#they dont need to be me and try to make it work

[angelluvsrafe]

blood work comfort

- request a fic - masterlist -

——— ⋆·˚ ༘ * doctor!rafe x bambi!reader

you had never liked getting blood work done. ever. it was the worst thing anyone could do to you. it was torture.

when you met rafe, you expressed your opinion on the subject. he chuckled fondly at you and told you he’d help you overcome your phobia. you disagreed, adamant that he wouldn’t be able to help you.

but here you are, sat in the doctors office. you and rafe have been married for a year and together for 4.

“alright, sweetheart… you ready?” he asks softly, scooting his chair over to you. you shake your head, your legs swinging off the edge of the creepy table thing. “i know it’s scary, but i’d never hurt you— would i?” he looks up at you, a gloved hand resting on your thigh, making you cringe.

“no… but i still don’t want to do this.” you mumble. all you want to do right now is bury yourself in his arms and never come back out.

he gets out the band to wrap around your arm and tears immediately prick in your eyes. his concerned expression becomes deeper when he sees the scared look on your face.

“no don’t panic, bambi…” he tells you soothingly, giving your cheek a soft kiss. you sniffle and let the tears fall down.

“i dont wanna do it” rafe cringes as the sounds of your cries fill the room. he continues to tie the band around your arm, trying to ignore your panicked tone.

“i’m sorry but it has to happen. we need to get to the bottom of what’s the matter, this is the only way…” he says firmly, yet his face shows no sign of annoyance.

he sorts out the needle and what he needs, much to your dismay.

“no rafe, i can’t” you whine and shake your head.

“yes you can, doll… of course you can” he reassures you with a small smile, kissing your flushed cheek yet again. “stop crying… you’re making me feel bad…” he chuckles, and you pout.

“you should feel bad, this is torture.” you sniffle, making rafe chuckle.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart… it’s for the best though…” he gives you a few soft kisses to your temple and holds up the needle for you to see. “look at how small that is… it’s literally going to be a tiny prick. i promise. i’ll be as quick as i can, okay?” the look in his eyes makes you feel slightly more comfortable, he looks confident that it will be okay.

you lean forward and bury your face in his neck. “just do it.” you mumble, he smiles fondly as he hears the pout in your voice.

“you remember that dress you saw that you liked the other day?” rafe asks gently, his voice quiet and smooth.

“yeah…” you respond with your voice muffled.

“how about after this… we go buy it. i was thinking about it, and i think you’ll look so pretty in it.” his voice is a low rumble, you can hear it as you’re pressed against his neck. “can’t stop thinking about you in it…”

“yes please…” you respond, your voice a little happier than before. he pulls away and grabs a cotton ball, pressing it on the inner side of your elbow. “what?” you ask, confused.

“all done, honey.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“oh…” you smile, watching as he wipes away the extra blood and puts a band aid over the small poke.

“i’m proud of you, sweetheart” he gushes and pulls you into his lap. “how was it?”

“i barely felt it… i thought you were still doing something with the band…” you smile, resting your head against his cheek.

“i’m glad it didn’t hurt… i was trying to be as gentle as i could… your precious…”

[thatonegrimm]

Can I req the saja boys comforting a reader who has adhd and likes dancing while listening to music but has to mask it so as not to seem weird? I imagine its especially hard in korea because people dont accept neurodivergent people alot, and they often do it more at home where they feel more safe to just be themselves.

Ahhh thank you so much for this request!💙 As someone with ADHD, I totally get it. Masking can be exhausting, especially in spaces where neurodivergence isn’t well understood or accepted. That feeling of needing to “turn off” parts of yourself just to avoid judgment? All too real. This one meant a lot to write and honestly, it got me so inspired I’m already thinking about a continuation. 🥹💭

🌙 Saja Boys –"When They Notice You Masking"

Summary: You’ve always hidden the way you move to music — the stimming, the dancing, the joy — because you’ve learned that too much expression gets misunderstood. But the Saja Boys see it, quietly, and one by one, they let you know it’s safe to be yourself around them.

------------------------------------------

You dance when no one’s looking.

Not performance dancing — just you, vibing. Twisting to the rhythm, bouncing your shoulders, mouthing lyrics only you can hear. It’s joy, and motion, and impulse, and freedom.

But you don’t do it around people. Not often. Not outside. You’ve seen the looks. In Korea, people don’t always get it. They see “weird,” not “neurodivergent.” They see too much.

So you don’t give them more.

You smile smaller. Walk quieter. And save your dancing for home.

You don’t think the boys notice.

But they do.

----------------------------------------

🧿 Jinu

He hears it first — your music spilling faintly through the hallway.

He passes by the living room, intending to call out that dinner’s almost ready, but pauses at the doorway instead. You’re in your own world, dancing in wide, free movements, the kind that don’t ask permission. It’s loose, a little goofy, a little beautiful. You don’t even notice him watching.

He doesn’t interrupt.

Later, when you’re curled up on the couch, headphones in, he sits beside you and quietly offers one of his earbuds.

You blink at him. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just starts playing one of his playlists — something with a soft funk beat and warm synths — then gently bobs his head along.

“You don’t have to turn it down when I walk in,” he murmurs after a while. “I like seeing you like that.”

You glance down, a little shy.

He bumps your shoulder with his and smiles.

“I think you’ve got better rhythm than me anyway.”

---------------------------------

💪 Abby

You don’t hear him come home early. You’re mid-twirl, snack bag in one hand, music in your ears, absolutely vibing through the hallway—when you nearly collide with him.

Your heart drops. You freeze mid-step, mouth half open in panic.

He just grins.

“Whoa. Interpretive dance?” “No—I was just—” “It was cool.”

You try to explain, but he holds up a hand gently.

“You don’t have to shrink,” he says. “I liked it.”

You eye him, unsure.

“You do that outside too?” “Not really.” “Why not?” “People stare.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful.

“Maybe they’re just jealous,” he says. “Of what?” “Of you looking so free.”

He steps aside dramatically and gestures to the hallway.

“Encore?”

You laugh. He gives a little hip wiggle in return — so bad it makes you cover your face with both hands.

“C’mon,” he chuckles, pulling your hands down. “Teach me how to move like you.”

You do. And he tries. Awfully. With the biggest, brightest grin you’ve ever seen.

-----------------------------

📚 Mystery

You thought he didn’t notice. Mystery doesn’t say much on good days, and you assumed he just thought of you as calm — like him. You work so hard to look composed around the others. Still. Collected.

But one night, when you think everyone’s gone quiet, you curl up in the corner of the common room with your music low and your body gently pulsing to the beat. Fingers tapping. Knees bouncing. Your body slipping into rhythm without thought.

You glance up. He’s watching.

You freeze.

He doesn’t look confused. Just curious. A little thoughtful. Then his head tilts.

“Why do you stop when people see?” “Because they look at me weird.” “You weren’t being weird,” he says softly. “You were being happy.”

You sit in silence for a moment.

He settles down beside you on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. Then, without asking, he reaches out and gently taps your wrist — matching your rhythm.

Your breath hitches.

“Keep going,” he says quietly. “I’ll follow.”

And he does.

------------------------------

💋 Romance

He’s known for a while. It’s the way you always move when it’s just the two of you — swaying at the sink, bouncing while brushing your teeth, spinning once on your way into a room.

But outside? You’re still. Controlled. Measured.

One day, after a long, quiet walk together, you finally let out a deep exhale the second you’re home — slumping against the wall, mask slipping off like it weighs ten pounds. Your fingers twitch for your headphones like a reflex.

Romance watches, silent, then steps into your space. Not close enough to corner. Just enough to meet your eyes.

“You always hold it in like that?” You shrug. “It’s easier. People stare.”

He doesn’t smile this time.

“They stare because they don’t get it. Not because you’re wrong.”

He steps closer and lifts your hand — then kisses your knuckles.

“You don’t have to be smaller to be loved.”

You swallow.

“Also,” he adds with a smirk, “you dance like you’re possessed. It’s hot.” “I flail.” “Flail more, then.”

---------------------------

🔥 Baby

You left your door cracked open. He wasn’t even trying to spy — just headed to the kitchen when he caught the faint sound of your music and saw movement from the corner of his eye.

You, spinning. In socks. Headphones in, body fully surrendered to whatever beat’s got you wrapped around its little finger. You’re gone in the best way.

He watches for a moment, leaning against the wall. Not smirking. Not teasing. Just watching.

You spot him too late. Freeze mid-step. Your eyes go wide.

“Don’t stop,” he says, voice even. “I didn’t know you were there.” “Clearly.”

You fidget, embarrassed.

He nods toward your phone.

“That song’s good. Keep going.” “You’re gonna make fun of me.” “I won’t.” Then, serious: “You’re not weird. Okay? You’re just... alive.”

You don’t answer.

He sinks down to the floor, back against the wall, pulling his hoodie over his head in that quiet, casual way he does when he wants to be there without making noise.

Then, softly:

“Pretending’s exhausting. Don’t do it here.”

He taps the floor in rhythm. Stays while you press play again. Doesn’t move. Just lets you be you.

---------------------------------

M-List

[xstardrops]

Saja Boys x Manager Sim Update

Okay I forgot some stuff in the last post and just added something new every few hours, so lemme quick make an Update where everything is right- SO First of all, What is this? If everything is going as planned, this will be a Saja Boys x Manager Dating Sim/ Visual Novel, itll be a bit of everything, fluff, crack, angst, etc... There will be Multiple Routes, Choices and Endings. Maybe Manager looses their soul, maybe Manager finds true love, or maybe Manager just quits. We will see. Itll be an all fanmade project with people of the fandom who also enjoy the idea and wanna help at making this an actual thing.♥ Second, What we need. Lets be real I cant do that alone. So this project is looking for people who wants to join and help, we have a little Discord Server where everything and be discussed and people can brainstorm together! It would be great if you're 18+ in case we go down a spicy Route and you dont feel comfortable. I mean we dont go full nsfw but everybody should still feel comfortable! What we need are Some Artists = Sprites/ BG/ Gui/ etc (Everything art related really) Some Writer = Writer who can manage to write smooth and in character dialouges that are nice to read, and also narration and Managers Choices and text. Some Thinker = Some people who will figure out how the main story goes and ideas what to add, if its a serious story branch for a route or just a silly moments that should be added in a dialouge, to actual endings and so on. So we, when we're done have an actual Story and Routes, the writes can work with! Some Coder = I know the basics about coding but its been really long since I actually made something so I probably need a refresher too, so it would be great to have someone or more people who can help with that. Itll be just a Dating Sim/ Visual Novel kind of thing so hopefully nothing toooo hard to make. Sounds = If there are People who have experience with sound design or something and want to join this would also be great, even if its just a nice sound of bird chirping in the bg or a clicking noise. If any of those interest you, please fill out the Google Form https://forms.gle/7BD9mYgQeSDfscEv7 Nothing too fancy on there but itll be easer to have everything organized there! Ill be sadly kinda busy the next two days so I probably just add you on Discord and invite you into the server, when Im fully here again Ill start to give everybody some roles and we can start on the basics! Getting the rough Story down, Discussing some Routes, the artists can settle on an art style, and coding wise we can figure out what would be the easiest to use for this project! Also please, there is a self promo channel on the server, feel free to drop there everything you want drawing and writing wise id love to see them!!! So that should be the Final Post that has everything important in it, or ill go cry in a corner; But if you still have questions feel free to dm me here, Ill try to reply as quick as possible! With that I wish you all a nice morning/day/ evening!♥ Also apologizing for typos, english is hard-

[gothghostiie]

Hiiiiiiiii

Woop I know you don’t always answer asks and I’ve sent several other ones but can I please have soap content?

It can be literally anything I just need a speck of thing please it can be like one sentence if you so wish I don’t care I’m just absolutely feral for him and I need something

PLEASE

-📺

Im normal :3

I apologise beloved, I have not been feeling very creative/motivated lately, even tho I really want to write 😭 you're getting something from my wips that I thought of a few weeks ago

cw: reader is unsure but ends up enjoying it, fingering, oral (reader receiving), spit as lube, praise, gn!reader (some mention of genitalia but I always mention both), abrupt ending

Nurse!Soap who works in a big hospital. he's beloved by all his colleagues, from cleaning staff to the doctors, they know and love him. and how could they not? He's a kind man, always in a good mood, accommodating to the point people think he can read minds, and he just does good work in general. the patients love him too, he's a pro at cheering up kids and the elderly people absolutely adore his charm, he's made more than one heart monitor beep a little faster with his cheeky grin.

so when you get into the hospital, naturally, he's assigned to your room. lucky for Johnny you, it's a single room (for now, the empty bed on the other side does make you feel a bit uneasy in all honesty), giving you some well needed peace and privacy to rest properly. if it wasn't for Johnny. Johnny has decided to take his job a bit too serious with you, checking in on you whenever he can, making sure you have everything you need. he's a sweetheart and you truly like him, if not for his caring personality then for his good looks, at least you've got something to look at during all the boredom. you're truly starting to wish you'd be getting a roommate, but the bed stays empty. soap even offers to push the beds together to give you a bit more room, but you just laughed and shook your head, ignoring the split second of disappointment on his face, thinking you've just imagined that.

it's a quiet night on the ward, yet you're lying awake at 2am, unable to sleep. you just switch between staring out of the window and at the ceiling, trying to figure out which will make you go insane slower, when the door pushes open slowly. in the dim light you see a mohawk poke inside, soap raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees you looking back at him. "hey.. what are you doin' up so late?" his tone is gentle and a little teasing, hes giving you a toothy grin as he walks inside and closes the door behind him, you miss that he locks it quietly.

you smile at him with a sigh, telling him you cant sleep and you dont know why, youre tired enough for it after all. he walks closer and sits down on the side of your bed, placing a hand atop of the blanket, feeling for your thigh and 'accidentally' putting it far too close to your crotch. he frowns at you with pity, cooing something along the lines of "poor thing" while his hand inches a bit higher. "you know," he starts, "I could give you something to help you relax a bit." he offers, his tone low, like he's not supposed to say that.

you shake your head, you don't wanna take any more meds than you already do, you don't quite love taking the amount of pills you already do, and you could really stand to miss out on any injection, no matter how gentle soap is with them. but when you tell him that, he chuckles quietly and scoots closer. "I'm not gonna give you any more meds, love. gonna do something real nice for my favourite patient, alright?" you hesitate, eyeing him over once, his blue eyes have a twinkle that you can't quite read to them. before you can answer him he pulls back the blanket, exposing your pyjamas. you look at him startled, he smiles. "don't worry. Just lie back and let me take care of you, yea? that's my job after all."

you don't know why, but you listen to him. you lie back, your hands gripping the flimsy bedding a bit too tight, your hands getting damp. Johnny just smiles down at you while pulling your pyjama pants down to your knees along with your underwear, exposing you to the cold air, making your eyes widen. "johnny-"

"shh, it's alright, I promise. I'll be gentle." he winks at you, running a gentle hand over your cock/pussy. "look at that.. youre ready for me, aren't you?" he watches you twitch, smiling wider. "yea, you are." he starts touching you gently, getting you hard/wet, cooing praises at you. your mouth hangs open as you watch him, not even noticing that his free hand wanders, only realising when he's slipping his fingers into your mouth. he just grins at you. "get them nice and wet, alright? that's all you gotta do for me." he holds eye contact, giving a small, encouraging nod, smirking when he feels your tongue run over and between his calloused fingers, covering them in your saliva. he smiles as he pulls them out, watching it string between them. "good job.." he coos, shifting around to reach down, and press two slicked up fingers agaisnt your tight hole.

you gasp, tensing up, but he just chuckles quietly. "shh, it's alright. Just take a deep breath, and.." he pushes them inside, stretching you open slightly, grinning at the whine coming from your throat. "there we go.." he merely gives you a moment to adjust before he starts curling them inside you. soft moans spill from your lips, you immediately try to hold them back, not wanting anyone to hear through the paper thin walls of the hospital. one of your hands finally releases its death grip on the sheets to cover your mouth - soap immediately frowns. "nono, let me hear you. come on." he tries to coax you, gently placing the hand that was playing with your nub/cock before on your wrist, giving it a gentle tug, but you don't give way. his frown deepens, then he sighs. "You really that ashamed of your pretty little noises?" his fingers push deeper, moving faster. "ashamed someone will hear how well I take care of you?" soap tuts at you, rubbing his thumb over your wrist gently. "guess I'll just have to make sure you're louder."

with that he lets go of your wrist and dips his head down, placing a kiss on your clit/tip before wrapping his lips around it and suckling softly. your eyes widen and your hand presses down harder on your own lips, inhaling sharply through your nose. he smirks, humming approvingly before letting his tongue swirl around it, your hips twitching again. it's getting harder and harder to hold your whines back, your hands starting to hurt from how hard you're holding on, how are you're trying to shut yourself up, but johnny doesn't let up. not now that he has you right where he wanted you since you first got here a few weeks ago, not now that he can feel just how sensitive and desperate you are after not having touched yourself the whole time (he just knows you haven't, you're far too scared of someone (him) coming in and catching you in the act), not now that he can feel you clench around his fingers, not now that he knows how good you taste on his tongue. he'll only stop once he's made sure you've come undone, once he made sure you're tuckered out and ready to sleep, he's a good nurse after all.

[immaqulate]

i would've waited | c.s

— bf! chris sturniolo x gf fem! reader

— warnings: angst, infidelity (implied, dont do this), emotional confrontation, heartbreak, swearing, unresolved feelings

Chris always believed the distance was the problem. Until he learns it never really was.

requested by moot! | word count: 671

You never called it a breakup.

You used words like space and time and we’ll figure it out. Said the long distance would be too much—school, work, time zones. You told him, “It’s just better this way for now,” and Chris, who loved you more than logic or pride, didn’t argue. He just held you one last time in the terminal and said, “Okay.”

That was six months ago.

Six months of silence. Six months of wondering what the hell he did wrong. Of half-written texts, restless nights, and trying not to check your socials.

But then Matt sent him the screenshot.

“wait… isn’t this her?”

Instagram post.

You. Sitting on some guy’s lap. His hands on your thighs. Your smile realer than the one you ever gave in that last FaceTime.

And Chris couldn’t breathe. He stared at the photo like it was proof of a crime—because to him, it was.

You didn’t leave because of the distance, you left because someone else was already close.

-

Chris doesn’t text... Doesn’t call. He books a flight. He needed answers. He needs you to say it to his face.

You open the door in the same hoodie he left with you last winter.

His, still. Yours, now. That makes something in his stomach twist.

“Chris?” you ask, blinking like he’s a ghost.

“No,” he says, stepping inside, “you don’t get to look surprised.”

Your jaw tightens. “You can’t just show up—”

“Actually, I can,” he snaps. “I fucking did. Because I needed to know. Needed to see if it was true.”

Your face pales.

“You left me. You said it was too hard, too complicated.” His voice cracks, just slightly. “You said we needed time.”

“I meant it.”

“Did you?” he asks, stepping closer. “Because six months ago, I watched you cry in my arms about goodbyes. You kissed me like I was your forever. You swore there was no one else.”

“There wasn’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Chris says, bitter. “He didn’t just appear out of nowhere. You don’t end up on someone’s lap like that overnight.”

You don’t answer. And your silence is the loudest thing in the room.

Chris scoffs. He backs away like touching you might burn him now. “So what, huh? Did you line him up before or after you kissed me goodbye at the airport?”

You flinch.

“I just—” you start, voice cracking, “I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

“Then how the fuck did you mean for it to happen?”

“I didn’t think we’d make it,” you whisper. “The long distance, the missed calls, the time apart—I thought it would kill us slowly. And I—I didn’t want to resent you. I didn’t want you to hate me if I started to fade.”

“So you jumped into someone else’s arms before I even had the chance to prove you wrong?”

You blink rapidly. “I didn’t cheat.”

Chris laughs humorlessly. “You think that makes it better? That you waited until after to betray me?”

Your lip trembles, but you lift your chin anyway. “You don’t know what it was like. Being here. Feeling alone. Missing someone who was only ever half-present—”

“I would’ve waited,” he says quietly, voice breaking. “God, I would’ve waited forever if you asked.”

And for a second, your face shatters.

Like maybe that was the part you were too scared to believe. That you were loved that deeply.

“Chris,” you whisper, stepping toward him, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did.” His eyes are glassy. “You hurt me worse than anyone ever has. Because I never thought it would be you.”

He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t slam doors or curse your name.

Instead, he steps backward. And it’s so much worse.

Because Chris Sturniolo has always loved you softly. And now he’s walking away quietly.

That’s how you know it’s over.

“I hope he was worth it,” Chris says, turning around. “Because I would’ve crossed every mile for you.”

He walks out the door.

And this time, he doesn’t look back.

im actually devastated..

click here to be added to my taglist and here for masterlist <3

taglist 1 ✎ @chrisissobabygirl @sturnzwrld @strnilolover @sweetshuga @mattslilies @sirensdollesque @slxtarchive @heartsonlyforchris @sturns-mermaid @bluessturniolo @pasteldreams @endereies @solarsturniolo @drewswife @conspiracy-ash @courta13 @ivytthew @blushsturns @surprisecurlyfriess @mazzystarrysky @eclipsturns @riasturns @mattsgirl4ever @elisesturnz @ribbonlovergirl @chrisslut04 @pair-of-pantaloons @obxfansstuff @poppetbaby02 @bgfshai @kalel2005 @sturniszn @leahfaith @rafespuppyy

[stoopkidlisteningtocsh]

Not to a be a freak but i think its a little silly to expect a game about dating objects not to have taboo fanfic. I keep seeing it with Hector. Its insane to me that people are suprised alot of date everything fics especially hector ones have some focus on non consensual voyerism and play around with stalker tropes. My Brother In Christ. The whole game your reminded your being watched and analyzed and talked about. By EVERYTHING around you. You cannot escape it. And those objects also really have no choice in the matter ethier. So? Why are we suprised about works surrounding being watched and not knowing it? Are you being fr rn? Your being a prude about the object fucker game. You are being a prude about an hvac unit who can read you erotica about grates. Please get a grip if thats not ur thing than just dont read it

Also and i cant stress this enough THE GAME JUST CAME OUT. Alot of the people that will make fanfic are probably still trying to find all the charcters dude. and the horny people are fast thats how it always is. Fluff people and long story writers usually need a little more time. I dont want to babys first fandom anybody but yall gotta let it steep. Or just be the one to write the thing you want. The more thats out there the more thats encouraged to get written. Be the change you want to see in the world or whatever. Maybe match the pervert passion instead of complaining that in two weeks of the game coming out no ones made the exact fanfic you want with the exact character you like out of a cast of ONE HUNDRED AND TWO.

I mean this as harsh as it comes off when i say stop centering yourself in the fan creation sphere. Your lucky people even make fanfic with how little time and energy people have these days. So ethier be grateful or pull yourself up by your boobstraps and make it your damn self. Oh? What was that? Writings hard? Oh your afraid to put it out there cause of judgement? Oh this is nerve racking and not faster than writing non fanfiction? Maybe you should internalize that instead of going "i know its hard but i want hector fluff!! Stop making porn and make what i want" pay someone for it then. Respect the medium or shut up

[mi-co-uk]

maybe a blurb of grumpy matt braiding and brushing reader's hair?

I want someone to braid my hair 😞 woe is me

── GRUMPY MATT X MUTE READER ⋆˚࿔

matt opened her bedroom door to be greeted with her frowning expression and tears streaming down her face. 

“heyy, what the fuck happened?” his words were a little harsh from shock but his tone stayed gentle.

He reached his hands towards her to cradle her face, watching her nose twitch as she sniffed. She choked a sob before simply pointing towards her hair, freeing herself from matts hands to avoid eye contact. 

“Wha- your hair? Whats wrong with it?”

To matt her hair was perfect, no matter what she did with it. Out of stress dotty rolled her eyes before sitting in front of her vanity. She cradled her own face now, sobbing into her hands while matt dropped his bag on the floor. 

“Theres nothing wrong with it, dotty. What needs fixin’?”

She hurriedly wiped her tears, turning back to ramble out her signing to explain the specifics of what she wanted and what wasnt working. The problem now was that as much as matt knew what she was saying, he didnt know what it actually meant. 

“Hey, okay. Why dont you find me like a video and ill do it?”

She only stared wide eyed, the idea of matt doing her hair felt no more hopeful than her doing her own. 

“Cmon it should be easier since you wont be doing it yourself, right? Let me try.”

Dotty appreciated his enthusiasm but didnt have complete faith in it, scrolling through various videos to find the closest one. 

It was much more taxing then he expected, desperately trying to make perfect the braids without hurting her. Dotty even inquired about how late theyd be for class just to be dismissed by matt mumbling something about how time is a concept. 

His wrists ached and the only benefit of the whole process was that dotty had stopped crying. He sighed and rested his head sideways on her shoulder, reaching to hold dottys hand as he sat behind her. 

“Look let me just pay, ill drive you anywhere you wanna get it done.”

She reached back around to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, giggling to herself. 

“Yeah, yeah i know i did a shit job.”

She shook her head a placed a kiss to matts forehead before scurrying around her room to get ready to go. 

a/n I wanted this to be good for people with any hair type 😞

[yuuuraaa]

Don’t you feel it too? -西村 力

↳ ┊: beautiful stranger ~ laufey

[🎤]artist ~ idol!niki x pianist!reader [💿]album type ~ strangers to lovers! [🎧]genre ~ fluff! [▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| |]duration ~ oneshot [warning!] mentions of attempted kidnapping

featured artist!!

@orimuraa @rikimuraaaa @14raeriluv @lonelylandofan @deezbutz28 @monniemons @anormieee @rikihyph @highway-143 @strawberrymura @s1rawb3rry

producer’s note! [- trying to make a part two of my request bc i dont know what to do with my series fic. thanks to @orimuraa for making the idea!! -]

part one!

♪⋆.✮🎧ྀི𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮

“your preformance tonight was amazing.” riki says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“thank you. i went to your concert last month actually. you’re a really great dancer!” you reply back, your hands starting to sweat.

“i actually have another concert later. so i’m working on a time crunch…” you say as you slowly back away.

“wait! can i give you something?” riki says as he catches up with you, his breath becoming shaky.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹

“you handed her your number?!” jungwon shouts, his hands pressed to his head.

“to be honest, she has quite veiny hands. girls like that are hard to find.” jake interrupts jungwon with a joke.

“that’s not important! what if she leaks his number? what if the company doesn’t approve? that was such an immature move, riki. you didn’t even think about what might happen afterwards!” jungwon continued scolding riki, the others not caring at all.

“that girl is actually good, what if we do a collaboration with her?” heeseung suddenly asked, making everyone turn their heads.

"well, we have to ask our managers first before deciding it ourselves." jay replied calmly, not even looking up from his phone.

"nobody is getting the severity of the situation!" jungwon stressed even more, pacing around the dorm room.

"i searched her name up on instagram, and she has a massive following. around 3 million followers?” sunoo chuckled, not looking up from his phone either.

“well, i got us a free collab… right?” riki said sheepishly, also starting to laugh.

“it’s not— you know what, never mind… let’s go ask our managers…” jungwon said, after being defeated by his members.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞𝄢₊˚⊹

you were supposed to be at another show, but it seems you took a wrong turn. because now you were at a random alleyway, thanks google maps…

“great, a dead end. im late to my concert! and im lost!” you angrily mumble to yourself, until you hear something behind you.

“who’s there?” you turn around, but you couldn’t react fast enough as they cover your face with their hand and drag you away.

your screams couldn’t be heard as heavy rain started to pour.

“pianist?” a voice spoke out, riki?

"security!" he shouted, but it was too late, the kidnapper already escaped.

"are you okay? did they hurt you in anyway?" riki said as he helped you off the ground and into a hug.

"I missed my show and I'm lost somewhere in Korea!" you don't know if it's the rain or your tears, but you knew you needed him there. only for now.

"it's alright, where was your show?" riki asked, patting you back and eventually letting you go.

"I missed it, they canceled it. I should probably tell my manager where I am right now..." you admit, feeling quite sad after riki let you go.

you hear distant shout and riki runs off, leaving you alone in the alleyway again. this time, you followed him, hoping to at least go somewhere. anywhere, as long as you're not alone again.

after a short while of following riki, you bump into his members, standing with umbrellas while you don't have any.

"is that the pianist from earlier? did she follow you?" heeseung asked, looking at you and then riki.

"i-i uhm... I was lost and almost kidnapped but he saved me... I didn't know where to go..." you shyly say, the rain getting heavier and heavier.

"it's starting to rain heavily, do you want an umbrella?" sunoo asks, shooting a smile at you while handing an umbrella.

"o-oh, yeah, sure..." you take the umbrella and start to walk away.

"wait! actually, we wanted to discuss something with you. would you like to do a collab?" jungwon asks, leaving you speechless. your favorite group, asking for a collab?

[beatcroc]

been dying to formally introduce these guys for months now FINALLY got a general ref done. designs for sales and mean as their own individual....designs! which i made for my own nefarious purposes, but if this is something you ever had need or want for your own you're welcome to them.

i'm fascinated by how willfully confusing the game is about what traits belong to what side whenever there's any call to distinguish between them; the voices and colors and such have all been assigned to a contradictory side at least once and it's an extremely cool way to portray that despite ena's duality theming, she's still very much one being & it's futile to try and draw lines about where one part of her ends and the other begins. but, yknow.... it's interesting to try and do so anyway, and a very fun challenge to make something that still line up with my interpretations of each's role in the bigger picture.

anyway. rambling about my own business with them under cut

ok if you're down here i will be blunt. i made them for unbelievably toxic selfcest. really obsessed with how worker ena is kind of just the absolute worst to and for herself. mean Cannot Fucking Stand sales, and sales is... as indifferent and uncaring towards mean as they are to everything else.

it's intentionally very nebulous how much each are "themselves" vs. the whole entity of "ena", but the important vibe is just that they both know basically everything there is to know about the other and how they work. no lying to or hiding from themselves through the other, which is something ena loooooves to do normally. shes got to confront it here.

for sales i suppose there is.... the satisfaction of being effortlessly great at what they do. mean is a tough nut to crack but they have explicit insider knowledge of how to do so, and again for her own lack of desire to engage with anything, really just kind of lets them do whatever; meanie is really just to all ends their favorite to mess with. and while she's definitely way more dependent on them than they are on her, they do also need her to keep them in check since their "doesn't give a shit" nature also extends to their own being and they're bad at recognizing/respecting their own limitations and weaknesses as well.

this being what it is i haven't made much effort to give them actual extrinsic reasons for being/staying together; being part of the same entity means They Just Are A Pair And That's How It Is; but there's maybe something there in the ways of "sales really likes getting to do as they please and mean puts up with WAY more of their shit than anyone else", + "mean is just glad to not have to engage with anything herself and knows they know her better than anyone else will". 

there's an unfortunate amount of....trust? which is a word i that does not feel right to use here, but i've been unable to find a better one-- on her part, in the general familiarity they both have; in knowing no matter how much they piss her off that they're not going to try any shit to actually hurt her; being the same being and all, it would be detrimental to them both. meanie is also, i would say, Rather Particular, and feels like she hasn't got much else outside of them- which im going to be frank seems pretty damn substantiated by the game, but for the sake of this isolated dynamic i suppose it comes more from the passive dehumanization she’s been with from sales’ never giving a shit about her. 

it does bear to stress also that they are both terrible. don't get me wrong, salesperson is way more of a piece of shit and i do generally think meanie is getting the short end of the stick here, but also they aren't harmful by intent and meanie is still very much... well, mean about everything, on purpose, and even if it doesn't really phase sales at all i think somewhere she enjoys getting to take out that vitriol on someone, even if it is herself. maybe even especially then.

anyway i dont normally release wip's this scrappy but it's all i've got rn and it's tested well in friend circles for getting ppl on board w/ what im trying to cook so here's an Extremely basic vibes sketch

come with me. my awesome ship where everything sucks and nothing is good.

[3liza]

my sleep physician says i have obstructive sleep apnoea and what is basically narcolepsy (my sleep latency is too long but they think it’s linked to my cpap use or something) and he’s prescribed modafinil. do you have any thoughts on it? i seem to remember you talking about it at one point but obviously tumblr search function sucks.

also kudos to him for being maybe the only specialist who took my concerns seriously in our first appt and scheduled sleep studies there and then and i didn’t have to look for another doctor who wouldn’t just tell me to lose weight.

modafinil is a really interesting drug, lets see if i can summarize what i think i know about it without misinforming anyone.

modafinil is still sort of a mystery drug. we know it works and that it has a good safety profile, but we dont know exactly how. it's a central nervous system stimulant, but the more occult behaviors of the drug aren't clear. it temporarily blocks the part of your brain that perceives that you are tired. it does not actually rest you, or lessen your sleep debt, but it allows your brain to temporarily ignore it. if you have chronic sleep deprivation and/or fatigue (these may be the same thing but thats a different post), then shutting off your interoception of tiredness can make you smarter, more alert, less anxious, more focused, etc. this is theorized to be what is causing the "nootropic" effect that modafinil is credited with on reddit. its unclear if modafinil provides any cognitive benefits to people who arent sleep deprived, but so far most studies have said no.

so even though its an excellent temporary way to ignore fatigue, i dont think doctors who deal with sleep disorders are focusing enough (or sometimes at all) on making sure the patient improves the quality and duration of their actual sleep. without actual decent sleep everyone just continues to sicken gradually. modafinil wont help with that, the doctor also needs to be actively working on fixing whatever is going on with the narcolepsy and apnea (although the narcolepsy may just be a manifestation of your sleep deprivation).

modafinil can give you a mood boost but usually doesnt cause euphoria like many other stimulants can, so it has largely replaced amphetamines in the united states military (especially air force) as a combat drug. it stacks well with caffeine. in my experience it does not stack well with adderall and will also sometimes just block adderall completely. everyone's drug metabolism is really really different so you wont know until you try it how it can affect you

contraindications/warnings: modafinil is a histamine-dumping monster. if you have allergies or problems with mast cells, modafinil has a strong likelihood of making them worse (until the dose runs out, not permanently). it can also shoot itself in the foot and end up being useless or making you sleepier if your histamine load gets bad enough. theoretically you could derail the histamine dump with antihistamines but i havent found a combination that works yet

modafinil is also sometimes dogshit for people who get migraines, depending on what is causing your migraines. modafinil causes neck and shoulder clenching and dehydration, and those two things in combination with the histamine load = instant migraine for a lot of people including myself

its important to drink 10x the amount of water (with electrolytes) you usually drink when youre on modafinil (another reason i cant take it successfully). dehydration is the hardest side effect to manage. also, it often takes many hours to kick in, so if youre in that boat, it's annoying to time correctly. a lot of people set an alarm for like an hour before they have to get up, take the modafinil, go back to sleep, and it's kicked in by the time they have to get up. you can take it sublingually but it tastes sooo bad. also the half-life is about 8 hours, so it can sometimes still be active when youre trying to go to bed that night

modafinil is a cyp3a4 inducer, which means it will interfere with the metabolism of a lot of other drugs, any drugs that use the cyp3a4 enzyme to function, which is a lot of them. in addition to the case study i just posted where a guy got so low on salt after a modafinil OD that his brain swelled up, there is also this elderly lady who took too much modafinil and had an adrenal crisis (and also got so low on salt), apparently because hydrocortisone uses cyp3a4 for metabolism (which explains also why i cant seem to get modafinil to work for me, im chronically low on cortisol).

so modafinil is pretty safe, doesnt seem to cause long term effects once discontinued, and is worth trying. it works great for a lot of people. watch your water + salt intake while youre on it and double check drug interactions

[virtualcryptz]

House MD characters with... BPD reader.

characters: allison cameron, eric foreman, gregory house, james wilson, robert chase

tws: self-destructive behaviour (binge eating, drug abuse, suicide attempts, self harm), enabling, vague description of manic episodes.

A/N: written at like 4am pls treat me kindly <3 house is slightly toxic but its accurate imo so cope!! tried to refer to a broader spectrum, including things i dont experience, so sorry if it's not all 100% accurate :C

Allison Cameron

Definitely one of the more understanding of the OGs.

Very big on communication puts a lot of effort into being completely open. Never wants to make you feel like you've been pushed aside.

Finds it kinda hard to move on from splits, but does get that, 99% of the time, you don't mean what you're saying. Still takes it to heart, though.

Will happily sit there and wait for you to come down and be ready to talk.

Worries a lot when you're manic. She doesn't want to infantalise you but she can be a little bit overbearing.

Non-judgemental when it comes to self harm. Just cleans up however necessary, sits with you and reassures you.

She does push you to stop self harming, but also realises it can be very addictive for most people.

She finds it quite hard to accept when you do something bad during episodes, but often excuses it and pushes blame onto whatever the trigger was. She's not that bothered about apologising tbh.

Eric Foreman

Struggles a lot, especially at first.

He isn't great with empathy, so it's hard for him to really understand, especially since you're considerably more emotional than he is.

After a while, he at least learns what you need from him, and he gets into the habit of reassuring you whenever you fight.

"I am mad, but that doesn't mean I hate you or I'm leaving you. We'll work it out."

After the first few splits aimed at him, he does stop taking it personally, but will understandably get annoyed if you refuse to apologise.

He takes note of any uncharacteristic behaviour - he hates to see you going down that slope.

Especially notices overindulgence in drugs, from everything with his brother. Overreacts if you end up doing any, especially if you spend a lot of money. It gets very heated, very quickly.

Good at grounding during dissociative episodes. Stays with you as long as you need him. He has little to no problem with missing work or showing up late for you.

Gregory House

Probably does a DDX on you when he notices any symptoms you display. He knew before you told him. Hell, his whole team knew before you told him!

That, and if you're diagnosed, he's probably gone digging around your records. Furthermore, if you are formally diagnosed, he does a LOT to make sure you don't have to deal with any biases.

He's honestly not great. Let's be real. But he does try, which is more than you can say about what he does for the others.

He's aware that the amount of time he spends with Wilson can be triggering for abandonment. But he's also pretty shit at reassuring you. So he brings you along to a lot of hangouts :]

Short of having his eyes on you 24/7, he never knows what to do when you're manic. He can make as many sarcastic jokes and backhanded comments as he wants it doesn't make him any less anxious.

Projects a lot of his own issues onto you, but amplifies it iykwim? Assumes that something that upsets him could trigger something serious with you.

He is possibly the worst person to split on. When you go low, he goes lower. Disagreements turn into shouting matches quickly and usually end in meltdowns.

You are one of the few people he'll actually apologise to you. Not just because he cares more, but also because there's a lot less that can go unsaid. He can guess that Cuddy and Wilson understand through his actions that he's sorry, it's less of a gamble he wants to take with you.

James Wilson

The MOST forgiving out of all of them.

The only downside is that, like he is with House, he is an enabler. He just can't find the line.

When you're splitting, he honestly just sits there and takes it.

Also never expects an apology. Would probably let you get away with using it as an excuse for poor behaviour, if you ever did.

That said, he does get that you can't really help a lot of it.

When it comes to self destruction, he's always focussed on making sure you're okay. Nothing else seems to matter in the moment, even if you've hurt him in the process.

I mean, he's a head of department in a hospital. reckless spending isn't too much of an issue. If need be, he's more than happy to use his status to get you better care.

However, as mentioned above, he does enable. He doesn't encourage it but rarely pushes you to quit more risky vices.

One of the few that would seriously push you to seek help. Very aware that BPD can be manageable, so long as there's proper help.

Also does what he can to get you medicated if that's something you're seeking out.

Robert Chase

He's not perfect, but he knows what it's like to feel alone and abandoned.

Very empathetic - he tells you he's here for you as many times as you need to hear it.

Incredibly worried about the idea of you making a suicide attempt - if it happens once he gets a little paranoid about it. If he wakes up in the night and you're not there, he panics.

He knows that splits aren't something either of you can really help, but it's tough. He tries not to leave you alone during episodes he's also not gonna sit there and take it.

Kind of mocks your delusions. It's well-intentioned but it can make it harder to be open about.

He's pretty used to being snapped at, from both family and work, so he mostly takes it in his stride.

That being said, he can usually tell when the shouting and hostility is coming from a place of self-sabotage, for the sake of burning bridges.

Overall, quite the worrier. Doesn't want to bombard you about it, but he picks up on most changes in demeanour and sort of notes it down for later. Just in case.

[pedge-page]

Purpose

Neighbor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: joel teaches you about your purpose.

Warnings: young!reader (20 something). Naive. Joel is creepy/perverted. Slight coercion. Breeding kink. Lots of talks of pregnancy and body parts. Creampie. Groping/ touching.

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You didnt have a mom growing up. You dad took care of you but never answered any of your pressing questions. By the time you were 20, you were too embarrassed to ask anyone else about the why's.

Why do you have boobs and men dont. Why a vagina when he has a dick. You weren't stupid: you knew what all the differences were. Explained in anatomical terms about how it works. But nobody told you "why".

You're very glad to have a good neighbor like Joel. He didnt laugh at you despite your clear embarrassment. Instead he invited you in. Let you sit on his couch. And he talked you through it all:

He holds your hand gently while strumming your arm with his other knuckle. "Well its all related to one thing actually: making babies."

"I thought it takes two to make a baby."

"It does. Let me rephrase. To have a baby, you got all these special parts."

You frown, not sure why so many differences were needed.

He explained further "see ya get these beautiful hips when you mature: thats for help carrying that little guy in there when he starts to get heavy." He lifts your shirt ever slightly, gently tapping your belly button."

"And if ya sit up for me--" he places his warm hand at the arch od your lower back, feeling your curve. "Helps ya push better. When its time to come out."

His finger trails up your stomach to your chest. You listen with curious eyes, not caring at the way he squeezes your tit ever slightly. "N ya gotta feed them when they come out. Can't just be eating hot dogs with no teeth. So they need to drink from here. They droop and get bigger to help the baby when ya swaddle him."

He leans further down, wrapping his lips around your tit through your shirt, peering up at you. "See?"

He wipes his mouth, noticing the wet ring he left around your shir. Licking his lips as he eyes you over. "Ya see? Everythin' designed with purpose."

"Purpose being..."

He chuckles. "To carry babies. Thats what ya here for."

You think about it for a moment. Yeah, you knew women could have babies, but you never realizes all the little differences were solely JUST to carry a baby. There were no other reasons. Just all the same one.

The loss of his touch suddenly makes you shiver.

"So why... why does it... feel good. When they get touched? Theres no baby here."

"Oh." He presses himself more closely to you. "This feel good?" He asks as his finger flicks your erect nipple through your shirt. His other hand strokes along your inner thigh.

Your body feels hot, heart racing. Its like his touch is suddenly all you can thikk about. You nod.

"That's also with purpose. See, makin' babies is supposed to feel good. Ya supposed to enjoy it. Thats why ya get all tingly when yoyre touched. Its ya body's way of sayin' it wants a baby in her."

"Does that ... mean its time?"

Joel shrugs innocently. "Do you feel it?"

"It just... feels really good when you touch me. I feel... warm."

"Yeah? Like this?" He presses a wet kiss to your neck. At the same time, his thick palms spread over your chest and down to cup both breasts. "S feel good?"

You let out a whimper.

"Um...and ..." you dont want to say it. But Joel watches as your eyes glance down to your lap. Your legs shifting together uncomfortably, trying to alleviate the pressure in your core.

"Feelin' bothered here too?" He nudges your legs open. The scent of your arousal fill his lungs almost immediately. His eyes flutter for a moment, squeezing your thighs hard. You're already wet for him. "Thats good, baby. All the signs are there."

"Would you... can i...?"

"You want my babies?"

You nod eagerly. "You said it was time."

Joel swallows, unbuttoning your shorts. "If that's what you want. I'm in no position to deny your needs." He let's out a a slight gasp when your shorts and panties are pulled off: your pussy glistening, clit twitching. "Besides... i can teach ya little bit about my parts too." He rubs his hardened length through his jeans. "But first--" Joel gets to his knees, pulling your hips so you slide down the couch with a yelp. "M gonna need to make sure this pussy is up for the tast. Not an easy thing, makin babies."

"Its not?" You say softly, a hint of worry in your voice.

"Not at first. But somethin' tell me--" he prods at your entrance with his thick fingers. Your hips are already moving up to his lips desperately.

He smirks. "Somethin' tells me you're a natural."

-

After a generous load buried deep into your cunt, you lay back on the couch and sigh contently. Joel was right. Your body feels so much better. All the aches and needs dissipated as soon as he fucked you through and through.

He's already standing up and buckling his belt. "Bet ya need to be gettin home now."

You feel cold shock run through you. "Wait! How do I know if im pregnant? Am i...?"

"Fraid we wont know any time soon. You'll need to keep comin' back every day so we can keep trying."

"Every day?"

"I ain't know when ya ovulating. And sometimes it dont stick. Gotta hit it closer to your fertile window--"

Your confused stare back at him makes him shake his head.

"Forget it. Thats a little too much for ya right now. Still a beginner." He sees you to the door.

"Every day?" You ask.

"Yup."

"Until?"

"Until ya got a baby in there," he teases , poking your belly button with a grin. "Till then. Gotta just keep tryin. Means more feelin' good."

Your face gets warm as you cant hide your smile. "I like making babies," you admit.

He kisses your forehead. "'Supposed to. Its ya purpose. Feels good to achieve your purpose."

You nod and leave, feeling Joel's warm cum already pooling into your underwear.

You can't wait for tomorrow to come.

- - - -

Perhaps.... a part 2?

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld @urlivingdeadgirl @yourmommycallsmemommy @kellielovesmovies @whoaitspascal87 @yournameyn @mani-pedro

[xylatox]

A Prince’s Respite || yjg

Oh my god chapter two is here and I swear to god I will pass out. I havent even started and the chapter warning has already gotten to me.

Aha, now it’s getting fun! Hyunjin’s face is a stiff smile, undeterred. “As your knight, I must advise you against letting personal emotions cloud your judgment,” he said, back straight, hands folded in mock seriousness. “As your friend, however—” He dropped the act in an instant. “—I’d like to formally call you a coward.”

Will forever love Hyunjin honestly, hes the friend we all need

Your eyes met across the courtyard. He had expected you to look away or wear the mask of indifference during your duties you usually wear, but no, you’d smiled and waved at him. Smiled and waved. 

He is such a cutie pie i cant oh my god😭😭

Hyunjin was still talking. "All that over a smile and a wave. Honestly, if you’re going to embarrass yourself, at least make it look cool. Something better than tipping over fire pits like a common lovesick fool."

Hyunjin is spitting straight bars here

Yun ugh, i really really am the biggest fangirl of your work, it makes me so giddy you would not believe

IM GOING TO PASS OUT, HIM SENDING A GIFT IS SO FREAKING CUTE IM GOING TO THROW UP.

He could fight off political opponents and hold his own in court debates, but the idea of standing in front of you again, of seeing your face with no walls between you, made him feel like he was seventeen and hopelessly lovesick. So he prayed—an entire internal monologue of prayers, to the heavens, to fate, to anyone who might grant him this mercy—that Hyunjin, for once in his life, would do what he was told without being a little shit.

This was so freaking cute and so funny at the end i cant

Hyunjin really is a little shit here I cant

That entire scene is so hilarious honestly, like it brings me so much joy to see the banter and the pure annoyance from Jeongin ugh 

The sun was still high, but it had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the roses swaying gently in the wind. Maybe if you take advantage of this good weather and wrap up your work by afternoon, you can go visit the town to buy the few things you still need. Your cloak would need repair before travel. A few fresh pouches for storage wouldn’t hurt either. And perhaps—

A rustle interrupted your thoughts. You paused, instinct kicking in before reason, and turned toward the sound. 

Omg this entire little sequence i could give you a smooch for it i swear to god this was just perfect

Jeongin stared at you with a dazed sort of urgency, the barest tremble in his pupils betraying whatever fragile state he’d been in moments before. He was repeatedly blinking his somewhat widened eyes at you as though his vision needed recalibrating to truly see you. His lips parted, but no words followed.

Istg i will pass out. WHY IS HE RUNNING???😭😭😭😭😭

It was almost fascinating to see how his face combusted into a shade of red from a single touch. His entire posture tensed as though trying very hard not to bolt again. A touch so innocent and yet, this man, the same one who ravished you as if he was on some heady elixir, now threatening to fall apart under your touch. He was so… maddingly cute, and it was killing you.

I love when men are stupid in love and dont know what to do

Yeah. You were definitely falling in love with him all over again.

You and me both…you and me both sigh

"Your Highness," you said, the title softened by the way it left your lips. "If you keep running off like this, how will I ever manage to tell you that I love you?"

BRO YUN I WILL THORW UP AND PASS OUT WHAT THE FUCK. CAN I HAVE HER INSTEAD??

"Dove," he said under his breath, those intense eyes had softened with such overflowing tenderness that they nearly knocked you off your orbit, "you’re killing me."

The two of you were never meant to run from each other but to each other, always, like this.

Yun your goddamn words

Then, instead of handing it to you, he set it down gently between you on the stone, like he was giving you the choice to take it or leave it. It was almost ridiculous, how your chest fluttered at the sight. The bashful softness of the gesture, the lack of pressure—it was cute. So very him. You didn’t know how your heart could take any more of this.

Something about this feels so cute and respectful and just fits the era. I love them so much

Nestled inside was a bolo tie, unlike any you’d seen before. Its centerpiece was a plum blossom, delicate in shape and crafted in a soft metallic gold with subtly curved petals that lend it a lifelike charm. Slender golden cords extended from it, long enough to trail down the chest in a graceful line, ending in small teardrop-shaped tips.

I will throw up and pass out. He thinks about her so much

NOT THE PLUM BLOSSOM HAVING A WHOLE BROOO😭😭😭😭

"May I help you put it on?"

Hes so goddamn respectful i cannot take it

Duties that cradled the fate of the boy you loved.

Yun Jesus fucking christ

Also I freaking love her so much, the way she momentarily calmed down when he said he’ll accompany her to the city before losing it again😭shes so cute

I will never get over the dove nickname, genuinely makes me so weak.

Jeongin’s idea of having "his ways" came to fruition in the form of him standing smack in the middle of your office dressed in what he proudly declared to be a knight’s disguise (his words, not yours) with Felix in tow. 

I love it when extra thoughts are in parentheses it makes me so happy. Also hes soso cute uugh

“Felix,” you calmly said, gaze never once leaving Jeongin’s figure in the distance. “Make sure you protect the prince at all cost.”

He looked mildly amused by your order. With a small smirk and closed eyes, he dipped his head slightly. “Of course, miss. I’m happy to follow orders.”

I am grinning like a fool at this

He deserved to smile like that. It didn’t belong to the people or the palace—it belonged to him. And it was worth protecting.

I will always love how the way you end these little sections

His eyes darted over your shoulder, landing on Jeongin. “And who’s this fellow with you? Looks strong. New knight?”

Did I giggle? Yes. The way his disguise worked. Also he reacts to her touch sp cutely i cant

A younger woman looked up from arranging labels and let out a surprised gasp. “Chief!” she squealed, practically beaming. “I didn’t know you were visiting today!”

Oh my god shes so cute

Also i love that here we see how much the mc does and its honestly so sweet because it speaks volumes for her character and it honestly makes me so excited to see the depth there is to her.

Also i am living for the fact that everyone is buying the disguise

With my life. It translated too easily in your mind. I love you.

::::(((( yun i cant do this

…then perhaps they would not mind having you as their future queen.

Yun i am going to pass out i swear

If there was anyone who deserved the love of this kingdom and the trust to guide its future, it was you.

These lines i swear

“But I never feel it,” he said, pushing the scarf further down with one hand, then taking a breath so full it seemed to expand through his entire chest. “It feels so nice.”

Oh this was slightly sad but very cute :( You know the people living their first lives? Thats how Jeongin feels here

His hands cradled your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheek where raindrops clung like dew. Damp strands slipping between his fingers as he pulled you in, lips crashing into yours. The cold of the storm dissolved into the feverish warmth between your mouths. You tasted rain and the ghost of honey cream, felt the tremor in his breath when you tilted your head, felt your spine press against the rough stone wall behind you when he stepped in even closer.

I need a man in my life that is this yearning i swear

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, the words hoarse and breathless, sounding like they’d forced their way out. “I don’t know how to look at you and not say it. How are you this beautiful?” His eyes searched yours, as if he’d never seen you until now. “It’s maddening.”

Oh my god.

FELIX NO IM GOING TO DIE. PLEASE WORLD SWALLOW ME WHOLE.

Bless his soul for not saying anything

The tips of his ears were faintly pink from the heat, or perhaps the unexpected intrusion.

I am so giggly ugh

Minho raised a hand. "Then we find another way to get the antidote," he said plainly, assuring you. "You panicking isn’t going to make them change their minds. But let’s read what they said first."

Minho being so calm ugh, love him. The way id be so worried too

His hand skimmed the back of your head, then settled briefly between your shoulders while his chin came to rest atop your crown. After a while, he pulled back just enough to glance down at you, sniggering. "I sensed your mental breakdown all the way from the knight quarters."

Hes so fucking cute ugh

"Painfully. I almost had to come charging in here with smelling salts and a fan," he replied, giving your back a single pat before nudging you toward the chairs.

And freaking dramatic i love him

“Of course I’ll return to you,” you whispered back fondly. “Where else am I supposed to go? You’re my home.”

Oh my god no. Man

"Oh, but we are doing this," Hyunjin replied smoothly, giving his sword a lazy twirl before settling into a low stance. "Because I need to decide whether I’m handing her over so easily."

I literally went oh my god out loud. I cant believe we’re doing this. Big bro Hyunjin

YUN WHAT??? JUST LIKE THAT???

Felix stepped back, gaze fixed downward. Hyunjin remained near Jeongin, catching his breath, sweat dripping from his temple. Jeongin hadn’t said a word. No words passed between the three of them as the hallway settled back into tense, humming silence.

Jesus freaking hell Yun girl you will kill me with the suspense actually.

But god this was an amazing 2nd chapter. I love that we got so much depth from the mc while also seeing how in love Jeongin is while quite literally having the most intense action in the end (you will kill me i swear). You writing always amazes me honestly. Its genuinely so poetic and beautiful i cant. I cant wait forthenext chapter😭

A Prince's Respite || Yang Jeongin

CHAPTER TWO: THE BOOK

.☘︎ ݁˖Back to story ml

Lately, Prince Jeongin has been plagued by relentless nightmares and sleepless nights. As the kingdom’s head pharmacist—and his oldest friend—you’ve tried every remedy in your arsenal, but nothing seems to bring him peace. So, you take it upon yourself to craft something entirely new, a cure never attempted before. What begins as a quest to help the boy you’ve always cared for quickly turns into something far more complicated. You only meant to ease his nightmares, but you end up getting more than you bargained for.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 20.6k

pairing: prince!Yang Jeongin x head pharmacist!afab!reader

[NOTE that: Specific warnings will be listed before every chapters]

chapter warnings: kissing, attempt at humour, yang jeongin is a man drunk in love, tooth-rotting fluff, assassination attempt, violence [probably missed some]

FINALLY THIS CHAPTER HAS LEFT THE DUNGEONS!! I got busy with life and some other stuff heuheu I'm sorry for the delay my loves </3 But hold your horses, things get a little messy from this chapter! Man I can't believe it'll end next chapter :(( Reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

© filmsbyun ── please do not copy, translate, or repost my work without permission.

The crown weighed heavier when your heart was elsewhere.

Jeongin had worn the crown all morning like it was made of lead, the ceremonial band pressed into the lines where his thoughts should have been. But they were not. They had long since drifted back in your office wrapped up in the aftertaste of your lips. He couldn’t shake off your voice when you admitted you would have given him your permission; the softness of your admittance had undone him more thoroughly than the kiss ever could. It chanted like a benediction between his ribs, looping in his mind with the rhythmic beat of his pulse.

The court was looking at a prince who was set to be the future king to speak of the fate of borderland villages and spring harvests, while all he could think about was how he’d find the courage to look you in the eyes again. 

Jeongin was a prince with a kingdom to inherit, but he loved you like a boy who knew nothing of crowns and like a man who had already chosen his forever. 

“You’re distracted.”

Night had lowered its velvet black veil. Jeongin didn’t even flinch, merely sighing deeply as Hyunjin without an ounce of decorum strolled in. Who else would it be? No one else talks to a prince like they’re trying to annoy him on purpose. 

“Didn’t I tell you to knock?” Jeongin muttered, not bothering to look up. Hyunjin’s habit of entering rooms unannounced is becoming a major pain. The last time he did, he had nearly walked in on Jeongin very much entangled with you in a moment that no one was supposed to witness.

Hyunjin completely ignored his complaint, flopping lazily onto the chair across him, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied grin. “It’s my duty as your loyal knight to check up on you, Your Highness.” Then with a serious expression, “I’ve been ordered to stay close to you because of you-know-what.”

That earned Hyunjin a glance, albeit brief. “You’re not checking up on me,” Jeongin stated, voice dry. He knitted his brows. “You’re up to something.”

“Observant as always.” Hyunjin smirked, resting his elbow on the prince’s desk. “But you’re only half right. I am here to guard you and while I’m at it, I figured I’d complete my side quest.”

Jeongin groaned internally. He did not have the mental capacity to put up with whatever idiotic idea Hyunjin had conjured up. Hyunjin’s grin only widened at Jeongin’s perturbed state. 

“How long do you plan on hiding it, Your Highness?” his eyes narrowed slightly.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, not bothering to reply just yet, hoping the silence would serve as enough of a hint. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied eventually. He hoped he sounded bored enough. But Hyunjin was not one to give up easily. The man could poke a stone until it cracked.

Hyunjin scoffed, rolled his eyes so hard Jeongin found himself wishing they fell off inside his skull. “Oh, please. Spare me the act, Jeongin. We both know exactly who I’m talking about.”

A muscle jumped in Jeongin’s jaw but he gave no other reaction. So that’s what it was. Jeongin had a feeling sooner or later this idiot would come to play cupid. But there was no way Hyunjin knew about last night—no one did. The memory was his alone.

Besides, Jeongin wasn’t even sure he had the courage to tell Hyunjin what happened without combusting into a stuttering and embarrassed mess. The confident man from last night was on the verge of recoiling in a fetal position every time he thought about it. Everytime he thought of you. Jeongin coughed softly, covering his mouth behind a fist as a flush crept on the tip of his ears. Hyunjin pickled it up immediately. 

Aha, now it’s getting fun! Hyunjin’s face is a stiff smile, undeterred. “As your knight, I must advise you against letting personal emotions cloud your judgment,” he said, back straight, hands folded in mock seriousness. “As your friend, however—” He dropped the act in an instant. “—I’d like to formally call you a coward.”

Jeongin ran a hand through his hair as if doing so will scrape the embarrassment out of his scalp. “Hyunjin.” 

“You like her.”

No point denying it. Hyunjin didn’t need to know that part. 

“I know you do.”

Jeongin exhaled deeply through his nose and stared pointedly at a stack of reports. Anything was better than meeting Hyunjin’s eyes.

“And before you argue,” Hyunjin added, tone brightening with faux innocence, “need I remind you how you practically set the practice arena on fire with your sheer lack of focus this morning? What was that? That was pathetic, Jeongin. Truly. "

He didn’t need to be reminded. Jeongin could still feel the scorch of mortification. During the morning patrol, while he had been walking the perimeter watching sparring pairs and giving corrections—he caught sight of you heading toward the greenhouse. Your eyes met across the courtyard. He had expected you to look away or wear the mask of indifference during your duties you usually wear, but no, you’d smiled and waved at him. Smiled and waved. 

 That simple gesture meant everything and had jolted his thoughts back into chaos. In that one second of distraction, his hand had clipped the edge of a brazier stand. It crashed spectacularly to the ground, flames licking the edges of a banner. 

Hyunjin was still talking. "All that over a smile and a wave. Honestly, if you’re going to embarrass yourself, at least make it look cool. Something better than tipping over fire pits like a common lovesick fool."

Jeongin groaned and leaned forward to press his forehead to the cool wood of his desk. Maybe if he stayed still long enough, Hyunjin would leave. Or maybe the floor would open up and swallow him whole. But neither happened.

Hyunjin grinned, teeth flashing like he’d just discovered the juiciest secret in court. “Oh? No protest? No ‘Hyunjin, don’t be ridiculous’? Interesting.” He leaned in further, lowering his voice. “So, Your Highness. What are you planning to do about it?”

Jeongin let out a slow breath, controlled but not nearly deep enough to drown the thoughts swarming in his skull. At last, he met Hyunjin’s gaze across the desk, chin tilted with princely poise.

“Nothing.” He lied.

Hyunjin reeled back as if personally offended. “Nothing?”

Jeongin looked back down at his desk, straightening the papers that didn’t even need straightening, not even a crease out of place. “It’s not that simple.” He lied again.

Hyunjin scoffed, his disbelief practically rolling off him in waves. “It is that simple. You like her. She—” He paused, then clicked his tongue. Hyunjin played cupid with you that day and got all the answers he needed. “Well, let’s just say if you did do something about it, I doubt she’d turn you away.”

At that, Jeongin got reminded of your words of affirmation. But even then, even with your hands in his hair and your lips pressed to his like you meant it, he’d been too afraid to stay long enough to hear what you had to say. So he chickened out and left without giving you the chance to reply. This time, the blush didn’t just touch his ears, it smothered his entire face.

 “Oh?” Hyunjin pounced on it immediately. “Oh? Look at you, getting all flustered. That’s cute.”

“Get out, Hyunjin.” Jeongin muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “Leave me alone.”

“You know I can’t really do that. I’ll be stationed just outside your chamber. But as you command, Your Highness.” He stood up and gave a theatrical bow, turning to leave. “I’ll leave you to your tragic pining—”

“Wait.”

Hyunjin paused mid-step, arching a brow over his shoulder. Jeongin was already on his feet, the chair screeching faintly against the floor as he all but bolted across the room with a speed that gave Hyunjin momentary whiplash. Hyunjin deduced to himself that the sudden mood swings were also probably symptoms of being lovesick.

Prince Jeongin seemed to have two illnesses plaguing him at the same time.

Jeongin stopped before a small, intricately carved wooden chest nestled between ancient scrolls and diplomatic seals. When he turned back, he held a modest bundle wrapped in deep blue silk.

Hyunjin squinted at it. “...What is that?”

Jeongin refused to explain and instead extended it like a peace offering. “Deliver this to her.”

Hyunjin scowled at the package, then up at Jeongin’s face, now tinted a fresh shade of red.

“What.”

“It’s a gift,” Jeongin muttered, bracing for resistance. “Just give it to her.”

He could fight off political opponents and hold his own in court debates, but the idea of standing in front of you again, of seeing your face with no walls between you, made him feel like he was seventeen and hopelessly lovesick. So he prayed—an entire internal monologue of prayers, to the heavens, to fate, to anyone who might grant him this mercy—that Hyunjin, for once in his life, would do what he was told without being a little shit.

Hyunjin, very pointedly, did not take it. “Jeongin.”

The heavens were cruel and apparently not listening.

“I’m not an errand boy.”

Jeongin exhaled, attempting patience. “Hyunjin—”

“I am specifically not a messenger.”

Jeongin rubbed his temple with the slow, controlled agony. He was beginning to spiral. “You’re being difficult.”

Hyunjin crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m being difficult? Says the man who could hand it to her himself but is instead asking me—who has no part in this—to play delivery boy?” He narrowed his eyes, tone sharpening with relish. “Coward.”

Jeongin’s brow twitched, his jaw tightening as he fought to maintain some semblance of regal dignity. But the truth was, Hyunjin was right—he was acting like a coward. He had given you the pieces of his heart in the dead of night, wrapped in honesty and sealed with a kiss, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eye.

Maybe chivalry is dead. It died when he carved out his heart and placed it in your hand last night, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to do with it. Wait, did it really die though?

Maybe it was simply tucked away in the palm of your hands along with his heart, resting safely in the place where his courage had fled. Either way, it didn’t help him now.

“Give it to her yourself,” Hyunjin added, taking full advantage of his victory. He was now fully enjoying himself. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared.”

Jeongin pinched the bridge of his nose like he could physically force away the headache Hyunjin had become. “This is not complicated—”

“No, what’s not complicated is that you can walk up to her yourself and hand it over like a normal person,” Hyunjin snapped, voice laced with exasperation. He threw his hands up. “What, do you want me to curtsy too? Give a substantial speech? ‘My prince bids thee well, oh wise and mysterious healer, and bestows upon thee this most precious—’”

“Enough.” Jeongin’s tone didn’t rise, but it hardened, eyes flashing as he shot Hyunjin a look that could slice steel. He was seconds away from punching Hyunjin’s pretty face. Hyunjin never knew when to shut up, and right now, the words were scraping nerve endings raw.

“Then take your gift,” Hyunjin equally shot back. “March your princely self over there and give it to her.”

Jeongin is a rational person (well, sometimes). He knew Hyunjin meant nothing but harm—no, that wasn’t right. He meant nothing but well and it wasn’t some cruel joke or mocking jab. But the fact remained that he wasn't compliant enough to lend him a hand during his most hardest times. Alright maybe Jeongin was being a tad too dramatic about this, but whatever! Hyunjin had always played the role of the aggravating knight-friend hybrid who seemed to know exactly where Jeongin’s walls were built and made it his mission to kick at them.

Jeongin opened his mouth, but no answer came other than a brief hesitation before his lips pressed into a thin line. The package in his hand stared up at him mockingly and he had to hold himself back from throwing it square on Hyunjin’s face. 

“C-o-w-a-r-d,” Hyunjin had the audacity to spell it out.

The gift unfortunately hit the desk with a soft thud, silk muffling the impact, though it should’ve been used to smack the knight. Jeongin begrudgingly turned and walked back to his work. He had entertained Hyunjin enough and he wasn’t going to do any of that any more.

Hyunjin grinned. There it was.

“Well then,” he said, smacking his palms together with cheerful finality. “Glad we sorted that out.” He pivoted with a stretch, sniggering away. At least he had the decency to bow before he left the prince’s chamber. 

“Can’t wait to see how long you drag this out.”

Jeongin didn’t say a word, but Hyunjin could feel the heat of his glare boring into the back of his skull like sunlight through a lens. Oh yes, this was infinitely more satisfying than sword drills or standing outside cold hallways. Playing cupid, it turned out, gave a better rush than being a knight ever had. Maybe he’d make it his new job.

Earlier that morning, you were in the middle of a briefing with the newest batch of apprentices when Seo Changbin, the Captain of the Royal Guard, visited you.

Today’s scheduled to be your meeting with the Commander of the Knight Division regarding the potential whereabouts of the knowledge that consisted of the antidote, the risk factors of acquiring it, and the preplanned preparations that may require. Changbin did not entertain you with small talks like he usually did whenever you saw him, and it only showed how dutifully he took the gravity of the situation of the prince. The walk to the commander’s quarter was brief and in silence.

Changbin was greeted by a pair of guards stationed outside the chamber. Their gazes shifted to you with a flicker of acknowledgment before both dipped their heads respectfully. You returned the gesture, your hands instinctively folding in front of you. Changbin pushed the doors open without waiting for permission. You followed him in.

The moment you did, you felt a shiver crawl up your spine as you met the commander’s eyes. Other than the king and queen, there was no one in the entire kingdom who made you more aware of yourself and terrified shitless other than him.

Bang Chan.

Chan stood at the far end of the table, hands braced on either side of a wide map, its parchment worn at the edges from constant handling. He gave you a curt nod accompanied by a small smile that actually eased your initial nerves. Changbin did not enter, however, and closed the door behind you.

"Head Pharmacist," he greeted. "Right on time."

You returned the gesture, crossing the room with your scroll in hand. "Commander. Thank you for receiving me."

As you approached, Chan straightened, his hand dropping from the map to rest briefly on the hilt of his sword before he moved to one side of the table. He gestured toward the open space beside him, clearing a few metal pins used to weigh down the edges.

"We scheduled this for a reason. Let’s hear it."

You stepped into the space beside him, unrolling the scroll across a section of the map that traced the southern borders. It was lined with fragmented text, translated glyphs, and sketches you had copied over the last few days. "There’s a possibility of a lead buried in an old record I stumbled across—one that traces back to the ancient library of Astellin, near the heart of the Atharian kingdom."

Chan’s brow ticked. His hand reached for one of the pins, berthing the scroll before glancing at the markings. "That’s Atharian territory’s protected archives. You’re suggesting we dig through their historical vaults?"

You nodded, eyes still on the scroll. "The original texts that hint at the composition of the antidote were last mentioned in a border transfer led by Atharian scholars nearly two decades ago. There’s a high chance that the remnants were archived there. If we want answers, that library might be our only path."

He leaned over slightly, eyes narrowing at the border routes drawn on the map beneath. His fingers tapped the edge once. "The route is unstable. Their border checks have grown stricter, and we don’t know where their allegiance shifts in moments like these." He straightened again and moved to the shelves along the wall, pulling out a separate ledger of transit records. "Astellin. That’s not a simple journey."

You were very much aware of the setbacks. The region’s still recovering from the last trade collapse. All kinds of movement are monitored closely.

“Should anyone suspect why I’m there, it could draw attention to the palace’s internal state,” you stated the obvious, careful to keep your tone neutral. 

Chan set the ledger down with a dull thud, flipping through several pages. "That can be solved. We have allies there, do we not?"

You nodded. "A few. The Astellin Guild of Apothecaries still corresponds with us occasionally. If you permit it, I can send a letter requesting permission for a scholarly visit. They’re not likely to refuse, especially if I frame it as research."

The Atharian kingdom was no enemy. The current crown maintained a cordial relation with the Levanter kingdom but tensions among vindictive local traders and the unpredictable attitude of the townsfolk still left room for concern. An official permit would ease the passage but risk could never be erased entirely.

You could just hope things went well from here. Your connection with the Guild shouldn’t stand as a problem to the swift entry in the kingdom borders. But one question remained, were you to go alone?

It was as if he read your mind. "You’ll not travel alone. You cannot be harmed no matter what, since the kingdom’s fate rests on your hand,” he stated, eyes scanning both the map and your scroll. The soft rustle of paper filled the room as he once again opened the ledger and ambled towards the shelves.

At that you felt a small spark of pride. Which was soon overshadowed by dread because if words got out to the wrong ears that you were travelling to find a cure for the prince, they might come to deal with you first. In other words, you’re an easy target.

"If you allow it, I’d prefer to take minimal escort. Anything more would draw suspicion. But I trust you’ll know how to manage the security around it." Your reasoning was considered by the commander.

Chan closed the ledger, his jaw tense in thought. He walked slowly back toward the map, hands behind his back, scanning everything once more. "You’ve always known what you’re doing. I won’t question your judgment now. Send the letter. We’ll prepare the rest on our side."

You inclined your head. "Thank you, Commander."

“I’ll make sure you have the protection to get there and return with it."

It was all that needed to be said. And from him, it meant more than any oath.

The first thing you did after returning to your office was pull out your writing tools and scribble down the letter. Once it was finished, you folded the parchment, sealed it with wax, and had one of the messengers send it out for you, ushering him to hurry up. The journey has to be haste. You must leave as soon as you can because it has already been over a week since the blood test. Any more delay than this could lead to… unpleasant scenarios that you’d rather not think of.

The palace security had been increased significantly. Chan had moved fast after the orders were sent out. Troop rotations doubled, access routes monitored, the entire internal staff re-screened. Yet so far, no suspicious persons had been identified. Not one imposter was caught. No evidence of entry from the outside, no tampering with Jeongin’s food or water, no intercepted letters.

It should have comforted you. But instead, it gnawed at you like rot beneath a polished surface. Because if no one suspicious individual had come in, then the threat was already here. And that meant Jeongin was still in danger.

Your thoughts darkened. Who would dare do this? Was it personal? Political? Was it someone with old vendettas against the royal family, someone long thought buried by exile or death? Or perhaps someone who had worn a mask for years, blending in as an ally until the time was right. The possibilities opened before you like a series of locked doors, each more dangerous than the last. You could keep speculating, but your role was not to unearth conspiracies. That duty belonged to Chan.

On the other hand, Jeongin’s body hadn’t shown any signs of lethal deterioration yet. That was both a blessing and a curse. The toxin’s effect could have a long incubation period, or it could strike suddenly. You had seen poisons that mimicked benign symptoms until the final hour. You couldn’t afford to sit here and gamble on time. To sum it up, you have to hurry.

It was beginning to get a little suffocating in your office with every passing second from the sense of urgency that threatened to make you retch your guts out. You needed to step outside, if only to breathe in something other than herb and tension.

You didn’t tell anyone where you were going. The doors to the greenhouse garden opened with a gentle push, and instantly, the contrast was enough to uncoil the tightness within your chest.

The air here was fresh, touched with the sweetness of blooming jasmine and the darker, grounded scent of damp earth. Leaves rustled with each passing breeze, and the soft trickle of the central fountain played in the background like a melody. You wandered past the raised beds of herbs and flowering shrubs, your hand lifting occasionally to brush against rosemary stalks or to fix a leaf curling the wrong way.

The sun was still high, but it had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the roses swaying gently in the wind. Maybe if you take advantage of this good weather and wrap up your work by afternoon, you can go visit the town to buy the few things you still need. Your cloak would need repair before travel. A few fresh pouches for storage wouldn’t hurt either. And perhaps—

A rustle interrupted your thoughts. You paused, instinct kicking in before reason, and turned toward the sound. It came from just beyond the rose bushes, where the stone garden wall curved gently out of sight. You stepped forward, careful with your footing as you moved around the edge of the bushes only to see a pair of shoes. Your heart lurched when you realized whose shoes those were.

Tucked away behind a rose bush, hidden from the world’s eyes, sat Jeongin.

He looked as though he had been there for a while. His back was against the garden wall, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed lazily, his sword resting at his side. His eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly upward, soaking in the peace of the soft sunlight.

Seeing him from up close again without the formal distance of an audience chamber or a corridor passing stirred memories your body reacted to before your mind had the chance to catch up. Your gaze dropped to his mouth involuntarily, drawn by instinct rather than thought, and the realization hit you so sharply that you jerked back. A gasp nearly escaped before you caught it, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

In that small moment of disorientation, your foot landed wrong, the edge of your heel pressing down on a dry branch nestled beneath layers of moss and soil. The brittle snap cracked through the greenhouse piercing the still air, and Jeongin's eyes flew open. Instantly, both of you froze.

The pulse in your ears surged to a roar, a thudding drumbeat that seemed far too loud to contain within your chest. Jeongin stared at you with a dazed sort of urgency, the barest tremble in his pupils betraying whatever fragile state he’d been in moments before. He was repeatedly blinking his somewhat widened eyes at you as though his vision needed recalibrating to truly see you. His lips parted, but no words followed.

You opened your mouth too, unsure of what you’d even say but then in the blink of an eye he shot to his feet and swiveled around.

You stared for half a second, incredulous. Wait. Was he seriously going to run? The sheer panic in his retreat was almost comical. "Oh no you don’t," you muttered, your instincts taking over.

Before he could bolt through the archway in the hedge, your hand snapped out, fingers locking around his wrist in one swift desperate motion. “Where are you going?” your question went unanswered by the boy. 

He jerked slightly as if he hadn’t expected you to stop him, and then his shoulders gave a slight dip. You were ready to press him more about his sudden retreat attempt, but your entire mind came to a static halt when his balance faltered.

Huh? 

You stepped in, catching his arm with your other hand just before his knees could fully buckle. His center of gravity tilted at the wrong moment. Jeongin’s hunched over your arms, and you felt the brief contact of his palm against your shoulder, the tension in his arm as he tried to pull himself back into composure but his muscles weren’t cooperating. His skin was warmer than it should be.

“Stay still for a while,” you muttered. The edge of command tempered by concern. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

The blood must have rushed to his head, and combined with the toll of poison still working through his system, it was no wonder his steps staggered. To your surprise, he didn’t protest or try to push himself free. You carefully guided him down, crouching to ease him back onto the path where moss curled along the edges of stone. His limbs were slow to follow but compliant, the coordination off just enough to remind you how vulnerable he still was.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed, crouched in front of him now, brushing his bangs back with one hand and placing the other flat over his forehead. He was burning up. 

God fucking dammit. Ever since you officially took upon the role of finding the cure, a part of your job that included Jeongin’s daily vital check up was handed over to the palace physician. It was done so that you could have a lesser workload and focus solely on the research. You’ll need to have a word with that physician because why the fuck was his temperature not under control?

Jeongin made a vague sound of protest, but his voice didn’t carry. You noticed how his eyes darted briefly to your hand still on his arm before flicking away, gaze unfocused and almost sheepish. His eyes travelled anywhere but your face, and his ears were rapidly turning red that was beginning to creep down his neck.

“Were you trying to run away from me just now?” you asked, resting your forearms against your knees to stay level with his eye line, though he continued to look anywhere else—your shoes, the gravel, the bushes behind you. So you gently cupped his jaw, forcing the eye contact that he’d been running away from. 

It was almost fascinating to see how his face combusted into a shade of red from a single touch. His entire posture tensed as though trying very hard not to bolt again. A touch so innocent and yet, this man, the same one who ravished you as if he was on some heady elixir, now threatening to fall apart under your touch. He was so… maddingly cute, and it was killing you.

He coughed lightly, the sound muffled as he turned his face away and brought a hand up between you. “No.” 

“Yes, you were.”

“No—I mean—I was trying to…”

You lifted your brows in invitation, your thumb still resting near his jaw, the smile threatening to tug at the corners of your mouth betraying your own amusement. Okay, maybe, you were being a little devil for having fun seeing him in this flustered state. It felt like you were falling in love with him all over again.

A small sound of mortification escaped him as he dropped his head lower, practically curling inward. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he mumbled, his voice nearly swallowed by the space between you.

You exhaled a short laugh and reached up to adjust the fabric of his collar, checking his pulse beneath the jawline with your thumb. It was more stable now. You kept your hand there a moment longer, then brushed a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. There was a small, fond smile playing on your lips that you didn’t bother to hide.

Yeah. You were definitely falling in love with him all over again.

"Your Highness," you said, the title softened by the way it left your lips. "If you keep running off like this, how will I ever manage to tell you that I love you?"

He slowly lifted his head up. Jeongin’s body sank back against the wall. His eyes widened just enough for the shimmer in them to catch the light. He was visibly fighting against the rawness of whatever emotion had cracked open between you. But this time, he didn’t shy away.

His hand came up, fingers brushing over yours where it still rested against his face, before he curled them around your hand. "Dove," he said under his breath, those intense eyes had softened with such overflowing tenderness that they nearly knocked you off your orbit, "you’re killing me."

He just turned his face slightly, leaned into your palm like he had no idea how else to respond, and pressed a warm, featherlight kiss to the center of it. You couldn't deny the way your chest warmed at the gesture. His lips lingered at the skin of your palm, and though his head remained bowed, his gaze flicked upward from the corner of his eye to watch you. He saw the way the dusty pink of your cheeks mirrored his, the way you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling brightly like a fool, and his thumb moved slightly against the back of your hand like he was memorizing the shape of it.

You tried to gather yourself but what came out was a snort. "Pretty sure I’m doing the exact opposite for you."

He laughed heartily. It filled the small space between you with something far more alive than the dark cloud of uncertainty that was looming over his health. He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it, then another to your knuckles, reverent in the way he held you. 

No one visited the greenhouse at this hour. Even if anyone did, and they caught you in this act of tenderness, you wouldn’t mind at all.

“There’s something I wanted to give you.” You tilted your head at his words. Jeongin shifted slightly so there was room for you beside him, patting the stone with a boyish smile. “Will you sit with me?”

You shuffled closer, folding your skirt with care before lowering yourself onto the cool stone at his side. Whatever jittery nervousness had chased you both through the moments leading up to this moment seemed to fall away the instant your shoulders aligned. You basked in each other’s presence, as if no part of you remembered what it felt like to be apart.

The two of you were never meant to run from each other but to each other, always, like this.

Jeongin reached into his coat and pulled out a long box wrapped in deep blue silk. You curiously leaned slightly to get a better look, then glanced at him. For a moment, he only stared at it.

Then, instead of handing it to you, he set it down gently between you on the stone, like he was giving you the choice to take it or leave it. It was almost ridiculous, how your chest fluttered at the sight. The bashful softness of the gesture, the lack of pressure—it was cute. So very him. You didn’t know how your heart could take any more of this.

Your fingertips brushed the silk first, feeling the fine texture before you even began to unwrap it. You admired the colour of it as it was one of your favorites. That detail alone made your lips curve. “Receiving a gift from Your Highness,” you said, voice laced with playful charm as your gaze flicked up to his, “oh, aren't I truly blessed?”

You opened the wrapping with care, folding the cloth into neat sections and placing it across your lap as though it were precious in itself. Jeongin watched, his eyes fond. He liked the way you treated things—not just objects, but people, memories, even moments with gentleness. Like everything deserved to be handled with care. 

It was no wonder the people of the kingdom loved you.

“I went to the city a few days ago.”

You remembered. The maids had gossiped about it in the halls, whispering about the prince’s brief visit. It was around the time you and Minho were preparing the concoction.

“It reminded me of you,” he added.

When you lifted the lid of the box, all at once your world slowed. Nestled inside was a bolo tie, unlike any you’d seen before. Its centerpiece was a plum blossom, delicate in shape and crafted in a soft metallic gold with subtly curved petals that lend it a lifelike charm. Slender golden cords extended from it, long enough to trail down the chest in a graceful line, ending in small teardrop-shaped tips. 

You gasped softly, unable to contain your awe. It was one of the prettiest bolo ties you’ve ever seen.

“The night we met as kids,” Jeongin’s fingers found their way to your hair, combing through the strands in a gesture so sweet it made you meet his eyes without hesitation. His voice was warm. “Do you remember, the plum blossoms were in full bloom?”

You did remember it vividly. The thought that he, who had grown into a prince with the burdens of a crown, still held onto that fleeting image from so long ago, had taken that memory and turned it into a gift—it overwhelmed you. You looked back at the piece, your hand brushing over the flower, your finger tracing the edge of the petals with care.

"It’s beautiful," you murmured, voice unsteady in the wake of too many emotions. The truth was, it was more than beautiful. It was thoughtful. It was him.

And it was yours.

Jeongin shifted beside you, the fabric of his coat brushing against your sleeve as he took the box from you. His fingers closed around the tie and he held it up between you, the plum blossom catching a glint of sunlight through the leaves above.

"May I help you put it on?"

You nodded, already turning with your hands gathering your hair and lifting it from your neck. Behind you, Jeongin rose to his knees on the stone, one hand brushing past your shoulder as he reached around to fasten the tie. You felt the gentleness in his actions as he clasped the cords around the collar of your shirt, making you wonder how much reverence he shows even in doing simple things.

He adjusted the tie gently, his knuckles grazing your back when he smoothed the collar over it. When he sat back, you turned, brushing your hair back into place. Your hands skimmed over the front of your uniform, fingers pausing at the tie now resting against the white fabric. It stood out beautifully—the gold catching against the clean lines of your collar, the cords draping down elegantly.

You looked up at him, eyes bright, lips curving into a smile so full of warmth it seemed to light your face from within. "Thank you."

Jeongin mirrored your smile, eyes dropping to the tie as if to make sure it sat just right. "Do you have time to stay a little longer?"

The question made you pause. You glanced at the horizon behind him, where the sky had begun to shift its colour. You'd nearly forgotten that there were still tasks ahead of you, preparations you were supposed to take. Ah, what a shame. This lovely afternoon could’ve been spent with him but you had your duties.

Duties that cradled the fate of the boy you loved.

You shook your head slightly. "I need to go into the city before evening. I want to prepare in advance for the journey."

“Journey?” He straightened at that, expression still relaxed, though you didn’t miss the flicker of confusion in his eyes. It seemed like the prince wasn’t aware of the decisions taken by the commander and you this morning. You reached for the folded silk on your lap, smoothing it flat again before tucking it into your pocket, giving yourself something to do with your hands.

“Oh, umm, I will be travelling to Atharian.” You kept your voice even, glancing back at him before turning slightly so he could hear you better. You tell him about the leads you’ve gathered on the antidote, and the meeting with Chan.

The letter to the other kingdom would arrive at dawn. That much you knew. And though no formal reply had returned yet, something inside you told you they wouldn’t hesitate in granting the request. You assured him about the safety measures that will be taken by Chan.

You rose from the stone, dusting your hands on the sides of your skirt before meeting his gaze again, hands clasped behind your back. Jeongin sighed softly. He took a moment longer before standing as well, his fingers sweeping over the sides of his coat and brushing at the fabric near his waist.

You assumed he would fall into step beside you so you began to walk ahead, letting your pace carry you along the worn path. The soft crunch of leaves beneath your shoes was the only sound for a second before you heard him speak, "I'll go with you."

You halted mid-step, your entire frame tensing before you twisted around, eyes wide and brows lifted comically high in disbelief. "What?!" you yelped, your voice pitching as your arms moved slightly forward, as if to stop the very idea from taking shape. You gaped at him. "Your Highness, for god’s sake—please don’t fool around like that. You know you’re the target of a potential assassination and you cannot, under any circumstances, be travelling! Even with security—"

Jeongin stepped forward before your words could build further and reached out, his palm resting on your head as he, oh so familiarly, ruffled your hair. Tilting his head to the side, he exhaled with a tone that sounded far too fond for the chaos he’d just stirred. "I meant I was going to accompany you to the city."

You blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh," you said, flatly, the word devoid of anything except stunned resignation. You let your hands drop to your sides and then crossed your arms. "You should’ve said that instead—" 

Then your brain caught up, making your face twist. "Wait, no, what the hell—that’s even worse. How will you go to the city with me without an official arrangement? My point still stands! Even with security it’s too risky,” you repeated.

Jeongin hummed a cheery tune and took three unhurried steps ahead of you, hands in his coat pockets, as if your distress was no more than a passing breeze. Your brows pulled together further, jaw tightening as you picked up your pace, catching up to him. Sometimes this man made you think if he had no sense of danger at all. Except, you knew how capable of a fighter he is, but you still couldn’t help but worry.

He glanced back with that maddening fox-like grin. His eyes locked on yours, bright and far too satisfied. You couldn’t help but flash a helpless smile back at him because you knew he’d made up his mind.

"I have my ways, dove."

Jeongin’s idea of having "his ways" came to fruition in the form of him standing smack in the middle of your office dressed in what he proudly declared to be a knight’s disguise (his words, not yours) with Felix in tow. 

Your gaze shifted from Jeongin’s absurdly confident posture to Felix who did nothing more than stand dutifully by the door. Your lips pulled into a grimace before you could help it. Considering this man had, until recently, been tailing you under the queen’s direct orders, you figured a little bit of discomfort was warranted which only ten-folded when he flashed you his angelic charming smile. 

It made your skin crawl in an eerie manner as that utterly disarming grin contrasted jarringly with the knowledge that he could snap a neck with the same grace he laced his boots. You managed a crooked, vaguely diplomatic smile in return, and quickly turned your attention to the larger problem in the room.

"This is ridiculous," you said dryly, not even bothering to sugarcoat.

Jeongin twirled around, the black cape of the knight uniform catching air. "It’s perfectly gullible," he said cheerfully, as if you were the unreasonable one.

Your hand twitched at your side, resisting the urge to drag it down your face.

Jeongin, apparently very pleased with himself, stepped over to your window and looked at his reflection in the glass pane, adjusting the lower part of the scarf that covered his face up to just under the eyes. He turned slightly, examining the way the shoulder pads sat, even dusting off a few specks of nonexistent lint. He faced you again with a satisfied nod. "No one will recognize me like this."

"For sure, Your Highness," you muttered, gesturing vaguely at the way he carried himself—too upright and obviously royal. “Imagine the scandal you’ll cause once they realize who you are.”

"That’s why I brought Felix."

Your gaze shifted back to the spy albeit this time, it was intentional. Felix regarded you with the same smile. You raised your eyebrows at him pointedly. Are you serious about this? Your expression asked without needing words.

Felix met your look with all the serenity of a monk who had seen far too much (he, in fact, did). His expression didn’t change but there was a slight tilt of his head which was imperceptible to most, paired with a subtle exhale that felt like a wordless sigh. I only follow orders, it said. Nevertheless, his eyes added with unbothered frankness, Though I must admit this is quite dumb.

Alright, good to know you both were on the same page. You think you like Felix again. Perhaps you could forgive him for stalking you across palace grounds and peeking through your laboratory windows. Maybe you’ll give him back your friendship card!

Jeongin, unaware or perhaps entirely aware of the exchange happening across the room, strode toward your desk, plucked a small glass vial off one corner and examined it with the intense scrutiny of someone who definitely didn’t know what he was looking at. "We’re leaving in an hour, yes?"

You didn’t think it was possible to leave the palace grounds without raising alarms, not with how tight security had been since Jeongin’s life was placed under a target’s mark. But it appeared that having Felix by your side smoothed the path in ways you hadn’t expected. Every time you passed a stationed guard, their gazes lowered in synchronized deference, hands pressed to their chest in a formal bow as they stepped aside to let you and your companions through. None questioned the knight at your side. None paused to scrutinize his posture or ask why he walked just a step too closely. It helped that Felix led the way, his presence was enough to dispel suspicion.

Once beyond the gates and into the vast stretch of the open road, Jeongin bumped your arm with the curve of his elbow, and though only his eyes were visible beneath the helmet and scarf that concealed the rest of his face, the glint in them was unmistakably smug. You turned toward him just in time to catch the tilt of his brow, the slight narrowing of his gaze, the wordless but wholly arrogant expression of triumph.

Told you!

You huffed a small laugh as your gaze trailed off to the treeline that bordered the main path. The sun had dipped lower since you last looked, the sky now painted in shades of copper and garnet. Darkness was arriving and with it came the promise of cover; Jeongin’s disguise would hold better once night fell fully. Still, a tight knot of worry curled low in your chest, pressing against your ribs with growing insistence that his sudden disappearance from the palace wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. You only hoped he’d thought far enough ahead to prepare some sort of excuse, a cover that wouldn’t spiral into panic or diplomatic disaster.

“Don’t worry.” Felix’s deep voice beside you startled you out of your thoughts. He walked up beside you, one gloved hand gripping the reins of a dark-coated horse. Was your face really that readable? Or could this freaky man read minds too? 

Your eyes narrowed at him. He only smiled faintly at your reaction, as though the very act of startling you had been intentional. "Her Majesty is aware of this arrangement," he continued, lifting the reins slightly in his hand. "She’ll take care of it."

You were baffled to say the least. The queen allowed her son to sneak away like this? 

Felix adjusted the saddle strap on the horse, his other hand still resting lightly against the creature’s neck. "She thinks he ought to have some freedom," he said, gaze lifting once again—not to you, but past you. "And she believes he deserves to breathe easier for a day."

You followed his eyes, your attention drawing naturally to the figure a few paces ahead. Jeongin had stepped slightly off the road, standing at the edge of the path as he surveyed the distance ahead. His hands rested behind his back, posture oddly formal despite the disguise, and for a moment he looked… removed from the pressure he usually carried. There was a bounce to his step that hadn’t been there in weeks. Just a figure in a homely travel cloak, the breeze shifting the ends of his scarf.

It’s like the old saying goes; mens sana in corpore sano, meaning, a sound mind in a sound body. Perhaps this outing, however poorly constructed in theory, might serve its purpose. If he came back with a clearer head or the faintest lift in his spirit, it would be worth it. He had been through enough already these days.

“Felix,” you calmly said, gaze never once leaving Jeongin’s figure in the distance. “Make sure you protect the prince at all cost.”

He looked mildly amused by your order. With a small smirk and closed eyes, he dipped his head slightly. “Of course, miss. I’m happy to follow orders.”

With silent steps, he moved ahead to finish readying the horses.

You watched him go, then turned back to Jeongin, whose scarf had started to slip slightly. He reached up to adjust it again, then turned back to catch you staring. He let the scarf slip from his face entirely, revealing a smile that hit you with all the softness of spring after frost.

He deserved to smile like that. It didn’t belong to the people or the palace—it belonged to him. And it was worth protecting.

By the time you reached the city, the sky had overcast. 

You tilted your head upward, watching the clouds swirl thick and sullen overhead. The sun was long gone behind them and a gust of wind brushed past your cheeks, carrying with it the promise of rain. 

You let out a breath. If it rained, then the trip would be cut short. And that would be—no, there was no better word for it—disappointing. You could endure the downpour just fine, and would even welcome it. But Jeongin... your gaze shifted to him. It was him you worried about.

The three of you reached the city's stable just as a few stray droplets began to fall. Felix handed his mount to a stable boy without a word and disappeared into the blur of passersby before you could so much as call his name. On standby, no doubt. That left you with Jeongin alone.

He stood beside you now, scarf still wrapped around his lower face though the wind had tugged at its ends. He had his hood up. You watched as his eyes scanned the street ahead with the aching tenderness of someone trying to understand.

Jeongin slowly moved toward the open square, and you walked beside him, only a step behind, watching as his gaze took in the street vendors crouched beside fruit crates, the tired mothers herding children across puddled stone paths, the old man bent over fixing the wheel of a cart with tools far too rusted for the job. Shopkeepers greeted regulars with quiet nods, and the scent of rising bread and fruits drifted faintly from open windows.

The people here lived modestly, not poorly—never poorly. The roads were clean, lined with lanterns not yet lit, and though the buildings were modest, they were kept upright, each storefront tended with care. They had roofs over their heads, food on their tables, and warmth in the presence of one another. Still, Jeongin studied as if he saw more. He didn’t see faults, but possibilities and the room to do better.

And you could tell, in the way he breathed in this world—not removed from it, but trying to fit into its pattern, that he carried unwavering affection for these people; for his people. It was a love that asked nothing in return, a kind of devotion that came from wanting them to have more, simply because he believed they deserved it. His visits here were usually marked by obligation and escorted by officials, hardly ever getting the chance to talk to the people with the personal attention he wanted to give. But like this, in plain clothes and simpler boots, in a disguise, he had space to look deeper.

He looked at them as though he was trying to walk through the pages of their lives, each step taking in not just what was seen, but what was felt in their hardship, their perseverance, and their happiness.

He turned to you at some point, brown eyes still roaming the street as he spoke. “They’ve patched that roof three times this year,” he gestured toward a building with tarps weighed down by stones. “It still leaks when it storms.”

You followed his gaze. "You remember that?"

“I try to,” he replied. Then his gaze landed on a woman stacking clay pots at the corner of her home, sleeves rolled up, fingers chapped from work. “I never get to talk to them. Royal visits are all timing and ceremony. No one speaks the truth when you’re flanked by guards.”

You watched Jeongin with a faint exhale, the warmth of it rising and vanishing in the cooling air. Jeongin’s devotion to always think about the betterment of his people was perhaps also blinding him from the fact that he was already doing more than most rulers ever did. His people were not suffering, nor abandoned, nor left to fend for themselves. They were already pleased with everything he was doing. 

But all Jeongin could see were the gaps. The broken edges of a crate, a pothole along the main road, a cracked basin by a drinking well. It didn’t take long for you to notice how he failed to acknowledge what was thriving, always letting his good works fall into the shadows of what still needed doing as if they weren’t worth remembering. Tut, tut, that wouldn’t do.

“Your highness, come with me,” you said under your breath, brushing his gloved hand with your fingers briefly before stepping toward a fruit stall sheltered beneath a patchwork of canvas and rope. The elderly man was arranging fresh pears in careful rows behind it. 

“Good evening, mister Han.”

He looked up at the sound of your boots, squinting through the drizzle-spattered air. Then his eyes lit up, crinkling with a genuine fondness that could only be born from familiarity and gratitude.

“Ah, miss head pharmacist,” he said, voice gravelled with age. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

“A little lately,” you smiled, reaching for a few apples, “But never too busy to check in on my favorite fruit seller. How’s your granddaughter? Is the medicine I sent last week helping?”

“Like a miracle, I tell you,” he chuckled, leaning his elbows on the wooden counter. “That cough had her waking up in tears. Now, she’s been running circles around her mother again.” 

His eyes darted over your shoulder, landing on Jeongin. “And who’s this fellow with you? Looks strong. New knight?”

Jeongin stood behind you, hood casting a shadow across his scarf-covered face. He remained silent. Your fingers curled around his arm and tugged him forward. Tilting your head with a merry smile, you chirped, “Just someone helping carry the bags.”

You had to contain in a laugh when you felt the prince stiffen under your touch. He gave the older man a respectful bow, making him nod delightfully and caress his beard.

“How’s the business, mister Han?” You tilted your head meaningfully toward the crowd passing through the square.

“Couldn’t be better,” the man replied, beaming. “Traffic’s been strong since the southern road repairs. And we’re finally getting a good price at the market. Word is, the Crown’s efforts kept the tariffs low this season.”

“Ah, I see,” you said, tone light. You glanced at Jeongin, whose eyes flickered briefly toward the man, surprise brushing his features.

“Well, send my regards to your wife, Mister Han.”

The elderly man turned back to you, the smile on his face softening. “The missus still talks about that ointment you gave her last fall. Says her knees haven’t ached since. You always come when people need you most. Bless your heart.”

“Just doing my job.” You waved off the thanks with a gentle laugh. “Keep warm, mister Han. I’ll drop by again soon.”

With that promise, you continued down the path, Jeongin quietly falling into step beside you. He hadn’t said a word, but you could feel his thoughts turning. This is exactly what you wanted. You needed him to realize his people are happy because of him. You weaved through the marketplace with him, stopping next at a small stand of dried herbs and pressed powders.

A younger woman looked up from arranging labels and let out a surprised gasp. “Chief!” she squealed, practically beaming. “I didn’t know you were visiting today!”

“Not officially,” you said, glancing at the rows. “But I thought I’d check on you, Seena. How’s the business?”

“Oh, thriving! Thanks to your guidance, I started mixing that barley root tonic you suggested—it’s flying off the shelves!” Her pride was evident in the way she stood straighter with chest puffed and hands on hips. “Even the mayor asked for a jar last week.”

You nodded approvingly. “Told you it had potential. And your labelling’s improved. Any orders today?”

“Plenty! The demand’s high lately. Ever since the prince ordered the new trade permits, we’ve been sending our work across the river to Meras. It’s been a blessing.”

Jeongin’s eyes moved between the jars and the young woman’s animated face. Seena turned to him with a polite nod. “Is he one of the newer knights?” Her sudden attention made him stiff once again. Seena didn’t notice it though and continued speaking, “You’re in good hands, then. There’s no one in this kingdom more dependable than our head pharmacist. She even pulled my little brother out of fever two winters ago.”

Her words fell into the soft rhythm of the rain. Jeongin quietly took in you and the way you smiled back at the girl. With a few more words exchanged, you set off again.

Next, you approached a butcher’s stall under a faded red awning. The scent of smoked meat lingered in the petrichor air, and a woman stood behind the counter sharpening her knives on a whetstone.

“Morning, Jisu,” you greeted.

She startled, then broke into a wide grin. “You! You never come down this way without sending someone else to shop. What’s the occasion?”

“A little trip,” you said, opening your arms to embrace her giddily. “I wanted to see the city again for myself.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here. And if I might say—last month’s tonic did wonders for my husband. His lungs haven’t rattled once since. I don’t know what you mixed into that brew, but it worked better than anything we’ve had in years. He even managed the climb up to the north field yesterday.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said, touching her arm gently. “I remember how tired you looked when you first came to the infirmary. I had to make sure he got better—for your sake.”

She gave a huff of laughter and nudged your shoulder. “You’re far too good to us. The palace is lucky to have you.”

“Your stall seems fuller than usual today.” You glanced around at the neat racks.

“That’s thanks to the new storage cellars,” Jisu said, handing you a small sack of dried roots you’d asked for. “We lost so much meat last summer, but now with the prince’s plan to build them beneath the ridge, we’ve saved nearly a third of our stock. Can’t thank him enough.”

As she spoke, her eyes wandered past your shoulder to Jeongin, who stood just a step behind you, trying to look inconspicuous in his knight’s gear. Jisu squinted at him, then nudged your elbow with a grin tugging at her lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve found an apprentice.”

“Hardly,” you replied, your tone feigning indifference as your eyes flicked toward him. “But he’s here to learn a few things. He’s a promising knight.”

Jisu gave Jeongin a once-over with a raised brow and a small hum. “You keeping her safe, knight?”

Jeongin, momentarily caught off guard, took a heartbeat longer to respond. But when he did, he stepped forward with one hand flat over his chest, just above the embroidered crest sewn into the borrowed uniform—above his heart—and dipped his head.

“With my life,” he said, not as a declaration but as a vow.

The words carried more than promise. It was the purest version of the truth living in his chest—that if it ever came down to it, between his heart and your breath, he would always choose yours.

The three words, spoken in that tone, with that reverence, didn’t simply graze your skin—they settled into your bones, ran like fire through your veins, made your pulse race and every muscle freeze in place for the smallest flicker of time. It felt like every part of him was reaching for every part of you.

With my life. It translated too easily in your mind. I love you.

That’s what he meant. That’s what it was. You didn’t need him to say it in any other form, not when those words held everything. And for a fraction of a second, the world around you dulled, as though your body and your heart had leapt into another realm where only those three syllables mattered.

Your fingers twitched faintly at your side, and you blinked, dragging your attention back to Jisu with effort. You thanked her for the roots, asked about the upcoming seasonal shipment, slipped in a comment about how Jeongin—this knight—was curious about how trade routes were maintained through winter. And she, bless her, jumped back in with stories and charts and complaints about the main road’s incline. You answered, nodded, laughed in all the right places.

But somewhere inside, those three words stayed with you. As if every atom of your body had remembered them before your mind even had the chance.

While thoughts of him consumed your mind, thoughts of you consumed him shamelessly too. You had brought him around with the purpose to let him see with his own eyes the fruits of his labor, the improvements shaped by his hands though often carried out in his absence. But all Jeongin focused on was how the people looked at you.

Their faces transformed in your presence. They thanked you not just for your duties, but for the comfort and protection, for always showing up when they needed you. They didn’t merely bow or acknowledge you out of obligation; they welcomed you with their whole hearts, called your name like it held warmth in the middle of a long winter. Vendors offered you more than they sold. Children reached for your hand and smiled at you. Elders greeted you like kin. 

You made the distance between the palace and people smaller.

He could tell, without needing to ask, how deeply you were rooted in their lives, how much effort you put into being present not just as the kingdom’s head pharmacist but as a person they trusted. You had memorized their ailments, you put in the effort to remember their names, and the preferred herbs of every family. It wasn’t just duty for you—it was care.

And it overwhelmed him in the best way. If the people loved you like this—if they greeted you as one of their own, if they smiled without reservation, if your name passed through the streets like a blessing, then perhaps—Jeongin’s thoughts came to a slow halt, his eyes looking at your face as you smiled down at a child.

…then perhaps they would not mind having you as their future queen.

That wild unspoken hope settled deep in his chest with an ache that refused to be quieted. It made his hands itch with the desire to reach for yours in broad daylight. It made him imagine a world where his people would never have to choose between their loyalty to the crown and their affection for you. In that moment, he no longer saw you only as the woman he loved silently. You were more than an ally, more than a confidante, more than a friend. You were the person he wanted beside him through every decision, every triumph, every impossible day. He wanted you not in a title, but in every reality to walk beside him, to carry the weight of the crown with him, to rule the people not from above, but from within.

If there was anyone who deserved the love of this kingdom and the trust to guide its future, it was you.

After an hour of teasing and the occasional low grumble of thunder, the sky finally gave in. It didn’t take long for the rain to come pouring down in sheets, wind tugging at your cloak and sending market stalls into a mild frenzy. Fortunately, you had managed to finish your shopping by then, your satchel heavier with travel essentials, medicinal herbs, and Jeongin’s admittedly unnecessary second pouch of candied apricots. He was still chewing on them when the rain began to soak through his hood.

You had continued to wander long after the purchases were done, pulling him from one shop to another without a destination in mind, just so he could feel what it was like to be untethered. You watched him grow curious over clay trinkets and laugh when an elderly woman tried to haggle with you despite having already given you a discount. He paused in front of a stall selling old folktale scrolls and leaned in to read them, his eyes lighting up like a child’s. You even caught him smiling at nothing as he walked, the creases around his eyes soft, the usual heaviness in his steps gone for the first time in days.

It was sweet, almost unbearably so, to see a prince so entranced by mundanity. But when you turned to comment on it, you caught him inhaling an entire slice of honey cake in one bite, and any sentiment you were about to voice dissolved into an incredulous, choked laugh.

What wasn’t sweet, however, was the fact that the sky had now turned violent.

The wind picked up and with a hiss between your teeth, you reached instinctively for Jeongin. You had no idea what exposure like this could do to someone already afflicted by a root that drained their vitality by the hour. The last thing he needed was to catch a cold that might spiral into something worse.

Blinking the rain from your eye you stepped closer, reaching up to adjust his hood and tuck it securely around his head. But you stopped short when you saw him.

His face was tipped toward the sky, lips parted just slightly, raindrops catching on his lashes and sliding down his cheeks like silver streaks. Hood nearly slipping off, his dark hair clung damply to his forehead. The scarf had been pushed down to his chin, revealing the full line of his mouth, the rise and fall of his breath. For a moment he looked so serene that it made you forget what you were doing.

Your hands hovered near his shoulder. You were mesmerised, but couldn't stay so much longer; ever aware of the risk, you forced yourself to snap back to action, gaze darting to the surrounding streets. Thankfully, it was a more secluded area of the market. The locals had already retreated into their homes or shops, windows shuttered, stalls packed down in haste. There was no one left to notice the royal prince standing in the open.

“You ought to catch a cold like this.” You didn’t know why your voice softened, but it felt almost illegal to ruin the peace that surrounded him. Your fingers clumsily found the edge of his hood and pulled it over his head again. 

Jeongin blinked, turning to you slowly, like surfacing from somewhere far away. “I didn’t want to miss it,” he replied.

“Miss the rain?” you asked, tugging on the edge of his cloak to make sure it covered his back properly. “You see it all the time through the palace windows.”

“But I never feel it,” he said, pushing the scarf further down with one hand, then taking a breath so full it seemed to expand through his entire chest. “It feels so nice.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, brushing wet hair out of your face as a gust of wind sent droplets flying from the rooftops. “You sound like someone who’s just been reborn.”

It wasn’t like he was discovering rain for the first time. He had been placed under the open skies plenty of times when he had to travel for diplomatic missions and royal visits to neighbouring kingdoms. But those had been different and always rushed. Right now, he had the liberty to simply enjoy the rain without a worry in the world and just be.

He chuckled, not looking at you just yet, but when he finally did look your way, there was a different kind of gentleness in his expression that hadn’t been there earlier.

"Maybe I have, a little," he whispered. Jeongin’s dimples greeted you as he smiled warmly.

You adjusted the satchel’s strap over your shoulder, trying to keep the fabric dry under the awning. Jeongin stepped in before you could shift it into a more comfortable position, his hand brushing yours as he took the satchel without a word as he slung it over his own shoulder. The gesture brought his face closer, and for a heartbeat, you caught the scent of chestnut and apricots.

Your gaze flicked away, scanning the alley again just to be sure you were still alone. Doors had been closed and curtains drawn. The storm gave you a world just for two.

Then, a spontaneous impulse seized you. You tilted your hand upward and let the rain collect in your palm, skin prickling from the cold. Jeongin watched you, his brows drawing slightly together, curiosity etched in the lines of his expression.

You stepped toward him with barely a beat of hesitation and splashed the pooled water across his cheek, dragging your hand in a light sweep. It wasn’t elegant. You smudged a bit of dirt too.

He flinched at the sensation, blinking hard. "Was that necessary?"

You grinned wider. "Absolutely."

A single drop of water clung to his jaw. He reached up slowly, not to wipe it, but to flick a spray of rainwater from his fingers straight at your forehead. It hit with a cold splatter, and you yelped, stumbling back with a half-laugh that broke into something louder.

His mouth curved, his brows lifted just a bit, and then he launched another flick of water in your direction. You retaliated, not with words but with movement. You darted to the side and scooped a handful of rain dropping from the awning, throwing it across his arm before turning to dash away. He gave chase without thinking, boots splashing through shallow puddles.

Before either of you realized it, you were both dashing through the puddles forming in the cobbled alley, slipping a little on the wet stone, laughing like fools as you swiped rain at each other, dripping wet and breathless.

Your feet skidded as you turned the corner of the alley. He followed, catching up for a second only to lose ground when you flung water toward him again with a victorious shout.

Your hair clung to your temples, his scarf was askew, and the clothes you wore had long since stopped protecting you from the cold. You darted between crates and barrels, breath catching in your chest, lungs aching with laughter, heart kicking wildly.

He turned a moment later and caught you mid-swipe, his hand briefly locking around your wrist before you both broke apart again, doubled over from the effort of running and the kind of laughter that hurt the stomach.

Jeongin, breathing hard and laughing, stepped back under the shallow eaves of a shuttered tailor shop, eyes still fixed on you. Your smile was wide and unguarded, your cheeks flushed, and your arms hung loose at your sides like you had no idea what to do with yourself next. For a second, you seemed to glow beneath the soft gray light and the curtain of rain.

And Jeongin, thought just one thing as the laughter bounced between the walls and nothing else demanded his attention:

I wanted us to laugh forever.

The narrow alleyway sat tucked between two buildings with no windows facing it, shrouding it in a kind of borrowed privacy. The world had receded completely in Jeongin’s mind, narrowed into the stretch of space between him and you, and then even that disappeared. You were speaking—he wasn’t sure what. Your hands swatted at the droplets still clinging to your sleeves, and laughter escaped you in breathy bursts, chest rising with each inhale. But all he could see was the way the rain shimmered against your skin, the way your mouth curved mid-sentence, and your gaze flicked toward him then away.

The distance vanished in a single step. His hands cradled your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheek where raindrops clung like dew. Damp strands slipping between his fingers as he pulled you in, lips crashing into yours. The cold of the storm dissolved into the feverish warmth between your mouths. You tasted rain and the ghost of honey cream, felt the tremor in his breath when you tilted your head, felt your spine press against the rough stone wall behind you when he stepped in even closer.

It wasn’t your first kiss with him and yet for a second, it felt like it was. Nothing existed except the feel of his mouth on yours and how terrifyingly good it felt to be wanted like that.

When he finally drew back, lips parted and breathing like he’d surfaced from underwater, your eyes were still half-closed. It took a second to find your footing again.

“What was that for?” you asked, your voice barely above the rain.

He stayed close, his breath fanning across your face, his hands still holding your cheeks as if they were sacred  and he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, the words hoarse and breathless, sounding like they’d forced their way out. “I don’t know how to look at you and not say it. How are you this beautiful?” His eyes searched yours, as if he’d never seen you until now. “It’s maddening.”

You stared back, mouth opening and closing with nothing useful coming out. Your face was burning hotter than the summer sun despite the cool downpour soaking you both to the bone. The heat pooled embarrassingly at your ears and crept down your neck.

“I—What—What am I supposed to say to that?” you stammered, blinking rapidly as if it might clear the pink from your cheeks.

He grinned, boyish and soft, his dimples deepening as if pleased that he’d gotten to you in the best way. Without pulling back, he leaned in, tilting his head forward until his nose brushed against yours, water dripping off the tip and sliding down your upper lip.

“You—”

“Your Highness.”

You startled so violently you nearly stepped on Jeongin’s foot. The both of you turned, and there he was—Felix—standing about three paces away with his hood drawn low. His expression was the same as ever, lips curled up in that small, angelic smile that somehow made the moment feel twice as awkward.

Your entire face combusted on the spot.

Jeongin, however, looked entirely unfazed, save for the faint twitch at his brow, which might have been irritation—or just resignation. He let out a slow breath through his nose and stepped half in front of you to shield you from further mortification.

Felix tilted his head, voice trained into calm oblivion. "I’ve arranged an inn for the night. Travelling in this storm would be risky. Best to rest and leave before dawn."

You raised both hands, almost clapping. “Woah. You’re actually so smart, Felix!” Your prior mortification entirely left your body, replaced by genuine awe at his thinking capacity.

His smile twitched. Not wider—just twitchier, like he had a lot of words and chose none of them. He looked at Jeongin and then back at you, and you could swear his expression read, You’re just now realizing this? Rude.

Jeongin didn’t say a word. He only turned to look at you, already tugging your hood back over your head like he was reclaiming your attention.

Felix cleared his throat.

Jeongin sighed, very softly, and gestured toward the end of the alley. “Let’s go.”

The inn was modest but well-kept, its wooden beams and tiled roof slick with rain that fell in slow, rhythmic sheets. A single lantern flickered above the entrance, its glow diffused by droplets clinging to the glass, casting a faint, amber hue over the damp steps. Felix approached first, his boots thudding against the stone path and hood still drawn low. Rain dripped steadily from the hem of his cloak and as he stepped onto the porch, he gave a brief shake of his shoulders, flinging droplets in a small arc behind him.

The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered man with a trimmed beard and weary eyes, perked up the moment he saw him. Recognition flitted across his face—then a deeper reverence took hold when his gaze moved to you. And then to Jeongin, who stood beside you still in disguise.

He bowed. “Welcome, Head Pharmacist,” he said, voice low but firm with gratitude. “An honour to host you. You’re safe here.”

You gave him a brief nod, water still dripping from your clothes, your arms loosely wrapped around yourself. Jeongin offered a polite bow as well, doing his best to stay in character, and you noticed the innkeeper’s glance linger on him for a second, as though trying to place him but nothing was said.

A young girl, perhaps no older than eleven, rushed in from a side door, her arms full with a stack of towels that threatened to topple with each step. Her eyes darted first to Felix, then to you, widening with awe. Her gaze skittered downward the moment she realized she was staring, and her cheeks turned a ruddy pink as she handed one to each of you. You accepted yours with a murmured thanks and pressed the soft fabric to your neck, relishing the dry warmth as you moved toward the fireplace.

The hearth burned bright, snapped and popped gently, and the scent of smoke wove between the worn tapestries and wooden beams above. You stepped closer, stretching your hands toward the heat, the ache in your fingertips finally dulling as they thawed.

Felix stood just off to the side with arms crossed loosely, letting his own towel hang from his shoulder; expression observant. He didn’t sit, didn’t move much, just kept track of every person who passed by. Occasionally, his eyes would flick toward you or Jeongin, but he made no move to interrupt the moment. The fire cast shadows across the floor, softening the edges of the room, and for a little while, there was nothing to do but breathe and dry off.

The innkeeper returned within minutes, bowing again. “The rooms are ready upstairs. Fresh bedding, and the windows sealed. Please rest as long as you need.”

You thanked him softly and looked over at Jeongin who had pulled the towel down from his head. He was facing away from everyone’s line of sight. His hair was still damp, dark strands curling slightly from the moisture, skin flushed with the heat of the fire. He met your gaze briefly before pulling the hood up, and you both followed the innkeeper up the narrow staircase, the wood creaking gently beneath your steps.

Felix followed last.

To your surprise, yours and jeongin’s rooms were connected by a door. You paused at the threshold, towel still in your hand, and glanced toward him. He stood near his own doorway, towel slung across his neck, one eyebrow lifted faintly in question. When your gaze flicked toward the connecting door, Jeongin gave a small shrug with one shoulder which meant he wasn't aware of this arrangement too. If anything, it meant Felix had arranged this himself.

Felix’s room was beside yours, though you doubted he’d use the bed that had been made up for him. He’d likely remain awake through the night pacing between shadows, posted near windows or doors and observing.

After the innkeeper left, Felix did another round of his solo investigation to make sure all three rooms were safe and secured—checking latches, opening shutters only to close them again, pressing a knuckle lightly against the walls to test for hollows, and running a glance across the seams where ceiling met beam. Only after he emerged and gave you a small tilt of his head did you finally step into your room.

A bath was prepared and you wasted no time washing yourself. The water was warm enough to coax a breath from your chest, and you let it pour over your shoulders and arms, lifting your hair away from your neck, allowing the heat to unknot every place where the cold had sunk in. The tension in your legs began to loosen, and you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you poured another ladle of water across your collarbone. Afterward, you dried yourself with the towel left behind and changed into the set of clothes provided by the inn.

There was a knock at your door. You turned your head as the door creaked open and the innkeeper’s daughter stepped inside. She clutched a small wicker basket in both hands, one foot shuffling forward as she glanced up at you.

"I came to collect your wet clothes," she said, her voice light and cautious, like she didn’t want to disturb more than necessary.

You gave her a small smile, stepping forward to meet her halfway. As you handed over your outer cloak and the damp bundle of your travel-worn garments, you reached out and gently ruffled her hair, watching the way she ducked her head with a shy smile. The grin stayed a second longer on her lips—until her eyes flicked curiously toward the closed door connecting your room to Jeongin’s.

Your gaze followed hers, and your smile froze. If she went in there, she’ll probably recognize he’s the prince. So you quickly turned back to her.

"Wait right outside the door, sweety," you said, patting her shoulder. "I’ll get the knight’s clothes for you."

She nodded and shuffled back out, leaving the basket at her feet as you turned and crossed the room in a few quick strides. You tapped your knuckles once against the connecting door before easing it open, the hinges groaning slightly. You peeked your head in, your words already forming—only to falter halfway through when your eyes caught sight of Jeongin’s bare back.

His head was turned away from you, an arm slightly raised as he ran a hand through his damp hair. The fire behind him cast soft light over the lean lines of his back, and you saw that he’d at least put on the trousers provided by the inn. When he heard the door, he turned slightly, startled but not startled enough to panic, and when he saw it was you, a small breath escaped him.

"Sorry," you whispered softly, smiling as you stepped further into the room, not bothering to look away. "The little girl is here. She’s collecting our wet clothes. I told her I’d bring yours."

Jeongin blinked at you in delayed understanding, then his eyes widened as the meaning settled in. "Ah—right, yes," he muttered, already moving.

He stumbled around the room in hurried steps, scanning for where he’d left his soaked uniform. He found the balled-up fabric beside the stool near the fireplace and grabbed it, holding it awkwardly in both hands as he turned back toward you. The tips of his ears were faintly pink from the heat, or perhaps the unexpected intrusion.

You reached out and took the bundle from him, letting your fingers brush his for a second. He gave a sheepish exhale, the apples of his cheekbones lifting when he smiled. But just as you were about to turn and leave, his hand reached for you again. 

His palm found the back of your head, and his fingers threaded through the damp strands slowly, almost reluctantly, evident that he wasn’t quite ready to let go. You felt the slight tremor in his touch. He dipped his head down until his lips met your forehead and he stayed like that for a heartbeat longer than necessary, like he was hoping the memory of it would keep you company until morning. When he finally pulled back, his hand still rested against your hair.

“Goodnight,” he said it softly.

You smiled up at him, brushing a stand of hair from his eyes. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

You stepped back into your room, closing the door between you with a quiet click before crossing to the hallway where the girl waited. Once she’d collected both sets of clothes and disappeared down the hall, you drew the curtains shut and turned down the covers. The warmth from the hearth had reached the mattress enough that the sheets didn’t startle your skin when you slipped beneath them. You lay on your side for a while, unmoving, your eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the dying firelight.

The day replayed itself in pieces behind your eyes. You found yourself smiling to yourself when you remembered certain moments with him. As long as he had fun, nothing else mattered to you.

As the haze of sleep approached, the more pressing thought returned to you: the approval letter. The days ahead would not be simple but today had been a rare reprieve. It had given you space to breathe and that alone brought with it a steadiness you badly needed.

You turned onto your back, exhaling slowly, your thoughts narrowing to one last image before sleep claimed you completely: Jeongin, with crescent eyes disappearing, smiling at you like he didn’t know what to do with his happiness.

The smile that always showed up just before his deep dimples did.

True to Felix's word, you were stirred from sleep just before the faintest traces of dawn touched the sky. It was safer to travel back to the palace before the city stirred awake.

The innkeeper was already awake, as though he had never slept, standing near the door with a shawl wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He didn’t say much, only bowed his head respectfully when you approached. You offered him a murmur of thanks, voice still thick with sleep but sincere, and he nodded once before stepping aside to let you pass.

Outside, the air was crisp and damp, the sky still dark with only the faintest hint of blue creeping in from the horizon. Felix was already there near the city stable, standing beside the horses. The three of you rode out before the city stirred, the streets still quiet, the shutters closed tight against the night’s chill. The first blush of sunrise was breaking by the time the castle gates came into view. The guards at the outer post recognized Felix immediately and waved you through without question.

At the castle stable, where the scent of hay and dew-soaked earth still clung to the air, it became clear that the moment to part had come. Jeongin stood by his horse, the reins slack in his hand, the edge of his cloak fluttering faintly with the wind that rolled through the courtyard. When your eyes met, his gaze softened—there was a trace of reluctance there, the same one from the night before. It was beginning to become unbearable for him to not have you close to him all the time. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, slow and faint, and yours followed, just as real.

Felix left to speak to a stablehand and when he returned, he gave a slight bow. "I’ll escort him the rest of the way," he said, casting a glance toward Jeongin, who nodded faintly, adjusting the edge of his hood again.

The prince looked at you one last time before he stepped forward, and as he walked past, his hand brushed against yours. His pinky curled gently with yours, holding for a second longer than needed. 

“Get some extra rest before you go in,” he murmured, his voice pitched low enough that no one else would hear. The sound of it settled in your chest, and you gave him a small nod.

You watched as the two of them disappeared through the passage leading deeper into the palace. You waited until their silhouettes faded behind the stone archway before turning on your heel and making your way across the courtyard.

Instead of returning to your quarters, you took the east corridor leading to the infirmary. The hallway was still mostly empty, only the occasional servant passing by with a lowered gaze and a respectful nod. You crossed through the arch of the infirmary’s entrance just as the sky turned a pale silver.

Behind the central worktable stood Minho, already in uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands deep in sorting the morning stock. He didn’t look up at first. That was just Minho. But when he did, it was a slow lift of the eyes followed by a slight double take, the shift in his brows giving him away even if the rest of him stayed unchanged.

“You’re back,” he said, tone devoid of life, one brow raised just slightly as he reached for another bundle of dried roots and set them aside. "Did the city treat you so well you considered not coming back?”

You dropped your satchel on the counter and rolled your shoulders out of habit, your voice still a touch hoarse from the cold morning air. “Good to see you too, Minho.”

He gave a small shake of his head, more to himself than to you, and gestured with his chin toward the stool on the other side of the table. “We got deliveries an hour ago. I sorted what I could, but half of it’s mislabeled. Thought you might want to handle the fun part.”

You looked over, eyes narrowing at the disorganized mess of dried petals and loose powder pouches. There was no way you were going to do all that right now. A small, exaggerated groan escaped from your lips like a tired child who was told to finish their chores. It drew the smallest twitch at the corner of Minho’s mouth.

He stepped around the table to reach for his coat that was draped over a chair. From its inner pocket, he retrieved an envelope and turned back toward you, holding it before you.

The second your eyes landed on it, your heart jolted as you stepped forward, fingers stretching out before your thoughts could even catch up. He didn’t need to tell you who was the sender. The seal alone told you enough. The envelope was stamped with the insignia of the Atharian Kingdom’s Apothecary Guild.

Your eyes grew comically wide when you looked at him. Minho gave a single, knowing nod.

"It’s already here?" you gasped, voice an octave higher than intended. "Oh my god—Minho, what if they rejected my request? What if they thought it was too vague or suspicious? What if they—"

Minho raised a hand. "Then we find another way to get the antidote," he said plainly, assuring you. "You panicking isn’t going to make them change their minds. But let’s read what they said first."

You nodded quickly, already fumbling with the seal, trying not to tear the paper in your rush. The edges slipped under your fingertips before giving way, and you unfolded the letter with both hands, scanning the page with sharp, bouncing eyes. Your lips moved but didn’t form words as you read it once. Then again. And a third time, just to be certain the words weren’t lying to you.

Accepted.

The Atharian Guild had approved your request. They would allow access to their archives and the text you’d been chasing—the one containing the antidote. The very foundation of the cure Jeongin needed was finally within reach.

You dropped down into the nearest chair as your knees gave in a little from the residual rush of adrenaline, the paper still clutched in your hand like it was your lifeline. Minho, observing your reaction, crossed the space slowly and plucked the letter from your fingers, scanning it for himself. He let out a breath of relief himself. 

The truth finally bled into your consciousness. Jeongin would be fine. Jeongin would be safe. He wouldn’t have to suffer nights after nights any longer.

You needed to find Chan.

The journey had to begin today.

The letter had been taken straight to Chan, who, upon confirming the contents of the acceptance invitation, wasted no time informing the queen. Her blessing arrived swiftly, and with it, the formal order that set everything in motion. Within an hour, Chan had assembled the team that would accompany you on the journey: five in total including you, with Captain Seo Changbin himself at the lead.

The departure was set for noon. That left you with only a handful of hours to prepare, though the way your thoughts spun and your body moved, it felt like the seconds slipped through your grasp faster than you could pin them down. In your quarters, you pulled together your journey bag carefully. Medical supplies first—gauze, ointments, antiseptics, small bottles of your own formulations. You packed water flasks and dry food you knew would hold for days, extra clothes folded in tight rolls, and your notebook to document the antidote’s research. You debated bringing the full medicinal index but chose instead to copy down the relevant entries.

Once packed, you moved briskly through the infirmary. You relayed specific duties to your coworkers and double-checked that the supply inventory was logged and marked for each day you’d be absent. You spoke with the apprentices as a group, instructing them on daily rounds and rotating care shifts. Lastly, you entrusted Minho with the final keys to your post. He would be acting Head Pharmacist while you were away. If there was one person you could entrust the role of head pharmacist to, it was him.

And though you were short on time, you made one final stop—across the eastern corridor, where the palace physician’s office sat. You stepped inside without knocking, voice already sharp with authority before he could speak. You made it perfectly clear that he was to be thorough with Jeongin’s care, that he was to make adjustments at the slightest discomfort, that he was not to take liberties or shortcuts, and that if you returned to find Jeongin’s condition worsened in any measure, he’d be answering directly to the queen. The physician nodded several times, and you waited until he repeated your instructions back to you, word for word, before you left.

Damn. That felt good.

By the time you returned to your office, there were only thirty minutes left until the journey team’s departure. Your travel bag leaned against your chair; a copy of the route, your clearance papers rested atop your desk. You paced for a few moments, then sat. Then stood again. Your eyes scanned everything one last time.

To say you weren’t nervous would’ve been a lie of incredible proportions. You had prepared for this—you were ready—but the skittish current beneath your skin betrayed the thoughts churning in your head. This was no longer just a theoretical quest or a wishful pursuit. This was real. The success of the antidote depended on you. Chan had once said the crown’s fate rested in your hands, and now, standing at the brink of it, those words weighed more than you could ever imagine.

Before you could spin further into your own thoughts, a knock sounded against the office door. You didn’t even get a chance to answer before the door creaked open halfway and Hyunjin’s head popped in, his hair still a bit damp and clinging to his neck in places from morning routine. His uniform jacket was thrown over one shoulder.

"It’s me," he said, stepping in fully taking in your startled expression with a snort.

Your face must’ve shifted in a dozen expressions in the span of a breath—brows drawn tight, eyes wide then squinting, and your lips wobbling between an awkward greeting and a groan. That made Hyunjin stop mid-step, one brow raised. The composure you’d managed to keep all morning unraveled in an instant. 

Before you could get a word in or the heat prickling at your waterline could spill into tears, Hyunjin crossed the room in three long strides, dropped his uniform jacket over your desk with absolutely no regard for the neatly arranged documents, and pulled you into a hug that was firm and warm and exactly what you needed. You sighed against his shoulder.

His hand skimmed the back of your head, then settled briefly between your shoulders while his chin came to rest atop your crown. After a while, he pulled back just enough to glance down at you, sniggering. "I sensed your mental breakdown all the way from the knight quarters."

You mumbled a weak protest into his chest, muffled but warm. "That obvious?"

"Painfully. I almost had to come charging in here with smelling salts and a fan," he replied, giving your back a single pat before nudging you toward the chairs.

Once settled across from you, he let his elbows rest on his thighs, expression more serious now. "I wish I could go with you," he said after a beat, the words were plain and frank. You realized he’d been chewing on it since morning. "If I did, I’d know for sure you’d be okay. Not that I don’t trust Changbin—I trust that guy more than I trust myself sometimes—but you’re... you know. You’re my sister. I’ll always worry.”

Your eyes softened at his words. Still your fingers busied themselves with tracing over stitching of your satchel you’d repaired months ago, lips pressing together like you were holding something back—fear, maybe, because this journey was indeed dangerous. 

"I’ll be fine," you held his gaze as you said it. "I’m strong, remember? Changbin will keep the road clear. And you—your duty’s here. I need you to stay and do your part."

He nodded, but you didn’t miss how he swallowed once before answering. You straightened your posture slightly.

"Swear to me," you added. "You’ll protect Jeongin."

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to move his hand between you both, palm open and expectant. Your own slid into it automatically, the familiar shape of his fingers closing around yours in a single, brief squeeze that sealed the promise. That was just how it had always been. He didn’t need to embellish anything with sentiment. You felt it regardless.

Then his eyes drifted to your collar. "Is that new?" he asked, head tilting slightly, fingers lifting to gesture at your neck. "It’s beautiful."

Your hand rose reflexively, thumb brushing over the detailed edges of the plum blossom-shaped bolo tie. Your features softened, expression slipping out of focus for a second, lost in the memory. "Hmm? Oh. Jeongin gave it to me."

Hyunjin’s expression shifted in stages, so distinctly and with such lack of subtlety that it almost looked animated. The slow grin that unfurled on his lips pushed up his cheeks until they looked like they might cramp from the strain. His thoughts were spiraling into a victory dance. Oh. Oh, this is gold. That coward finally gave you the gift?

Hyunjin had half a mind to frame this moment—it was rare that life handed him such teasing perfect material without him lifting a finger.

"Is that so?" he drawled, dragging the syllables out like he wanted to savor each one. Nevertheless it sounded almost innocent, as if he hadn’t already drafted several ways to weaponize this knowledge for later use.

Still lost in your thoughts and the gentle focus on the bolo tie, you didn’t even notice the silence growing between you or register the way Hyunjin had stopped moving entirely to watch your face, soaking in your oblivious fondness. It was only when the quiet became too loud that your eyes flicked up, narrowed slightly, and met his.

"...You okay?"

His grin stretched further, bordering on smug. "I’ve never been better," he voiced breezily as he straightened up to his full height, tossing his jacket over his shoulder. "Speaking of which, he said he wishes to see you before your departure."

Your stomach did a flip, a shift in your heartbeat which was near-instant, even if you tried to pretend otherwise. Hyunjin slyly smirked when he noticed your obvious giddiness at the prince’s mention. You didn’t look at him when you spoke.

"Thanks for letting me know," you muttered, your voice sounding just a touch different now. It was like you were still descending from the realm between the present moment and whatever thoughts had leapt up at the mention of Jeongin.

Hyunjin turned without another word, pacing toward the door like he had somewhere better to be—which, technically, he didn’t, but it was the principle of the thing. And besides, there was no force on earth that would convince him to escort you to the prince’s office. Whatever was happening between you two now, whatever shifting emotions and atmosphere had been hovering there since you both came back from the town, it was not for him to breathe in. He’d probably choke on it then pass away. Disastrously.

The expression on his face must have said all of that and more, because before he could make it fully out the door, a pen came flying past his shoulder. He ducked easily, cackling like a madman that echoed down the corridor before disappearing.

You exhaled heavily with a huff, pressing your palm briefly against your forehead as you stepped around the last corner, already forming a mental list of all the ways you were going to make Hyunjin pay for the teasing he’d no doubt continue the second you returned.  He was going to get a handful, that much you promised yourself. But first, you had a prince to meet, who became the reason your heartbeat felt misplaced in your chest.

The guards you passed along the way dipped into deep bows, their gazes briefly meeting yours before darting back down, recognizing the gravity of your departure and the favor with which their prince regarded you. The nerves had started crawling up your spine again, those same nerves that had taken root the moment your departure was confirmed, and now they coiled tighter the closer you got to his door. You managed only one knock, barely a tap against the wood, before it swung open with a force and urgency that startled you—almost like he’d been counting down the minutes for your arrival.

Jeongin looked around quickly in the hallway—left, then right—confirming it was only you. Then, wordlessly he grasped your wrist, and in the same breath, he pulled you inside.

The moment the door shut closed, he embraced you in a hug so tight, it felt like he was trying to mold you into him. He hugged you like it physically hurt to let you go. His touch felt like he’d been counting the seconds until he could touch you again, and now that he had, he wasn’t going to waste a single one. His arms tightened around your waist until you could barely breathe, and his face buried itself into the curve of your neck, warm breath brushing over your skin. 

Despite leaving him only at sunrise, being apart for even a few hours had felt stretched and hollow, like your day had been missing its center. Was it truly this deep already—how much he meant to you? He wasn’t just someone you loved; he had become the constant your world turned around. And the rush that filled your chest from just laying eyes on him again—it struck you all over again, and you found yourself hoping, almost desperately, that it would never fade.

In his embrace, all your worries—those tangled thoughts of what lay ahead, of unfamiliar paths and the risks waiting there—unwinded all at once, because being held by him reminded you with a clarity that this journey, every uncertain step of it, was worth taking if it meant his well-being could be protected.

"Promise me you’ll be safe," he murmured against your neck, his voice raw in a way that made your chest tighten. You felt it all the way down to your bones. You responded by holding him closer, your fingers curling tighter at his back, and he drew in a shaky breath.

"Promise me you’ll get back to me."

His voice cracked at the end which he couldn’t smooth out no matter how hard he tried, and you felt it like a tremor through your chest. You closed your eyes, pressing your face into his shoulder, wishing, aching, hoping that time would stop just for a breath, that the walls around you would soften and bend to keep this moment inside your heart forever. Because no matter how far you were going, no matter how uncertain the road ahead was, he was the reason you’d return.

“Of course I’ll return to you,” you whispered back fondly. “Where else am I supposed to go? You’re my home.”

You do not use the word ‘home’ lightly because growing up you never had one. You’d never said it without some kind of defense braced around it, without some part of you waiting to be disappointed by the idea. So when you sigh it in the crook of his neck, you wanted him to feel that you meant every word.

He leaned back, but didn’t let go. His hands sought out yours and held them between his palms for a beat before guiding them to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of each. You were fond of this habit of his—one you’d come to expect—but that didn’t make it any less intimate. His lips lingered just a moment longer today.

“I know you’re brave. I know you’re capable. But please—for me—don’t risk more than you have to.” His eyes, intense yet filled to the brim with barely held together emotion, locked you in place in a shared ache.

"I will do what I need to," you replied, your voice softer than his but no less rooted in truth. You leaned in slightly, closing the distance that had crept up between your bodies again, pressing your forehead to his. You gave his hands a small squeeze. "What I must. You don’t have to worry too much. I don’t want you falling sick from it."

The faint smirk that followed was barely there, but it reached your voice when you added, "I’ve already traumatized the royal physician enough for one season."

That did it. His laugh cracked through the tension; it was soft but it was real. His dimples showed and you let yourself bask in the sound.

“I’ll see you at the gates,” he said at last once the laughter faded, voice dipping low again with affection so raw it almost didn’t sound like him. “But I wanted to see you here first. Like this. One last time.”

This time, it was you who closed the space between you, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the side of his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hands flattened against his back.

"I’ll come back to you," you whispered into his skin. "No matter what. I’ll come back to you."

Only a few within the palace walls knew the truth, and even fewer knew every detail. Because until it could be confirmed that there was indeed an intruder within the palace, any leak of information could prove dangerous. Worse, if found out that the intruder was not acting alone, and that a wider net of conspirators lurked beyond your sight then the risks extended beyond just the success of your mission—they bled into your safety, your life.

That thought alone had kept your nerves taut. Even now, as you stepped out onto the palace grounds and caught sight of the five horses standing in a line by the gates, your stomach refused to settle. Captain Changbin stood beside them, speaking with Chan in a low voice, one hand gesturing toward the map rolled under his arm.

You tilted your chin up and looked at the sky, a pale stretch of morning cloud scattered above the towers mirroring your scattered focus but it was Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder that truly pulled you back into yourself. You met his gaze briefly and just the contact alone was enough to steady your breath.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought a tilt in the air. The guards straightened first, followed by the knights. You turned your head just in time to see the queen and Jeongin approaching from the inner courtyard. Conversations were cut mid-word as heads dipped, yours included. Even the horses stilled, as though sensing the presence of royalty. You stepped forward and positioned yourself beside Changbin, now directly in front of the royal family, hands folded before you as custom dictated.

The queen stepped toward your group and let her eyes pass over each member of the team. Then, she stopped before you.

"This journey will be remembered," she said in a tone laced with the kind of strength only mothers of monarchs seemed to possess. "Bring back what we’ve yet to find, and come back whole. You have my blessing."

She stepped toward Changbin next.

"Captain," she said, tone respectful, "keep them safe."

"You have my word, Your Majesty," Changbin replied with a hand to his chest.

You bowed deeply in return, murmuring your gratitude, then looked up, eyes briefly locking with Jeongin’s. His expression gave nothing away, and yours mirrored the same restraint.

Even if many of those around you already knew what lay between the two of you, today, you had to wear your titles before your hearts.

Jeongin stepped forward, stopping beside his mother. He brought a hand to his chest and bowed—the formal gesture of gratitude toward you and Captain Changbin for the undertaking you were about to begin.

“Each of you carry the hopes of this kingdom,” he said, placing a hand over his chest and bowing his head with solemn dignity. “I am indebted to your service—and I shall remember it always.”

No words passed between you afterwards, but it was a moment of recognition all the same. The attention of the group soon shifted again. The knights began their final checks, Chan took the map and moved to the side with the route team, and Changbin crossed the courtyard to go over the departure sequence. You stayed where you were for a moment longer, slipping into your abyss of thoughts.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your thoughts scattering before you managed to gather them again—because Jeongin had called you by your name. Not your formal title or the usual nicknames he’d grown fond of using. You had forgotten how startlingly intimate it felt to hear your name on his mouth.

You turned slightly toward him, letting your eyes scan the courtyard for any onlookers, but most people were focused on their tasks, and the queen had turned to speak with Chan. Nobody was watching. 

Jeongin brought his hand to his chest again, slower this time."If anything happens," he said, his eyes not moving from yours, "I’ll come find you."

He didn’t smile, and neither did you. Your throat tightened nevertheless. You managed a nod, slow and small. "I know," your voice was barely above a whisper.

That was his promise. If you couldn’t keep yours—he would keep his.

You turned toward your horse and with one swift movement, you mounted. Across from you, Changbin had already exchanged the traditional farewell salute with Chan, a brief clasp of arms and a few words you couldn't make out, and then swung up onto his own horse in a fluid motion.

Before the order to move out came, you let your eyes sweep one final time over the people who stood behind. There were guards and stable hands still tying gear, aides rushing to deliver scrolls and supplies, but your gaze skipped over them without pause. It caught and held on Hyunjin first, where he stood near the edge of the courtyard. When your eyes met, he gave you a nod. It said he’d watch everything until you returned.

Then your eyes found Jeongin. You smiled, small and determined, because that was all you could give in that moment. Changbin gave the final call to ride, you turned your horse and followed, hooves clicking against stone before finding rhythm in the dirt path that waited just beyond the gates. The courtyard began to fade behind you. 

A few hours after your departure, Jeongin was alone when Hyunjin found him.

The private practice quarters, tucked away behind the castle walls, were silent save for the sound of his breathing and the faint scrape of boots across the polished wooden floor. This place, set apart from the main training grounds, was rarely used unless discretion was needed.

Jeongin was mid-swing, the wooden training sword slicing through the air in a clean, controlled arc when he heard the door creak open. His grip tightened instinctively, but he didn’t turn.

"If you’re here to spar, give me a moment—"

A sudden whoosh of displaced air brushed his cheek.

Jeongin barely managed to tilt his head in time to dodge the wooden blade aimed straight at him. His brows shot up when he turned. Hyunjin stood a few paces away, one foot cocked lazily to the side, sword already lowered to a resting angle. A familiar shit-eating grin plastered on his face which was enough to provoke a fight on its own.

“Nice reflexes, Your Highness,” Hyunjin mused, tilting his head. He stepped forward slowly, his blade tapping lightly against Jeongin’s shoulder. "Then again, I’d expect nothing less from the man who is actively courting my little sister."

Jeongin’s hands faltered for a split second, his breath catching in his throat.

"...Hyunjin."

"Yes, my prince?"

Jeongin exhaled sharply, stepping back to create some distance, but Hyunjin merely followed, keeping his blade trained on him.

“I’m not doing this with you.”

"Oh, but we are doing this," Hyunjin replied smoothly, giving his sword a lazy twirl before settling into a low stance. "Because I need to decide whether I’m handing her over so easily."

Jeongin’s expression darkened. "She’s not yours to hand over."

Hyunjin shrugged. "No, she’s not. But she’s like a sister to me. And you—you’re like a brother." His eyes sharpened, the grin on his face thinning into something more calculated. “So you understand why I have to make sure you’re worthy, yeah? Prince or not. No hard feelings, Your Highness.”

Jeongin didn’t have time to get a word in because Hyunjin lunged.

The clash of their swords rang out in the stillness. Jeongin managed to block just in time, his body tensing against the impact. The force sent vibrations up his arm, but he held firm, stepping into the attack rather than away.

"Good," Hyunjin muttered between exchanges, his blade knocking against Jeongin’s with just enough pressure to test. His grin came back. "If you flinched, I’d have really reconsidered."

Jeongin rolled his eyes before pushing back with equal force. "You don’t own her."

"You’re right," Hyunjin conceded, sidestepping a swing with infuriating ease. "But she’s family."

Their swords struck again. Jeongin moved to block, then pivoted, but Hyunjin read him too well, matching pace for pace.Jeongi n was used to sparring with Hyunjin, but today there was a thread of personal intent running beneath each blow, a question being asked and answered with every clash.

“I would never hurt her,” Jeongin said, this time with more force behind both his words and the sword he drove forward. “You know it.”

Hyunjin met the blow and held it there for a beat. “Never?”

“Never,” Jeongin repeated.

Hyunjin stared at him, long enough that Jeongin’s grip twitched. Then Hyunjin changed his footing and dipped lower. Jeongin reacted too late. In one swift move, Hyunjin slipped inside his guard, placing the blunt side of the blade against Jeongin’s ribs.

Jeongin froze at the contact while Hyunjin merely snorted.

"Well, as your older brother in spirit, I’ll hold you to that."

He stepped back, spinning his sword in a flourish and resting it against his shoulder. He clapped his hand on Jeongin’s back before pulling him into a side hug. "I won’t go easy on you next time, though."

Jeongin let out a long breath and leveled him with a look. "You never go easy on me."

Hyunjin chortled, throwing his head back. "Alright, that's enough training for today. You need to rest, Your Highness, or she’ll behead me if she gets to know about this."

At your mention, Jeongin's mind slipped. It was too easy for it to go there—wondering where you were now, if you’d managed to eat something warm, if the roads were rough beneath the horses’ hooves. It had only been a few hours, and already it felt like a gap had cracked open in his chest. He could only hope Changbin had found a safe place for the team to stop for the night. You hated the cold, hated riding in the dark. He could only hope you weren’t having a hard time and pulled the towel across his neck, blinking sweat from his lashes as they stepped into the corridor.

Hyunjin was already back to grumbling. "You still drop your guard too often on your left," he said, pointing an accusing finger toward Jeongin as he adjusted the wrap on his forearm. "One of these days, I'm going to make you eat dirt for it."

Jeongin’s response came with a tired roll of his eyes as he dragged the towel along the side of his face. "You sound like Chan. It's unsettling."

"Take it as a compliment. I only repeat the wise ones," Hyunjin hummed, stretching his arms behind his head.

They turned the corner, walking side by side beneath flickering sconces that bathed the stone corridor in patches of uneven gold. Jeongin was half-turned, already lifting his chin to reply when—

Whoosh! 

—Hyunjin’s sword drawn in one smooth arc and a loud snap filled the corridor as the arrow met steel. The broken shaft skidded across the floor with a dull scrape.

Jeongin’s heart kicked hard in his chest. He unsheathed his own sword before falling into a fighting stance beside Hyunjin, scanning the edges of the corridor with sharpened eyes. Hyunjin muttered something, low and fast, already stepping slightly in front.

“Down!” Hyunjin shouted.

Another volley whistled in from the opposite direction. Two blades intercepted the second volley, sending fragments scattering across the corridor tiles. Felix landed from the shadows near the corridor’s edge, twin daggers glinting under the torchlight.

Hyunjin barely glanced at him. "You're late."

Felix didn’t bother to respond, already crouched low as his eyes swept the high arches and narrow ledges.“Two. One on the left rooftops. Might be another across the inner ledge.”

Jeongin adjusted his grip on the sword and stepped forward, but Hyunjin moved immediately, arm barring his path.

"We move," Hyunjin said, not looking at him. "They picked this corridor for a reason."

The sound of another arrow whizzing through the air caught their ears. Felix caught it mid-turn, one of his blades rising without even needing a second glance. It hit the floor near Jeongin's boots, the head gleaming faintly with a thin coat of liquid.

Felix frowned, stepping forward as he flicked one of the arrowheads up with the tip of his dagger. It spun, catching the light before landing in his palm. “Arrowheads are coated,” he cursed under his breath, throwing it away. “Don't let it scratch you. Your Highness, stay out of this!”

"I’m not leaving you to fight alone," Jeongin snapped, already stepping closer.

"You’re not leaving," Hyunjin snapped back, not sparing him a glance as he gripped his shoulder and shoved him back toward the wall. "You’re staying put. Guards! To the prince!"

His thunderous voice echoed down the corridor and footsteps rushed in from around the bend, armored soldiers appearing and forming a protective line around Jeongin as Hyunjin pushed him behind the first row. The knight grabbed one of the guard’s arms before commanding, "Find Commander Chan. Move!"

He launched upward, propelling himself off the wall and climbing toward the rafters. His blades caught the light as he twisted through midair and launched himself toward the higher ledge.  A shout rang out, followed by the scrape of metal, and then the sound of someone falling, crashing hard against the stones.

Hyunjin turned, eyes darting. One of the attackers had dropped low, retreating into the adjoining hall. His boots barely made sound against the stone, but Hyunjin spotted him just in time.

"Watch him," Hyunjin growled at the guards, then sprinted after the second figure. He caught up just as Felix drove one blade down into the stone floor to pin the first assassin’s hand, making the man let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The second assailant swung wide with twin daggers. Hyunjin ducked the first strike and drove his elbow into the man's side, forcing a grunt as air rushed from his lungs. He twisted, dragging his sword upward in a sharp, brutal arc that cut through fabric and flesh across the attacker’s thigh. The man stumbled, teeth clenched, but still raised his weapons again.

They pressed forward together—Hyunjin drawing focus with clean, sharp blocks and strong counterblows, Felix weaving past them to strike from tighter angles. The one whose hand got impaled earlier fell with a cry, his shoulder torn open. The other lunged at Hyunjin with a short sword held in reverse, but Felix caught his wrist from behind, twisted it, and slammed his face into the wall. There was a sickening crunch.

The subdued assassin froze, watching his partner fall limply against the wall. He hissed through gritted teeth before opening his mouth. Felix’s keen eyes caught it immediately. Without hesitation, he struck upward with the hilt of his dagger, the crack of bone echoing as the assassin’s jaw dislocated with a choked scream.

 “Cyanide capsule,” Felix said under his breath, fingers digging into the man’s mouth to retrieve the small hidden pill now dislodged from under his tongue. He threw it to the ground.

Felix didn’t give him the chance. His arm moved fast—dagger hilt rising and slamming into the side of the man’s jaw. The force cracked bone and forced the assassin’s head to snap back. He choked on his own scream.

A deadly silence pressed in, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the shuffle of approaching boots. Jeongin stepped through the corridor, moving past the guard line. His eyes were drawn to the two bodies—alive but bloodied, restrained and no longer a threat. His stoic expression didn’t change, but there was adrenaline coursing through his veins. He kept walking until he was near Hyunjin and Felix, trying to ground the spinning thoughts in his head, but all he felt was a throb behind his eyes and the thrum of his heartbeat pounding fast and disoriented.

Someone really set out to kill him and they were desperate.

Behind him Chan arrived just then, eyes catching on the scene in a single glance. "Tie them up," he ordered. "Now."

There was a moment of stillness, like the hall itself was processing what had just occurred. Then the guards leapt to action, ropes pulled taut and swords pointed low as the two intruders were restrained. The first was near unconscious. The second, jaw hanging at a painful angle, didn’t dare move.

Felix stepped back, gaze fixed downward. Hyunjin remained near Jeongin, catching his breath, sweat dripping from his temple. Jeongin hadn’t said a word. No words passed between the three of them as the hallway settled back into tense, humming silence.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Taglist; @xylatox @starrynightgyu @lilithwii @babigriin @sillygoosegoose @danidontpls @seherinc @maddy24207 @nanalover240 @sansysan @saccharinezennie

[rip2mycarradio]

2025 calum smut im genuinely on my hands and knees begging for this i dont know what i wnat but i need him so please

FUCK IT I LOVE YOU .

ohhhh baby yk i was waiting for dis one…..

warnings: fingering, a little desperate, kissing & super fast paced!

༺☆༻

calum had that look again.

the one he got when the room went quiet and you were just there, close enough to touch, close enough to breathe in—eyes soft, lips parted like you already knew what he was thinking.

his fingers curled lightly around your wrist, pulling you in until your knees brushed his. he looked up at you like he wasn’t sure if he was about to kiss you or write a song about it.

“c’mere,” he said, voice low, a little rasped.

you leaned in, heartbeat thudding.

“been thinking about this all day,” he whispered, thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again.

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to.

because the second your nose bumped his, he was already leaning up to kiss you.

you didn’t know how but you were straddling him now, lazily as the kiss turned from gentle to a little deeper. he let out a low moan in response, his grip on your waist tightening as you rolled your hips against him. one of his hands dropped from your hip to rest on your thigh, spreading your legs further apart in an attempt to get you even closer to him.

his tongue swiped between your parted lips, finding its way into your mouth and exploring every inch of it. he was becoming more and more desperate, and he tried his best to contain it by biting your bottom lip. when you felt his hips shift upward you let out a soft breath against his mouth, and you tried to roll your own hips in time with his, tilting your head to get an even deeper angle on our kiss.

the whine that left you as he bit your lip sent shivers up his spine, his breath hitting your face in a low pant as his hands fell to your ass, squeezing it firmly in his palms. he was still trying to maintain some control, but you were making it difficult.

he tried to keep up with your kisses as best as he could, his hips bucking against yours as the friction between you two became more prominent. he moaned against your mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself as much against him as possible.

“s—sorry..” you breathed through a chuckle, pulling back with a shy smile, licking your kiss-swollen, bruised lips, now all puffed up and slick with his spit.

calum could only stare up at you through half-lidded eyes as you chuckled, breathing heavily with his chest rising and falling quickly. jesus, even your breaths made him dizzy.

“you’re an idiot,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to wipe the saliva off the corner of his mouth, taking in how flustered you looked on top of him. he reached under you, bringing his fingers to the waistband of your sleep shorts, gripping the fabric between his fingers.

he gulped at the pressure of you straddling him, your hand pressed down on his lower abdomen as his head fell back against the pillow behind him with a grunt. his grip on your shorts became even more tight as his breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“you don’t even know what you do to me..” he murmured, his hands nearly shaking as he pulled the waistband of your shorts to the side and felt around for your clit. “you ruin me, baby.”

“c—calum, shit,” your hips jerked as his thumb pressed against the sensitive area, your fingers curling into his shirt, holding on tight. the look of adorable sexual frustration on your face was making him dizzy. he could feel how worked up you were, which only made him feel even more desperate.

his fingers then slid lower, finding your entrance. “you’re soaked,” he murmured, his tone thick with both adoration and lust as he pressed his index finger to your entrance. he groaned. “so wet.. all f’me, princess, yeah?”

“shit,” you breathed at the sensation, body tensing, and calum’s eyes rolled slightly as he felt his finger getting swallowed by your tight walls. as he slipped his finger inside of you, he wasted no time in picking up a slow but deep rhythm. calum was a mix of incredibly desperate and completely focused, trying to keep his balance between getting you going and not losing himself just yet.

as he pressed his finger deeper into you, he let out a shaky breath, struggling to try and find his words. “you’re—shit,” he groaned, feeling you clench around his finger. “you’re so perfect. so unbelievably perfect.” his eyes were still closed, his head still thrown back against the pillow.

“y’think so?” you all but whimpered, rolling your hips on instinct as his finger pressed deeper inside your gummy walls. your fingers finally let go of his shirt, smoothing out the fabric from the wrinkles caused by you. you then caught your bottom lip between your teeth, unable to meet his eyes as he fingered you.

“so perfect,” he moaned once more, finding himself unable to stop repeating himself. his thumb pressed into your clit, adding the slightest bit of pressure while he continued to curl his finger inside of you. his free hand gripped your thigh, practically digging his fingers into your skin.

his chest was heaving as his breath picked up, his eyes still squeezed shut and his head still thrown back. his hand worked faster, faster, his heart speeding up and his brain turning fuzzy.

“you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he repeated again.

“fuck, m’gonna cum,” you hiccuped at the overwhelming sensations, breathing coming in faster, faster, faster. the noises you made and the obscene sounds of your soaked pussy was almost too much for him, his fingers picking up their speed without even realizing.

his head was still thrown back, his cheeks red and his chest rising and falling rapidly. at this point his brain was completely mush. “fuck,” he breathed, his grip on you becoming even tighter. “please . please cum for me, baby.”

“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, cumming around his fingers with a soft squeak, your hand swatting at his chest as your body shook on top of him. he moaned loudly, feeling you clench around his fingers. you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, absolutely and utterly wrecked on top of him. he could never get enough of this sight. he watched you through half-lidded eyes, his fingers remaining inside you as he waited for you to come down from your high.

his free hand slid up to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together with his and holding your hand firmly. he was still breathing heavily, his heart rate not settling down at all. he let out a small whine as he looked up at you.

“you’re beautiful,”

[ratsbanes]

I love it when bsd crossover fanfiction say "and abilities are only in Yokohama" or something. When... most of the cast is not from Yokohama?

The decay of angels (including fukuchi, I don't think we know where he's from)? Not from yokohama

The guild? Not from yokohama

Mimic? Not from yokohama

The order of the clock tower? Not from yokohama

Even some of the agency and port mafia.

Dazai? There's implications that, just like the author, he's from northern more rural Japan. Probably not from yokohama.

Kenji? He *is* from northern more rural Japan. Not from yokohama.

Ranpo? We don't know where he's from, but he mentions traveling away from his home city, so not from yokohama.

Atsushi? Similar to Ranpo, we don't really know where he's from but it's, say it with me, probably not from yokohama.

Chuuya? Has an entire arc about how he's not from yokohama.

Most of the cast is not from yokohama, so it's just such a weird story choice? But my god is it funny.

[verdart]

Okay we did make a bit of a map so here is the full picture

John has to have full control over the 3rd (oculomotor), 4th (trochlear) and 6th (abducense) cranial nerve in order to move the eyes. Basically oculomotor nuclei. Along with the aforementioned primary visual cortex.

He has to have full somatosensory and motor control of the hand and the leg at a cortical level, i dont think spinal level makes sense since the same pathway would be still used targetting a different myelomere.

Think of it as a building okay. You have the upper management at the top level and you have two elevators. One starts at the left side of the building and goes to the right the other does the opposite. Thats your spino-cortical pathway. The different floors are your myelomeres slices of the spine if you will. So imagine the left leg is at the bottom floor and left hand is at 15th floor. You still need to use the same elevator but management for the left hand is in the hand office on the right side of the building and the left leg is in the leg office on the right side. So john has the office not the elevator. (If we are trying to be scientific he could also be wering arthurs left hand like a glove or puppeting it but now its neuroanatomy time)

These are the things we believe he has full control on. Now on to the estate he shares with arthur.

8th cranial nerve along with the auditory are of the temporal lobe. This he shares bc hhim and arthur can both hear, he can also speak to arthur from inside his head aka he doesnt need to have control over the entire pathway just the cortex is enough. But he still needs arthur to think outloud bc he is at the auditory area. Now I dont think he is in wernickes are just because i think johns cognitive function works independently of arthurs physical brain. (Wernicke's are is responsible for comprehension of language)

They share the thalamus and 2nd (olfactory) cranial nerve. I almost forgot this but my friend reminded me that john was able to smell stuff in the dreamlands which means he need to have that pathway available to him.

You could argue he actually doesn't need the cns just having the related cortex is enough and to be fair i agree but it was a good study of some cranials for me. Like i feel the oculomotor, abducense and trochlear can be summed up to superior colliculus. Idk tho im grtting tired

Okay i am studying cortical regions and i came to primary visual area (brodmann 17) V1 and im reading about cortical blindness and it made me go ahh arthur lester.

So hear me out, head cannon time. What if John does not have his hand hand: he has his right motor cortex for his hand left motor cortex for his leg (also somatosensory) and his primary visual are. He has parts of Arthurs brain.

So something funny about cortical blindness is that the pathway between the retina and the amygdala and limbic system are intact. So if you tried to punch Arthur he can dodge as long as his amygdala perceives it as danger. This explains to me all the “here”s and “arthur be careful” or “arthur run”s the man cant see but he can sense the danger.

The only thing that is not in line with this hc is that he knows he cant see, which is something cortical blindness patients usually dont acknowledge. Like they will make up what they see based on other stimuli. But if you knew Arthur was blind and asked him what he sees and he responds with what John says bc he thinks you dont know he is blind then yeah I would diagnose cortical blindness not peripheral…

I should send this to my friend who tried to diagnose him in season 5. Was so sure it was tuberculosis (same). Being med students and listening malevolent is an experience.