#tying my books together is one of my most fun pastimes

[andillwriteyouatragedy]

writing sometimes means hyper-fixating on creating a family tree for hours and forgetting anything else exists. in fact most of writing is a lot like this

[koscheimaryas]

DANTEWILLOW BRAINROT my muse showing off new lingerie to yours personally ❤️

showtime ─ starring dante and willow

Few things made for pleasant enough surprises for Dante those days. As someone so used to having everything he wanted exactly when he wanted, he soon realized how things got boring quickly, unattainable dreams for so many people becoming mere amenities to such a blessed person like him. Contrary to what the smallest parcel of the world thought, money could buy anything. That was the reason why Choi saw himself surrounded by all types of cliques on a daily basis, the ones he thought to be desperate tryhards, all begging to bask on his richness and poise, his very own shining sun. Getting his attention was already hard enough, but being able to maintain it throughout the days that followed was even worse. The exception to every rule, however, was always fun enough to look after. Dante Choi knew an exception when he saw one.

Going after Willow had never been much of a hassle. His fellow classmate took it upon her to feel personally offended by the fact that she had never been graced by his attention, and was fast enough to make amends with that notion. As curiosity got the best of him, Dante did a good enough job by giving the girl the slightest hint of interest, just what he needed to have her tailing around him for a few days. His newest addiction, however, was not what he expected to be. Pastimes like her quickly lost their flame, yet Kim’s wit and elegance made him want to stick around, to understand what she was made of. Choi soon saw himself breaking unspoken rules for her by keeping her by his arm whenever, by letting her sleep on his bed and uncover the centurial mysteries of his estate. Apart from himself, the British girl was the only other person to ever grace his blood red satin bed sheets, and the only one he ever saw himself letting there. 

As time passed by, Dante and Willow soon found themselves falling into a comfortable routine, hunting their own prey and sharing their war spoils whenever it seemed fit. Whenever he pulled, she pushed, always reminding her of her true duties and being reminded just the same of his own. Kim proved herself to be a jealous, nasty little thing, one he took it upon himself to punish as he liked, never letting her forget what was at stake. As comedic as it was, possession still pulsed through his veins, rattling his mind and getting him blind for anything but her. Whatever strong effect she contained, it sure worked perfectly on Choi, so easily bewitched and amused for the first time in his life. It was hardly a hassle to keep those bottomless dark eyes away from his mind, or those elegantly drawn features, so ingrained in his thoughts. 

It was yet another weekend away from academy, the brutal winter calling for desperate measures as Dante and his usual companion made their way to his estate. There, cocooned in the warmth of his gigantic bedroom, he ignored the snow that fell relentlessly on his windows, distracted by whatever book he found lying around near his bed. Willow, unusually, was nowhere to be found, as she always seemed to be unable to stay away from him whenever they were within ten feet of each other. It wasn’t until Choi diverted his stare from the page he had just read that he realized where his girl had disappeared to; lounging around the threshold, unfazed by the chilling wind that swept the mansion, Willow Kim stood, magnificent on nothing but a three-pieced lingerie the color of his sheets. 

There was no turning back from that stare, no ignoring what stood in front of him. The British girl, as Dante always thought, was a living, breathing work of art. It rattled him how she seemed to find even the most interesting new ways to pass the time when both locked themselves inside that empty manor, resorting to what she knew would distract him best: her own body. Her delicate bones and winding curves looked otherworldly in what seemed to be a very expensive, very tiny stretch of lace, just enough to cover the places he would end up uncovering himself. The ice cold marble floor and disgraceful chill that enveloped the house didn’t seem to matter to her as she walked around his room, displaying the beautiful set for his eyes only. “Interesting pick of attire,” he pointed out after staring at her for what it seemed to be hours, a wolfish grin stretching his full lips. Tossing the now abandoned book aside, Choi made himself comfortable on his bed, fingers crossed behind his head and his entire posture relaxed against the gigantic bedpost. “Got any other stuff to show me? I have time to spare. And you, too, as it seems.”

Dante took it upon him to get Willow to display all her lingerie collection for at least an hour. As she came and went from his bedroom, always with a new piece covering her body and always just as delicate, he felt his patience slowly slipping away, like slivers of sand in an hourglass. By the time she got back with a beautiful, maddening black frill, complete with thigh high sheer stockings, he knew there were no other undergarments he wanted to see on her. With a nod of his head, he got up, slowly making his way to where she stood in the center of the room, guiding her back to his bed. “I think I’ve seen enough.” Hastily pushing her on top of the mattress, Choi loomed over her, a dangerous threat shining inside his dark eyes. There was no other way that made his classmate look more beautiful than there, thrown atop his sheets, long limbs and delicious curves he knew better than anyone else, like a meal served on a silver platter. Just for him.

“I’d make you take off these socks and put them back on a hundred times if I could, but I have a feeling that my patience has been running short.” Feigning boredom, he sighed tiredly, fingering the top of the elastic of her stockings and taking pure joy on watching her skin rise with goosebumps just with his slightest touch. As he dragged the fabric down, one leg after the other, he laughed quietly as the most brilliant thought crossed his mind, beaming at Willow and at the fact that she always got the best - or worst - out of him. When it came to them, he never knew what to think of it. “But don’t you just love it when I lose it, Willy?” Stretching one of the pairs in his hands, Choi unadvisedly brought Willow’s hands together, tying them up with the lithe material as tightly as he could atop of her head. That sure was a vision he wouldn’t forget so soon; as much as he loved to see that girl fight for her pride, getting her to surrender forcefully still took first place on his list. “You’re always driving me so fucking mad.”

The rest was a series of steps both knew how to follow by heart. Dragging her to the center of his bed, Dante made sure no centimeter of fabric was forgotten by his mouth, latching onto the sheer lace before almost ripping it off of her body in a display of impatience that wasn’t unusual, not even in the slightest. Not even his hurriedness, however, kept him from enjoying Willow to the fullest. She was a thing to be adored, lavished, ravaged to the point of no return. As her breathy moans filled the room and left no space for his thoughts to bloom, Choi understood the reason why the girl had stuck. There wasn’t anyone else that would ever hurt as beautifully as she did.

[theroyalwords]

Something Wanted, A Hale/Ean One-Shot

Allrighty folks! Here’s that one shot. I know a few people asked about it yesterday ( I’ll tag down below). Enjoy!

​Hale rolled over, tucking the pillow against him. One glance at the clock revealed that he'd been tossing and turning for well over an hour now. True sleep seemed like a distant memory the past couple of weeks. With all the stress, the expectations... there was just too much on his mind.

There was no point in Hale trying to sleep; his mind was too wound up. He climbed out of bed and threw on his robe, carefully tying it. A good, hot cup of chai tea always calmed him after his father died. That, along with some mindless sketching, usually did the trick.

Hale stepped out into the hall, the palace quiet so late at night. Most of the staff were asleep this time of night. He ran into one guard on the way to the kitchen, who gave a courteous nod as he passed. It was almost a nightly thing now, his trek to the kitchen. Hale knew exactly where everything was, how long it would take for him to boil the water. His tea would be perfectly steeped by the time he made it back to his room. In less than ten minutes, he was already on his way back, ready to sketch.

Hale paused on the stairs, sighing deeply. His sketchpad was still in the men's parlor on the first floor, where he was working before dinner. Hale changed course, heading towards the parlor. Soft moonlight streamed through the windows, the light bright in the clear night. The city lights blocked out all but the brightest of stars. The way the light looked against the night sky, the soft, dark greens of the trees against the inky blue of the sky, was beautiful. Hale wondered if he could make a fabric that looked like that, for a dress or a well -tailored suit. The dark navy and green would look fantastic in a tweed. He opened the parlor door, his thoughts lost in fabric and cuts.

"Someone is up late."

The voice startled Hale, making him jump. He steadied himself on a side-table, taking deep breaths to calm his heart. In the far corner, looking perfectly at ease with artfully messy caramel colored hair, sat Ean Cabel. There was a book situated in his hands, his finger marking what page he was on.

"Thanks for terrifying me," Hale countered, moving to grab his sketchbook. It was across the room, sitting on the bottom shelf of the small table by the chair he normally sat in. Now that there were less people here, it seemed the remaining selected had all chosen their spots in the room. Strangely, Ean's was right across from his. Both were near the window, Hale's facing it. The garden view provided inspiration when he was lacking. He leaned down to grab the book, along with a few of his pencils.

"Just use to being in here by myself this late, I guess," Ean mused before going back to his book. "You are welcome to stay, if you like. I promise, you won't bother me."

"Good to know."

Hale turned to leave, his materials tucked under his arm. He paused halfway to the door, turning back to glance over his shoulder. Ean was back to reading his book, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Really, the lighting was better in here, the windows larger and perfectly positioned for the moonlight. It was bright enough that the soft light from Ean's reading lamp seemed to pale in comparison. Hale wandered back over to his seat, getting comfortable before opening his pad. He didn't know why, but something felt oddly intimate sitting in the parlor alone with Ean. What bothered Hale even more was that it wasn't uncomfortable. He worked on a new sketch for a while, trying to sort the thoughts in his head.

He liked Eadlyn, a lot, and despite the prodding of Carrie, he just couldn't say he loved her or that he could. Yet, he was still in the selection, still a viable candidate as her Prince Consort. Could he be happy if she chose him? Something just didn't feel right. There was something missing, yet what could possibly be missing from a girl like her, a Princess? He didn't feel any more romantic feelings towards her than Carrie. Everyone, all of his friends, his parents, kept saying that Carrie and him belonged together. Hale didn't feel like he could ever belong together with anyone. If he couldn't make things work with a Princess or Carrie-

"I thought drawing was a quiet pastime."

Hale broke his pencil against the paper, groaning. Ean continued to read his book, a teasing grin on his face.

"Normally it is." Hale set the broken pencil to the side, picking up a spare. He continued to work on his drawing, taking a quick gulp of his tea. He did, however, try to be quieter.

"So, what are you drawing?" Ean sat his book on the table, eyeing Hale in interest.

"What are you reading?" Hale retorted. Ean held up the book, the title too far away to read.

"Treasure Island. Really old book, but one of my favorites."

Hale didn't think Ean would answer. Normally, he kept to himself for the most part, didn't interact much with the other Selected. "Um, clothes, mostly. I like designing them." Hale fidgeted with his hair, brushing it back out of his face.

"I've heard. I have no sense of fashion. Thank god they have people here to dress us."

"I always kind of liked your style. Seemed classic to me," Hale remarked. Ean chuckled and shook his head.

"It's just what I like. Do…do you show people your designs?"

Hale answered with a tentative smile and handed the book to Ean. He studied the page Hale had worked on for a few minutes before moving back to the first page. He took his time, carefully examining each page before moving on to the next. For some reason, Hale's heart began to pound, wondering if Ean would like it.

"You have serious talent, Hale." He remarked with a slow grin. "Your eye for color is impeccable."

"Thanks." An unwilling blush spread across Hale's cheeks, one he hid by taking another sip of his tea. "So what do you do for fun? Besides read really old books and brood in silence?"

Ean laughed. "I don't brood."

"You do. I think you might have said more words to me tonight than you ever have here."

"Maybe everyone else doesn't interest me." Ean let the comment hang in the air. Hale's breath caught, not sure how to respond. "And I like to ride horses."

They talked for hours, about everything and nothing at all. Hale learned that Ean liked Mexican food and snow. His family raised horses and other animals. The more they talked, the more Hale realized that Ean just wasn't an open person. He wasn't stuck up or purposefully brooding, just shy. He was actually…kind of funny. Snarky, but not in a condemning or oppressing way. His quiet nature allowed him to see so much more than the average person. He was perceptive and smart. Plus, the way that his smirk would tilt to the side, like he was laughing at himself, before growing to a full blow smile was endearing beyond anything Hale had ever seen. He glanced at the clock, noting it was just past three in the morning.

"Do you think you'd have moments like this if you are a King?" Ean wondered. "Moments to just stay up late and do whatever you want?"

"I don't know," Hale murmured. "The way Eadlyn talks, it seems a lot more difficult than she or the Report likes to let on."

Ean leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "She needs someone who can support her, who can help her handle the weight when it gets too much."

"She can do it," Hale countered, defensive of his friend.

"I know she can. She's driven and capable. But everyone needs help sometimes. You need someone in your corner, no matter what."

Hale nodded his head. He often wished he had that. Everyone always had something to say about what they thought he needed. Why couldn't they just give him time to figure it out for himself? "Did you mean that? On the report? About just looking for a partner?"

Ean's eyes seemed to dim a little before answering. "Yeah, I did."

"Why?" Hale asked. "I mean, do you not want to find someone, fall in love? Do you not want to be happy?" Ean's answer felt tied to his own. If this person, who seemed so deserving of happiness, had no hope, how could he?

Ean turned towards him, a vulnerable look in his eyes. He searched Hale's face like he could hear the myriad of thoughts in his head. "Because it doesn't matter if I want to be happy or not. There's…" Ean sighed deeply before facing the window. "It's just not going to happen for me. I've made peace with it, and I'll try to be as happy as I can."

"Why not?" Hale leaned forward. There was only about an inch of space between their knees. When Ean shifted, Hale felt his elbow brush his. Ean turned his head, their faces close enough that Hale could feel his breath against his face.

"You can be happy, Hale. Eadlyn seems to really like you."

Hale wanted to tell him. He would have said anything to take that look out of his eyes. "I don't like her. I mean, I like her, but not like that."

"What do you like?"

The moment was breathless. It didn't matter that the steady intake of air in Hale's lungs came one after another. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The only thought he had was of Ean's warm brown eyes staring into his own, the irises ringed in gold.

Then, Ean kissed him.

At first, Hale was surprised. He froze, unsure, but the pressure of Hale's hands on his cheeks, the steady, sure way he kissed him, was better than any kiss he'd ever had. Ean pulled away, upmost terror in his eyes.

"I'm…oh, I'm so sor-"

Hale didn't let him finish. He pulled Ean close, wanting to feel that kiss again. It was more important than a want; it was a need. He needed to feel his lips, taste them. Hale need to keep his fingers laced in Ean's hair, hear the soft sigh of happiness in between the kisses. This moment could play on repeat, over and over again, and it still wouldn't be enough.

After a moment, Ean pulled away, a look of wonder in his eyes. Both were breathing deeply, a sparkle in their eyes that wasn't there before. Hale knew what it could mean getting caught as they were, they kind of life they would be subjected to, but it didn't matter.

Hale finally found something he wanted.

Please like or reblog! Thanks for reading! :)

@eadlynschreaveofillea @gennylovesfandoms @not-your-dear @prince-consort-erik