETH’S DOWNWARD SPIRAL. IT MADE ME FEEL SO HORRIBLE BUT IT FELT SO REAL. Everything about her progression through addiction was just... I can’t find an adjective. But when she just fucking inhaled that bucket of pills as a kid and then collapsed. When that addiction lasted into her adulthood - it’s really impactful and horrible and just so real. She needed proper care throughout this entire goddamn show and she never got medical care, she just got supportive friends - which, btw, that’s one thing that kind of threw me off. Like, she didn’t have withdrawal in Moscow, she went from chugging like four bottles of wine a day to... not drinking at all?? Without withdrawal symptoms?? And I’m proud of her for throwing away those pills but honestly it felt really fast, idk

GIVING CHILDREN TRANQUILIZERS WAS AN ACTUAL THING THAT HAPPENED. I DID NOT PREVIOUSLY KNOW THIS. BUT LEGITIMATELY, IT HAPPENED. HOLY SHIT.

HARRY BELTIK. He was like, awkwardly in love with Beth and that shit didn’t work out but even afterwards he FUCKING CARED. He’d seen his father drink himself to death and he knew that would happen to Beth and he was scared. So he came back, he tried to help her, and at that point (when she had that fucking scary eye makeup, yeah that was rock bottom) she didn’t care much about the outside world anymore. She was angry, and she was closing herself in. It made my stomach clench in physical pain. Which is a good thing. But also not.

Harry Beltik in general just being so supportive and wanting to help her though, like yeah it was very awkward, but they were vibing

AND BENNY WATTS IS FUCKING GREAT. THAT WHOLE COWBOY LOOK, COWBOY CHESS PLAYER, NOW THAT’S AN AESTHETIC. He was concerned for Beth too. He wanted to help her. He wanted to create that American solidarity that he knew the Soviet competitors had, and ultimately he did when he and everyone else called her in Moscow. Benny is... chaotic good? Neutral? He is quite an interesting character, and Beth’s persistent social awkwardness fades away with him because he knows how to interact with her. He’s a dedicated and smart narcissist, and I’m here for it.

The fact that they made me love and hate Cleo at the same time, and also question Beth’s sexuality when she first met Cleo. Like, she’s from Paris. She considers ‘tomorrow night’ to be a very long time away. I love her mysteriousness. But also, she was the catalyst for Beth’s downward drinking spiral before the match in Paris, so like... I like Cleo’s personality, but not her choices in those previous moments.

The music. Did I mention the music? The soundtrack. The orchestrals. That one song that the mother plays on piano that I hear all the time and I still don’t actually know what it is PLEASE HELP. The music is melancholy in the right moments, upbeat in the right moments, intense and suspenseful in the right moments - and also absent in the right moments. There’s tacet. There’s silence. And it’s always been my firm belief that silence can hold just as much impact as sound. 

Just an interesting note, my mom watched the whole show before me and then re-watched it with me, and when Mr. Shaibel showed up she quickly reassured me that he wasn’t a child molester, because quote “it may be a creepy basement but he’s just really nice” so...  I was reassured

I love Mr. Shaibel, and Beth just kept sticking up for him in front of the press and,,, yeah

I hated that bitch from the high school, what was her name?... The one who showed up in the store with a child? It makes me think about the fact that so many kids are just jerks in high school simply because they can be... and occasionally their fuckery lasts into adulthood but oftentimes it doesn’t. You don’t have to be a jerk when you’re an adult, and you don’t have to be a jerk in high school! People remember, people always remember! So, to the bitch from the high school: fuck you for making Beth feel like an outsider and then trying to reverse gears and accept her, cuz Beth isn’t falling for that shit.

The twins, Matt and Mike. They’re so doubtful of Beth in the beginning but then bam, she’s competing nationally, and I adore how the three of them become friends. All those men playing chess in Kentucky in the beginning seem so condescending, but ultimately they show respect because Beth absolutely fucking deserves it.

I enjoy the fact that we never *really* know Beth’s age. It’s just like... she’s 9, she’s 15, she’s 17, she’s... twenty something? Who the hell knows? As many characters say, when it comes to skill level, age ultimately isn’t an important factor. This young woman beats the oldest man with the bushiest white hair in Moscow and age. Does not. Matter. 

The Jesus people lmaooooo when Beth said “because it’s fucking nonsense” I just. Mad respect ma’am, don’t take their money, go be a communist and “sPrEaD tHe aThEiSt AgEnDa”

Wow I really just... wrote all that didn’t I damn wish I could write essays this fast at reasonable hours of the day

Beth’s relationship with her foster mother is so fucking sweet until she fucking dies

And fuck Beth’s legal father. He is an asshole. That is all.

The mother deserved Manuel, she deserved that sketchy Mexican salesman goddammit

As my final bullet point: This has made me want to play chess. This has made me want to get good at chess. You know that thing where you like, download the personality of the coolest character for like a day after you watch something... I don’t do that anymore (maybe), but I want to download those mad chess skills. This has made chess seem so cool. I want to wear a fancy suit and compete with people. I just have to, you know, actually develop some strategy and stop losing brutally against people online. I wAnT tO pLaY cHesS dO yOu HeAr mE

I’m going to stop now, but I just,,, peeps, I love this show. I’m absolutely going to require a re-watch in the future. I just love it. The characters and their development, their relationships with each other, the progression of time and of Beth’s maturity... it is simply incredible. This concludes my brain dump.

[shanzodragoness]

On the back of my previous post, I couldn't resist to help fill a gap in fics. Here I am.

Title: An Old Flame

Tags: a bit sad, fluff, but don't worry it gets better

Notes: you work for Stark, after taking the wrong turn you find yourself in the hands of the TVA and promptly pruned. Not saying much else as it'll spoil the fun

My sincerest apologies if this is substandard, this is my first reader fic and the first written in second person. This took me a while bc the feels were intense. Enjoy

Y/F/F - your favourite flower

Words: 1622

----

Your nexus event was confusing. The TVA claimed that you were fated to turn the other way when the Avengers returned to Stark Tower with their newest intergalactic villain. But for some reason you noticed the stare of those blue eyes from across the hall. You noted the muzzle; probably for a good reason. Curiosity carried your feet across the tiled floor and you heard footsteps behind you. 

Fast forward an undisclosed amount of time and you were in a court, one that seemed very biased without a juror in sight. You had cocked your head when the judge sentenced you to be reset, what could that possibly mean, could you amend your mistake and simply go back to retrace your steps but as they were meant to be?

It seemed that you weren't getting away with your so-called crime so easily as one of the minutemen approached you with a stick. It wasn't until it was twisted and whirred to life that you realised the gravity of the situation. Did it hurt? The sensation was akin to a quick shock as you saw your body begin to disappear from your stomach outward, the yellow energy dissolving your being.

Your head hurt, your body ached, the light stung your eyes as you attempted to flutter your eyes open. Your eyes fixated on a shadow that eventually gave way to a brightly clothed old man, looking like a costume for a child's birthday party. The two golden horns on his headdress bowed forward and curled back, a feature shared by three of the four beings before you. The old man extended a hand to you as your ears began to tune into the world.

"Y/N?" He asked. Your streetwise nature told you to run, that you didn’t know this man regardless if he knew your name or not. Instinct however, that told you that you could trust this man, that in the grand scheme of things that you knew him, that he'd protect you. 

You took his glove clad hand in yours, him pulling you to your feet. "We need to keep moving," he said, his gaze betraying a sadness as he locked his sight with yours.

The four began walking off, counting the pet alligator, and you followed them. In this strange world you doubted that you'd make it on your own anyway, "are you running from someone?" You asked the group. The older one turned his head to regard your query.

"Alioth hungers for the pruned variants that are dumped here by the TVA," he replied. There it was again, this time you could see regret spark his eyes. You'd have to ask later.

After a trek through the wasteland filled with junk from many different ages, you were presented with an open hatch in the ground, "after you," the kid said. You nodded and climbed down the ladder, taking in the large bunker you had entered. A few chairs dotted to one side facing a makeshift throne, many trinkets adorned the living area, souvenirs from the surface. As soon as the click of the hatch reached your ears your heart sank, that rational part of your brain considered that you could've been trapped here. Again, part of you calmed upon seeing the older man. 

The kid sat on the throne and seemed to be the leader of this strange place. The dark skinned man sat down first, the others following his lead, and so you sat on a free chair next to the old man. You felt safe. You focused on the chatter of the men

"So, after I vanquished Captain America and Iron Man, I claimed my prize, all six Infinity Stones," the dark skinned man said. The alligator growled from it's paddling pool.

"That's alligator for growling and saying "liar" at the same time," the old man translated.

"At least my nexus event wasn't eating the wrong neighbor's cat." And as soon as he'd offended the animal, the old man pried the alligator off the dark skinned man. They laughed and you cleared your throat.

"What are your names?" You asked, omitting introducing yourself as it had been established that they somehow knew your name. You saw the pain rise to the surface again in the old man's eyes, but it was quickly suppressed.

"I'm Loki, so are the others. We're variants of the same being, from different timelines," he explained. You nodded and took in the information. They drank wine and you even sipped a bit of the hearty red wine offered to you. Soon Alligator Loki closed his eyes and curled up in the pool, Boastful and Kid leaving to different sections of the bunker. The style of the old man's clothes looked very retro, and so the nickname in your mind materialised as Classic Loki. He was watching the last of his wine swirl in the goblet.

"What was your nexus event?" You asked. He looked up from his wine slowly and locked his eyes with yours. 

"In my timeline, everything proceeded correctly, my entire life, until Thanos attacked our ship.

"I cast a projection of myself so real, even the Mad Titan believed it. Then hid as inanimate debris. After I faked my death, I simply drifted in space. Away from Thor, away from everything. Thought about the universe and my place in it, and it occurred to me that everywhere I went, only pain followed. So I removed myself from the equation, landed on a remote planet and stayed there in isolation, in solitude for a long, long time.

"To tell you the truth, I missed my brother, and I wondered if he missed me, if anybody else did. But as soon as I took my first steps to getting off the planet, the TVA arrived."

"I'm sorry," you said, it seemed the most appropriate response.

"Don't be," he replied, his watchful gaze lingering on yours.

"Ever since I woke up, I felt scared, but something deep inside told me I was safe. Have we met before? I have a strange feeling that I know you from somewhere," the words came tumbling from your lips faster than you could stop the bumbling speech. You saw a smile grow on his face, and for the first time you saw that sadness turn into a glint of hope. 

"Y/N my dear, in my timeline I met you on Midgard, the realm you call Earth. My brother convinced me to wear some Midgardian clothes to fit in for a little sightseeing under his guard, the incident in New York made freedom that tiny bit beyond my reach. You were a beautiful maiden I met in the coffee shop Thor took us to. I found out you worked for Stark, and I spent the next few months courting you, as awkward as that was in a cell. Each time you checked on the prisoner I conjured you a gift, sometimes lavish jewellery that you joked that you'd not be able to hide from the others." He laughed as he recalled the memory. "When I was finally granted free roam of certain floors in the Tower I'd always make sure to conjure a vase of flowers on your desk every morning and find ways to see you. A year later we not so subtly decided to take the next step together. The exquisite diamond ring I placed on your finger whilst kneeling for my queen." 

You smiled at him, he spoke of you with a great fondness that it brought a tear to your eye. The man's joy was dampened once again.

"We never had the chance to become husband and wife, I brought you to Asgard, well, SHIELD sent you as a liaison officer. Ragnarok came. The ship. It was supposed to take you with the other refugees, Thanos had you killed first to demonstrate his threat to kill anyone who stood in his way to get the Tesseract. You know the rest of the story."

When you watched his reaction, he looked broken again, and you hated to see him so fragile after everything he'd told you. You stood up and looked down at the gap on the cushioned seat. He knew what you were asking, and so he shuffled to the side to allow you enough space to sit next to him. "Could you do me a favour?"

He looked down at you and a soft smile played on his lips. "Of course."

"Can you show me what the ring looked like?" You asked. His smile grew as his green seidr fluttered over your left hand and a flick of his fingers caused the seidr to swirl over your ring finger. When the magic subsided you saw the most intricately cut diamond you'd ever seen, the gold was woven at its base like flowers holding the stone in place. You didn't see the look of adoration that he gave you whilst you inspected the ring. When you turned you grinned at him. "I never thought that anyone would propose to me."

He moved his arm to hover over your shoulders, "may I?" He asked. You nodded and the adoration was back, he was unsure of himself even when you accepted him. His hold was firm yet gentle, showing how much he didn't want to let you go this time.

"Loki, I'd like to stay here with you. Maybe we can rebuild the life you remember we had."

"I will, dear Y/N. But before that," his green magic swirled between his barely clenched hand and formed a bunch of beautiful Y/F/F. "I must bestow my gifts upon you once more, every one, in the order that I gave them to you."

---

Tag list:

@sonhadoraativa @octopus5555 @stayfabulous @hubert-the-pterabug @russianbutchcrushing

[dragonmartellstark]

Aemon Targaryen (55 a. C.-105 a. C.) Hand of the King

Aemon Targaryen was the third son of the kings of the Seven Kingdoms being a strong, robust and noisy baby being a great joy for his parents after the birth of his first brother, Aegon who was born quite premature. As he grew up, the whole world began to see him as the heir to the iron throne due to the poor health of Prince Aegon and they believed that he would die before sitting on the throne.

The prince was always very close to his younger brother, Baelon since he was born and the brothers played with their swords or did all kinds of mischief next to his older sister, Daenerys.

After the tragic epidemic of chills Lord Rogar Baratheon decides to send his daughter Jocelyn along with her cousins ​​to the kings after the death of their paternal aunts. The young woman was well received by the kings who adored her half-siblings. A year later at a banquet for the engagement of Princes Aegon and Daenerys, the queen seated Jocelyn next to Aemon; the children chatted and laughed together throughout the evening, ignoring the others. That friendship between aunt and nephew convinced Queen Alysanne of a possible engagement between the young people. At 10 years old, Aemon participated in his first joust, but due to his mother's concern he was only allowed to participate in a joust with young knights. Despite being one of the youngest knights, Aemon managed to end all of them being acclaimed by the public and it is known that the prince approached Jocelyn Baratheon's seat and gave her a rose with a bright golden color.

Three years later, Jaehaerys and Alysanne formalize the engagement between Aemon & Jocelyn, it is known that after this announcement the prince kissed the cheek of his fiancée and affirmed that "I will be as good a husband as I am such a good gentleman." Two years later, in 70 a. C., Prince Aemon and Lady Jocelyn were married in a ceremony so lavish that it rivaled the Golden Wedding. The couple was acclaimed by the people and it was believed that both would be the future of the kingdom if the princes of Dragonstone had no offspring.

In 72 a. C., Aemon became the rider of the fierce Caraxes and flew for the first time alongside his brothers Aegon, Daenerys, Baelon and Alyssa who already had their own dragons.

In 74 a. C., Lady Jocelyn gave birth to her daughter, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. The girl was big and fierce, with the black hair of her mother Baratheon and the light purple eyes of her father Targaryen hers. The birth of her daughter was a great joy for the prince, considering her the most beautiful baby that her eyes have seen. A year later, her second and last child was born, Jaehaerys, who would be the Chief Justice of King Aegon II. This birth almost cost his wife his life and Maester Elysar affirmed that Lady Jocelyn was no longer able to have more children, this was accepted by Aemon who would rather not have more children than to lose her great love and leave her children. motherless. His father appointed him counselor of the Edicts three years later and it is known that he used his function for ten years, in addition to being a man of clear and firm ideas.

One of the most turbulent events in Aemon's life was when in 80 AD. C., Otto Hightower secretly insulted Lady Jocelyn stating that he was "a man with boobs" and this reached the ears of the prince who confronted Lord Hightower for those words. After this, Jaehaerys I learned of this situation and exiled Otto from the court, losing his royal favor.

Aemon's life continued quiet as usual and it is known that he enjoyed spending time with his children, especially with his daughter Rhaenys with whom he shared his love of flying with his dragons Caraxes and Wife. In 90 a. C., Lord Corlys Velaryon known as "The sea serpent" asked Rhaenys' hand and this managed to convince her parents to accept the commitment. That same year the wedding was celebrated.

Years later, Myriense pirates captured the eastern coast of Tarth. Prince Aemon would command the attack and jointly attack Lord Corlys Velaryon, his recent son-in-law. Prince Aemon arrived before the Velaryon fleet in Tarth and met Lord Cameron Tarth, who had retreated to the ridge that ran through the center of the island and had set up camp in a hidden valley from which he could spy on the maneuvers of the Myrienses. Prince Aemon met him there, and the two drew up plans for the attack; unfortunately, the camp was spotted by one of the Myrien scouts.

Aemon was about to die by the crossbows, being saved by his younger brother Baelon who used armor to stop the arrows. The Targaryen brothers wielded their swords against the pirates unleashing a field of blood and fire alongside their dragons Vhagar and Caraxes. The princes returned to Westeros as victorious, being well received by their families and by the kingdom.

In 93 a. C., her first granddaughter is born, Laena Velaryon, daughter of her beloved Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon. It is known that Aemon cried when he carried the little girl in her arms and felt proud to be a grandfather. A year later his second grandson would be born, Laenor, known as “little horse” and he would succeed his father Corlys as Lord of Driftmark. The life of the Targaryen family was affected by the death of Queen Alysanne due to health problems and Aemon was the main support of his older brothers, Aegon and Daenerys who became regents when their father was hurt by the death of his wife .

In 103 a. C., the father of him the Conciliator dies and his brother Aegon was crowned as Aegon II, this named Aemon as Hand of the King, being one of the most important positions of the court. However, his role as his hand did not last long when a year later his beloved wife Jocelyn Baratheon died from the bite of a snake that poisoned her. Jocelyn's death was bitter for the prince and just two years after being appointed hand of the king he left that position and locked himself in his rooms to mourn his wife.

Aemon Targaryen died two months after the death of his wife at age 50 from intense fevers while in the company of his children Rhaenys and Jaehaerys. A year later, his son who was married to Amanda Arryn had their first son, whom he named Aemon in honor of his deceased grandfather.

Aemon Targaryen (55 d. C.-105 d. C.) Mano del Rey

Aemon Targaryen fue el tercer hijo de los reyes de los Siete Reinos siendo un bebé fuerte, robusto y ruidoso siendo una gran alegría para sus padres después del nacimiento de su primer hermano, Aegon que nació bastante prematuro. Mientras crecía todo mundo empezó a verle como el heredero al trono de hierro debido a la delicada salud del príncipe Aegon y creían que moriría antes de sentarse en el trono.

El príncipe fue siempre muy cercano a su hermano menor, Baelon desde que este nació y los hermanos jugaban con sus espadas o hacían todo tipo de travesuras al lado de su hermana mayor, Daenerys.

Tras la trágica epidemia de escalofríos Lord Rogar Baratheon decide enviar a su hija Jocelyn junto a sus primas con los reyes después de la muerte de sus tías paternas. La joven fue bien recibida por los reyes quienes adoraban a sus medios hermanos. Un año después en un banquete por el compromiso de los príncipes Aegon y Daenerys, la reina sentó a Jocelyn junto a Aemon; los niños charlaron y rieron juntos durante toda la velada, haciendo caso omiso de los demás. Aquella amistad entre tía y sobrino convencieron a la reina Alysanne de un posible compromiso entre los jóvenes.

A sus 10 años de edad, Aemon participo en su primera justa, pero debido a la preocupación de su madre solo se le permitió participar en una justa con jóvenes caballeros. Pesé a ser de los caballeros mas jóvenes, Aemon logro acabar con todos ellos siendo aclamado por el publico y se sabe que el príncipe se acerco al asiento de Jocelyn Baratheon y le regalo una rosa con un color dorado brillante.

Tres años después Jaehaerys y Alysanne oficializan el compromiso entre Aemon & Jocelyn, se sabe que después de este anuncio el príncipe beso la mejilla de su prometida y afirmo que “seré tan buen esposo como soy tan buen caballero”. Dos años después, en 70 d.C., el príncipe Aemon y Lady Jocelyn contrajeron matrimonio en una ceremonia tan esplendorosa que rivalizó con la Boda Dorada. La pareja fue aclamada por el pueblo y se creía que ambos serían el futuro del reino si los príncipes de Rocadragón no tuvieran descendencia.

En 72 d. C., Aemon se convirtió en el jinete del feroz Caraxes y voló por primera vez al lado de sus hermanos Aegon, Daenerys, Baelon y Alyssa que ya tenían sus propios dragones.

En 74 d.C., Lady Jocelyn dio a luz a su hija, la princesa Rhaenys Targaryen. La niña era grande y fiera, con el cabello negro de su madre Baratheon y los ojos violeta claro de su padre Targaryen. El nacimiento de su hija fue una gran alegría para el príncipe considerándola la bebé mas hermosa que hayan visto sus ojos. Un año después nace su segundo y ultimo hijo, Jaehaerys que sería la Justicia Mayor del rey Aegon II. Este parto casi le costo la vida a su esposa y el maestre Elysar afirmo que Lady Jocelyn ya no estaba capacitada para tener mas hijos, esto fue aceptado por Aemon que preferiría no tener mas hijos a que perder a su gran amor y dejar a sus hijos sin madre.

Su padre lo nombro consejero de los Edictos tres años después y se sabe que empleo su función por diez años, además de ser un hombre de ideas claras y firmes.

Uno de los eventos mas turbulentos en la vida de Aemon fue cuando en el 80 d. C., Otto Hightower insulto en secreto a Lady Jocelyn afirmando que era “un hombre con tetas” y esto llego a oídos del príncipe que enfrento a Lord Hightower por aquellas palabras. Tras esto, Jaehaerys I se entero de esta situación y exilió a Otto de la corte perdiendo este el favor real.

La vida de Aemon siguió tranquila como de costumbre y se sabe que disfrutaba pasar el rato con sus hijos, sobre todo con su hija Rhaenys con la cual compartía su gusto por volar con sus dragones Caraxes y Wife. En el 90 d. C., Lord Corlys Velaryon conocido como “La serpiente marina” pidió la mano de Rhaenys y esta logro convencer a sus padres de aceptar el compromiso. Ese mismo año se celebro la boda.

Años después, unos piratas myrienses capturaron la costa oriental de Tarth. El príncipe Aemon comandaría el ataque y atacaría en conjunto a Lord Corlys Velaryon, su reciente yerno. El príncipe Aemon llegó antes que la flota Velaryon a Tarth y se reunió con Lord Cameron Tarth, que se había replegado a la cordillera que recorría el centro de la isla y había armado campamento en un valle oculto desde el que se podía espiar las maniobras de los myrienses. El príncipe Aemon se reunió allí con él, y ambos trazaron planes para el ataque; desgraciadamente, el campamento fue divisado por uno de los exploradores myrienses.

Aemon estuvo apunto de morir por las ballestas, siendo salvado por su hermano menor Baelon que utilizo una armadura para frenar las flechas. Los hermanos targaryen empuñaron sus espadas en contra de los piratas desatando un campo de sangre y fuego junto a sus dragones Vhagar y Caraxes. Los príncipes volvieron a Poniente como victoriosos siendo bien recibidos por sus familias y por el reino.

En el 93 d. C., nace su primera nieta, Laena Velaryon, hija de su querida Rhaenys y Corlys Velaryon. Se sabe que Aemon lloro al cargar a la pequeña en sus brazos y se sintió orgulloso de ser abuelo. Un año mas tarde nacería su segundo nieto, Laenor conocido “caballito” y este sucedería a su padre Corlys como Señor de Marcaderiva.

La vida de la familia Targaryen se vio afectada por la muerte de la reina Alysanne por problemas de salud y Aemon fue el principal apoyo de sus hermanos mayores, Aegon y Daenerys que se convirtieron en regentes al estar su padre dolido por la muerte de su esposa.

En 103 d. C., fallece su padre el Conciliador y su hermano Aegon fue coronado como Aegon II, este nombro a Aemon como Mano del Rey, siendo una de las posiciones mas importantes de la corte. Sin embargo su papel como mano no duro mucho cuando un año después falleció su amada esposa Jocelyn Baratheon por la mordedura de una serpiente que la enveneno. La muerte de Jocelyn fue amarga para el príncipe y apenas dos años de ser nombrado mano del rey dejo aquel cargo y se encerró en sus aposentos a llorar a su esposa.

Aemon Targaryen falleció dos meses después de la muerte de su esposa a los 50 años de edad por intensas fiebres mientras estaba en compañía de sus hijos Rhaenys y Jaehaerys. Un año después su hijo que estaba casado con Amanda Arryn tuvo su primer hijo varón al cual llamo Aemon en honor a su abuelo fallecido.

[aclosetfan]

I’m still mad about Bunny from an earlier post so here’s some headcanons for an au affectionately titled “what could have happen if CN didn’t nuke the one ppg with an intellectual disability”

Long post! Look under the cut!

Bunny has Down Syndrome!

The Professor is a little...tifted when he finds out his children made another child, but Professor is a man full of love, so he takes it in stride. He’s never mad at Bunny, but the triplets have a very long and thorough talking to.

Bunny is an adjustment, but so were the triplets. Professor adjusts well to the change. He doesn’t like his lil honey bun (cause ofc he has embarrassing nicknames for her too) to go out and fight. He doesn’t want her getting too overstimulated and would rather leave the bigger villains to the girls. He can’t stop Bunny from running to help when her sisters call though!

Bunny is no damsel in distress!

But for the most part, Bunny does her part for the team by helping the professor in the lab! She’s a little uncoordinated when she gets excited, but so is the Professor, so it’s a match made in heaven. She has her own lab gear and happily hands over tools and chemicals (w/supervision!) at the Professor’s request. She also very good at reminding the professor when it’s time for a break. Bunny doesn’t let him miss snack or bedtime.

She also makes sure his experiment have a touch of cutesy because Bunny loves her a bit of sparkle and frills!

Having a sister with an obvious disability is difficult for the girls in their own ways. But Bunny really teaches the girls a lot!

For Blossom, she has a hard time puzzling how Bunny was going to live a fulfilling life in an unforgiving world. Since Blossom strives for control over things she doesn’t understand, it takes her a little bit (and a few lectures from the professor) to realize that Bunny will find her own place and that she doesn’t have to be so anxious. Bunny will be fine. She’ll be okay. She’s not so fragile. (But Blossom still has bouts of extreme worry that her little sister won’t ever be accepted) Like I said though, Blossom strives for control and tries to help the Professor keep Bun well structured and safely entertained, but Bunny’s has an independent mind of her own and teaches Blossom that while structure is good, everyone deserves a little fun!

For Buttercup it’s a giant lesson in calm and patience, which if you follow the show, is generally the lesson Buttercup needs to learn. But Bunny isn’t Bubbles or another kid on the playground, she’s special in a different way and even though she has super powers too and can get a little rough—because Bunny often forgets her own strength—Buttercup has to often be remind that she needs to be gentle. It takes a little bit for Buttercup to realize that Bunny doesn’t get things right away and what Buttercup thinks is funny can be hurtful to her. But Buttercup does learn and she’s extremely protective of her baby sister. She finds games and sports that they both enjoy, and every once in while Buttercup will buckle down and play the princess that Bunny has to save. Fr Bunny and Buttercup never give up on each other.

Bubbles is immediately the best with Bunny. It’s not so much her disability that Bubbles has an issue with, it’s more like the family displacement. Bunny gets a lot of the extra attention Bubbles has been use to. Bunny and her like a lot of the same things—dolls, coloring books, things that glitter and sparkle, bright colors, stuffed animals etc. They’re both very much into everything girly. And that means Bubbles really has to learn to share. Her stuff, her sisters, her professor—everything. Sometimes she gets a little jealous, but after an incident with Octi (where the beloved stuffed animal was ripped in two and crudely taped back together by her little sister in apology), Bubbles eventually realizes that Bunny looks up to her as a strong, tough older sister and that’s A-Ok w/ Bubs. And I know it’s cliche but I think Bubs would give Bunny Octi—not forever mind you—they share.

School’s interesting! Bunny goes to preschool with them and gets her own special teacher. But kids can be cruel and the bullies of the preschool (which is, yeah, Mitch and his group) do what they do. The sisters learn early on how to deal with insensitivity and it’s not easy (especially for BC/Blossom), but with the help of Ms. Keane, the Professor, and Bunny herself, the preschool learns that Bunny’s just a little girl who likes to play too!

I mentioned this one in a previous post, but I think Mr. Green should be her parateacher instead of the girls substitute. That way his character can stay in the show and they can have the “don’t judge a book by its cover” episode. But now it can wrap back into the episode of Bunny’s first day of school to really hit the point home! Mr Green can explain that Bunny was “different” but the girls loved her anyway, so “hey give me a chance to, I promise I won’t let you down!” (The intensity of the episode would be heightened because the girls would be extra protective of Bun) (Bunny absolutely adores Mr. Green and Ms. Keane appreciates the help!)

Bunny teaches them how to stim!! Whether it’s flappin around or playing with slime the sisters like doing it together (and tbh they’re fun stress relievers that the triplets carry into adult life)!

Also, now that I think about, I don’t feel like Bunny would get over stimulated often, but it takes her a bit to calm down when she does. Bubbles is the best at calming her down when she gets too excited, but when she’s angry, it’d be BC. I think that’s because Buttercup’s marked as an aggressive kid and, like I mentioned earlier, her and Bunny’s relationship would be filled with “learning to be calm” lessons.

Bunny has sensory issues! Nbd we all do, but Bunny doesn’t like her ears being touched so sometimes it’s hard to brush her hair. She loves Blossom’s hair though and Blossom can usually convince her that if she wants long pretty hair she needs to wash and brush her own. Blossom and the Professor are the only ones allowed to touch her hair!

Sensory wise, Bunny only likes soft cotton clothing. Everything else is too ichy. She also only wears dresses because they’re both pretty and light. good thing t-shirt dresses exist!

Purple! Bunnies! Purple! Bunnies! She has a niche and my baby fills it!

Hard ‘T’s are hard for Bunny. They round into ‘D’s instead. So Buttercup becomes Buddercup except Buddercup can sometimes be too much too, so Bunny more often then not calls her sister Buddy and that’s how Buttercup eventually earns the nickname Bud.

If you h/c the girls with fingers, the Utonium’s learn sign language, which helps when Bunny become too over stimulated or has bouts of being non verbal! Buttercup has the hardest time, Blossom catches on the quickest, Bubbles and Bunny keep making up their own signs, and Professor’s just trying to teach them all!

Can’t stay in preschool forever! Kids grow up! Sucks though :/ because the girls don’t stay in the same class. But don’t worry the triplets make sure they always eat lunch with their sister! And two weeks into middle school they realize that their baby sister doesn’t need them much anyways. She’s the queen of the SPED room. She’s so helpful, kind, and popular that she’s socially doing better then her sisters 😂😂

Bunny really gets into gymnastics! She wants to be in the special olympics, but she has super powers and the Professor has to explain that having super powers is a bit like cheating. She throws a tantrum and Bubbles, with all her crafty genius, saves the day by making fake medals and trophies. The Utoniums though are still very involved in the special olympics and other like activities . It makes them all happy and Bunny gets to hand out the medals! (Helps that she’s a superhero 😏😉 always getting that special treatment)

Guys, my gal? She’s a huge flirt! If you’re like ew no, that’s morally wrong, you need to re-evaluate what YOU know about Down Syndrome! Yes developmentally she’s a little slower, but Bunny’s still a teenager—a growing young women—and very much human, so romantic idealtions are very normal. And that applies to all our friends irl too. It just depends on a persons mental capacity! Admittedly, the Professor was a little uncomfortable at first too because there’s consent and power imbalances to think about, but the people of similar age that Bunny interacts with on the daily are people just like her—like minded individuals with puppy crushes. You can’t deny a person their humanity, so when one of the boys in her SPED class gets the courage to ask her on a date the Professor buckles down and calls the boy’s mom.

Their date is a at a park, properly chaperoned by their parents. They swing and have a good time. They end it with a hug! It’s very exciting and Bunny doesn’t stop bragging about it. Two days later she’s broken up with her new BF for the next brave soul. (Truly everything stays completely innocent don’t worry. I can understand anyone’s concern—Bunny isn’t a sexual being she’s just a romantic. Also there’s ALWAYS a chaperone)

Her family still worries though. Blossom because she always worries about Bunny and the things Bunny could be missing out on. The Professor for much the same reason + she’s his little girl. Bubbles because her LITTLE sister keeps getting more dates then her. And Buttercup doesn’t worry much, but she is annoyed because if the Professor isn’t available, she’s the one who ALWAYS has to chaperone.

Why buttercup? Don’t let her fool you. She actually volunteers. She’d chaperone any of her sisters’ dates if Blossom and Bubbles would let her. Ain’t no gross boy touching her sisters.

Tbh bunny flirts with boys most of the time to embarrass and get a rise out of her sisters. She’s a lil shit sometimes. (It’s the spice in her)

Bunny also makes sure to keep her sisters IN CHECK. If she thinks they’re being too judgmental or mean to the “bad guys,” she makes sure they remember how they were mean to HER.

Most of the main villains though don’t know her. Mojo tried something once and ended up being carted back to Townsville Correctional Facility in a gurney. Bunny has an aversion to violence after the “you’re being bad” incident, so she isn’t one to fight/protect herself (protecting her sisters is another story tho lol she’d kill for them), but her sisters are fiercely protective. Incredibly protective. So protective that when the other main villains saw Mojo carted into jail they went 😬😬😬 and stayed away.

She meets Princess though! She likes Princess for all her glittery dress-up shit. Idk how yet, but I think she’d be a good catalyst for Princess’s redemption arc (along with Robin, who yes is also Bunny’s best friend). She thinks Princess’s hair is pretty and really let’s be honest Princess goes soft because she likes the positive attention. In Princess’s defense, she was never insensitive to Bunny’s disability. She’s a ppg and a ppg is what Princess wants to be. Sure, she’s petty, but goodness gracious, Blossom, she’s well versed in etiquette and that’s just uncouth.

And she meets the boys because she’s a flirt remember? Boomer’s name is her favorite but she never gets the “-er” part out. Just likes the way BOOM sounds. Her sisters have to remind her to use her inside voice, but Boomer’s a good sport about his ear drums being blown out and usually yells right on back. She thinks they’re cute! Like Princess, Bunny makes the boys feel liked and needed and helps them along their redemption arc! But they’re hesitant to be around her because they saw MoJo and....😬😬😬 (hell would freeze over before the girls let them near her anyway) (their fear is also why they aren’t completely insensitive shits towards Bunny—Mitch is a human so he got away from a beating, but someone like Butch?? Nah, BC’s always actively looking for a reason to decimate him)

Bun’s fave villain though is Fuzzy. He’s like a giant fuzzy pink teddy bear!

Bunny’s essentially made out of the exact same stuff as Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice. So what if she’s a smidge bit different. Everyone loves her just the same!

[snusbandxknifewife]

Can you do fanfic or headcanon explaining The resentment between Madoc and Cardan? I feel like it has something to do with Jude and no matter how much I think about it there seems to be resentment from both sides

Enjoy some light family dinner angst I hope this is intense enough!

~~~

It was no secret that Cardan and Madoc disliked one another. Anybody with eyes could see how they glared at each other over their wine glasses whenever they had to dine together. But Cardan loved his wife, and his wife clearly had some strange familial feelings that she was confused by, and so that meant that he never complained when Jude dragged him to dinner. After all, it wouldn’t happen for long, and Madoc would be out of his life unless Jude lifted the exile.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that his forehead always hurt from how strongly he frowned at dinner.

It was quickly approaching Yule and the Elfhame monarchs had agreed to take a day’s break from planning revels and attending meetings to head to the mortal world for an early holiday meal. Cardan had never celebrated Christmas, and Jude hadn’t celebrated it in years, but Oak was insistent on trying out the new holiday and Taryn was so far along in her pregnancy that they all knew she wouldn’t be getting out much in a few weeks.

That’s why, against everything Cardan wanted, he found himself glaring down his father-in-law.

They had to put in some work to properly stare at each other. With Madoc at the head of the table and Oriana opposite him, Cardan was at a disadvantage. He was sitting next to his wife, across from the Ghost, and so he had to turn his head to flash Madoc sour looks. Jude had picked up on the tension—she always did—and was gripping his thigh so tightly that he knew he’d have bruises in the morning.

Madoc took a break from glaring to ask some question about the kingdom, one that Jude answered with all the grace of a seasoned monarch. Cardan was so distracted by using the moment to take a sip of his wine that it wasn’t until the room descended into silence that he realized his wife had left him room to speak.

“My apologies, my mind was elsewhere,” he said, coming back to the conversation and offering his wife a sheepish grin. He only looked sheepish around her, only apologized genuinely for her. Anywhere else, with anyone else, he would’ve been content to continue ignoring them. But not his Jude, never his Jude.

“It’s alri—“

“Typical,” Madoc mumbled under his breath, loud enough to interrupt Jude.

Cardan and Jude both bristled.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Jude asked, her fiercely overprotective nature cutting through any hope of maintaining diplomacy. This wasn’t a state dinner, she could rip people to shreds if she wanted.

Cardan laid a hand on her back, his long fingers stretching effortlessly over the delicate silk of her dress as he wordlessly told her that he’d take care of this.

Across the table, Taryn was considering faking labor to have an excuse to get herself and Ghost out. Down the table, Oak was secretively raising his brand new phone up past his plate, already recording for posterity (as he’d started doing after Madoc “accidentally” dropped a wine glass on Cardan a month ago). Directly to Cardan’s right, Oriana was eyeing the wine glass in front of her, wondering if anyone would notice her turning the whole thing bottoms up.

Madoc stared Cardan down and the entire room grew even tenser. “I said it was typical,” he finally stated, blinking matter-of-factly. “As in, it’s typical for you to leave all conscious thought to Jude while you go off in your own world.”

“Madoc, dear, don’t speak to our king that way,” Oriana pointedly warned.

“I’ve no king, I’m a man in exile,” he shot back instantly. “All I have is a son-in-law who isn’t worth my daughter’s spit.”

Vivi cooly wrapped her arm around Heather’s shoulders, looking for the quickest exit.

Cardan, moving quickly, slid his hand from Jude’s back to her thigh and dug his fingers into her skin to keep her seated as he looked his father-in-law up and down.

“I don’t see why there’s so much animosity for a subject we agree on,” he calmly announced. “I’ve made it quite clear that I feel undeserving of the gift it is to be Jude’s husband.”

Madoc blanched a little, opening his mouth to say something.

Cardan cut him off. “Though what confuses me is the fact that you don’t seem to feel the same way about being her father. You act like you’re entitled to the roll, like you’ve offered her something she wouldn’t exist without.”

He reached down and grabbed his wine glass, swirling it around before taking a delicate sip to build the tension.

“Like you somehow have done anything other than put Jude in danger,” he continued, studying the way the light glinted off his painted nails before turning back to Madoc. “Like you were somehow key to her success.”

If they were in Elfhame, this would be about the time that guards would move to secure Madoc to keep him from attacking the king. But they weren’t in Elfhame, so no one stopped him from slamming his fists on the table and standing tall, looking ready for a fight.

Cardan didn’t give him the satisfaction of rising to face him. Instead, he remained comfortably seated beside his wife—who was shooting rapid glances between him and her father.

“I raised her!”

“You stole her,” Cardan shot back, voice betraying his disgust. “You took her from a loving mother and father, from the safety of the mortal world, and you threw her to the wolves. You gave her and her sister up to the gentry for slaughter and you dare to call that raising?”

And there it was, the genesis of Cardan’s hatred for Madoc. No matter how many family dinners they suffered through, how much time passed, he’d always despise his father-in-law for what he’d done to Jude when she was no more than a defenseless human child.

Jude had been born into a loving family, she’d had a mother and father who adored not only each other, but also their children. She’d deserved that for the rest of her life, she’d deserved the safety that her human birth should’ve afforded her.

But no, she’d been forced—at the tender age of seven—to watch the violent murder of both her parents, and then she’d been stolen away to Faerie and thrown to the wolves that made up the gentry. A lifetime of scorn and suffering that could’ve been avoided if Madoc hadn’t been so entitled and rash.

“I seem to remember your torment was always the worst,” Madoc looked like a vein was about to pop in his forehead as his voice lowered dangerously. “You trapped my daughter in a river of nixies, you drugged her and forced her to strip in front of her classmates—“

“The everapple incident wasn’t my doing.”

Cardan had been a terrible person—arguably still was when he needed to be—and he knew he’d been evil to Jude when they were children. But he’d never engineered a situation where Jude would be both inebriated and in danger. Even when he was still trying to convince himself that he hated her, her safety was always his number one concern.

“You exiled Jude when she needed you most. You left her alone and vulnerable after gaining her trust and act like I’m the monster?”

Cardan’s eye twitched. “To protect her from you. To protect her from us.”

And then he finally stood, setting down his wine glass and turning to face Madoc. His oil-slick eyes swirled with hatred and he was thankful they weren’t in Elfhame, solely because he knew that, if they were, he would’ve already been surrounded by poisonous plants.

“You didn’t see her after the Undersea, never saw how sick she was,” he growled. “I sent her away to give her time to heal, to give her the chance to fall in love with the mortal world again in the hopes that she would stay here where she was safe.”

He stepped back and pushed his chair in, pulling Jude’s out and helping her up.

“But my darling wife returned, because she’s headstrong and she’s never cared much for her own safety. I won’t lie to you, I’m thankful for it. I don’t think I would’ve survived without her.”

He went to the coatrack and grabbed Jude’s fur before walking back to wrap it around her shoulders.

“But then you took her from me.”

Madoc opened his mouth.

“Granted, you thought she was Taryn,” Cardan acknowledged. “I suppose you, her so-called loving father, never put in the work to tell the difference.”

Jude was staring at her husband, she saw how his hands shook in anger.

“But when you figured it out, when you finally looked at your daughter and saw Jude, that’s when you truly lost any hope of being a father.” Cardan looked back to Madoc, tears of fury wetting his eyes. “Because when you were faced with your teenaged daughter, the girl you stole and brought up and taught, you tried to kill her.”

Memories of Jude crashing from the rafters flirted through his mind and he bit his cheek against the wave of nausea it always brought up.

“You gutted your child and left her to die,” he whispered. “You ran her through and you dare to say I’m the one undeserving of her?”

Jude didn’t know what to say as she looked at her husband, as she felt his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. She’d never seen him so raw with emotion, never heard him discuss his hatred of Madoc.

She didn’t fight as her husband pushed her towards the door. So lost in her own thoughts was she that she didn’t notice Cardan stop to whisper in Madoc’s ear.

“I look forward to the day Jude stops coming to the mortal world,” he admitted, “because then I know I’ll no longer have to worry about you putting her in danger.”

“And what about you?” Madoc asked, a tinge if desperation in his voice. “How will I know that you’re no longer endangering her? You, who have always been undeserving of her?”

“Your peace of mind isn’t my problem. Her’s is.”

~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @cheekycheekycheeks @queen-of-glass @b00kworm @doingmyrainbow @andromeddea @jurdanhell @thesirenwashere @sweetlyvillainous @courtofjurdan @clockworkgraystairs @st00pid231

[rosereview]

Top 9 Favourite MaasVerse Couples

I did a favourites list of couples in the Shadowhunter universe last year that was really fun so I thought I would do one with all of the couples from Sarah J. Maas’ universe, especially after reading A Court of Silver Flames (review coming soon). Because of all that and given that Sarah J. Maas never fails to be sneaky with which guy the main character ends up with in the end, this favourites list will be full of spoilers. So like before, the top couples all are couples that for sure end up together, while the honorable mentions are couples that I like or ones that I think would be good together or who I want to be together. 

Honorable Mentions

To start off we have character couples that I love but don’t know enough about to be super invested.

Amren & Varian- from ACOTAR. I just think that they are so cute and I love Amren and I’m so happy that she has someone who is there for her. I also think Varian is an interesting character who is the perfect balance for Amren’s intensity, also at all the family gatherings with Varian there, he just feels like the typical come-home-for-christmas-with-a-guy boyfriend who the family gets to know, but also plays around with because he’s new (don’t know if that makes sense, but if you’ve ever had a sibling or cousin bring a partner home for the holidays to a joking-around type family then you’ll get it).

Kallias & Viviane- from ACOTAR. Also don’t know a lot about them, but for the few interactions we see of them, I think they are super cute! The other courts always intrigued me, but especially the Winter Court because I love snow and I also love how close Kallias, Viviane, Rhysand, and Morrigan are (especially Viviane and Mor). I just think it’s so nice that they have other friends in other courts, and again they just seem sweet. 

Juniper Andromeda & Fury Axtar- from Crescent City. We only find out that they are a couple near the end, but from the few times we see them together, I think Juniper and Fury are adorable. Fury is just that super badass bitch that I love to see vulnerable in a couple. I just like seeing that badass girls can still have a very raw and human side, especially when they are with their significant other. Also Juniper was always a favourite minor character throughout the book because she’s such a good friend to Bryce. I can’t wait to see more of them as a couple in the next books!

Next I have people who I want to end up together:

Ruhn Danaan & Hypaxia Enador- from Crescent City. I thought Ruhn and the mediwitch had a great amount of chemistry, and when it was revealed that she was actually the young Queen Hypoxia of the witches, I was so excited! I feel like her and Ruhn will end up together, and because I love Ruhn and just want to see him happy, I think that the two of them as a couple would be great!

Morrigan & Emerie- from ACOTAR (more specifically ACOSF). When Emerie saw Mor in the latest book, I giggled so hard! I think the two of them would be adorable and it’s high time that Mor got a new love interest who will make her happy. (I also really want Emerie to be happy now that I’ve gotten to know her more as a character, and I do think the two of them would work really well together!)

Elain & Lucien // Azriel & Gwyneth- from ACOTAR. This next one I won’t talk a lot about because I’m saving it for the review for ACOSF, but just so you know what side of the debate I’m on, I really do think Lucien and Elain would be good together if Elain gave him a chance, and now since reading the special edition short story about Azriel at the end of ACOSF, I ship Azriel and Gwyn together. (Although I’ll honestly be happy with whoever ends up together as long as all the characters are happy!)

Nyx & Unborn Child of Rowaelin- from ACOTAR and Throne of Glass. I saw this post one day of someone shipping Nyx (Rhys and Feyre’s son), and the unborn daughter of Rowan and Aelin, I fangirled so hard! No matter if Rowan and Aelin have a girl or boy first, I already ship them so hard with Nyx. We already know that Nyx would have been born during the time of the war at the end of Kingdom of Ash (because Aelin fell through the worlds and saw pregnant Feyre and Rhys standing during Winter Solstice) so if Aelin and Rowan had a child not long after, they would be close to the same age, and because of that moving between worlds moment, we know that’s it’s possible for the two kids to meet one day. (Also I have a theory that what happens in the Crescent City books will tie into the possibility of world jumping because it’s already talked about in there how most species in Crescent City came from different worlds, so yay!) I know that this is all just wishful thinking, but I think that would be the cutest thing Nyx being together with Rowaelin’s child! Let me believe what I want to.

9. Nesryn Faliq & Sartaq

This list was so hard to make and I’m sad that these two are so low on it, but I just couldn’t get them any higher! At any rate, I loved these two during Tower of Dawn and when they ended up together I was ecstatic! First of all, I think Sartaq would be an amazing Khagan of the Southern Continent and he’s honestly the only real good one of his siblings. Him and Nesryn leading the Southern Continent will be amazing and I love the way that they bonded over riding the ruks. I do wish that we got to see them even more, but considering all of the characters and storylines, I was still satisfied with the development of their relationship and themselves as characters (just want more content with anything from the Throne of Glass series because I know it’s over and that makes me sad!)

8. Dorian Havilliard & Manon Blackbeak

Next is another couple that I love so much but had to put lower on the list because there are just too many great couples in the Sarah J. Maas universe! I never thought that Dorian and Aelin (or Celaena at the time) would be good together, but was absolutely heartbroken when Sorsha died. BUT that death did lead to so much sexual tensions between Dorian and Manon that it was all worth it! I love these two because, again, it is so nice to see a badass female character also have a loving side, but also seems pretty “dominant” (for a lack of better word) in the relationship. I think Manon and Dorian are so great together, and their banter and cute nicknames (Princeling and Witchling) just gave me life! Even though the end of Kingdom of Ash left me completely shattered, I was very happy that Dorian and Manon still had each other, and I think the two of them will be great monarchs in their separate kingdoms, but also together.

7. Elide Lochan & Lorcan Salvaterre

Another amazing couple from the Throne of Glass series! Even though Lorcan was kind of an asshole when you first met him, when he and Elide had their whole adventure together, I fell in love with the two (especially Lorcan). I love a good “bad” boy “good” girl trope, and Lorcan and Elide were definitely that perfect fit. The way that Lorcan cared so much for Elide while they had to travel together was really cute, and I was so happy to see how Lorcan softened up and Elide became strong as well. It was nice that they still weren’t the typical weak girl, always rescued by the strong Fae. Lorcan and Elide made each other show the world their other sides as well. 

6. Nesta Archeron & Cassian

This couple I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about but most of that will be in my ACOFS review coming soon, but for now I will just say that I LOVE them! We always knew that Nesta and Cassian were probably going to end up together, but still their journey as individuals and a couple was so fantastic to read. The way that the two of them helped each other out in terms of mental health while still being the individually strong characters was so good to see. Their sexual tension was great to read, and I loved the way that their whole story arc developed through the book.

5. Chaol Westfall & Yrene Towers

Again, I loved these two so much probably because they had their own book practically dedicated to them. I loved Chaol in the first two books from the Throne of Glass series, but like most people, I lost that love as the series went on. Going into Tower of Dawn I was really worried that I wasn’t going to like it because of Chaol being the central character, but like always, Sarah J. Maas writes such good redemption and flawed character arcs that it was impossible not to love Chaol again, and the woman who brought the light back to him. Similarly, I really liked Yrene when we first met her in The Assassin’s Blade stories (The Assassin and the Healer), and I was so happy that we got to learn more about her in the whole Tower of Dawn book. The way that Chaol and Yrene went from hating each other to falling in love was done absolutely perfectly, and by Kingdom of Ash when we found out that Yrene was pregnant, I almost threw my book in happiness, I was so excited. This couple is well deserving of the number five spot!

4. Aedion Ashryver & Lysandra

Now we have another favourite couple from the Throne of Glass series (that series is just so big and full of characters, most of the people on this list are from there). I really loved the idea of Aedion and Lysandra from the beginning when we start to see Lysandra play a bigger role in the series. Again, it’s the banter between these two characters that gets me every time, and the way they make fun of each other while also flirting is just so great to read. I was a little worried about what was going to happen to their relationship in Kingdom of Ash, especially since everything was going so well in Empire of Storms and then ended so badly at the end, but knowing that they got married almost immediately after the war was exactly what I needed. Also I LOVED Aedion with Evangeline and all their interactions, which was also why I knew that Aedion had to end up with Lysandra. Every time a kid comes into the picture I feel like I ship that couple just a bit harder. The three of them make the most perfect family. 

3. Bryce Quinlan & Hunt Athalar

I know that technically we don’t know for sure if these two will be endgame, but if they aren’t I will sob and never forgive SJM! I love these two with all my heart and the only reason that they are in number three (and not higher!) is because we only have one book with them. I would not be surprised if they went up higher on my list after the next books come out. First of all, their sexual tension is fabulous. Second, I just adored how they both helped each other health through the book  and how they went through so much together emotionally. I feel like that made the strongest foundation for a relationship, and if that foundation breaks, I think I might just dig myself a hole and stay there. While both are strong characters separately, they are just so much better together! Every scene of them was like magic, and they were the whole reason I could stop reading HOEAB. I need the next books so badly, just because I need to see them together more!

2. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius & Rowan Whitethorn

Finally at the top two, and this decision was probably the hardest one I’ve ever had to make. I love both Rowaelin and Feysand so much, this was impossible to decide, but it came down to the fact that out of every SJM book, A Court of Mist and Fury is my favourite. That book is a f*cking masterpiece and the reason for that is because of Feysand. So Rowaelin is second. Aelin and Rowan are amazing characters individually, but like the reason for all of these favourite couples, the journey that they go on together and help each other through, is what makes them so special and so strong as a couple. Rowan helped Aelin in a way that Chaol or Dorian never could, and Aelin in turn helped Rowan through centuries of pain just because they understood each other so well. The best and strongest part of all these couples is that they became friends first, before going into a romantic relationship (except for Nessian a couple others, but you know what I mean). Being able to create a strong bond before anything physical is so important with these characters, especially helping them get through so much trauma, and ultimately seeing that growth on the page connects you so much more with them as a couple. Seeing these characters go through so much together was really what made me love them to this degree (which is a high degree) which is also why I’m having a hard time believing that their stories are done. I will always need more Rowaelin content. 

1. Feyre Archeron & Rhysand

And now we’re at the top. Like I just said, this was a hard decision, but it also feels so right. Feyre and Rhysand had an amazing development as a couple through the books, and A Court of Mist and Fury is definitely my favourite SJM book precisely because we see their relationship develop. I am beyond happy that we aren’t at the end of the ACOTAR world and we get to see more Feysand in the years and books to come, because I am not ready at all to say goodbye yet. Just thinking of Feyre and Rhys’ lives now (especially with Nyx) brings a smile to my face, and I think that it's amazing how an author and a book can do that. Both Feyre and Rhysand’s characters are so strong and their journeys were so heart wrenching to follow but so worth it at the same time. There is really nothing bad I can say about this couple, besides the fact that I want to thank Sarah J. Maas for writing such great characters, and I can’t wait to see more to come!

Thanks to anyone who read to the end. I know it was a long ramble again. Stay tuned for my ACOSF review coming soon as well.

Until next time!

~Rose Reviews

[septicstories]

A/N: For some unfathomable reason, I get some fantasy BNHA vibe from the song, Ophelia by the Lumineers. not even the lyrics. Like, the instrumental. It also, for some reason, gives me such an intense feeling of nostalgia that it sort of makes me want to cry? And I don’t know why? Actually wait. Seeing that this song is from the same guys who performed “Ho Hey” that makes a bunch of sense. Okay, anyways, I’m just gonna write a Kiribaku fantasy thing. Just some fluff, nothing super major.

I, I, when I was younger

“Kacchan! Quit running off! Your mother is bound to be worried sick!”

“Shut up, Deku! I’m gonna be fucking fine! C’mon!”

“Kacchan!”

The two young boys ran through the forests. Katsuki had recently turned twelve, given his first sword. Nothing fancy, just a small cutlass. In a week, he’d get his very first tattoo. But only if he collected an animal’s blood. 

Easiest way to do that?

Kill it and bring it back to his village.

I, I, should have known better

“Uh, Kacchan? Do you see that?” the younger green haired boy asked.

Katsuki glanced in the direction, seeing that there was a pair of bright red wings popping out of the bushes.

“Is that a dragon?” the green haired boy whispered.

“No one’s ever had dragon blood for their tattoo before!” Katsuki whispered back with a feral grin.

The grin was odd and misshapen, something he didn’t do often. It hadn’t quite grown on the ash blond yet.

“Oi! Dragon! Show yourself!”

Katsuki took his cutlass, slicing through the bush. As the leaves and branches from the bush fell, the front of the dragon was revealed.

And I can't feel no remorse

A black haired boy looked up at him with big red eyes. A pair of horns protruded from his forehead, their base a bright red. A tail stuck out of the other side of the bush, also bright red.

“Sorry! No hurt, please,”

Katsuki dropped his cutlass to the ground.

A dragon shifter.

They were a rare species, only two thousand known in the world throughout time. 

“Are you hurt?” the green haired boy popped up beside Katsuki.

“Uh... wings. Stuck. Help?”

“Come with me afterward,” Katsuki said firmly.

“Huh?! Kacchan?! What are you doing?”

“Shut the fuck up, Deku,”

The boys freed the dragon shifter before Katsuki led him back to his parent’s castle.

“Oi, hag! Bring us a medic!” Katsuki yelled into the castle, kicking a door open.

“For fuck’s sake, Katsuki! Did you hurt Izuku aga--”

Queen Mitsuki entered the room, ready to whoop her son’s ass, only to find her son and the boy she called her nephew in perfect health. A third boy with dragon wings, scales, and horns, however, was not.

“Oh. Uhm... hello,” she said calmly.

The dragon boy gave a bow as Mitsuki called for a few medics.

And you don't feel nothing back

“Kacchan, it’s so weird for you to help someone like that. What about your tattoo?”

“Dumbass. Don’t you know that dragon shifters are a rare species? If I fucking killed one, I’d die, for sure. I’d be hunted down. And it felt... different. Like I couldn’t kill them, even if they weren’t a dragon shifter. I... they feel different,”

Katsuki sat outside of the infirmary where the dragon boy stayed.

Behind the door, the shifter had sat, listening. That was something he was good at. Listening. He didn’t know what most of it meant. He didn’t speak their language. Hell, he rarely spoke.

But hearing what the ash blond boy had to say made him feel weird. His tail thumped against the cot he sat on, a happy chirp leaving his mouth.

When Katsuki came back to see the dragon shifter, he was pounced on, happy chirping noises escaping his mouth. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Master! Teach fight!”

“What?! Master?”

“You save me. I stay until I save,”

Katsuki sat there, baffled. A dragon shifter wants to be his? And a cute one at that?

“So, you wanna know how to fight, huh?”

I, I, got a new girlfriend

“No fucking way, really?” Katsuki was snapped from his memories by Sero gawking at the drunken purple haired bard.

“Mhm! She’s super duper pretty,” she slurred happily. “She’s a princess!”

“Congrats!” Mina, the pink haired barkeep said with a smile.

“Oh, it’s Princess Yaoyorozu, right?” Tenya asked, sipping lightly from his glass of wine.

“Mhm! Momo is so great,” Jirou beamed.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, scoffing at Jirou’s words.

She feels like he's on top

The dragon prince-- no, king-- had changed greatly since he met the dragon shifter, Eijirou.

Katsuki’s original kingdom was attacked, his family and his people killed. It was bloody and traumatizing. He actually needed saving from Eijirou.

But he never left.

And I don't feel no remorse

“Oh! Katsuki!” Eijirou tugged on the king’s cape. “Look! Miss Frog brought her wife!”

He looked behind the bar to see Ochaco and Tsuyu, smiling sweetly at each other.

“Get a room!”

Denki and Sero laughed beside Katsuki before Ochaco flipped him off.

And you can't see past my blinders

“Ochaco, relax, kero,” Tsuyu mumbled.

“Yeah, Katsu’s just jealous that he can’t have what we have,” Ochaco said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend’s nose.

“You want to be a lesbian?” Eijirou whispered to Katsuki, who choked on his brandy.

Eijirou frantically waved his hands. “Sorry! Hurt?”

Whenever Eijirou found himself flustered or speaking quickly, his speech would go back to the broken language he used when he was a child. It got his point across, it just wasn’t the most eloquent.

Oh, Ophelia

“I’m fine, shitty lizard,” he mumbled. “No, I don’t want to be a lesbian. I don’t like women. I would just want to date someone and... be happy with them, you know?”

“Oh! Dragons do that! We bite the neck of our mate, give our mate a mark!”

“What, some sort of binding mark?”

Eijirou nodded happily, a small chirp leaving his throat.

You've been on my mind girl since the flood

“Why hasn’t Ei gotten drunk?” Mina asked.

“Dragons don’t drink. Alcohol to them is like feeding chocolate to a dog,” Katsuki scoffed. “Figure you would’ve fucking known that since he’s declined your alcohol consistently for the past several years,”

“Mhm! Alcohol killed my family,” Eijirou said with a soft smile.

“Oh,” Denki murmured.

After the sudden dark turn, it was quiet. But only for a moment.

“Hi, Kacchan!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, turning to the green haired boy, who had Prince Shouto walking behind him.

“Done fucking the prince yet? Or are you still his spite boyfriend?” Katsuki snarled.

“How dare y--” “Shou, it’s okay,”

“Ah? Having the lapdog shush the prince? Doesn’t that deserve some sort of punishment?” 

The shit eating grin on Katsuki’s face grew as Izuku’s face flushed at the word.

“Don’t be rude,” Eijirou hissed, smacking Katsuki’s shoulder. “Sorry for Katsuki. He is drunk.”

Oh, Ophelia

“Ah, it’s alright, Eijirou!” Izuku said with a grin.

“The master disobeying his dragon? Doesn’t that deserve some sort of punishment?” Shouto asked, giving a smug ass grin.

Katsuki’s grip on his glass tightened, the glass making a creaking noise.

“Shou!”

“What does he mean by that? I did not do anything wrong, did I? Did I go against a human rule again?” Eijirou whispered.

“No, Prince Shouto’s just being an asshole,” Katsuki mumbled.

“Stop being mean!” Eijirou said before pouting a little. “You’re better than that,”

Katsuki felt his heart clench at his oddly adorable dragon servant.

Actually, was servant the word to use? He didn’t feel as though Eijirou was his servant or inferior to him. Much more like a friend. 

One day, hopefully more.

Katsuki groaned, smacking his head with the heel of his palm. He needed to stop thinking like that. Eijirou would be a friend and nothing more.

Heaven help a fool who falls in love

So maybe Katsuki did end up falling in love with his dragon shifter friend. What did it matter?

He wasn’t going to act on his urges to kiss him, hold him, tell him he loved him- no! That’s preposterous! 

From time to time, he wonders what his mother would think of him if she saw him now:

Sitting in a bar as a dragon king, making fun of the prince of another kingdom, sitting beside his dragon shifter friend who he also held high affection for.

He was fucked, wasn’t he?

“Why did you hit yourself? Was there an insect? I could have gotten it for you,” Eijirou asked.

“You are not eating a fucking insect off my head again,”

“It was one time!”

“One time too many!”

I, I, got a little paycheck

“Anyway, Katsuki, we didn’t come here to hear endless innuendos,” Shouto sighed, pulling out a silken sack.

It jingled happily as it was dropped in front of Katsuki.

“We came here for the--”

“Yeah yeah, you came here for the head of that beast. I know. Ei, you got the satchel?”

“Right here!” Eijirou said, holding the heavy satchel, dripping in black blood. “The head is in a bag inside of the satchel. So grab the bag inside. Do not wear white gloves, I suggest black as that is the color of their blood,”

“Thank you, Eijirou,” Izuku said, giving a quick bow as he replaced his white gloves for black ones.

Katsuki was handed the sack and he popped it open.

“Ei, coin toss,” he growled, taking a golden coin and flicking it behind me.

Coin toss is what they’ve done to see if the money is genuine. Katsuki toss a coin behind him, Eijirou nibbles on it for a second, and then he gives it back if it’s good. If it’s bad, he eats it.

If he eats even a single coin, he has Katsuki’s permission to beat the shit out of them.

You got big plans and you gotta move

“Must you do this every time?” Shouto asked

“What, you give us a shit coin?” Katsuki asked, flipping Eijirou the next coin.

“No’ ye’,” Eijirou said, catching the coin between his teeth. “All solid,”

“Good. And yes, we fucking do, asshole,” Katsuki scoffed. “You could scam us out, and we’d have to kill ya for it,”

“Be nishe, Katshuki!” Eijirou said before slipping the coin out of his mouth.

And I don't feel nothing at all

“Hey guys, we’re gonna go head toward the inn! Heard they had a bonfire going! We also need to drop off our horses,” Sero said with his signature grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki scoffed.

After quickly checking the rest of the coins and making sure they were genuine, Katsuki closed the silken sack.

“Thanks,” he grumbled out.

“Sure thing, Kacchan! It was a pleasure to work with you!”

“Fuck off!”

And you can't feel nothing small

“Hey, Katsuki?”

“What is it?” Katsuki asked, turning to Eijirou.

“I want to show you a place,”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki had a smirk cross his face. “Where to, Shitty Lizard?”

“Come with me!”

Eijirou and Katsuki left the bar, leaving a few gold coins with small dents in them on the counter.

Eijirou stood behind the building, removing his clothing as not to rip them before Katsuki placed them in the satchel.

A few moments later, the redheaded hybrid became a full dragon, and the two tore up into the sky at vicious speeds.

But once they were over the clouds, Eijirou slowed to a glide.

“Nice job on speed. Doing better,”

A deep rumbling chirp came from Eijirou as they continued to soar above the clouds, Katsuki relaxing happily on Eijirou’s back.

Honey I love you, that's all she wrote

The duo began their descent, landing at the base of a mountain as Eijirou shifted back.

“So, what did you want to show me?” Katsuki asked, handing Eijirou his clothing.

“Top of the mountain,” Eijirou said, yanking on his clothes.

Katsuki blinked for a moment. “Then why the hell didn’t you fly us up there?”

“The path there is very pretty too,” Eijirou said, making Katsuki huff.

“Fine. Whatever. Let’s fucking go,”

Oh, Ophelia

The boys began their hike up the mountain. Nothing too rigorous, but still harder than a simple walk. Not like the two minded, though. They’ve grown used to things that take up far more energy than a hike.

“So, where exactly did you bring me?” Katsuki asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, we are climbing up a mountain. I cannot remember the name at the moment, so my apologies,” Eijirou chuckled, tugging at his scarf a tad.

“Fucking great. Any sort of civilization nearby?”

“Uhm... I believe there is a village that sits on the shore,”

You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Katsuki put a finger in his mouth, and after a moment, he pulled it out and held it to the sky.

The light breeze hit his wet finger tip, only a small part of it being cold.

“We in the East?”

After a moment, Eijirou nodded.

“Yes, yes!”

“And there’s a village by the water?”

Oh, Ophelia

“Yes, you will see it once we reach the top!” Eijirou chirped.

“So does the name Tuft Mountain ring any bells?”

“Oh, yes, yes!”

“And you wanted to show me the peak of Tuft?”

“Mhm!”

Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Katsuki knew what Eijirou was doing.

Anyone with half a damn brain cell knew what he was doing.

Oh, Ophelia

“YOU’RE FUCKING TAKING ME TO LOVER’S POND?!”

You've been on my mind girl since the flood

“Hush, hush! You’ll disturb the wildlife!” Eijirou said, thankful for the dark of the night that covered his flushed face.

The two reached the peak, and Katsuki’s eyes widened.

Oh, Ophelia

The pond was surrounded by gorgeous flowers and other wild grasses, waving in the breeze nonchalantly.

Fireflies dotted the sky, their little lights glowing up against the water’s surface.

The pond itself was an irregular heart shape, yet it was naturally formed.

Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Legend says that those who sit at one side of the pond will have their soulmate appear at the other side.

This could take minutes, hours, days, months, weeks, even years.

The pond is for those who are willing to wait for their soulmate.

Oh, Ophelia

Eijirou went and sat at one end of the pond, and waited.

Katsuki felt a tug.

You've been on my mind girl like a drug

As though he was being forced closer to the pond.

His head foggy and walk awkward, his body slowly made it’s way to the other side of the pond.

Oh, Ophelia

The two boys gawked at each other, vermilion and scarlet eyes locking, jaws dropping.

Katsuki knew what had just happened and knew what he’d done, but he hadn’t felt as though he was in control of himself.

A smile bloomed on Eijirou’s face.

He covered his mouth with his hands as tears clumped up in his lashes.

His tail thumped on the ground, wings beating, and sobbing chirps of joy escaping his mouth.

Katsuki felt his eyes water as well as he grinned.

Heaven help a fool who falls in love

A/N: Okay! Thank you so much for reading this! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it! I just get sudden impulses to write, so I do, and then you get this. Ooh! I’ve also never done this before, but I’m gonna start a tag list! I’ll do this for every story! I’ve only got one person and my beta readers, but feel free to ask to be on the tag list! You’ll get a notif for any oneshot I post! Or story! If you want to see my artwork, then please make that specification. So I’ll tag you in both or one or the other. Okay? Okay!

Tag list: @king-queenie, @violet-fandom, @siivermoon​,

Okay! That’s all! Thank you!