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#he courts her because he feels it’s his obligation as the only son to marry a girl/settle down/etc

qierxing · 1 month

Text

Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

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you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life.

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort.

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you.

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them.

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie.

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls.

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words.

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you.

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe.

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day.

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first.

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why.

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one.

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son.

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere.

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need.

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining.

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time.

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest.

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face.

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces.

Something changes after that night.

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness.

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along?

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles.

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter.

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare.

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you.

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way.

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you.

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner.

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame.

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties.

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive.

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin.

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly.

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

#yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere heartslabyul #yandere reader insert #a wip i had in storage forever and didn't think i would ever get to finishing but here we are babeyyyyy #i am projecting har dbu talso mmmmmmmmmmmmheartslabyul rights

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

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👉🏽👈🏽 spare any jjk faerie au headcanons you have cooked up for a desperate lass?

of course because man do i have some thoughts as a lover of faeries. i could probably go on about this for hours

gojou satoru | elf

a prince hailing from a seelie court

his very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth and his eyes are ones that can see mana and the shape of the soul among other things

presents himself as a revel-loving fool he simply enjoys games, but he is a lot more observant and calculating than he lets on

in his youth he often toted on and on about the stupidity of love, likening it to more of a curse and an ailment that turned the sane into fools so outside of the obligation of having heirs, he doesn't desire love in the slightest

until he meets falls in love at first sight with you, a banshee who saved his life when you coincidentally happened to be passing by after he found himself in a bloody situation

causes the entire court to go into an uproar when he immediately announces his intentions to make you his queen never mind the fact you haven't even accepted his proposal yet

his mother doesn't like you in the slightest. she gave birth to one whose very birth has shaken the earth and if her son is going to marry anyone it is going to be someone more fitting of that position

satoru ignores all that in favor of doing his best to woo you now that you're stuck living in his palace until a revel thrown in your honor passes

yes he knows this very much so makes him a hypocrite but he doesn't want anyone else

asks you all sorts of question about being a banshee. how your cries work, if there are different wails for different situations, how long you've been heralding death

at least you know the man is nothing if not passionate. it's hard resisting his charms as he asks you gently each time to marry him. you think you just might say yes when you feel the ghost of his lips against yours

getou suguru | phouka

if he isn't being an advisor to seelie prince satoru, suguru is a human-hating phouka who is, unfortunately, stuck living with one

unlike humans, the folk are creatures who keep their word so when you are able to best him in something for a favor he's inclined to keep his promise

and yes, he promises that he won't harm you or your loved ones after your deal has come to a close. yes, this includes things you personally consider harmful ranging from murder to physical attacks

for a human, you're quite clever in looking out for any loopholes. you apparently weren't lying when you said you were a faerie enthusiast

but that's the extent of suguru's praise when he learns why you were so adamant to find a faerie to help with your problems ー

apparently you took a botany elective thinking it would be an easy A only to now be just barely passing the class

yes, that's right. you want a member of the folk, a phouka, to be a glorified tutor until the end of the semester just to make sure you don't get a failing grade. apparently, suguru gave you far too much credit

still, you end up growing on him overtime with your sense of humor and you're way of looking at things. he hates to put it so simply but he supposes you aren't like other humans he has come across

(suguru later nearly destroys your textbook because he himself grows frustrated with your class. the human sciences are just as confusing to him as it is you. but your grade has technically improved since he began helping you so it's not entirely a loss is it?)

nanami kento | elf-kobold hybrid

an elf-kobold hybrid with horns that gently curve atop his head akin to an imperial demon

a record keeper often has work writing down events as they take place as well as organizing historical texts as he sees fit. it's a tiring and thankless job but it is something his family has been doing for generations and he sees no reason to break tradition now

the one saving grace he has are naps he enjoys taking between late afternoon and dusk, religiously, by a lake close to the palace

you're a swan maiden who calls the lake home and his quiet company. it's winter in the human realm and rather than fly south with your flock, you decided to spend the season in faerie and decided that particular lake would be home

you're a playful, impish thing who enjoys presenting nanami with riddles as he grows tired and you watch over him to keep him safe while he sleeps. a deal you've both made in favor of him bringing you delicious sweets from the palace

it's quite the favorable deal for you both

of course, inevitably you two get to talking and find yourselves having more and more in-depth conversations as the week goes by

what would nanami do if he decided to break family tradition?

where have you traveled in the human realm?

as a swan maiden, you seldom ever take off your cloak of feathers. there's no reason to ask, nanami knows the rules that swan maiden and selkies follow. should your cloak or coat be taken, you're forced to follow their will

as such, nanami never refers to your coat in the slightest. he never even asks about it

it's a great sign of trust among your kind to ever be vulnerable with your cloak. something nanami learns first hand when he wakes up one particular evening and finds that you have covered him with your cloak to make sure he stays warm

fushiguro toji | boggart

a lord in an unseelie court of faerie, who works in service to the high king as his sword

had a mortal wife who died centuries ago and together they had a half-human son

his son lives among humans presently and while they don't readily talk to one another, toji often has his men sent to the human realm to watch over his son and give him reports on his wellbeing

doesn't imagine himself ever loving someone he did his wife again until running across you a human who stumbled into the wrong mound

allows you to stay in his fief until it is otherwise safe for you to return home

you say you're a dancer so you dance for him and keep him entertained as a sort of thanks for not promptly killing you when you trespassed on his territory

the tension between you both is palpable to many. his staff who are forced to wait on your hand and foot as his guest and to the gentry you see at unseelie revels

the ones that gossip about how it isn't strange for toji to take human lovers

and yet despite that, no matter how close you get, toji keeps a distance between you both that. he fell in love with a human once, still remembers the sting of watching his beloved wife grow old and wither away in front of his very eyes

it's a pain he doesn't want to revisit ever again

okkotsu yuuta | human

unlike most stories of selkies and their evil human spouses, you're marriage with yuuta is quite the happy one in the seaside town you call home

yours was an accidental love story where he accidentally caught you in his net, only to release you

the next day, you brought piles of fresh fish and crabs and shrimp by his beachside home as thanks, much to his confusion as to where the catch came from

you usually followed his boat when he goes to fish and he learns how to recognize you, often laughing sheepishly when he saw you, warning you not to get too close so you don't end up in the net again

it isn't until a stormy night when yuuta fell overboard that you did anything drastic such as save his life, taking him to the shore and giving him cpr

you stayed with him all night until the storm passed keeping him warm

when yuuta woke up to seeing a beautiful, naked person by his side, he was understandably surprised. even more so when you transformed into a seal right in front of him. that was his introduction to the folk, to magic

now he's surrounded by you and your ocean-filled magic everyday in your little cottage by the sea

you come and go as you please, sometimes for weeks sometimes even for months at a time depending on the time of year

but you always come back and yuuta is happy to see you every time

#look she's answering #anon #jjk faerie au #headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #yuuta x reader

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odyssean-flower · 8 months

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The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal

Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster

Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi

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A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.

In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.

And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...

It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.

“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.

“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.

Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.

The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.

You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.

You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.

The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.

It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”

You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.

You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.

“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.

“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.

“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.

“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”

You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.

Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.

The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?

You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—

“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”

You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.

“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.

“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.

“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.

“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.

“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.

“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”

Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.

“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”

“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”

“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.

Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.

“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”

You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”

Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.

His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”

Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”

“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”

You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?

“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.

He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”

The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?

“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.

"What do you like about it?”

That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”

No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.

Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.

You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”

Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.

Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”

“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”

“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”

“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”

Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.

“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”

With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.

The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.

Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.

The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.

You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.

“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”

“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?

“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.

“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”

“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”

“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.

An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.

You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.

“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”

“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.

Neuvillette repeated his question.

“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”

“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”

A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.

“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”

You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.

You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.

“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”

“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”

Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”

Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”

You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”

“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”

“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.

“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”

“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”

“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”

“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.

The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.

“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”

“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”

You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.

“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”

The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.

“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”

You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”

“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”

You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.

For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.

There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.

But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.

“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”

“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”

“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.

A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.

You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.

So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.

You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?

And what were you going to do from now on?

You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.

You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.

Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.

Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.

“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."

Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.

He sat down across from you.

“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”

You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...

You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.

You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.

It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.

You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.

It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.

Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?

You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.

Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”

You simply nodded. What else was there to say.

“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”

You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?

Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.

“What do you propose, Monsieur?”

“Marry me.”

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #my works #the winding path of fate

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vivalarevolution · 2 years

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𝓜𝔂 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓚𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻

Aegon Targaryen x Sister Targaryen Oc

Summary: Rhaenerys loved her siblings, especially her brother, whom she was willing to steal from under green's nose to keep him safe.

A/N: It’s not my best work but I hope you all gonna like it nonetheless.

English is not my native language. Sorry for any mistakes.

Part 2

Rhaenerys was Rhaenyra's younger sister. Born a year later, she was nothing that her father had imagined. Until now, she remembered his words.

-The maester said it was a son, he had to be. How he kicked, how energetic and strong he was- Viserys had repeated through most of her childhood years.

The woman tried to ignore how much his words affected her, but eventually she began to live with them, transforming them into her strength. She was stubborn, temperamental, and clever, winning her place among the royal court , but her heart remained the same. Kind and loving to those who she loved.

Her older sister and she were inseparable. They were a rock and peace for each other. When their mother died, when their dear friend married their father, or when the world forgot about them the moment their younger siblings were conceived into the world. They clung to each other as if they were eachother last bit of hope.

Only then did Viserys begin to notice his second daughter. He began to notice her dedication, her kind soul and hardened spirit. He tried to be supportive as Rhaenerys stared blankly at the wall after hearing the news that she would never be able to have children of her own, tried to treat her as equal to the older Targeryen, unconsciously loving her more than ever before.

The princess did not show it, for her subjects she was a tough and self-confident woman, but inside she felt defeated, lonely.

Many men followed her with their eyes, not hiding their lust, but she stubbornly pushed them away, knowing that she would not give them what the lords wanted most - an extension of their legacy.

However, there were also those whom she let into her bed. Ser Criston or Harwin Strong were the ones her heart cried out to, but the white-haired woman ignored her feelings each time, eventually pushing them away to watch her sister take them into her chambers.

Over the years, she had finally accepted punishment from the gods.

She had no choice but to start living with it, because the curse had no intention of disappearing from her life anyway, so Rhaenerys turned her bitterness into love for her family, which grew drastically quickly, bringing with it equally drastic changes.

Her younger siblings spoke to her very often, and despite Rhaenyra's silent objections, she had nothing to say, watching the love she once received passes to her younger siblings.

Ageon probably loved her the most. She was the first person that did not instill in him the obligation to reign, or didn't beat him when he did something inappropriate. As it used to be for her older sister, the violet-eyed princess became a peaceful haven for the boy.

He often dreamed of her as his mother or lover. She was all he needed, making him a better and more decent man.

But when she disappeared for six years, hiding in Dragonstone with the king's eldest daughter, her uncle and their children, the white-haired man began to return to what his mother's upbringing had created, to the drunkard who slept with another woman every night.

When she found out about it, she wasn’t furious but disappointed and she didn’t even knew in who more, herself or the fair-haired prince.

Sitting on the great bed, in the royal chambers, the silver-haired girl tried not to cry. Seeing her dying father was hard for her. Rhaenerys was convinced that Viserys had become a living corpse, and his great suffering was evident in his uncover eye.

Holding him by the hand, he told him about what was happening on Dragonstone, staying longer in his presence than Daemon and Rhaenyra, who left her alone with her parent for a moment.

She felt as if everything was starting to fall apart, and the sight of her brother only confirmed it.

Entering his room, she found a real mess. The smell of alcohol wafted through the air, and the prince himself lay on the creased sheets, snoring. The white-haired woman approached him, looking at his body from above, unconsciously combing his silver strands, as she used to do when he was still a child.

Aegon muttered under his breath as he tucked his face into the pillow, fearing that Alicent had decided to pay him a visit again.

-Aegon - the woman said, her velvety voice immediately recognized by the young man.

Frowning in consternation, he opened his eyes to see the Trageryen in front of him who had haunted his dreams too many times.

-Rhaenerys?- he asked in a hoarse voice, trying to force himself to awake.

-I came back - she informed him, walking away from the prince's bed, when he decided to get up.

Violet-eyed man grinned, hugging her tightly. Snuggling against her body, he hid his head in the crease of her neck, inhaling the familiar and soothing scent that surrounded the princess.

-I missed you - he confessed, overjoyed at the presence of his beloved sister, but she did not answer -What's the matter?- he asked confused, looking at her purple irises- Why are you looking at me like that? Rhaenerys please don't look at me like that- he whispered, seeing the same emotions that the queen often looked at him with.

-What happened to you?- she asked, touching his cheek, which was slightly flushed.

-You weren't here. You left me, and my mother still demands more of me. I can't handle it, you left me alone -he complained.

-Will you drink yourself to death with a prostitute by your side every time I leave you alone? - asked the daughter of the king - Aegon, I will not be with you all my life - the white-haired girl replied, catching his face in her hands to look him straight in the eyes.

-I'm sorry -he said, and the first tears began to run down his face.- I'll stop, just don't leave me, please- he croaked, falling into her arms.

Rhaenerys wrapped her arms around him tightly, kissing his temple, she stroked his head with her free hand, motherly rocking him from side to side to soothe his brother, if only slightly.

-Now, now - she whispered soothingly -There are things that need to be taken care of, Aegon, then I'm all yours - she added, and her younger brother squeezed her body tighter in an act of silent objection, but the silver-haired woman knew that no matter how much he would not like it ,the young man will agree to anything, as long as she will be around him.

Staring at the wall opposite them, she struggled with her thoughts. She felt as if she were faced with a choice between her sister and her brother, whom she loved too much to gain one at the expense of the other.

And oh, how quickly and unexpectedly she was told to make that choice.

As she ran through Kings Landing, the woman was desperately searching for the white-haired man.

The king is dead. This words still echoed in her head like bells, pounding in her ears.

She stayed in the capital because of her younger siblings, only to become a prisoner of the castle the next day.

She and Rhaenys were furious and deaf at Alicent's offer to convince them to join her and her son. And when an opportunity arose in the form of a gap created by a white worm, they both fled out of the Red Keep, hidden behind wide hoods , hiding in the large group of people.

-Wait- said the princess.

-We don't have time for this Rhaenerys - the old woman said.

-I know about it -purple-eyed replied immediately- But Aegon is not in the castle, I have to find him.

-What for? He is to become a king, and this will create a conflict that can not be avoided anymore - said the white-haired woman- This may be the cause of your death, do not be stupid.

-Free the dragons, free Aegarax and Sunfyre - she ordered firmly, ignoring her words. -Trust me -Rhaenyra's sister said, grabbing her hands.

The late king's cousin merely nodded before moving forward, straight to Dragonpit, when she walked in the opposite direction, begging the gods to be on her side. Capturing Ageon was the best and most risky solution. The prince was the last pawn needed to start a civil war, and Rhaenerys intended to take him away and hide him away from the queen.

Holding the paper in her hand, she looked at it uncertainly.

According to the written message, her brother hid in a temple in the city center, so she, having nothing to lose, trusted a stranger who, to her surprise, left many clues for her.

When she was not far away, one of the prostitutes showed her the direction and the side entrance, as if knowing what the woman had came for.

The white-haired princess entered the stone building. Taking off her cloak, she began her search in a seemingly deserted temple.

-Ageon - said the princess - It's me Rhaenerys. We have to get out of here as soon as possible, we don't have much time.

As if on command, the violet-eyed man left the stone altar, looking uncertainly at his sister, who, seeing him, ran up to him quickly.

-White worm said he would take me to the ship- he informed her -I will disappear from here and Rhaenyra will become queen.

The woman frowned in concern. There was nothing in her letter about the boat or the disappearance. Suddenly, a soft growl fell from her lips, and her eyes darkened with anger.

The white worm probably made the game, and the prince was the grand prize. The one who gave more won him and the rest of the seekers.

-I don't trust him - Rhaenerys said -Aegon, you will come with me. We will fly to Dragonstone. Do you understand? -she asked, taking his hand.

-But our sister, she will kill me- he said- Let's just run away together somewhere, far away- added the fair-haired man.

-Nothing will happen to you - assured the young woman - She never wanted to kill you, your mother inculcated it into your head, if your coronation happens, the war breaks out Aegon and many heads will fall from many necks.

The young man, still scared, nodded understanding as he let his siblings lead him forward. The princess thought she had time, but the sight of unfamiliar men heading towards the temple had led her out of her misconception .

The siblings hid behind one of the massive pillars. The woman pulled a dagger from under her coat, grasping it firmly in her hand, while the other held her brother's hand.

Stepping slowly, she guided her and the prince's movements next to her. The two twins looked around for Aegon, and when they had gone far enough, they took the opportunity by sneaking to the door.

-Quick - Targaryen whispered, looking from side to side.

-Princess- a male voice called her. Rhaenerys stopped. Hiding the violet-eyed man behind her, she was looking confidently at Ser Criston's dark irises, accompanied by Aemond -Prince, your mother looking for you -he added, shifting his gaze to the man behind her.

-He's not going anywhere - she threatened, gripping the blade tighter.

Suddenly, the twins came out from behind their backs.

The white-haired girl looked away from one place to another. After a moment she closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing.

Dragons can tell when their bonded riders need them.

Suddenly a loud roar spread around, and a shadow covered the square on which they were located.

Dragons are not foolish creatures.

Aegarax descended from the stone structure, landing next to Rhaenerys and Aegon, carefully watching the people in front of him with his eyes.

They can tell the difference between friend and foe.

Opening his mouth, he let out a loud scream again, and then a fire appeared in the back of his throat. The white-haired woman took the opportunity to drag the would-be king to her reptile, quickly climbing his back together with the young man.

-Sōvēs! (Fly) - the blonde said loudly, and the animal rose heavily, destroying parts of some buildings around them.

The black beast soared above the ground as it flew through the city.

The rider looked back, the King's Landing receded farther and farther away, to become only a blur. As two more roars spread through the air, she breathed a sigh of relief. Rhaenys wth her dragon and Sunfyre flew near them.

The women looked at each other and nodded their heads in silent understanding. The white-haired girl closed her eyes, feeling the adrenaline leaving her body.

Aegon grabbed her hand, squeezing it as tightly as they had been a few moments ago when they were on the ground, then he kissed her cheek, hiding his face in her neck.

-Thank you- he whispered, but she heard him anyway.

Rhaenerys joined their hands together in response, nestling against his torso. They were safe...for now.

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niicevibe · 2 years

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐤𝐞𝐧 + 𝐘/𝐍 𝐇𝐂𝐬

While writing for Ryūken, I got a little in the feels about him... He was a little difficult to write for though, for sure. Really felt like I drifted here, but... c'est la vie. Also!!!? He has like, no headcanons on this site. Which is understandable, but sheesh.

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @toofilthy (again, omg, it took this long... but at least it only took me three hours to work on today, haha! haha...)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of autopsying and minor character deaths.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I've left your position ambiguous again, just like I did for Uryū's headcanons, as well as your tenure at the hospital. Besides, you could've been a young patient when you first met Ryūken? He just gave off those big daddy Quincy vibes and you couldn't resist...

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

After the event that took place thanks to Juha Bach back in the nineties left him a single father while simultaneously claiming the lives of both his wife and the girl he once loved, Ryūken threw himself into his work and subconsciously swore off any semblance of romanticism.

Truly a first rate doctor with the best possible patient care in mind, perhaps it was thanks to this emotional suffering that allowed him to climb to the role of hospital director. But is it any consolation?

A trait that both of the Ishida men share is there lack of a need for romance, or perhaps in Uryū's particular case, should the prospect of a relationship come to pass him, his courting game is strong. And his prudish nature? Well, I'd like to believe he gets it from his father...

Looking back on that same history, Ryūken hasn't always been as cold as perceived by those around him. Having both a protector complex and a savior complex, and in wanting to marry someone for love and not out of obligation, he could easily prove to be quite the casanova should the effort not come out to be so... stick-up-the-butt-ish. It's a wonder how he took so much after his cold-hearted and goal-oriented mother, and how his father's kindness he inherited became the recessive trait.

It doesn't tend to show all too obviously. He isn't a doting father. How good of a husband he had been to Kanae is another story all together. They grew up with each other, with Kanae as his waiting hand. She was fond of him, and he was grateful for her. So, more likely than not, he wasn't doting, but he had enough care in his heart for the woman.

It's not something Ryūken cares to talk about, not even with himself, let alone with his son. It dwells in the darkest corner of his mind, how he couldn't figure out the cause of Kanae's coma. How he couldn't avenge her when she finally passed away.

But it is something he concerns himself with whenever you're around.

Emotions are burdening. But then again, if he hadn't been fueled by them the day he discovered that silver blood clot during Kanae's autopsy, he would've never been able to help his son and get that revenge he desired.

You knew him not to be a vengeful man. Not under normal circumstances. In his own silent and subtle way, the man loved his patients, his career, and dare you even speculate, his own son, despite the weird dynamic you discovered them to have. You note how naturally cautious and meticulous and focused Ryūken is with everything he does in his life. It was fascinating to you, in an awful, sad way.

All because the hospital gossip was too strong to ignore, you found yourself staring. And Ryūken Ishida isn't an easily swayed man, but... he's grown unnerved that the story of his wife's death was the reason for your newfound attention on him. He's also not the type to ignore that attention, you realize, when he's suddenly inviting you to eat with him in his office.

How could you say no to the director? And even more so, to a man you've found yourself thinking about for the majority of your day? Even when you return to the four walls of your home, Ryūken Ishida lives in your mind. You'd been content just seeing him around the four walls of the hospital, and now, he wants to sit down with you? Does he... think you've done something wrong?

As far back as you can remember, you don't recall anything you've done in your job to be something that's killed a patient... and when you inquire about this through the small sips from your juice box, he's calm in assuring you that that's not the case. But he wants to know why he's on the receiving end of your pitying glances.

It's the fact that he only thinks they are pitying glances that has you so shocked.

Though you have heard the rumours through the hospital that his son was emotionally obtuse before his partner set him straight, you can't help but express to the man how wrong he is. Which, apparently, is a rarity in itself.

You admit that, sure, you feel sadness for the man who had to autopsy his own wife to recuperate from his grief, for the man who couldn't save her life no matter how hard he tried. You tell him how much you wished the world to be more forgiving and less of the taking that it keeps seeming to do. Now, it's been so many years since you first watched him wandering the halls of his hospital, blue eyes as empty as the hands who failed to find any answers.

"It's not pity," you promise him. "Just compassion."

If he's surprised at your truth, he doesn't immediately show it. Understandably confused considering how little you've managed to interact with the man, but... he finds himself touched at the result of your candor.

There are often days where Ryūken forgoes eating normal meals, despite any stringent schedule keeping he makes attempts at. Almost always busy between any meetings or scheduled surgical procedures, he finds himself visited by you much more frequently, having brought homemade bento for the both of you, and on a much more daily basis. He doesn't speak his thanks, but you can tell in the subtle shift of softness his eyes take on when he looks at you versus anyone else in his life.

Your relationship, whether platonic or romantic, would start off incessantly slow, something you had both been content with due to the nature of your official meeting. For you to be more forward or more expectant in relationships is not something Ryūken minds. If not pressured nor at an impasse, he is normally a very calm individual, especially if you had been happy to show some patience of your own through things.

Ryūken seems like the kind of man to swear off any further attempts at relationships or courting, himself, and maybe not due to trauma, but to the frustration of his own fallibility regarding Kanae and Masaki. Not that there would be any chance of a similar thing ever happening to you like it did them, but without needing to outwardly admit it, Ryūken wouldn't be able to make it through an experience like that again.

He would not be a fan of obvious public displays of affection. Hand holding may be his limit (professionally). Other times, loosely linking arms while on a walk is something he would dare to manage. Subconsciously, his thoughts drift to what Uryū might think about him having a new partner, and should he see his father with you, how he might react. Would he feel betrayed? Some days, Ryūken thought he might be doing the same to Kanae's memory. But you've been respectful, patient throughout the whole ordeal.

Despite how much time had passed between then and the present, he would truly thrive in that understanding environment.

In private, Ryūken might dare to share the odd chaste kiss with you. They'd serve to fuel him on those longer days he'd be unable to tear himself away from his office.

Ryūken would be a casual romantic. Being the busy, goal-oriented man he is, he'll have little time to be able to spend planning elaborate dates or trips, unless he truly got lucky. And perhaps your schedules might not overlap within a day-- in his stead, Ryūken might order something to be delivered to your doorstep. If he's unable to make it home, perhaps phone calls might not suffice anymore. The odd video chat might set him at ease.

Ryūken is not an open book, so unless he comes out and admits exactly what he's thinking behind his seemingly cold eyes, you might not ever know what's on his mind. Don't be afraid to prod him for answers every now and again; with his focus on everything else, he might not even think to explain himself.

#ehhh i did my best 👉🏻👈🏻#he's such a minor character comparatively; i hope i did him justice for you?#ryuken ishida #ishida ryuken #ryuken x reader #ryuken ishida x reader #ryuken ishida x y/n #ryuken ishida headcanons #ryuken ishida hcs #ryuken ishida x you #ryuken x you #bleach headcanons #bleach #bleach anime #🧺: bleach

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yr-obedt-cicero · 1 year

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Was it true that Hamilton's mother was a whore?

If yes, how did he feel about it? Did his political enemies use it against him?

If not, who started the rumor?

Thank you and have a nice day!

The only informational and reliable source material I can find in regards to Rachel are; Ron Chernow's biography, and Micheal E. Newton's blog. If by whore, you mean she didn't let herself get restrained by bitch ass men; then yeah. The truthful rumors originated from Rachel's first husband, Johann Lavien.

Lavien peddled household goods and was a slave holder. He owned at least sixteen slaves, including five to seven children. He was possibly a Jewish man, but if he was; he hid it greatly. The Carribean region was treated as a sideline international trade center, especially for the British and Americans. Lavien attempted to utilize the system to make himself wealthy, and spent all his fortune on a plantation and pompous attire.

According to Hamilton; despite Rachel's disinterest in Lavien, her mother, Mary Uppington Faucette, encouraged Lavien to marry her. Because she was captivated by his expensive clothes and rich appeal, and had to push Rachel into reluctantly agreeing to what became a hated marriage. And in 1745, they married — Rachel was sixteen at the time. The couple moved to a plantation called Contentment. The coming year, in 1746; they had their son, Peter Lavien. Although it appears the marriage quickly became an unhappy one. Hamilton claims that Lavien only married Rachel for the wealth that she inherited from her late father;

“A Dane a fortune-hunter of the name of Lavine came to Nevis bedizzened with gold, and paid his addresses to my mother then a handsome young woman having a snug fortune.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton to William Jackson, [August 26, 1800])

Likely due to the disheartening conditions of their marriage, Rachael soughted out a romantic relationship with a man named Johan Jacob Cronenberg. According to Newton's records findings;

“Johan Michael Lawin [...] had been obliged to experience that his wedded wife, Rachel, who for a long time had absented herself from him, was residing with a bachelor Johan Cronenberg.”

“Johan Michael Lawin, whose wedded wife the aforesaid Cronenberg accuses of having resided with him for a long time in fornication.”

(source — Discovering Hamilton)

Apparently Lavien heard somehow of Rachel's residing with Cronenberg, and “found” her in Cronenberg's “lodging, well hidden behind locked doors, wherefrom her husband fetched her and drove her home.” Due to this being an act of infidelity since Rachel and Lavien were not divorced; Cronenberg was “not only…seriously warned to keep away from this woman of loose morals but also punished with some days’ incarceration.” Despite this, Rachel soon returned to live with Cronenberg. And Cronenberg “again had sexual relations with this woman and without feeling shame publicly kept her with him in his house and lived there with her.”

October 8, 1749, John Lavien; “requested the court’s assistance to repair with him to Cronenberg’s plantation house to seize and arrest Cronenberg and Rachel for further legal prosecution.” Which did eventually lead to the arrest of Rachel and Cronenberg;

“‘This the agent of the court complied with, and at night at about 12 o’clock had come to said plantation and […] the 2 accused persons were found in the bedroom taking their usual night’s rest.’

‘The agents of the court […] seized them both in their bedroom, undressed and with more debauched circumstances that sufficiently demonstrated their shameless intercourse and scandalous life’ and ‘declared them both to be under arrest and had them brought…to Fort Christiansvaern’ to be imprisoned.”

(source — Discovering Hamilton)

By the 10th, or 20th, the court case of Cronenberg and Rachel was brought before the municipal court. And both Rachael and Cronenberg were charged and found guilty, they were sentenced to be imprisoned at Fort Christiansvaern.

US National Park Service marker for the Christiansted National Historic Site

“Rachel spent several months in a dark, cramped cell that measured ten by thirteen feet, and she must have gone through infernal torments of fear and loneliness. Through a small, deeply inset window, she could stare across sharpened spikes that encircled the outer wall and gaze at the blue-green water that sparkled in the fierce tropical sunlight. She could also eavesdrop on the busy wharf, stacked with hogsheads of sugar [...] All the while, she had to choke down a nauseating diet of salted herring, codfish, and boiled yellow cornmeal mush.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow)

Nearly eight months after having his wife and her paramour imprisoned; Lavien requested to the municipal court to free Rachel, and expressed his belief that she had been sufficiently punished. On the 4th of May, 1750, the court agreed and decided that Rachel, “in consideration of her long incarceration,” was to be released so that she “might again betake herself to her husband and with him lead a better life.”

But instead of submitting to the disgusting patriarchal system, and her cruel husband; Rachel left in 1750, after five years of unhappy marriage. She moved to St. Kitts early of that year, where she met James Hamilton (There are a few theories they had met previously, but there are no official records to support such). They had both been struggling with the taints involving their names, and had likely been drawn together. Hamilton claims his parents married, but in any legal sense they had not;

“My mother afterwards went to St. Kitts, became acquainted with my father and a marriage between them ensued, followed by many years cohabitation and several children.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton to William Jackson, [August 26, 1800])

In 1753, they had James Hamilton Jr., and on January 11, 1757 (Or 1755), they had Alexander Hamilton. Some sources claim (Including Hamilton himself) they had more children, but if they did; they are unknown, and there are no surviving records to prove such. Rachel inherited a property in the capital Charlestown, also three enslaved servants from her mother — who were; Rebecca, Flora, and Esther, one of them had a son named Ajax, and he was assigned to care for James Jr and Hamilton.

Fast forward to 1759 - nine years after Rachel fled - Lavien has found himself in a lot of debt. He had to sell most of his plantation, and rent out his few slaves to make enough. A dutiful woman was living with, and cleaning for Lavien. It is likely that he wished to marry her, which lead to him wishing to obtain a divorce summons on February 26, 1759.

Lavien claimed Rachel had;

“absented herself from [Lavien] for nine years and gone elsewhere, where she has begotten several illegitimate children, so that such action is believed to be more sufficient for him to obtain a divorce from her.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow)

Lavien also said he “had taken care of Rachel's legitimate child [Peter Lavien] from what little he has been able to earn,” while she had, “completely forgotten her duty and let husband and child alone and instead given herself up to whoring with everyone, which things the plantiff are so well known that her own family and friends must hate her for it.”

Even after this merciless allegation, Lavien demanded that Rachel be denied all legal rights to his property. He warned that if he died before her, Rachel, “as a widow would possibly seek to take possession of the estate and there- fore not only acquire what she ought not to have but also take this away from his child and give it to her whore-children.”

Mistakenly, Rachel didn't even try to refute the allegations, or show up to court; which meant on the 25th of June, Lavien recieved a divorce that permitted him to remarry — but on the other hand, Rachel couldn't. To make matters worse, in April 1765; James Sr. got a business assignment located in Christiansted. And brought his family with him to St. Croix, although Lavien was far from there he was still on the island. Even more unfortunately, Rachel was no longer allowed the liberty of calling herself “Mrs. Hamilton”, due to how close the Fort - that she was once imprisoned at - was in the area, Rachel would have had to renter her infamous identity as a notorious woman of misdeeds. As records from this time only title her as correct, or mispronunciated, forms of “Faucette” and “Lavien”.

James would then also adruptly leave and abandon his family, after a victory with the Moir case. His motives or intentions are unknown. Hamilton generously claims his father could no longer support his family, and others claim Rachel's smeared name was likely rubbing off on his own.

Anyway, that's the tale of Rachel's many marriages and love lives; I think it unfair judgement to call her such derogatory names when considering everything she was dealing with, and additionally from such a young age. It is clear she committed infidelity while married, and they are not only rumors — but I don't think it's a fair assessment to fault her for such, when she was trapped in an unhappy marriage.

As for people using it against Hamilton; they did. As mentioned previously, Lavien called James Jr and Hamilton “whore-children”, and according to Chernow; journalist nemeses called Hamilton “the son of a camp girl”.

Hope this helped!

#amrev #american history #rachel faucette buck #rachel faucette hamilton #rachel faucette #johann lavien #johan jacob cronenberg #alexander hamilton #historical alexander hamilton #james hamilton #history #hamilton family #queries #sincerely anonymous #Cicero's history lessons

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moonflower91 · 2 years

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do you think saerah would ever intentionally make aemond jealous to rile him up or would it purely be accidental since i know she said she wouldn’t be with another man and didn’t like aemond being with someone else. either way since aemond is to wed the baratheon girl how would he react if one of the sons of house tyrell (without their permission) comes to ask for saerah’s hand in marriage thinking this would be the best time to since the upcoming war requires alliances

I feel that Saerah would kinda do it intentionally but not necessarily to rile up Aemond but to throw courtiers off. Like she has never made it a secret that she desired Aemond so I think to navigate court life, she would definitely flirt a little bit to keep people guessing what her intentions are, a sort of armour. But she never outright would betray Aemond’s trust. Aemond, while he knows it’s a strategic maneuver, honestly fucking seethes when another man’s eyes lingers on her body for too long.

However, Aemond’s betrothal to the Baratheon girl completely wrecked Saerah, for want of a better term.

Logically, she knows Aemond doesn’t want it either. Knows it’s for their survival in the upcoming war, but feelings don’t follow logic. She feels betrayed. Hurt. Like a scorned woman. She wants to claw the other woman’s eyes out but also feed Aemond to Vexxa.

But she also wants to run away—not with Aemond, because she’s still too hurt (he didn’t even tell her he was offering himself up for marriage) but away from Aemond. Back to Highgarden, across the sea to Pentos. Just away.

But she can’t. She’s stuck in Kings Landing, forced to tolerate her Aemond’s intended as her father sent her from Storms End to ensure the marriage was honoured once the war was done.

And as Aemond predicted, the Tyrell’s arrived at Kings Landing, bringing thousands of men and thousands more provisions with them. There was no outward demand for repayment, but everyone knew: The Tyrells came to make a marriage.

“I am not a milking cow to be sold at your pleasure!” Saerah howled in the Small Council chamber.

“You are not a woman free of duty and obligation, either, Princess.” Lord Lannister replied from his seat.

“It is a fine match.” The Lord Hand, her grandfather, said. “You can do far worse, girl. You’ll be lady of the Reach, wife of one of the richest lords in the land.”

“Very pretty things for a very pretty price of me in his bed. Would any of you like to offer yourself up instead?” She bit out, glancing around the table at the men, avoiding casting her mother a look out of respect. “I mean if the rewards are so sweet, do not any of you wish to take my place.”

“Saerah.” Her mother admonished.

The princess sighed, casting her eyes downward. Already this felt like a lost battle. Aemond was to be wed to the Baratheon girl and she would make her home here beside him. And Saerah would be shipped away again to Highgarden, this time with a husband on her arm.

Still, she tried again. “I…only mean to say, there are others to consider. The Eyrie, the North, and perhaps even one from Dorne. Why not keep the options open until we’ve a better handle on this war.” She made careful sure to exclude western options, still feeling greedy emerald eyes on her form.

Otto shifted in his chair, a sharp sigh hissing from his nose. “I know this is not the match you desire, granddaughter. And neither would the Eyrie, North or Dornish houses would be your preference.” Her lilac eyes flickered up to his, cheeks heating at the fact that was spat like an insult. “Nevertheless, the Tyrell’s have been good friends of the Crown and it does us no good to drive them into our enemies’ beds.”

“And who would Viktor Tyrell marry? Rhaenyra’s only daughter is dead, Baela and Rhaena promised to Jace and—“ damn it all. It had been short weeks since Lucerys’ death, and oftentimes Saerah found herself forgetting.

“Yes, now she understands it.” Lord Lannister murmured into his wine cup. Saerah wishes for Aemond’s strength then, so she might show his pompous face into that cup, breaking glass over his skin. It did not escape her notice that Aemond was absent from the room, and Saerah wondered if the Council acted with stealth, silently inviting her to treat with them and bring this offer to her without Aemond’s interference.

Even still. Saerah’s cold, embittered heart wondered if he would even care. He certainly sold himself into marriage easily enough.

“Rhaena is a far lesser prize than you are, sweet girl.” Her mother murmured, her wide eyes looking imploringly up at her youngest daughter. “Pride is a fragile thing. Deny the Tyrell’s what they desire and every man outside those gates holding a golden rose banner…they will disappear and show up on Dragonstone.”

“Mother, I…”

Alicent sighed. “Just…have an open heart, my dear. You got on well enough at Highgarden.”

Viktor Tyrell gifted her with a beautiful diamond necklace upon their meeting again. It was a private enough meeting—he had come to her chambers, his own servant in tow who carried a gorgeous velvet box. She promised to wear it to the feast that night, held in welcome for their new friends from the Reach.

It was heavy and cold as a chain around her neck. And Aemond took notice at once.

“‘Tis a pretty necklace, sister.” He murmured to her softly, leaning closer to her side. They sat at the high dais, their new king sat at the centre, Helaena sat to his left, and the Hand at his right. Viktor sat beside Otto, and thankfully, she Aemond and his Baratheon girl sat beside Helaena.

The black haired girl in question had gotten up to dance and it was only then that Aemond dared speak to her. Another slight to her poor heart.

“A gift. From Lord Tyrell.” She replied, taking a bite of pigeon.

“Hm. Generous of him.” He hummed, eye flickering back to the other man in question. “Not really the gift of friendship, though, is it?” Saerah did not reply. “More that of what a man might offer his wife.” Again Saerah did not react. “Or his whore.”

Her fist met the table and although the music did not cease, she could feel multiple eyes on her. “Gift one to your Baratheon girl, brother.” Aemond’s lilac eye bore into hers, burning. She hated that she could not hate him. This hurt may not feel so much like betrayal, then. “It is a very pretty betrothal gift, after all.”

“He put you in chains, Saerah.” He growled lowly in High Valyrian. “Say the word, and he’ll have disappeared before dawn.”

“He’s a good man, Aemond.” She murmured back, taking up a little carrot with her fingers.

“Not for you he’s not.”

Aemond did not make life easy for Viktor at court. Saerah was never sure what Aemond did, but over the next month so noticed Viktor lost a bit of weight and had dark circles under his eyes.

#game of thrones #asoiaf #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x sister!oc #jealousy #arranged marriage #angst

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abri-chan · 1 year

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Idk if im the only one but marco and connies relationship feels forced to me. Like girl has ptsd from seeying him and told him not to come over again. Luca sends him for tobaco and he doesnt have a choice(he set him up fr) but marco doesnt know how to leave her alone ether. Idk how its not seen as ooc,hes always ridden with guilt idk he even asked to marry her(due to obligation?) He neglects their relationship due to work and doesnt make time for her. Its been mentioned how hes been in "lukewarm water"for some time,when conny gets kidnaped he doesnt imidiatly jump into action(ur a ex destroyer u were trained to act fast)even when he knows where she is. Theres been a theory that "marco" is a personality created by spas to cope with his guilt,spas is who marco really is

So there's layers to this.

I think when you first go into Gangsta, the way Kohske writes the two it is believable to me, that they're a couple/married. Although over time I started to hate Marco specifically bc of his lukewarm approach: he feels guilty towards both his ex-comrades and his wife, so he can't take a step in either direction and is stuck in place. I understand the plot reason behind this, Marco is a powerful character who would make winning for the "good guys" too easy so Kohske has to get rid of him emotionally, so he's held down by the weight of his sins, literally. Still, I can't bring myself to forgive a guy who can't save his own wife, you have to choose your wife always! Even Worick did more for Connie than Marco did when it comes to handling Striker--Worick wiped the floor with Striker's ego bc he realized Connie was dead, and as a favor to Connie; it's not like Worick gained much by pissing Striker off.

By choosing no side, Marco also fucked over Loretta, bc he was her strongest bodyguard, thus also letting down her father, who was the first man to show Marco any kindness. It all was a domino effect.

I do fear Connie knew how weak Marco was, so she had to make the decision for him--how she almost killed Striker, and how she seemed to know that they both would die (Worick's memories) bc Marco had already killed and she chose to be with the killer of her parents: blood will seek blood kind of attitude. I was hoping the spinoff would have given me answers of how Connie fell for him, but we didn't see it. (That is to say, their love is believable once introduced, but how she could fall for Marco in the first place is "question mark".)

As for Spas being the real Marco, personalities are like tree circles: he grew Marco around the Spas core, so they're both Marco and both Spas in a way. It's a bit like ID and EGO, in that Marco is the ego (guilt, shame, etc) keeping the animal Spas at bay. You can argue that bc these kids were experimented on, they never learned restraint, that which society pushes onto you as you grow up utilizing education and even guilt at times. Marco had to learn all that once Loretta's father took him in. So Marco is in many ways adult Spas, but that doesn't mean Spas fully disappeared. Marco could see him glimpse, but he was more concerned with keeping Spas at bay, that he lost the chance to use Spas to save Connie.

---

Btw I don't think Marco asked Connie to marry him; I feel Connie was the lead in the relationship and she probably figuratively or literally even, grabbed him and dragged him to court or church, and I don't think Marco realized he was even married because she acted so fast. Now I'm realizing Marco really let others make decisions for him once reintegrated back into society, he got swept with the flow. Loretta's father takes him in, he goes along; Connie decides to talk to him, he listens to her, and so on. Perhaps he deleted the EGO to external people and never developed one of his own.

I feel bad for Granny bc she lost her son and daughter in law, and then Connie too, and worse of all she warned everyone that would happen, and it did happen, and there's no pleasure to be taken in being right because she only wanted her granddaughter back.

#anime manga rambles #gangsta.#gangsta

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demonslayedher · 3 years

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What are your general thoughts on KyoMitsu as a romantic ship? Also good luck on your studies 🤎

（Thank you! I need all the luck I can get. T^T） KyoMitsu would be really, really stinking cute.

Since it didn’t blossom in canon, I’m not one to go fishing for it hiding in there, but had some circumstances been slightly different perhaps it could had been feasible. Keep reading below for light analysis of their canon relationship and playing with fluffy ideas for how it could had been different.

I think the fact that they started as a teacher and student pair prevented them from seeing eachother for romantic potential. Japan went through a Confucian revival in the Edo period which places a heavy emphasis on power balances and obligations and rules in different kinds of relationships, and that would still cast a strong shadow on warrior mindsets down in Taisho, which would thereby make a teacher-student relationship and its imbalances of power much more like a parent-child relationship than anything else (that, and my fandom brain is too influenced by Chinese wuxia like “The Return of Condor Hero” to see teacher/student relationships in martial arts as anything but scandalous, *gasp*).

These two don’t seem interested in scandal, they seem likely to accept the teacher-student relationship at face value. Even as Kyojuro recognizes Mitsuri as a peer once she graduates the Final Selection, and again once they both become Pillars together, he still finds her an endearing kouhai (underclassman) as opposed to simply being a naturally cute girl, and she finds him a doting and cool oniisama as opposed to a prince to sweep her off her feet. Not that anime doesn’t have a history of oniisama-complexes and sempai and, uh, teachers courting much younger heroines, but at least for where these two put their priorities in canon, they don’t seem interested in pushing counter-cultural relationships.

That’s only what we’re shown at the surface level, anyway. Again, slightly different circumstances, or perhaps slightly deeper reading, and maybe we could find some potential for romance even in their teacher-student relationship, and perhaps even because they got to know each other in this context without the pressure of "get married because you are a worthless girl in the Taisho era if you can’t” or “get married because you need to carry on the Rengoku family line.”

That said, it’s interesting that we never see Kyojuro consider his responsibilities to carry the Rengoku line forward. Even though he’s the oldest son and that should naturally fall to him, he seems relieved that the Rengoku family already has a second-in-line male heir, so romance seems far from his mind (again, for what we’re shown in canon; it leaves very wide room for interpretation due to the very absence of it). Had he been an only child, or had Senjuro been born a girl, he might had felt some Taisho era pressure (as well as ongoing Japanese family structure pressure) to take a wife. Instead, the pressure Kyojuro feels is to pass on Flame Breathing and raise someone to be a fitting Flame Pillar. By all rights that should fall to Senjuro too, but Kyojuro doesn’t feel he can leave that to him.

Mitsuri, perhaps, had initially hoped for Kyojuro’s interest. How could she not, as he was probably the strongest man she had ever met, and who was not bothered at all by her strength? Plus, he’s so kind, what girl wouldn’t fall for him? But, as I’ve analyzed her here, Mitsuri’s goals for entering the Corp were two-fold: finding a husband stronger than her was the primary stated goal, but ultimately she wanted a place to belong and be herself. Kyojuro was instrumental in fulfilling that second goal, and she’ll always treasure him for it. But the place he made for her was as a warrior, not a bride, so that probably framed her thinking of him very early on. So again, I keep coming back to them just not seeing each other in a romantic context in canon, because they have feelings for each other that relate more strongly to their place in the Demon Slayer Corp, not in wanting to be intimate soul mates.

Buuuuuuut, maybe, MAYBE if the context were a b-i-i-i-it different, like if Kyojuro did show more interest in not only raising Tsuguko, but raising children, or just generally having the comforts of a romantic partner. And maybe, maaaaaybe if Mitsuri found a different means of entering the Corp, training from someone who could purely feel like a teacher instead of someone to be a high-key soul mate, maaaaaybe that would open the perfect encounter for them to start off on a romantic note. And Kyojuro is indeed *so* high-key, if he set his sights on a girl, there would probably be no mistaking his affections. Go back through canon and replace every time he says “Tsuguko” with “girlfriend.” Go ahead, do it, I’ll wait here.

Meeting on a mission, perhaps. Kyojuro has his hands full trying to keep everyone safe and then out bursts an angel to help, who perhaps literally sweeps him off his feet. Oh my goodness. My gosh, that would be cute. And he asks her out to eat. She’s flighty and embarrassed because THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED, OH MY GOSH, IS IT HAPPENING, but she’s scared she’s going to scare him off with her appetite but HE KEEPS PACE WITH HER OH MY GOSH IT’S A MATCH. And they do nothing but laugh and smile and brighten each other’s faces simply by being in each other’s company and wow, they’ve never felt so happy??? (Meanwhile, Iguro Obanai is crying in a dark corner of the restaurant, where he had no intention of eating anyway.)

So let’s say that meeting each other in a romantic context leads them to become soul mates who seek each other’s light, while also providing endless encouragement. And they quickly agree that they’d make a good marriage match, in a proper Taisho cultural context, and also as Demon Slayer Corp members with a responsibility to raise the next generation of swordsmen, be it as Tsuguko or as offspring. Having such a strong mother bodes well for the next generation of the Rengoku clan and Mitsuri is thrilled that her strength can actually be an asset in a marriage, but also that she has such a kind husband in the first place (father-in-law maybe needs some time to come around, he grumbles that they’re both bound to die anyway… thanks, dad), and she and Senjuro go nuts in the Rengoku estate’s kitchen. The Rengoku family finances would be in trouble if they weren’t Pillars; because eventually when they have tons of children, all of those children have voracious appetites too. And bizarre hair colors, those children are the weirdest of the weird but their parents teach them to love and accept themselves so they are all super loud and confident and bizarrely strong and if Muzan isn’t beaten in this generation he’ll have no prayer when those Rengoku children come of age. They might have trouble picking up Flame Breathing, though. Whoops. (Meanwhile, Iguro Obanai is writing sad poetry and his facial wrappings mean he doesn’t have to try to fake a smile. He’s happy for them, really, there's no else he would entrust her happiness to, and a dirty person like him never deserved happiness, hello darkness my old friend, oh dear, oh Oyakata-sama, please save him.)

#rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujurou #kanroji mitsuri #kyomitsu #kyojuro x mitsuri #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny fandom theories and meta #sorta #I'm not much of a shipper she says

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satanourunholylord · 3 years

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Love and Love Making Among the Vikings

Below is an infodump post which focuses on these topics:

Courtship: The Viking Way

Good Personal Hygiene

Sex Before Marriage

Homosexuality being Acceptable (with limits)

Some Viking Marriage Customs That Survive Today

Viking Sexual Euphemisms

Acceptance of Adultery in the Viking Age

Viking Women Divorcing Their Husbands

Vikings in popular culture are often viewed as the brutes of the Dark Ages, robbing, raping and pillaging people and goods. However, an analysis of their personal lives shows a much different side. Family life was important to Norse men, and every proper, upstanding Viking aimed to marry and have children. And although their parents arranged their marriages, Norsemen liked to court their ladies- and made a special effort to impress them with their appearance.

As for Norse women, although they had to put up with their husband’s affairs with live-in mistresses, slaves and even other men, they had the right to divorce their partners for violence, neglect, and various sexually related issues. In fact, Norse customs of love, marriage, and sex set a high standard in their time- and some even survive to this day.

Courtship: The Viking Way

Courtship wasn’t strictly necessary in Norse culture as marriage was more about alliances than love. The prospective bride and groom’s families would command the negotiations, to create a match that would bind the two clans as allies – and sometimes end feuds. Many brides were promised as "peace pledges" to smooth troubled waters between rival families. Although the couple in question could voice an opinion, it was fair to say they had little choice but to go ahead with the match.

That didn’t mean there was no romance -but Norse men had to handle it carefully. If a potential groom was too slow in making advances to his prospective bride, the lady’s relatives could take this as a slight and seek blood vengeance. Eighteen courtships in the sagas ended in this messy fashion. On the other hand, it also didn’t pay to move too fast or stretch out the courtship too long. If the couple liked each other too much to wait for the wedding night, matters could become complicated by an unwanted pregnancy.

So attempts to cultivate what the Norse called ˜inn matki munr’ (‘the mighty passion’) were intricate and involved specific rituals. Meeting and talking was one way to forge a relationship. But some odd practices were also employed. For instance, if a girl wanted to show her man she liked him, she made him a shirt. As for Viking men, they would go out and handpick their lady a bunch of purple flowers- and then slap her around the face with it!

Love poetry, although a favorite of the Norse gods, was viewed with suspicion. In fact, Icelandic law forbade skalds to compose Mannsong, (‘maiden songs’) for women who were not married to them under the threat of outlawry or death. This suspicion came about because the Norse believed that the poems could act as spells to seduce and bind women. Worse still, such praises could suggest that the skald or his patron knew the lady more intimately than he should.

Even if they were not in love before the wedding, the couple would try and cultivate it afterward. Husbands would seat their wives next to them if they wanted to show affection. Couples could also express their closeness by sharing the same drinking horn. If a husband were feeling very affectionate, he would ˜put her on his lap’ where he and his wife could indulge in “kyssir hana’ – a kiss and a cuddle. Or he would put his head on her lap, and she would stroke his hair.

Good personal hygiene was a must

Central to making a good impression on a potential or actual partner was good personal hygiene and pride in one’s appearance. This practice applied to both men and women. Norse graves are packed with grooming essentials for the afterlife- regardless of whether they belonged to a man or a woman. Combs, toothpicks, tweezers and ear spoons were all familiar, demonstrating the Norse liked to be neat and tidy-and clean. The Arab, Ibn Fadlan may have felt horror at the Viking practice of sharing a communal wash bowl, but at least his Norse acquaintances washed their face and combed their hair daily.

In fact, the Norse were probably the cleanest people in the Dark Ages. According to the Saxon cleric, John of Wallingford, they bathed weekly, on a Saturday. Wallingford complained that this, and their habit of changing their clothes regularly, was to “ undermine the virtue of married women and even seduce the daughters of nobles to be their mistresses.” However, the Norse were not content merely to be neat and tidy. Ibn Fadlan also noted the Rus- Viking traders who occupied what is now modern Russia-favored bleaching their beards to a saffron yellow, using a strong lye soap.

This method was probably also used on the hair of men and women. Norse women would have been particularly keen on achieving the long, fair, shiny hair that was the feminine ideal, although the white skin that men also coveted was probably only managed by the wealthy. Men also favored long hair, as only slaves wore their hair close cropped. However, this did not mean they were unkept. Figurines show Viking men wearing their hair trimmed and their beards well groomed- either styled to a point or shaped as a goatee.

Finally, there was the question of clothing. When it came to making an impact, the Norse liked to dress to impress. As well as being clean, garments were brightly colored and adorned with the most costly array of jewelry you could afford. Cloak pins and arm rings all showed off status, impressing the object of your desire not only with your appearance but your wealth and prospects in life.

Sex before marriage was acceptable

It wasn’t always possible to marry the one you loved - or lusted after. The sagas make constant reference to “the illicit love visit.” In such cases, a young couple, forbidden from marrying would meet in secret. The sagas never mention sex occurring. However, it is highly unlikely the young man would risk a secret tryst simply to ˜talk’ to the object of his affections. The lovers, however, were said to ˜enjoy’ each other. A document detailing a wife’s dissatisfaction with her impotent husband because she couldn’t ˜enjoy‘ him suggests this is a term linked to sexual fulfilment.

Indeed, although female virginity was the ideal, it was just about acceptable for a woman to have had sexual relationships before her marriage-with certain provisos. First, she needed to have been discrete and not too prolific in her pre martial encounters. However, most importantly, she should not have had any children out of wedlock. This restriction was not for moral reasons. Illegitimate sons could become their father’s heirs- if he recognized them. Rather, society censured Illegitimacy because of the burden it placed on the maternal family, not because it was deemed wrong or shameful.

Illegitimate children were the responsibility of the mother’s family- and so a burden to it. It was they who ultimately supported the child. Even if the father acknowledged his child, he and his family were only obliged to provide two-thirds of its support. Worse yet, the mother probably lost all hope of marriage, as few men would want to take on the responsibility and expense of another man’s child. Thus her family would lose out further as she would gain no bride price and no family alliance. Thus chastity was often the safest bet.

For men, sex outside marriage posed no such strictures. They were free to indulge themselves however they pleased-as long as they submitted to marriage in the end. For to remain unmarried in Norse society was unacceptable. A man accused of shunning wedlock was said to be ˜fleeing from the vagina.’ Women who did the same were “fleeing from the penis.’ Such people risked becoming social outcasts because they were not fulfilling their ultimate role: the procreation of children for the survival of their families and society.

Homosexuality was acceptable- with limits

Pre Christian Norse views on homosexuality weren’t simple. On the face of it, Norse society accepted sexual relationships between men. However, there were restrictions. Firstly, such relationships could not interfere with any future or current marriage. So the man still had to marry- whatever his views on the opposite sex- and his wife and her family had to be prepared to ignore her husband’s male lover or lovers. It was most important that the man did not neglect his conjugal duties. He still needed to have sex with his wife.

More important was that no free Norse man was the passive partner in a homosexual relationship. Vikings would rape males and females when on raiding trips to shame, degrade and weaken them. To be penetrated was to be submissive. It was acceptable to gain pleasure from penetrating someone- but not from being penetrated yourself. One of the worst insults an enemy could hurl at a Norse man was “sordinn” (penetrated). Any man branded as such would fight to the death defend his honor. These conflicts led to Scandinavian law codes making such types of insult illegal because of the bloodshed, with the slanderer often outlawed- if the injured party didn’t kill him first!

However, if such abuse was believed or proven, it had grave consequences for the man in question. Although Norse myths tell of gods such as Loki and even Odin taking on a submissive role in sex, Norse mortal society did not tolerate passivity in men. The man in question would become a social outcast, branded "ergi” (unmanly). Such men were believed to lack the ability to be vital and virile members of society. They were deemed liable to be ineffectual as fathers and fighters- and as such of no use. Dominant homosexuals were quite another matter.

There is no mention of lesbianism in the tales. Nor are there any references in other Old Norse texts to female homosexual relationships, so we cannot gauge pre-Christian attitudes to female homosexuality. However, Icelandic Christian law suggests lesbianism did occur in Norse society. In the 12th century, Bishop Porlakr Porhallson decreed “if women satisfy each other they shall be ordered the same penance as men who perform the most hideous adultery between them or with a quadruped.”

The Eddas and some of the sagas also specifically mention Freja having sex with other women. In fact at a banquet Loki accused her of having slept all the other Aesir at one time or another, a claim which Freja never denied.

Some Viking Marriage customs survive today

The Norse held their weddings on a Friday, the day of Frigg, the goddess of marriage and fertility. The time of the year was also crucial. Late summer or autumn were the preferred times. This period of the year was harvest time, a time of abundance and plenty. A good supply of meat, fruit, and grain was essential to ensure an amply provisioned wedding feast.

One beverage was of particular importance. The ˜bridal ale’ was first consumed in a loving cup by the bride and groom at the marriage feast. The couple would use the mead-like brew to seal their union with a toast to Odin and Freya. The bridal ale was brewed with a good deal of honey, to ensure the fertility of the newlyweds. Their families gifted the couple with enough of this sweet beer to last them a month- a custom that gives us the modern term ˜honeymoon.’

Before the wedding, both bride and groom took a ritual steam bath. Although they did not wear special clothes for the wedding, both wore specific tokens on their special day. For the bride, this was a floral wreath upon her head. For the groom, it was a sword, purposely robbed from one of his family’s burial mounds (or an old family sword buried in a fake mound that he ritually disinterred.) This sword was presented to the bride at the exchange of vows, as a way of making her a custodian of his family line.

As is common today, the bride and groom exchanged rings- both finger rings and arm rings as they spoke their vows. Once the ceremony was complete, the “brud hlaup” occurred. This was a race run by both wedding parties to the feasting hall. Whoever arrived last served the ale. But before the bride could enter, she had to be escorted over the threshold by the groom. The Norse, like many pagan peoples, believed thresholds were dangerous places for in transition to a new stage in their life.

The groom would then thrust a new sword, a gift from his bride, into the central pillar of the house. The depth of the resulting cut was used to determine the success of their union. Then, after the feast, eight witnesses lighted the bridal couple to bed. The groom then removed the bridal wreath from the bride- a ritual deflowering before the real event.

Viking Sexual Euphemisms

The Vikings could be quite ˜direct’ about certain matters. However, they could also be rather coy about sex – or at least, so their stories suggest. The sagas had various ways to refer to sex that describe it in a rather round about way. A man about to have sex with a woman was said to ˜turn towards’ her, “laying his hand/arm/thigh ” on her. The rest was up to the audience’s imagination. However, what was clear was the man was in charge. He took the lead. His partner followed.

Once the action warmed up, the sagas implied the increased activity in similarly guarded terms. A couple in the throes of passion would ˜crowd together in bed” (hviluthrong) and ‘enjoy each other. ‘ If things were particularly raunchy, the tales would describe the man as enjoying a good old brolta a maga or ˜romp on her belly’ or describe the couple as ˜travelling together.” Once they had exhausted themselves, the couple spent the aftermath at ˜hvila meth henna ” (rest with her), or he would ˜amuse one’s self.’ This activity referred to him enjoying a quiet conversation or game of cards with his partner.

However, the everyday terms used by the Vikings were probably not quite so reserved, judging by sexual words they have bequeathed to modern times. The Old Norse ˜thviet’ for a cut or slit began life as a sexual euphemism for a particular part of the female anatomy. Gradually it evolved into the old English ˜thwat’ and later into the more familiar twat which is used today as a term of abuse. The same occurred with another Old Norse word for the female genitals “Kunta’.

However, not all euphemisms were this crude. In contrast to these rather basic sexual terms, the Old Norse for sexual desire was “munuth.” This word derives from the root word for love “mun‘ and that of thought or memory ˜hugr,’ making the sexual impulse a ˜love thought.’ So perhaps the Vikings could be romantic souls after all.

Adultery was acceptable for Viking men, but not their wives

Many Norse men adored their wives, judging by the last words of one man just before he was hung:

” Happy am I to have won the joy of such a consort; ” said the condemned man of his wife. “I shall not go down basely in loneliness to the gods of Tartarus. So let the encircling bonds grip my throat in the midst; the final anguish shall bring with it pleasure only, since the certain hope remains of renewed love, and death shall prove to have its own delights. Each world holds joy, and in the twin regions shall the repose of our united souls win fame, our equal faithfulness in love “(Saxo Grammaticus)

Sadly, however, not everyone practiced “faithfulness in love” The basic requirement of a Norse man was to produce children with his wife. He was not, however, obliged to be faithful. Norse men could keep concubines known as frilles – lower status women who they did not marry and who lived with the man and his wife. According to Adam of Breman, a man could keep as many frilles as he could afford. Society regarded any children from these liaisons as legitimate.

Norse men also kept bed slaves. These unfortunate women had little choice in whether or not they lay with their master. Nor was it a great advantage to be the master’s favorite. Ibn Fadlan described witnessing a Viking funeral where the favoured bed slave of the deceased man was killed to accompany him to the afterlife. However, the one taboo liaison for a Norseman was to lie with another man’s wife. For this, he could be fined or killed.

Wives, however, were expected to remain faithful, probably because of the possibility of falling pregnant with a child that was not her husband’s. It’s unlikely that every wife did remain constant. However, if anyone caught a woman being unfaithful, the penalties varied. At best, her hair would be cut off. At worst, she could be divorced or fined- or killed. Adam of Breman even states that she could be enslaved.

Viking women could divorce their husbands

Viking women may have had to put up with their spouse’s affairs. However, they didn’t have to put up with their husbands ‘until death‘. Although a Norse wife could not divorce her husband for being unfaithful, there were other circumstances where it was perfectly acceptable. If her husband hit her, a woman could fine him. If he abused her in front of witnesses, not only did the fine apply, but his wife could divorce him after the third blow.

There were also various sexual reasons why a wife could divorce a husband. Men who dressed in feminine clothing such as low cut shirts, for instance, could be cast off, as could those who were homosexual- even if they were the dominant partner. A wife could object to the lack of discretion in homosexual liaisons – or the attention they distracted from her relationship with her spouse. In each case, the now ex-wife could claim back her original dowry and any inheritances she received during the marriage.

Another, perhaps surprising reason for divorce was if a man did not satisfy his wife sexually. A man who had refused to have sex with his wife for three years could be set aside. Likewise, if he could not perform or was leaving his wife sexually unfulfilled, he was at risk of being divorced. For if a couple wasn’t having sex, they weren’t producing children. Also, an unhappy marriage bred bitterness and resentment that could boil over into violence and family feuds. So it was better for a sexually unsatisfied woman to look elsewhere for a partner.

Judging by the sagas, it was the women who generally instigated divorce. All that was required was for them to assemble witnesses, cite their reasons and declare themselves divorced. This had to occur three times: in their bedroom, in front of the house and before a public assembly. It was Norse women’s one significant freedom. For if they were to remain tied to one man, run his home and land and put up with his lovers, the least they could expect was satisfying sex life.

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emikorin · 3 years

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Who Is Higuchi Ichiyou? (Spoilers if you haven’t fully watched/read Bungou Stray Dogs)

Higuchi Ichiyou, a port mafia member and the one who commands the Black Lizards. She isn’t respected by the mafia, she isn’t useful to the mafia ability wise but why is she here?

Let us begin from the beginning.

Who is the real life Higuchi Ichiyou?

She was born on May 2, 1872 in a nagaya (row house) on the premises of the Tokyo prefectural office (present Chiyoda Ward, Tokyo Prefecture) in Uchisaiwaicho, Ichi shoku, Daini daiku, Tokyo-fu (Tokyo Prefecture). Her real name was Natsu HIGUCHI. Her father was Tamenosuke (Noriyoshi) HIGUCHI and her mother was Ayame, the fifth daughter of the Furuya family; Ichiyo was their second daughter. She had an older sister (Fuji) and two older brothers (Sentaro and Toranosuke), and was followed by a younger sister (Kuni). Making Higuchi Ichiyou the fourth child.

Her father, Noriyoshi, was a peasant in Nakahagiwara Village, Yamanashi County, Kai Province (present Koshu City, formerly Enzan City). Her grandfather seems to have been familiar with creative writings such as haikai (seventeen-syllable verse) and keisho (the most important documents in Confucianism); it is said that Noriyoshi preferred academics to farming and, as his marriage with Ayame was not permitted, they practically eloped to Edo. Noriyoshi began as a servant in the Bansho shirabesho (a government-run Western studies education and research institute) and, by good fortune, became a jikisan (immediate retainer) of the bakufu (Japanese feudal government headed by a shogun) by buying a kabu (a right to become doshin) of doshin (a low-ranked official) in 1867. After the Meiji Restoration, he became a low-level official and acquired the status of shizoku (a family or person of samurai ancestry), but was dismissed in 1876. After that, he made a living by working as a real estate broker and similar things.

As a young child, Ichiyo was raised in a family of moderate means, and she enjoyed reading from the time she was small; she read kusazoshi (illustrated story books) and it is said that she read through "Nanso Hakkenden" (a story of eight samurai and a princess of the Satomi family in the Nanso region) by Bakin KYOKUTEI when she was seven years old. In 1877, she entered Hongo Shogakko (Hongo Elementary School), but could not continue because she was too young, so she enrolled in Yoshikawa Gakko (Yoshikawa School), which had been established privately by Tomikichi YOSHIKAWA. In 1881, Toranosuke, her second older brother, set up a branch family and apprenticed himself to an earthenware painter. The family moved to Okachimachi, Shitaya Ward in the same year, so in November, she transferred to Seikai Gakko, a private school, in Ueno Motokuromoncho. She graduated from the fourth grade of the advanced course at the top of her class, but left the school without advancing to the upper grades. It is said that this was because her mother, Ayame, believed that studies were unnecessary for women.

On the other hand, it is said that her father, Noriyoshi, recognized his daughter's literary talent and let her learn waka from his acquaintance, Shigeo WADA. In 1886, she entered the waka school 'Haginoya,' run by Utako NAKAJIMA, through an introduction by Choan TODA, an acquaintance of her father from the days of the Tokugawa shogunate. In this school, besides waka, she studied classic literature and Japanese calligraphy of the Chikage school; dynastic style literature, such as The Tale of Genji, was the motif of Ichiyo's early works. During her time at Haginoya, Ichiyo met her close friends Natsuko ITO and Tatsuko TANABE and gave lectures as an assistant teacher. At that time, Haginoya was a waka school attended by the wives and daughters of the former regime's privileged classes - such as court nobles, former roju (senior councilor of the Tokugawa shogunate), and former domain lords - and of the Meiji government statesmen and military personnel. Although Ichiyo was shizoku, since her family had been farmers, she was treated as a commoner; she became introverted, and senior pupils from the upper social class called her 'monotsutsumi no kimi' (literally, close-natured person). When the first annual New Year's opening ceremony since Ichiyo had entered the school drew near, the topic of conversation among the well-bred young ladies turned to clothing and festive dress, well beyond the range in which the daughter of a low-class government official could compete. However, she quashed her feelings of inferiority and attended the ceremony wearing old clothes that her parents had borrowed.

Ichiyo's family moved frequently; Ichiyo moved twelve times in her life. In 1888, Sentaro, the first son and head of the family, died; Ichiyo inherited the family and became its head, with her father as guardian. In 1889, Noriyoshi's attempt to establish an association of draying contractors failed, and he died in July of the same year.

Ichiyo's engagement to her fiance, Saburo SHIBUYA, was cancelled. It is said this was due to the fact that, although the Higuchi family was left with a large amount of debt after Noriyoshi's death, Saburo HIGUCHI required a large amount of yuinokin (betrothal [gift] money). At the age of 17, Ichiyo was forced to support her family as its head and, in 1890, she lived in the house of the Nakajima family as a Haginoya apprentice. In September of the same year, she moved to Kikuzaka, Hongo (Bunkyo Ward, Tokyo Prefecture) and, along with her mother and younger sister, was obliged to live a hard life doing needlework and araihari (washing, stretching and drying various parts of kimono). It is said, however, that Ichiyo herself tended to disdain labor, and that the needlework and araihari were conducted by her mother and younger sister.

As Ichiyo's nearsightedness made her bad at detail work, she searched for other ways to earn income. When she learned that Kaho TANABE, a pupil in the grades ahead of her, had obtained a large manuscript fee for her novel "Yabu no Uguisu" (literally, Bush Warbler in a Thicket), Ichiyo made up her mind to write novels. At the age of 20, she wrote 'Kareobana Hitomoto' (Withered Grass). She used her pen name 'Ichiyo' for the first time in an essay written that same year. In order to make a living as a novelist, she also studied under Tosui NAKARAI, who reported on novels for the Asahi Shimbun, frequented a library, and published her first novel 'Yamizakura' (literally, Cherry Blossom in the Dark) in the first issue of the magazine 'Musashino,' presided over by Tosui. Afterwards, Tosui continued to take care of Ichiyo, who lived in dire poverty. Gradually, Ichiyo began to have amorous feelings for Tosui. However, a scandal about their relationship spread (although both were single, the customs of the time did not approve of such associations between a man and a woman without the intent to marry), and so she severed relations with Tosui. As if to emphasize the end of her relationship with Tosui, she published "Umoregi" (literally, Buried Wood), an idealistic novel in the style of Rohan KODA; it was completely different from her previous works, and it became the one that made her career.

Ichiyo became acquainted with Toson SHIMAZAKI and Tokuboku HIRATA, both of whom were well-versed in European literature; having come into contact with naturalistic literature, Ichiyo published multiple works including 'Yuki no Hi' (literally, Snowy Day) in 'Bungakukai.'

Her former fiance, Saburo SAKAMOTO (the Saburo SHIBUYA mentioned above) had become a prosecutor; around this time, he proposed to her, but she refused him. In order to relieve her straightened circumstances, she opened a variety shop which sold cleaning implements and penny candy in Shitaya Ryusenji-cho (present Ryusen 1-chome, Taito Ward), but closed the shop in May 1894 and moved to Maruyama Fukuyama-cho, Hongo Ward (present Nishikata 1-chome). Her experience on this occasion later became the subject of 'Takekurabe,' her representative work. She continued writing. In December, she published 'Otsugomori' (literally, New Year's Eve) in 'Bungakukai' and the next year, in 1895, 'Takekurabe' was published in seven installments, beginning in January.

Between the two works, she published 'Yuku Kumo' (literally, Going Cloud), 'Nigorie,' 'Jusanya' and others; the period from 'Otsugomori' to 'Uramurasaki' (literally, Purple on the Verso) is called her 'miraculous 14 months.'

In 1896, when 'Takekurabe' was published in its entirety in 'Bungei Kurabu,' it won great acclaim from Ogai MORI, Rohan KODA and others; Ogai MORI praised Ichiyo very highly in 'Mezamashigusa,' and many members of 'Bungakukai' began to visit her. In May, she published 'Warekara' (literally, From Myself), and 'Tsuzoku Shokanbun' (literally, Popular Epistle) in "Nichiyo Hyakka Zensho" (literally, The Daily Encyclopedia). Ichiyo had advanced tuberculosis and, when she was diagnosed in August, it was judged hopeless. On November 23, she died at the age of 24 years and 8 months. Ichiyo's life as a novelist lasted only a little over 14 months and in 1897, the year following her death, "Ichiyo Zenshu" (literally, The Complete Collection of Ichiyo's Works), and "Kotei Ichiyo Zenshu" (literally, The Revised Complete Collection of Ichiyo's Works) were published.

Her grave was in the annex temple of Tsukiji Hongan-ji Temple, the Higuchi family's ancestral temple, and was later moved to the Wadabori byosho (mausoleum) of Nishihongan-ji Temple in Izumi, Suginami Ward. Her homyo (posthumous Buddhist name) in Jodo Shinshu sect (the True Pure Land Sect of Buddhism) is Choshoin Shaku Myoyo. Literary materials including handwritten manuscripts and other related materials are kept by the Museum of Modern Japanese Literature and Yamanashi Kenritsu Bungakukan (literally, Yamanashi Prefectural Museum of Literature). Since November 2004, her portrait has been used on the Bank of Japan's five thousand yen note.

Now that we know her real life counterpart lets review her anime/manga self.

As a mafioso, Higuchi proves ruthless and fearsome, not shying away from killing her targets. When confronted by the enemy, she has a distant atmosphere to herself, often strictly no-nonsense and showing little sympathy for them. Quick to act, she seldom tolerates disrespect and detests those who underestimate Port Mafia.

However, Higuchi's personality, as her boss and she herself notes, is rather unfit in the Port Mafia. Beneath her tough exterior, she is easy to upset, hesitant, and quick to question herself. She even contemplated leaving several times, despite the inevitable hardships defection foretold. As a result, her subordinates seldom show her respect, many following her orders out of fear of Akutagawa's wrath. An impulsive spirit also leads her to tend toward drastic measures, consequently going against orders.

Her biggest weakness is her intense, bordering obsessive loyalty to Ryunosuke Akutagawa, whom she obeys almost unconditionally. She often insists on filling in for Akutagawa, worried about his poor health. Unfortunately, her loyalty is met with a frustrated Akutagawa's abusive and harsh treatment, often being called "unnecessary" to him. Nonetheless, Higuchi remains loyal to him. Her instinct to tell Akutagawa everything she knows ends up a key component to luring Akutagawa to the Guild's Moby Dick. However, Higuchi makes up her weaknesses for having a strong resolve, and she refuses to turn away when allies, especially Akutagawa, are in danger.

Thankfully, her determined and honest nature earns her Black Lizard's respect. She proves reliable and incredibly brave, even if her judgment is easily clouded under pressure. Even if questioning her position in the mafia, Higuchi shoulders its burdens and responsibilities to this day, understanding its vital role in Yokohama's safety. She also makes it a point to not be unnecessarily cruel to her opponents, acting strictly professional in Akutagawa and Port Mafia's names.

Her composure can often waver. Sometimes she is cool-headed and intimidating, other times easily unsettled and stressed out. Ultimately, she seems to excel more in covert operations than the frontlines, as a tendency to panic leaves her wide open in battle.

Higuchi however has some...strange relationship with the boss however. And this is mostly with what was already established above that the real life Mori Ougai had praised her work which made her very popular. So far in the anime there are three people who Mori Ougai seems close with;

Fukuzawa Yukichi, Yosano Akiko and Natsume Soseki.

Ogai MORI (February 17, 1862 - July 9, 1922) was a novelist, critic, translator, playwright, surgeon of the Imperial Army and Bureaucrat (Senior Official First Class). He was also Army Surgeon General (equivalent to Lieutenant General), Shoshii (Senior Fourth Rank), Order of Merit Second Class, Ko Third Grade, Doctor of Medical Science and had a doctorate in Literature. He is considered one of the great writers of the post-First World War Period ranked alongside Soseki NATSUME. His real name was Rintaro. He was born in Tsuwano Domain, Iwami Province (present Tsuwano-cho, Shimane Prefecture). He graduated from the University of Tokyo, Faculty of Medicine.

Shiyo Ho was born as the third daughter of Soshichi HO (father) and Tsune (mother) who ran a long-established Japanese confectionery shop 'Surugaya' in Kaino-cho, Sakai City (present-day Kaino-cho, Sakai Ward), Osaka Prefecture. One of her real brothers was Hidetaro HO who later became an electrical engineer. Shiyo entered a school of Sinology (the study of the Chinese classics) at the age of nine and also learned koto (a long Japanese zither with thirteen strings) and shamisen (a three-stringed Japanese banjo). After entering Sakai Girl's School (present-day Osaka Prefectural Senyo Senior High School), she devoured the Japanese classics such as "The Tale of Genji." In addition, she said, under her elder brother's influence, 'by the time I was twelve or thirteen, my greatest pleasure was reading literary magazines "Shigaramisoshi" (and later its successor "Mezamashigusa") and "Bungakukai" as well as novels by Koyo OZAKI, Rohan KODA, and Ichiyo HIGUCHI' ("Myojo" May 1906).

Around the age of twenty she started contributing her poems to magazines while she helped her family business. After participated in the Kansai Young Men's Literary Society, in 1900, she became acquainted with a waka poet Tekkan YOSANO at a poetry reading held at a Japanese-style hotel in Hamaderakoen and contributed her poem to "Myojo," an in-house magazine of Shinshisha (New Poetry Society) founded by Tekkan. In the following year she left her home and moved to Tokyo, and published her first poetry anthology "Midaregami" (Tangled hair) that expressed female sensuality in open fashion with which she established her style as a romantic poet. Later she married Tekkan.

In September 1904, she published a poem "Kimi Shinitamou koto nakare" (Thou Shalt Not Die) in "Myojo." In 1911, she contributed a poem that started with 'Yama no ugoku hi kitaru' (The day comes when a mountain moves) to the first issue of "Seito," the first female literary magazine in Japan. In 1912, Akiko followed Tekkan and moved to Paris, France. Ogai MORI helped her to raise money for going abroad with his wide range of literary works and large circle of contacts, and he also proofread "Shinyaku Genji Monogatari (New Translation of The Tale of Genji)" on behalf of Akiko to which he wrote the preface. On May 5, 1912, the Yomiuri Shimbun started a series of articles entitled 'Atarashii Onna' (New Women) with an article on Akiko's voyage to Paris, and on the following day the newspaper reported her departure (some 500 people including Raicho HIRATSUKA saw her off). The following June issue of the "Chuo koron" magazine ran a feature story on Akiko. On May 19, Akiko arrived in Paris via the Trans-Siberian Railway; during four months up to her leaving to Japan from Marseille, France on September 21, she visited England, Belgium, Germany, Austria, and the Netherlands and so on.

The same like Higuchi Ichiyou, Fukuzawa was praised for his work and put on the Japanese bill. Fukuzawa is respected and is still friends with Mori as evident in season 3 episode 9 where he said after leaving Lucy “I’m going to visit an old friend”.

Despite the many things Fukuzawa witnessed Mori do (which includes mentally abusing Yosano to have her ability of usage for the mafia) Fukuzawa still sees Mori as a friend and that is seen back with how Mori and Fukuzawa fought.

They both went for the more vital points of their body. Making their death quick and painless so that one cannot suffer compared to the other. Even when Pushkin was caught, the two had one brain cell in that moment and both punched the virus ability user.

Why are Fukuzawa, Yosano and Natsume relevant you might ask? Well, let’s address the elephant in the room.

Let’s dissect season 1 episode 11 first (chapter 14 in the manga.)

We begin with how Mori Ougai is introduced, which is through Higuchi. After the failure that is capturing Atsushi and selling them for 4 billion yen/dollars Higuchi reports to Mori about their failure. This scene made me, a fan of the irl Mori Ougai’s work, open my eyes and ears to see how the two interact:

Higuchi: “I’m truly sorry for this.”

Mori: “Maybe he’ll never regain consciousness.”

Higuchi: “No way!”

Mori: “Don’t worry. You two have done you’re best. It’s true that you failed in the assault of the armed detective agency, erred during the capture of the man-tiger and sank the freighter along with our cargo. But you’ve done your best, and that’s all that mattered. Making effort is the most important. Results only come second, isn’t that right?”

Higuchi: “....”

Mori: “Oh, yeah. The trafficking company Akutagawa destroyed during the mission...the Remnants of Karma Transit seems to be recruiting. They’re probably planning to take revenge on Akutagawa.”

Higuchi: “what?”

Mori: “Listen, Higuchi-kun. The mafia is essentially an economic body that uses violence as its currency. It doesn’t matter at what got sunk or who got killed but if that violence is returned to us, all our expenses will become liabilities.”

Higuchi: “How could you call those liabilities? They were the fruits of of Akutagawa-senpai’s efforts up until now!”

Mori: “Indeed. Akutagawa-kun is highly capable. His violence is outstanding even in the mafia. **But what about you?** “

Higuchi: “....”

Mori: “Higuchi-kun. Have you ever wondered whether this job is really suited for you?”

From what we have seen so far, Mori doesn’t seem angry at her actions. In fact, he seems more disappointed but with a hint of worry. Knowing real life mafia bosses, Higuchi would either get fired or tortured for her failures, yet she is here standing without any injuries. This is the most seen in the anime where Higuchi clearly is talking back to Mori, talking back to the king of the underworld.

The next scene is with the Black Lizards.

Tachihara: “This bastard Gin is always put onto sneaky jobs like infiltration and assassinations. Slitting the throats of families and friends on the higher ups order is quite a usual task. If he had meant it, you wouldn’t even have the time to gape.”

Higuchi: “Did the boss say he wanted me dead?”

Hirotsu: “Not yet, but who knows what will happen in the future.”

Higuchi: *cold face* “So you have come here to mock me?”

Hirotsu: “We’re only here to warn you to stay alert. If I were you I would come up with an insurance plan before the hitman starts closing in. The higher ups aren’t the only ones who are after your head. You and Akutagawa are the Guerrilla Squad directly under the boss’ command, giving you the authority to mobilize us in the combat squad, so your technically our superiors. However we don’t obey you out of your authority, but out of fear and respect for Akutagawa’s ability. Higuchi-kun, now that Akutagawa is out of action what power do you posses to make us obey you?”

Throughout the whole entire scene they say that Higuchi, despite her position as their superior, has not much authority over them. The only reason why they follow her is because she is under Mori’s direct order, so she and Akutagawa are second closes to Mori next to the executives.

Yet why is she here if she isn’t that important to the mafia according to the Black Lizards?

In the next page we see that she is against Mori’s order. Higuchi is going against Mori’s orders. This is a giant red flag because she is directly not following Mori’s order; this is enough to get executed under mafia rules yet she isn’t. How? How is she allowed to go through with this?

Let’s look further:

“But the only reason I never actually did it...”

“It’s not easy to break away from the mafia, but it’s not impossible.”

Let’s take the first sentence. She never finished it. She never said the reason why she never left. All we see is her remembering Akutagawa. This could mean one of two things; 1, she is in love with Akutagawa and wants to protect him or 2. She admires him for him using his ability more efficiently compared to her.

You might be asking, how did we go from Akutagawa to Higuchi’s ability? That’s simple.

Let’s remember Tachihara for example. At first we thought he wasn’t an ability user like Gin but it was later on revealed that his ability, Midwinter Memento, allows him to manipulate metal. While it has nothing in common, the name and the ability itself, this can be the same for Hirotsu.

Which means that authors have abilities, and Higuchi Ichiyou isn’t just some author. She is the first ever female author that got so high as being on a yen bill. So her not having an ability is rather suspicious.

Not only that but let’s look at how the novel 55 minutes describes her:

The novel described Akutagawa as an ability user, how would Higuchi not be described as a non-ability user? Because she is an ability user.

⁠Which brings us back to the first take. Many mafioso’s would get in trouble for going against Mori’s word. With Higuchi it is differently; in season 1 episode 11 you see that Higuchi was talking to Mori on a rather even note, her eyes shined a few times which means that she appreciates the praises but she still went against his word by saying “Akutagawa has done so much to be considered a liability.” She talked back against the boss, that would be considered a punishment in the underground yet Mori kept her. This is also shown in the manga where in the mall, Higuchi talked once again back against him but Mori warned her as if she was a child that wants to know more about her birthday present.

Compare this to how he talks to Hirotsu; a mafioso who is longer in the mafia compared to Mori.

He talked back to him and he got a glare and was questioned “what do you want to say?” In a threatening type of way. Knowing Mori, it isn’t because of the former boss because Mori doesn’t care about him anymore nor is it about Dazai taking his place, that is his main goal.

My theory is that Higuchi’s ability is that big of a liability that she is Mori’s secret weapon.

In season 1 episode 11 she keeps saying “it is difficult to leave the mafia but the reason I stayed is because...”

She never finished her sentence. She never told the full reason why she stayed. In the manga we are shown that she isn’t respected, that subordinates walk over her. Yet even with these facts, Higuchi isn’t fired.

She also says “it is difficult to leave the mafia but it isn’t impossible”

That is a lie because as we have seen with Kyōuka it is impossible. How does Higuchi have such privilege? Because Mori knows she will come back. The reason why in her monologue it showed Akutagawa is because she admires him for being able to control Rashoumon, the same way how Atsushi finds Akutagawa amazing for being able to control Rashoumon.

Mori favors her, and this is shown in a panel in Wan where Higuchi does an impression of Mori when he is with Elise yet instead of being angry at Higuchi, Mori directs his glare to Chuuya and Tachihara. There is also a chapter where Tachihara, Higuchi, Akutagawa and Gin destroyed the Black Lizard hideout but instead of punishing Higuchi (who was the source of the accident) he punished them all.

Let’s look at another thing; how close is Higuchi with Mori?

Season 2 episode 8 where Mori was stabbed by Fyodor. It was brief but we see Higuchi together with the boss. Out of everyone in the mafia; Kouyou, Chuuya, Kajii hell even Akutagawa could (but he was busy looking for Nathanial) it was the least respected mafioso. Not only that but Higuchi back in season 2 gave information that the boss gave personally to Higuchi to send to Dazai.

This could have also been done by Hirotsu or Gin who know Dazai the longest. But something caught my attention. Higuchi said “I researched your history.” This wouldn’t seem bad was it not that Mori keeps Dazai’s executive position open for him to return, so Dazai is still technically an executive. ONLY EXECUTIVES are allowed to learn the history of the other executives. Gin, Hirotsu, Akutagawa, Kajii, Chuuya and Kouyou know about Dazai because they have an actual history with him but Higuchi is an outsider of this. She is like the other mafioso who aren’t related to Dazai yet she did research on him, which isn’t allowed.

Now this might sound as if Higuchi is special but let’s look at something or more someone who also didn’t look special but actually is special; Tachihara Michizo.

On the surface, Tachihara is an arrogant, impulsive, rash individual, more than willing to solve problems through sheer brute force and his dual guns. A violent temper leads to frequent conflict between him and other mafiosi, namely Gin, whom Tachihara views as creepy and frequently insults, leading to arguments, and Hirotsu, who often shuts Tachihara's temper down by threatening him. Tachihara's self-preservation prompts him to obey Hirotsu in the end, albeit reluctantly. An apparent thirst for battle and arrogance fuels Tachihara's temper. He's often seen with a rather feral smile on his face whenever fighting. He seldom considers the weight of a mission over the rush of eliminating his targets. He shows no hesitation nor remorse in murder, in fact sometimes urging to just eliminate a troublesome person if he finds their baggage more than they're worth.

A prideful man, Tachihara despises being underestimated and belittled. This is a surefire way to get oneself shot.

His rebellious side doesn't negate how he values orders, seeing them as an utmost system. Due to this, he attempts to dissuade Higuchi from saving Akutagawa against Mori's orders, even suggesting an alternate plan that wouldn't disobey these orders. Furthermore, he maintains his composure when dragged into shopping with Elise, and tolerates her putting bows in his hair. Despite guards laughing at him, Tachihara doesn't snap. Despite his rough exterior, Tachihara is capable of thinking rationally, just not in the heat of the moment in the Port Mafia. He can recognize danger quickly and finds himself on edge over how nonchalant Mori, Kōyō, and Chūya's meeting went. Tachihara has a proficient understanding of how to deal with the enemy, alluding to a much more cunning side of his true nature.

Much of Tachihara's details of joining the Port Mafia are unknown, however, it is a ruse. His identity as the fifth Hunting Dog reveals a much more clever, driven man. Unlike Ango Sakaguchi, Tachihara always intended to infiltrate the Port Mafia, using his position in the Hunting Dogs to operate as a spy. His confrontation with Yosano is devoid of any rage, depicting a cold, blunt side as he explains his grudge against her for "killing" his brother. Regardless of who he is working for, Tachihara cares deeply for his comrades. He was first to try to stop Higuchi when she tried to save Akutagawa on her own and has been seen visibly harboring guilt for when he cut down Hirotsu and Gin for the sake of his mission as a spy. He has also been seen caring for Teruko when she showed she was heavily injured from going against a plane head-on. He's also notably patient with those who are spoiled, including letting Teruko sit on her shoulders with little protests of being her "slave" and letting Elise put a bow on his head.

Beneath a lot of Tachihara's rough and punk-like exterior is a strong sense of incompetency and inferiority compared to his elder brother who was praised as being "perfect" while he was deemed by his family as being inferior, even being questioned as to why he didn't die instead of him. These things have driven Tachihara to act out and live a life of delinquency and ruthlessness by affiliating with gang activity, but despite these things, he still couldn't shake off these negative feelings. His insecurity and desperation to escape his brother's shadow was so strong, that Tachihara took on the first "order" that allowed him to become someone "not like his brother or his opposite" and joined the Hunting Dogs and infiltrate the Mafia to get revenge on Yosano for "killing" his brother, even when he knew and acknowledged that all of it was an excuse to appease his own negative feelings.

Many didn’t think much of Tachihara next that he was a commander of the Black Lizards and just someone who is close with Chuuya in Wan, however in the current arc we learn that he is a member of the Hunting Dogs with his ability Midwinter Memento being perfect for to lure Yosano to him, and in his fight with Fukuchi we learn that Mori giving him the order to kill Fukuchi was perfect for him.

Tachihara’s ability is named after his famous poem;

*Neither pursuing nor being pursued,

I stand under a barren tree. I'm watching

my silhouette, now marooned on a spotless snow....

(My pale shadow somberly takes shape.)

I'm listening. Yes! I certainly

am listening to what my shadow sings....

In a plaintively nasal voice it sings tunes of long-gone

summer flowers never to return.

Without responding, "That's a bunting, that's a siskin,

that's a white fir

—that's me...I a siskin, I a fir...," my shadow and I

eye each other as though these statements once were true.

My shadow listens to my heart at song.

Like the hubbub of that old arrowing brook,

it listens to tears at song...on the snow.*

This poem is seen mostly how Tachihara lives in the shadow of his brother, how much he listens to what others have to say because he himself can’t find a reason to do something.

As we already had established, Higuchi Ichiyou is a famous female writer. And the characters based on the authors and their books have an ability.

However there are two (three) categories: Name based abilities and non-name based abilities.

(Three being a non-abilities)

Non-abilities: The Great Old Ones and Ultra-Deduction.

Name based: Beast Beneath The Moonlight, Doppo Poet, All Men Are Equal, Lemon Bomb, The Great Fitzgerald, Thou Shalt Not Die, Gone With The Wind, I Am A Cat, A Feast in Time of Plague, Anne of Abyssal Red, Moby Dick, Time Machine, Yesterday’s Shadow Tag, The Grapes of Wrath etc.

Non-name based abilities: Vita Sexualis, Midwinter Memento, Another, An Inherent Drop, Black Cat in the Rue Morgue, Little Woman, Demon Snow/Golden Demon, Flawless, Futon, Plum Blossom in Snow, Priceless Tears, Undefeated By the Rain, No Longer Human, For The Tainted Sorrow etc.

Higuchi Ichiyou’s famous short story Takekurabe (Growing Pains) could be her ability based on that Mori Ougai had praised her for it, which eventually became they key to her success;

“ * [Higuchi Ichiyō’s] ‘Growing Pains’ was acclaimed as a masterpiece, especially when the entire work was republished in a single issue of the popular magazine Bungei Kurabu in April 1896, Mori Ōgai… lavishly praised its every feature: … (Ōgai): It is not especially remarkable that this author, a member of a literary circle in which the Naturalist school is said to be enjoying a vogue should have chosen to set her story in this place [the Yoshiwara district]. What is remarkable is that the characters who haunt this area are not the brute beasts in human form - the copies of Zola, Ibsen, and the rest - presented by the assiduous imitators of the so-called Naturalist school, but human beings with whom we can laugh and cry together… . At the risk of being mocked as an Ichiyō-idolater, I do not hesitate to accord to her the name of ‘poet.’ It is more difficult to depict a person with individual characteristics than a stereotype, and far more difficult to depict and individual in a milieu than a special person all by himself. This author, who has painted the ‘local coloring’ of Daionji-mae so effectively that one might say it has ceased to exist apart from ‘Growing Pains,’ without leaving any trace of the efforts such portraiture must have cost her, must truly be called a woman of rare ability.* “

(Credit to Donald Keene, Dawn to the West.)

But what could Growing Pains do if it was actually an ability? For most we need to understand what an actual ability needs to have in common.

For this we will take For The Tainted Sorrow and see how this ability is related to gravity?

With literal names based abilities we look at Atsushu. Atsushi has the ability to transform into a white tiger. At first, he doesn't seem to have much control over the transformation, likely due to the fact, or caused by, his unawareness of his state as an Ability user. After becoming an official member of the Agency and under the influence of All Men Are Equal, he gains more control over his transformations - as shown during his second fight with Akutagawa, when he breaks the transformation on his arms to escape.

My theory is that Higuchi’s ability allows her to paralyze her enemies.

Let’s look as too why I think this and use the summary of Takekurabe as an example; The main characters are children living on the edge of Yoshiwara, the only district of Edo that was licensed for prostitution. As they grow up, they find themselves assuming their family professions and losing the freedom they enjoyed as children. Next we have Nigorie translated into English as Troubled Waters and Muddy Water, is a Japanese short story written by Higuchi Ichiyō in 1895. It depicts the fate of a courtesan in the red light district of a nameless town during the Meiji era. Nigorie centers around Oriki, the most popular courtesan at the Kikunoi, a brothel in the red light district of an unspecified town, and a group of people connected to her, during the summer Obon festival. Through her conversations with other prostitutes, and Oriki's accounts in the presence of new customer Yūki Tomonosuke, the reader learns that a previous customer, Genshichi, a futon salesman of moderate affluence, was addicted to Oriki and spent all his money at the brothel. Now that Genshichi has been reduced to the hard labor of a construction worker, forced to move with his wife Ohatsu and his young son Takichi into a smaller flat in a run-down section of town, Oriki rejects seeing him despite his pleas. Tomonosuke repeatedly questions Oriki during his visits. She reminisces about her poor upbringing, which she cites, together with her profession, as the reason for not wanting to marry, although she had contemplated the possibility. She recounts a childhood incident when she was seven years old, sent by her mother to buy rice for supper. On her way back, she slipped on the frozen ground, spilling the rice into the gutter, leaving the family starving for this day. Meanwhile, Ohatsu scolds Genshichi for his ongoing obsession with Oriki and the family's poverty, which she tries to mitigate by doing piecework. When Takichi comes home with a piece of cake, which he received as a gift from Oriki (whom he refers to as "the demon-lady"), Ohatsu angrily throws it away. Genshichi, furious about her ongoing accusations and behaviour, demands that she leaves him. Ohatsu begs him to let her stay, as she has no relatives she can return to, but finally leaves, taking their son with her. At the end of the festivities, the dead bodies of Oriki and Genshichi are found. While it seems obvious that Genshichi committed suicide by seppuku, the cause of Oriki's death stays unclear. The passerbys speculate about her fate; while one assumes a shinjū (double love suicide), another one reasons that the wounds on Oriki's body make a murder after her attempted escape more plausible. It is left to the reader to determine the true circumstance of her death.

From these famous stories we can already determine that Higuchi’s stories are centered around the concept of one-sided attraction. This is something she and Akutagawa have, a one-sided attraction. This is the most in season 3 episode 5 where Higuchi doesn’t seem to find her way of trying to confess that she loves Akutagawa or that she thinks she admires him. And what is there not to admire about Akutagawa? He has an amazing ability, he is reliable in many ways but is just stubborn. So with this in mind, Higuchi’s (if this theory is correct) ability comes in this form; Higuchi’s ability is a mix of a non-name based ability and a name-based ability. The ability of paralyzation has the meaning of that she is paralyzed by fear with job as a mafioso but also her fear of being rejected by Akutagawa and that it is the greatest liability Mori has in order to protect Yokohama-This idea comes more in mind in the manga, Chapter 41, where we briefly see Higuchi’s little sister. This may not mean much to you but Higuchi is the only confirmed character with a little sister who isn’t based on a book (Gin=Ogin and Naomi=Naomi). Which leads me to the reason why she doesn’t use her ability anymore or is restricting herself- and the second is the meaning of Growing Pains ; Growing pains are often described as an ache or throb in the legs — often in the front of the thighs, the calves or behind the knees. Growing pains tend to affect both legs and occur at night, and may even wake a child from sleep. Although these pains are called growing pains, there's no evidence that growth hurts.

There could have been an incident in which Higuchi accidentally used her ability on her little sister which resulted in her little sister being paralyzed. She could have met Mori and knowing Mori he manipulated in keeping her ability a secret and for repayment let her join the mafia. This idea is further proven with how he was with Yosano; after the death of Tachihara’s brother Mori manipulated Yosano into thinking that this is her fault, almost making her join the mafia out of guilt was it not for Ranpo.

6. Maybe Higuchi wasn’t as lucky and thought that what Morti said was true and joined the mafia out of guilt, which leads me as to why she fell in love with him. The nightingale effect; The Florence Nightingale effect is a trope where a caregiver falls in love with their patient, even if very little communication or contact takes place outside of basic care. Feelings may fade once the patient is no longer in need of care. Higuchi fell in love with Akutagawa not out of admiration but out of care for him. That guilt of not being able to take care of him could be because of her little sister and the fear that Higuchi one day paralyzes Akutagawa, as to why she isn’t using her ability. After all, this isn’t the first time there was a character who hid their ability to do things without it; Fyodor and Tachihara.

And the last thing that might confirm Higuchi’s importance is the way she acted in Wan and the Onsen drama CD. While Wan is merely a comedy it does call out the characters for their flaws and unique personalities, meanwhile the Onsen drama CD is like a filler but adds information about certain characters and their relationship; Higuchi included.

1. ⁠She stalks Akutagawa at first out of fear that other organizations might attack him, but at this point she stalks him with a mix of worry and not being capable of walking up to him.

2. ⁠She is rather open to nudity as shown that she said to Chuuya “it is my job to help Akutagawa even it means being naked” (or something along those lines).

In a certain chapter however where the Port Mafia had to disguise themselves as Mori, Higuchi was up and while she failed to look like Mori because she is very feminine she then used another tactic which is acting like Mori when he is with Elise. For most, Mori would have either glared at them and give them punishment, he glared at Chuuya and Tachihara (who were the closest next to him) instead at Higuchi. Higuchi broke many Port Mafia rules, many times she failed and has unintentionally mocked him yet she is still here.

so what do you guys think? Is this theory plausible?

#higuchi ichiyo #higuchi bsd #theories #speculation #bungou stray dogs #mori ougai #yosano akiko #tachihara michizou #ability

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godsofhumanity · 3 years

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12 titans headcanons please ❤️

yes ❤️

❤ warning: this is gonna be a very long post ❤

OCEANUS

Oceanus is the oldest of the Titans, and i really like the idea that he grew to adulthood within a day of being born.

i think i've mentioned this in some Gaia hc's previously, but i don't think that Gaia had any of her children in the "conventional" way that we're used to.. as in, none of her children were actually formed in her womb- instead, i imagine that she and Ouranos only had to place their hands on the Earth to cause their children to be born.

for the Titans in particular, i like the idea that Gaia caused a field of flowers to bloom, and within 12 of them were each of the Titans.

Oceanus bloomed first, and was named by Gaia (i think he's the only one who was actually named by her, herself- more on this later).

we know that Ouranos never cared for his children, so i think that the 12 Titans were originally born so that they could help Gaia take care of the Earth,, thus allowing Ouranos and Gaia to spend more time with each other.

so when Oceanus was born, he had to grow quickly so that he could take care of his siblings and raise them (Ouranos wasn't about to let Gaia go "wasting" her time taking care of children).

Oceanus builds the first village, and his primary motivation in everything he does, is to take care of his siblings.

i think he's very paternal,, though he doesn't like to show it.

Oceanus is very stoic as well... he hates brash decisions and always takes his time to think about things before he says something or does something.

also, in Gaia's absence, i think he named all his siblings, and i think that although all the Titans refer to him as their brother, they also have the understanding that Oceanus has been more of a parent than either Gaia or Ouranos, and they all look up to him a lot.

Oceanus isn't cowardly, but i don't think he likes fighting. he would much rather preserve the peace at the sake of his own freedom, than have said freedom but at the price of blood being spilled.

that said, he could definitely pack a punch if he chose to.

related to Oceanus’ unwillingness to fight, i think this is an important factor in why Cronus (who is the youngest) becomes King instead of Oceanus (who is the oldest).

technically, it’s Oceanus’ birthright to become King after Ouranos, but Oceanus doesn’t possess the qualities required to be a good king, and he knows it, which is why he never challenges Cronus’ authority or tries to take the throne for himself- he is absolutely okay with not being king, in fact, i think he’s grateful for it.

TETHYS

Tethys is, as the lore states, Oceanus' wife, and i think she's always been really close to Oceanus- the only one who truly understands Oceanus' deepest feelings.

since Oceanus doesn't really show much emotion physically, i think it's sometimes difficult for the other Titans to know exactly what he's thinking, but Tethys is very intuitive and understands Oceanus quite perfectly.

i think Tethys is slightly more energetic than Oceanus, but she's still the most quiet of all her sisters.

she too, prefers not to fight if she doesn't have to, but while Oceanus will wait for the very last opportunity to fight, i think Tethys can be persuaded to make a move earlier than she usually would.

i also think she's more adept at fighting than Oceanus.

when Oceanus and Tethys are referenced in poems and plays, they are usually described as the "primeval parents", and are often referred to as the "genesis for all" which i think is really cute, and although Tethys isn't the goddess of motherhood, i definitely think she's very maternal (i mean, she has 3000+ children, so we hope so, right?).

after the Titanomachy, it is said that Oceanus and Tethys became Hera's foster-parents, so i imagine that Tethys and Oceanus opened their home to many gods and goddesses, even if they were simply passing through.

Hera, in particular, i think had a closer bond with Oceanus and Tethys than with Rhea- and that of course is no fault of Rhea's, i just think that's how things happened.

everyone talks of this idea that Zeus would go around pestering Oceanus and Tethys when he was trying to court Hera, and i like that idea as well ^_^

i think Oceanus was particularly reluctant to let Zeus be with Hera because Oceanus has had sooo many daughters who have been effectively abandoned by their husbands (see: Metis, Asia/Clymene, Hesione, Eurynome, etc.) and he doesn't want that to happen to yet another one of his kids.. but Tethys, the sweet voice of reason whom Oceanus has a hard time saying "no" to, intervenes on Zeus' behalf perhaps because she sees something more in Zeus' proposals, which is why Oceanus finally concedes and allows him into his house.

CRONUS

now this guy >:)

i've said it before, but i just really really like the idea that Cronus is the epitome of "you either die the hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain".

before i said that Oceanus grew to adulthood within a day because he had to take care of his younger siblings, and following this logic, i think some of the younger Titans took more time to grew simply because there was no need for them to grow up quickly- they were going to be taken care of.

as the youngest, i think Cronus takes the most time to grow.

most of his life, his siblings are ordering him around which i think gets to him a little, so of course, Cronus has always been a little bit mischievous and a little sneaky.

i think he gets along really well with Iapetus. they are “terror twins” as Oceanus calls them, and as children, they would always get up to no good.

in terms of morality, i think initially, he’s actually quite sane and level-headed. he understands that war is brutal and should be avoided if it can, but he also understands that sometimes war is necessary. this is what makes him, initially, a good king- because he understands the need for balance.

but,, after sometime, i think he goes insane with Ouranos’ prophecy and he convinces himself that murdering his children is just a part of the job- it’s his duty.

i like the idea that Cronus sees himself first and foremost as King. being a husband and a father is second to kingship.

i always wondered what makes a man go so mad that he’d eat his own kids, especially after he literally deposed of his father for doing effectively the same thing- why would he willingly follow in the footsteps of the god he hated so much? well, i think it’s because Cronus is driven by this philosophy of being King before being anyone else.

he believes that it’s his job to protect the world, the way he did that first time when he rallied his siblings together to fight Ouranos. Cronus believes that his children are going to ruin the world and destroy his siblings, and he loves his family and the world too much to let that happen,, and if he has to choose between his children and the world that he has sworn to protect, well, as King, isn’t he obligated to choose the world?

and after that, he just goes downhill, and i think he loses sight of the bigger picture, and becomes the villain.

also- not relevant to the core of this section but i just wanted to talk a little about Philyra, the mother of Chiron by Cronus ^-^

so in the original myth, i’m pretty sure that Cronus and Rhea are still married when Cronus and Philyra get together,, and that’s why when Rhea catches them and gets pissed, Cronus panics and turns into a horse (which is why Chiron is half god, half horse- lololol Cronus, you absolute loser).

anyways, i love the myth because it’s funny, but i don’t like the idea that Cronus was actually cheating on Rhea- i mean, first you eat her children, and now you’re cheating on her?? c’mon, have some tact!

so i have my own little take on it, and that is that Chiron is born after Cronus gets disposed (so when Rhea and Cronus are pretty much divorced).

i like the Orphic version of events where Cronus gets sent to Nyx’s cave, so following from there, i imagine that Philyra must have somehow helped Cronus escape from Nyx’s cave (probably because she was manipulated by Cronus),, and when they escaped, they came to Mt Pelion, which coincidentally, is where Rhea, now happily retired, lives.

so that’s how Rhea accidentally discovered her ex-husband’s affairs (which is in line with the original myth where Rhea catches them).

of course, i don’t think Cronus ever cared about Philyra to begin with, i think he was just using her because i don’t think the “player” archetype suits Cronus- he’s not a romantic, that’d make him too similar to Zeus, and the last thing Cronus would want would be to be like his son.

anyways so where does Chiron’s equine nature come into my version of events? well, running from Nyx’s cave to Mt Pelion on foot sounds a little tiring, but luckily, Cronus is a god and can therefore turn into a stallion, so he and Philyra probably ran away like that.

i don’t think Cronus ever actually knows about Chiron. Philyra, in the myths, is ashamed about Chiron’s appearance (which is really rude and mean), so she abandons him, but i like the idea that she simply wasn’t ready to be a mother, much less a mother of a child born from a war-criminal, so she instead leaves Chiron on Rhea’s doorstep. and Rhea recognises immediately who Chiron is, but she’s the goddess of motherhood so she adopts him, until Apollo comes in a few days later and decides to take Chiron. anyways, so that was a little bit of a tangent but i just wanted to share that ^-^

another thing- i know we all like to make jokes about Cronus seeing children as good for only one thing- snacks- but in all seriousness, i don’t think that was the case. i’ve said before what i, personally, think his real motivations behind consuming his children were, but i don’t think he was averse to the concept of children and having a family entirely.

ok, i have to divert to the story of Prometheus to explain myself here, but bear with me for a sec- so Prometheus gets punished because he helps the humans- but why does he help them? why does he love them so much and why does he feel sorry for the way they’ve been treated by Zeus?

well,, we know that Prometheus was alive during Cronus’ reign. and during Cronus’ reign, Cronus made the Golden Age of Man where mortals lived in peace and harmony, free from interference by the gods, where no one did the “wrong” thing, and life was great. so couldn’t it be that Prometheus had seen what life for humanity could have been like?

my hc is that Prometheus had seen what Cronus had done for humanity and was appalled by what he now saw under Zeus’ rule.

so what does that have to do with Cronus and children? well, i like the idea that Prometheus grew up in the palace, and he had known Cronus all his life. i like the idea that Cronus actually spent time with his nephew, and was the one who first introduced Prometheus to the mortals. i think Prometheus and Cronus actually were rather close as uncle and nephew. so,, i don’t think that Cronus hated all children,, he just didn’t think he could have any of his own.

RHEA

Rhea is one of my favourites <3 i think she’s one of the cooler Titans.

i think her personality is defined by her courage, and her ambition- in fact, i’d call her the most ambitious of all the Titans.

as a young Titan, i think she got along best with Cronus and Iapetus, and i think she actually had a bit of a mischievous nature, similar to them. i think she enjoys pranks and good jokes.

she’s the kind of goddess who would do anything on a dare (i think she was pretty wild, and maybe a little shameless, in her youth, much to Oceanus’ distress).

in saying that, i think Rhea has also always been very headstrong. she’s not arrogant, or rude, but she if she has opinions, she will make sure you’re aware of them. you don’t have to agree, you just have to understand her point of view.

she’s also a little spitfire (a little like Hera tbh), and she is very good at fighting ^-^

but, Rhea is also incredibly kind and forgiving. considering what she goes through during her marriage, i think she is remarkably strong. while Cronus goes insane, Rhea remains standing tall- she survives Ouranos’ rule, Cronus’ rule, and is alive to witness Zeus’, and she is never on the losing side which is a testament to her character and strength of mind.

in the previous section, i said that Cronus follows the philosophy of “King first, husband/father second”, but i don’t think Rhea agrees with this at all.

there is never any way for her to justify to herself that her children needed to be killed- it’s a horrible and messed up idea and it’s honestly a wonder that she didn’t go insane after it happening to her children five freaking times.

i think that what makes Rhea a good queen is that she doesn’t work in absolutes- see, Cronus believes that either the world is saved, or his children are saved, but not both- but Rhea, who is always driven by courage and hope, believes that it is possible for the world to have peace and for her children to also be alive.

where Cronus is an architect of plans, and an executor, Rhea is the thought-process- the one who thinks things through carefully and evaluates the effects of the action... she’s more level-headed, and she doesn’t get angry easily.

after Cronus is deposed, i like the idea that Rhea remained on the throne a little longer- Zeus was simply too young to be allowed free reign immediately, so she kinda pulled the strings behind the scenes.

i don’t think that Rhea has favourites amongst her children. i think she is very protective of all of them and she loves them all very much, but i think the one she finds most difficult to get along with is Hera, maybe because Hera is the most similar to her (which is why Hera spends more time with Oceanus and Tethys than Rhea).

there are versions of the courtship of Zeus and Hera where Zeus and Hera keep their relationship a secret from Rhea because Rhea will disapprove of it, and i do like this version of the myth because i think it makes sense. i think Rhea has some fear that Zeus will repeat the mistakes of Cronus and Ouranos, and she doesn’t want Hera or Zeus, for that matter, to be hurt the way Rhea was hurt.

we know that Zeus had already swallowed Metis, so Rhea believing that Zeus could become like Cronus isn’t too hard to believe.

speaking of the Zeus x Metis myth, i don’t think Zeus swallowed Metis intentionally. i think that, at that time, Zeus was still incredibly young- he had only recently defeated his father, and was still finding his way around the world. so when Metis told him about the prophecy concerning her son defeating Zeus, i imagine that he must have panicked and lost control of his powers, and without meaning to, he had reduced Metis to her divine essence, and she disappeared before his sight (he thought she was simply dead, and didn’t realise that Metis and her child were dwelling within him). Rhea is the first one to discover what transpired between Metis and Zeus and she was probably pretty horrified.

but, Rhea knew that Zeus was still young, and of course, he’s her son, so she refuses to just give up on him straight away- instead, they work on things, and Zeus gets better, and they move on. but i’m sure that the incident gnawed on her mind, and she worried for both Zeus and Hera, hence why she was reluctant to allow them to marry. but as the story goes, she conceded, and Hera became queen ^-^

HYPERION

Hyperion is the fourth Titan, and i think that all-in-all, he’s a pretty chill guy.

generally speaking, Hyperion doesn’t really like to fight, mainly because he thinks it’s boring and the risk of his face getting ruined is just too great for him.

i think he is a little vain,, he loves flattery- he likes being complimented and he likes complimenting others.

i also think that he’s a little bit weak-willed, or rather, i think that when the Titans were all young, he would often be the butt of the jokes.

in saying that, i think Hyperion has good spirit, so although he’d be a little annoyed about all the jokes and the pranks, he never takes it to heart because he understands that it’s all just a joke.

in some myths, it’s said that after Ouranos was deposed, Cronus divided the world into four parts- Hyperion ruled in the West, Iapetus in the East, Coeus in the North, and Crius in the South, while Oceanus took the seas, and Cronus of course, ruled over time + the whole word in general- and i really like this idea.

after the Castration of Ouranos, i think it’s the first time that the Titans actually split apart and start living on their own and having families.

Hyperion and Theia live in the West, and have Selene, Eos, and Helios.

after the Titanomachy, it’s said that Cronus and all his brothers were placed in Tartarus, but given the importance of Selene, Eos, and Helios during Zeus’ role, i just can’t imagine that Hyperion was one of the Titans sent to Tartarus.

i don’t think he would’ve actively supported Cronus towards the end (i mean, he was very clearly insane and needed to be deposed), but i think at the same time, he would’ve been reluctant to oppose Cronus, given how powerful Cronus was. and again, there’s that conflict with the fact that it was Cronus who freed the Titans from Ouranos, so i guess things aren’t really that black and white for Hyperion.

if Hyperion did fight for Cronus, i think he would have done so only out of obligation (because Cronus is the king, and he defeated Ouranos).

THEIA

Theia’s the eldest of her sisters, and i think she has always been a bit of a natural-born leader.

i think she gets along best with Rhea ^-^

but while Rhea is a little more level-headed, i think Theia can be louder and more hot-headed, with a quicker temper.

given that she is the goddess “who endowed gold, silver and gems with their brilliance and intrinsic value ”, i think it’s a fair hc to say that she enjoys jewellery and pretty, shiny things, but, in saying that, i don’t think she could be bought over with gifts.

i think Theia is more strong-willed than Hyperion, and i think she is best reflected in Selene who takes after her the most.

i imagine Selene to be very graceful and elegant- willing to fight, but only once she’s carefully understood her opponents and her situation.

in the Theogony, Hesiod writes that all the Titans were hesitant about killing Ouranos, except Cronus who stood up and rallied them, and while i think Rhea was the first to agree with Cronus, i think Theia supported him next. but!! she wouldn’t have ever supported him during the Titanomachy- i think she would have taken Zeus’ side, if she was involved in the fighting.

also, this isn’t really relevant i guess, but i really like the idea that Theia’s weapon of choice is a whip. like one of those ones made out of a chain with the sharp blades at the end, so that it sparkles as it slices through the air. i just think it’d be neat :D

COEUS

alright, now, strictly speaking, Coeus doesn’t have much of a mythology- he’s pretty much only known as the father of Asteria (mother of Hecate) and Leto, and the guy who ruled in the North when Cronus first became king.

BUT!! very interestingly, in the Argonautica, it’s said that Coeus was thrown into Tartarus after the Titanomachy along with his bros, but he went insane and tried to escape, but Cerberus, being the good guard-dog he is, caught him and sent him back.

anyways, i think this is very interesting because none of the other Titans are really given such a myth.. i mean, none of the other Titans went so insane that they tried to escape from Tartarus (at least, not that I know of).

this myth fits in with my hc that Coeus has the least will/strength-of-mind from all the Titans.

to be honest though, in the same way that i don’t like the idea of Hyperion being sent to Tartarus, i don’t really like that Coeus would have been sent there either. his daughters are Asteria and Leto, and both of them must have been loved by Zeus.

Asteria’s daughter is Hecate, whom Hesiod says was honoured by Zeus above all others. so while Asteria isn’t listed as one of Zeus’ lovers, i think he had a lot of respect for her.

Leto, as we all know, was Zeus’ sixth wife and the mother of his beloved Apollo and Artemis, so there’s no doubt that he loved her.

and so, in light of this, i just can’t imagine that Coeus’ daughters didn’t appeal to Zeus and ask him to have mercy on Coeus, because if they didn’t plead for him, this might imply that they didn’t feel pity for him, which further implies that they might not have loved him as a father at all. and the natural conclusion of such a sentiment is that Coeus really wasn’t much of a father to them- and if that’s the case, then that means that NONE of Gaia’s Titan sons (except Oceanus) were good fathers. and idk, that just doesn’t sit well with me.

why is it that only the goddesses were spared? are they somehow naturally always gonna be on the hero’s side because they’re female? are the gods always gonna be on the villain’s side because they’re male... “boys stick together”? idk it’s dumb.

that’s why i like the idea that Asteria and Leto must have pleaded for him- i think he was a good father, and they did love him. did Zeus listen? i guess that’s another story.

but i do like the idea that Coeus didn’t really want to be on Cronus’ side, it’s just that he was scared of the consequences of opposing him- Coeus is regarded as the titan of “rational intelligence”, and if you ask me, it’d be pretty rational to not want to fight against a psycho when you have a family to think about.

also, i know it’s not a part of the actual myths, but i do like the idea that Coeus was a titan of magic/witchcraft as well, because that might explain where Hecate gets her abilities from.

PHOEBE

Phoebe is Coeus’ wife, and she’s also the titan goddess of prophetic wisdom.

once again, there really isn’t much lore for her beyond the idea that she was the oracle before Apollo.

this isn’t in the myths, but my hc is that Asteria and Leto represent Coeus and Phoebe’s domains- so while Coeus’ magic gets passed down to Asteria and then to Hecate, Phoebe’s prophetic powers are transferred to Leto and then to Apollo.

so, although, it’s not supported by the myths, i hc that Leto had prophetic powers as well, it just might have not been as strong as Phoebe’s or Apollo’s.

anyways, back to Phoebe- i think that the best word to describe Phoebe would be “sweet”. i think she’s very kind, and generous, and mild-mannered, where most of her sisters are a little more.. wild.

i don’t think she’s much of a fighter, nor is she devious or scheming. she’s really just quite innocent.

CRIUS

Crius is another Titan without much mythology.. his main role is as an ancestor of the gods, and apparently as the first to observe the constellations, thus why he was known as the titan of the constellations. which is pretty cool IMO.

i personally imagine Crius to be very intelligent and smart. i think, given his domain, he really enjoys stargazing <3

for the most part, he’s a very level-headed, calm, and reasonable guy, but i think he’s also quite aloof, and not very vocal about his emotions.

i think that he’s pretty comfortable with bending his morals to suit the bigger picture, and that’s why i think he does actively support Cronus during the Titanomachy (hence why he gets sent to Tartarus).

i don’t think he really cares for pranks or jokes. in a sense, he is very similar to Oceanus, and from all their siblings, i think growing up, he gave Oceanus the least amount of trouble.

Crius’ children are Pallas, Perses, and Astraeus.

i’d imagine that Crius has control over the stars and the constellations, and is capable of what i’d call “celestial magic”. and i think this ability is inherited by Perses, who becomes the father of Hecate by Asteria, and that’s how the magic gets passed down to Hecate, and why Hecate is so revered as the ultimate magic goddess.

just as i said earlier that Phoebe and Coeus aren’t really fighters, i don’t think Crius is a fighter either. he’s more of a strategist, and would rely on magic rather than using actual swords and stuff.

anyways, enough about the Titanomachy!! i think my third favourite pairing after Cronus x Rhea, and Oceanus x Tethys, is Crius x Eurybia!

there is no mythology concerning how they met or how they were married, but i like the idea that for most of her life, Eurybia was raised by Gaia and Pontus away from the rest of the Titans,, but Gaia, who is more risk-taking than Pontus, understood that Eurybia wouldn’t stay with them forever, so eventually Eurybia starts leaving their home more often and she goes out exploring the world.

and on one of these occasions, she stumbles into a forest in the South, which is part of Crius’ domain, and that’s where they meet for the first time.

i think that Eurybia is always more at ease with her feelings than Crius, and she’s very vocal about it,, which would make for a good comedy routine with the more conservative Crius, who’s less willing to let emotions rule his head, but under the guidance of love, eventually opens up more <3

+EURYBIA

Eurybia is not one of the 12 Titans, but she is the daughter of Gaia and Pontus, AND Crius’ wife, and i really like my idea of her so i’m including her here ^-^

in Hesiod’s Theogony, he describes Eurybia as having “a heart of flint within her”, which is a really cool idea!!! she’s also described as the goddess of “mastery over the seas”, which refers to the things that control the sea like the winds, and the Moon, etc.

her name also means “wide-forced”, so i imagine her to be a very headstrong and free-willed goddess.

because her father is Pontus (the sea), and she also has some control over the sea, i imagine her to be a little unpredictable, like the sea. i think she has moments where she can fly into an intense rage, or she could be absolutely calm.

i like this idea because she becomes almost the antithesis of Crius. where Crius is more calm and rational, Eurybia is more passionate and unpredictable. i think they balance each other out very nicely.

strictly speaking, Eurybia probably was not thrown into Tartarus at the end of the Titanomachy, but i hc that she was.

i think during the Titanomachy, she would have sided with Crius, and she would have fought on his side because she loved him and would have supported him in anything that he did (also once again, i don’t like the idea that Cronus only had the support of his bros, and that only the guys got thrown into Tartarus :/).

Astraeus is Eos’ husband, and Pallas is Styx’s husband, and both Eos and Styx, on many occasions in the actual myths, have been evidenced to be on Zeus’ side. so, although in reality, Pallas at the very least probably would’ve been on Cronus’ side (since, in the Theogony, Styx takes her children to Zeus first, and Pallas isn’t really mentioned), i like the idea that Astraeus and Pallas both fought on Zeus’ side instead, and escaped punishment.

which makes things tricky for Eurybia, because some of her sons are on one side, and then her husband and her other son are on the other side- what’s she supposed to do?

Eurybia is too headstrong to simply be passive and sit back and let her boys fight, so i think first she fights on Crius’ side, but then she also fights to save Astraeus and Pallas when they get into trouble.

i think she accepts that her children have grown up and made their decisions, but she also understands that she will always be their mother, and she will never bear them any resentment for fighting against their father.

also, one of Pallas’ children is named “Bia”, and i’d like to think that he named her after his mum <3

i think “Bia” is Crius’ nickname for Eurybia <3

IAPETUS

i hc Iapetus to be the supreme troublemaker amongst the Titans.

i think he has served as the largest source of headaches experienced by Oceanus when the Titans were young >:)

Iapetus loves jokes i think. he loves pranks.. all kinds of humour. he’s more street smart than book smart, and actually i think if he was trying to study, he’d lose focus after 2 minutes. but call him to participate in a prank? the guy is coming up with plans like a general preparing a war campaign.

i think as the second youngest of Gaia’s Titan sons, Iapetus has always gotten along the best with Cronus. prepare for trouble, and make it double :)

this is specific, but i’ve got this idea that when they were young, Iapetus and Cronus decided to slip some dye into Themis and Hyperion’s basins, so when they washed their hair, Themis’ hair turned pink, and Hyperion’s turned green,, but Oceanus caught Iapetus and Cronus and forced them to wash out the dye as punishment ^-^

anyways, what i’m saying is that Iapetus and Cronus have always been the closest of brothers.

i also think that Iapetus hates people who boast about themselves, or act as though they’re superior to everyone else, so he’s never really gotten along with Themis (who i imagine to be a little vain- more on that later), and that’s why he likes to play pranks on her (to irritate her).

Iapetus has five children- Prometheus, Atlas, Anchiale, Menoetius, and Epimetheus- by the Oceanid Asia... but i think that from all of them, Prometheus is the most like Iapetus.

i think Prometheus shares Iapetus’ mischievousness and his wit, which is exactly what causes him to end up being chained to a rock with eagles eating his liver :///

back to Iapetus though- i think he values loyalty a lot. so, during the Titanomachy, there is absolutely no question about him siding with Cronus- Cronus is his brother, and his King.. he set them free from Ouranos, and he even sacrificed his own children for the sake of peace, and, messed up as it is, i think Iapetus is pretty moved by that.

i think Cronus always had more guts than the rest of the Titans, and Iapetus always admired that,, which is why he supports Cronus till the end,, and i imagine he must have been really disappointed in Prometheus when he learnt that Prometheus had sided with Zeus :(

THEMIS

okay so in the above section i said that i hc Themis to be a little vain.

now by “vain”,, i don’t mean that she was a narcissist or that she was arrogant,, but i think sometimes her siblings,, especially Iapetus,, would mistake her advice and counsel as sounding a bit self-righteous.

Themis is the goddess of divine law and order,, so essentially- justice. and i think that from all the Titans, she has the purest sense of right and wrong, and she’s incredibly wise and sensible.

so for the Titans that tend to bend the rules a little- like Cronus and Iapetus, sometimes her advice doesn’t go down too well.

additionally, justice isn’t always what we want it to be- it’s not always nice, and it’s not always pleasant, and sometimes it doesn’t feel fair. and Themis embodies that concept, which is why she doesn’t always get along with her siblings (to clarify though- none of the Titans hate each other!! they’re still siblings, and they love each other, pre-Titanomachy).

as an individual though, i think Themis is very outspoken. she’s very loud, and i think she is just a little judgemental.

it’s said that Themis had oracular powers, and that when Cronus became King, he made her the oracle- and i like that idea, it makes sense.

although Themis can be harsh, she always gives good advice and wise counsel, and only a complete dumbass would hear her words and choose not to heed them.

during the Titanomachy, Themis undoubtedly sides with Zeus. and after that, i think she continues to serve Olympus with her wisdom and judgement.

this isn’t strictly related to anything, but in Egyptian mythology, the goddess of justice is Ma’at, and i love the idea of Themis and Ma’at hanging out together, doing social justice things... awesome ^-^

MNEMOSYNE

finally, Mnemosyne <3

“Mnemosyne” is such a lengthy name, so i have this hc that her siblings call her “Mnemo” instead (like, Nemo) :D

anyways, Mnemosyne is the titan of memory, and her children are the Muses, who pretty much embody every aspect of the Arts, and i think that really hints at Mnemosyne’s character.

i hc Mnemosyne to be extremely gifted at pretty much everything.

but, even though she knows that she’s really gifted, she isn’t the kind of person to show off about it. she’s always gracious and willing to teach others her talents.

i think she has a really superb voice, and when the Titans were young, i think she might’ve sung for her younger siblings.

Mnemosyne is also a little feisty i think. she’s short-tempered, but in saying that, i think it’s difficult to make her angry.

again, a kinda random hc here but i really like the idea that Mnemosyne’s weapon of choice is a battle-axe. i mean, she’s this sweet, kind-looking goddess, but she’s swinging her battle-axe and is about to wreak real havoc. it’s great ^-^

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (13)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: mention of infidelity, leading to insecurity (poor Sin-ae.) manipulation, cursing, unrealistic BOD meeting lmao

Chapter’s OST: Fight Song by Rachel Platten

Word Count: 5.1k

Series: CHAPTER 12 | CHAPTER 14

It goes without saying that one should either stay away or fight those things that destroyed them.

It was long overdue and you knew it. You shouldn't have let the Kims treated you like garbage. You should've fought them the first time they violated your peace.

But no. You did none of these because for the longest time, you felt like you owed them. You felt like you had ruined their perfect family so now you were required to pay for it.

It was like you were your father's souvenir from a long trip of fucking around. A memento that reminded Sin-ae and your siblings that Taemin betrayed them.

All souvenirs had limits too though. Over time, they started to deteriorate. You felt like this was happening to you. You were no longer that pretty little thing that did whatever the Kims wanted.

You had enough; however, it didn't mean it hurt any less.

"Hey, are you okay?" You heard your name being called. You felt his hand on the small of your back before you saw his face. He was keeping you steady in place.

"Huh? Um—" You tilted your head, meeting the gaze of the person who saved you from collapsing. "Architect Jung?"

You blinked at your former co-worker, making sure that you got his name right. You hadn't seen him in years. What if you remembered his face wrong? What if he's not Jung Hoseok, the only architect in this firm who Jungkook adored?

You remembered from years ago when Jungkook pouted all day because Architect Jung announced that he would be quitting his job soon. If you remembered it correctly, your best friend even shed a tear. He really liked this mentioned architect.

Luckily, Hoseok didn't push through the resignation. Until now, he was still working at Castle. All you knew was that he didn't like working on site. He preferred guiding junior architects and working in the office.

This was why it didn't come as a surprise to you to run into him today. You were simply curious if he was really the Hoseok you knew from years ago.

He looked different. His hair was longer and his gaze was dark. The Hoseok you knew always smiled bright. What changed?

"You don't look okay. Maybe we should sit first?" Hoseok guided you towards his office room.

You took a seat on the couch, watching as Hoseok strode towards his mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"Here..." He handed it to you after opening its cap. "Can I get you anything else?"

Hoseok sounded like a concerned big brother. There's a warm feeling in your chest because of the way he looked at you. It's as if he truly cared about your well-being.

"No. This is fine. Thank you, Architect Jung." You smiled politely at him. Sometimes you forgot that some people could show you kindness without having an ulterior motive. "You already helped me a lot. I'll probably collapsed on the floor if you didn't catch me."

You chuckled lightly. You were confused, guilty, and hurting. These mixed emotions were probably the reason why you felt like you were going to faint. You walked out of Taemin's office right after telling the Kims that you should see one another in court if they had concerns about your father's last will and testament.

You left instantly because you didn't trust yourself. What if you said the wrong things and made the situation so much worse? A part of you knew you deserved to inherit a portion of Taemin's assets despite being an illegitimate child. On the other hand, you felt like you were being unfair to your siblings for thinking this way. You took so much from them already. Wasn't it enough that you succeeded in breaking their family apart?

"Are you eating well?" Hoseok asked with concerned eyes. He was currently sitting on the couch right across you.

Architect Jung's office was spacious. It was bigger and comfier than Jungkook's space here at Castle. You wondered if it was because of his position or if it had something to do with his relationship with your father.

Your father always brought Architect Jung and Jeon with him whenever he had meetings outside Korea. The three of them were pretty close. Years ago, you actually heard Seokjin and Taemin fighting.

Your eldest brother was demanding to know why Taemin preferred the company of Hoseok and Jungkook more than his own sons. Your father was quick to defend himself, saying that Hoseok and Jungkook were architects and one of them could be his successor—the one who could help continue his legacy—unlike him and Namjoon who chose a different path.

Seokjin was wrong to drop the argument after that. He should've dug deeper. He should've questioned his father and exposed his secret.

You were not the only illegitimate child of Taemin. Hoseok was too. You found out about it on a very underwhelming day: today.

"Or are you still sulking because you didn't get to attend our father's funeral?"

You realized that some people could say mean things easily. Hoseok didn't know that his words hurt you, making you feel like you didn't have the right to feel sad about not seeing your father for the last time.

But that's not your concern at the moment. You squinted, like you're trying to see if Hoseok grew two heads.

What did he just say? Our father? Did you hear him right or were you just too emotionally drained to be conversing with other people right now?

"You get overwhelmed easily, my dear sister." Architect Jung observed with a thoughtful gaze.

You were still too stunned to speak.

"Now I'm not so sure if I should tell you all my secrets. You don't look like the person who can help me take down the Kims."

"I—I." You flinched at his words. Take down the Kims? What the fuck was he saying? "I don't understand this. Why would I want to ruin...my family?"

You cringed the second the question left your mouth. Even in your own ears, you sounded pathetic. After all this time, you still thought you're part of that family?

Maybe Hoseok wasn't the confusing one here. It's you and your stupidity.

"They're not your family." Architect Jung corrected you through gritted teeth. "Family helps each other. The Kims destroyed you and our father—"

There it was again.

You cut him off because the more he spoke, the more confused you got. Your temples were aching and suddenly, you weren't so sure if the culprit for your headache was still the Kims.

You thought Hoseok was making you feel perplexed. He seemed to understand the confusion he's bringing because he looked at you with sympathy as he picked up the folder on top of the center table, the same table separating the two of you.

"Maybe this will help you understand better." He handed you the folder.

It was as if your hand had its own life. You were already reaching for the folder before you could process what he said.

Hoseok urged you to open it and read the first page of the file.

You obliged. Lips trembling as you silently read the content. Your temples throbbed more. You had seen this same paper years ago. This was a paternity test result. You knew because Sin-ae demanded a copy of this when Taemin claimed you were his child.

"Y-You're..." Your heart was in your throat. Your face felt hot and it was difficult for you to speak.

Still, you pushed hard and asked; "you're my brother too?"

It's strange. To feel warmth in your chest.

Hoseok was your brother.

He was family.

"I am." Hoseok's jaw ticked. He swallowed before saying "I'm the eldest son of our father..."

Your hands balled into fists upon hearing that, not in annoyance but because of happiness. Finally, you felt like someone would understand what you feel. You asked Hoseok to share his life story to you, but only if he felt comfortable.

The last thing you wanted was to drive him away. Fortunately, your brother didn't mind sharing. It's not like he had a choice. Really.

This was the only way he could think of to convince you to help him make the Kims pay.

Hoseok started by telling you that his parents had a romantic relationship even when Taemin was already married to Sin-ae. Apparently, your father's legal wife had difficulty conceiving.

Taemin even thought that he and his wife would never have children. This was when he decided to be with Jung Jiwoo, Hoseok's mother. Just like your mother, Jiwoo fell into Taemin's trap.

Taemin debated if he should break up with Sin-ae after finding out that Jiwoo was pregnant. He almost did, but fate was cruel because just as when Taemin’s about to divorce his wife, he found out she was pregnant too.

Jiwoo accepted her fate. Unlike your mother, she wasn't demanding. She was content with the fact that Taemin treated Hoseok well. His eldest son was his favorite.

Things only changed when Taemin decided to form a professional corporation with his best friend Jong-in. He rarely visited Hoseok. He started prioritizing the company and his new mistress.

Jiwoo didn't mind. In fact, she even invested in the firm as well. Just like your mother, Jiwoo also saw potential in the business. She knew it would grow and become one of the best architectural firms.

Jiwoo invested for the sake of her son. She wanted him to have a good future, especially because it appeared like Hoseok was into architecture as well.

Hoseok was actually one of the first architects to work at Castle. He helped the company grow. Taemin saw the fruit of Hoseok's labor and even made a promise to make his eldest son his successor.

It was all lies though. Taemin felt guilty when Sin-ae broke down and found out about you. He realized he couldn't break her heart more so he decided not to tell his wife and children about Hoseok.

Taemin died without revealing the truth about his eldest son.

"Is that why you want to take down the Kims?" You winced after he told you the truth. "Because you hate our father? Because he didn't include you in his will?"

Your heart dropped to your stomach. How cruel. You honestly thought Hoseok was like you. You thought he just wanted to belong. To be loved...But it appeared like he was blinded by revenge.

"I don't hate our father." Hoseok scoffed, offended that you thought he was the kind of person who would bring down the people who were important to the person he hated. "He's an ass, but he loved me. I can't say for sure about you though."

Ouch.

You avoided his gaze because what he said hurt. Hoseok seemed to realize the impact of his words because his face turned pale.

"I-I don't mean it like that." He did. "I mean...I don't know." Hoseok conceded since he didn't really know what he was talking about.

He couldn't talk on behalf of his father. He could only talk about his observation.

"I think...father loved you." His voice was barely a whisper, like he was ashamed to say this to you. "Just not in the way you should be loved."

Hoseok pursed his lips. His eyes glistened with dejection.

"Because you deserve so much more, my lovely sister..."

You felt his stare through your soul. It hurt.

It hurt to think that you found someone who was going through the same thing as you. It just hurt that even when you're basically on the same page, you're still so different.

Taemin loved him more than he loved you.

But why? Weren't you deserving of his love?

"If I deserve so much more, then why do people treat me like this?" You choked back a sob.

You didn't mean to break down like this. You were so tired of appearing vulnerable in front of people. Why did it feel like they always have the upper hand?

It's not fair.

"Because you let them." Your heart broke into a thousand pieces after hearing Hoseok's response.

"So it's my fault?" You couldn't help it. Tears trickled down your face. It's like you had been slapped.

"There's no other way to put it." Hoseok was remorseful but not really. "Don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with you. You're full of love, I get it, but not everyone is like you. You can't expect them to be nice to you just because you're nice to them."

He paused for a second just to stare into your eyes. He looked desperate—desperate to make you understand.

"Some people...They're very entitled, you know? They feel like they can do whatever they want with you since they're conditioned to think you wouldn't mind."

You understood that, but Hoseok wasn't truthful. He was wrong to say there's nothing wrong with you.

There was.

People took advantage of you because you let them. That's your mistake.

He intended to help you correct it.

"But you have to mind it. Their horns will only grow if you don't deter them from hurting you. Before you know it, it's not just you who's getting hurt—"

Hoseok let out a deep breath.

"—it's everyone." He bit his lower lip. "Everyone is suffering because of the Kims and I want to put an end to it."

You watched as his expression hardened.

"You're the only one who can help me."

Despite Hoseok's revelation of the truth, you still didn't understand why he wanted the Kims to suffer.

He figured it's best if he showed you the evidence instead of just talking about it. Hoseok wasn't dumb. He knew you loved the Kims, especially Soojin. You might be tired of their bullshit; however, it didn't mean you would be happy to see them in pain.

Unless he gave you valid reasons.

"You think you can spare me some time? I'd like to tell you more things." Your eldest brother enquired.

You were still inside his office here at Castle. An hour had passed since he shared that he was also Taemin's son.

"Uh...yeah. I think so." Jungkook was supposed to pick you up. He told you to send him a message when you're done meeting the Kims and Taemin's executors.

You appreciated Jungkook's attempt to comfort you. He's always there to help you, but it looked like you wouldn't be able to meet with him today or any time soon. Definitely not when you had to fix so many things.

Hoseok ended up bringing you to his apartment. He showed you things you didn't even know were real.

"Here's the original copy of the documents related to the construction of the building in Myeong-dong."

You weren't sure why Architect Jung was showing you these documents when he should be handing it to the authorities. All of this information was related to the building that collapsed weeks ago. The investigation was still continuous and the management of Castle was going through a rough time.

"I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm not sure how else to convince you that I'm not the bad person here." Hoseok saw the way you looked at him when he claimed he wanted to destroy the Kims.

You didn't believe in revenge. You knew at the end of the day it's not going to be as fulfilling as what you thought it would be. What would you gain if you hurt people who hurt you?

Satisfaction? Yeah, and so? Would it change the fact that you got hurt?

"Take a look in that document. There's the original blueprint of the building. Kim Soojin designed it. She's actually the one leading the construction of the building, not our father."

The words escaping Hoseok's mouth weren't registering in your mind. Your whole attention was focused on the documents in your quivering hand.

Just like what Hoseok wanted you to do, you took a look at the document. Your brows snapped together, lips parting because of shock.

It hadn't struck you yet that the sole reason why the tragic accident happened was because of Soojin.

Accident.

By definition, an accident meant an event that happened unintentionally. Just by looking at your sister's design, you could already tell that an accident would definitely happen. Soojin was a professional. She was a licensed architect. How could she not know this wouldn't lead to death, injuries, and damages?

The building was poorly designed. It's like aesthetics were prioritized rather than safety. It's frustrating to see this. Hoseok also told you Soojin wanted the building to be constructed immediately so she designed it using inferior materials. It was easier to obtain these materials since it could be delivered the same day you ordered it.

This was unlike Soojin. She usually preferred ordering high-quality materials to the point where the budget set for her projects resulted in a deficit. She incurred a lot of cost whenever she accepted a workload.

"She's planning to join this international competition that's why she rushed the construction of the building." Hoseok explained, causing you to shake your head.

This was ridiculous. Soojin wasn't that dumb to compromise the safety of people just to win, right? She's better than that.

"I don't believe this." You practically shoved the documents back to your brother. This was a difficult pill to swallow.

You felt like everything you knew about your sister were all lies. She had a temper, yes. She was a brat, yes. But she was smart. She was a good architect. Or were you just convincing yourself?

"S-Soojin isn't like this." You wheezed, making Hoseok heave a deep sigh.

"Isn't she?"

You thought people only experienced life flashing before their eyes when they're on the brink of death, but as Hoseok asked this question to you, every memory you had with Soojin flashed in your mind, like it was telling you to not just look but see.

"But she's so kind to me." You deflated.

Hoseok looked at you with sympathy. Or was it pity? He pitied you because you were blinded by the idea of wanting to belong.

"She really did a good job manipulating you, huh?" Hoseok grimaced, wondering if he was at fault too.

He knew about you. Taemin talked about you. It's actually one of the reasons why Hoseok chose to stay at Castle. It's not simply because he had interest in becoming the next chairperson. He wanted to look after you too.

Was he too late? Why didn't he reach out to you?

"S-She did not manipulate me." Even in your own ears, you sounded pathetic. Why did you keep denying the truth? Deep down, you were sure Hoseok was right.

"She did." Your brother continued to insist. "A lot of times. You just misunderstood the meaning of manipulation because she did it so kindly."

There were two kinds of manipulation.

One was when a person used intimidation or violence to manipulate another being into doing something.

Most of the time, the people who had been coerced ended up hating the one who manipulated them.

This was the case with your mother. It took you long to admit that you hated her. For the longest time, you told yourself you loved her because at the end of the day, she was still your mother.

But she hurt you and abused you, so you started to hate her.

The other type of manipulation was when a person used kindness to get what they wanted. This was what Soojin did. She made you feel like you belonged, like she loved you—this was why you didn't hate her.

You loved her.

Acting like you’re kind was the easiest way to make people believe you're a good person. However being kind and being good were two different things. You just failed to see that.

"If you still don't believe me, then stay with me for a while. I'll show you everything you need to know."

There's something about the way Hoseok said these words that made you agree. You stayed at his place for days, refusing to go back to Jungkook's apartment no matter how many times he tried to reach you.

You couldn't afford to be distracted right now. Jungkook was a distraction. Every time you saw him, all you wanted to do was drop everything and just be happy with him.

Love shouldn't be your priority at the moment. You had to unveil the truth first.

Fortunately, you did.

Hoseok didn't stop providing evidence. You didn't know how he managed to talk to some employees who apparently knew about the real reason why the building collapsed.

Your heart was divided into two. A big part of you believed that Soojin failed and blamed her mistakes to Taemin, the other part of you still chose to trust her. This seemed to frustrate Hoseok because days after providing you legit evidence, he said he couldn't do it anymore.

"You clearly trust your sister. What if you heard the truth from her?" Hoseok furrowed his brows, irritated.

You gulped, heart beating fast.

"Okay," but you agreed because as stated, you knew deep down that evidence didn't lie.

You got what you wanted and Hoseok felt like he could finally breathe.

"You believe me now?" Your brother folded his hands over his chest. A sigh of relief escaped his lips upon seeing you nod your head at once.

The evidence you were looking for was hearing the truth coming from Soojin. You heard her admit the truth when she and Sin-ae were at the columbarium.

"There's nothing holding you back this time?" He pressed.

You nodded again, this time, you were more determined as you clenched your fist and gritted your teeth.

"Nothing..."

This was the story that unfolded days ago. Right now, you were standing behind Hoseok here at the conference room in Castle.

Everyone anticipated your move. They watched you deliver that shocking news. It was oddly satisfying—to watch the surprise staining their face.

Sin-ae clearly wanted to lash out on everyone, unfortunately she couldn't use the 'this is impossible' card because before she could even breathe, the evidence was provided to every person in the meeting.

Mr. Han and the other shareholders had a smug look on their faces. They weren't bothered that Hoseok wasn't carrying Taemin's last name. What's important to them was that now they had a better option.

Anyone was obviously better than having Soojin as the next chairperson.

"H-How do we know you didn't fabricate the result?" Sin-ae desperately groaned as she glared at Hoseok. This was bad. So fucking bad. "My husband is dead!"

Your father's wife was arguing that Taemin was cremated. She firmly believed that the result had been tampered.

This belief of hers had been shattered when Namjoon interjected the conversation. He stood up, gaze focused on his wailing mother. Sin-ae was hurt. Of course she was. She just found out that her late husband cheated on her more than once.

She couldn't help but wonder if there's something wrong with her. Just like you, she was insecure. Wasn't she enough?

"The result is not fabricated, mother." Namjoon started. Eyes so soft that it broke Sin-ae more. "Architect Jung Hoseok is my father's son too. I helped prove it."

Your eyes widened upon hearing that. Shit. You thought you're the only one who had revelation to make today. Who would have thought that one of your siblings would do something like this?

"Hoseok-hyung and I requested a sibling DNA test. The file in front of you will show you the result."

"If Mr. Jung Hoseok is also entitled to legitime, shouldn't you be discussing this in court?" One of the shareholders raised his concern.

You turned to that shareholder.

"You don't have to worry about that, Mr. Kang. My brother's share in our father's estate has been settled. I transferred my shares in this company to him."

"You did not!" Soojin seethed after a long moment of silence on her part. She was glaring at you like you betrayed her.

It used to crush your soul, but seeing her today didn't make you feel anything. You stared back at your sister impassively.

Her face was crimson, eyes growing big and hands balling into fists. She looked like she could kill you.

"She did." Hoseok interjected, shooting your sister a taunting smile. Hoseok was seated right across Soojin. He could see her nostrils flaring. "I am this firm's major shareholder. Right, Architect Jeon?"

It was made known to everyone in this room that Jungkook sold his share to Hoseok. This only drove Soojin and her mother more vexed.

They were seeing red.

Soojin started throwing things. She angrily pushed all things she saw on the long table, shouting and blaming you for ruining her chance to become the next chairperson.

"Bold of you to assume you still have a chance to run this firm when you're nothing but trash." You surprised yourself when you said this.

Soojin too. Sin-ae, Seokjin, and basically everyone gaped at you. Your blank face was all they saw though. You were getting bolder now. It wasn't easy, but you found courage every time you thought about the bereaved families of the victims of Soojin's incompetence.

"What did you just say to me?" Her face flushed, heartbeat increasing because of hatred and disbelief. She wanted to scratch your face and drag you to hell.

You were a fucking bitch.

"Don't play dumb with me, Kim Soojin. You know what I'm talking about." Your shoulders squared as you lifted your chin. "Or would you rather I show everyone in this room the evidence you thought you already got rid of?"

For a second Soojin looked like she had a smart retort, but her face turned white when she heard your question.

It's the same expression she had when she saw you at the columbarium many days ago. Fear was never a good look on Soojin. Because unlike you, she wasn't used to feeling this way.

She always won, always got what she wanted. But not this time.

Definitely not this time.

"What is this all about?" Mr. Kang puckered his lips, unamused as he stated his opinion. He said he didn't have time for family drama.

"This isn't drama, Mr. Kang. This issue concerned all of you." You didn't waste any more time. "Castle is going through a rough time now because of the accident that occurred in Myeong-dong. I know the investigation is still on-going and we're all tensed as to how this will affect us, especially because you all believe the culprit is my father. But—"

"No!" Soojin and her mother tried to stop you, but the shareholders were done with them. They said they'd kick out Soojin and Sin-ae if they didn't act professionally.

This was a corporate meeting. It didn't take a genius that one should be in their best behavior.

You continued.

"The building collapsed not because of Kim Taemin but because of Architect Kim Soojin. She led the construction of it. I have here all the written evidence." You nodded your head at your father's former secretary, silently asking to flash the evidence on the projector. Some employees proceeded to hand out the same copy of documents Hoseok showed you before, the one that would prove that your claims were real.

"And before you accused us of fabricating the results, well then, it won't be warranted. We have corroborated with the employees who worked with Architect Kim Soojin regarding this construction. They were bribed with money, but through persuasion, we have convinced them to take the moral high ground."

You elucidated that these coerced employees were willing to take the stand during Soojin's trial—yes, after all she had done, you were certain that Castle and the law would hold her accountable.

It's evident by the way the shareholders and the board reacted with the news. They still gave Soojin an option though: either go to the station on her own or the management would be forced to call the authorities right now.

"She'll turn herself in." It wasn't Soojin who decided this. It was Seokjin. Your brother was looking at you as he said this.

His face was void of any emotion. It caused your heart to skip a beat, wondering if Seokjin hated you even more now.

He didn't speak during the meeting. He remained frozen on his spot, just sternly watching the scene unfold in front of him. Another thought popped inside your head: did he know about Hoseok too? Namjoon did.

"What are you saying, oppa!? I'm not—” Soojin protested but Seokjin shook his head, wrapping his arms around your sister's shoulder and pulling her into his chest.

Seokjin whispered something to Soojin. No one heard it except your sister and probably Sin-ae who was standing close to her children.

Whatever Seokjin said to your sister worked because she stopped trembling and protesting. She stayed close to him though, face still buried on Seokjin's chest.

The vice chairperson was talking to Seokjin, probably about the criminal case. You watched as Hoseok and Namjoon joined the conversation. There were other shareholders trying to pry more information out of the Kims.

You were on the far corner of the room, observing them.

The conversation went on for about five minutes before you saw Seokjin walking away, gently holding his sister's hand and taking her with him.

Namjoon and Sin-ae followed them. Your brother spared you a glance.

You shuddered at his stare even though it's not cold. It's the usual way Namjoon looked at you, no emotion but like...he knew something you didn't. It always made you uncomfortable.

Even until now.

Luckily, Jungkook was here to make it all better. You felt his hand wrapping around your shoulder tightly. Just like what Seokjin did to Soojin, your best friend pulled you closer to him.

Your knee jerk reaction was to lean your head against his shoulder.

Jungkook smiled sincerely even though you couldn't see his face. You watched Namjoon walk away as Jungkook whispered "it's going to be okay, Tiger," in your ears.

His voice was so soft and gentle that you were compelled to believe that yes, everything will be okay soon.

this chapter is inspired by the quote I saw somewhere: if you demonized the demons, you’re the demon.

Ah. Two chapters left! How do we feel? I was shocked to see your reactions from the last chapter! The twist there is written on a whim 😭 I hope I didn’t disappoint you with this update! 🥺

I haven’t edited this. Please don’t mind the errors.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #armywriterssupport #jungkook romance #jungkook series #jungkook fic #jjk #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook best friend #best friend jungkook #jungkook best friends to lovers #jungkook friends to lovers

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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somewhere only we know | doyoung (m)

title: somewhere only we know pairing: elf!doyoung x dryad!reader genre: fantasy, major angst, fluff, smut, royal!au, 1800s!au summary: as the Crown Prince faces increasing pressure to select a wife, he finally falls in love over the course of a summer—charmed by the sounds of nature and a mysterious tree nymph. word count: 32,000+ warnings: major character death, descriptions of death, familial conflict, discrimination/prejudice (both regarding familial lineage and species), classism, physical violence, descriptions of fire, voyeurism (but not in a kink context), strict gender roles/gender stereotypes, sexism/sexist language, some sexual jokes/vulgar language, outdoor sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex (don’t try at home) a/n: this felt like writing a movie, especially towards the end, and i am TIYADDD. i usually actively avoid writing this many characters/plot points because it gets hard to keep things organized, so this fic was a serious test of my abilities lol... there may or may not be an epilogue after this, but that depends on the audience’s (y’all) interest in one

as always, let’s keep in mind this is just fiction and not a judgment of or truly accurate representation of the personalities of any of the idols depicted in this story.

@constipation08 thank you for the request and fic idea, this has been a wild ass ride lmao 😭

“Why do we have to leave the kingdom?! I was doing just fine right here!”

“Because our parents say we have to,” Mark replies nonchalantly, already growing weary of hearing Donghyuck’s griping about the King and Queen’s decision. The younger male throws himself onto his bed beside Mark, sighing loudly the entire time.

Donghyuck turns over on his back to give Mark a look. “But why do we need to leave to take gentlemen’s lessons? None of us here need to learn how to be gentlemen, we already are. At least, I am.”

“Your behavior is saying otherwise,” Doyoung counters, watching the two younger men from the bedroom’s doorway. “Perhaps it won’t be that bad. You’ll get to get away from the kingdom for a few months. It’s almost like a vacation.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “No vacation I’ve ever heard of involves work.”

“I don’t know, I’m a bit interested,” Mark says. “Everyone says Eupheme has the best gentlemen’s tutors in the country, so maybe it’ll be—”

“Ugh, don’t say fun.” Donghyuck grabs a pillow from the head of the bed and smacks Mark across the face with it, causing the other man to yelp in surprise and topple over. They soon become embroiled in a battle of who can land the most hits with their respective pillows, which eventually evolves into them wrestling each other.

“See, this is why mother and father say you all need etiquette lessons. It’s like everything you learned as kids evaporated as soon as you hit puberty.” Doyoung shakes his head, but he also can’t help but laugh a little at their continual bickering. “You’ll spend a few months in the company of the other princes, too, so it’s not all bad. I really don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Maybe because he won’t get to see Nayeon while he’s gone,” Mark says this while Donghyuck has him in a headlock, and the younger boy’s grip tightens around his neck.

“Shut up, Mark!”

Doyoung snorts. “Oh, how could I forget?” Nayeon was the daughter of a local lawmaker and someone who Donghyuck had obviously fancied for a while. Nayeon seemed to enjoy his company well enough, and she was undoubtedly within a proper social standing that everyone approved of, should marriage ever come into question. And, perhaps most importantly, she was also of elven blood. Nevertheless, there was talk that her heart had already been captured by another. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Maybe she’ll realize she really is in love with you while you’re gone.”

“Or she’ll enjoy the sweet silence she gets without hearing Donghyuck chatting her ear off at every available moment.” This comment from Mark sends them into another bout of rolling around on the bed, trying to land hits on each other.

“I pity your future wife,” Donghyuck huffs as Mark tries to overtake him. “She’ll get the title of princess in exchange for what? A husband who will be too frightened to peel the sheets back on her first night!”

Doyoung rolls his eyes when he sees the fighting clearly isn’t coming to an end any time soon. Despite that, he certainly isn’t inclined to try to break them up; the last time he got in the middle of one of their scuffles, he ended up with an accidental black eye. The thought of trying to explain to the public what had happened was too embarrassing for words, and he was resigned to stay confined to the castle as it healed.

It would not surprise him if that incident were a part of the equation that finally convinced their parents to send them away for additional royal training. He, for one, isn’t complaining about it.

Doyoung waves his hand and decides to take his leave, quickly tiring of their theatrics. “You two have fun, then. Try not to kill each other; we’re expected to arrive in Eupheme all in one piece.”

They spend the next few days making the necessary preparations to leave for Eupheme—picking out luggage, selecting which outfits to bring, and deciding which guards will accompany them. Their parents have already arranged for them to stay with the King and Queen of Eupheme, who they are long-time friends of, and their three sons, Jeno, Jaemin, and Jisung. Once there, Jungwoo, Mark, Donghyuck, and Sicheng will receive gentlemen’s tutoring alongside the younger three men.

Though they have been to Eupheme and the King and Queen’s home in the past as adolescents, their destination this time is a little different, with a new royal castle only just coming to completion a few years back. The King of Eupheme, always one to pull out all the stops with luxury and extravagance, had seen it fit to build a bigger and more attractive castle in the very center of the kingdom. Their old mansion would go to the oldest son and Crown Prince, Jeno, whenever he married.

The King and Queen of Ceres decide to appoint Doyoung as a chaperone for the boys because of his seniority as Crown Prince—and also because he’s the only older brother they’ll even attempt to listen to. Yuta and Jaehyun stay behind to handle other royal affairs and ambassadorial duties in Doyoung’s place. Some members of the Royal Court are far from thrilled by Doyoung’s departure and Yuta’s taking over a portion of his responsibilities in his absence, but they also know better than to air their grievances out in the open where any of the family could hear.

Yuta is initially not too pleased about being left out of the trip, but he knows there are obligations to attend to in Ceres. He also won’t deny that he relishes being given this role to play, feeling like he has obtained some heightened level of importance within the family for the first time in a long time. He tries not to be so conspicuous about how often he thinks about the position of Crown Prince, and what it might be like if he were only a year older and born of the same mother as his brothers. Yuta tends to think of himself as a master actor in maintaining his unfazed façade concerning his lowered station within the family, with no one the wiser. Well, except for the one he can trust.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is not nearly so chagrined by having to stay as Yuta is. But of course, leaving would mean having to pause his budding romance with the daughter of the Marquess, so he’s more than willing to stay if tasked to do so.

The day of their departure comes fast. Soon, they’re all standing outside the castle as the servants load the men’s things into several of their stagecoaches. The five of them bid their farewells to their parents and two brothers, if a bit over-exaggeratedly.

“I hope you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone,” Donghyuck says, crowding up to Jaehyun and annoying him with kissy faces.

Jaehyun smiles and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. Try not to torment our cousins too much.” Even with his joking, he gives the younger boy a hug and pets his hair before letting him go off to bother Yuta.

Doyoung is already there talking with Yuta, placing his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Take care of things while I’m gone, yeah? If there’s anyone around here who can do it, it’s you.”

“Of course, brother. I always honor my duties.” Then Yuta smirks. “Don’t let Jaehyun hear you saying that, though.”

Sicheng isn’t happy about being separated from Yuta for a span of months, but he doesn’t complain in front of the others about it. He simply gives his brother a long hug, sighing into his shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” Yuta insists, trying to get Sicheng to wipe the pout off his face. “Look at the bright side of it. When you come back, you’ll finally have some proper manners.” Yuta gently pinches his ear and Sicheng makes a face at that, though his lips quirk up in a small smile.

“Maybe. For their sake, perhaps these lessons won’t go to complete waste.” Sicheng glances at his other brothers as he says this, and he gives Yuta another nod before walking to one of the stagecoaches.

“Do take care of your brothers,” the Queen says to Doyoung, fixing his collar and patting his shoulders like she often did when he was smaller. Then she sighs. “We have not been parted for such a long time in years. Hurry back, my son…and please remember to be patient with them…you know how they can be.”

Doyoung smiles as she pats his cheek, though he feels a little embarrassed at his mother’s fussing over him. “I promise everything will go well, mother. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Sicheng and Mark take one stagecoach while Doyoung, Donghyuck, and Jungwoo take the other; their guards and servants have another two to themselves. After everyone is loaded in, they wave goodbye to the King and Queen as they ride away from the castle and towards a summer ahead in Eupheme.

In the stagecoaches, it takes a journey of nearly three days to reach Eupheme. By then, everyone is more than ready to get some space away from each other. Their stagecoaches are more finely outfitted than the ones used for public travel by the common folk, but that still doesn’t make them pleasant to keep an extended stay in. There’s nothing quite like being stowed up in one small space with your siblings for days to realize the value of alone time.

The castle, they find out as they ride along the path leading to it, sits not too far from a nearby village. Beyond that village, an expansive forest stretches out along the land. As to be expected, new property comes with new people and sights.

The princes had not last visited Eupheme since before the new castle was completed; now, all this newness comes as a welcome surprise. Donghyuck and Jungwoo press their faces up against the stagecoach window to catch glimpses of the village through the trees as they drive past. It’s raining lightly outside, and the waterdrops slide against the windowpanes as they peer out, obscuring their vision slightly.

Doyoung can already see the rapt excitement in their eyes. “Remember we didn’t come here to play in the village all day,” Doyoung tells the others, sighing deeply as he already knows what their plans will be

“Doesn’t mean we won’t, brother,” Jungwoo chuckles, and Donghyuck voices his agreement.

In Sicheng and Mark’s stagecoach, they also look at the scenery with fascination.

“It’s quite different from their old home,” Sicheng remarks. “But prettier.”

Mark presses his palm against the stagecoach’s interior wall, beside the windowpane, and focuses his energy to create a small portal to the outside. He sticks his hand through it to feel the raindrops pattering against his fingers; the air outside is humid and sticky.

“Showboat. You could’ve just opened the window,” Sicheng points out, though he smirks in amusement.

Their cousins’ castle is a grand thing. It’s similar to their own in many ways, but one thing the Euphemian royals have always prided themselves on is their outstanding landscaping. Their front lawn, backyard, and the surrounding fields create a vast world of their own, filled with intricately-shaped hedges, rare flowers, unique stone statues, and even a winding maze of greenery leading to the castle’s front entrance. It was more than enough land for anyone to get lost in for days. One could spend a week just traversing their entire property alone—forget the village and forest.

As their entourage of stagecoaches makes its way through the path to the mansion, the men talk more excitedly with each other, planning the things they hope to do once they get settled in. The King and Queen of Eupheme and their three sons are already standing in front of the castle steps ready to greet them once they arrive.

“Doyoung!” Jeno calls out the prince’s name as soon as he sees his head pop out of the window, and Doyoung waves excitedly to the younger man as he and the others get out.

Once all five men exit the carriage, they bow to the King and Queen.

“It is so good to see you all again after such a long time,” the Queen says, clasping her hands together with a warm smile.

“Surely, you’ve all grown into fine young men.” The King is a big, intimidating man, even for someone of his rank, and the current smile he wears does little to take away from that fact, but the five men return the gesture all the same.

The men get reacquainted with their cousins as the servants unload their things from the stagecoaches.

“You’ve grown up so much. Let me look at you,” Doyoung says, fawning over Jeno as the other men look on and laugh.

“You act worse than a parent,” Jungwoo says, giggling at Jeno’s blushing face.

Sicheng nods his agreement, looking at the two with an embarrassed expression. “Quite obviously—why do you think they picked him to be our chaperone?”

“Come on, we’ll give you a tour around the castle,” Jisung says, excitedly pulling Mark and Donghyuck along with him as he heads for the castle steps.

“I think we’ll be walking around for an entire day.” Donghyuck snickers. “It’s huge.”

Jisung grins, a knowing glance in his eyes. “An entire day? Oh, cousin, that’s just the east wing.”

Unsurprisingly, the group of brothers aren’t immediately unleashed to go exploring in the village.

Their tutors have them settle into a couple weeks of lessons before adding unsupervised free time to their schedules for them to do whatever they please with. It’s not a lot at first—only 30 minutes at a time—but Doyoung knows that’s more than enough time for them to get into trouble, if they so wish.

The men were hardly impressed with being treated like reckless children and would take whatever chance they could to escape the tutors’ watchful eyes, which meant staying on their best behavior and trying to adhere to all their professors’ instructions until they were granted more leniency.

By that point, their instructors were almost being driven crazy by the men’s frequent and not-so-subtle side conversations about what they’d see in the village once they finally got there.

“Alright, here is your first free break of the day. Go on, make use of it. I say, I’ve never seen a bunch of royals so infatuated with what the commoners are doing,” their music tutor exclaims, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you much rather stay in here where things are clean and predictable and safe—and most importantly, clean?”

“Hmm, no. Clean’s boring!” Donghyuck counters, and he’s the first one to take off and leave the room once he’s gathered all his things. The rest of the men soon trail out of the room after him, with Doyoung heading up the rear. By their parents’ request, he usually sits in on their lessons to make sure they follow their tutors’ orders, or to help them out with whatever questions they have if the teacher is preoccupied with someone else.

“Are you all going to accompany us?” Donghyuck asks Jeno after the older man catches up to him in the hallway.

Jeno gives him a suspicious look. “Accompany you where?”

Donghyuck lowers his voice to prevent Doyoung from overhearing their conversation. “We’re going to visit the village today, see the lay of the land. There’s no time to waste, so if you want to come…”

Jeno shakes his head, a slightly unimpressed look coloring his features. “You go on ahead. If you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it a thousand times before.”

Donghyuck looks at him skeptically, then claps a hand on his back. “Suit yourself!”

It doesn’t take long for Donghyuck to convince Sicheng, Jungwoo, and Mark to use their free time to go to the village with him, and they decide to take the horses to shorten the time it’ll take to get there. They bypass their rooms and head straight outside for the stable, leaving their books and writing utensils sitting in a heap in a corner to avoid wasting any precious time with putting their things away.

While they’re out in the stable, Donghyuck fawns endlessly over the horses. He’s particularly drawn to an all-black one with a shiny coat and an impossibly long mane. Her expressions are almost elven-like, her eyes showing a certain eerie understanding of the words he speaks to her. A large golden label on her stall reads Lily in black curly lettering.

“She’s amazing,” Donghyuck says, gently stroking her muzzle as she peers at him with her huge black eyes. Mark and Jungwoo come over to take a look at the mare, and Mark agrees to Donghyuck’s observation, grinning softly as he brushes his fingers along Lily’s soft coat. Their moment is suddenly disturbed, however, by a voice coming from the stable entrance. The three of them jump a little in surprise.

“Where are you all going?” It’s Doyoung, of course. Donghyuck scoffs and rolls his eyes, trying to ignore his older brother as he keeps petting the horse.

“We’re going out,” Sicheng says, laughing from the other side of the stable as he leads one of the horses out of its stall.

“Obviously, but where?” Doyoung walks further into the stable with the other boys, though he screws up his face at the strong smell of horse and hay. Much like the others, riding horses is an activity he quite fancies, but he doesn’t enjoy the smell of it.

“Leave us for once, brother, please! If you come with us, it’s just going to spoil the mood. Between the tutors and the King and Queen, we have enough overbearing people breathing down our necks.” Mark shushes Donghyuck at that, as if he half expects the King and Queen themselves to come out from the shadows and reprimand them.

Doyoung crosses his arms. “I have no intentions of stopping you, but I’m also not going to let you return here with a herd of angry townspeople on your tail if you do something to set them off.”

“Yes, which means you’ll stop us from doing anything fun,” Sicheng retorts, nearly pouting. He’s used his sad eyes and natural charm on his older brothers to get his way in many situations in the past, but Doyoung isn’t budging this time.

“Doyoung is going to come regardless, can the rest of you just bear with it so we can leave?” Jungwoo says impatiently, leading one of the other horses out and fixing its saddle on. “We don’t have all day to argue.”

“Fine.” Sicheng and Donghyuck aren’t thrilled about the prospect of having their older brother tag along to thwart any mischievous plans they might’ve had. They don’t truly hate it, though; they rarely miss an opportunity to try to get on his nerves if they can, and now is no exception.

After they’ve all picked a steed, they mount their horses and take off to leave the castle.

On the horses, it takes only 5 or 6 minutes to reach the village rather than the 20 minutes they’d spend walking there. When they get there, they are greeted by a sign that reads Arthenia Village. It shows obvious signs of wear, but it looks to have been recently covered with a fresh coat of green paint.

From the first glance, it’s easy to tell that the small town mostly consists of supernatural beings—though they could figure that from the atmosphere alone. The air is thick with magic, and it dances across their skin like static. Fairies and orcs and the occasional elf like themselves walk, ride, or fly through the streets, plus many more beings beyond those. Even a small portion of humans live there, though they blend in almost seamlessly with the others—except for their lack of a magical aura.

Some townspeople stop to watch the men enter the village as they trot down the cobbled streets on their horses, all dressed up in their fineries. In the men’s own eyes, their outfits are quite average for a day of schooling, but the villagers rarely see such luxury in their daily lives.

The townspeople are not really used to interacting with royalty, due to the castle’s inhabitants mostly keeping to their own circles of nobility—and seeing everyone else as beneath them, even if they don’t immediately concede to it. Some villagers are in awe of their entrance, while others look on with expressions of contempt. Donghyuck doesn’t mind the glares, though, and waves excitedly to anyone who’ll wave back.

“I wonder about you sometimes,” Mark says to the younger man, and he narrowly avoids Donghyuck trying to reach out and swipe him off his horse.

They eventually dismount the horses and tie them up at a nearby stall so they can walk around the Market Square. There’s little danger of anyone trying to make off with one of the animals; their saddles decorated with the royal colors and insignia would immediately incriminate any person who’d attempt it. And in any case, a punishment of being sent to the guillotine is more than enough to keep potential thieves away.

Arthenia may be small, but it’s still filled with a distinct culture and a sense of hominess, with people selling their homemade wares and groups of little kids playing and weaving through the streets. A group of girls gathered at a small jewelry shop whisper animatedly among themselves as they watch the men walk by, and they freeze when Doyoung meets their eyes. He waves to them with a warm smile on his face, just as he was taught to do, and they wave back enthusiastically, their free hands covering their mouths to disguise their giggles.

Jungwoo quickly becomes entangled in a game of Horseshoes with a group of adolescents who bet he can’t beat them at their own game. And, despite Sicheng’s earlier complaints, he ends up trailing behind Doyoung for most of their trip, unsure how to interact with the villagers except for following his etiquette training and simply smiling politely at them. If he were in an “I told you so” kind of mood, Doyoung might’ve pointed out the irony of the situation, but he decides to let it be, knowing Sicheng is still trying to adjust.

At the very edge of the village, a small dirt pathway gives way to the same forest they saw on their way to the castle. The expanse of the forest is easier to see when outside of Arthenia itself; it spreads like a thick patch of dark green against the lighter green fields and hills. Up close and personal, though, the forest entrance is thick with foliage, making it hard to see through. The unknown nature of it beckons. Donghyuck catches Mark’s eyes lingering in that direction, and he comes up next to the older man, throwing his arm across his shoulders.

“Is that our next conquest?” he proposes, mischief written across his face. “Want to see what lies there?”

Mark looks back at him, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’m willing if you are.”

A seller at a nearby stall—an elderly orc—overhears their conversation and shakes his head, chuckling as if he’s just heard something utterly ridiculous. “Young men...don’t go in there with bad intentions. The women will drive you out.”

Donghyuck and Mark turn to him with confusion written on their faces. “Women?”

“There are women who live in the trees,” the seller continues. “They protect the trees, protect the forest. Everything there is under their dominion. Before you step foot in there, make sure you’re thinking with your head up top,” he taps a finger against the side of his head, “and not the one between your legs.”

“U-um, that wasn’t—alright.” Mark is openly flustered at being called out, and Donghyuck only laughs, steering Mark away from the stall and back towards the heart of the village.

“Don’t get so discomfited about it, brother. Desires of the flesh are natural for men.” Donghyuck slaps Mark on the chest, and the other coughs a bit at the sudden hit.

“But do you think he said that just to deter us? Or is it true?”

“I’d say there’s only one way to find out.”

Sicheng turns a corner and nearly runs into them, and they both startle at his sudden appearance. “Whatever you’re so eager to find out, it’s not happening today. It’s time to go back already.” He’s no more happy about it than they are, though, rolling his eyes at the prospect of heading back to the mansion when there’s still much to see.

“Already?” Donghyuck questions Sicheng as he starts heading back to the Market Square where their horses are stationed. Sicheng unfolds his pocketwatch and shows him the time, nodding without a word before continuing on. “Ah, shit. We’ll see the forest next time, then. Don’t forget! We’ve got to make haste.”

“Remember what that old man said, though,” Mark says, calling back to Donghyuck as he follows Sicheng. “We aren’t using up all our break time to find lovers or concubines.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Who do you take me for? No one can find a lover in just 30 minutes, Mark, unless it’s you. Then you’d only need 5 minutes at most.” Then he takes off through the streets as Mark chases after him, threatening to kick his ass once he lays his hands on him.

It’s another week before they can make it out to the village—and therefore, the forest—again, but once the time rolls around, Donghyuck is once again the first out of the castle with Mark on his tail. Jungwoo and Sicheng decide to tag along too, along with Doyoung, which none of them are particularly surprised about.

The villagers’ responses are less awe-struck this time, though some of them still express some surprise at seeing the men come to their little town two weeks in a row. Many of them give friendly waves, though others look on with skepticism as they see the men heading for the woods. They pass by the same elderly orc from last week, who gives them a knowing look; Mark shoots him a nervous smile in return.

Entering the woods on horses requires them to duck their heads a bit to avoid the overhanging foliage threatening to poke them in the eyes or get tangled in their hair. A few of them gripe about this, but they quickly grow captivated with interest as they journey deeper into the terrain and survey the woods.

“This place is nice,” Jungwoo comments. His eyes dart to and fro, though, as if he expects one of the aforementioned women to come out of nowhere and sternly rebuke them for entering their forest abode.

“I can’t wait to see what kind of beautiful women live in this forest,” Donghyuck announces.

“Don’t be so eager, I’m positive none of them would be interested in a kid,” Sicheng scoffs. No sooner do the words leave Sicheng’s lips do a pair of pinecones come falling out of a tall pine tree just a ways above their heads. One only narrowly misses Sicheng, but the other catches Donghyuck on the shoulder.

“Ow! Did you see that?” He grabs his shoulder as if it’s injured and whips his head to look up at the pine’s towering trunk, but there’s no sign of anything other than a few unsuspecting birds.

Doyoung shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say anything else foolish if I were you, brother. Seems like the forest already has something against you.” He laughs to himself, steering his horse away from the others to explore more of the woods.

“It’s not the forest, it’s the women that stall vendor was talking about,” Donghyuck insists, looking over his shoulder for any more falling objects.

“Sure. Next, you will tell us you’re no longer an elf.” Sicheng is less convinced by the presence of the dryads than the other men, but he’s along for the ride anyway. He will at least get to see what all the fuss is about, and even if it’s not true, he’ll have some time away from the castle. Although the King and Queen are as dutifully welcoming as they should be, he can’t shake the feeling of the King’s judgment brewing just underneath the surface. It’s like his aura intentionally closes itself off to the younger man, too haughty and refined to be in the presence of a concubine’s son.

“Let’s just keep on and see what we come across,” Mark says, steering his horse around a fallen log as he traverses further ahead.

Doyoung catches sight of a large oak tree just a little ways off. It doesn’t look much different from the other trees around, save for a hollow hole in its front, but he’s intrigued by it and decides to look more closely. Once he gets over to it, he climbs off his horse and walks up to its large trunk, carefully maneuvering around the thick roots beneath his feet.

Cautiously peeking into the hollow, he sees a nest, but there are no current occupants. He presses one hand against the trunk and feels the grooves and ridges of its texture underneath his palm. It feels old and powerful, and he guesses it must’ve been here for a long time already.

Doyoung hears rustling a few feet above him from the branches, and a few leaves drift down, brushing his face. He expects to see some bird or squirrel when he looks up, maybe the owner of the nest come back to object to his snooping around, but he’s shocked at the sight of a woman.

Doyoung only catches a glimpse of you, for when you notice him looking at you, you gasp and dart further up into the tree’s branches, causing more leaves to fall on the way. Doyoung shields his eyes from them as they come cascading around him, but he fails to get another look. It’s like the tree has enveloped you entirely, hiding you from view.

“That was odd,” he says aloud. So the seller’s words were true after all. He lingers for a while longer, hoping to maybe stay long enough to see you again, but you’ve disappeared. He’s a bit reluctant to leave, but it’s apparent you’re not going to reappear while he’s still around, so he leads his horse away by its reins and looks for the others.

“I saw something,” he says as soon as he spots Donghyuck. “Or someone.”

“Seriously?” Donghyuck’s eyes light up. “What did she look like? Was she pretty? Did you get her name?”

“‘Was she pretty?’ Is that all you can think about?” Doyoung sighs. “I didn’t get anything. I barely saw her. She was among the tree branches one minute and gone the next.” Donghyuck slumps a bit at that, but he’s still determined to see one of the forest’s female inhabitants for himself.

“Hmmm…no matter. There’s many more chances where that came from. We can always return later and see who shows up.”

Their conversation is cut short by a nearby shout from Mark, who’s loudly complaining about his head. Apparently he’s been struck by something much messier than a pinecone—a robin’s egg. “Ugh. What have you fools gotten into?!” Donghyuck calls out, spurring on his horse.

Doyoung mounts his own horse and follows the younger man in search of their brothers. Just before they get out of sight of the oak tree, Doyoung throws a glance backwards, still burning with curiosity. He’s startled to see the same face from earlier staring back at him from the uppermost reaches of the tree, your eyes wide with an inquisitiveness he thinks must mirror his own.

When he blinks, you are gone again.

Even though the other men look at him a bit oddly for it, Doyoung decides to bring a gift the next time they go to the forest.

He doesn’t know much about tree nymphs. He does know, however, that there is a library full of books in the castle; many being history and reference books, no doubt. After visiting the library one day after his brothers’ lessons, he manages to scrape up a little information on tree nymphs—or dryads, as they’re also called—even though he isn’t entirely sure what he’s looking for.

His research tells him the tree nymphs are friends of the gods and goddesses, and history shows that the higher beings have always liked—even demanded for—gifts. So why wouldn’t the women of the forest be the same way? Maybe if he brings a gift, the women will warm up to their presence and realize they aren’t just a bunch of horny travelers. At the very least, maybe they wouldn’t have any more pinecones and eggs thrown at them.

When the brothers get a chance to go to the forest again, Doyoung carries a couple cinnamon scones and a small, bright clementine from their earlier breakfast in his saddlebag. The chef’s scones are the best he’s ever tasted, and he doesn’t think he could ever go back to eating the ones from their cook back home—not that he’d ever say that out loud, though.

Everyone likes food, right? He figures there’s no way to go wrong with this idea, and even if the girl in the oak tree doesn’t like it, maybe one of the other tree nymphs or woodland creatures can eat it.

You aren’t in sight when he stops by the oak tree again. Donghyuck, who’s accompanying Doyoung on his personal quest, watches as he leaves the food in the small tree hollow, keeping it carefully wrapped in its blue and white handkerchief.

“You think she’ll take it?” Donghyuck asks, keeping his voice low. He doesn’t really want you to hear him talking about you if you’re still around somewhere, which could possibly alert you to their presence and scare you off again. But unbeknownst to him, that’s unlikely to happen; dryads always know when someone enters their forest.

“I wouldn’t reject free food,” Doyoung says, laughing quietly. He steps back once he’s finished with his job and looks towards the branches, as if he expects you to appear right then and accept his offering. That won’t likely happen, but he wouldn’t mind seeing what you look like more closely.

“Well, come on then.” Donghyuck waves his hand. “There’s still more to see. We can double back and see if it worked later.”

They hear rustling among the trees as they guide their horses through one of the forest’s many paths, but they don’t see any signs of the dryads. There’s only the occasional forest creature, such as a racoon or squirrel. Mark, Sicheng, and Jungwoo are farther away in another part of the woods, though the two men can hear them talking faintly, their voices carrying on the wind. Sunlight from the midday sun filters through the leaves, turning the landscape into a speckled show of light and shadow.

When Donghyuck and Doyoung get far enough away from the oak tree, they eventually come across a lake that splits the forest in half. It’s not very wide, but if you tried to jump across it you’d almost certainly land in the water instead of on dry land.

There are signs that sprites have recently been near the lake, or quite possibly live within the forest. The ground is littered with half-eaten berries and chewed-on leaves, but that’s not the only clue; that could be the work of any forest animal. Sprites, however, leave a very distinct tinge of magic in places they’ve visited. It’s akin to walking through a spiderweb, or feeling the air change when you go from the hot outdoors to a cold room. Doyoung almost swears he can hear tiny tinkling laughter next to his ear, though it fades away as soon as he turns around.

Donghyuck is more interested in the lake, though, and guides his horse to walk along the edge of the grass where the water begins. “Do you figure we could go swimming in it?” he calls back to Doyoung.

Doyoung scoffs. “Now?”

“Of course not now! Maybe some other day, when we don’t have 20 other things to do.”

“Maybe. The water seems safe enough…” Doyoung peers into the running waters himself, watching a few twigs and stray leaves float past. There aren’t any apparent dangers or concerns, and the water’s shallow enough where you can see the bottom of the lake, but appearances aren’t always as they seem. It’s always essential to be wary in magically-charged places like this forest.

They ride through the woods for a while longer, listening to birds cry out from the trees and sing softer chirps that serve as background music. Despite the forest’s inherent mystery, it’s almost calming at this moment, with the steady hum of wildlife around. It’s like time has been suspended and they’ve been enveloped in a dimension separate from their own, even though they can see familiar signs of life prospering all around them. The contradiction of the forest’s calm and unsettling quality is both strange and wonderful to experience.

By the time their half-hour of exploration starts running out, they circle back to the grand oak tree to see what’s become of Doyoung’s offering. He’s actually a bit surprised to see it gone, handkerchief and all, and he gets off his horse to inspect the tree hollow.

“It worked!” Donghyuck exclaims this a little too loudly and a nearby bird takes off. He flinches reflexively, expecting another pinecone to come hurtling at him from the trees, though none do.

“It did,” Doyoung agrees, pressing his fingers against the wood as he looks into the tree hollow. He’s even more pleased than he expected to be, a small grin playing on his lips. “It did.”

Doyoung leaves more gifts over the next few weeks, which ends up in him actually buying things for your merriment. Many of them are cute and inexpensive little trinkets from the Market Square, like smooth blue moonstones and jagged sharp crystals that the vendors swear have been blessed with witches’ magic, though he often still leaves food.

Even with these regular visits, he’s still yet to catch more than a few glimpses at a time of you. Unbeknownst to him and Donghyuck, these sightings, no matter how sparse they are, are largely due to you throwing them a bone and allowing them to perceive you. At any other time, it would be all too easy to just disappear completely and wait for them to leave after depositing their offerings.

They don’t always see you when they come to the tree, but it happens enough to be worth noting.

Despite this inability to get you to stay, Donghyuck still tries his luck with calling out greetings to your retreating form. These words, no matter how friendly they are, are often swallowed up in the rustling of the leaves.

The same thing happens today. Donghyuck spots your feet peeking out from an uppermost branch, not quite concealed by the leaves, and he rushes out the first thing he can think of to say. “Hey, there—” At the sound of his voice, though, you quickly retreat. “Uh, nice tree-climbing skills? Oh, alright, okay…”

“I don’t think she wants to talk right now,” Doyoung remarks, a smirk on his face as he goes to leave his token for today. This time, it’s another food gift; a pair of peaches and a biscuit with jam.

“That’s fine!” Donghyuck tries not to seem embarrassed about his fruitless greetings. “I’ll just keep greeting her until she does feel like answering. It would be rude not to say hello otherwise! Unlike someone else here. Not very princely of you, huh, brother?”

Donghyuck sticks his tongue out at his brother and spurs his horse to gallop off into the trees, feeling the air whip past his cheeks. In the back of his mind, he himself knows why he keeps calling out to you even if he won’t get an answer, though he doesn’t intend on letting Doyoung know why. Some things are better kept to oneself; he’s had to learn that lesson over time.

He eventually ends up on a small hill in the forest, which is surrounded by tall trees and covered in sparse patches of moss. He hears giggling above him from one of the trees, though when he turns his head to look, there’s nothing there.

Still chagrined from the time he got hit with a pinecone, he keeps his head turned skyward, trying to see if he can spot anything among the tree canopy. However, all he sees is green and more green. He’s about to give up and go about his way when an acorn comes zooming down and hits him square in the forehead.

“Hey!” he shouts, rubbing the sore spot on his head. His exclamation reverberates off the tree trunks and bounces back to him. The echo of it almost overtakes the small set of giggles from just in front of him, but his ear catches them. “Whoever you are, come out!”

Donghyuck’s horse whinnies softly but does nothing else to alert him to where the possible culprit might be hiding, and he sighs heavily. He decides to get off the horse to walk around the area, inspecting it more closely as the wind stirs his hair and tickles his ears. The forest is almost eerily silent the entire time; all Donghyuck can hear is the sound of his own breaths and his boots in the grass.

Suddenly, he yells when a mop of black hair falls on top of his head. The shock of it sends him falling to the ground, dirtying his pants. When he gets enough distance between himself and the strange black hair, he realizes it’s one of the tree nymphs. Not you from the oak tree, though, to his slight disappointment. This one hangs upside down from a thick branch as she looks at him, her eyes playful and bright.

“You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds like windchimes tinkling in the breeze, light and airy. Donghyuck tries to respond, but he finds himself lost for words after finally facing one of the women who have been an enigma this entire time. When she sees he isn’t responding, she says, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Who...where…?” Donghyuck scrambles to his feet, and the girl rights herself on her tree branch, skittering along the length of it to hide partway behind the tree trunk. She doesn’t appear to actually be shy or apprehensive, though. Her grin tells him that this is all part of her game.

“Hmm. Well, when you figure out what you’d like to say, call for me.” The girl disappears completely behind the tree trunk, and Donghyuck darts behind it, expecting to see her still hiding there. However, there’s nothing but air.

“But I don’t know your name?” Donghyuck calls after her, but there’s only his own voice reflected back to him.

“Don’t know whose name?” Mark’s voice makes Donghyuck turn around in surprise, a blush coloring his cheeks. He hadn’t even heard the older man’s horse come trotting up.

“No one,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he walks back to his horse. “You must be hearing things.”

You and three other dryads sit in a circle in a small clearing one night, talking amongst yourselves, eating berries, and gazing at the moon as it shines directly upon your little spot. Cassia lays her head in your lap, her long black hair splaying across your legs. The other two, Peony and Daphne, cuddle close to each other, their legs entangling as they feed each other berries.

You all only come out like this when you’re sure the forest is free of any unwelcome visitors or sudden drop-ins, so you can enjoy each other’s company in peace and talk without prying ears or eyes. And speak of the devil—the subject soon turns to the men who’ve been gallivanting through the forest as of late.

“We can never have any peace,” Cassia says, though her tone is laced with laughter. “If it isn’t one group of thirsty and untouched men, it’s another.”

“That one man always comes around this area, the one with the long hair. Along with the rest of them…all on their horses, making so much noise and chaos,” Peony complains.

“It’s impossible not to notice their presence. I wish they’d just stay wherever they come from; they make far too much noise out here,” Daphne says, shaking her head. “They must scare away every woodland creature within a 20-foot radius.”

You’re quiet and thoughtful as you listen to the other girls’ complaints. Finally, you decide to chime in. “I don’t know. They do seem a bit mannerless at times, but they’re kind of interesting.”

Peony shrugs. “Not surprised you’d say that. The one with the long hair is always looking up your tree and leaving you gifts.”

“She just doesn’t want the stream of admiration to stop,” Cassia giggles.

You sigh. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple, but whatever you say.”

“Everyone in the world likes attention, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Cassia admits, “especially when it’s coming from someone who isn’t half-bad. This batch of men is by far the most attractive we’ve seen in a while.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Peony says, and her and Daphne giggle to themselves like they’re in on a joke only the two of them know.

“He must think he’ll get in your good graces if he gives you enough presents,” Daphne adds in. “What say you?”

You tilt your head and think. “Get in my good graces? That depends on what he wants.”

“What he wants?” Peony separates herself from Daphne and crawls over to you, mischief shining in her eyes. “And what do you think he wants?” Her grin doesn’t diminish as she waits for your answer. Daphne smiles and laughs and licks berry juice off her hands as she observes you both.

You stare at the other girl for a long moment, not wanting to laugh but cracking a grin anyway. “I couldn’t possibly know! Maybe you should ask him—or ask the younger one you all have been obsessed with.”

Cassia stretches her arms upwards toward the night sky, crossing her fingers over each other. “Nope. He’s just fun to tease.”

“Fun enough for you to reveal yourself to him,” you point out.

“Say what you will,” she responds. “But at some point, you will probably have to talk to the man. Think carefully. You want to make a good impression on your not-so-secret admirer, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” you say nonchalantly, though you are already thinking of what you might say to him the next time he comes around.

Daphne looks to Cassia, then at you. “Well, just remember this. I wouldn’t waste too much of my good time with him if I were you. We all know elves don’t like us.” The mood shifts a bit at this, with the three of you giving each other unsettled looks as a familiar thought drifts in the back of your minds. It is not uncommon for elves to demean other species, nor is it rare for them to use this perceived superiority to take what they want from others.

Cassia pulls up a handful of grass and throws it at the other girl. “Must you spoil the mood? We’re just having a bit of fun. Besides, these elves obviously don’t object to us if they keep hanging around here unprovoked.”

“I’m trying to look out for the best interest of a fellow dryad,” Daphne protests. “Elven men are very seductive…everything you want them to be until they’re not. But, by all means, do as you please.”

“Like Cassia said, it’s just fun.” You keep your voice nonchalant, though you are already rising to your feet to walk back to your tree. “And thank you for the concern…although I’m not certain it’s warranted.”

The other girls let you walk back alone, knowing you need a bit of time to yourself to think. You wonder what the man’s motive could truly be, and what it means for you. The elves of Arthenia have historically been easy to get along with as they don’t share the views of many others in their race. The same can’t always be said for elven people outside of this small area, though.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

One day, Doyoung manages to go out to the forest by himself while his brothers are still busy with their studies.

He plans to leave you something again, maybe hoping to see you fully this time, though he’s also content to just be out in nature and enjoy the scenery if that’s not possible. At least that’s what he tells himself. Fortunately for him, Lady Luck takes his side today.

After getting off his horse, he heads straight for your oak tree with his gift in hand. It’s a small piece of dyed glass that he got from the Market Square, shaped like a maple leaf. It appears to change colors when held up to the light, as if it were a real leaf with the sun shining through its cells.

You’re already sitting on one of the upper branches when he comes to the tree. He stops in his tracks, thinking you might run off again if he comes any closer, but you simply sit and look at him, your knees close to your chest. He thinks about what a precarious position that is to take on a tree branch, but you’re obviously used to keeping your balance up there.

There’s a tense silence. Doyoung’s afraid you might leave, but he’s surprised when you stay put as the seconds tick past, wrapping your arms around your knees and watching him. When he becomes a little more confident that you won’t try to escape, he steps closer, albeit slowly. “Hello,” he says, keeping his voice even and quiet. Like he’s speaking to something vulnerable and scared.

After a few beats of silence, you say, “Hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m...Doyoung.”

“Doyoung.” You cock your head, weighing whether you should tell him your name or not, but you eventually do.

“It’s a pretty name,” he says, and he actually means it rather than saying it just to be polite. “Um…” He looks to the glass leaf in his hand, which is cradled in another handkerchief. “I was wondering if I’d ever get to see you in person.”

“I’m always here,” you say.

Doyoung nods and chuckles. “Well...I can’t argue with that.”

“You’re always here, too. With your group of men. Making so much noise that you scare all the creatures in the forest away.”

Doyoung winces. He already knew that they weren’t the quietest mice in the bunch whenever they came to the forest. “I’m...sorry about that. I’ll tell the others to keep it down from now on.”

You nod. “That would be nice. The other girls don’t like the noise.”

“What about you?”

You shrug. “They’re not wrong for being irritated about it.”

“Could this make up for it? At least, for you?” Doyoung pulls away the handkerchief and holds the glass leaf up for you to see. You climb down from your high post to look at it more closely, though you don’t leave the tree entirely; you just balance on one of the lower branches.

“It’s pretty,” you whisper, and Doyoung notices your eyes seem to sparkle a bit more at the sight of the ornament even though your outer demeanor is calm.

“Then I’ll leave it here.” Doyoung tucks it into the small tree hollow where he’s always put the rest of his presents.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, and he is surprised to see a slight smile on your face; the first one he’s ever seen from you. He realizes he’s staring at you a little longer than he should and catches himself.

“Ah, y-you’re welcome.”

You nod but don’t say anything more, and Doyoung knows he ought to speak again soon if he doesn’t want to surrender this small opportunity he’s had to talk to you.

“Are there...many of you here?”

“Dryads?”

“Ah, yes...dryads.”

“There are many, yes,” you answer. “Not every tree has a keeper; some are just empty. But many do. We live in our trees.”

“In?” Doyoung realizes this may be referring to something other than just literally living among the branches, which he didn’t think of until now. You nod.

“Maybe it’s a little different from your elven magic.” You glance at his ears and momentarily think of the conversation you had with the other dryads. “But it’s a type of magic all the same.”

“I see…” Doyoung remembers to file that bit of information away so he can tell Donghyuck, who’s been burning to know. The books in the library only provided so many answers, much to their disappointment, with them not having much recorded information on the tree nymph race. Dryads seemed to be a thing of mystery to many, though he could easily guess why.

“You’re not Eupheme-born,” you say abruptly. “Where do you hail from?”

“The kingdom of Ceres,” Doyoung answers. You nod, and he takes this as recognition. “Have you been there before?

You shake your head. “I can’t leave the forest.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“We’re connected to the trees. They keep us alive, and vice versa. If we’re separated over too far of a distance, both will die.”

“That’s grim,” Doyoung says, his eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t you ever want to leave? Go somewhere else? It can’t be happy to be chained to one place forever.”

You raise your eyebrows and laugh, incredulous at his statement. “Chained? The forest is my home. There’s nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”

Doyoung shrugs. “You have a much stronger constitution than me, then. I don’t know that I’d want to be tied to any one place for my entire life.”

You squint your eyes, staring at him carefully. “You’re royalty, aren’t you?” He nods in response. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You can come to this forest however you please and have fun, but you’ll have to have a family sooner or later...something more permanent to tie you to this world.” You slip down from your branch, letting your feet touch the ground, and Doyoung steps back a little to give you space. “Men like to roam and be free and sow their wild oats. They’re more than welcome to do that, but I’ll stay here among the trees.”

He stares at you in wonder, your words repeating in his head as you gingerly take his gift out of the hollow. You turn back to him momentarily, giving him a quick parting smile and a nod before skipping off into the trees.

“A letter came!” Jungwoo holds up a cream-colored envelope that sports their family’s familiar crest on a wax seal on the back. It’s a letter from their parents—their first correspondence since the men have left the castle.

“What does it say?” Mark and Donghyuck crowd around him to persuade him into opening the envelope faster. Before Jungwoo can read it, Sicheng plucks it out of his hand and holds it up to the light, making a show of squinting at the inky black handwriting. “Well? Go on!” Donghyuck prods him.

“Hmm...” Sicheng purses his lips and crinkles his brows as if concentrating hard, then gives them all a sly smile. “It says you’re all kicked off the inheritance and I’m becoming the next Crown Prince.”

Doyoung shakes his head and takes the letter from Sicheng as the younger man laughs. The other three boys balk at his attempt at a joke, and Doyoung knows the atmosphere could easily turn awkward if he doesn’t step in now. “Anyway. Let’s see what it really says, I’m sure they must be missing our presence…”

They all stand around Doyoung as he reads the letter out to them, trying to look over his shoulder as if he can’t read fast enough to satisfy their curiosity.

“Dear boys, we hope Eupheme has been finding you well.

Affairs in Ceres have been running as normal in your absence, thankfully, and Yuta and Jaehyun have been handling their new duties well. They also send their regards and hope to see you back soon.

“There is also important news for our Doyoungie. We are considering a potential match for you—the Duke of Ceres’ daughter, with whom you should already be familiar—and plan to set a meeting as soon as you return at summer’s end. We think you will find her very agreeable...” Doyoung’s voice falters a bit.

“Aw, is our indecisive brother finally going to become a married man this year?” Jungwoo slings his arm around Doyoung’s shoulders, and the older man lets out a puff of air.

“By the beginning of next year, who wants to bet?” Donghyuck snickers. “Girls naturally love you, it won’t take long for you to charm her. Either way, it’s not like you have very much longer to wait.” Mark elbows him in the side and he complains in turn, but not before cuffing Mark over the head.

“...I suppose.” That comment about being a “ladies’ man” might have drawn a laugh or two or even a boast if it were said months ago, but now Doyoung just feels strangely unsettled about it all—the impending courtship and his inevitable marriage. He continues reading the rest of the letter, though if someone were to ask him later, he wouldn’t be able to remember the rest of the words.

“We think you will find her very agreeable and are thrilled for you to get to know each other better. It is nothing to worry yourself over now, but do keep this in mind.

“Boys—remember to keep following all of your tutors’ instructions, and please refrain from making yourselves bothersome. You all are guests, and the King and Queen of Eupheme are being very honorable by hosting you this summer.

“We all send our best regards.”

That night, Doyoung tries his best to fall asleep but is kept awake by the contents of the letter. It’s hard to tear his mind away from what will happen once he returns to Ceres. Though he’d thought he’d be prepared for this, he feels unexpectedly nervous and averse to the idea of yet again courting someone he barely knows for months—and quite possibly marrying them this time around. He doesn’t know how much longer their parents’ patience in allowing him to take his time with finding a partner will last.

It’s proper. It’s tradition. It’s what’s expected of him and his brothers, and he’s been primed for this duty his entire life. Yet, that knowledge does nothing to quell the uncomfortable sensation—dare he call it dread?—creeping upon him.

He watches the clock on the mantle across his bedroom, just above the fireplace. Its little black hands tick by endlessly, counting down the seconds, minutes, hours. When another hour passes and he’s still staring at the clock, Doyoung peels the covers back and decides to leave the castle for a bit. He already knows of a few tucked-away passages he can slip out of that lead to the outside in some way or another, having bribed Jaemin into telling him where they are in case any of his brothers tries to sneak out. How ironic that he’s now using that knowledge for his own gains.

Although he’s not sure if he’ll need it, Doyoung throws on a cloak for good measure before escaping to the outside. He spends a while walking through the castle’s extensive gardens and making sure he’s staying out of sight of the guards, though he feels no sleepier than he did when he first got there. Exasperated, he’s about to turn around and head back for the indoors when the woods beyond Arthenia pop into his mind.

Should he? He’s already outside; what’s the harm in it? Admittedly, the answer is a lot if he’s caught, but he pushes those thoughts away, as his feet are already turning to lead him away from the castle grounds. Doyoung decides he’ll use his glamor for a bit to disguise his face and elven ears once he gets to Arthenia, though there probably won’t be many people awake at this time of night.

Without a horse, the walk to the forest is long. Doyoung doesn’t create any of his light orbs until he’s sure he’s far enough away from the castle to not be spotted by any of the night watch guards. When he thinks it’s safe, he conjures a small ball of burning blue light in his palm, which is enough to illuminate his footsteps.

Doyoung’s boots are wet from the damp grass by the time he reaches the Market Square, and he passes by the rows of houses and outbuildings without a sound. Some lights are still on in some homes, glowing a warm yellow in the dim light of the half moon, while others are pitch black and fade into the surrounding darkness.

The forest looks even more intimidating at night, even with the limited light. He hesitates at the forest entrance for a minute, wondering if it’s safe to go inside. He’s yet to see anything truly dangerous during the daylight hours, but things can be different at night. He didn’t think to possibly bring his bow and arrow from their archery lessons, and there will be no easy escape on horse if something menacing crosses his path. Shaking his head and sighing, he enters anyway and prays to whatever goddess will listen for the best. He’s already walked this far.

Doyoung convinces himself that he’s just going to walk around for a bit, maybe sit at the lake for a while, but after turning in a wide, looping circle, his feet eventually end up leading him to the oak tree. You are already sitting on a low branch when he arrives, as if waiting for his appearance. He notices you’re wearing the moonstone he once left in the tree hollow; somehow it’s been fashioned into a necklace, and he wonders where you got the tools to do that. One of your legs trails off the tree branch you’re perched on, swinging leisurely in the cool night air, and he tries not to stare.

“Y/N,” slips from his lips. “You’re awake at this hour?”

You smirk. “So are you.” Doyoung moves the cloak’s hood away from his face with this free hand, and you study the glowing orb in his other hand. “You’re a Light User...that’s interesting.”

“I guess it could make for a fun trick at a ball,” he says, and tosses the glowing orb up into the air. He does this a few times until he throws it up one last time and it hovers in the air, as if stuck by an invisible force. Doyoung manipulates the orb with his fingers in a way that causes it to split up into a dozen more bright glowing spheres, all suspended in the air. By now, the entire area around the oak tree is lit up from the light emanating from these numerous orbs.

You laugh softly at this display, reaching out to touch the orb nearest to you and discovering that, despite your hand passing through it, the air still feels oddly warm in the spot where the light glows. “Very pretty. It’s peculiar to see you at this hour, though. Are you even allowed to be out this late?” you ask, your eyes still lingering on the orb.

“No, but…” Doyoung trails off, unsure if he wants to revive that concern. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You finally look back at him, and your face creases slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says, and he doesn’t know, really. Getting married was always a part of the plan, as royalty. So why is he doubting it now? Maybe he knows more about why he’s feeling this way than he’ll admit to, but there are things he’s still not even sure of himself at the moment.

You decide not to press the matter for now, especially after seeing his conflicted face. “You don’t have your horse. Was it a long walk?”

He nods and laughs a little, thinking maybe it was a bit ridiculous to walk all the way here in the middle of the night. He still has to walk all the way back, which isn’t an appealing thought. “Nothing like a bit of exercise to tire you out, I guess. Hopefully I’ll sleep better after.”

“You sound like a troubled sleeper. I eat jasmine petals if I have trouble sleeping. You know, there’s a bush of them around here.” It’s an offer for him to partake, if he wants to.

“My mom likes jasmine tea,” Doyoung says, grinning slightly. “Do you often have trouble falling asleep? I would think it would be easier being surrounded by nature like this.”

You slide off the lower branch and land on the grass with a soft thump. “Not always…but I’d rather have an easy remedy than be left without one when I needed it.” Then you move to follow a dirt path leading away from the tree, but not before turning back to look at Doyoung. “Come on, then. I’ll show you the bush.”

Once again, he hesitates like he did just before entering the forest. “Is...it safe?”

You squint at him. “Safe?”

“I mean…there must be other creatures in this forest besides the agreeable woodland variety.”

“Yes…but they mostly live on the far outskirts. And either way, none of the other inhabitants will hurt a dryad. We’re the forest’s keepers. So you’ll be safe if you’re with me.”

Doyoung decides to take your word for it and follows you along the path, his blue orbs trailing after him. He sends some further ahead to light the narrow path so you both can see better, though you already know where the bush is by heart.

Soon, you’re both standing in front of the aforementioned bush, which is laden with white jasmine blooms. They seem to shine unnaturally brightly under the illumination of the blue orbs.

“Take some,” you say, carefully plucking one of the flowers from the bush. You hold it up to his nose so he can smell it, and he does so. The scent envelops him like a warm hug, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it’s already making him feel better. When you hold the flower out to him, he takes it gingerly. He doesn’t fail to notice the soft blossom’s texture, or the equal softness of your hand.

“Will your friends be okay with this?” Doyoung asks tentatively, holding the flower in his hand with a certain fragility.

“They will. And if they aren't, it can be our secret.” There are no secrets in this forest, really, but you humor him anyway, wanting to do something nice in return for the gifts he’s given you.

Doyoung nods and takes a couple more of the flowers, their leaves included, for the tea. He tucks them safely in the pocket of his pants.

You smile at him once he’s taken what he wants. “You’re quite gentle,” you remark. Doyoung doesn’t expect to hear that from you, and he looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

“You just appear to be very...cognizant. Many people who’ve come to the forest before don’t give any thought to disturbing the natural balance of things and taking what they want. Not the villagers, but others.”

“I see,” Doyoung nods, feeling his face grow warm. He’s never had that particular attribute associated with him before. Gentle. Men are meant to be strong and brave and fearless; gentleness is for the fairer sex. He doesn’t dislike it, though. Quite the opposite, in fact.

You nod in return. “Well, it’s getting a bit late...later than it already is, anyway. I don’t know how things at your castle work, but you may want to be getting back before someone notices you’re gone. The sun will be rising soon enough.”

Doyoung smiles slightly. “You’re quite right.”

“Would you like me to walk back with you? To keep you safe, you know.” You giggle at this. “I will only go as far as the edge of the forest. But you should be alright beyond that point.”

“That’s fine with me.” Doyoung can’t help but feel a little embarrassed about being on the receiving end of such niceties, thinking that this is the kind of thing he’d be doing for you in any other context. He’s not going to pass up the offer of safety, though—and the opportunity to spend a few more minutes in your company.

You talk in low voices on the way back towards the forest’s opening. Mostly about things in the forest, though Doyoung does mention his brothers once or twice. Secretly, you think it’s a bit endearing how much he cares about them even if they get on his nerves.

“We’re here,” you say once you’re in view of the village again.

“Thank you for walking with me. And thank you for the jasmine.” Doyoung pats his pocket.

You grin and wave. “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”

Doyoung starts walking off but suddenly turns back to you as if there’s something more he wants to say. You raise your eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak, but after a second, he only smiles—if a bit nervously—and returns your wave.

You shuffle back into the underbrush a bit, though you stay there and watch him walk away until he’s just a speck amongst the backdrop of the village.

Doyoung makes it back home undetected and climbs back into bed feeling tired enough to sleep now, though he also attributes some of his sleepiness to the pleasant smell of jasmine still clinging to him.

When he slumbers, he dreams of a soft hand touching his, ripe with the scent of jasmine flowers.

The days get progressively hotter as the summer months settle in. With their tutors’ increasing lenience thanks to them taking well to their educational and etiquette lessons, the men get more time to themselves to do whatever they wish. The heat encourages them to spend more time outdoors, whether it’s running through the castle’s expansive yards, shooting arrows at targets or some poor stuffed mannequins, or heading to the village—and subsequently, the forest.

One hot day when they have little responsibilities to tend to, Jungwoo comes up with the brilliant idea to head to the lake for a couple hours, perhaps to cool down from the heat by wading in the water for a while. Sicheng, who has grown a bit disenchanted with the forest, decides to spend the day with their three cousins instead.

However, when the men get within shouting distance of the lake, they realize it’s already occupied.

“Wait!” Mark hisses, pulling on the reins of his horse to make it stop. He holds a finger to his lips, and before any of the men can question him, the sound of shouting, laughter, and water splashing drifts to them on the wind. It appears they aren’t the only ones who’ve had the idea of visiting the lake today.

“Oh?” Donghyuck’s eyes widen, and he and Jungwoo waste no time with getting off their own steeds to head for the riverbank.

“Wait, where the hell are you leaving off to?” Doyoung whisper-shouts, but the two pay him no mind as they creep over to a cluster of bushes near the edge of the lake. The shrubs are big enough to conceal them while still providing a few gaps to peek through, and from their new post they spot the dryads farther down the length of the lake, standing in a shallow portion. The women aren’t near enough to spot the men hiding in the bush, but they are still close enough to see clearly from this distance.

“W-what do you see?” Mark asks, his body poised as if he wants to get off his horse and join them too, but he’s still unsure.

“You’ve got to see it for yourself,” Donghyuck snickers, waving the older man over.

Mark looks to Doyoung. Doyoung gives him an incredulous look, and Mark shoots an apologetic one back before dismounting his horse and going over to join his brothers, squeezing in-between them as they crouch on the ground. He sees a group of six dryads playing in the lake, splashing each other with the water. Two more sit on the bank observing the festivities and talking about something they’re holding in their hands, though Mark can’t quite make out what the small objects are.

Donghyuck has only barely seen you during the times he’s gone with Doyoung to deliver your gifts, though he instantly recognizes you as one of the girls standing in the lake. His breath catches a bit as he watches you with water glistening off your skin and your dress clinging to your body.

“Isn’t this a little distasteful?” Mark mutters, his big eyes darting nervously between his brothers. He shifts uncomfortably, looking like he’s ready to make a run for it if need be. “I mean, watching them through the bushes like this…”

“Probably,” Jungwoo replies. “But as long as they don’t notice us…”

Mark almost shouts at feeling a hand come down on his shoulder, and Donghyuck whips his head around when the same happens to him; however, it’s only Doyoung. “You all need to get up right now,” he hisses lowly. “Haven’t you learned anything over the past few months? This is inappropriate—”

“Why are you standing?! Get down before they—”

Before any of them can realize what’s happening, what must be a gallon of lake water splashes down on all four of their heads. Screams of shock ring through the forest, along with a loud round of laughter—coming from both above them and further down the lake.

Mark, Jungwoo, and Donghyuck get to their feet in a rush, looking and feeling very much embarrassed. They look up toward the treetops and see two dryads sitting in the cleft of some of the sturdier branches, openly giggling at them. Jungwoo notices they aren’t holding buckets or any other objects that could’ve explained how they got the water up there in the first place—just a net woven with leaves, which he is certain they couldn’t have been transporting the water in. And yet… “How did you...?”

The women aren’t interested in answering his question, though, and instead disappear into the branches, leaving nothing but a few stray leaves fallen to the ground.

“I think we probably deserved that,” Mark says, sighing and trying to shake some of the water out of his clothes. The rest of the dryads who are still in the water follow the lead of the other two girls, running out of the lake and scattering through the forest, the echoes of their laughter the only evidence that they were ever there. The only ones who stay are you and the two other tree nymphs sitting on the riverbank. Now that everyone is in full view of each other, Mark belatedly realizes that the “objects” the two girls were holding and cooing over are not objects at all, but small sprites.

You step a little closer to the group of men, and the other two girls watch them intently. “If you wanted to play with us, you could just say so. It would benefit you not to be a bunch of cads about it.” You roll your eyes, though you are somewhat amused by seeing them standing there looking soaked and embarrassed.

“O-of course! I tried to tell them, but you know how it is with these kids...we were just leaving, actually.” Doyoung grips Donghyuck and Jungwoo’s collars like he’s about to drag them off like two misbehaving children, and Donghyuck’s face flushes at being treated like a kid in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” you ask, and Doyoung raises his eyebrows at your question. You lower your hand into the lake water as if you’re only checking its temperature or letting it flow through your fingers—which is why they’re taken off guard when you draw your hand back and send a big splash of water flying in their direction.

Donghyuck is the first to react, pulling away from Doyoung’s grasp and rushing into the water to splash you back. It’s not long before things quickly evolve into another splash battle, with the other boys wading into the lake to join. The other two girls give skeptical glances at first, but they eventually bid goodbye to their sprite friends and jump into the lake, too.

You all spend what feels like hours running through the water and splashing each other, and your two friends take more quickly to the men than you expected. When the hour for them to leave comes rolling around, you are all soaked but smiling.

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” Mark says, looking down at their wet clothes. Still, there’s no concealing the bright and amused smile coloring his features.

Your two friends wave to the men and quickly slip off back to their trees, though you linger for a while longer as you watch them climb out of the lake and try to wring out their clothes. Doyoung’s the last one left standing in the water with you, and you turn to him.

“Did the flowers help?” you ask.

“The flow—? Oh, the flowers! They worked just as intended, thank you…” Doyoung blushes a little at the memory. As the others head for their horses, Donghyuck hangs back a little to hear the conversation, wanting to be nosy and wondering what flowers you’re referring to.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you reply, smiling and feeling a little proud that your remedy worked—even though you knew it would. “You know, if you ever need anything else, you can just ask…there are a lot of resourceful things here. It’s like living in an apothecary.”

“Well, I’m interested if he isn’t!” Haechan interjects.

You smirk lightly at him while Doyoung shoots him an irritated look. “Sure. I suppose you’ve taken interest in the forest itself and are no longer just looking for a pretty woman to mess around with?”

Donghyuck flushes at your words, and his smile falters a little at being called out on his earlier intentions. Beside him, Doyoung gloats internally, and he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. “Um…sorry about that.”

“It’s nothing new,” you say matter-of-factly. Then you turn to Doyoung. “Anyways…don’t forget what I said. I’ve gotten used to seeing you around here, so...don’t be a stranger.” You go to leave then, but not before turning back around once more. “And don’t go snooping around. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

Donghyuck only nods, too embarrassed to respond and unable to justify himself. Both men watch as you walk away, likely back towards your tree. Doyoung turns to the younger man. “Come on, then. Let’s be heading back; maybe our clothes will dry out on the way there.”

After the lake incident, Donghyuck insists on using all his lesson breaks for the next couple of weeks to go with Doyoung whenever he travels to the forest to see you. Donghyuck becomes even more invested in this after knowing that Doyoung had already met you face-to-face after going to the forest by himself. The older man acquiesces, though deep down he’d like to spend more time with you alone—especially with managing to make these visits only once or twice a week. Still, seeing you with his little brother clinging to his side is better than not seeing you at all.

Donghyuck is talkative and lively and inquisitive in your presence, much more willing to learn new things from you than from even the highest-rated tutors in Eupheme. Doyoung finds that particularly ironic, though he doesn’t remark on it. Instead, he listens intently along with Donghyuck as you tell him about the many different kinds of plants within the forest, including what purposes they serve. Doyoung is always reminded of the night you gave him those jasmine flowers, and even now, he stares at your hands as you point out different leaves and subtly wishes he could have any excuse to touch them again.

“These berries are safe to eat, though they look very similar to poisonous Pokeweed berries. That’s why you want to be sure you can tell the difference between them…” You place a few in your palm and hold them out for Donghyuck to see.

Donghyuck—who looks at you like you know everything in the world. You know many things, but not everything; but you’ll continue to let him look at you so admirably, because you find it endearing. He somewhat makes you think of what it might be like to have a younger brother or an amiable male friend. Someone to offer you a different perspective of the world external from the community of women you’ve always lived in.

Could Doyoung be that male friend or curious brother, too? Maybe, but maybe not.

Whenever you turn and speak to Doyoung to keep him included in the conversation, you don’t get that companionable feeling. There’s something much warmer there, something that makes you smile a little wider and causes more interesting facts to pop into your head. You enjoy telling him more about the forest, your home, and you somehow feel like you’d tell him anything he wants to know whenever he looks at you.

You like to see his smile, and the way his eyes grow smaller as he laughs or grins at something you’ve said. You haven’t felt this in a very long time, but if there’s anything to compare it to, it’d be eating warm honey straight from the honeycomb, or breathing in a lungful of jasmine scent before drifting off to sleep.

You don’t dwell on it for too long, simply wanting to experience the emotions as they are rather than spend too much time worrying over what they mean. Nevertheless…your idea of Doyoung is quite different from a friend or brother, indeed.

Although it is a Saturday when Doyoung comes to visit you, the sky is a dark and restless contrast to the day’s liveliness, the clouds looking heavy enough to drag down to Earth. He knows it’ll likely rain soon, which means he should probably stay in the castle and keep dry, but he ventures out to see you anyway. Today is the first time in a while he’s been able to see you without Donghyuck by his side, so he’s taking the opportunity.

You’re not in your tree when he comes. He thinks maybe he might go and look for you, but you’ll know where he is faster than he could find you. It takes a few minutes, but as expected, you appear from the further reaches of the woodland, laughing to yourself and holding a ring of flowers. There’s a similar one on your head made up of purple and white blooms. Doyoung thinks you look something like an angel against the sky’s gloom, with a halo made of blossoms instead of light.

“You’re here now? It’s about to rain,” you say, though your tone shows you’re clearly happy to see him.

He shrugs. “I felt like getting some air...I’m not concerned with a little water, as you probably already know.” I wanted to see you, is what he’d really like to say, but he doesn’t want to jump the gun. You nod in understanding, then hold up the ring of flowers in your hand; it has a few blue ones reminiscent of Doyoung’s light orbs. You offer the flower crown up to him, and he bends so you can place it on his head.

“Now you look like a true prince,” you say, smiling in satisfaction at your masterpiece. “I’ve never seen you with a crown until now. That’s a shame.”

“It is a shame.” Doyoung brings a hand up to feel the petals of one of the flowers between his fingers, and he grins. “I’m quite handsome in one.”

“Oh, my prince!” You start prancing around Doyoung and his horse like a fairy, or maybe like a young maiden at a fancy ball, brushing your hand along the animal’s shiny coat as you do. “It’s such an honor for you to grace our forest with your elegant visage.” You finally stop in front of him with a curtsy, though you have to take a moment to readjust your flower crown when it almost flies off at the sudden stop. “What can I have the pleasure of doing for you today?”

Though he laughs at your acting, he’s also a little awestruck for a moment, taken away by your cuteness and humor. Doyoung realizes there’s an awkward silence settling between you as he’s yet to say anything, and he finally stutters out, “There was something I...w-wanted to tell you.”

“What is it?” You come out of your curtsy and stand straight in front of him, all ears open for whatever he’s about to say.

“Well, it’s…” It’s a lot scarier to say what you want when you’re standing in front of someone and not just practicing in front of the vanity mirror. Doyoung is still piecing the words together when a few drops of rain hit his cheek. He doesn’t think much of it at first, but the droplets become impossible to ignore when they suddenly come hammering down without pretense, as if the gods have given word for the heavens’ floodgates to open.

“Come on!” You start running and Doyoung has no choice but to follow, tugging his horse along with him. It doesn’t take long for you to lead him to a small cave he’s never seen before. To his defense, that’s likely because the opening of it is partially obscured by hanging vines and other vegetation. It’s tall enough for someone of Doyoung’s height to stand in comfortably, which he’s relieved by. He doesn’t consider himself to be one of the more uptight royals like many others he knows, but he also wouldn’t be thrilled by the idea of sitting down in a cold, dirty cave in the rain. Even with your haste, though, you’re both quite wet by now.

Though the cave is spacious enough for you two, it becomes apparent that both of you and the horse won’t fit. Instead, Doyoung guides the animal to take shelter nearby under a willow tree with overhanging branches.

The cave is not very deep at all, only extending a few feet backwards. Perhaps that’s reassuring, at least for Doyoung, because there won’t be any disgruntled animals popping out to protest against their space being invaded.

“Well, that was interesting.” You chuckle as you squeeze water out of the hem of your dress.

“Suppose I can’t say I didn’t see it coming.” Doyoung does the same for the ends of his hair, though he knows it will be a while before it gets acceptably dry.

You laugh and nod. “You said you wanted to tell me something. What was it?” you ask.

Doyoung pauses and looks at you carefully, with rainwater dripping off his chin and darkening his clothes. He looks very serious, which is something you haven’t really seen before. It makes concern rise in your stomach, thinking maybe he has some bad news to deliver.

However, you’ve mistaken the intensity in his eyes for somberness when it’s something else entirely.

“I...love you.”

You regard him with wide eyes, feeling a little taken aback. The rain pours noisily in the background, but you’ve heard him loud and clear.

“I know we have only known each other for a few months,” he continues, “but I love you. I want to be with you.”

You’re surprised that he feels this strongly about you already, but it’s also true that you’ve felt yourself falling for him in the past few months, with his thoughtful gifts and kind smile and soft voice. You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, lips parting minutely. He catches the small movement of your mouth, like he notices everything about you—whether you acknowledged it before or not.

Doyoung takes your hand. Though his palm is wet from the rain, you don’t care about that. “I think about you when I’m not here in the forest…and when I’m overseeing my brothers’ lessons. I dream about you when I sleep at night. Every time I get another gift for you, it’s because I want to see you smile so brightly like that again, because of me. I never want to know a day without you.”

You know Eupheme isn’t his home, that he has to leave someday. You know elves don't generally think kindly of dryads, viewing you all as frivolous and foolish and loose; and even if him and his brothers don’t, there’s no telling what the rest of his family thinks. You also know that even without those two things standing in the way, he’s still a prince who’ll need to be married to a suitable bride at some point. All of those things make you nervous. There are many obstacles before you, but you allow yourself to forget them momentarily as you stand in this cave with him.

You bring Doyoung’s hand up to your lips and kiss his knuckles softly, taking what warmth you can despite his cool skin. You hold his hand tightly, like it might be taken away from you otherwise. “Doyoung…you have charmed me unlike anyone else.”

You bring that hand closer and place it over your racing heart, and he seems a bit hesitant at first because of the proximity to your breast, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he readily responds to the kiss you give him afterwards, drinking in your warmth as a balm for the sudden cool air. For a while, there’s only the sound of rain coming down and your lips connecting with each other’s.

You don’t know how long you kiss each other, but there’s nothing else you can do in this small cave, so you continue without thought to the outside circumstances. Even after your lips part, you huddle close together. You close your eyes in Doyoung’s embrace, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and breathing underneath your ears and basking in the fullness of your own heart.

When the rain finally stops, Doyoung has to leave. The sun will be setting soon; the downpour went on longer than either of you anticipated.

“I promise I’ll come back soon,” he says, clinging to your hand with both of his.

“You always do.” You already trust him more than you can say.

Doyoung nods to your words, smiling somewhat bashfully. He steps out of the cave and lets your hand slip from his. But before he can get more than a few feet away, he turns around and comes back to kiss you once more on the lips, his fingertips on your face like he can’t believe you’re real.

You laugh once you separate from each other. “The sun’s getting low, and the others will question you. Go on now.”

Doyoung keeps to his word and makes his way out after fetching his horse, but he keeps glancing back to you until he’s completely disappeared among the brush.

You feel like your mind has been filled with soft moss, all airy and soft and tangled together with unending thoughts. You walk back to your tree feeling as if you could float there instead, enjoying the damp grass under your feet.

The time slips by blissfully.

Doyoung keeps coming out to see you during his free time each week, as he has done since he’s been in Eupheme, though sometimes he’s able to manage more than just one or two visits. On those weeks when he comes out more often, whether it be at night or during the day, you hold him especially tightly, enjoying the extra time with him and wanting to live inside of it—to freeze a moment in time and keep it close to your chest for as long as possible.

“I wish you could see the castle,” Doyoung says this low and close to your ear like he’s telling you a secret. He lies on his side beside you in the grass, playing with your fingers. A gap in the treetops lets a lopsided circle of sunlight shine down on your faces, warming you both from the inside out. “Walk through the maze of land...or see the stable.”

You hum softly. “Hmm...I’m sure it’s nice.” Doyoung laughs, knowing you’re not interested in any place else other than your forest; you can’t hide the neutral note in your tone, though he knows it isn’t towards him.

“Or I could live out here with you.” He strokes the pad of his thumb along the length of your ring finger, and you don’t fail to notice this.

You turn to him, full on grinning now. “I thought you said you’d never want to be tied to one place. Remember?”

Doyoung grins sheepishly along with you. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Mmm, how indecisive you are…if you stay with me here, you can’t ever leave.” You pluck a tiny blue flower from the ground and brush it against his lips, tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow with it. “Make your choice wisely.”

Doyoung purses his lips against the small flower, as if giving it a kiss, and does the same with your fingers as they ghost across his mouth. “I’ve chosen already, princess.”

You lean in to kiss him, and he meets you halfway. The little blue flower slips from your hand. You don’t know if there could ever be a more perfect moment, kissing him like this with the warmth of the sun on your back and your ears full of the sounds of birds chirping and insects purring—and, in the very distance, the lake water running.

You don’t get to bask in the moment for too long, though, before something is interrupting you; and it’s not one of the other women like you might’ve expected.

There’s a rustling and a crash in the bushes, and you whip your head towards the noise, but it’s only a deer—or maybe some other creature—running off. You catch a few glimpses of its brown coat before it becomes obscured by the leaves. You still keep your gaze turned towards the bushes. Though there is nothing else there, you still get the odd sensation of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung whispers, his index finger touching your cheek. He glances at the source of the noise, but his eyes stay mostly focused on you.

“I know it’s odd, but…have you ever felt like you were being watched? Even though nothing’s there?” you ask slowly. “I’ve…sort of felt like this a few other times when we were together.”

Doyoung looks suspicious for a moment, though he eventually shakes his head. “No, I...not really.” He sits up to look at the same space you’re staring at, but he doesn’t see anything more than you do. “If someone else were out here besides the other dryads and the animals, wouldn’t you already know?”

“I suppose that is true,” you say, though you still look towards the bush, trying to see if there’s something you’re somehow not spotting. The sense that you have a pair of eyes at your back still doesn’t go away, even when Doyoung finally pulls you away from the spot to walk further into the woods.

In the middle of August, the Archduke of Eupheme holds a ball. He has been renown for his exorbitant parties for many years, and although he couches this party in the excuse of making the Crown Prince and his brothers feel a bit more at home in the kingdom, everyone knows it’s really just a reason to get drunk and have some fun. No one would dare complain, though; after all, who’d pass up the chance to attend? To rub elbows with handsome men and women and forget more pressing worries for a while?

The King and Queen of Eupheme see it as a good way for the young men to show off their newly acquired social etiquette they’ve been sharpening during their lessons—and possibly mingle with noble women. Similarly, none of the brothers will object to the latter idea. Except for maybe Doyoung.

“Cheer up! I’ve never seen you look so unsettled when going to a party,” Jungwoo says, pinching Doyoung’s cheek. They’re all loaded into their separate stagecoaches, with Jungwoo, Doyoung, Jaemin, and Mark in one and the other boys inside another behind them.

“I’m fine,” Doyoung insists, waving away the concern and plastering a hesitant smile on his face. He can already guess what’s in store for tonight.

The ride to the Archduke’s place is shorter than Doyoung expected. It’s been a long time since they last visited the Archduke’s mansion, and he swears he remembers the journey being longer than this. He sucks in a deep breath as he steps out of the stagecoach. The mansion looms large up ahead, obviously not quite as big as the King and Queen’s castle, but extravagant enough to be of note. Its stone interior glows with rows of brightly burning torches decorating either side of its grand entryway.

The Archduke’s large ballroom is filled to the brim with high-ranking officials and other nobility, with everyone mingling together in a big glittering clump of bodies and puffy dresses and long hair. There’s no other race but elves there, which is usually expected at royal balls like these; other species are often relegated to roles of servant, cleaner, waiter, and so on.

There’s a notable stir when the King and Queen and the eight men enter, and the room parts down the middle to make room for them.

The men wave and smile and mingle like they’ve been taught to, though some revel in it a bit more than others. They’re quickly embraced by the crowd, and the Archduke and Archduchess come to greet them. A young woman walks slightly behind them, her brown hair pinned up in an elaborate updo, wisps of hair clinging around her elven ears. Doyoung remembers her as their daughter and only child, who was never allowed to play in the yard with them as children because “such rowdy behavior wasn’t fitting for a lady of her sensibilities,” as her mother used to say.

“I’m sure you all remember Eunomia,” the Archduke says, encouraging the young woman to come to the front. The brothers all nod in acknowledgement, answering her curtsy with their own bows.

“You’ve grown even prettier since we were young,” Jungwoo says, smiling politely. The girl smiles timidly back to him.

“Thank you. You’ve become quite handsome yourself.”

“We’re so glad that we could be graced with the presence of the Crown Prince of Ceres tonight,” the Archduke continues. “We’ve all been looking forward to your appearance since we got word of your family visiting Eupheme. The timing, especially, is quite extraordinary, as we’ve been vetting possible suitors for our Eunomia.” It’s everything just short of an actual proposition to marry his daughter, and Doyoung’s lips twitch as a thousand different thoughts flit through his mind.

Doyoung bows his head slightly in acknowledgement of their statement and schools his expression into something neutral and amiable. “Extraordinary timing, indeed.”

It’s not long before the music is rising to a grand swell again. The other boys part ways to search for dance partners in the crowd, and Doyoung already knows what’s expected of him. He holds his hand out to Eunomia. “Would you like to dance?”

She nods and takes his hand. Doyoung leads her onto the main dancefloor beside a few other individuals who have already coupled up. A relatively fast tune carries their feet across the floor like the wind.

Eunomia is pretty, nice, and quiet. She’s too shy to meet Doyoung’s eyes directly—no doubt as a result of her parents’ training—and she lets him lead the conversation the same way he leads their dance. She would make the perfect wife to any other man but him.

Doyoung might have been more willing to pursue something with her if this gathering had happened a year before or even a few months ago, before their visit to Eupheme. Now, he only feels uninterested at best—and burdened at worst—about it all. He’s uncomfortable with the way her hand sweats in his palm, and with how fragile she feels in his hold. His mind keeps drifting back to the forest, though he tries to be present in the here and now.

The next few dances go similarly. Though his brothers and cousins seem to be enjoying themselves with the number of pretty women they have at their behest, Doyoung doesn’t feel the same. He ends up approached by various noblemen throughout the night, all holding some prestigious rank or another and seeking to introduce him to their daughters and insinuate a dance. And of course, being the gentleman and prince he is, how can he say no?

Each of the women is unique in their own way, but still not quite enough to hold his attention for long. He’s already made his mind up about who he wants, though you can’t be with him here now—or anywhere but the forest, really. This knowledge is equal parts comforting and disagreeable. He finally has an answer to the question about whether he’d ever find someone to love, though it turns out he cannot even be with you in an easy, convenient way.

By the time the night ends and the royals are on their way back to the castle, Doyoung is rather tightly wound. His mind swarms with thoughts of everything that occurred earlier in the evening and how annoyed and restless it all made him. Increasingly, he’s beginning to feel like he’s up against a wall that he just can’t surmount. He almost yearns for the days when he unquestioningly accepted his duty and actually received some enjoyment from his courtships, but he’d never truly want to go back. Not if it meant not knowing you.

“Are you okay? You seem upset,” Mark says hesitantly, noticing Doyoung’s tensed jaw as he keeps his face turned towards the window, looking out at the nightscape. Doyoung only gives his brother a quick glance before nodding curtly.

“I’m quite alright.” It’s a lie, but Doyoung doesn’t feel like trying to explain his mood at the moment. Though it’s easy enough for them to guess why Doyoung’s visits to the forest have been so much more frequent over the past month or so—and subsequently, why his mood is so sour now—it remains an open secret.

Jaemin settles back in his cushioned seat, grinning slightly to himself before looking up at Doyoung. “Your name must be on many a lady’s dance card tonight, Doyoung. I suspect every woman at the party had a turn, if not the Archduchess herself.” Mark elbows him in the side, but the younger man doesn’t think anything of it.

“I suppose so.” Doyoung rubs his finger over his lower lip. “But maybe you should be more concerned that the competition is diminishing your chances.” Mark and Jungwoo chuckle at that.

“Not to worry. When the time comes, the only choice they’ll have is me.” The younger two laugh even more enthusiastically, and Doyoung only shakes his head, grinning slightly despite himself.

Once everyone is settled in for the night, Doyoung waits in his bed for an hour to be safe and then decides to sneak out to see you. Once again, he doesn’t bother with visiting the stable to take the horse, nor does he try to make himself look “presentable,” tired of being princely for the night. The only thing he does is pull on his pants and shoes and button up his shirt halfway before losing his patience and yanking his cloak on.

He uses his glamor to momentarily disguise himself as he passes through Arthenia, though the few stragglers outside don’t pay him much mind.

“Y/N?” Doyoung calls out your name, slipping his cloak to the ground once he gets to your familiar oak tree. He soon hears and sees the fluttering of tree leaves as you descend from the canopy and touch the ground, alighting from the branches as gracefully as if you’ve been doing it your entire life—which you have.

“My, sir. Here at this hour again? What could b—” You don’t get to finish your sentence before Doyoung is gathering you up in his arms and kissing you hard, his forearms wrapped tight around your waist. He picks you up off the ground and you let yourself be lifted, toes barely grazing the grass.

It’s a long moment before you can regain your breath. You look at him incredulously as he sets you back on the grass, pressing his forehead to yours.

“What...what’s got you in such a state?”

“Love,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to your lips. You laugh at that, holding his flushed face in your hands.

“It’s a pleasant thing, isn’t it? But really, what is it? You seem tense.”

“I am tense,” Doyoung says, though he keeps his lips close to yours. He’s not really in the mood to go into detail about the evening and disturb what’s currently unfolding between you. “It’s just...royal niceties. They can become quite tiring.”

“That’s a pity,” you reply, though you pause in your next thought when his lips find your jawline and press against it firmly. This is the most intimate contact you’ve had since you met, or since he confessed to you, and it ignites a burning flame in your chest. “Maybe there is something that can help you with that.”

Doyoung pulls back to look you in the eyes, wondering if you’re insinuating exactly what he thinks. You step away from him and tug on his hand, pulling him away from the tree. “I’ll show you.”

You both walk along a section of the forest that Doyoung isn’t familiar with, and he conjures some light orbs to illuminate the pathway. You spend a long time walking—so long that he’s almost afraid he won’t be able to find his way back out. Or maybe he’ll encounter one of those unfriendly creatures that you previously mentioned lives on the outskirts. Wherever you’re taking him is farther than he’s ventured before.

You finally stop when you get near the west edge of the forest. The trees are slightly sparser here, and there’s a path through the middle that trails off onto the bottom of a steep hill. The hill marks the end of the forest and flattens out onto a field of tall grass. He catches glimpses of the grass swaying in the breeze under the moonlight and the light of his own orbs.

That’s far from the most eye-catching thing here, though. Another lake sits before you two, though it’s much smaller than the other one—more like a pond—and forms a nearly perfect circle.

You walk along the grassy bank and pull Doyoung along with you, and he’s surprised to feel heat coming from the water as he gets nearer to it. It’s not a burning hotness, but a comfortable warmth.

“Shall we swim?” You look at Doyoung over your shoulder, letting go of his hand to tug at one strap of your dress. He nods, watching wordlessly as you peel your dress off in front of him. His throat tightens to see you’re wearing nothing underneath. Standing nude underneath the combined glow of the moon and his own blue light makes you look positively ethereal, and Doyoung mentally imprints this image in his mind, filing it away as a permanent memory.

He watches as you step off the grassy bank and get into the pond, the black water lapping at your legs as you wade further into it. He’s still standing and simply observing you as you turn around to look at him and lift your arms out of the water, like you’re asking for a hug. “Are you going to leave me all alone in here?” You give him your best pleading eyes, and it doesn’t take long for him to strip his clothes off and come in after you.

He dips underneath the water’s surface and swims around you, and you giggle as you can just barely make out his form under the water. You can only spot the ripples he leaves behind.

Doyoung’s head pops above the water on the farther side of the pond, with his long black hair sticking to his face and covering his shoulders. It makes his ears stand out more, and you laugh. You swim over to him and he pulls you into him when you’re close enough, your naked bodies molding themselves to each other. You’re about to say something, but his lips quickly envelop yours and you forget any words you formerly had. You kiss for a while in the lake’s warm water, with the full moon and Doyoung’s lights serving as your only illumination.

You haven’t done much else but kiss so far, but you can still feel something hard and warm pressing into your stomach. Doyoung’s lips separate from yours to travel to your neck, pressing against your pulse point and softly sucking the skin there.

You pull away to look at him, your body feeling strangely light and hot all at the same time. “Maybe we should get out of the water,” you say, smiling coyly.

Doyoung nods and scoops you up, carrying you out of the lake and setting you down on the unnaturally soft grass surrounding the waters. It feels almost like a cotton blanket underneath you.

You’re both fully exposed in front of each other now, though you don’t really feel embarrassed about it. Doyoung’s hands are warm as he cups the sides of your face and nudges his nose against yours, teasing you momentarily with the promise of his lips before actually kissing you again.

You like feeling his hair underneath your palm, all wet and slick beneath your fingertips, and you run your fingers through the strands. They coil around his neck and shoulders like little snakes, or maybe vines on a climbing plant.

His member stands against his stomach, already leaking precum from the press of your lips and the warmth of your body against his. You reach out to touch him, tracing your fingertip against a vein and feeling the stickiness of the precum, and Doyoung sighs against your lips. His hands come to your inner thighs, pushing them a bit further apart so he can dip his fingers between them and feel you wet and warm for him.

You gasp sharply when he slides a finger into you. He reaches deeply inside you, his palm rubbing against your clit as he fingers you, and it makes you spread your legs wider and push your hips closer into his touch. You wrap your fingers around him, and you enjoy the pulse of his cock in your hand as you stroke him.

Doyoung soon slips another finger into you, stretching you out more for him, and you moan as he does. You press your mouth against the base of this throat and his collarbones, feeling the firmness of them as you lightly drag your teeth over them. As if by luck, he shifts his fingers a certain way and brushes against that sweet spot that has you leaning further into his body and moaning hotly against his neck.

“Doyoung…” you sigh. He gives you an answering moan as your fingertips slide over his tip, purposely lingering at the slit. Your lips brush against each other’s, not quite kissing but making some semblance of the motion. Despite how good you’re feeling now, with his hand working you up to an inescapable high, you decide you need to have more of him; you need to get as close as possible. “Doyoung, please.”

“What do you need?” he asks, his voice unbearably gentle and breathy in your ear.

“You.” You take your hand away from him to guide his body on top of yours, parting your legs to invite him in-between. You are less preoccupied with foreplay at the moment and just want him inside you, which he has no complaints about.

The firm press of him inside you is unlike anything you’ve felt in the recent past. It’s not like dryads go their entire lives without sexual pleasure—of course, there’s always self-pleasure and the company of other women, and even the occasional agreeable male visitor who comes into the forest—but it’s been a long time since you’ve experienced it delivered by another person’s body. It’s almost strange, but also good and familiar, if only a little painful at first.

You try to breathe evenly as Doyoung seats himself inside you, his hands stroking you so adoringly that it makes you lose your bearings. Him leaning forward to kiss you only takes more of your breath.

“Is this good for you?” he asks quietly. You’re not quite sure what part of it he’s referring to—him inside you or his hands strumming along your breasts and clit—but you nod enthusiastically. Everything he’s doing feels undeniably good. Just when you think it could not get any better, he pulls out a bit and starts thrusting into you. His pace is slow, allowing you to adjust, but it’s enough to make you cry out loud, gripping his slick shoulders for support.

Doyoung brings himself close to kiss your lips again, grinning against your mouth. “Shhh, my princess. If you’re too loud, you’ll wake all the others.”

You nod against his wet forehead, breathing heavily, though it’s a bit hard to keep yourself quiet as he fills your body over and over again. You press your thighs tight against his hips, feeling the muscles in his body flex as he thrusts into you. His movements create a slick sound between you, and the lewd quality of it entices you more.

While one of his hands slides slick and slow across your clit, you grasp the other and bring it up to your lips, kissing his fingers like you did the day he told you he loved you, and then nibbling on them, sucking them into your mouth. Doyoung twitches inside you when your mouth tightens around his fingers, and he groans into the night air. You’re reluctant to let his hand go, but you do it so he can leverage himself enough to dip his head lower and give more attention to your breasts, drawing his tongue across the round firmness of them and catching your nipples in his mouth.

He angles himself a bit differently so he can find your spot again and concentrates on repeatedly pushing into that sensitive part of you. His attentions bring you to your climax soon, and you can barely quiet yourself as you come around him. The pleasure seems never-ending, like it’s pouring into you from a bottomless well, and small tears bead at the corners of your eyes. Doyoung cups your face and kisses your tears away, and you hold the back of his head as he does.

When Doyoung gets close, he slips himself from inside you and thrusts in between the tight space of your thighs, his tip rubbing across your stomach. He comes soon after doing this, his seed pooling on your skin, some of it running into the grass.

You both lie in the grass after the aftermath, with Doyoung pulling you so you can lay your body on top of his. His heartbeat is still fast; you hear it hammering in his chest as you rest your head against his breast. You close your eyes and let the sound of it calm your own restless body.

After a few long moments of listening to the insects and night creatures making their midnight songs, you stir from your position on his chest and draw yourself up. “Doyoung…” you murmur, straddling either side of his waist so you’re hovering over him. You press your lips against his and he responds with a slow kiss. You can practically feel how satisfied he is as his lips push against yours, like a drunken sprite who’s gotten into a cup of ale.

You depart from his lips and trail your mouth over the rest of his body until you’re level with his softened cock. It jumps a bit when you grasp it, and Doyoung groans softly; his voice increases slightly when you press your lips to it, still tasting the remnants of his salty release and your own pleasure. His hand comes to hold the back of your head as you take him into your mouth, licking the shaft and feeling his balls in your other hand.

Though he was the one who’d hushed you earlier, now he has to choke back his own moans as you suck him and stroke your tongue around his tip.

You draw your mouth away from him, and a trail of spit follows your lips. “Does this feel good, my prince?” you ask, still stroking him languidly to keep his pleasure stoked. You know it does, but you want to hear it from his mouth anyway.

“So good.” He makes a noise between a whimper and a groan, and it travels straight to the apex of your thighs. His stomach tenses with his strained breaths as you take him back into your mouth, focusing your attention on the leaking slit.

His thighs tremble when he gets closer, and as much as you’d like to have him come in your mouth and drip over your chin, you decide to pull away and straddle your legs around his waist again. Doyoung whines needily, though his complaints are quickly forgotten when your sex slides over his slick shaft. He waits with bated breath as you grab the base of his member and line him up with your entrance, pushing him into you as you sink down on him. Feeling him part your walls makes your legs shake a little, and you readjust your posture so you can maintain your stability.

You seat yourself fully on top of Doyoung and let him press himself up into you as you push back down on him, your hands scraping for purchase on his chest. In this position, you can control the pace and ride him just so that his tip is pressing into your most sensitive spot.

Eventually, you lean forward with your mouth covering his. Another orgasm approaches you fast, and you pant against his lips as you search for that release again. “I love you,” you moan softly, trying to muffle your sounds with the touch of his lips.

Doyoung’s hands roam your body, coming up to palm your breasts and thumb at your nipples. “I adore you,” he whispers.

This time you both come within moments of each other, moaning into each other’s mouths. Doyoung pushes himself into you until you’re leaking over him once more, and then he hurriedly pulls out and comes across your thigh, leaving trails of white dripping down your skin.

Doyoung knows he’ll need to get up and get dressed at some point—and begin the long trek back to the castle—but he doesn’t think about that right now. He just pulls you closer and enjoys the warm stickiness of your bodies together, the lukewarm breeze stirring his hair, and the gentle grass tickling his skin.

“You don’t seem like yourself lately.”

Jungwoo brings this up to Donghyuck during one of their archery lessons as they sit beside each other underneath the sun. The younger man was noticeably not as concentrated or effortless as he’d usually be, and many of his arrows ended up being off-mark, if not missing their targets entirely.

Currently, they both sit in the grass after their instructor called for a break earlier, stating that they needed some time to cool off and pull it together—Donghyuck in particular.

“I’m fine,” Donghyuck grumbles, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. If he could close his ears, too, he would. Unfortunately for him, his brother doesn’t take that as a sign to stop talking.

“That’s doubtful. Really, what’s chafing you? I know all the lessons can be annoying, but there is nothing we can do about that for now.” The younger man doesn’t answer at all this time, but Jungwoo continues on. “I know Doyoung isn’t with us during our breaks as often as he was before, but isn’t that a good thing? He can’t tell us what to do all the time.”

Donghyuck groans, wiping his hands over his face at the mention of their older brother. Jungwoo perks up at this. “Oh? Is it something with Doyoung that’s bothering you? What is it?”

Donghyuck is quiet for a moment longer. When it’s clear Jungwoo won’t leave the matter alone, he turns to face his brother fully, looking at him more closely. He hesitates for a moment before finally saying, “What would you do if you wanted something you couldn’t have?”

Jungwoo thinks for a moment. “I don’t know. It depends on what it is. Maybe the logical answer would be to just give it up and stop indulging a fruitless case.”

Donghyuck sighs, hanging his head. “Of course. But what if...alright, what if it was a person? Someone you’re particularly fond of. And…they just make you feel as if…if they looked at you once, you wouldn’t hesitate to hand them anything they could ever want. Then would you give up on them so easily?”

Jungwoo’s eyes widen, and Donghyuck thinks he must’ve said too much. Before he can speak to try to defuse the situation, Jungwoo says, “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about Nayeon. I’m sorry Donghyuck, but—”

“Ugh,” Donghyuck pushes himself to his feet, taking up his bow and arrow again and walking off to one of the targets farther away from Jungwoo. “Nevermind.”

After Donghyuck gives a few more unsuccessful tries, the instructor decides to dismiss them early and encourages Donghyuck to keep his head clear for their next session. “I am well aware of what you’re capable of, Donghyuck, and I know you understand your own abilities. Just look at it as simply having an off day, but do try to keep your concentration next time.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies, already feeling drained even though they’re only halfway through the day. The walk back to the castle with Jungwoo is quiet, though crossing the ample landscape gives him plenty of time to think to himself. What you’re capable of...Yes. What is he capable of?

Maybe there was still a way to alter the course.

“You’re particularly quiet today,” you remark, studying Doyoung’s face. You’re both sitting in the small clearing where you and the other dryads often gather at night, only it’s daytime now and the other girls are off doing their own things. Deeper among the woods, you can hear their laughter from a distance.

Doyoung came to visit you with a solemn look, and though you can tell he is still glad to see you, there’s also a tinge of disquiet beneath it.

A strong gust blows some strands of hair into his face, and you brush them away before he can do it himself. He turns his head and stares at you as you do, his eyes big and imploring and brewing with a distress you can’t place. “Actually, you seem to be a bit different since...that night,” you continue. Your face warms at the thought of your first time together, and how Doyoung took you in the grass and whispered sweet adoration to you. “Is something wrong?”

Doyoung’s lips part like he wants to speak, though he remains silent for a few moments more. Then he says something that nearly makes your heart stop, the words coming slow off his tongue. “I want to give up my title.”

“Your title? As Crown Prince? How can you do that?”

“I could do it,” he says, his voice still low. “There’s no law against it. It might be...dishonorable. No, it would certainly not be…” He pauses, then abandons whatever he was about to say. “But there’s no law to stop me.”

“But why? I thought you liked being royalty, at least to some degree. Your station in life affords you many things others don’t have.”

“It doesn’t afford me you.” He grasps your hand where it lies in the grass. “We can’t be together if I’m still Crown Prince. If I walk away, though...”

You’re also quiet now, unsure how to respond to a declaration like this. For Doyoung to give up his royal title for you...it’s a much bigger implication than you think he’s really considering.

“But, the throne...you’re the heir, and it just…” You’re almost desperate to come up with at least 100 reasons why he can’t do it, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe you’re too afraid to hope it could be possible, even if it’s the slightest chance.

“I have six other brothers. Any one of them could...” Doyoung falters, remembering Yuta’s and Sicheng’s controversial parentage, and then sighs but tries to remain hopeful. You look at him with wrinkled brows, worry crowding your heart. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, looping his arm with yours.

“I don’t know if they’d ever agree to it,” you say it almost inaudibly.

“There’s no way to know if we don’t try…” Doyoung replies, hugging you tightly to him. “I don’t care about giving up my title.”

You shake your head. “There are so many other things to consider, Doyoung.”

Doyoung knows you’re worried and doubtful, but he holds you close to him and kisses your temple and tries not to think about those things. He only wants to think about all the good things the future could hold for you.

A small grin appears on his face as he wills his mind to drift elsewhere. “How many children would you like to have?” Doyoung asks suddenly. You give him an incredulous look, though there is a grin of your own slowly taking over your lips.

“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want children.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “As long as I’ve been on this Earth, I’d have them by now if I wanted them.”

“Then it’d be just the two of us forever?” Doyoung pulls you so you’re both lying down and entangles himself with you, his head on your chest. He listens to your heart, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a sense of sleepiness. “That’s fine with me.”

You feel a tug at your heart, like the chambers are contracting in pain. “Yes, an eternity together.”

Despite your many doubts and questions, you have a warm dream that night. One of you and Doyoung living in the forest together, running through the hills, jumping across creeks, and enjoying each other’s company to your heart’s content.

Donghyuck knocks on the door of the King’s sitting room, his palms sweating as he waits for a response. Sicheng stands beside him, quiet and waiting to see if the man will respond. The King of Eupheme may be a long-term friend of their father’s, but Donghyuck can’t help the slight fear he feels whenever he’s in the man’s presence. Something about him has always been a little colder, more unforgiving, and more unyielding than their own father is.

“Who is it?” The man’s voice booms from behind the door.

“It...it’s Donghyuck and Sicheng, Your Highness.” Donghyuck’s voice wavers a bit as he speaks, and he tries to suppress the tremors in his speech. “We’re here for our...meeting.”

“Come in, then.”

Donghyuck turns the doorknob and enters the room, closing the heavy door behind him and his brother.

“Well, then. What is the pressing matter you have to inform me of?” The King raises one eyebrow, looking skeptical about whether Donghyuck has anything to report or not, though he waits patiently for the boy’s response.

The elven King’s presence seems impossibly heavier in this singular room, filling every corner of the space and physically weighing down the Earth’s gravity. Donghyuck almost doesn’t know what to do with himself in response to this force. Sicheng is less affected by it—or better at hiding it—though his face creases minutely. Donghyuck ends up speaking without thinking clearly about what he practiced prior.

“D…Doyoung is courting a dryad.”

“A...what, boy?” The King slowly leans forward, his sharp eyebrows drawing together, one hand coming up to stroke his long beard. They both know that he knows full well what a dryad is, but he seems unable to comprehend what Donghyuck has just blurted out. Or maybe he thinks the younger man is lying.

“A-a dryad, Your Highness. He’s been using his assigned free time—and sneaking out at night—every week to see her, in the forest beyond Arthenia. H…he’s even thinking of asking to be relieved from his title to be with her.” Donghyuck feels sweat gathering on the back of his neck, as if he’s the one about to be punished.

The King’s brows furrow even more, though this time his eyes hold a hint of rising anger. He leans back in his seat again, holding Donghyuck and Sicheng with a hard stare. “These are quite damning claims to make. Where is your proof?” Before either one can respond, the King continues on. “He will doubtless be questioned, but I would think that both of you have ample reason to try to sabotage the Crown Prince—especially you.” He directs his gaze to Sicheng at this, and Sicheng’s face falters. “A whore’s son will always believe he’s owed more than he’s worth.”

Disgust and hatred rises up in Sicheng’s chest at being regarded like this—always as less than his half-brothers—though he tries not to let his rage show. His jaw clenches as he speaks, keeping his tone measured, and it takes him a long moment to force out a proper response. “We indeed have proof…Your Highness.”

“If you’ll allow us, we need a mirror, Your Highness,” Donghyuck adds.

Still with a skeptical look on his face, the King waves his hand towards a small round mirror hanging on the east wall, sitting formerly unacknowledged despite all its ornate trappings. Sicheng walks over and takes it off the wall, coming back to stand in front of the King with it. Donghyuck comes up behind Sicheng and lays a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, pressing his index and middle finger where his brain stem would be. Donghyuck closes his eyes and concentrates, while Sicheng keeps his own eyes open, staring into the depths of the mirror and his own reflection.

In the mirror image, his eyes turn a foggy gray. Donghyuck’s memories flood into his mind as if they were his own, experienced with his own five senses; he can almost smell the forest grass and feel the sun burning his skin. Sicheng then takes his right hand and presses his fingertips against the mirror, forcing it to bend to his power and replicate what he’s seeing in his mind’s eye.

When the image becomes steady, Sicheng holds the mirror up to the King and lets him see what it displays; you and Doyoung lying in the grass together, with you dragging a tiny blue flower across his lips. Doyoung tilting his head up to accept your kiss. You looking straight ahead, trying to figure out why you sense a disturbance in the forest, only to see a deer—and missing the invisible form of Donghyuck staring at you and your lover from the bushes. Your conversation is hard to hear, consisting of mostly vague echoes, as if you were speaking underwater—channeling sounds is harder than conjuring up images—but there’s no need for words to understand what’s going on.

The King’s eyes are a windstorm of emotions at this point, a close rival to the actual stormy gray of Sicheng’s eyes as he reveals the memory. He is silent for an excruciatingly long moment. Still, he continually strokes his beard in a repetitive motion, though his gaze displays the true anger burning beneath the surface.

“And where is Doyoung right now?” he finally asks, after it seems like an eon has passed. Then he waves his hand sharply towards the mirror. “I’ve seen enough of that.”

“He has no duties to attend to as of right now, so he must’ve gone to the forest,” Sicheng responds. Donghyuck takes his hand away from his neck then, stepping back in a jerky motion as he tries to regain some of the energy spent from transferring the memory. Likewise, the mirror image fades once Sicheng takes his hand away from the glass, and the normal brown of his irises bleeds back into his eyes. “To see her again, no doubt.”

The King nods, pressing his fingers together into a steeple, his thick rings glinting in the light of the room. “Just as you say, the matter is quite grave. The King and Queen of Ceres will have to be notified immediately...and it will be handled accordingly.”

Donghyuck and Sicheng nod to the King’s statement, shooting each other looks out of the corners of their eyes. Donghyuck feels a small sense of triumph at knowing his brother will likely be sent back to Ceres soon—or at least, forbidden to see you anymore—even if he knows deep within that he shouldn’t be reveling in Doyoung’s impending heartbreak like this.

“Unfortunately, it also cannot be forgotten that you two, and all your other brothers, withheld this information for months.” The King blinks slowly. “I must also assume that my sons have been swept up in concealing this utter nonsense, to some degree. Those transgressions will be dealt with accordingly as well.” He draws the last sentence out to emphasize his claim, though the men have already heard him clearly. The tiny smirks they allowed themselves to show quickly fade.

Donghyuck feels as if he’s just had a bucket of cold water poured down his back, and Sicheng’s fists curl tightly around the mirror.

Donghyuck is the first to respond, bowing his head. “A-as necessary, Your Highness.” Sicheng lowers his own head after the younger does, though with noticeable reluctance.

The King waves his hand as a signal for the two men to leave, though he still looks thoughtful for reasons neither of them could guess. “You are both dismissed.”

Sicheng is fuming once they leave the sitting room, though Donghyuck’s anxiety manifests itself as tense silence, which is a true rarity for him.

“Look what your impulsiveness has gotten us into this time,” Sicheng gripes once they’re far enough away to not be heard. Donghyuck reawakens at that and shoots his brother daggers with his gaze.

“I didn’t think we’d get punished, too! And if you thought it was such a bad idea, you should’ve never agreed to it!”

Sicheng shakes his head, scoffing. “It’s neither here nor there anymore. Whatever comes of this had better be worth it.”

“You’d better hope,” Donghyuck continues. “Like we don’t know you’d sell us all out to have Yuta, your favorite brother, as the Crown Prince instead of Doyoung.”

Sicheng whips back around to Donghyuck. “I’d think he’d deserve it more than any of you ingrates who’ve had everything handed to you. You could never even imagine what it’s like to have to fight and scrape for an iota of respect among your own family.”

Donghyuck wants to scream something childish and hurtful back at him, but he’s lost on what to say. They all know Sicheng and Yuta have always been a bit separate from the rest of them despite their best efforts to make them feel included, but he hadn’t realized Sicheng felt quite this forsaken. The King’s earlier words certainly don’t help. Donghyuck has enough conscience left to feel guilty, though he refuses to acknowledge that aloud now.

When Sicheng sees that Donghyuck doesn’t have a response, he nods in vindication and stomps off.

After Doyoung returns to the castle that afternoon, the atmosphere in the castle is notably more tense. It’s as if storm clouds have gathered in the rafters, waiting for the perfect time to rain down hell. He senses this acutely, though he can’t quite understand the reasoning for it.

Donghyuck is uncharacteristically quiet today, and Sicheng is similarly reserved. Jeno, Jisung, and Jaemin conduct their business as usual, though there is a certain stiffness to their auras; the kind of careful and cautious demeanor you learn to adopt when living under the constant presence of a ticking timebomb. Mark and Jungwoo, who accompanied Doyoung on his visit to Arthenia and the forest, remain just as clueless as him about what’s wrong, though they also feel uncomfortable underneath the weight of the tension.

The air stays this way for hours, including during their nightly dinner. The Queen and King don’t do or say anything out of the ordinary, though Doyoung can feel the King’s eyes on him as he eats. The sensation of being watched makes his stomach curl into a ball, and his heart kicks up like a drum at the thought that pops into his mind. Maybe he’s been found out? But how? He’s been as careful as he knows how to be. He doesn’t truly believe any of his brothers would tell, and his cousins have been too disinterested in the affair to go stirring up trouble behind it.

Their three cousins eat quietly with their eyes glued to their plates, wondering what could be the cause of their father’s anger this time. They’ve known him long enough to pick up on the telltale signs of his rage, even when not openly expressed.

It’s nothing short of a relief when dinner is finally over, though Doyoung’s blood turns to lead when he hears the King’s deep voice booming from behind him. “Doyoung. Come with me.” The other men shoot him varying looks as they file out of the dining room, though none of them say a word. Donghyuck throws him a concerned glance in an attempt to remain unsuspecting, though there is a slight unsteadiness in his step.

By the time he gets to the King’s sitting room, Doyoung’s heart is beating overtime. He stands in front of the older man with his spine ramrod straight and his lips tucked into a thin line. The King doesn’t even acknowledge his presence for a few moments, simply stroking his beard and looking at some spot in the distance. Doyoung can’t decide if this is worse than being pinned under his gaze or not, though he quickly gets his answer when the King finally looks at him.

“Do you understand your position as Crown Prince?” This is not what he expected to hear first, though it fails to ease his anxiety.

“Of course, Your Highness. It’s a high honor, and one that requires a certain discipline.”

“Then why have you allowed yourself to become quite so undisciplined in your activities?”

Doyoung doesn’t know how to respond to this at first. He blinks rapidly and sweat breaks out over his skin. “Activities?” he stammers out, his mouth drying up.

“You’ve allowed yourself to be enamored by a woman who is so low she must live in the forest like an animal and forage for food. And you think this behavior is becoming of a man of your station?”

The room appears to spin. If his heart was hammering before, now it stops momentarily. Doyoung feels like he’s just smashed into a stone wall head-on. “Your Highness...I…”

“Have you lain with this creature?”

“Sh-she’s not...I…”

“Have you? Do not lie.”

Doyoung thinks of your hands on him and feels sick at such an intimate moment being forced out into the open like this, in such a cruel manner. “Y…yes.”

The King shakes his head, his frown deepening even more, if that’s possible. “And is there any chance that she could be with child now?”

Doyoung can’t remember ever feeling this humiliated, flayed open for all to see. “No. I was...careful.” The King pauses for a moment, like he doesn’t quite believe Doyoung’s claim. He doesn’t ask any further questions about it, though, and Doyoung doesn’t know whether to be concerned or relieved about that.

“Understand that you are infinitely lucky that you are not a woman, Doyoung, and can remain relatively unsullied by such acts. Nevertheless, I would’ve thought your father would’ve raised more diligent sons than this.” The King leans forward, and it seems like the Earth itself shifts with this movement.

“Then let one of the others have my title,” Doyoung blurts out, finally finding his voice again. “Yuta or Jaehyun. It doesn’t matter who it is.”

“Yuta isn’t getting anything,” the King spits. “Do you mean to make a complete mockery of your family? Your kingdom? To have a bastard sitting on the throne? Your father is a noble man, but laying with whores has resulted in the two biggest mistakes of his life.”

Doyoung’s head swims, and he has to bite back the first response that rises to his mind. “Your Highness, you’re correct in noting that I’ve made a grave error. Perhaps I’m truly not suited for the role. Don’t you think having my title transferred would be the best way to remedy that? Jaehyun is fit to be the Crown Prince. He can take my title, and I—”

“And you can do what? Live in the forest with the rest of the dregs?” The King draws himself up in his chair, and the action reminds Doyoung of a big brown bear attempting to intimidate a trespasser in its territory. His muscles turn rigid with fear. “It would behoove you to abandon this insane talk if you don’t wish to make the consequences worse for yourself. I’m not your father, boy, but as long as he’s left you under my care, I won’t entertain such dishonor on his behalf. ”

Doyoung wants to continue protesting but also knows that, just like you told him, this appears to be a fruitless case. He lowers his head as his stomach twists and his body tenses up further with the fear of what will come next.

“As you can expect, there will be no more visits to the village or the forest, if you can exercise no more self-control than this.”

Doyoung blinks rapidly, though there are no tears coming. “Will you send me away?”

“That would only draw more attention, which is the last thing we need to do. You are simply to remain in the castle until it’s time for you all to return to Ceres. Barring any more royal events, you will not be going anywhere further than the front lawn.”

Doyoung says nothing to this. To speak or nod would feel like sealing his own fate, though it’s already been chosen for him.

“You are lucky, Doyoung. Remember that. It is easier than you think for all of this to be forgotten, swept under the rug, so you can return to your homeland with your title and dignity intact. See—we do not even need to let your mother and father know. In a year from now, you will be wed, and this will be nothing but a regretful—if vague—memory.”

Still, Doyoung does not respond, his tongue heavy and immobile.

“You are your family’s honor. The consequences will not be as harsh for you...as long as you obey.” The King’s body relaxes now, as if all the day’s tension has suddenly unwound itself, though this is more of a false sense of security than any true calm. “Is that understood?”

Doyoung’s throat burns. It seems like he’s being pressed in on all sides. Not answering the King is not an option. Not seeing you again is not an option, either, if he wishes to preserve any iota of happiness on this Earth. Here it comes, now—the wetness gathering in his eyes and the tightening of his chest.

“I understand, Your Highness.”

It has only been a few days since Doyoung last saw you, but this alone feels like centuries to him, especially with the King’s order trailing him like a cement block tied to his leg.

He doesn’t intend on following it, regardless of the consequences. Maybe he’s not thinking straight anymore, but nothing else matters as much as you to him now.

There isn’t any way to easily get to you, though, considering the guards that have been stationed outside his room every night. And the other guards who follow him around the castle nearly 24/7 now. His glamors only grant him enough leeway to disguise his face, which is no use in making it out of his doorway undetected.

The stress of it all nearly makes him physically sick.

His brothers and cousins are not guarded quite so constantly as he, but they are similarly forbidden from leaving the castle—lest they try to report back to you with a message from Doyoung, or something similar.

Doyoung still does not know how the King found out and has had no free opportunity to question his brothers and cousins about it. In the back of his mind, though, the idea that he could’ve been betrayed lives constantly among his thoughts. Thinking on it for too long makes the back of his mouth taste sour, but he can’t help the festering sense of distrust he feels towards everyone around him.

Frayed and at his wit’s end, Doyoung finally thinks of an idea after an entire week of missing your presence. It’s a lot to ask for and may not work, but he needs to at least try it once before ruling it out. He has to be careful about it, of course, to avoid being found out by any of the watchful guards. Still, he manages to write a note during an etiquette lesson with his brothers, when the guards are standing outside the room. It’s easy enough to disguise his pen’s movements as him simply taking notes.

When the instructor looks down to read something from his book—squinting harshly even in his glasses, for his lack of sight—Doyoung slips the piece of paper to Mark. Mark gives him a questioning glance, though he says nothing. He only opens the note towards the end of the lesson, which is probably for the best because he makes a startled noise after reading it. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed by the instructor who is too busy listening to Sicheng answer a question he just asked him. Mark’s eyes burn into the side of Doyoung’s face, though the older man only gives him a sparing glance and returns his attention to his papers.

Mark and Doyoung don’t get to talk formally until their next set of archery lessons. Only one of Doyoung’s guards is present that day, and he hangs back far enough outside of the archery range that it’d be difficult to hear their conversation, especially with them talking in low tones. Doyoung is the first one to initiate once their archery teacher becomes preoccupied with showing Jungwoo and Jaemin the technique for a trick shot.

He glances over at Mark after letting his arrow fly, then turns slightly toward him as he grabs another from his quiver. “Mark.”

The younger man’s eyes widen a bit at hearing his name called. “What?” he answers full-voiced, which causes Doyoung to give him a glare. Catching onto what’s going on, Mark throws an anxious glance behind them to the guard and to his left to the instructor, but no one pays him any mind.

“The note.”

Mark makes a face as if he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, then quickly tries to relax his expression. “Doyoung, I don’t think…is this really a good idea?”

“I need to see her, Mark,” Doyoung hisses.

Mark’s eyebrows crease. He takes a moment to shoot his arrow at the target, not wanting to come off as suspicious to the others by just standing there. “I’ve never created a portal like…between Donghyuck’s room and mine, back at our castle? Yes, that’s perfectly fine. But from here all the way to the forest? That’s…” The younger man shakes his head, biting his lip.

“You have to try,” Doyoung begs. “Practice it or something. All you need to do is create one to get to my room, and then to the forest. I don’t care if it takes you a while, as long as I can see her again before we have to go back.” He does care, but at this point, he figures it’s better to have something than nothing.

Mark gives Doyoung a long look, shakes his head again, and then nods. “Okay. Okay. I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

Doyoung presses his lips together and nods. His eyes are desperate, though he tries not to be. “It’s okay. Just try, Mark.”

Mark spends the next few days in the library in-between lessons. Though he hasn’t taken much interest in this part of the castle before now, he finds himself pouring through old, dusty books in search of something that can help him find a way to create a long-distance portal.

One of the books he finds describes simply just concentrating all your energy into your hands and putting it forth to open up a rip in space—which he is already capable of, but that doesn’t help him with projecting it out further. Another contains a weird chanting verse that he tries to pronounce, to no avail. Even if it did work, he wouldn’t know how to say it.

However, he eventually happens upon something that catches his eye.

“The Root Chakra serves as the foundation of your body and soul. Only when you are firmly grounded in your current body, space, and time can you begin to manipulate other spaces in time…whether it concerns generating long-range portals through space manipulation or even accessing different moments in history.”

“Opening the Root Chakra, huh?” Mark laughs to himself quietly and shakes his head. Despite being a magic user since birth, along with the rest of his brothers, this is the first time he’s heard anything of the sort. But it’s better later than never to learn.

Perhaps he’s more invested in this scheme than he should be, for both his and his brother’s sakes, but he also knows that he hasn’t seen Doyoung so fulfilled and joyful since discovering the forest. If his efforts can make a bit of difference in Doyoung’s current sunken mood, Mark is willing to try.

Therefore, he sets to work on “opening” this purported Chakra, keeping his practice to late-night hours to ensure he won’t be walked in on by anyone else. He feels a bit awkward at first, maybe even a little foolish, with “meditating” and trying to reach out to some strange energy inside himself. He’s never had to put much thought into creating portals before; it’s just something that happens as he wills it. He never considered that there might be more to the practice—that he’d need to tap into some kind of extra energy to improve his skills. He thinks back to the magic crystals in the marketplace and wonders if they’d be any help in this situation, though there’s no way of finding out.

Mark practices opening portals within the floor, knowing his room is above an empty guest room, as it’s too risky to try any of the walls; Jisung and Jungwoo sleep in the rooms on either side of him. He is soon able to make his portals wider than before—where they used to be the width of only his palms—which allows him to peer more clearly into the empty room below, though he still hasn’t tried to conjure anything farther away than that.

Once he feels he has more control over his energy, Mark soon begins experimenting with visualization, a technique the book cites for conjuring up long-distance locations. Allowing his energy to concentrate in his hands, he places his palms just above the floor of his room and pictures a place he’s fairly familiar with by now—the library. If it goes as planned, he’ll have created a portal to the library; if not…who knows what will be on the other side.

He feels the energy flow through his body, from his core, up his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms…it gathers in his palms and fingertips and triggers a small rip in time, which he gradually coaxes open wider, all the while visualizing the library as clearly as he can. Mark pushes the portal open a bit wider still and opens his eyes slightly to see if it’s worked. He’s dismayed, however, when he still sees the empty guest room sitting below him. A heavy sigh leaves his body, and it pushes the rest of his energy out with it; the portal closes with a silent snap.

Guess he’ll just have to try again.

The next few tries work similarly, and on those nights, he often ends up climbing into bed feeling discouraged and sapped of strength and wondering if he’ll ever get it, or if any of this is worth it. He keeps at it, though, for Doyoung’s benefit. And also partly because he’s curious to see what he’s capable of; now that he’s opened these floodgates, he needs to see how far he can push himself.

The first real hint of success takes him by surprise. It doesn’t happen quite as cleanly or perfectly as the book says, but something happens. When Mark opens his eyes that time, he’s still looking at the guest room—but now there appears to be a faint afterimage of the library merged with it, as if someone had tried to paint two different pictures at once. It’s not a complete location shift by any means, and he doesn’t try to go into the portal—afraid he might somehow get stuck between two realities—but it’s a start.

Improving on that start requires a little more time. More hours of meditating, reading, pushing his energy out and expanding it, visualizing. The afterimage begins growing clearer all the while.

On one blessed night, Mark opens his eyes, and the library itself is sitting below him. Not a faint representation of it, merged with some other room of the castle, but the actual library. He’s so surprised that he almost closes the portal by accident and has to steady his concentration to keep the energy flowing. Carefully, he sticks one hand through it. Then the other. It is still hard to keep the entrance open without physically guiding it with his hands, but he can manage it for a minute or two.

He looks at the long distance beneath him to the floor, with nothing but a lounge sofa to break his landing. Sweat breaks out on his skin, but he takes a moment to steel himself and take a deep breath. Then, he jumps through the portal feet-first, bouncing clumsily onto the sofa and tumbling onto the floor. Just as quick as he can right himself, he hurries behind the sofa to hide, afraid he might’ve alerted one of the guards with his rough landing. The portal has already closed above him with the loss of directed energy.

Mark waits for what feels like forever, his legs burning from holding the crouch, but no one comes. When he’s positive it’s safe, he places his hands on the floor and this time tries to create a portal back to his room. The spacetime-rip flickers briefly as if it won’t work, and a surge of panic rises in him, but soon it displays the sight of his bed and the nightstands on either side. A sigh of relief leaves him, and he jumps through the portal as smoothly as he can, landing on his bed this time.

Now, he is ready. He hopes.

The end of September—and the end of their stay in Eupheme—approaches. By that time, it has been weeks since you and Doyoung have seen each other. The one bright spot, though, lies with Mark.

Mark passes Doyoung a note during another of their etiquette lessons. The older man doesn’t wait to open it, though he keeps a watchful eye on the instructor as he does.

I think I’ve done it. Let’s try tonight.

Doyoung sucks in a breath and slowly lets it back out. Then, he crumbles the piece of paper up and shoves it into the pocket of his pants. He gives Mark a small nod, and Mark returns it before facing the teacher again as if nothing has happened.

Even though Doyoung had already given Mark instructions for how to create the portal, he is a bit unsure what to expect that night. He sits on the edge of his bed fully clothed, his hands clasped nervously together as his eyes dart all around the room, wondering where Mark will show up at.

He soon gets his answer when a teal ring of light manifests itself on the east wall of his room. It remains small only for a few moments before widening out enough to accommodate Mark’s form as he steps through it. Mark himself looks a bit shocked at what he’s just accomplished, even though he’s been doing it for a good amount of time now. Doyoung leaps up from the bed, about to speak, though he winces and remembers they still need to be mindful of the guards outside his door.

“You really did it,” Doyoung whispers, watching in awe as Mark closes the portal to his own room behind him.

“I did,” Mark affirms, and he can’t help but grin a little. However, his smile slips. “There is one thing, though.”

Doyoung’s stomach drops, and he can only imagine what this caveat will be. “What is it?”

“Well, once I’ve created the portal, I’ll have to keep it open,” Mark says. “Otherwise, I won’t know when you’re coming back…since we can’t communicate. But…I’ll only be able to keep energy flowing into it for about 15 minutes, maybe less, so…”

“…so make it quick. Right?” Doyoung replies. He is not surprised. Not because of any lack in Mark’s abilities, but more because this just seems to be the kind of luck that’s afflicted him as of late. Mark nods sheepishly.

“Just…be aware of the time,” Mark says, giving Doyoung an apologetic look. The older man only nods silently and steps back as he lets the younger do his work. Mark walks over to the wall he just came from and places his palms against it, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and concentrating. He holds the image of the forest entrance in his mind’s eye and shifts the power out from his hands and to the wall, opening up a gap in space as the portal widens.

Doyoung’s heart rate picks up as he sees that familiar forest entrance forming in front of him, still crowded with overgrowth and greenery. He steps over to Mark to see it closer, and he can even feel the cool night air brushing past his skin as he peers in.

Mark opens his eyes and nods for Doyoung to go on, and the older gives him a nervous smile. “Thank you.”

Indeed, the forest on the other side is the exact same one he’s been visiting for the entire summer. The same dirt underneath his feet, the same trees crowding each other in. For that reason, he doesn’t waste any more time with rushing inside, heading straight for the oak tree.

There’s an indignant sentence waiting on your lips when you hear Doyoung crashing into your forest late that night, not having seen him in weeks. You’re hurt, but you also realize there must be something serious going on back at the castle if it’s taken him this long to get back to you. However, the words die when you see the pure anguish on his face as he bursts out of the vegetation.

You slip out of the oak tree to meet him on the ground, and he scoops you in his arms like he did all those weeks ago, though this passion is now charged with fear. “Doyoung, what’s happened? What’s the matter? What has kept you so long?” you ask worriedly, taking his face in your hands.

Doyoung holds you close and simply buries his face in the front of your dress for a long moment, breathing in your scent and absorbing the warmth of your skin. Though you are terrified and confused, you wait for him to calm himself enough to speak to you.

“I can’t anymore,” he says, his voice low and broken. Your heart drops at this.

“Can’t what?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

“The King has forbidden me to come here—I shouldn’t be here now, but Mark...Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You hold Doyoung tighter against you, as if you could both become one being if you concentrated hard enough—wished hard enough. Your head throbs with the hurt of it, and your heart feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. You don’t say anything for a while, biting your lip so hard that it nearly bleeds.

“I tried.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Forgive me. I tried.”

“There’s no one to blame,” you argue, breathless from the vise pinching your heart and lungs. “I think we both knew how this would end…”

“I don’t want it to be this way. Y/N, forgive me. I should’ve never told you anything…perhaps if I’d kept my feelings to myself, we wouldn’t be in this mess now. You could live happily as you were, and I—”

“Don’t. Please don’t. I wouldn’t trade our time together for any living being…not even the gods.” You shake your head as tears begin to slip down your cheeks. Doyoung tries to wipe them away, though tears of his own escape without his permission. “It may be selfish, but…I-I just ask that…p-please don’t forget about me when you leave and start your own family.”

Doyoung takes a deep, shuddering breath and presses your head into his chest. “I could never,” he whispers.

He thinks he’s safe in your arms, and you safe in his. That’s what he’d like to believe, as you sit here together in the forest for the last time. Unbeknownst to him, something in the castle stirs and then bursts to life, violent and red-hot with rage.

Mark, on the other side of the portal, waits. He feels his energy weakening the longer he holds it open, but he does so anyway as nervous sweat gathers on his temples. He wants to call out to Doyoung to somehow warn him of the time limit, but remembers that the guards will hear it if he does. So he remains silent and waits impatiently as the end of the 15 minutes approaches.

However, he can’t wait any longer as the time ticks past. His magic flickers once, as does the portal, before disappearing completely. Mark nearly keels over at the loss of energy and has to catch himself as quietly as possible, bracing his shaking hands against the floor. He pushes himself up a bit and sits on his knees. He thinks desperately to himself, I should make another portal, but he doesn’t have enough energy for that at the moment.

The next move he makes is a costly one.

He reaches into his pants pocket for his pocketwatch, which he remembered to bring with him. He intends to see how far it is past the time they’d agreed Doyoung would come back, and how long it might take him to regain enough strength for another portal, but his shaky hands cause him to drop the small watch. He tries to grab the chain, but the movement is too sudden and clumsy and causes the watch to bounce even farther away from him, skittering clear off the rug and onto the hardwood floor.

Mark swears all his organs stop functioning at once when he hears a knock on the door. It’s quiet at first, and the silence is deafening. He thinks about scurrying up into the bed and lying there to pretend like he’s Doyoung, still asleep and not out in the forest, but his legs are locked with fear and lingering weakness. The second knock is more forceful, and the guard doesn’t wait for much longer before jamming his key in the lock and swinging the door open.

Mark whips his head around, and they both stare at each other dumbstruck for a moment. The guard’s gaze lingers at Mark in confusion, then quickly sweeps over to the empty bed. His eyebrows draw into a furious expression. “Where is the Crown Prince?”

Doyoung’s heart squeezes painfully at the thought of returning to Ceres without you, his brothers going on with their lives as normal despite his own secret heartache—and it’s only then that he realizes he’s lost track of the time. He jerks away from your arms, looking around frantically. “Wait—Mark.”

“Mark?” you repeat, confused.

“I…he made a portal so I could get here, but I was supposed to…shit. Come on.” Doyoung takes your hand and you both rush to the forest entrance. When you get there, though, there’s no portal and no Mark. Doyoung’s grip around your hand tightens.

Though you aren’t totally sure what’s going on, a sudden dread overcomes you. “What happened to it?”

“He probably had to close it, but…I’m sure he’ll open it again once he gets his energy back.” Doyoung’s voice is uncertain, though, like he’s trying to convince you both. You look at the side of his face and try not to voice your fears, but as you both stand there waiting to see if the portal will reappear, it becomes apparent that something has went wrong with the plan.

“Explain yourself.”

“Your Highness…I…um…” Mark’s mouth is too dry for him to properly form words, and his legs shake where he stands. Not because of having his energy sapped—because of the King’s overbearing presence. The King stands in front of him, not even bothering to go to his desk this time, and Mark has to crane his neck a bit to look at him, though he can’t meet his eyes. “It was just…”

“I won’t ask again.”

Mark shakes his head and pulls at his hair, silently begging Doyoung for forgiveness in his mind. Still, he doesn’t say anything to give his brother up, keeping his eyes averted more out of fear than deference. “Please, Your Highness…I just…”

When the King sees that Mark won’t give a direct answer, he scoffs in disgust, sweeps the younger man out of the way, and heads for the door. Though Mark only moves a few inches, he feels like he might as well have been thrown clear across the room. The King speaks to one of Doyoung’s guards, who was standing just behind Mark. “Call the rest of the guards. I’ve exhausted my patience on the matter; these lecherous whores cannot be allowed to continue defiling my kingdom.”

“Wh-what does that mean?” Mark’s small voice is lost to the air as the King leaves the room without a glance backwards. The guard goes to enact his order, while the other one grips Mark tightly by the upper arm and drags him out of the sitting room. “N-no, wait, what’s about to happen?”

The guard yanks Mark’s arm in a gesture that calls for the questioning to come to an end. “Best keep quiet, boy. You and the Crown Prince have gotten yourself into enough shit tonight.” Then he chuckles. “One of these days, he was bound to find out that everyone won’t keep coddling him and wiping his ass. About to lose his title over some pussy. Quite sad, isn’t it?”

The guard’s words—and the realization that none of them have ever really cared about Doyoung’s wellbeing beyond being his hired watchdogs—sets Mark off. “Shut the fuck up!” Mark spits in his eye and stomps on the man’s foot at the same time, and the guard curses and lets him go for a split second. Mark doesn’t wait. He takes off down the hall, unsure where he’s going but knowing the castle is big enough to lose the guard—as long as he doesn’t run into anyone else.

He just needs to get somewhere where he can have enough time to create another portal.

“This can’t be good…” you finally say. You and Doyoung must have a death grip on each other’s hands right now, but neither of you are willing to pull away.

Doyoung shakes his head slowly. “No…it’s been too long. Maybe I-I should go back. Maybe if I go back willingly now…” He trails off, not knowing what could come at the end of that sentence.

“Doyoung, no. I…please don’t leave me.” You feel mentally torn between sending him away and knowing this is the last time you’ll see him versus having him stay here with you, if only for a few minutes more. At this point, you’re not sure what the right answer is anymore.

“They might come looking for me, Y/N, and I don’t want them coming here disturbing the forest—"

“Stay! You can hide somewhere, I…as the keepers of the forest, we’ve been handling ourselves against intruders for years. We can protect ourselves—and you. If they come, you can hide out here until they leave. Please, stay.”

Doyoung cannot say no to you or your pleading eyes. He nods. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen after all this—if he wants to go back to the castle, or if he’ll even be allowed to return. He doesn’t know what they’ll do to him in retaliation, and even the vague idea of it frightens him. Having his title removed is one thing, but the King of Eupheme is far more vindictive than that.

You and Doyoung only make it to the small cave you’d hidden in on that rainy day before you hear the distinct sound of another pair of feet crashing through the woods. You both whip your heads around, though you also grab Doyoung’s arm and pull him under the cover of the willow tree. Your mind is racing a mile a minute, and you are too frantic to be able to sense who this new person is; though the question is quickly answered by a sharp whisper.

“Doyoung! Doyoung?”

“It’s Mark,” Doyoung hisses, his eyes widening. He slips between the tree branches and softly calls Mark’s name. In another few moments, the younger man is standing under the tree with you both.

“What happened?!” Doyoung asks, holding onto the younger boy’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” This is all Mark can say, and the words roll off his tongue repeatedly. He hangs his head. “The King knows, and he’s sent the guards to come here—I don’t know what he’s going to do, but—please believe me. It doesn’t sound good. He’s done being reasoned with.”

You and Doyoung look at each other with trepidation gripping your chests, realizing the stakes are much higher than you anticipated. This does not sound like just another case of “unwelcome intruders,” but “unwelcome intruders with bloodlust on their minds.”

“But—I can create another portal. I’m sorry, the last time, I just—but I can make one now. Come with us, please.” The last sentence is directed at you, and you shake your head.

“And go where? They’ll still be waiting for me at the castle. Are you suggesting we run away from Eupheme?” Doyoung’s voice is not reprimanding, but more incredulous than anything else.

Mark’s hands shake at the idea of turning his back on his family, which is something he’s never had to consider before—not even in the slightest sense. Things have gotten much more out of hand than he could’ve predicted.

You shake your head again, your hand slipping from Doyoung’s. “Just…I’ll stay here and help the others. You should go.”

“Y/N, I...” Doyoung’s throat tightens as he tries to speak, but his thoughts are disrupted by a quickly mounting commotion. The sound of hooves beating in the distance, though getting increasingly closer. The shouts of men who are ready to wage a battle, with fire racing through their veins.

Though most of Arthenia is asleep at this time of night, the noise of the horses’ hooves and the soldiers’ shouts is enough to begin waking the townspeople up out of their beds. Faces press against windows and peep out of doorways to see what’s happening.

The villagers are terrified when they see a group of soldiers adorned in the royal insignia and riding on horses enter Arthenia with lit torches in their hands, thinking their homes are about to be destroyed. However, they become even more confused and frantic when they quickly realize this band of men is paying their properties no mind and heading straight in the direction of the forest instead.

Some of Arthenia’s magic-wielders rush from their homes to try to put a stop to the men once they understand the situation, and the orcs and ogres meet them with brute force alone. The guards are met with a fight fiercer than they expected, even with their torches and daggers, not realizing the villagers could be so battle-hardy.

The King watches the battle ensuing in Arthenia from a hilly vantage point above the small town. The guards have failed to make much more headway against the villagers, who are gradually inching them back towards the village entrance. Shaking his head in disgust, the King pulls on his horse’s reins. “If you want something done, do it yourself.”

Some of the townspeople notice the King’s appearance just before he rides into the village. A few of them falter and cower in fear, finding the nearest exit point and taking their leave. Some others, incensed at their town being threatened and generally filled with rage at the King’s lack of fair leadership, decide to charge him head-on. They’re quickly extinguished, though, when the King conjures a great sphere of fire in his hands and whips it across them without a second thought.

He does the same to any other Arthenians who attempt to challenge him as he cuts a path through the village, uncaring of the land and homes he sets on fire as he does. A couple of the guards hop back on their steeds and follow him to his ultimate destination.

The King drives forward into the foliage. The women of the forest are armed with their own heavy rocks and sharpened arrows and daggers dipped in poisonous berry juice, though their weapons can barely leave their hands before everything is suddenly being enveloped in a wide swath of fire, meted out by the King’s hand. He leaves a path clear for himself and the guards in the middle, but the trees on either side are sent up in a blaze.

The two guards remain in single file behind him to use his fire as a shield and avoid the sharp rocks and poison-dipped darts zooming past their heads. Perhaps they’ve underestimated these tree-dwellers; already, there have been a few scrapes that were too close for comfort with the jagged edge of a rock or two. The guards light up as much greenery as they can as they go, using their torches to ignite leaves and low-hanging branches.

All around them, there are the sounds of Arthenians and dryads screaming in tandem as their homes go up in flames. A few nymphs lie fallen among the grass, unmoving as their tree homes burn up in the night.

The King, who has had the foresight to bring his shield, keeps it steady in front of him as he blasts fireballs out from behind it, lighting up one group of trees after another. He doesn’t know which one belongs to you, but he is willing to burn down the entire forest to find out. His movements are wilder than they’d normally be, which says a lot even for him, who has previously had no trouble slashing down anyone who stood in his way during battle—even if they were innocents.

“Doyoung!” The King shouts, and he whips up a great blanket of fire. He sends it careening up towards the sky like a shooting star, and it lands high among the tree canopy, heavy and far-reaching enough to burn treetops several feet in every direction. The guards become a bit wary at this, as the flames blaze above their heads and send sparks and burning debris flying down. “Doyoung!” His voice shakes the leaves like thunder. “If you do not wish to burn alive with these forest dregs, show yourself now!”

Doyoung’s spine stiffens as he hears his name echoing through the woods. It comes from a distance behind you all but is still too close for reassurance. If you stay in this spot for another few minutes, the King or one of his guards could be right on top of your heads.

“Come on!” Doyoung pulls your hand tightly as he helps you up the edge of a steep grassy incline, Mark supporting you from below. Though you’d be able to make it up there any other time by yourself, you don’t dare deny the help now. Your whole body feels like a live wire of fear and panic; the forest burns around you, and the encroaching smoke threatens to choke all three of you to death. Most of all, you feel devastated to see what’s happening around you, being essentially powerless to stop it. Nothing of this degree has ever befallen your home before; even the rare small blaze could be easily enough snuffed out. But not when the flames are being stoked and encouraged like this—building upon each other to see which can reach the tallest tree or the farthest edge of the forest.

After you reach solid ground, Doyoung drags Mark up behind you. There’s no time to pause after all three of you are on the ground; Doyoung grips your hand again and Mark follows behind the two of you as you run.

“The tree, the tree, the tree…” These words spill from your lips in a frenzy. Though your tree hasn’t been touched by the flames yet, it’s only a matter of time with the forest rapidly catching on fire. You can still feel the deep anguish of every other tree in the forest as their trunks catch fire, their leaves shrivel up, and the water evaporates from their root systems. Their silent screams and the shouts of your fellow dryads ring in your head loud enough to make you fear that your skull will split.

“Where are we going?” Mark asks, covering his nose with his sleeve and coughing profusely at the smoke all around.

“Out of the forest!” Doyoung shouts back. He doesn’t really know where to go except for the edge of the woods, and you aren’t in a state to tell him where to head. Deep down, he knows you want to turn back and go to your tree. The oak tree lives innately in you and you inside of it, and it calls you to come back, but the path is too dangerous; returning to it would only speed up what appears to be progressively inevitable. The King and his guards are somewhere in the forest behind you all, and turning back would only land you right in their hands or in the tendrils of the fire.

One of the guards feels a tinge of nervousness grow as the fire rages on around them, and he decides to try to reach out to the King. “Your Highness! I will go in search of Doyoung. Perhaps we should fetch him now before some danger befalls him; the fire is spreading exponentially.” The King gives him a signal to depart, though his eyes still burn just as brightly as the flames do.

The guard separates from the King to cut a path diagonally through the woods, going off to find Doyoung. The Crown Prince may have disobeyed the King—which is as good as committing treason against the kingdom—but it would still not look favorable for him to have died in a fire started at the King’s hands. However, the King is too far engulfed in the whirlwind of his own rage to consider these things more deeply.

The other guard stays by the King’s side, though his horse nervously shifts in place at the flames all around. The two men come to a stop in a wide and messy half-circle of fire, their backs to the flames as they watch the woods ahead for any signs of approaching creatures—or Doyoung himself.

Unbeknownst to the King, your oak tree sits only a few feet away in a yet-untouched portion of greenery.

A few leaves suddenly fall off a tree up ahead—too sudden to merely be caused by the wind—and this makes the King whip his head around and raise his hand to unleash more fire. Nothing appears from that spot, however, and the leaves remain as still as they were before. That moment of hesitancy costs him.

A small poison-tipped dart shoots from the leaves, catapulted by the force of a sudden, expertly-timed breath through a wooden blowgun. It lands squarely in the King’s open palm, which still faces the tree. A shout bursts from his throat in response, and it is only then that the guard realizes what’s just happened.

“Your Highness—!”

The shock and pain of the sudden assault causes the King to strike out in delayed anger, sending a wave of fire at the row of trees ahead of him—and a little further beyond, your oak tree in its small, grassy clearing. The dart burns up in his palm as he does, but its sharp point has already broken his skin. His reaction, though hampered by a few seconds, doesn’t afford Cassia much time to do anything but watch as a wall of feverish red and orange overtakes her, but her last few thoughts linger with you—where you might be within the forest right now, and if she could see you again in some faraway afterlife.

You’ve always known you would die when your tree finally did, but you weren’t sure what you expected it to feel like.

Certainly, not this kind of great reckoning—a sensation of every living element simultaneously being drained from your body. It feels like the core essence of your being has been cracked like an egg and is now flowing out endlessly, laid to waste in the grass. The sudden weakness that eclipses you makes it so that you can barely move your legs to continue running, and you collapse to the ground.

Mark nearly trips over your fallen form, but he quickly finds his voice and screams for Doyoung. The older man is already turning around, however, at feeling your hand slip from his. He rushes to you immediately, his eyes growing wide as he tucks his hands under you and scoops you into his arms.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, please! Y/N, please, no!”

“Doyoung…”

“No. No! I’m begging...please, stay with me.”

Tears spill from his eyes in an endless torrent. You would like to touch his face at least once more, and you are infinitely glad—if not also heartbroken—when he grabs your hand and holds it to his cheek. His tears wet your skin, running down your palm.

“I…I already told you not to forget me, so please…”

“Y/N, I’ve got to get you out of here…” Doyoung says desperately, and he struggles to make it to his feet. His legs tremble too much to support him, though, and his shoes slide in the leaves and dirt underfoot. Mark stumbles backwards, his back hitting a tree trunk as his muscles tense in horror at the scene in front of him.

“D-don’t. Leave me here.” Even saying this much feels like a massive effort.

“What?”

“Th-the forest and I are one in the same. I live and die here. Please…do this one thing for me, Doyoung.” You look at him imploringly with as much strength as you can summon despite your eyes growing heavier. Beyond the smoke, the cloudiness of your own tears, and the pull of death, it’s becoming harder to see; his features blur amid your surroundings.

Doyoung is quiet for a moment, though he slowly nods, gripping your hand tightly. He lowers his forehead to yours, and through the smoke and fire, he swears he can still smell the scent of jasmine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“My prince…” The corners of your mouth rise in a tiny smile. “I love you.”

The Crown Prince keeps his forehead against yours, his tears raining down on your cheeks long after you’ve gone limp in his arms.

Mark slumps to the ground, feeling as if his stomach will turn itself inside out, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to breathe evenly, though his chest tightens painfully from the attempt. Eventually, he buries his face in his hands, trying to physically shut out the ache. He’s not sure how much time passes like that, with him and his brother immobilized on the ground, but he does know they need to leave, soon, as the air around them grows more stifling.

“Doyoung…D-Doyoung, we need to…w-we should…” Mark’s voice cracks, coming out weak in the roar of the noise around them. He coughs again, then shuffles to his feet, leaning on the tree for support.

Doyoung looks up at him without a word, his face streaked with tears and dirt. Then, slowly, he unravels himself from you and lays your body gently on the ground. He shuns his cloak to cover you with it, though part of him desires to stay here and perish with you instead of leaving only a portion of himself behind.

Him and Mark travel a few more yards through the woods, and though he’s never seen this part of the landscape before, he can guess they might be nearing the edge of the forest. The trees have begun thinning out here like they did at the small circular lake.

“Wait—" Mark calls out. Doyoung doesn’t bother looking back at Mark, but he can hear it too. The sound of horse hooves increases in volume, and they soon see one of the guards riding towards them, torch still in hand.

“Crown Prince! Prince Mark!” he shouts. “Come with me immediately!”

Doyoung looks frantically towards the ground. A sizeable rock catches his eye, bigger than the palm of his hand, and he picks it up. Without a second thought, he launches it at the guard’s face. It catches the guard on the left side of his face with a sickening pop, causing him to yell out in pain and fall from his horse. His torch falls from his grasp, starting yet another small fire where it lands.

With its rider gone, the horse slows its pace, though it does not stop. Doyoung catches it by the reins and is able to bring it to a pause long enough for him and Mark to get on. Everything else falls away from him as he guides them towards the forest’s outskirts; he barely feels the wind whipping past them, the lingering smoke stinging his eyes, or even the sturdy animal racing underneath him. He has a brief thought about what happened to those dangerous animals you said live on the outskirts, as there are none here now, but he reasons that maybe they’ve already made their own escape.

The sky is turning lighter now from the approaching dawn. When they finally breach the last row of trees in the woods, they come out onto an expansive field, only broken up by stray trees here and there and other landforms. On the far horizon, another town looms against the sky, though it’s much bigger than Arthenia.

Doyoung signals for the horse to stop, and both he and Mark sit there for a few long moments. Mark sucks in a few deep breaths, as if he were the one running this entire time.

“W-what…what now?”

Doyoung doesn’t answer at first. Then, quietly, he asks, “Are you coming?”

Mark doesn’t know where his brother intends to go, but he wordlessly understands that it isn’t back to the castle. Or even Ceres. He swallows against the lump in his throat.

“I…I have to see the others.” He means their brothers. He means their parents back in Ceres, if he is even allowed to live. He is not sure what the King will do to him once he returns—if he’ll be tried for treason. Still, his chest burns with the desire to see his siblings at least once more.

Maybe that’s how he justifies it.

He’s not entirely sure why he refuses Doyoung in this moment, even when he thinks back on it years from now. Maybe he is too ashamed of the guilt—of feeling like it was all his fault. (If he hadn’t dropped the stopwatch…) He doesn’t want to serve as that constant reminder for his brother.

“Can you get back, then?” Doyoung asks. Mark realizes he’s referring to creating another portal, and he nods, though somewhat hesitantly.

“Y…yeah. I can.” He swallows again and hesitates for another moment. Then, Mark dismounts from the horse and looks up at Doyoung. “Where…where will you go?”

If the older man has already planned his route, he doesn’t disclose it. He simply looks at Mark with an expression that can only be described as pitiable, broken. His eyes are red-rimmed and his skin is ashen. “Goodbye, Mark.”

Mark stares at his retreating back as he leads the horse away and across the field. The space between them stretches out into forever, with a million unsaid thoughts and emotions falling in the gap.

Behind him, the forest continues to burn, taking all life with it. In front of him, Doyoung’s form turns into a speck against the endless green. It is a long time before Mark leaves that spot in the grass.

In the castle, Donghyuck slumps against his window as he watches smoke rising in the far distance, already knowing where it’s coming from. Like a mirror image of his older brother, tear tracks make their way down his face as he buries his head in his arms.

“What have I done?”

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

Text

NaruHina Fic Concepts IDK when I'll ever get to:

Age Difference one-shots

20yo!Naruto/31yo!Hinata (leaning towards Hinata being a Landlady. Maybe Naruto is a college student that just moved in. Or maybe he's a squatter that catches her by surprise when she's doing a showing of the apartment, and then suddenly cancels, to the annoyance of her prospective tenants. And so as to not get him in trouble with police, she makes an arrangement with him and helps him get his life together. So one standard romance route and one that's pretty much genderbent Higehiro lol).

My "Jealousy" story expanded

A "during the timeskip" short stories series (only 2 good ones so far)

14yo!Hinata gets isekai'd into a Modern AU and Naruto is 20yos. They go on a road trip to try and get her back home. She plays off his assumption that she is a runaway who regrets leaving home in order to spend more time with him than she deserves, all because she was missing her own Naruto so badly. (I had a fic like this from Naruto's perspective but then deleted it twice and wrote Powerless in its place, because it wasn't working. Probably better to write it from her POV instead. Still thought if Hinata had enough chakra to perform ninjutsu in front of a normal Naruto that it would freak him out and be really interesting, but alas. Also she needs to conserve her chakra or she can't return home. Idk if in such a situation her chakra would fail to naturally resupply or not, but the obvs the stakes would be even higher if she couldn't.)

KonoGakuenDen!Hinata's love letter travels between dimensions and lands at 15yo Naruto's feet while he's still training with Jiraiya. (Has this been written? I just thought of this one).

Modern AU: Hinata's family runs a seaside inn and Naruto is a regular patron. She assumes his female friends are his girlfriends and that she has no business wanting to be wanted by him. (Loosely and indirectly inspired by "Goodbye Tsugumi" by Banana Yoshimoto)

Genderbent AUs

This is an oldie from 2010? Modern AU, RTN!Hinata is disowned from her family after trying to protect Hanabi from RTN!Neji. She sleeps around with other women who provide her a place to stay, eventually falling in love with Naruko who is also equally promiscuous. The next day Naruko is nowhere to be found, but there's a male lookalike cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Naruko never told her she had a male twin and Hinata's acquired hatred/distrust of men causes a lot of conflict between the two of them. (NaruHina = enemies to friends to lovers. I would make it NaruHinaNaruko but maybe that's actually weird, idk haha).

Another one I did a huge sketchdump on back in 2010: Modern AU, everyone canon but Naruko. Didn't even have a plot for this. Just wanted to write about a soft butch!Naruko chasing after the seemingly unattainable Hyuga Hinata. 😆

Secret Lovers AUs

Story No Longer Available: Okay, I originally wanted to write my own separate version of my Foster Sibling AU to be where they actually try dating in secret during High School, but I'm letting that idea go and hoping another excuse-- I mean premise comes to me. I'm still trying to write the Foster Sibling AU in adherence to the incomplete Secret Santa plot, so that version is still going to be a thing.

I guess this counts as Fake Dating as well, and I may have written a post about this last year already: Modern AU, Sakura, Ino and Hinata are on Summer break from college in the capital and roadtripping to visit Sasuke and Naruto in a coastal city. Naruto still likes Sakura, Hinata is still faintly interested in Naruto, etc. Sakura catches a cold during the trip and the 4 of them go have fun in another city without her. A regular daytrip concludes rauceously with drunken karaoke and a round of Punishment Games (aka Betting and the loser has to do this or that). When Hinata loses and has to make-out with Sasuke, the context somehow gets rewritten in Naruto's inebriated head and he thinks they have the hots for each other. All of a sudden he stops caring about getting with Sakura, and adopts a dogma to protect Hinata's virtue. The only way he decides he can do that is if he is the one dating her.

High Fantasy AU

Naruto is the half-blood son of The Captain of the Royal Guard and a Pagan Witch (the isle of Uzushio was obtained through conquest, their people assimmilated and seemingly tolerated by the Court, but otherwise distrusted by the common folk. An Uzushio Resistance Army hides in secret and are wanted by the Kingdom). The Uchiha are Wood Elves who used to serve the Kingdom but were betrayed and exiled. They only roam at night to trade with the Dwarves of Iron Kingdom. Sakura is a human travelling with her Venture-motivated Father and henpecking Mother. They settle in with the Dwarves in an Outpost town where her father has accepted a job. Sakura, being bookish and brainy, has no chance of fitting in with the brawny Dwarves. She eventually abandons her true self to prove her mettle, and when she shows off strength in the only way Dwarves care about, she's heartily accepted. Back at the Leaf Kingdom, Naruto's Knighthood training has only been going downhill since he began. When his flaring temper unleashes powerful magic and injures one of the boys harassing him, he's banished. Minato asks Kakashi to accompany his son into the wilderness, where his journey brings him to Sakura and then Sasuke. The Hyuga are High Elves and their first born Hinata is approaching her Coming of Age Ceremony. Royalty from all realms have been invited to attend. Naruto and his companions have by now fashioned themselves into a ragtag group of mercenaries. Knowing that his parents will be at the ceremony, Naruto worms his way into a bodyguarding job for an Acting Troupe that will perform in front of Royalty. He falls for the beautiful High Elf Hinata and attempts to visit her in her chambers. (I have 2 ideas for which way the plot could go. Ugh. Either she is married off to Toneri, or she has to devote the rest of her life to praying in front of the tree that seals away Kaguya. Either way, Naruto chooses to convince her to say 'fuck that' to her obligations, and when she gives in, a dark prophecy is fulfilled. And yadda yadda yadda, Hero's Journey and stuff).

That feels like everything I ever thought of. 😅 I can't be sure if I'm missing another Secret Lovers/Fake Dating concept, but oh well. I feel pretty satisfied with this list.

#naruhina #fanfiction concept #sharing my ideas once again because I just like to #short stories is something I will try to be good at #it's the only way most of these will ever get written lol

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