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#enchanted tales a kingdom of kindness
katlimeart · 2 years
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Made in 2016, 2018 + 2022
If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.
Peach cosplaying as Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)
1 - 3. Sleeping Beauty (1959)
4. Sofia the First
5. Disney Princess: Enchanted Tales: A Kingdom of Kindness (unreleased)
6 + 7. Disney Princess: Enchanted Tales: Keys to the Kingdom
8 - 10. Maleficent (2014)
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yoonia · 6 days
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Ever A Never After: Act 1
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⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it
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⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea
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⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢
⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion
⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After
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Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…
A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune. 
Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together. 
It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.
With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories. 
The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky. 
But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom. 
For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it. 
There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells. 
Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.
It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss. 
Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss. 
Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself. 
And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true. 
What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to. 
The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories. 
An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.
Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive. 
As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room. 
Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber. 
Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work. 
The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation. 
Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful. 
Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.” 
A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.” 
Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way. 
Blossom.
Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with. 
You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below. 
“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts. 
“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight. 
“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.” 
Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet. 
With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.
With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them. 
“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory. 
“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating. 
“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.” 
“A dream?” 
“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream. 
“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!” 
With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.” 
With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.” 
The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right. 
The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles. 
The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now. 
The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles. 
Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them. 
A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance. 
A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket. 
“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream. 
“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?” 
“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.
“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower. 
“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.” 
A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it. 
“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends. 
With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.” 
“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest. 
“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?” 
Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?” 
Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas. 
“How about some fresh flower petals?” 
“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!” 
“Berries?” 
“How about red chilli peppers?” 
The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy. 
But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.
“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.” 
“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”
Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom. 
You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming. 
“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.” 
That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom. 
“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin. 
Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again. 
“I’m coming, Nana!” 
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The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.
This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by. 
Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams. 
And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do. 
“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?” 
There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom. 
The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day. 
Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.
Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.
It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.  
The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground. 
The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll. 
After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues. 
“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.
“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”
After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation. 
Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud. 
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.” 
“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince. 
Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.” 
With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.” 
You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after. 
You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place. 
“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves. 
It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born. 
She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.  
Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all. 
Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near. 
“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.  
Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality. 
Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods. 
Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest. 
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On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.
Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil. 
The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets. 
The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles. 
As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance. 
Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them. 
“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind. 
“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.” 
The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.
“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”
“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.
“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!” 
To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”
“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more. 
“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.” 
Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.
“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!” 
“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop. 
“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.” 
Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further. 
Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.  
“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words. 
“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”
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“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!” 
For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening. 
One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers. 
The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you. 
At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you. 
“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!” 
With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature. 
Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”
“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly. 
Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed. 
Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back. 
“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why. 
“But it’s for Nana!”
Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!” 
As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain. 
It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it. 
As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet. 
“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do. 
“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.
Right there. 
Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape. 
Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below. 
“Hold on, Poppy!” 
Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left. 
“Aahhh, Blossom!” 
“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder. 
Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned. 
“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon. 
Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you. 
Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away. 
In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move. 
“Come on, ________!” 
Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly. 
From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away. 
You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you. 
And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer. 
You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake. 
You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it. 
That is how you miss your footing. 
Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over. 
“Aaahhh!!” 
“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!” 
“I’m trying!”
While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!” 
You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out. 
“No! Keep your hands off of her!” 
All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll. 
As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it. 
And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles. 
But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason. 
Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?” 
“That’s—” 
There is no way.  
Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing. 
Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream. 
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“Hang on! Stay where you are!”
The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on. 
He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel? 
Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you. 
“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache. 
With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.” 
A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded. 
Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer. 
Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top. 
Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly. 
The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff. 
Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree. 
Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip. 
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A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height. 
You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time. 
Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight. 
You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks. 
But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.” 
Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest. 
A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you. 
And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you. 
It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence. 
All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes. 
“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself. 
Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider. 
As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,
“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” 
He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.” 
An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach. 
And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you. 
It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams. 
Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”  
“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.” 
“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?” 
Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger. 
Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle. 
You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince. 
He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?” 
Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—” 
“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.
You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince. 
“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.” 
“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap. 
“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll. 
The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!” 
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After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness. 
“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him. 
Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places. 
As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence. 
But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. 
Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much. 
“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.” 
Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.” 
“Ah, I see.” 
Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.
“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?” 
Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.” 
He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.” 
You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.” 
The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?” 
Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?” 
Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.” 
“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.” 
“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse. 
Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?” 
With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?” 
You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?” 
“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.” 
You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech. 
“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.” 
The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”
“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—” 
Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.  
“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?” 
You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her. 
But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!
With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.” 
Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”
“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”  
Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon. 
But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after. 
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Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime. 
“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother. 
Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?” 
Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.” 
Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.” 
“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.  
“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier. 
“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?” 
Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.” 
“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?” 
“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.
Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature. 
“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.” 
Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction. 
“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?” 
“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?” 
“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.” 
Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish. 
It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom. 
“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.” 
Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit. 
She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up. 
Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.” 
Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name. 
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At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude. 
Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people. 
By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook. 
As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber. 
“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before. 
“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.” 
Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.” 
This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?” 
Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.” 
All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?” 
The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.
After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain. 
The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green. 
The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”
Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples. 
The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen. 
The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms. 
The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother. 
Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.
Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—” 
“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering. 
“Y-your Majesty?” 
Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother. 
“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before. 
“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?” 
The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water. 
“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?” 
Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening. 
“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.” 
The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.
He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.
“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear. 
“My-my Queen? What do you mean?” 
Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!” 
“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—” 
The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage. 
Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—
Now it’s too late. 
When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut. 
How? How could this be?
Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face. 
The face that she wishes so desperately to forget. 
“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice. 
“My Queen? What—what do you mean?” 
Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear. 
“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away. 
Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.” 
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The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even. 
Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination. 
Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.
“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.” 
Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing. 
“Oh, my!” 
Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.” 
The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you. 
Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real. 
That you are now standing right in front of the castle. 
The castle.
The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding. 
And it will be your wedding. 
It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom. 
Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage. 
Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress. 
Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.
The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip. 
The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember. 
From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.  
From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle. 
Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight. 
Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince. 
“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage. 
“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.
“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head. 
“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.  
Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?” 
Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision. 
Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go. 
“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”
You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.
“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.” 
“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.” 
Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.” 
Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!” 
Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away. 
“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!” 
Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.
At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would. 
A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.” 
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?” 
Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.” 
Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal. 
“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.” 
Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”
While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.” 
“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?” 
Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down. 
“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?” 
Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.” 
Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.” 
“Oh, right! Absolutely.” 
Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden. 
“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again. 
With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held. 
While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she? 
She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation. 
Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?” 
The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.” 
The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries. 
Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away. 
They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket. 
The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.
“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens. 
“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?” 
Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.” 
Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here. 
“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back. 
Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild. 
“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?” 
“What are you planning to do?” 
Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt. 
“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing. 
Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests. 
“Nooooo!” 
“Blossom!” 
Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them. 
“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?” 
Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.” 
With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind. 
“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden. 
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At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost. 
It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go. 
While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses. 
Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right? 
But speaking of Sir Noah—
I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they? 
You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon. 
Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby. 
The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.
“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises. 
“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 
Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground. 
“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.” 
The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.” 
Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly. 
“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh. 
“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then. 
“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.
Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier. 
“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.” 
It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt. 
“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.
“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything. 
“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.” 
“My—wish?” 
“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?” 
“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”
Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.
“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”
“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.” 
“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind. 
It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier. 
“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.  
And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.
“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before. 
The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere. 
Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden. 
The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home. 
The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water. 
The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before. 
The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away. 
There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time. 
The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home. 
Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it. 
Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.
Just like a spell would. 
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At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.
She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin. 
Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.
Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding. 
The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?
Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.
On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden. 
Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden. 
It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention. 
“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!” 
When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier. 
“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away. 
Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you. 
“No! ________!” 
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The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer. 
But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain. 
“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks, 
“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.” 
“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.” 
Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.
“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”
All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades. 
Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne. 
Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating. 
“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?” 
A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.” 
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⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!
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— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
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wheeboo · 7 months
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venus | choi seungcheol
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SYNOPSIS. in which the love between you and the prince is forbidden. PAIRING. prince!choi seungcheol x servant-commoner!reader (ft. servant-commoner!chan very briefly) GENRE. fluff, angst with a hopeful ending?, forbidden love, royalty au, arranged marriage au (cheol is in an arranged marriage), established secret relationship WARNINGS. cheol and reader both have a lil argument, terms of endearment (darling, love, sweetheart), kissing WORD COUNT. 3.8k
note: fic is vaguely inspired by the bridge part of this song called "venus" by regina song 🫶💕 this is also my first time writing a royalty au, so i hope you enjoy! this also features the very iconic "you came" "you called" line 😭
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The ballroom of Pledis Palace is charged with an air of enchantment. The time had just reached the peak of evening. Moonlight filters through the large, grand windows, bathing the open room in an ethereal glow. Along the sides of the ballroom are intricately carved golden marble columns, each one painted with a different tale of the kingdom's past.
In the middle of the ceiling sits a majestic chandelier hanging from a massive, golden chain. The piece is the crown jewel of the ballroom, one that easily draws visitors into all its glory and beauty, and it casts a radiant gleam that seemed to rain down like stardust upon the guests below.
The dance floor reflects the light from the chandelier, creating an illusion of stars twinkling at one's feet. You watch all the elegantly-dressed guests move with grace across the room. The women are all dressed with precise attention to detail, their gowns and jewelry like works of art on a canvas. Some wear dresses in shades of amethyst, emerald, and sapphire, embroidered with beautiful beadwork that glistens like constellations, while others prefer flowing gowns in delicate pastels, as if they've stepped out of a fairytale.
They all hold onto their partners𑁋lavish gentlemen dressed in sophistically tailored suits matching the colours of their ladies' gowns𑁋with utmost love and enjoyment, while you find yourself standing at the side, holding up a tray of drinks as a particular heaviness settles in your chest.
And as your eyes drift ever so slightly, you swear that regardless what direction you look in, he's always there at the end of it, like a light at the end of the tunnel. Yet the light this time was dim and lacked almost all the hope that used to be there when you looked at him.
Not only is the royal family of Pledis here, but also a second one. The Choi royal family of Pledis, and of course, the future in-laws.
Prince Choi Seungcheol is dancing with poise that appeared almost effortless, eyes locked in a tender gaze to his future betrothed, yet the smile to his face doesn't quite reach his eyes. It's the same kind of gaze during the times he would be with you, like in the secret corners of the royal garden that only the two of you knew, or in the times you both snuck out of the castle at the wee hours of the night to stargaze, or the intimate nights you spent with him in his quarters where you had to leave just before daybreak.
It's those times where the certain line between nobility and commoner could be momentarily blurred. It's those times where you both truly felt free in more ways than one.
As you continue to watch the dance and see the way he twirls his betrothed with ease, the world seems to blur, and it felt as if it was just you and Seungcheol in this grand ballroom. His eyes, so familiar yet so distant, meet yours in a fleeting moment. His face falls instantly.
The world and time may have pulled you apart, but in that stolen glance, you were brought back together. In your eyes, you saw the prince who had defied tradition and chosen to be with you without boundaries. In his eyes, he saw the commoner who had been his confidant and, more importantly, his secret love.
"Why are you just standing there? Go tend to your duties," the steward advises you annoyedly, snapping you out of your focus. With a start, you fix your posture, offering a quick nod of understanding to the stern-faced steward.
Hastily, you resume your duty, walking through the large crowd, presenting the tray of drinks and feeling their odd looks linger on you as you move past them. They're taunting you, not with words, but with their subtle, condescending glances. The weight in your chest only deepens with each step you take.
You reach the outskirts of the dance floor, casting another glance towards Seungcheol. His elegant moves and the seemingly affectionate way he held his betrothed gives a bittersweet feeling to your chest, and you can't help but briefly imagine yourself there with him instead𑁋being the one at the end of his smile, the end of his touch.
As the music swelled, the dance finally comes to an end. You watch as the prince gracefully leads his betrothed back to her seat, a warm smile on his face. You know he didn't have much of a choice. He had an obligation to the kingdom, to his family, and to the future over the love he had once whispered to you in the hidden corners of the royal gardens.
Your heart aches again, but you understand. You couldn't be a part of his world, no matter how much he cared for you.
You don't catch the way his eyes follow you once you dismiss yourself out of the ballroom, struggling to hold your tears back.
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"Y/N, don't you think you overwatered this area right here?" Chan, a fellow gardener for the royal garden and closest friend, taps lightly on your shoulder, startling you out of your daze and nearly the watering can in your hands. You blink rapidly, bringing yourself back to the present.
All you manage is a weak smile, some embarrassment and guilt flooding your senses. "Sorry, I... I guess my mind was elsewhere."
He gives you a knowing look, gaze sympathetic yet encouraging. "It's okay. I know things haven't been the best recently." He gestures toward the grand castle behind you, its towers standing tall and proud. You know exactly what he's talking about, and it makes you let out a sigh, facing back towards the garden in front of you.
You've poured your heart into the royal garden for so long, finding comfort in its quiet beauty and the therapeutic rhythm of tending to its blooms from day to night.
As the sun dips below the horizon and the moon begins to rise, the garden transforms into a world of magic. The abundance of flowers surrounding you seem to glow vibrantly under the moonlight, and their scent becomes more rich in the cool night air. The air carries a gentle breeze, and the soft rustle of leaves soothes your troubled mind.
There was just something about simply being with nature𑁋in the royal garden and with the beauty that exists outside its walls𑁋that allows you to breathe more freely. Sometimes, you swear that even the flowers are capable of whispering words of their own, as if sharing stories with you alone, or stories that you used to listen to with one particular man.
Just as you're about to finish watering one last final section, you hear Chan's distant voice from afar.
"Y-Your Highness! What brings you here at this hour?"
You freeze in place, the almost-empty watering can slipping from your fingers as you turn around.
Prince Seungcheol stands at the edge of the garden, his gracious figure silhouetted against the moonlit scenery. He's dressed in his nighttime attire, a pair of simple yet elegant black trousers and a crisp white shirt that flows slightly in the cool breeze. His gaze flickers between you and Chan, a hint of curiosity in his expression, and the two of you both offer a respectful bow in his direction as he approaches.
"I just wanted some fresh air," Seungcheol answers sharply, locking his eyes with yours, and there's a small smile that graces his lips once he catches sight of you. "It's peaceful here in the garden, isn't it?"
You heart only flutters to his words, yet that arrow of sadness pierces through your chest. However, even below the auroral skies and with the intoxicating fragrance of flowers all around, your heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.
"Chan, you may excuse us for a moment." He gestures to the young boy, his voice carrying a warm, reassuring tone that you've longed to hear.
With a quick nod, Chan offers a polite bow, shooting you a glance before slipping his way back in the direction of the castle, leaving you alone with Seungcheol.
Seungcheol approaches you, the distance between you decreasing until you're standing just a breath away from each other. You both remain in a contemplative silence, neither of you wanting to break the fragile moment that has been rekindled after so long.
Finally, he speaks in a hushed tone. "You've been avoiding me."
Your gaze is quick to fall to the ground in guilt, unable to meet his eyes.
"You know I had to," You reply simply, voice barely more than a whisper. "We can't be together, Cheol. You should know this better than me. It was the only choice you had. Duty called, and you answered."
Seungcheol's face only contorts with a mix of anguish and frustration. "Duty? Duty won't keep me warm at night, Y/N. Duty won't make me feel alive. You are what my heart longs for. You should know this. This is all purely arranged, don't you remember?"
You let out an audible scoff, feeling your hands crumple into fists at your side. "You're being selfish right now. Think about the kingdom, your family, and the future you're meant to build. Don't you see why we can't... we can't be together? It's inevitable. We shouldn't..." Your find your voice drifting away, words getting caught in your throat.
He steps even closer, his frustration boiling over into desperation. "I am thinking about them. I think about them every day, but I... I can't stop thinking about you either. I can't stop loving you."
"This love won't feed the hungry, Seungcheol. This love won't protect our people. This love won't secure the kingdom's future. This love won't change the fact that I'm merely a commoner and you're a prince."
The moonlight accentuates the sadness in his eyes as your words sink in, and you find yourself unable to hold back the tears that have welled up. The two of you only stand there for a few long moments, simply gazing in each other's glassy eyes, feeling like the garden itself was holding in a breath of its own.
Then in a sudden moment of vulnerability, you step closer to him, resting your head against his chest, taking in his familiar warmth and the scent you've longed for as your tears stain his shirt. Seungcheol wraps you in his strong arms, pulling you closer, and you feel his heartbeat against your body, steady and comforting. It's a sound you've always loved listening to whenever you embraced each other.
"I've missed you, darling," he mutters quietly. "Don't you understand how much you mean to me?"
With his arms around you, you feel a warmth that fills the void in your heart. It's a sensation you've yearned for the past few torturous months.
"I-I've missed you too," You confess, voice trembling. "But... but we can't𑁋"
"Please," he pleads softly, tightening his hold around you. "Can't I just hold you?"
The tenderness his voice holds cuts you off, and you can't help the way your fingers instinctively knead at his shirt.
Seungcheol holds you tightly, as if he's afraid that letting go will make you vanish into thin air. In this fleeting moment, there's no kingdom to rule, no traditions to uphold𑁋just the two of you, reunited in an embrace that disregards the confines of your roles. It's as if the world beyond this secluded royal garden has ceased to exist, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly alive.
"I love you," he murmurs, voice heavy with sorrow, his lips brushing against your hair. "I love you more than anything in this world."
Usually that particularly intimate exchange brings those flutters to your stomach and a giddy smile to your face, but instead, it only makes your heart throb. Though you know with every fibre in your body that it's true𑁋that you love each other. It's not a secret, nor a feeling to deny.
You find yourself pulling away slightly, angling your head up to be able to take a look at him. His gaze meets yours halfway, and the intensity in his dark pupils nearly takes your breath away. He searches your eyes for a moment, before drawing his lips near yours, his intent clear. For a heartbeat, you're tempted to give in𑁋to taste the sweetness of his kiss once more.
But then the weight of responsibility, the duty you've always known, everything, pulls you back.
"I-I can't," You whisper, the words escaping your lips shakily. "We can't, Seungcheol. It-It's not right."
Seungcheol's breath hitches as you pull away. His lips hover just inches from yours, yearning for a connection that seems increasingly unattainable.
"I know," he replies quietly, his voice barely more than a breath. He still doesn't want to let you go. "I understand. I'm sorry."
You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, caressing his skin softly. "The kingdom needs you. Your people need you. They need a strong, capable leader. They need their prince."
Seungcheol's jaw tightens. "And what about what I need? What about what my heart seeks?"
You only gaze longingly at him. The two of you know the answer to that. You don't have to say anything before he understands with a sigh. His expression softens with a mix of resignation and affection, and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
"Your Highness, your presence is requested back in the palace," Chan's voice calls out from behind, breaking the fragile moment between the two of you.
Seungcheol releases your hand defeatedly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer.
However, instead of backing away, he leans back in close to whisper into your ears, "Come meet me at the royal ballroom tomorrow at midnight," Then he pauses, contemplating, and adding on, "if you wish, of course."
Then his lips curl into a bittersweet smile before turning away to leave. The sound of his footsteps gradually fades as he walks away back towards the palace, leaving you standing amidst the fragrant blooms and under the rays of soft moonlight.
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Come meet me at the royal ballroom... midnight... if you wish. Seungcheol's words have been echoing in your mind for the entirety of the day, sometimes even distracting you from the duties you are assigned to in the royal garden.
The more you thought over his invitation, the more it felt like an impossible temptation, knowing well of the risks and consequences it could bring.
The day passes in a blur, the sun making its daily journey across the sky, casting a warm and inviting glow over the palace and the royal garden. And when the late night finally takes over, and the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself cautiously walking down the large corridor of the palace, your feet instinctively bringing you in the direction of the royal ballroom. It's eerily quiet at this time, nothing but skeleton staff that still heightens your paranoid senses of getting caught.
Yet as you stop in front of the grand doors of the ballroom, your heart quickens its pace. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Should you really be doing this? Was it entirely a good idea to be here?
But just the thought of simply him draws you in, your hand briefly gliding over the glistening doorknob.
With a determined sigh, you take the leap and push the heavy doors open. The ballroom lies before you, bathed in the silvery luminescence filtering through the grand windows. Your heart races as you step inside.
The ballroom is empty, deserted practically. All of the lights, including the large chandelier, were switched off, the only source coming from the outside world through the tall windows.
As you step further into the room, the sounds of your shoes echoing throughout, the sheer emptiness of the place becomes more apparent. You swear you even hear your own thoughts bouncing off the walls of the room. Doubts start to creep into your mind. What if he doesn't come? What if this was all a mistake?
However, just as you're about to give in to the feeling of hopelessness, you hear a soft sound from behind you. You turn to find Seungcheol entering the ballroom and closing the door shut. He's dressed in a simple black suit, and there's a twinge of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrors your own.
"You came," he says, and his voice is so soft that you can barely hear it over your racing heart.
You fully turn yourself to him, swallowing down a nervous lump in your throat.
"You called."
Seungcheol's eyes light up, and a faint smile crosses his lips as he steps closer to you. The moonlight bathes him in an celestial glow, accentuating his princely features. But in this moment, he's just the man you've been in love with for so long.
He extends his hand toward you, eyes locked onto yours, inviting you to share a dance with him.
"May I?" he asks gentlemanly, and it sends a rush of heat to your cheeks.
You hesitate for a brief moment, glancing down at his hand and back up to his face. "I... I don't know how..."
Seungcheol's smile remains warm and encouraging, his hand still extended toward you.
"It's okay," he says softly. "I'll teach you. Just follow my lead."
Tentatively, you place your hand in his. His grip is firm yet gentle as he guides you to the centre of the empty dance floor, a certain eager bounce in his step that you notice, and the stars painting the ground seem to come to life as you stand with him. Seungcheol places his hand on your waist, and the warmth of his palm against your skin sends shivers down your spine. You loop your arms around his neck, trying to steady your breathing as you prepare to follow his lead.
At first, your steps are awkward, but you try your best to mimic the elegance and grace that he naturally possesses. He's probably had personal training for this kind of thing, You think.
You chuckle at the small moments where your feet accidentally bump or you step on his toes, and Seungcheol's laughter mingles with yours. Nothing but a soft melody of an imagined song fills the silence as the two of you move together in the middle of the ballroom.
"You're doing great," he whispers, breath brushing against your ear as you sway together.
It's scarily easy to lose yourself in Seungcheol's eyes. They're the same eyes that once whispered secrets of love to you beneath the stars. Now they say a lot without saying anything.
You don't know how long you've been dancing, but it feels like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once. The world outside the ballroom may be waiting, filled with your separate responsibilities and expectations, but in this moment, it's just you and him.
"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?" Seungcheol comments, even though you were only dressed in your servant uniform.
Your cheeks flush at his compliment, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze, and offer a shy smile. "I'm not as stunning as the ladies at the court, nor your betrothed."
Seungcheol gently tilts your chin upward, making sure you meet his eyes.
"Every time I look at you, I feel like I fall in love all over again." His thumb brushes lightly against your cheek. "Every time I watch you down tending to the garden through my quarters, I feel as if you're tending to my heart. I can simply say that you're the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on, sweetheart."
His words make your heart swell out of your chest, his grip on your waist tightening imperceptibly, drawing you closer to him. The space between you vanishes, and you can feel the heat of his body seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you. Seungcheol could shower you with praises all day long, and you would never tire of hearing them. He has a way of making you feel special, cherished, and utterly adored.
"Cheol?" You call out, voice tinged with vulnerability.
He raises an eyebrow, still guiding you through the dance. "Yes, love?"
"Are we crazy for doing this?" You ask. It's meant to be rhetorical in a way, but the uncertainty in your voice lingers, and Seungcheol's expression becomes more serious.
He slows the movement between you two, his pensive eyes locked onto yours.
"Perhaps we are," he admits wholeheartedly. "but I'd rather be crazy with you than live a life without you."
His words quietly suspend in the air around you. The moments pass, but they feel eternal, as if time itself has momentarily paused to let the two of you be together. You're captured in his eyes, just like he is with yours. You see the emotions he's trying to convey: love, longing, and the knowledge that this moment is both a blessing and a curse.
And then without a word, you both lean in at the same time, lips meeting each other's in a kiss both softly and tenderly. It's a stolen moment; it's a secret scene that only the moon and stars witness.
His arms pull you closer, fingers dancing along your spine, as if he's trying to bridge any space that might exist between you. It's a kiss that tastes of bittersweet nostalgia𑁋something of what once was and what could never be. You savour the taste of him on your lips, knowing that once the morning light arrives, this moment may become nothing more than a distant memory.
As your lips break away, you both draw back slightly, foreheads touching, breathing heavily as you savour the precious seconds of closeness.
"You know that I'd give up everything for you," he whispers, breath warm against your skin.
You only smile, tracing your fingers gently over his lips. He leans into your touch.
"I know," You say softly. "And I would do the same for you."
"But just for tonight." He pushes back some strands of hair behind your ear. "Can we pretend that the world doesn't matter?"
You peer into his eyes, and for a moment, you see a reflection of your own pining. Your heart sinks, but it also rises. A smile drifts across your face, but it also carries a trace of sadness. Leaning in, you nearly press your lips against his once again, but then you take in a deep breath.
"Yes," is all you mutter. "I'm all yours."
That's all it takes for him to kiss you again, a bit more fervently and urgently that it nearly makes you stumble in surprise. But the second you pull back from each other, he's grabbing your hand in his, a bright smile to his face, before twirling you around and pulling you in close once more, your laughter echoing in the empty ballroom together. You share one more kiss, and then another, and another, whispers of hushed I love you's against each other’s lips as the night goes on like it will never end.
And it's with each minute that passes that only strengthens Seungcheol's determination𑁋that in some way, he will make sure you both will be together, whether that means escaping the constraints of your worlds, finding a way to keep your love alive in secret, or even sacrificing a part of himself.
With each kiss, he silently promises you that he will find a way. With each kiss, you silently promise to love and wait for him.
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thechosenone-if · 11 months
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DEMO
Last updated: 21 June 2022. Wordcount: 24k words (average playthrough of 17k word)
Rating: 16+ (mentions of mental illness, violence, blood, sexual themes, strong language, transphobia, chronic pain)
The Chosen One is a text-based fantasy epic story where, as it often happens, you are the one chosen by the Prophecy, destined to fight in the Last War under the King. Unlike your average tale, though, you most certainly know to be the Chosen One and you have spent all your life waiting for your King's call.
You will NOT be the victim of events out of your control, nor you'll be an unwilling participant. You are not an orphan, and your family will not be slaughtered in order for you to unravel your true purpose in this world.
Oh, no. Absolutely not.
Instead, you are prepared and in control. You are powerful, more powerful than any other being that ever walked through this land, and you are ready to fulfil your destiny.
When the story begins, you are in the North, waiting. And when the call finally, finally, happens, you have to set off for the South with your Mentor, as specified in the prophecy. The Last Journey has begun.
Every interaction counts, remember that. But remember also that you are the Chosen One: you can do what you want, you have the power to forge whatever future you want for the Regions and for yourself.
LOVE INTEREST
RASCIA | The Forgotten One Healer (gender selectable M/NB/F): the colour of their skin, as well as the arcane language that litters it, marks them as kaehan, a native of the very kingdom you are prophesised to fight against. But destiny works in strange ways and maybe, after all, they were the one you needed all along. You will have to travel far before you meet them, though, and you will have to fight and to lose more that you ever thought you could shed. Because before you rise, you have to fall.
Rascia is a tall (1.79 m/5'11") person, with wavy waist length sapphire hair, a coral complexion and bright sea blue eyes. Their lean body is almost totally covered by religious silver tattoos, now rendered useless by their condition. As a result of their loss of faith, Rascia is completely colorblind.
OTHER CHARACTERS
The Mentor: they, as you, are part of the Prophecy, chosen to accompany you in the Last Journey. Your bond is... strained. You only want to be looked at with some sort of pride but all you seem to find in their eyes lately is doubt.
ASHEN | The Hero: you'll soon meet them. Remember this, though: keep your jealousy at bay before it starts consuming you.
The King: not much to say to that. They are the king of the land, you never obviously met them and their true intentions remain unknown.
FEATURES
customize your MC's name, physical appearance, gender (M, F or NB, cisgender or transgender) and preferred magic (elemental magic, enchantments, illusion magic).
play as a semi set character, with a sharp tongue and a very strong personality, but with a soft spot for plants and kind healers
choose the rune that's engraved in your skin, and choose carefully because every Region will react accordingly.
build or destroy relationships with the cast, and find, in the midst of the Last War, the only one you can truly be yourself with.
The story will be released on Itch.io chapter by chapter (with a not so accurately estimated total of 9 total chapters) and will be completely free form start to finish.
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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 7 months
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Do it again...
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Vampire!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Night reigned in your great and powerful castle as a menace out there stalked, threatening the people who lived beyond. You were alone locked away for safety, but no one knew that you had a sweet and exciting visit from a creature who wanted only and only you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ SMUT!!! MDNI!!Unprotected sex, p in v, bondage, age gap, choking, dracyphilia, degradation (whore, slut ect..), pet names (pretty girl, princess ect...), dirty talking, fingering, spanking, dom!mean!Eddie, sub!fem!reader, praise kink, begging, blood kink, wax play, monster fuck, aftercare, secret relationship.
𝐀/𝐍: Sorry for my english, is not my native language. I really love this one, i hope you enjoy! (Please dont judge, this is my first smut i posted on Tumblr, hope you can support new writers.) I would defenitely brought another one-shot like this, beacuse a love Eddie in fantasy romance. Support new writers and reblog! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)
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Night reigned over the kingdom of Nyzeen. It was populated by a large village that lived thanks to the king who ruled over them. A loyal and kind man who cared about his people and about making sure no one lived in poverty.
His kingdom was powerful and with equally strong and trained guards. He founded Nyzeen about twenty years ago at a young age, when he had enough courage to defeat Lilith, one of the most dangerous vampire women in the world, defined as the reincarnation of Count Vlad, an extremely dangerous vampire being who took pleasure in impaling own victims and then drain them dry by drinking their blood.
Lilith was defined as Vlad, a real devil, mother of all her demons called vampires today, created by the devil himself to take revenge on mankind by depriving them of their blood, and transforming them into part of his ranks.
The king, after defeating Lilith, took possession of the large and dark castle, creating the kingdom that it is today, saving the prisoners who were left there as a breeding ground for their uncontrolled hunger.
On that full moon night, the king found the love of his life among the unfortunate survivors, a woman with a wonderful appearance. The young king could not resist and married her, ruling at her side and they became husband and wife. One fine day, the king and queen gave birth to a beautiful and enchanting baby girl. You.
The day of your birth, in Nyzeen, was recognized as one of the days in which a sudden cold descended never felt before, while the forest present a few steps from the kingdom mysteriously expanded.
Many years have passed and you were close to adulthood, where you would soon have to choose your future husband and rule your future people. You were to become their queen, confident and fearless. Your mother still cries when she sees you today, in a short time you had grown up and it seemed like only yesterday when she held you in her arms for the first time. She was proud of you as was your father. To them, you were the most beautiful in all the realm, no one could resist your refined beauty. You were like a wonderful flower that bloomed in the blood of God, a divinity with an apparently monstrous appearance due to the dominant black color, but with the kindness and purity of a true angel from heaven.
However, in this beautiful fairy tale there was also a horrible threat that had been worrying the entire village lately. The forest that lay before the kingdom, also called The Black Forest, hid vampires who survived the war against Lilith. They caused the deaths of some inhabitants of the kingdom who had left to obtain some wood. The return of those blood-hungry creatures has sparked panic, but the king has promised to keep everyone safe and kill all those beasts that still infest this land. He hate them.
The vampire...
A creature as fascinating as it is on a scientific level is also extremely dangerous. It outlives man for thousands of years, maintaining a youthful appearance that masks its enormous age. Capable of transforming into bats, fog or werewolves, the predators par excellence. They have sharp canine teeth with which they tear the skin of humans and suck their lifeblood.
Their skin could change shades depending on how much blood they drank and they knew how to disguise themselves among humans, living among them as if nothing had happened. The books were full of information about them, and you couldn't hide that you felt some interest.
It was a cool night with a red moon and on that precise evening all the citizens of the kingdom locked themselves inside their homes, barring the doors and windows. Vampires during the red moon were ruthless and nothing would stop them. The only thing that could have kept them away was garlic. It was the weapon to keep them away, especially that night. Instead, your parents asked the more trained guards to lock you in your rooms and make sure nothing happened.
Not only were the lives of the citizens at stake, but also yours and that of the entire kingdom. You were the daughter of the man who defeated and ruined the vampire race, they certainly didn't find you nice...
Your room was dark and a few oil candles attached to the walls gave light. The windows were closed, including the small balcony that overlooked the castle's outdoor garden. You were calmly looking at yourself in the mirror while combing your hair. You were still in your long dress, you didn't feel like wearing your nightgown yet so you preferred to wait.
A tidy and sober dress, a true gothic princess after all. The only thing you got rid of was the corset so you could feel freer and more carefree.
You jumped on the spot when you suddenly heard a knock on the glass of your balcony, as if someone had knocked. You turned around but no one was there. You therefore decided to get up and go and check; you weren't afraid, not even of a possible vampire, maybe... it depends on who the vampire in question is. You were attracted by the reddish light of the moon, all in front of you, as if it had come to take you.
Incredible, you thought.
Someone's shadow appeared, you managed to see it, it was hidden behind the wall. You grabbed a knife from your thigh lining, then jerked open the entrance to your balcony. It was all so fast. The stranger managed to block your arms from behind, but you kicked him on the knee and as soon as he grimaced in pain you pointed the knife near his throat.
Only now did you realize that the sharp blade was grazing Eddie's pale white skin. Your tense muscles loosened as a giggle escaped his lips "I must say you've improved, princess" he said and you lowered the weapon putting it down and he licked his lower lip "I wasn't expecting any visitors" You stated walking back inside while the vampire followed you "I wanted to surprise you with the surprise effect" He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and in the meantime you closed the balcony "Well you did it" You whispered as he placed his cold lips on yours skin pressing a few kisses.
Exact. You were secretly paired with a vampire, one of those who killed for food and who together with his cronies are wreaking havoc through The Black Forest. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't imagine it ending like this, actually it wasn't supposed to go like this, but fate had decided that way. That day when he pierced your heart like a sharp arrow you lost your temper, you couldn't escape, you couldn't resist, you were destined. A dream...a dream where love is nothing but passion, sin and chaos, nothing more!
You turned towards him giving him a sweet kiss while he held you close to him. You placed your hands on the now torn black shirt that showed the rest of his stomach. It was stained with that dark red liquid like wine but which for his tastes was even better than the wine itself.
"Why this sudden visit on the night of the red moon?" You asked then felt her nails as black as her arms fix one of your locks "I haven't seen my princess in days, I felt so alone, so I came to see you" curious how he chose today to come and see you , but in the end, it was fine, right? You had removed all the verbena plants you kept in your room, so it's as if you were waiting for his arrival. Verbena was an extremely rare plant to find and used to ward off vampires and witches' spells. Only people from the castle could take advantage of this very difficult to find flower, but you didn't think about it.
“My poor dear, I'm sorry for making you feel so alone” You said in an empathetic tone stroking his unruly curls “I couldn't imagine living a hundred years without your presence” he whispered making you blush and he kissed you again. He was hungry, more romantic than usual and what's more his grip was stronger than you remembered.
You separated while catching your breath and he could feel your warm breath on his chin "And you? How did my princess feel without me?" He asked. Your noses were together and you could notice his dark circles and brown eyes like a fallen autumn leaf "Bored. Without you, life here is still the same, nothing new" since your relationship was something secret , you and Eddie couldn't be together whenever you wanted, so it was normal if you didn't see each other for a week or even a whole month.
Eddie nodded "Well now you don't have to worry because I'm here princess" Yes. It was definitely VERY romantic unlike other times you two saw each other. You didn't say anything to him until he pressed a few kisses to your neck "If you're feeling peckish, just help yourself, you know I don't mind" You used a calm tone that would put Eddie at ease.
But he shook his head "I can't sweetheart, I don't want to bleed you dry" he positioned his face in the crook of your neck and you gave him a simple kiss. You had forgotten that on a night like this, vampires could be aggressive and uncontrolled. The younger vampires were extremely out of control and with a higher bloodlust, but Eddie, being a vampire who has lived over three hundred years, fortunately does not have this problem, but still he would have been uncontrolled if you let him drink your blue blood. But you would do it, you didn't care if he would drain you to death, you would do it for him.
“I would take the risk for you,” you told him as your hand ran through his messy curls. You felt his cold breath on your neck, sending shivers down your entire spine. It wasn't the first time Eddie drank your blood, the first time he tasted you he called it the purest blood he had ever drunk. From then on, Eddie demanded that no other vampire scum should touch you or your blood, you were his, and you wouldn't change that.
Eddie, hearing your consent, sank his fangs into your neck causing excruciating pain. You held back a scream by biting your bottom lip hard. He sucked your blood intensely and you heard him moan. The vampire's grip got tighter and tighter and you hissed something and then no longer felt that stinging pain. He licked the bleeding wound and you squeezed your legs together feeling some tingling.
At a moment like this you absolutely shouldn't be excited, but his teeth as well as his tongue dragging on your wound, it was a mix of different emotions for you.
You were so needy in that moment...and here you came to fuck on your big bed, while outside the knights started making a big mess. Eddie had you pinned to the bed, wrists tied to the headboard, dress now off leaving your skin exposed and on display. Escaping was now impossible...
The vampire had positioned himself above you, his fingers playing on your clit in circular motions, while with his other hand he held a white candle, dropping the now melted and hot wax.
“Eddie-” you called him as tears rolled down your cheeks “No” he said once again in a dominant tone. You absolutely had to come, but Eddie ordered you not to, he wanted to ruin you, and what better way than to drag it out? You moaned at the burning of the hot wax on your belly, you couldn't make too much noise, even if there was a racket outside you couldn't risk it "Look at you, you're so pathetic" he said with a grin as you almost screamed because of the wax that fell on your left breast “I bet you want my cock inside you so bad, huh princess?” You were too caught up in the sensations that it took you time to respond.
Spank!
“I asked you a fucking question whore” he said growling and squeezing your ass where he hit “Y-yes!” You said desperately "Please Eds-" you begged. The vampire laughed teasing you "Have we got our manners back, princess?" He asked as he threw a handful of hot wax on your nipple which this time made you scream but you tried to bite your lip to hold back "Yes Eddie, please make me cum" you looked at him with tears in your eyes and he smiled, blowing out the candle with a simple blow, placing it on the nightstand next to your royal bed. The vampire moved closer to your face to kiss your cheeks and suck some of your salty tears. One of his fingers had now entered you making you moan noticeably “Just like that” He whispered to you as he sunk his fangs into your neck, but lower near your collarbones. You felt all the pain and pleasure at the same time. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy could be heard throughout the room, and you were seriously about to reach your limit "E-um" You tried to say his name and failed miserably "Come on princess, now you can cum, i want to be generous" he said pulling away from your skin, disinfecting the wound with its saliva. His approval was all you needed, and sure enough, you came wetting his ringed fingers and moaning throwing your head back “Fuck-” You vulgarly said abandoning yourself to the passion of the moment.
Your legs trembled as the vampire stood up looking fully at you. You were fucking gorgeous, now naked on your own bed, tied at the wrists, half your body covered in wax, cheeks wet from your tears and makeup now smudged. You were ruined, but not completely. There was something else you wanted badly, and that was his seed inside you. It wasn't the first time you had sex with Eddie, and for this you thought you were very lucky, because you didn't think you had ever enjoyed so much in your life, even if he was a mystical and dangerous creature, you were really grateful that it was him who took your virginity.
The vampire caressed your thigh and then gave a spank that made you gasp "You really like coming huh? My little slut" he wiped his lips dirty with your blue blood with his hand "Eddie please..." You continued to pray to him. You couldn't do anything else, you didn't care anymore, not even if someone could come in and catch you in that scandalous state.
“I hear you needy girl” He chuckled and hastily took off his pants, freeing his erect, needy cock. He couldn't wait to make you scream his name with just simple thrusts as your tears fall in pleasure.
You felt the tip of his cock tapping against your clit and then Eddie positioned his cock at the entrance to your pussy, then, without warning, thrusting in with a rough deal, you let out a moan as you screamed his name.
“F-fuck, you're so damn tight” he said as he placed his ringed hand on your neck pressing lightly “Now see about using that pretty little mouth to scream my name.” With this, the vampire, without hesitation, began to give firm thrusts, he was seriously full of adrenaline, you didn't think if it was because of the red moon night or if it was just a coincidence.
Every thrust got louder and louder, and every moan you made was just as loud. "Do you hear that, princess? All this noise?" He whispered and you heard some screams coming from outside. You couldn't seriously understand what was happening but deep down, you didn't care in the slightest, you nodded "People out there are about to be massacred, what about you? Oh of course, you're here getting fucked by a vampire" those words of his were like a fine iron blade pointed at the belly.
It was really true...
There was definitely a massacre going on outside and instead of worrying about it you were there tied to that bed getting fucked hard by a vampire.
"Who knows what your parents will think of you...just a little doll who loves to be fucked, isn't she?" His firm hand on your neck tightened even more making you gasp between your moans. Some blood had leaked from your wound, staining the pillows behind you. You nodded and he didn't accept this answer of yours.
Spank!
"Use your words, pretty girl" after this, Eddie sped up making you moan uncontrollably hitting that sweet spot inside you "Y-yes Eddie! I'm your little doll" You almost screamed as your breathing quickened and you began to sweating “Of course you are, fuck-” he let out a moan as you rolled your eyes up “Eddie- I have to-” the words died as more gasps filled you and salty tears wet the pillow next to you. "Cum all over my cock, princess" the sound of your skins flapping repeatedly was something vulgar and sinful "Fuckfuckfuckfuck-" You repeated throwing your head back once again as your pussy tightened around the his cock, you both came moaning in unison.
“Jesus Christ-” the vampire growled giving the last two thrusts, firm and strong filling you with his cum. Eddie removed his hand from your neck, revealing some marks you would have been hard pressed to hide, not to mention the bites caused by his hunger. He pressed light kisses to your neck and you tried to catch your breath “Everything ok princess?” He asked as he caressed your waist, you nodded looking at him. You were tired, exhausted, and Eddie noticed. He stood up taking a deep breath and took care of you by cleaning up the combined case.
You woke up the next morning under your linen covers, the sun's rays streaming through the window and forcing you to open your eyes. You turned your head to look next to you and saw the silhouette of Eddie sitting facing the balcony, the vampire was putting on sunscreen to avoid getting burned. You admired the vampire's back, he seemed to be sculpted from clay, a true historical statue, his messy but majestic curls were simply perfect, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen, and you would never deny it.
You noticed that you weren't naked like you remembered, but in your nightgown. Most likely it was him who dressed you and took care of you, you also noticed how for the first time the boy had slept with you. Because of your secret relationship, it wasn't usual to sleep together in the same bed without being discovered, but you appreciated this gesture on his part. Eddie turned around noticing you waking up "Good morning sleeping beauty" he smiled at you and you did the same still a little sleepy "How are you?" He asked walking closer to you, resting his pale back, like the rest of his skin, on the headboard "Good Eds. Last night though, you were different..." You added a note of concern and the vampire raised his eyebrow as put away the sunscreen.
“What do you mean sweetheart?”
"Last night you were upset. You were a desperate, howling demon. You scared me..." A small grin formed on your face as your nightgown was now on full display and the vampire's hungry eyes couldn't help less than admiring you "Aw, I'm sorry if this vampire scared you princess" he said sarcastically and came closer "Oh, my dear, please. Do it again..." you stroked his dark curls and he laughed "Come here naughty girl"
He smiled as he walked over and hugged you as you let out a soft laugh.
Who cares what happened to him last night! Now you just wanted to stay held by him for eternity.
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glimmervoi · 4 months
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A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD - V True Love's Touch
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masterlist
e&b masterlist
notes: double post????!!!! *gasp* i wanted to introduce Hoseok's POV sooner to try to give context on how fast a soulmate bond can fall into place and affect the yandere men.
As a child, Hoseok's mother would recount tales of soulmates and the enchantment that surrounded them. According to her, a duo connected by fate possessed a certain mystical energy, whether they were aware of it or not.
Initially, Hoseok yearned for a soulmate as he envisioned the possibility of inheriting those mystical powers. Perhaps the ability to levitate objects, or even to manipulate minds. In his more fanciful moments, he imagined conjuring fire from his fingertips.
As Hoseok matured, his aspirations evolved. He came to realize that the magic his mother spoke of differed from the enchantments found in his childhood storybooks. It was a different kind of magic, deemed "forbidden" by the kingdom. Moreover, he grew aware of the beautiful facade his mother wore, concealing the monstrous nature that lurked beneath—a creature harboring that same forbidden magic.
As an adult, Hoseok desired a soulmate not for the allure of magic, but for the prospect of experiencing love. He cherished the time spent with the horses while evading his royal responsibilities. He treasured the thoughtful inventions Yoongi crafted for him each year on his birthday. Despite their quirks, he held a deep love for all of his brothers.
Yet, what Hoseok truly yearned for was a distinct kind of love—a bond forged between him and his soulmate, one that intertwined their destinies for eternity. It was a love that transcended the barriers of time and circumstance, unbreakable and unwavering in its devotion.
Hoseok had nearly lost faith in the tales his mother had woven for him—that soulmates could be found through the simplest of touches. She spoke of a bond that could ignite with a mere brush of fingers against each other, an instant knowing that would arise upon contact with one's soulmate.
He had been on the brink of resigning himself to a life devoid of the love he yearned for, stuck with the mundane duties of being the third eldest prince. That was, until fate intervened. It happened unexpectedly, a chance encounter in the ballroom earlier that day when he accidentally brushed past you.
As his hand grazed yours, it felt as though a surge of lightning shot through him, jolting him to attention. Startled, he recoiled, instinctively ready to retaliate against whoever had hurt him while he tried to blend in with the rest of the staff.
As his gaze fell upon you, it was as if everything clicked into place within him. The restlessness he had long tried to ignore melted away, replaced by a sense of calm that washed over him. There was a magnetic pull in the energy you put out, drawing him in with an irresistible force.
In that moment, he realized with certainty that you were the soulmate he had been searching for all those years. It mattered not that you were a maid; in his eyes, you were deserving of being a Queen. Your attire, though plain, held no significance to him. Even if you were draped in mere scraps of old parchment, you would still shine with the radiance of a princess adorned in the finest attire money could buy.
It was as if the world had been dull and colorless before, and in the moment he encountered you, it burst into vivid hues. The once lackluster ballroom transformed before his eyes, no longer a mundane setting for the annual winter ball. Instead, it shimmered with a newfound vibrancy, bathed in enchanting shades of blue and silver.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he experienced genuine happiness. It was as if a new chapter had begun in his life, one filled with excitement and promise, far from the monotonous existence within the castle walls. No longer did he feel confined to a future dictated by his mother's choices, destined to wed some lackluster lady she had selected for him.
He wouldn’t settle for anyone but you.
He couldn't help himself when he noticed you gazing around the room, a charming expression of confusion adorning your face. It was evident you were struggling with the centerpieces.
He understood the risk of conversing with you in the presence of others, especially while disguised in a stableboy's attire. The last thing he wanted was for his mother or father to catch wind of your connection, fearing they might steal you from him.
Despite the risk, he felt an overwhelming need to speak with you. He longed to hear your voice, to bask in your presence, if only for a fleeting moment. Waiting until he was certain nobody was watching, he cautiously made his way towards you.
Your voice, beautiful and smooth, captivated him completely. He found himself longing to sit and listen to you speak for hours on end. Your eyes held a magnetic allure, drawing him in. Despite the pull you exerted on him, he forced himself to stay focused as he guided you through arranging the keys.
He wished to have you by his side at the ball, to attend as his honored guest, each of you bearing matching keys. The thought of showcasing you to the entire room, dancing together to the melodic waltzing music that would fill the night, filled him with a sense of longing.
He envisioned adorning you in silk gowns and glittering jewelry, even crowning you as his Queen. However, he knew he was getting ahead of himself. Rushing into such grand gestures without careful planning could endanger you.
So, after guiding you through arranging the centerpieces, he excused himself, his mind already racing with plans. He was determined to make you his, and himself yours, and he was certain that nothing would stand in the way of turning that dream into a reality.
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celepom · 2 years
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tuesday again 4/23/22
three months unemployed YAY. also wherein i get SUPER pressed about star wars lore
listening
funeral by tele novella. popped open tiktok to see something my best friend sent me and this was there, the first thing on the for you page. let's yoink a description of their previous album from an interview i'm going to quote at length in a bit: "The result was “exactly what we wanted it to be,” a perfumed mist of jingling, jangling, lilting, off-center pop—a strange little snowglobe gathering dust at the back of the shelf."
youtube
the lyrics did hit me like a train bc i often find myself mourning places and situations that were not necessarily good for me but were familiar.
Oh, you're not tied up Here comes the train The tracks feel safe because you know 'em
if you had told me this was made in about 2007-2009ish i would have believed you. very spare production in the way folksier songs of the time were spare. a bit raspy and direct in her delivery. there's a bandcamp interview wherein i found out this is the side project of a vintage/antiques dealer and she has a fascinating perspective on her own music:
Her passion for the craft is evident—in our conversation as much as in listening to the band—but music, for her, is a means to an end, a way to transmit stories. “As a musician, I’m mediocre at best,” Ribbons says matter-of-factly. “I think that my talent lies in my storytelling ability. I think that I’m a good storyteller.” It’s something instilled in her by her grandparents, “voracious readers” who were always buying her books and secretly wanted Ribbons to be a writer, she suspects.
i really adored this whole album as a cohesive work. "vampire cowgirl" is another standout for obvious reasons.
youtube
You came barrelin' down Rabid with some talk Of a gal who rides at night Picking off the stock
remarkably good at reproducing the general vibe of the midcentury cowboy western album, when tv cowboys were sweeping the nation
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reading
T. Kingfisher's Nettle & Bone. enjoyed it, but not quite as much as her other stuff. whereas her other series are almost always comical and often stray into farce, this one was a bit grim. even with the addition of a demonic chicken. had to stop and really think about if my own experience with funerals and funerary rites (too many, too often) was coloring this for me but i think it is simply not as funny or interested in being funny as her other works. not a ding against it, but not what i was really expecting or in the mood for. image from tor, let's yoink the description from macmillan
This isn't the kind of fairy tale where the princess marries a prince. It's the one where she kills him. Marra — a shy, convent-raised, third-born daughter — is relieved not to be married off for the sake of her parents’ throne. Her older sister wasn’t so fortunate though, and her royal husband is as abusive as he is powerful. From the safety of the convent, Marra wonders who will come to her sister’s rescue and put a stop to this. But after years of watching their families and kingdoms pretend all is well, Marra realizes if any hero is coming, it will have to be Marra herself. If Marra can complete three impossible tasks, a witch will grant her the tools she needs. But, as is the way in stories of princes and the impossible, these tasks are only the beginning of Marra’s strange and enchanting journey to save her sister and topple a throne.
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paywalled article, sorry, but i personally have a bone to pick with fanduel due to [REDACTED INCIDENTS] from [PREVIOUS JOB] so it does not surprise me in the slightest that they don't really seem to be doing a single fucking thing about money-laundering. allegedly.
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watching
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the bad batch, or the 13/16 episodes of the third and final season that are out. all these images are from comicbookreview bc i watched this on my actual television
one of the plots i hate most is the trying to get someone back plot. for example, i think finding nemo does this really well bc it's also a coming of age/parenting movie. i do not think the second finding nemo movie does this well bc as soon as one person is reunited with the group, through a wacky series of coincidences they lose another member. plus that movie is part of the downturn of modern pixar where they forgot how to tell interesting stories but that's neither here nor there. the bad batch falls into the finding nemo 2 category. it's simply frustrating to watch. it turns into a desperate floundering after whoever happens to be missing instead of using a The Searchers style plot to say something about the act of the search itself. i realize i am once again saying "what if star wars was good" but like. come on.
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the bad batch s3 is surprisingly focused on retroactively filling in the backstory of how and why palpatine got cloned with his force powers intact, which is apparently a difficult technical problem. i would have cared about this if this show came out before the last movie and we had a cool breadcrumb style approach leading up to the movie. unfortunately that movie (and the sequel trilogy more broadly) killed a lot of my interest in modern star wars. anyway, this cloning problem leads to a lot of very technical conversations in a children's' show that are interesting to me, a grownup, bc no star wars media has ever successfully explained 1) what midichlorians actually are and 2) the biological processes by which they operate but refuse to be cloned? which is extremely funny to me bc midicholrians aren't supposed to be real. qui-gon has that whole little speech and blood test in the phantom menace but the series had So scrupulously stayed away from explaining how the force works before that. they still fail to explain it but they at least attempt to break two inches of new ground. side note this show gives us TWO canon trans girl clones and i really wish they were in a better show.
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it's annoying that i'm annoyed about a children's show meant to sell toys. some fun things: the pyke syndicate shows up, a slew of my favorite bounty hunters show up, this show is much better at painterly backgrounds and has an overall more concept-art feel than the clone wars proper or rebels. i think it would be cool if they stopped whitewashing the clones. i'm going to finish out the season but i don't exactly have a lot going on in my life right now. i am not terribly sad that this is the final season but BOY do they have a lot of loose ends to wrap up in three episodes.
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playing
new genshin update on uhhh thursday and it's kind of exciting bc i THINK it will finally fill in this hole on the map and the associated shorelines of three different countries!
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i thought i had long since found all the chests in liyue (the second area released) but in the process of doing a recently released character quest set in liyue i found another chest. this game is very good at hidden objectives and little secrets but i wish it was better at letting you know when you have Actually cleared an area completely of all the little hidden stuff. anyway i have been holding back the last character hangout (ningguang, my best beloved ruthless girlboss business high femme) for a terrible day and that day came! unfortunately hanging out with the fake pretend video game lesbian did make me feel better!
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also unfortunately i fucked up and cannot count so the gacha pity system (every 90 pulls you're guaranteed a 5-star character) gave me Neuvillette. who i don't hate but i wasn't really planning on pulling for. i do like his questline and his voice actor, he simply doesn't fit in super well with a mono-electro team bc i play this game like an insane woman.
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the real bitch of the thing keeping me from upgrading him is going out in the overworld and collecting enough sea stars. why can't he need flowers or little gears or anything else i have a thousand of.
anyway this gal will be dropping sometime in the next six weeks and i AM extremely excited to pull for her. she has some cool abilities (GUN) and is part of a popular pair with the steampunk lolita character i love and leads my other main team. i hope their abilities play well off each other but she has such a cool storyline and design i don't super care if she fits in with my playstyle. i will adapt for her in a way i am not willing to do with neuvilette
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making
i am once again obsessed with gallery walls, bc a friend has asked me to find the correct gigantic size frames to put some comics on his wall, and that has given me an excuse to go to thrift stores again.
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unfortunately i have mostly found frames for me, and the projects i have been working on have kind of a long tail of when they will actually be on my walls. i picked up four 16x20 frames for $2.50 each (solid wood! remarkably detailed!) bc i eventually want to put up these fallout maps in the style of national parks maps up on the map wall in my office. i suppose this means i should join @ruffledringdove and actually play '76, bc that's the one modern game i haven't played. these are getting scuff sanded with 120 and painted with a eggshell paint sample in a bright white u all know the drill at this point. ive painted a lot of frames in the past few weeks.
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left is one of the painted 16x20 map frames, right i have also finally sanded and painted both 12x16 deckle-edged wood frames i picked up off the side of the road in MA. and found glass + backs for them! eventually i will procure fancy mats and print + frame my grandmothers' portraits. they will eventually go on the living room wall, which is a neutrals and blue-greens wall of slightly disdainful women. this will help me swap the three maps in there to the office map wall.
i have also acquired this gigantic plaster-over-wood mirror for $15. i am using leftover rub n buff bc i don't have a great spot to spraypaint here without sheeting my entire front porch, and rub n buff is way less susceptible to 80% humidity than spray paint. also i would have to buy spray paint. i am looking up suspiciously bc i thought there was a bug. not sure what mackie was looking at.
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27 notes · View notes
heartthumpnovel · 10 months
Text
Heart Thump: Fantasy AU Short
The Cursed Prince
Word count: 3968
This is just a short story I wanted to write up in a AU where the gang are in a fairytale setting. Kinda an offshoot of Rapunzel but with G/t instead. May or may not cont. this depending on the reception and motivation. Thought something different to refresh myself for the canon story.
Part 1 (You are here) Part 2
cw: Implied past abuse
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One might assume that being held hostage is not only terrifying but also an exhilarating predicament. In tales of old, damsels in distress yearned for freedom and often found romance with the noble hero who saved them in most derivative literature.
However, Jason's firsthand experience proved quite the opposite.
Perhaps it stemmed from the fact that Jason wasn't kidnapped by a fearsome beast, but rather, he was imprisoned by his own father and the individuals who had pledged their allegiance to the Anderheart royal family since his adolescence. The novelty of being confined in a tower forever gradually lost its appeal over time. Fortunately, those who locked him away occasionally sent servants and mages to inform him what era it was, provided they were brave enough to engage in conversation.
The prince wouldn’t consider himself a hostage, far from it.
In fact, he’s the fearsome beast that needed to be locked up.
It all started with a bit of family trouble back when he was a young boy. Not that he would like to remember much of what happened but, what did happen was his own mother cursing her son before she was executed for being a witch.
What horrible curse was he afflicted with? Falling into a deep slumber to be awoken by a kiss, or turning into a swan at a nonspecific lake?
No, that would be far too graceful for the poor prince. Whenever he felt true love or happiness, he would start to double in size when his heart raced. The second his father found out what happened to him, for the safety of the kingdom and to keep a respectful appearance of the royal family, Jason was locked up in a refurbished prisoner tower which was meant to hold powerfully dangerous wizard prisoners.
It wasn't akin to a dismal prison with meager accommodations and chains, considering Jason was still the prince after all. He occupied two entire floors, and all his possessions from his room in the castle were transported here. His extensive collection of books and plants kept him occupied throughout the years. The tower's walls were even enchanted to withstand his uncontrollable growth, ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally destroy his home. Admittedly, it caused him significant pain when that occurred, but Jason believed he deserved it for allowing himself to become such a monstrosity in the first place. The prince preferred not to view his current residence as a prison but rather as a place of self-reformation and eventual liberation from the curse.
Though things on that front were slow going. All kinds of wizards and bishops had given his humble tower a visit to see if they were the ones that could break Jason’s curse. None of them succeeded by even a little bit. The number of people claiming they could fix him dwindled and Jason could hardly remember the last time a magic user tried to break the curse. It didn’t help either, that no parameters were said on the solution to get rid of Jason’s burden. Thinking about this made his stomach drop and he’d rather not focus on his predicament.
While there hasn't been a recent visit from suppliers from the kingdom, Jason wasn’t completely left to his own devices. It would be idiotic to leave a giant shifter to go mad by loneliness. Years ago around the time Jason turned fifteen, he was given a druid attendant to originally help him cure his ailment. This druid attendant was only a mere apprentice and needed experience for her mage training. Of Course she never did help him with the curse, but she did stay to become his closest ally. She even taught him how to nurture plants and they bonded over book series they both really like.
Strangely enough, Jason couldn’t put a finger on why but she wasn’t disgusted by his curse and actually wanted to be friends. Sure she seemed fearful of him at first, though she ended up going past the whole giant thing pretty quickly.
Oh Ellinor, so sweet yet had an awful taste of companions evidently.
Jason longed for her presence, despite knowing that she would return in a month with supplies to ensure he didn't perish from hunger and would provide him with new books to read. Plus it wasn’t like he could force her to stay just because he really wanted someone to talk to. He’d just find things to do to avoid being needy for attention. Surely, given his expertise in enduring captivity for countless moons, he could find ample activities to keep himself busy.
It was only day three and he was already out of books to sink into.
Loneliness began to eat away at him like moths to a nicely crafted sweater. He could feel the holes in his heart widening and just needed to find something to keep him distracted.
The prince finally rose from his silk sheets from his self reflection and quiet sobs, trying to think of ways a damsel like himself could pre-occupy his time. There were moments when he almost wished he were tormented by a captor, as it would afford him someone to converse with, reminiscent of the stories he had read. Gently dabbing his tears with a handkerchief, he took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself.
“Just a couple of weeks Jason, nothing to get all emotional over.” he whispered to himself as he passed by the solitary window that offered a glimpse of the outside world. Pausing, he leaned out of the stone archway, beholding the tranquil forest that surrounded him. Despite being the sole view he had of the outside, it remained a breathtaking sight regardless of the season. The melodic songs of diverse bird species and the presence of adorable, fluffy rodents never failed to bring a smile to his face. If only the creatures weren't frightened of him, he could approach them closely. Oh, how he yearned to run his fingers through the soft fur of an endearing creature. What he’d also wish he could do was to check out the plant life around him when Ellinor isn’t around to help him pick it. Just after Ellinor left Jason just had to notice a fruitful bounty of lavender had decided to grow underneath a willow tree that was right across from his tower. Jason had read of the calming remedy the herb had and heard that it made for an amazing tea. Having something to help calm him wasn’t only useful in his separation anxiety but may help with keeping from getting taller.
His gaze lingered longingly upon the lavender patch, wondering if it would remain in full bloom by the time Ellinor returned—
Wait, who was that?
Jason hadn't anticipated encountering anything other than the usual lavender flowers nestled beneath the willow's branches, but the sight before him was no mere flower. She possessed a beauty as captivating as the very patch she was avidly plucking from. His extraordinary eyesight allowed him a better glimpse of the woman, who had dark skin and neatly braided hair fashioned into a crown. Her clothes seemed nice, though not too nice to be a high class nobel, but he assumed that was because a dress would be problematic in dense woods like these. Jason couldn’t get a better look at her as she was bent down on her knees to hog all of the sweet smelling lavender.
Normally, it would be ill-advised for the prince to engage with passersby outside his tower. More often than not, they were lost bandits or adventurers mistaking him for a trapped princess. Each encounter ended with Ellinor either chasing them away or their retreat in terror upon discovering Jason's true identity. Fools, all of them.
However, this time, Jason realized his precious herbs were at stake, and lavender was not commonly found in the area. The audacity of this beautiful intruder to take what was clearly near his tower, and to claim one of the few things that could have kept him grounded and normal… no, she had to go.
“HEY- YOU THERE. TRESPASSER!” Jason yelled out as he poked his head outside his stone window and held onto the balcony fence. The woman startled as she looked where the yelling was coming from. “YEAH YOU! MISS!”
The woman stood up from her business and the prince could finally see her face. Her skin was definitely glowing and well taken care of so she couldn’t have been a dirty bandit type he usually saw. Perhaps a traveling noble merchant or a mage? Could be a magic user as he noticed how enchanting her eyes were. Wait- Focus Jason!
Just because this flower thief was pretty didn’t mean she had the right to take his precious herbs. Though perhaps he shouldn’t scare the daylights out of her and just tell her to get lost.
As the woman pointed to herself and gave a puppy dog head tilt, Jason went on shouting from his window. “Those lavender flowers are already claimed!” Jason spoke, trying his best to seem authoritative though it was pretty lacking, “and this is private property you’re standing in!”
The woman looked back at the lavender patch silently and then did a double take at the tower. Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, instead of leaving his yard, the lady decided the best idea was to walk even closer to the tower. Jason cringed and before he could tell her to back off, the woman cuffed her hands around her mouth and started to yell back.
“I don’t see a garden fence around here!” Shouted the beautiful stranger, “Also no offense, it looked like nobody lived in your dinky tower in centuries! How was I supposed to know!?”
Dinky?! Really? A three story tower is dinky to her? Jason’s fingers gripped on the stone window sill. "Well now you know don't you?!" Shouted back the whiny prince, "so why don't you leave my 'dinky tower' alone?"
Instead of just leaving like he asked, she stood there analyzing the scene before her. "You locked up here or something? Need help out of there?" She responded with a tinge of worry in her voice. Jason only rolled his eyes as he found himself again in this bothersome situation.
"You're not one of those Albion graduate heroes are you?" Jason spoke with his arms crossed, "No I'm perfectly fine thank you very much."
Her worried expression turned into a skeptical one as she still didn't make herself scarce.
"Oh really?" She retorted back with her hands on her hips, "Why don't you come down here to get the damn flowers yourself?"
Jason’s cheeks turned a tomato shade of red as his resolve began to crumble. He sputtered out his explanation.
"I-i can't…" Jason admitted, "I can not leave the tower but, I can assure you I'm perfectly fine."
That beautifully annoying woman smirked before she responded, walking over the tiny bridge that was over a stream, "You're literally in the middle of nowhere trapped in a prisoner tower. That doesn't look fine to me."
Oh by the gods, she's gotten so close to the structure that if Jason were to jump out of the window he'd probably land on her. He didn't need her that close.
"Look who ever you are- it's none of your business and I implore you to move on!" Jason tried to appeal to her, "you won't like what you see here I assure you."
The woman's response to that vague warning was to pat the sword handle at her side with a grin. Jason’s palms started to sweat, knowing she could bolt by the sight of his curse.
"What's keeping you here? Ransom? Dragon? Evil wizard? Your hair?" Natasha asked, her eyes looking at the tower to see where the door was.
Well, it seemed like he had to tell her the truth that nobody wanted to hear. That he was indeed the cursed prince of the Anderheart family. Jason leaned over the edge trying to be as stern as a lanky man could be.
He pointed to himself.
"I am, " Jason said, "I have a curse where I grow into a giant monster and I am kept here to keep the world safe."
That should have done it. Once people found out who he was they would either aim their arrows or run.
So why did she just stand there?
She stared up at the prince with an unreadable look on her face before she started to snicker. She put her hand over her mouth attempting to not break out into laughter. Right as Jason was going to ask what was so funny about his predicament, she answered with giggles.
"Seriously!?" Natasha spoke, "with a cute face like that?!"
Th-thump
Oh no.
Jason felt butterflies lunge in his stomach and that dreaded feeling of glee appeared. It was already too late as he felt the growth spurt suddenly making him several feet taller.
He also felt the stone window frame smack the top of his head.
“ACK!!” Jason yelped as his sudden growth caused him to smack the top of his head, he bent over for a moment to rub the bruise, “Ugh bloody hell that stings- I ugh, told you!” Thankfully he didn’t manage to fall out of the window, though he did also realize he wasn’t hearing screaming either. Jason’s eyebrows furrowed as he bent down to look outside the window once more wondering why he didn’t hear a reaction.
She was still standing there.
The woman stood there, eyes widened and definitely looked like she was completely caught off guard. Though she definitely wasn’t reaching for her sword as her arms remained crossed. The shock on her face slowly formed into a confused gaze.
“That’s it?” She spoke.
"What do you mean, 'that's it'!?" Jason exclaimed, his voice inadvertently louder, but he no longer cared. "I'm a bloody monster! You shouldn't be lingering around!" Was he actually feeling a twinge of offense that she didn't appear scared of him? It seemed that the years of isolation had truly taken a toll on the prince.
“I mean yeah you’re a little bit taller but like-” she said, gesturing with her arms, "but this? It doesn't scream 'monster' to me." A warm smile graced the woman's face, indicating she wasn't bluffing, although perhaps she lacked awareness of the potential danger. The 7-foot-tall prince cleared his throat, closing his eyes and crossing his arms in annoyance.
“I could be hundreds of men tall if it weren’t for this tower keeping me in check, you should be afraid. ” Jason coldly explained, truly unsure of this situation and the unknown was clearly making him uncomfortable.
“I mean-” Oh bother, she’s speaking again, “I’ve always had a thing for tall guys.”
Before he could react, his body swelled uncontrollably, leaving him scrambling to retreat into his room to avoid getting his head stuck in the window. His desk and bookshelves toppled over as his legs pushed them aside. Jason's back and head collided with the cold stone walls on the other side of the room. Struggling to catch his breath, he felt his face burning red and realized that his room now felt more like a cramped crate. Grumbling, he blew his bangs out of his face, wondering what he had done to deserve this. The nerve of this intruder!
“Hey you alright in there!?” That sweet little voice yelled.
Taking a deep breath was all the prince could do, as he needed to keep his temper in check. Even if the lady made him lose control, it wasn’t like she was trying to cause harm. A royal like him needs to be gentle and stern when asking for things. Especially if he was big enough to cause harm and he really didn’t want to scare people. Pulling himself forward, Jason mumbled a confirmation that he was fine. He then reached his arm out the window, which was as long as a horse, and pointed towards the willow tree.
“Look miss,” Jason said, “Just leave me be please, you can take the lavender if you want.”
There was silence. A very long one.
Jason pulled his arm back inside and curled up upon the cool prison wall. His fingers gripping opposite elbows as he held back tears. Thinking the situation over in his mind and feeling a deep pit in his stomach.
“Oh you gigantic moron…” Jason murmured to himself, “She just wanted to help and you had to go be a rude brute..” He curled into himself as he became a big sobbing mass in his itty bitty tower. The walls have never felt this closed in since the days where he was first thrown in there. Memories of him being chained up for the first few weeks came to mind and being left to starve as the servants who used to keep him alive were too scared to approach his door. He hadn't talked to anyone those desolate weeks and had to beg to convince his father that he wasn’t meaning to be dangerous. That he hated what he’d become and wanted more than anything to be fixed.
Jason grimaced and fiddled with the gem on his crown. Surely a cure was going to come around soon and he could step outside this tower without fear. At this point Jason didn’t even care about being a ruler or whatever. He just wanted to be happy.
Clank
Jason’s head rose and graced the ceiling, hearing a noise coming from the window that sounded like metal scraping rock. Hanging there over the window sill was a hook that had a rope tied on it. Was she planning on coming up here to slay him for being rude!?
“Hey buddy could you do me a favor and loop that rope through an anchor?” Her voice yelled up casually, “I’m sending a basket up.”
Wait what?
More confusion came to Jason, he wondered why in the world this person wanted to give him something after he yelled at her to leave. The prince crawled forward and desperately patted the ceiling as he searched for that rope hook he used to use during the first few years of his banishment. He hadn't found a need for it lately as Ellinor wasn’t scared coming into the tower. One of his giant fingers brushed against cold metal and he gave it a tug. Dust exploded from the anchor and unfortunately Jason inhaled a lot of it. He coughed harshly and waved a hand around to try to fan the dust outside the window.
The very kind person asked if he was okay and the giant tried to assure her that he’s just fine. Jason fed the rope through the hoop of the anchor and held onto the other end on the rope with one hand. The rope jostled a bit as pressure was added to the other end outside. It wasn’t heavy at all though there was indeed something tied to the other end. Just then there were two brief tugs to the rope and Jason took that as a signal to pull it up.
While it wouldn’t take much effort to pull it up strength wise, he was very slow and methodical with pulling up the basket. He wouldn’t want to accidentally jostle out the mystery contents in the basket. His eyes brightened in surprise when he managed to spot the basket on the other end and nearly dropped it.
It was a small bouquet of lavender.
The smell was just as wonderful as he thought it would be and they looked beautiful up close. His heart began to race once more as he felt his body push the limit of the tower’s allowance. Though he didn’t care about his desk being completely pushed into the wall or that he was completely cramped in his tiny room. Someone gave him a wonderful gift and it brought a huge grin on his face for the first time in a while.
While he wished he would go face her once more to properly say thank you, his head was just a bit too large to fit through the window, so instead he pushed an arm through the window. His index finger and thumb crossed over to the delight of the stranger.
“Uhm- thank you very much Miss… could I please get your name?” Jason asked with him trying to not sound like was crying.
The new friend spoke cheerfully, “Natasha Maryrose, I come from the Solaris Republic not far from here. Could I get yours as well?”
The Solaris Republic? He remembered that that democratic empire had a tense yet amicable relationship with the kingdom he was born to rule in. It seemed their borders were much closer than he initially thought.
“Prince Anderheart,” Said the prince, “Though you can call me Jason, if that's a bit too formal.”
“Oh so you are the cursed prince! Huh..” Natahsa scratched her grin, “Wow the tales about you are seriously bunk.”
“Wh-what tales!?” The giant arm flinched a little, “There’s tales about me!?”
“Heh, I’d say they’re more like rumors or stories that mothers tell their young kids to make them behave.” Natasha confessed as she leaned on the tower’s wall, “I wouldn’t give it too much thought, it’s not like you actually have claws and bake men’s bones into bread. ”
“Oh by the gods…” Jason responded as his arm went limp on the window’s edge, causing a giggle to come from below, “I hardly even speak to those that come around here…”
“I’m special then?” Natasha retorted as she noticed the fingers of the arms twitch, “I could try to help clear your name out here if you want.”
“Oh no no no, “ The arm crawled back into the window as if a snake was finding shelter in its den, “I would appreciate it if you kept me a secret for now, I honestly don’t want people knowing where I am when I’m stuck like this…”
“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Natasha responded, “Then your secret is safe with me ya little bone muncher!”
A laugh bellowed from within the tower, it was dainty yet shook the stone walls. Not enough to break them but, one would have thought a keg explosive went off in there.
Perhaps, a kind of emotional keg exploded there that day.
Jason whipped his tears with his other arm and smiled, having the outside arm give a thumbs up before gently grasping the window. Tapping his fingers on the sill as he took a large breath.
“Oh man alive…” Jason spoke, “Could I make another bold request if it’s not too much to ask?”
“Shoot.”
“Could you… pay me a visit sometimes? If-if you want that is. I know we just met and everything but, I-I think you’re really interesting and it gets quite lonely-”
“I’d love to.”
The arm froze in surprise, then melted back onto the window as it hung very low along the tower’s aging stone walls.
“Th-thanks, and I’m very, very sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” Jason began to apologize, “You were just trying to be nice and here I was yelling at you for it- Eh?!”
In the middle of his apology, he didn’t realize that his arm could reach so far down that it was just barely enough for someone to reach their hand out to touch the tip of his middle finger. He felt a silk-soft hand pat his finger, which initially flinched at the touch but let itself be petted. Jason couldn’t make out what Natasha was mumbling about, but, deep down he knew it must have been kind.
Finally, the dreaded cursed prince of the Atlas kingdom and Anderheart monarchy, had made another friend.
119 notes · View notes
jiliansky-blog · 6 months
Text
In the dark. Chapter 2. The beginning of something new
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Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader
Rating: PG
Words: 1849
That night, you didn’t appear in the Dreaming for some reason. And you thought perhaps Morpheus was tired of you and had changed his mind.
“You became dreamy”, said your friend. “You were always dreamy. Is something happening that I don’t know about”.
“Well, I have very interesting dreams now”, you explained. No one believes that some god of dreams visits you at night.
 “Really?” she asked. "What do these dreams look like?”
“Like some fairy tale kingdom”, you smiled.
And the next evening, you were looking forward to seeing Morpheus. You hope that he won’t leave you. But he told you about the month. And yes, he appeared in your room when you were almost asleep. As he waits for you to fall asleep.
“Hello”, you smiled. “Thank you for yesterday’s reading. Your voice is just enchanting”.
“Do you prefer this again?” he asked.
“Perhaps, but why wasn't I in the Dreaming yesterday?” you asked.
“My apologies”, Morpheus replied seriously. “I thought you just wanted to sleep and didn’t want to go to the Dreaming”.
“No apology is needed”, you smiled. “And don’t be so formal. Though I want to spend time in the Dreaming after I fall asleep”.
“Very well”, he agreed. “Should I read again?”
You supposed that it was easier for him to read than to answer your questions. And he was wonderful at this.
“What books do you prefer?” you asked.
“I don’t have preferences”, he replied.
“No, I don’t believe in this”, you said. “You can’t realize it, but there must be something that you enjoy reading”.
“I love good poetry”, he said after a long pause. “And plays”.
“Me either”, you smiled. “I liked to read Shakespeare’s plays in school. But I prefer comedies to tragedies”.
“Then you should like A Midsummer Night's Dream," he admitted.
“I do”, you said again. “Do you like Shakespeare?”
“Yes, I inspired him on this play”, he replied.
“No way!” you gasped. “Did you know him?”
“I did”, he said, nodding. “He wrote two plays for me. This and “Tempest”.
“That's marvelous!” you admitted.
Morpheus revealed something about him. It was really something, too. So you thought that you were eventually starting to get to know him.
“What food do you like?” you asked.
“I don’t need food to sustain myself”, was the answer.
“I didn’t ask you about this”, you said. “I asked about your preferences”.
 Silence again, and then he sighed. Perhaps you did tire him.
“I like wine”, he replied. “And coffee. And Italian food”.
“So you do have preferences”, you smiled.
“It doesn’t matter what I prefer”, Morpheus said. “What matters is that I need to perform my duty. And I won’t be able to do this if…”
“If our agreement breaks,”, you finished.
“Yes”, he said quietly.
“Perhaps your preferences don’t mean anything in the universe, but they can be important for you”, you admitted. “And I want to know you very much”.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you are interesting and mysterious”, you said. “We can be at least friends”.
“You, humans, are really something”, he said, but without irritation. Perhaps, he even smiles. You would like to see him smiling.
“So should I read to you?” he asked.
“Yes, please”, you replied, making yourself comfortable in the bed. And his voice put you to sleep again.
And you appeared in the Dreaming again. Lucienne was just a little bit surprised to see me again.
“Oh, welcome back”, she said with a smile.
“Hello again”, you replied. “I kind of slept through all of yesterday’s night. The magic of Morpheus’ voice”.
“Did he read to you?” She was really surprised.
“Yes, twice”, You nodded. “Why?”
“He rarely did this”, she replied. “Especially for mortals. She read to his former lovers or to his son. But not to mortals”.
“Oh, I see”, you said, surprised too. “I asked very nicely. And it would be better if no one found out about it”.
“Found out about what?” Of course, Matthew should appear at this moment.
“Nothing”, you said.
“No, you are hiding something”, he continued. “What is it?”
“That Morpheus was nice and sweet”, you said.
“Oh, so do you want to tell me that you are in love with your boss?” he asked. “Or maybe that boss likes you? That would be interesting”.
“No, I’m just saying that he was nice”, you rejected.
“Matthew, stop being silly”, Lucienne said. “If it were as you said, then everything would change”.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“Nothing”, she says, returning to her work, but you felt like she wasn’t telling you something. It was something related to his visits.
“What is it?” you asked.
“He will tell you when the time comes,”, Lucienne answered.
“He is afraid that it will change your relationship if he tells you”, Matthew admitted. “That is why he forbids us to tell”.
“I see”, you sighed.
Perhaps, it was important for Morpheus not to tell you anything. You walked alone for a little bit and then read. But you didn’t meet anyone else. You tried to figure out the reason he wanted to stay in the shadows. It reminds you of the fairy tale about Beauty and the Beast. Can he be ugly or cursed, and that’s why he wanted to stay in the darkness? But if he wants you to fall in love, then he wasn’t trying hard. Or does he have another plan?
The next night, he came again. You were waiting for him. And he just appeared in the darkness.
“I was watching you yesterday”, he said. “Do you not like the Dreaming anymore? You seemed confused and puzzled.
“It’s nothing”, you replied. “I was just thinking why you want to stay in the dark. You forbid Lucienne and Matthew to talk about this”.
“Why do you want to know this?” he asked.
“Because I want to help”, you replied.
“You are already helping”, Morpheus said. His voice was calm and even soft. He wasn’t angry with you, and that was a good sign.
“I’m glad you're trusting me”, you said.
“Should we read?” he asked. “Or do you want to communicate?”
“What do you prefer?” you asked.
“Do you really need to know all of my preferences?” Morpheus asked, but it seemed to you he was amused.
“Why not?” you asked in return.
“Very well”, he sighed. “Ask your questions”.
“You are not very good at socializing, are you?” you smiled.
“It’s not important”, he said. “And I don’t have many friends”.
“What about your family?” you asked.
“We don’t talk to each other very often”, he replied calmly but coldly. “We are too different”.
“And you don’t want to talk about them”, you guessed.
“Indeed”, he said.
“Aright, can you tell me the story?” you asked. “Lucienne told me you're also called the Prince of Stories. Is it true?”
“I am called the Prince of Stories,”, he confirmed. “And I will tell you the story”.
“I am going to listen carefully”, you replied.
“Once upon a time, a god traveled through ancient civilizations”, he begins. “And a mortal princess saw him out and tried to follow him”.
Oh, is that a love story? And why do you feel like this story is important to Morpheus? What is he trying to tell you?
“She found the way to follow the god to his world, but when she found out who he was, she wanted to escape from him, even though she wanted him”.
“She was awful, why try to find him if you don’t want to be with him”, you admitted. “She has no sense”.
“Because the god and the mortal can’t be together”, Morpheus replied. “The god brought her to the night of love, and her kingdom was destroyed because of him”.
“That’s sad”, you said.
“She refused to stay with him and even killed herself”, he continued with a lifeless voice. “And the god was heartbroken. He cursed and damned her to life in hell”.
He finished the story and became silent. You understood that it was a story about him. He did something very wrong. But this princess was very weird too.
“Why did you tell me this?” you asked.
“You shouldn’t fall in love with me”, he said. “It will ruin everything”.
“There is a way between friendship and love”, you replied. “And you know, this princess was really dumpy. If she knew how their relationship was going to end, she needs to think more clearly before following him”
“She couldn’t know what he was,”, he replied.
“You said she followed him to his world”, you confronted. “She should know that he wasn’t human when she was making so many efforts”.
“Right”, His voice was tired now. “But she paid her price because of him. Because he wasn’t passionate and doesn’t care much about humans”.
“And I can say she doesn’t love him, or she would find the way”, you said.
“There is no other way”, he sighed.
“I don’t believe in this”, you admitted. “Thank you. For sharing this story”.
“It would probably be better if we didn’t get too close”, he sighed. “That is why I don’t want to communicate”.
“Can we be friends?” you asked.
“I suppose we can”, he agreed.
“Good”, you nodded.
After that, he read, and you fell asleep. And you spent the rest of the day in his library.
The week that came after, he mostly read to you, but he started making remarks about the stories. Sometimes he chooses the story, and sometimes it's your choice. You started to understand him a little better. He missed the opportunity to discuss with someone stories, books or some other stuff. But he doesn’t approve of your love for stories about the fairies.
“They are deceiving creatures”, he once told you. “Their beautiful look is just glamour. And they can charm you and do whatever they want”.
“So they are real?” you asked.
“As real as my world”, Morpheus replied. “But stay away from them. They are quite dangerous”.
“Do you know any of them?” you asked.
“Yes”, he said.
And you understand that this is the end of this conversation. He doesn’t want to talk about fairies anymore. And suggested reading another story. And so you agreed.
Slowly, he became friendlier. You heard his chuckle. And you were curious what his smile looked like. Or how his laugh sounds—even without seeing him, you began to feel the warmth grow in your heart.
“You are so smart”, you said another night.
“Of course”, he says, sounding so proud. “Did you expect me to be stupid?”
“Not at all”, you smiled. “I just marveled”.
Morpheus was indeed smart. You knew he could be cold, but he also has a deep, caring hurt. And he always talks about his home with softness and warmth.
“You need to sleep”, he said suddenly.
And so you slowly drifted to sleep and to his palace. Where he left you small gifts. Books that you like. Even though he warned you against falling in love with him, he almost courted you, as he would say. Perhaps, it was a friendly gift. But it warmed your heart anyway.
@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza @sapphireonline @deniixlovezelda
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vulnonapix1234 · 8 months
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ok I got another au idea
punkflower sleeping beauty au
miles is cursed by the enchanter Miguel to die on the day of his sixteenth birthday, but then spider ham, one of the three fairies that were invited to his first birthday, are able to make it so that he just falls in an eternal slumber until he’s awakened by true loved kiss
I am sorry that i am answering this so late! I had been working on other things and wasn't as active as i wanted to be.
Sleeping beauties aus are fun, especially if the "princess" actually gets to meet the "prince" whilst she sleeps.
I took that concept and kind of twisted it into something that isn't even close to the fairy tale.
I hope that you still like it!
Miles always had been a cursed child.
Or at least, he had been since the celebration of his and his brother's first birthday.
As fate had been, he was born in a set of twins to a queen and a king of an extremely wealthy country.
Normally, this would have promised him a comfortable and luxurious life and the chance to one day rule his lands.
But Fate had different plans.
In the very same moment that he was born, a tragedy happened.
A monster with the wish to make the kingdom he killed the daughter of one of the 13 fairy's that once protected these lands in the hopes of gaining her magical powers.
He had succeeded and for just a moment, he had powers terrible enough to destroy the entire kingdom.
But then, the 13th fairy, the one that created that little girl, found out what happened.
The fairy, once kind and good, was swallowed by rage and in the search for revenge turned into a bloodthirsty monster.
Countless people fell to this righteous anger, as the beast that killed the child had been able to escape.
The fairies' bloody hunt for the murderer continued, as the monster hid from his punishment.
As it was, his father decided to not invite him to the birthday celebration, for he was terrified of what he'd do in his blind rage.
That had been a big mistake.
When the other 12 fairies gave their gifts to the little princes, he appeared in a blood-red mist of hatred and rage.
With a voice of pure venom and agony, he screamed out.
"HOW DARE YOU CELEBRATE THE DAY MY GABRIELA WAS MURDERED ?!"
No matter how much the other fairies tried to calm him down, to make him see reason, he couldn't understand.
He was blinded by his emotions and the feeling of betrayal.
"I will make you feel what it means to lose a child."
This was how he was cursed to die on his 13th Birthday.
The rose-like curse mark on the back of his hand was proof enough.
It was terrifying. Unavoidable. Unfair.
Why was he to pay for something that he had no part in?
But no. It wasn't death that would come for him on his 13th Birthday.
Porker, one of the twelve invited fairies used up all his powers in a try to spare him from his fate.
Mighty as the harvest fairy may be, he could only weaken the spell and doom him to something that wasn't quite death.
An endless slumber that he would only be able to escape with the help of his soulmate.
So yeah. He was fucked.
He often wondered if death would be the Kinder option, instead of just having to wait for his savoir that probably will never come.
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Hobie had never had any luck in his life.
As a street rat, no one spared him any kindness or warmth.
He was alone as long as he could remember, with no mother or father or anyone who would keep him safe and warm.
It was always just him, himself, and he.
That was till this... thing started to follow him shortly before his 15th birthday, on the 13th anniversary of the death of that godforsaken fairy child.
A ghost-like being that only he seemed to be able to see, what should have been pretty worrying.
At first, he had tried to ignore it with the hopes that it would just leave him and his sanity alone.
It didn't.
Instead, it looked so sad, or as sad as a flower could look, that Hobie could only comfort it.
This was how he ended up with an otherworldly being as a friend, which wasn't as bad as it first sounded.
Sunny, as its head looked like a Sunflower, was fun to be around.
Whilst he was smart and really silly at times and had a love for art, it also seemed death set on keeping him alive.
Because that was what friends did.
It was also death set on ending that bloody hunt, that this fairy was still doing, as it was the only way for it to stop its misery.
He didn't like how that sounded, because he didn't want to lose his friend, but he still wanted to be as supportive as it was to him.
Even if it meant becoming a Mercenary, becoming friends and accidental leader of a rag-tag group of misfits, going on a wild goose chase for a few years, only to fall in love with the faceless spirit that has been haunting him for years, losing said spirit and getting kissed by a prince.
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cnnmairoll · 10 months
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An Enchanted Masquerade Tale
Pairing : Sampo x Reader Genre : Fluff, Fairytale AU Summary : In the midst of an enchanted masquerade, a chance encounter between a noble soul and an eloquent mercenary sets off a captivating journey of unmasked identities and burgeoning love. Disclaimer : reader has hair, long enough for sampo to tuck a strand behind their ear a/n : My entry piece for @masked-fools Fairytale au!! Please check out the other writers there, they're very talented ♡
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In the heart of the enchanting kingdom of Eldoria, where tales of magic and romance intertwine, a grand masquerade ball was underway. The night was aglow with the soft radiance of a thousand candles, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the opulent palace. Nobles, aristocrats, and dignitaries from far and wide had gathered, all elegantly adorned in their finest attire and elaborate masks that concealed their true identities.
Amidst the swirling sea of silk gowns and velvet suits, you, a member of a prestigious noble family, stood masked in an attire that befitted your regal lineage. But as the night progressed, the initial excitement began to wane, replaced by a lingering sense of monotony. The ballroom was alive with laughter and music, yet you found yourself yearning for something more.
It was then that destiny intervened, leading you to collide with a captivating stranger. Your mask brushed against theirs, and the two of you locked eyes. A mischievous glint sparkled within their emerald orbs, igniting an immediate connection. With a flourish, the stranger introduced themselves with a fabricated name that held an air of secrecy.
You engaged in a dance of words, the kind that transcended mere pleasantries. Your conversations flowed effortlessly, like a river of shared thoughts and dreams. Time seemed to stand still as the two of you exchanged stories, anecdotes, and witty remarks. The masquerade around you became a distant hum, as if the world outside your bubble of conversation ceased to exist.
As the night grew darker, the chatter in the ballroom intensified, threatening to shatter the intimate cocoon you had woven around yourselves. Recognizing the need for solitude, the gentleman suggested a stroll in the palace garden, where the fragrant blooms and moonlit paths could offer a refuge from the prying eyes and intrusive voices.
Outside, the garden was a paradise of flora and twinkling lights, casting a magical spell upon the night. The breeze whispered secrets as you walked together, the moon bathing you in its silvery glow. The connection between you deepened, each revelation drawing you closer to this masked enigma.
But just as the bond between you seemed to solidify, the delicate thread of your encounter snapped. Panic rippled through the crowd as alarms sounded—the masked stranger was exposed as a "Thief." Gasps echoed, and the night took an unexpected turn as guards rushed to apprehend the man you had grown so fond of in mere hours.
Before he vanished into the shadows, the thief's true name was revealed: Sampo Koski. With a heartfelt apology for the abrupt departure, he made a promise—unfinished and suspended in midair—that he would see you again.
Since then, he had been occupying your mind, the memory of that enchanting night at the masquerade ball etched into your thoughts. You often found yourself lost in daydreams, imagining what it would be like to see the masked thief, Sampo Koski, again. The thrill of his presence, the intriguing conversations you shared – it all felt like a dream you were desperate to relive.
In one fateful night, you were just reading a book in the dimly lit chamber of your family's grand estate, your thoughts wandering to the enigmatic stranger who had left such an indelible mark on your heart. The moon cast a soft glow through the window, illuminating the pages before you.
Interrupting your solitude, a light but distinct knock resonated against the glass pane. Startled, you looked up, your heart racing. Could it be him? Your mind raced with both excitement and trepidation. With cautious curiosity, you approached the window and slowly drew aside the heavy curtains.
There, standing on the window ledge, was a figure in a familiar black ensemble, adorned with a mask that concealed their features. Your breath caught as you recognized the emerald eyes that glinted mischievously from behind the mask – it was him, Sampo Koski, the charming "Thief" from that magical night.
With a mix of excitement and trepidation, you quickly unlatched the window, allowing him to step inside. The moonlight danced across his emerald eyes as he removed his mask, revealing his charming smile. "Surprised to see me?" he quipped, his voice a blend of mischief and warmth.
His eyes met yours, a mixture of playfulness and gratitude shining in his gaze. "Thank you for not betraying me that night," he said, his voice a velvet whisper.
You offered a faint smile, unable to deny the spark of attraction that flickered between you. "I could hardly bring myself to expose someone who had shared such an enchanting conversation with me."
As the two of you stood there, masked and shrouded in the moon's embrace, the air was thick with unspoken emotions. It was as though the world outside had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you suspended in this stolen moment.
Thick with unspoken emotions, it was as though the world outside had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you suspended in this stolen moment. Time seemed to stand still, the only sounds the hushed whispers of your breaths and the faint rustling of fabric. The intensity of the connection you shared was palpable, an invisible thread binding your souls together.
Sampo's emerald eyes bore into yours, his gaze unwavering and filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. With each heartbeat, the distance between you seemed to diminish, until it was almost imperceptible.
Sampo's lips curved into a gentle smile, his fingers entwined with yours. "You know, there's an old tale I once heard," he began, his voice a soothing melody that seemed to wrap around your heart. "It's about two souls who find each other in the most unexpected of places, bound by a fate that refuses to be denied."
You listened intently, captivated by his words, your breath hitching with every pause. "And what happens to these souls?" you whispered, your voice barely audible in the intimate space between you.
Sampo's gaze never wavered, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "They must make a choice – to embrace the connection that defies reason and convention, or to let fear dictate their path."
The weight of his words settled in the air, the gravity of the decision hanging over you both. You felt the rapid beat of your heart, a steady rhythm that seemed to synchronize with his own. With a newfound determination, you took a step closer, your bodies now nearly touching.
"Perhaps," you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies that danced within you, "it's time for us to make that choice."
Sampo's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of surprise and delight. "You're right," he agreed, his fingers grazing your cheek as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's time to let our hearts guide us."
In that moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, and it was just the two of you, standing on the precipice of something extraordinary. Sampo's gaze dropped to your lips, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in, his touch a feather-light caress against your skin.
Sampo's forehead rested against yours, his gaze filled with a newfound intensity. "I may be a thief of treasures, but you, my dear, have stolen something far more valuable – my heart."
A soft laugh escaped your lips, a melody of pure joy that danced between you. "And you, Sampo Koski, have captured my heart in a way that no mask could ever conceal."
His fingers tightened around yours, his touch a reassuring anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions. "I've always known that life is a delicate balance of risks and rewards," he mused, his voice a low murmur that resonated deep within you. "But meeting you has shifted that balance, made me see that the greatest risks are often the most rewarding."
You nodded, your heart swelling with an inexplicable warmth. "I used to think that my world was confined to the walls of this estate, to the expectations that come with my name. But you've shown me that there's a world beyond, full of mystery and adventure."
Sampo's thumb brushed against the back of your hand, his touch a soothing caress. "Then let us explore that world together.”
As the night wore on, the two of you continued to talk, your conversations ranging from dreams and aspirations to shared stories of past adventures. It was as though time had become an afterthought, and the connection between you grew stronger with each passing moment. The barriers that once separated your worlds had crumbled, leaving behind an unbreakable bond that defied convention.
Eventually, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, you realized that the night was coming to an end. Sampo's eyes met yours, a mixture of reluctance and determination in his gaze. "I wish I could stay longer, but the morning light is not my ally."
You nodded in understanding, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. "I know, Sampo. But this is just the beginning, isn't it? We have a world to explore, adventures to embark upon."
His fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch tender. "Indeed, my dear. And every step of that journey will be more vibrant and alive because you're by my side."
With a final, lingering touch, Sampo turned toward the window, his silhouette framed by the soft glow of dawn. As he prepared to slip away, he cast one last look in your direction, his eyes holding a promise of a future yet to be written.
"I'll find you," he whispered, his voice carrying a certainty that sent a thrill through your heart. And with that, he vanished into the early morning mist, leaving behind a sense of longing and anticipation.
As you watched him disappear, you knew that the story of Sampo Koski and the mysterious masquerade had only just begun. The pages of your own adventure were waiting to be filled, with moments of laughter, challenges to overcome, and a love that had the power to transcend even the most formidable of obstacles.
With a heart full of hope, you closed the window and turned back to the room, the memories of that enchanted night etched into your soul. The world beyond your estate's walls beckoned, and you were ready to step into it – unmasked, unafraid, and in love.
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Question: if Miss Raven (your OC) was put under Malleus' sleep spell like everyone else, what would she be dreaming about?
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Miss Raven would dream of the idyllic fairy tale world of a Disney animated film or musical production (including spontaneous song-and-dance sequences and dramatic soliloquies). Think like Enchanted!😂 She'd be the main character (freed of her curse, of course), able to spend her days singing in meadows, picking flowers, eating fresh bread (she shares with the local priest named Rollo), and sharing stories with the local townspeople. Oh, but what's this? An invitation to a grand ball has arrived for her! Miss Raven had better dress nicely for her big debut. Her friends are there to help--patient Silver with his animal friends (the mice can sew, and the birds make perfect bows!), compassionate Kalim with his endless smiles and budget, clever Ortho searching up the latest fashion trends to formulate the best look for her, and... Deuce who's there for moral support~ When the night of the ball comes, her Uncle Crowley can lead her in by the arm, warning her to have fun, but remember to be ready to go home by midnight or her father will worry. Her father, her creator, her mentor, the Storyteller--he's still alive in the dream, and she lives happily with him and her Uncle. Miss Raven makes the promise and skips off to enjoy herself, not knowing that she just may find not just fun, but also the prince of her dreams. (Who that is exactly, I'll leave that up to your imagination 🤡 Maybe it's an eel butler, maybe it's a huntsman maybe it's a lion)
(Malleus is off in some secluded corner of the ball, carefully observing her from a distance. Miss Raven was often the one weaving these stories--but now the roles have been reversed, with Malleus as the weaver and Raven as the character in the tale that has been woven. "Sweet dreams, young Crowley. Dream on, forever and ever.")
Basically, it's the kind of nice, peaceful life she expected she'd have when she first turned into a human.) The Miss Raven we know of now has become a little jaded and pessimistic from her life experiences like constantly being around the troublesome students of NRC. Despite this, she’s still a kid at heart and wants to believe in, and hope for, the best in others (though she tries desperately to cover these parts of herself up so she can appear as mature and strong to her peers). That's why her version of a “happy ending" reflects the more girlishly innocent, naive side to her, just like the stories she likes to write.
She's wished for her own happiness for so long, I think she'd easily fall into the trap and not realize it's all fake. As one wise and hopelessly optimistic Disney princess put it: "Everybody wants to live happily ever after." It would take some outside interference or dream world anomalies for her to realize that something is 'off' and snap out of it.
Bonus: I’ve been thinking about m!Raven lately (from an April Fools Day blog event), so I’ll talk a little about him too!
(Male) Raven’s idea of a happy ending is like an amalgamate of OG!Raven’s wishes and Vil’s desire to play the hero. Like the original Raven, m!Raven would be free of his curse in the dream. His ideal life has more adventure than OG!Raven’s 😂 and he gets to be a local pretty boy or something— indulge in his own markedly selfish desires whenever he wishes to.
Instead of being a pauper turned princess attending a ball, m!Raven wants to be the heroic prince the kingdom is throwing the ball to celebrate. He loves having the freedom to galavant and flirt among his subjects—but hey, who’s to say he won’t find a meaningful connection amongst all those in attendance? A partner to soothe the wild, wayward soul of the raven prince?
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blysse-and-blunder · 3 months
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in lieu of a reading week
11pm, tuesday, feb 20, 2024
hello beloveds. just wrote two increasingly passionate paragraphs about what social media and my use of it over the years has done to benefit my life, and got so genuinely moved that i had to come talk to you about it.
reading really wild mix of reading material of late. surprisingly high amount of YA, because people keep recommending me things and i keep going 'sure, let's try it!' so i'll use that as an organizing principle and save discussing some of the others for a future post. in order of completion:
firekeeper's daughter, angeline boulley, read by isabella lablanc. finished in a rush, very engaged in the last three-four hours. i was never prepared for the next thing this plot threw at me, though in retrospect saw how it all made sense. i didn't know a thing about it going in, which i think actually enriched the experience a lot, but for a novel set in michigan's UP and sugar island, it resonated with a lot of things i associate with ontario after living here for five+ years. the hockey, the ojibwe /anishinaabe names and cultural connections, the murdered and missing indigenous women. but it also mixes in elements reminiscent of, like, braiding sweetgrass (and tangentially mexican gothic) and various fan fiction tropes i recognized in their shape if not their execution. highly recommend the audiobook-- they cast the audiobook's narrator very carefully, and she does a superb job juggling the mix of scientific jargon, teen narrator unreliable/dramatic narrator (loving), and Anishinaabemowin.
castle in the clouds, kerstin gier, translated by romy fursland. maybe 33% through. it's giving grand budapest hotel and somehow also the princess diaries? it's also reminding me somehow of, like, the kind of novel i wanted to write as a second or third grader, which means eva ibbotson, and a particular flavor of plucky, intelligent heroine. i was hooked by the first page+ but have yet to see a ton more of the same high action and suspense, and have let this one slip a little further onto the back burner. it's cute escapism at the moment, though that may change.
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fourth wing, by rebecca yarros, read by rebecca soler (and apparently also teddy hamilton, although i haven't gotten to him yet?) about 25% through. trying desperately to give us a gritty, hardcore, new and dangerous and fun take on dragons and their human riders, while also trying to be idk divergent? the hunger games? there's a love triangle, the protagonist has naturally ombre hair, the premise of the novel is brutal training where young adults are all dying in improbable droves due to how cutthroat and brutal it is. a testament to the narrator that i am, despite myself, having a great time. there are a few too many supporting characters who want our main girl straight up dead for me to really find the threats believable, but i'm intrigued by the prospect of alternate versions of this world's history than what she has learned and a potential for discovering how their kingdom has? manipulated them? could be asking too much.
fairest, gail carson levine. finished in a long saturday morning spent reading in bed. i was such an intense and dedicated fan of the original ella enchanted novel that i couldn't read most of levine's other books (exceptions for her short stories made grudgingly) because they weren't sequels and weren't the same and wouldn't be as good. in fairness, reading this now as a much-older-than-the-intended audience, perhaps i was too harsh-- but i think little-me was right to be a little suspicious. it's a snow white retelling, and again i think largely successful in building a more detailed plot in which the elements of the retold fairy tale are embedded, but where the focus in ella was on language and obedience and free will, here we're trying to articulate things about beauty and body image, and it's harder to say that it really succeeds? i like that we gave the Wicked Queen more nuance, positive and negative qualities, moments of sympathy, a name and a precarious political position. i was not nearly as charmed by the romance (fine, fine, it's not ella and char but it couldn't be, it's fine). i still love the use of unfamiliar / fairy-tale languages and how levine puts them on the page in such fun spellings. probably aimed at the youngest audience, of the four titles here, but treats its reader as almost more intelligent than fourth wing, possibly? YA from ~twenty years ago was a different world.
listening graded like twenty quizzes today with just a mess of random panic at the disco bumping in my headphones. it's a hell of a feeling, etc. i'm halfway through this particular round of grading, and they're doing so well, so it's mainly a quick check to make sure they got the basics right and i can jam while doing so.
watching spent a very pleasant ~2 hours yesterday watching as much as we could of the film amadeus with @hematiterings, @pep-squad-lizzie, and @dimir-charmer. love a film that isn't afraid to lean into all its sensory indulgences, and to be a little heavy-handed with its symbolism (the chocolate is about repression!) and to, just generally, spend money on costumes, locations, hiring lots of extras, and so many wigs. there's a live event performance of this film with orchestra + choir being advertised all over our subway right now, so it does very much feel like we're being followed by this guy:
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...but what's sticking in my head right now is the costumes.
playing 41+ hours into hollow knight. i have opened half of my stag stations! i have the dream nail, surprisingly early i think! i have saved bretta! i have somehow missed the mantis lords, i think, but have made it to the city, the resting grounds, and have now been throwing myself fruitlessly against the crystal guardian and a soul warrior in alternation. i am...not good at combat. current plan is to grind to get quick focus, and i'm close! also, @spoonierbard stepped in and gave me a much needed morale boost by winning me the final mask shard necessary to get increased lives, which has helped tremendously, and the grubs rewarded me with the grub song charm which has helped tremendously.
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making many potential projects, none executed (or even really attempted). soon, hopefully. fallow section for now. does music count? music counts, right? i joined a second choir! enticed by the chance to perform mozart's requiem in full with an orchestra, and finally fulfill the broken promise of 2020. that's my hobby right now. oh i also just cleaned out a ton of storage in my phone + icloud, which felt generative in its own way. besides backing things up better than i have in a while.
working on submitted the travel money application i've been thinking and dithering about since...this time last year? no real expectation of getting it, but it did actually help me consider some next steps in the diss, so that's nice. now prepping to take my class on two fun on-campus field trips next week, one to the manuscript library and one to the medieval collection in our little hidden art museum! i need to write some notes up for the TAs and docents to use, and finish organizing my list of desired manuscripts, like, yesterday. midterm grades posted today, a little late but hopefully not too bad, still well before the drop date. the aforementioned quizzes (i have like 28 more to grade, but they're reasonably painless). plus i was going to work on my fucking dissertation this week, and prep to teach the next few lectures in advance so i'm not scrambling monday nights, plus send a bunch of emails, design a CFP poster, put in some RAship hours so i can speak intelligently in my meeting tomorrow, and....prep for the guest lecture i'm giving on the 28th! it's a reskin of the conference paper i gave this summer, freshly edited, but i need to expand the intro bits to include a useful overview, since these students aren't a conference of celticists.
weirdly at peace with how my work-life balance is balancing right now, though. it's the extra sleep and the increased sunshine, and the little cat who is being so so whiny right now. i must conclude these lines and feed Herself.
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mysunfreckle · 1 year
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I’m very interested in the presence of the fairies in Neverafter…
Because the way the fairies are is one of the things that has been changed from the fairy tales D20 is working with. And I’m operating on the assumption that if it was worth changing it’s worth paying attention to
Rosamund's fairies:
Oddly enough we have not met any of Rosamun's fairies yet....probably. We've heard all four of them described in Brennan's opening narration, but no one got to interact with them. But Rosamund's story is the one that has been changed:
Grimm’s Briar Rose has twelve good fairies, not three, and the thirteenth is the wrathful one who was purposefully not invited because there were only twelve golden dishes. While she is called a fairy, she is described as clad in black, with a broomstick, so I’d forgive anyone who misidentified her as a witch.
Perrault’s The Sleeping Beauty in the Woods has seven fairies, with the eighth being the old, forgotten fairy who is accidentally not invited.
The change to three (plus one) fairies could just be because three is a more manageable number and also with very good fairy tale pedigree, or it could be because of Disney. But the "four great fairies of the kingdom (of Reverie)" might also be significant in some other way. One for beauty, one for grace, one for...?
Gerard's fairy:
Grimm’s Cinderella (Aschputtel) has no fairies, but Perrault’s Cinderella (Cendrillon) has the famous fairy godmother. Who, interestingly, is only helpful. She does not punish. But here she is also the fairy that transformed the Frog-Prince:
In the Grimm translation D20 shared The Frog-Prince the enchantment was laid by “a spiteful fairy”, but in many English translations it is a “wicked witch” and that is the word used in the 1857 edition of the Grimms’ fairy tales (in the 1812 edition there is no explanation for how the transformation happened).
The fairy tale also does not state that the Prince was transformed as a punishment. This sounds more like the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast, where the beast is transformed by a fairy to punish his pride, whereas in the most well known version of that fairy tale (de Beaumont’s), the fairy transforms him simply because she is “wicked”. Of course Gerard’s story would not work without it being a punishment and it makes for a much more interesting narrative, but it does muddle the waters between Good Fairy and Wicked Fairy. It’s suddenly a matter of perspective.
Pinochio's fairies:
We haven’t met Pinocchio’s good Fairy yet (if she is good in Neverafter), but we have seen the evil fairy who turned him back into a puppet when he lied about his fathers name (something that probably saved his father’s life). Now I wonder: is this the same Evil Fairy that cursed Rosamund?
I’ve seen it suggested that this evil fairy and the Stepmother are the same person, but that seems odd, considering the Stepmother claims she cares for Pinocchio and his father. Sure she’s probably lying, but if she was that fairy Pinocchio wouldn’t be fooled and it seems he is, even if he’s also afraid of her. I still think his Stepmother is also Cinderella and Snow White’s Stepmother, so in that case she might be a Wicked Witch. She is also Pinocchio's patron, which might make her a fairy, but she calls the Fairy Godmother a "little fairy", which sounds like she's at least not the same type of fairy as she is.
If this Pinocchio’s good Fairy is like the one in his book, she is the Fairy with the Azure Hair (I struggle with her, because Pinocchio is not a folk- or fairy tale, but she is famous). She is described first adopting Pinocchio as her little brother, but later as she grows up (she was already) becomes his mother. She protects him, seems to be the reason his nose starts growing when he lies, and turns him human in the end when he has learned to be kind and obedient. So whether she's seen as good or bad in this universe is anyone's guess.
So, we've met two fairies in game and both of them seem to be bad, but perhaps weren't always intended to be so.
Because right now it sounds like Cinderella rebelled against the narrative her Fairy Godmother tried to force her into, but… maybe there’s something more afoot. The Fairy Godmother did insist “we are trying to help”, so maybe we’ll meet the other fairies after all...
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foundtherightwords · 5 months
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The Firebird - Chapter 1
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Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, fairytale AU
Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.
Chapter warning: none
Chapter word count: 3.5k
A/N: The real Paul I of Russia was kind of a jerk and came to such a sticky end (assassinated by his own officers) that I couldn't think of something realistic or historically accurate for him, so I had to put him into an AU. Plus, I've always loved Slavic fairy tales/folk tales, and it's been really fun working them into a fic. This is mostly based on Prince Ivan, the Firebird and the Gray Wolf, but there are elements from other tales as well.
I include a few Russian words for authenticity's sake. In case the meaning isn't clear from the text itself, there will be a translation at the bottom of the chapter.
Chapter 1
Once upon a time...
That is how these things often start, isn't it? Very well, then that is how we shall begin our tale.
Once upon a time, across thrice-nine lands, in a thrice-tenth kingdom, there lived a prince named Paul, a tsarevich, as sons of emperors and empresses of that land were called. Paul was the sole heir to a vast and powerful empire, but to own the truth, unlike the princes of the old stories, Paul himself was not noble or heroic, both in appearance and temperament. He could have been quite handsome if he had let his natural features shine instead of hiding them under the fashionable rouge and powder of those days. He could have been quite charming if his behaviors and expressions were a little more agreeable. He wished to rule but didn't know how or care to learn. He simply assumed that respect and power were owed him, and turned sulky and surly when he didn't get them, which was all the time.
Well, who could blame him? He was caught between two powerful and ambitious women—his father's aunt, the Empress Elizabeth, who had brought him up, and his mother, the Empress Catherine. Catherine, who had taken the throne from Paul's father, Emperor Peter, was a tenacious and ruthless ruler, and she loathed having to share her power. She kept Paul away from all matters of court and country, insisting that his sole and most important duty was to make an advantageous marriage and produce an heir for her. Perhaps she wished to raise this heir as she had not been allowed to raise Paul, and pass the throne directly onto him without having to go through her son, the son who reminded her so much of her feeble-minded husband.
Paul didn't remember his father. He was overthrown when Paul was just a boy, and died soon after—some said murdered by his own wife. He existed in Paul's mind less as a father and more as an abstract idea, an act of defiance against his mother.
And so Paul grew up from a sullen boy into a sullen young man, smothered by his grandmother, unloved and unwanted by his mother, and barely tolerated by the servants, for all that they waited on him hand and foot.
Yet for all his flaws, no evil thought resided in Paul's mind, no harmful desire coursed through his veins. He merely longed for his mother's affection, or, failing that, her acceptance. He longed, like any young man did, to prove his worth. But what was his worth? And how could he prove it, if he didn't know what it was?
As I've said, the empire to which Paul was heir is a vast one. Just how vast, nobody quite knows. It stretches from East to West, from ocean to ocean, and contains the loftiest, iciest mountains and the flattest, most arid steppes, the densest forests and the widest rivers. Though countless attempts had been made by cartographers and explorers to conquer its farthest reaches, many remained uncharted. Yet there are parts of the empire that very few know exist, and even fewer have seen. They stand just above the tall peaks or below the deep lakes, their entrances hidden behind a lightning-struck tree or inside a dark cavern. Look for them, and you'll never find them. During those times when the earth meets the sky, right before daybreak, on moonlit nights, or as dusk is falling, you may spy their denizens just out of the corner of your eyes, dancing in the water or flying on a magic horse, or moving about in their chicken-legged hut. But turn around to look more closely and you'll realize it's nothing but a branch breaking, a flock of birds suddenly taking flight, or a hare jumping back into its burrow.
Every child of the land knows the tales of those strange, hidden corners and their inhabitants, of Koschei the Deathless and Baba Yaga, of Ivan Tsarevich and Vasilisa the Beautiful. Paul, too, grew up with them, as told to him by an old, sad Fool dressed in motley clothes who hung about his mother's court. But as he grew older, he saw those tales as nonsense. There were always rules in the tales, but those rules never made sense. Why was it always the third prince or the youngest daughter who succeeded in their quests? Why was the orphan always aided by a wise old man or an enchanted doll or a talking horse? Well, he was an orphan of sorts—his father was dead and his mother barely even looked at him—so where was his magical helper? Then, as he grew older still, those tales were replaced by reports of conquests of foreign parts, lessons of history and politics, and whispers of how his mother had staged a coup and killed his father for the throne, of the illegitimate children she had hidden away. And so Paul had forgotten the fairy tales, dismissing them as absurd, fanciful yarn designed to fool only children. He was no longer a child; he was close to reaching his majority and must focus his attention on more serious matters.  
That was until the day he saw the firebird.
It was an early summer day in Tsarskoye Selo, the Tsar's Village. The court had recently moved to the Summer Palace there, and the Empress Catherine was spending half of her time mooning over that brainless oaf Potemkin who, blessed be the Saints, was away at war, and the other half of her time carrying it on with the even more brainless oaf Vasilchikov, in what Paul thought was a disgusting display of wantonness, unsuitable for any woman of her age, let alone an Empress. To make matters worse, Paul had turned eighteen over six months ago, yet she showed no sign of wanting to grant him more responsibility. Despite constant hints from his governor Panin and Paul himself, the Empress only gave noncommittal answers, telling Paul that he was going to inherit the throne, probably, one day, answers that meant to assure and only did the opposite. And she had taken to finding him a bride. Day after day, instead of attending the council or other court functions, he was forced to shift through miniatures after miniatures of all the major and minor princesses of Europe, searching for one that may catch his eye. In truth, none of them caught his eyes. They all looked the same, with their vacant gazes and simpering smiles, their powdered wigs and rouged cheeks. They all looked as though they were mocking him.
To escape the endless barrage of potential brides, Paul went to the barrack and gathered up his soldiers for drilling. This brigade, given to him by the Empress as a birthday present, was the one bright spot in Paul's days, but now he began to suspect, like the matter of finding a bride, it was just another way his mother sought to distract him. But at least it gave him something to do, and as he roared at the soldiers and reveled in the way they obeyed his commands, he dreamed of a day his mother may allow him to take them to war, or better yet, when she may be threatened by a coup—not a serious one, like the one that deposed his father, but a coup nonetheless, which he knew was a possibility, as many believed the empire shouldn't be ruled by a woman—and he would sweep in with his soldiers to save the day.
"My father was the father of his people," he shouted. This had been drilled into his head by his grandmother and his tutors until Paul no longer knew if it was what he truly believed or what he should believe. Both had blended into one in his mind. "And one day I will fulfill the duties and responsibilities of that role. I will lead a disciplined army of soldiers to make his dream for this great country come true!"
So perhaps it was unfortunate that his mother caught him just then.
By the thunderous look on her face as she called him into her private study, Paul knew he was in for another dressing down. His knees shook, and he hated himself for it, hated his mother for making him feel like a child. There was nothing else to do but to face her. Perhaps he could convince her and show how much he could be of use to her.
That hope disappeared the moment his mother spoke. "Are you planning your own little coup?" she barked, her sharp voice lashing at him like a whip. Paul almost cowered. He knew cowering would only bring on harsher words from his mother, so he forced himself to stand up straight. It was no use. She was relentless. "Is that what this is all about? Well you won't succeed, young man. The army is loyal to me. And the peasants will do as they are told. That is the truth." Paul was going to point out that there were talks of a peasant revolt, but his mother cut him off before he could utter a word. "It would be a terrible mistake to go against me," she snarled. "Because I know more about politics than you ever will. You would not last two minutes as a ruler!"
And whose fault is that? Paul wanted to scream. Whose fault was it that he didn't know what to do, what was expected of him? This was what his mother did, depriving him of power and agency and then admonishing him for rebelling against it. His blood boiled with the injustice of it all.
"And all your drilling with your little toy soldiers will get you nowhere at all. You see, power—power is a balancing act," she said. The gloating in her voice was more than he could bear, and he turned away again, gripping the pommel of his ceremonial sword until it dug painfully into his palm. "You have to learn how to walk the line. I would remind you always to remember from where your power, if you are ever to have any, which I doubt, will derive."
Those last few words made him pause. Did she just threaten to exclude him from succession? So she had been planning it all along, hadn't she? For all her talk about how Paul would rule one day, she had never truly wanted to share her power. He whirled around to face her, his face white with barely concealed rage.
"What do you mean, if I'm ever to have any power?" he said, biting out every word. "I shall rule! It is my birthright! You cannot deny me my birthright!"
"This is my country, you stupid boy!" Judging by her shout, it seemed his mother had realized her blunder and was trying to cover it up with a show of authority, as she always did. "Look for a bride! Get me an heir!"
"What am I to you, a breeding bull?" Paul snapped and had the brief satisfaction of seeing his mother flinch. He stormed off before she could think of a way to further punish him.
He went into his room, but the silk-covered walls and the gilded furniture felt like a cage closing in on him, making it hard to breathe. Tears of anger and frustration stung his eyes, and they fuelled the flame of his rage even more. He was a prince, and old enough to be Emperor, for God's sake, yet here he was, crying like a little boy being scolded by his mama! He stumbled outside, made his way to the stables, and shouted at the grooms to saddle a horse for him. He needed to get away from the palace, away from the court and its scheming, sycophantic courtiers, away from his mother and the chain she put around him. He urged the horse into a gallop and headed toward the woods that surrounded Tsarskoye Selo.
Paul didn't know how long or how far he'd ridden, when he suddenly became aware of the quietness of his surroundings. The birches, oaks, and lindens formed a green, whispering dome over his head, while thick growth underfoot muffled even the sound of the horse's hooves. He slowed the horse to a walk and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Even in this tranquil forest, his rage refused to subside.
If only she would die! Women her age and even younger were dropping dead every day. Why, even the Empress Elizabeth had died when she was not much older than his mother, yet his mother insisted on staying alive and being in the best of health, as though to spite him. When Paul was younger, he would have been ashamed and frightened of having such violent, vitriolic thoughts about his own mother, but now, he no longer bothered to keep them in check and even took a grim satisfaction from them.
A rustling sound, louder and more erratic than the swishing of the leaves, momentarily distracted him from those dark thoughts. He went around a thick grove of lindens and saw what was making the noise.
It was a bird, stuck in a bramble bush. It wasn't very big, about the size of a magpie, and appeared to be injured. One of its wings hung stiffly by its side, and it kept trying to lift itself out of the tangle of vines and thorns, to no avail.
But the bird's plight wasn't what drew Paul's attention—it was its plumage, the strangest and most magnificent he had ever seen, all shades of iridescent red and gold, glowing like a fireball in the last rays of the sun that speared through the trees. Its graceful tail feathers fluttered behind it like tongues of flame every time it made yet another futile leap over the bush. Yet, oddly enough, other than the flapping of its wings, the bird made no sound. There was none of the distressed twittering or cries that an animal would make in the same circumstances.
An unearthly feeling settled over Paul as he watched that ethereal bird. Half-forgotten memories of his childhood came trickling back, those long winter nights when he couldn't sleep and left his nursery—he didn't exactly have to sneak out, since none of his nurses and governesses paid any attention to him anyway—in search of the old Fool, who could always be found wandering the corridors of the palace at all hours. The Fool was the only one who treated Paul as a child and not a prince. "Well, what do you want, boy?" he would ask upon seeing Paul's forlorn face peeping out from behind a marble column.
"A story," Paul would reply.
"A story? Let's see now... Did I ever tell you about Little Bear's Son?"
And Paul would let himself get lost in the story until he fell asleep somewhere. He'd never gotten reprimanded for leaving his bed at night, because once the servants found out what he had been doing, they simply locked the door to the nursery. No more midnight fairy tales. No more fairy tales altogether.
Now, looking at the bird, Paul felt the same way he had while listening to the old Fool's stories. His anger and worries about his mother and the throne melted like ice under the sun, leaving only a childlike desire to capture that beauty, not to possess it, but only to hold it for a moment, to convince himself that it was real.
Cautious not to make any sudden movement or sound, he climbed down from the saddle and approached the bramble bush, thankful that the luxuriant summer grass and fallen leaves of many winters past were rendering his tread noiseless on the forest floor. The bird, still desperate to escape its thorny prison, seemed to take no notice of him. This close, Paul realized it was indeed injured—blood was still dripping from a wound on its wing, staining the gold feathers red, though it was from the thorns or something else, he did not know. Slowly, slowly, not daring to even breathe, he reached out, pulling the brambles back with one hand. The thorns were so sharp he could feel them through his kid gloves, but he ignored them. Gently pushing the brambles out of the way, he grabbed for the bird with his other hand.
There!
His hand closed around the feathered body, which was surprisingly hot to the touch, a fire that seeped through his glove, all the way to his bones. Bewildered, Paul looked more closely at his catch and noticed that its eyes, instead of being small and beady like most birds', were rather large and human-looking, except they were golden, like an eagle's. Before he could contemplate this oddity, however, the bird screeched—a horribly humanlike sound it was too—and the fire from its body was no longer warming but scorching. With a startled yelp, Paul loosened his fingers, and the bird, now free of the brambles, dove straight into his face, its good wing hitting him in the eye, blinding him, and, with a wriggle, freed itself from his hand, leaving behind only a tail feather.
When Paul's eyes cleared, he saw that the bird was a mere flash of gold amongst the trees, almost disappearing into the sunset. The feather in his hand gleamed and shimmered like gold, its heat still palpable even through his glove. There were some scorch marks on the glove where the bird had burned him, and a few drops of blood as well.
Tucking the feather into an inner pocket of his coat, he jumped back on the saddle and spurred the horse forward. Like a child who would happily sustain scratches and bruises while climbing over rocks and wading through streams to run after a beautiful butterfly, there was no thought in his mind but the chase. Far from deterring him, those scorch marks only made him long to feel that strange fire in his palm again. He couldn't explain why that yearning was so strong; he didn't even stop to think about it. He simply gave chase.
Through trees and bushes, heedless of the branches that stung as they snapped across his face, heedless of the violent bumping and jostling of the gallop, over shallow brooks and swamps that sucked at the horse's hooves, Paul kept after the firebird. The bird flew with astonishing speed, and only the injured wing kept it within Paul's sight, as it flitted, mockingly, through the green vault that surrounded him, always ahead but only just, always a finger's tip out of his reach.
A grove of silver birches rose before him, rows after rows of ruler-straight, snow-white columns, new leaves turning darker green in the gathering dusk. The bird flew through two birches growing close together, their crooked trunks twisting away from each other while their branches met overhead, forming an arch. The flash of gold winked in and out as the bird faltered and dipped, and Paul bent down until his face was almost pressed into the horse's neck, his heels dug into its flanks, his arm outstretched. Almost—almost—
The horse reared up with a frightened whinny, throwing Paul off the saddle.
The leaf-strewn forest floor softened his fall, but it did nothing for his temper. "Stupid beast!" he snarled, not noticing how the horse was nervously pawing the air in front of the crooked trees with its front legs, refusing to go through. He only saw that the bird was disappearing.
Without a look back, he leaped through the opening between the birches and ran after his quarry.
The bird seemed to be tiring. It dipped behind a thicket of saplings that grew on the edge of the grove, their roots covered by ferns and other undergrowth, and didn't come back up. Paul grinned. He got it cornered now.
The trees were thinner here. As he approached the thicket, he could glimpse a meadow just beyond, and hear the murmur of a nearby stream. The red glow at the edge of the world was fading into soft pink, turning the sky a bluish gray and throwing the forest into a shadowy twilight.
A brief glow seemed to emanate from the thicket and was gone in an instant, which Paul chalked up to a trick of the dying light. The bush rustled. The weary bird must have thought it could hide in there until it was safe to come out again. For a moment, Paul felt rather sorry for the poor creature, but his curiosity was stronger.
He leaned down and spread the foliage apart.
His jaw dropped.
There was no sign of the bird. Lying there, amongst the ferns and tall grass, was a girl.
Her long, red hair covered most of her body. Between the wavy tresses, he could glimpse a delicate shoulder blade, an arm bearing an angry wound that was still weeping blood, and bare legs curled up in exhaustion.
At the sound of his gasp, she lifted her head slightly and regarded him with a sullen eye. 
"What?" she said. "Have you never seen an undressed woman before?"
Chapter 2
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A/N: I have no idea what "thrice-nine lands" and "thrice-ten kingdoms" mean. That's just how every Russian fairy tale begins.
The exchange between Empress Catherine and Paul was taken almost verbatim from Episode 2 of the show.
Taglist: @ali-r3n
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