#he’s like my grandfather that I pay for advice

[bisansastarks]

My brain is so cooked right now and even if I could find the words to explain it my 84 year old therapist recently fell and got a head injury and was in the hospital for two weeks and will have two weeks more of PT.

#im really worried this man will die and I just won’t know??? #he’s been my therapist since I was sixteen #he’s like my grandfather that I pay for advice

[rachalixie]

forgive me for what i haven't done

summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.

genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort

warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence

word count: 17.5k

a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.

you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen. 

it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too. 

you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.

the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms. 

“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”

“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”

the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.

“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”

his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.

“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”

“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”

and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-

“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”

your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.

“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”

betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.

the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone. 

the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head. 

he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak. 

“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it. 

his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes. 

“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin. 

“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.

“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”

“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”

he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors. 

he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.

“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”

his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.

“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.

“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?

“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”

“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home. 

“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”

the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer. 

“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”

you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.

a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself. 

when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.

you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.

even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.

“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate. 

“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold. 

your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly. 

“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”

“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”

it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure. 

the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.

your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people. 

the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.

you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think. 

your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.

here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds. 

no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it. 

you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.

“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.

“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”

you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.

“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”

“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.

“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards. 

“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.” 

“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.

“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.

“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice. 

“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”

“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?

“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”

“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”

“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”

his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.

“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”

the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father. 

“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.

“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.

“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.

“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”

“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.” 

felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.

“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”

“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”

“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.

as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.

“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”

his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty. 

“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”

felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response. 

“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”

“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”

felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends. 

“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.” 

his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.

“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.

“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual. 

“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”

it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you. 

“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”

you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all. 

the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.

“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”

the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.

it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked. 

a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”

it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.

“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”

“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”

“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.” 

you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.

“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.” 

“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”

“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”

he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?

you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.

before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head. 

you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering. 

it’s given you a lot to think about.

as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.

you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention. 

a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.

“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”

“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you. 

“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable. 

“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…” 

he trails off, looking down shyly. 

“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?

“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”

“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously. 

“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”

“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.

“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.

“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”

“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space. 

“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”

“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.

“your mother would be proud.”

as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.

you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him. 

his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug. 

he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions. 

“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump. 

“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.

“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”

“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”

“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”

“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath. 

“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”

he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety. 

maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.

he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.

a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower. 

you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.

“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”

“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”

how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?

“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”

“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses. 

“likewise,” you smile at him. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch. 

there is no escape.

the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp. 

in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.

“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.

his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you. 

“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time. 

you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything. 

as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.

in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.

you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.

you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.

a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day. 

a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances. 

a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside. 

your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.

as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you. 

the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.

the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.

and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance. 

when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.

“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.

“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.

“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.

you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.

you let out a horrid scream.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend. 

you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.

he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.

“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.

you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over. 

“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time. 

“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.” 

“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”

a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.

“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”

“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”

“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children. 

“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”

“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him. 

“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”

you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.

“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help. 

every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.

“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them. 

“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”

his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.

“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”

“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”

leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.

“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him. 

“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”

your king, he said. not your father. 

he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.

“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”

when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.

you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.

“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.

“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.

“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.

“yes.”

“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.

“i know,” you sigh.

“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“

“i know.”

“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”

“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.

“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”

“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.

“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”

“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”

“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”

“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.

“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”

“i am scared,” you wobble out.

“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”

“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him. 

“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”

he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.

the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.

your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.

“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused. 

“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.” 

“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.

you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance. 

there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.

you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.

“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous. 

“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”

“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”

“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”

“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”

“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”

“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath. 

“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”

you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.

“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”

“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”

“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer. 

“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.

“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”

“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.

“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again. 

“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”

“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”

“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.” 

“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.

“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.

“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”

“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”

“i will be.”

so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.

you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.

but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?

you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences. 

stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him. 

“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.

“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh, 

“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”

it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on. 

“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now. 

“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”

he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.

“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?” 

he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood. 

“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?

you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention. 

perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.  

when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry. 

“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”

“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.

“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.

“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”

“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”

“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.

“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”

“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”

you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t. 

“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”

you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.

“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”

your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.

“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes. 

“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob. 

“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”

you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.

it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.

chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you. 

felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.

you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.

falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.

you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.

by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family. 

you had no one. and it was your own doing.

you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere. 

you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,

you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -

“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls. 

“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”

“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”

“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”

you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.

he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.

“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”

“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin. 

you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own. 

no.

your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere. 

he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free. 

you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl. 

“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.

you raise the knife. 

a moment of tense silence. 

and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name. 

when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.

you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.

“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them. 

you look horrible.

you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind. 

the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall. 

“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.

“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in. 

“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own. 

“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.

“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”

his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart. 

“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”

“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”

“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”

“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification. 

“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”

“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”

“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?” 

“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”

jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.

“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”

“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better. 

you stayed.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.

“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”

“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”

“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”

you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.

it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience. 

felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.

you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into. 

“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.

“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.

“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”

but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit. 

“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.

“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”

“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”

you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side. 

“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice. 

“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”

you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.

“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”

you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.

“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.” 

your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness. 

“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face. 

───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───

it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.

your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.

the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone. 

it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.

the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne. 

you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle. 

you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think. 

you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.  

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee felix fluff #lee felix imagines #felix x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids hurt/comfort #lee felix x reader #lee felix x you #lee felix x y/n #lee felix fanfic #felix imagines

[impyssadobsessions]

Excerpts from my WIPS ;3 Guess Which story and when- or if its a story even up. If ya want.

----DPxDC

“Keep communication lines on, we'll be moving towards your location.” Batman had replied, which made Nightwing clicked his teeth. “How much should I bet you're not going to do that?” Dick turned to ask Jason as both of them hopped off the bike. “Do what? I didn't hear anything.” “Okay, so a hundred at least.” Nightwing hummed, as he followed Red-Hood back towards the abandon lab.

----DPxDC

"-One time she sent DASH! To babysit ME! I'm older than both of them now. Y'know how awkward that was? Though the look on Dash's face was hilarious.” Dick smirked, raising a brow. “The guy that bullied you? Why did she ask him?” “Ah, probably because he's a puppy that'll do whatever my sister asks. She knows it too.” Danny clicked his tongue as his face grimaced at the implications of it. “I may or may not have... scared him a few times. I do like a disappearing act.” Dick grinned as he could imagine what Danny meant. He did seem to take any form of “keeping tabs” on him as a challenge. Danny smirked back, a mischievous glint in his eye, before dropping his face. “Jazz was REALLY upset about it. I had assumed this was her being overbearing and protective like usual-I didn't realize how hard this was on her.” The guilt thick in his throat. “She broke down crying and.. I promised her I'll stay out of the house when she's not home. 'Cause I didn't know what to do.. or say. I just..” “Thought of the easiest solution?” “Yeah... I guess.” Danny shrugged, defeated.

---------DPxDC

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shouldn't you be resting, sir?” Alfred scolded. A small amused smirk on his lips as he carried lunch on a tray. Bruce just made a grunt. His eyes glued to the screen of the laptop. Images, news articles, videos. Whatever he could find was displayed on the screen, while he bit at the end of his pencil. A notepad next to him. “Ah yes, very informative answer, Master Bruce.” Alfred set down the tray on the nightstand beside his bed. There was more than just lunch on the tray as it carried a medical kit. Bruce sighed. He shoved the laptop to the side and struggled to sit up more so Alfred could replace his dressing. “This whole situation just crawls under my skin.” “I say it does, sir.” Alfred's hands move quickly to help replace the doctor's handy work. “Secret government organization, children in peril, and the boarder between life and death getting thinner by the day. Certainly sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

---------BULLY

Pete glanced back up at Mr. Smith. The man was eyeing him carefully, waiting for a reply. He must care about Gary in some way to go through this much trouble, right? And... it would be easier to contact Gary's grandfather than dealing with the headmaster. Pete bit his lip as he thought. “Um, Okay. S-sure.” “Atta boy! Hahaha!” Allen laughed as he smacked his hand on Pete's shoulder, making him stumble. Pete really needed to work on not being pushed around so easily. “Though, if you can mange to keep little Garreth in line, I'll add in a little bonus for your trouble. Since you're doing more than half what I was paying this damn school to do.” “That's not-” “Some good advice. Never work for free, Pete. Consider it a token of gratitude. After all, I think we both know watching my grandson isn't an easy task.” Allen winked.

--------DPXDC

Tim had no idea how he was going to pull this off. His eyes glancing from the Fenton parents to the boy he met yesterday, Danny Fenton. He knew he was dead. At least, was ghostly in some way. Danny didn't act or looked how Greta did, but Greta was visible as Deadman wasn't. So perhaps ghosts varied drastically? Either way, Danny being dead wasn't even the part that was bothering him. It was knowing he had to pretend he didn't know- while Danny sat right next to his oblivious killers. Well, the word killer might be too harsh. Tim theorized it was an accident regarding with a portal that opened on top of Danny. Which might also explain Danny's unique qualities.

---------DPxDC

“...Danny has traces of... Lazarus pit... stronger than yours.” Tim answered, with a concerned tone. They were afraid of how Jason would take it. And Jason was not taking it well, as he felt cold rage deep in his veins. The icy chill as he acknowledged that not only was Danny his blood... he shared the worse part of his blood. The reminder that they... Had died. Those scars... that was how Danny died and so far knowing their luck, he doubted it was painless. “Little Wing? Jay bird? You there, I'm almost at your location. How's Danny?” Dick called on the comms. Jason pulled the boy more into his jacket, giving him the best attempt of a hug he could. “Better than the fuckers who did this to him will be.”

------DPXDC

Danny had made an unfortunate discovery. His powers, like all ghosts, were based on emotion. Other's emotions. Even worse, the strongest one was fear. Fear fed on itself and grew stronger and stronger. And what made him discover this, made his heart sink with dread. He was stuck powerless in Gotham as his friends were laughing themselves to death along with other hostages in the room. Danny cursed at himself for listening to Sam. He should have phased them out of there, regardless of Batman's no meta rule. Now the only fear emitting into the room was his own. They were too far from others for him to feed off of, and ectoplasm was low. No.. more like the ectoplasm was being pulled away from the ground of Gotham and seeping into some other being that was far too greedy. “Well, well, well~ Look what we have here? A little party pooper!” A man with green hair and clown painted face cackled, as he waltz his way over to Danny. The black-hair teen ripped his eyes from his friends, glaring at the man. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist, while he stayed knelt over his friends. “Funny, most parties I've seen at least has music.” Danny was feeling sweat dripping off his face. He needed to do something fast, but if he couldn't transform.. then he wasn't sure what else he isn't able to do. Not like this man looked fit, but... Danny knew danger when he sees it. “Ah, but this is music! To my ears at least, ehehehehe!”

----------CAMP CAMP

“Ah. Smell that, Gwen?” “Smell what.” “That fresh breeze! We had gone a full twenty-four hours without a single camp activity catching on fire.” “Huh, I guess you're right! This camp only smells half as shitty-” “Where's Max?” Both Gwen and David utter out in realization as it had dawn that neither of them had seen the troublesome trio since breakfast. --- “Don't worry Max! We'll save you once I finish chewing off my leg-” “Nikki! DON'T!” “Well... I'm fucked.”

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dcxdp #dp x dc #writing excerpt #peter kowalski #rockstar bully #bully scholarship edition #campcamp #campcampbell #impyelam #WIP #I just wanted to show some snippets #long post #jason todd #dick grayson #jazz fenton #danny fenton #bruce wayne #tim drake #crossover #fanfic

[mykneeshurt]

hi!! happy new year!! 💗

I love ur writing, and I was thinking to drop this request;

so may request some hc’s of cod task force 141 (+ alejandro, könig, graves and rudy) :))

feel free to skip this if youre busy, just wondering, happy new year :)

Sorry this one took me some time, I got too in my head about it. It was so hard to not be bitchy to Graves lmfao, Soap is my favourite enjoy! SFW. Let me know if you want NSFW ones

Price 🥃

He supports Liverpool FC, no I won’t hear any different

His favourite non-alcoholic drink is ‘builders tea’

Glenfiddich 18 is his Whisky of choice

Favourite colour is khaki green

Is the father figure of the group, strong, reliable, approachable (everything my dad wasn’t lmfao, I still love him)

He wears a plain t-shirt pyjamas to bed, sleeps on his side, one arm under his head, absolutely snores

His favourite breed of dog is a Collie, or any working dog he can walk for miles for in the country side

He absolutely loves Bargain Hunt on TV

His favourite smell is fresh gingerbread

He’d make an excellent grandfather tbh

Soap 🧼

Despite being Scottish he supports Blackburn FC, an underdog (I refuse to comment on the Celtic vs Rangers, far too much history there. And I’m Welsh, it ent for me to say haah)

He absolutely loves winding the boys up about being English

His text tone is SCOTLAND FOREVVAAAA *aggressive bagpipes*

Soap 100% sleeps in the buff

His favourite dog would be a Labrador, nice active family friendly dog

He’s a chatterbox but a good listener when he needs to be, will often give some surprisingly good advice

He’s an iPhone wanker

Absolutely a mummy’s boy, would do anything for her - he’d love to pay off her mortgage for her

His favourite smell is the cheesy paws of his dog for real

He’s not a morning person, he loves a lie in when he can

Ghost 💀

Ghost supports Manchester City, he just gives me those vibes ok?

His favourite weather is rain/storms

When he’s home from a mission he’s a bath guy, he showers all the time on base, so when he’s home it’s hot ass bath with an audio book and his bourbon

He has two cats that his neighbour looks after when he’s away, two British blue shorthairs. Called Foxtrot and Whiskey

He also loves rabbits

He loves helping beginners at the gym

His favourite tv show is The Simpsons, something easy and colourful to watch to distract him from what he’s seen

He smells like Dior Suvage (anything musky and heavy)

He’s ambidextrous

He loves a cooked dinner, beef, roast potatoes, all the veg, stuffing and all the Yorkshire puddings

He’s got his tongue pierced, I’ve seen the fan art. You can’t tell me other wise.

Gaz 🇬🇧

He gives me Arsenal vibes, so he supports them

But also supports Chicago Bears in American Football

He’s gentle, reserved so he’d have a rat as a pet, highly intelligent

Fish and chips with curry sauce is his favourite meal, a proper British geeza

He smells fresh, think a bright spring day, fresh linen and cut grass

He loves the sunshine

He’s a keen gardener, grows his own herbs and vegetables

His house is spotless, minimalist, but has a huge book collection

He loves caramel lattes despite the banter from the boys, he has a sweet tooth

Loves meeting the boys down the pub on a Sunday for a carvery

Alejandro 🌹

He’s an excellent cook, his favourite hobby when not on a mission is trying out new recipes for Los Vaqueros

This man sleeps in silk sheets, tell me he doesn’t?

He’s fiercely loyal his country, he loves Mexico and is passionate about it through and through

He’s got a great sense of humour, enjoys making people laugh

He runs marathons for charity in his spare time

His favourite subject in school was history

If you’re sad this man gives the best hugs, he’ll make you a strong ass coffee and give one hell of a pep talk

His favourite smell is fresh cocoa beans, always stealing the nibs to eat

Him and Rudy have film nights with their families when they’re home

He’s 100% a girl dad, teaches her how to shoot with nerf guns in the garden

Rudy ❤️

He has a German Vizsla called Pollito, because her legs look like chicken drumsticks

He 100% has an android phone

He’s an armature photographer in his spare time, he loves nature

He and Alejandro have personalised ringtones for each other

His favourite food is Seafood paella

He owns a small farm, sells the produce to the local area, he loves animals

He once won a poetry competition

His favourite colour is orange

Sorry but he wears lynx Africa (I like it sue me)

He likes to game in his spare time, anything from farm simulator to RPGs

König 👑

He loves drawing, anything creative, he’ll draw/paint the Austrian countryside to de-stress

He grew up on a small farm in the Austrian mountains, he has a very close family

He doesn’t like large crowds, worried people stare at him because of his height, feels claustrophobic sometimes

He bites his nails when his hands aren’t busy or covered by gloves

He’s a cat guy 100%

He’s left handed, 100% a lefty but holds his gun right handed (its a struggle, I’m left handed)

He’d like a family one day, he’s got a lot of love to give

He smells like leather, sandalwood and vanilla

He loves eating raw cookie dough, vanilla and chocolate chip

He holds the record for the hardest punch in his home town

Graves 🇺🇸

His favourite holiday is July 4th, he does a huge fireworks display whenever he’s home

His favourite food is Gumbo

He smells like Paco Rabane Invictus

He’s got 3 Dobermans, whom he loves with all his heart. Ben, Jacob and Molly

He has a white picket fence - obviously

He doesn’t have a good relationship with his father, daddy forced him into the army to gain approval

He sleeps in red plaid pyjamas and has matching slippers

He’s fluent in French, he learnt it to pick up girls

He loves hiking in his spare time, with his 3 dogs

He runs support groups for veterans on a Thursday a local library

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #john soap mactavish #soap mctavish #phillip graves #alejandro vargas #Alejandro #rudy mw2 #rudolfo parra #könig modern warfare #könig #könig cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #captain price #captain john price #john price #headcanon #call of duty ghost simon riley #modern warefare 2 #simon riley

[yowyowyaoi]

Kakuzu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Tobi

I paid already!

I didn’t break it that was Senpai!

Please Kakuzu-san come look at it, that plant made my arms so itchy 😓

If Itachi can have one why can’t I ?!

How old do YOU think I am 🤪

Don’t worry I didn’t buy it I “borrowed” it 

You don’t need to get so mad, I know how to fix it!

From Zetsu

Please inform your partner that it’s MY job to dispose of the bodies, and I don’t appreciate him interfering with my meals.

I did the scouting, he’s in that small village with the lake in the middle, house with a red roof.

You keep the money, I’m only interested in his head.

YOU try talking to her when she’s in one of her moods!

I truly appreciate your “finding” that artificial sun lamp for me. The winter should be much more bearable now.

From Konan

No more excuses. I made your favorite and you WILL come and eat.

Oh he did? Funny how this is the FOURTH time he’s made this “mistake” this month. 

I need a bigger budget than that. Have you not seen how much these guys eat?? 😒

All three of them? Together? Are you sure that’s wise? 

No more recruits unless absolutely necessary. Money aside I simply cannot “adjust” to one more person in this organization.

“Grandfather” is a bit exaggerated; you’re much too handsome for that, my friend 😏

Of course I appreciate the help but you did NOT have to kill him! 

Please come and join us. It’s a documentary but I know you’ll like it.

I’ve tried to be patient but I’m done asking. My next warning will be paper-cuts to their jugulars. 😡

From Sasori

Overexertion and poor nutrition isn’t doing a man your age any favors.

He said *I* started it? Tell him to watch himself before I decide to END it as well.

Boyfriends or babysitters? 😂

I finished the first two volumes, I highlighted the parts I thought you’d find most useful.

He needed it tightened so I’ll be sending him to you when you have a moment.

If you truly wanted one I could work on building one for you. It would be a version of my Hiroku.

Why would I contribute to that? I don’t eat.

From Itachi

I think I need a new prescription, everything is blurry again.

Thank you, I appreciate the advice.

You were sleeping so I slid the money under your door.

If he does it again I’m using my eyes and tormenting him for 72 hours 😡

Borrow it any time you like. I think we have the same hair type so mine should work great for you.

What meowing? 👀

It wasn’t that much blood don’t worry.

Kisame’s carrying him, I have Deidara.

Not really. It’s a spectrum, right?

Honestly? No. He’ll probably shred it with that scythe of his.

From Nagato

Did you pay the electric bill?

Did you pay the heating bill?

Did you pay the water bill?

You didn’t kill the bill collector did you ?

If they caused the damage, it comes from their checks.

If he feeds it himself I don’t mind.

The eye drops help a lot, thanks.

No we’ve discussed this. Anyone else, fine. But Konan NEVER sees a single bill. Understood?

If the punishment is within reason, yes. Don’t go overboard; remember they’re not immortal like you.

From Deidara

That wasn’t my fault, it was Tobi!!

My clay is an important part of my job so you should pay for it.

Can’t you gag him? I’m legit having nightmares over the sounds he makes 😣

It was only once and I didn’t break anything!

Can I get the money to you next week?

Hidan broke that guys arms and made him scream! THAT’S what got us caught, NOT my bombs 😡

He’s lying I wasn’t even in the room!

Please can you tighten the stitching? Sasori won’t do it because he’s mad I was “reckless”.

Can you just come help me pick one out? I have no idea what kind of medical books he likes.

I swear I’ll fix it before she notices, pls don’t tell her she hits so hard 😢

From Kisame

You wanna do the weights or the jog first?

Please make him think it was your idea. If he knows I sent him to you he’ll get upset.

You can eat it. I don’t want to insult his cooking but I truly dislike liver.

No, Samehada is trained better than that. 

We ate there last week. Itachi loved it but I’m not sure it’s Hidan’s type of place 🤔

From Hidan

Don’t overeat last time you got that cramp remember?

You sure didn’t seem to mind it last night …

There’s literally no point it just gets all bloody again at some point anyway right?

Wtf? No. That was completely blondie and the orange dumbass.

I’m not complaining but damn you’re a freaky old bastard aren’t you 😏🤤

Damn you just go rest. That fucking bounty can WAIT you asshole you’re gonna kill yourself 😡

Ffs Uchiha doesn’t need to come we don’t need a babysitter we’re both grown!!

Yeah but you never say No so what’s that say about YOU? 

Stop fucking with me don’t think I won’t turn this entire house inside out until I get that necklace back 😒

If I say Yes am I in more trouble or less? 🤔

If I tell her the truth she’s just gonna tear my head off and really that’s just more work for YOU.

Gay. But same 🖤

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAKUZU!!! #kakuzu #texting #the akatsuki #kakuhida #kakuzu x hidan #🖤🖤 #hidan #nagato #konan #deidara #tobi #zetsu #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #sasori #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Oh No! Here Comes Trouble Character Meta: Guangyan

Your Honor, I have no excuse for any of this. I live by the meta and die by the meta, and the storytelling in this show is so phenomenal…the thing is, there is sooo much to look at in this drama. I’d like to thank @avenuex123 for her video talking about it, because it sold me on trying the show for the first time (she does amazing drama reviews if you haven’t watched her on YouTube yet). I wanted to start out with these characters by exploring Guangyan—to be completely frank, my favorite character—because I think that in a way he experiences the most development in the series; his whole life and worldview change, and he goes from prioritizing his identity as a standoffish and praise-seeking overachiever to being a loyal and empathetic friend to Chuying and soulmate to Yiyong.

(tbh the resemblance between Yiyong and Guangyan and Elphaba and Galinda in Wicked CANNOT be overstated, look at the lyrics from “What is this Feeling?” and “For Good” and tell me that’s not their arc right there)

Ahem.

Let’s explore Guangyan through his various identities in this show.

I want to be clear at the start that although the show is not explicitly written as a BL, I do see queer undertones in his relationship with Yiyong, and that does inform my meta. Regardless of any kinds of undertones, this relationship right here is the best development of the entire series.

The Medical Student

I start here because this is one of the first things that Guangyan introduced himself with, something that he initially thinks makes him better than Yiyong, and in the last scene where he and Guangyan actually talk, it’s the thing that he wants Yiyong’s advice on pursuing. You know how you consult your calligraphy friends for pre-med advice?

Confession: I get Guangyan’s whole attitude at the start of the show. I hate it but I get it. Because I’ve been that overachiever kid (right down to the clothes, swear to god) and it’s really tempting, especially if you are younger, insecure, and/or starting out somewhere, to define yourself by and remind everyone about your most successful identity, regardless of whether it’s something you care about. Anyone who’s worn a mask of their own accomplishments knows that it’s a double edged sword—it traps you in an image, a state of being, in the minds of others.

And that is why I LOVE Guangyan’s developing interest in Forensic Medicine near the end of the show— because this is something he didn’t just choose to look good or respectable or worthy of praise, this is a really long road (just looking at the years of school required in my country), this is something he’s choosing because it can help make a difference, it can help with investigations Yiyong and Chuying work on.

The Boy Next Door

Yes, this is where my queer meta begins and doesn’t end. Apologies to Chuying, she doesn’t get much mention in this post but she will get her own whole post soon.

So.

Guangyan’s relationship with Yiyong literally changes the course of his life. He is such a different person by the end of the series—granted, he’s still fussy and the pastel tsundere of the pre-meds, but he has actual friends, he is honest about what he’s feeling, he has dreams for the future, and he’s kinder, rather than just nice. I need season 2 for many reasons, one of which is that I need Guangyan trying to become a supernatural CSI.

But this “bully” turned neighbor turned friend had that effect on him. Yiyong never told him to change, but Guangyan changed himself through his interactions with Yiyong. He’s becoming someone who wants to help people in a career that won’t be as automatically praised as a doctor. Find yourself someone who challenges your ideas and makes you reevaluate your ego while still believing you’re smart and good at things.

Ah yes, the Simping for A Hooligan Smile.

But importantly, this very quick bit right near the end of the show, when Guangyan pays his respects to Yiyong’s father and grandfather and shows them one of Yiyong’s comics he has saved on his phone, which even Yiyong’s mother giggles over as looking stupid…and there’s the drawing he snuck away that Yiyong did earlier in the series, as his phone cover…and with that bit there’s this:

Give me one heterosexual explanation for that. ONE.

But like I said, in the bigger picture it’s about the growth that is really key to seeing what Yiyong and Guangyan have changed about each other.

The reluctant frenemy ally…

becomes this:

I love the idea that Guangyan is around Yiyong’s house so much now that he is this comfortable just chilling, and I love that he’s mirroring Yiyong completely here—he could be in a chair, he could be sitting propped against the wall, but he’s chosen to lie down next to Yiyong like they’re still sharing a bed.

The Denial Expert

The show handles it sooo well—it never outright says, “Guangyan has so bought into this serious student-image that he refuses to let himself have things he really wants,” but we see evidence of it in every single episode. Actions: he won’t get a taxi when he needs one, he won’t admit to Yiyong that he’s a fan, he refuses the big bedroom bc he claims his father needs it for remote work. Possessions: he loves the amusement park toy that Yiyong won for him and attaches it to his bag, he thinks the doll is cute, he even hides his sneakily acquired Yiyong comics. Taste: he is the only one to love the cupcake made by the evil baker, and it’s only when he’s supposedly “following the kidnapping suspect” during the amusement park date with Yiyong that he eagerly order a parfait for himself and debates getting himself ice cream. You know, to blend in.

Local Housecat Wastes Time and Money in Company of Exasperated Puppy

It’s the little things—getting a bandana hand-made for him, tagging along with Yiyong to the cemetery (he so didn’t need the walking stick, you just know it was for the adventurous aesthetic), even him slowly taking more of the blanket to share as he grows more comfortable with Yiyong sharing his bed—all these things that show his growth in these episodes.

Pu Yiyong’s Comics Fan

GOSH ITS ALMOST LIKE COMICS ARE A METAPHOR OR SOMETHING

(Sorry)

Anyway. It’s just so important that Guangyan is the only person to really see Yiyong as an artist. Like most things Yiyong cares about, he doesn’t talk much about this passion of his; in the scene where they are writing their career plans in school, we see Yiyong is hesitant to write “cartoonist.” But he loves it, it’s something he’s put time and effort into building. And Guangyan is quite literally the only person who likes—loves—his art. Even his friends only support his website to be supportive. Anyway, I’m hoping in season 2 (which has to happen please please please) Yiyong finally finds out about his fan.

#whomst #oh no! here comes trouble #yiyong x guangyan

[the-desilittle-bird]

Greens win AU are my favorite ones and honestly the story intrigues me and I liked the fact you made the reader realistic-tired and numb(who can blame her) and Aemond is so cocky about himself that I want to slap him, grovel for reader's forgiveness.

I wouldn't mind a part 2 of Crimson Lady—where she rules beside Aemond, challenging the patriarchal norms and ensures the peace her mother wanted:she proves she's a good ruler much to the Green's dismay and tries to change the law of succession to allow also girls to rule.

Aemond would be supportive because she has never seen her and any other woman less.

A thing I notice is that she never smiled, a perfect parallel to Aegon III from Fire and Blood-I can see Aemond fighting desperately to earn her forgiveness, to see her smile again ignoring Otto's advices and attempts to manipulate him.

He tries to be a good husband, but to no avail, her attitute doesn't change but she seems only happy with her brother so Aemond decided to bring Baela and Rhaena at court annnd to find her baby brother Viserys and bring him to her.

Would be kinda tragic if before the war the reader tries to remain Aemond's friend but he's cold and unforgiving and now the roles have switched.

The reader doesn't smile, she only wears black and never calls him on his first name but your majesty.

Just my thoughts,eh, I like this Au, kinda depressing😪

Author's Note- Thanks for the request. I had been thinking of a way of moving the story forward but was a bit clueless at first, but after your request, I had a clear idea. Hope you like it and it is upto your expectations. Do not fret to leave another request if you wish for. And I decided to make the end a bit less disappointing since I wished for (Y/N) and Aemond to be happy after all they have been through.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Crimson Queen

Summary- The war had it impacts and the acts of horrors had to be put aside to move on in their lives...

Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666 , @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26 , @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy , @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr, @themaze13

GIF Credits to @bobahwrites

Two long moons had passed and the realm as well as the council had suffered several drastic changes. Most of the council members were changed; taxes reduced to the half of what the people had to pay; new trade alliances were made with the Free Cities. And the biggest of them was the allowance of a female heir. All under the reign of Aemond Targaryen and (Y/N) Targaryen.

Wed for almost two moons, the couple were yet to have a real conversation. While Aemond had tried to make amends with the former princess, (Y/N) had only replied with curt replies.

Aemond only found her softening in the presence of the common people and her younger brother Aegon, flashing an occasional smile when he wasn't in her sight.

The people called her the Blessed Queen, much to Aemond's mother and grandfather's dismay. He had always let her take the charge of the realm, letting her give the final verdicts and decide.

Aemond liked how (Y/N) would command the attention of each and every person in the room without even uttering a single word. But the distances in between them only pained him even more.

"I was wondering if we could bring Rhaena and Baela to court," Aemond said, sitting in the chair beside the fireplace. His eye carefully studied his wife's face as she glanced up from her book. "They are safe where they are," she replied strictly.

Aemond hummed, leaning in a bit. "They are, but I was thinking that they should be here, in the court, as they are the Queen's half-sister," Aemond tried to reason. (Y/N) looked up, setting her book aside. "Is it a part of your mother's plan? Or perhaps of your grandfather?" (Y/N) asked, standing up and walking to the balcony.

"Let me assure you, (Y/N). I am part of no plan of theirs," Aemond said, standing up and joining her on the balcony. (Y/N) sighed, her eyes casted down at her hands. "How can I trust you, your grace?" The Crimson Lady asked, her voice monotone with no feelings.

"You can leave the formalities aside, (Y/N)," Aemond said softly, placing a hand on her back. (Y/N) jerked back as his hand touched her back, eyes wide in paranoia. "Our very marriage is a formality, your grace," she said, wrapping her hands around herself.

Aemond swallowed down the lump in his throat, head slowly lowering as his mind processed the silent resignation. "I will be in my chambers, if you need me, my lady." With the words hanging in the silence of the room, Aemond left the queen with a single glance over his shoulder.

The council room was yet again in a fit of chaos as everyone seemed to shout and cut each other. Only the silent ones were Aemond, (Y/N) and their new hand, Cregan Stark.

Aemond watched as (Y/N) shared a glance with Cregan, before slamming her fist on the table, making everyone stop abruptly. "My Queen?" The master of laws asked, his eyes wide. "I would say that the taxes which are leveled on the common people are just fine."

"But what of the treasury, my queen? How are you thinking to pay the extravagant cost of maintaining the court?" Otto hissed, trying to disguise his frustration. "The extravagant cost of the court, along with other things can be afforded with the amount of taxes we are receiving currently, my lord. I recommend you and the council try to remove the corrupt middle men to avoid the shortage of money."

Otto and Alicent, along with the Lannister representative of the West, looked at (Y/N) with disapproving gaze while the others present in the room nodded understandingly. Everyone were aware of the corrupted middle men who seemingly took a part of the taxes for themselves and gave only the remaining to the royalty.

"Master of coins, will the suggestion made by the Queen work?" Aemond asked, his eye trained on the man who calculated something in his notebook before looking up with a smile. "If my calculations are accurate, my king, then almost 16% of the taxes are missing and if we are able to get the complete percent of the common people's taxes, then everything will work perfectly."

This only fueled the growing frown on the Greens' faces, which seemed to make Corlys Velaryon and the Wolf Lord smirk wider, as they looked at their queen with pride.

"Then, we know what you are supposed to do," Aemond said, his words laced with finality. The men nodded before (Y/N) respectfully dismissed them, before following them out; leaving Otto, Alicent and Aemond in the room.

"Poison her like you poisoned Aegon," Alicent broke the silence, making Aemond's jaw drop to the floor. "She is my lady wife, mother," Aemond replied, his gaze moving to the Valyrian ring in his ring finger. "Your and the bastard Queen's marriage is yet to be consummated. Poison her and marry someone of your choice, son. Perhaps, that Alys River."

Aemond's body stiffened as his former lover's name slipped out from his mother's mouth. "She is my wife and I shall do no such thing, mother. You should be aware of it," Aemond said, glaring at his mother and standing up. "Where do you think you are going, grandson? We are not done yet," Otto said with authority as he watched Aemond move towards the exit.

"But this conversation is over for me, Lord Hightower." Aemond slammed the door shut behind him, leaving a stunned Otto and a tear-filled Alicent sitting in the council chamber.

"Sister!" (Y/N) heard someone yell from behind her as she walked in the garden. The Dragon Queen turned to find herself engulfed in a hug. She felt the strong smell of salty sea water and books fill her nostrils. "Rhaena?" She asked in disbelief.

Another pair of hands hugged her from behind, making her head snap back to find Baela, hugging her closely. "Baela? You two are here?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes wide with disbelief, tears brimming in her eyes. "Aemond send for us to be taken to here," Rhaena said with a soft smile.

"Aemond?" (Y/N) let a frown take over her features, but it didn't make home for long as she was reunited with her family. "Yes, but why are you wearing black?" Baela said, as she parted to take her in.

(Y/N) sighed, something she has been doing commonly now. "Sister, you don't seem happy. Is something the matter?" Rhaena said with concern, making (Y/N) let out a breath. "How can I be happy when I am married to the man who killed my brother and father?"

Baela and Rhaena stayed silent as they hugged the warrior-queen again. "He is sorry for what he did, my dear," Rhaena said, caressing (Y/N)'s cheek softly. "Is he? And why should I accept his apology? It is my decision after all," (Y/N) said stubbornly, feeling slightly betrayed as she saw her own sisters take her husband's side.

"Might I remind you that you killed Daeron, his brother," Baela said softly, her hands making their home on her forearms. (Y/N) blinked once, twice, before she nodded. "Then sister? We are aware of everything that happens during the wars, but keep the bad acts aside, now, my dear. Forgive him and yourself," Rhaena said.

(Y/N) only nodded, humming. "I will later this evening. For I wish to spend time with you two," (Y/N) smiled. "Where is little Aegon?" Baela asked, grinning. "Little Aegon is no more little, sister."

(Y/N) felt like the nerves in her entire body were screaming at her to knock at the door to Aemond's chambers but the usually courageous and brave Queen felt too coward to do so.

'Am I doing the right thing, mother?' She thought to herself as she finally knocked on the wooden dragon. She heard shuffling from the other side as the door opened. Surprise painted Aemond's face before melting in a cold look.

"Your grace," he said with a nod. No smile or even a hint of softness. "May we talk for a few moments... Aemond," (Y/N) said nervously, her usual composure fluttering in front of his sharp, penetrative gaze. Aemond only nodded, stepping aside to let her in.

Once the door was closed, (Y/N) took in a deep breath, turning to face a grim Aemond. "If I may ask, your grace, how is it that you have graced me with your presence?" Aemond asked coldly, making tears well up in her deep eyes.

She was aware that she was only getting the taste of the medicine she had forced him to drink, but it only pained her more. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I am here to apologize, for my behavior to you, Aemond. I understand that it is important for us to put aside all which happened in the past," (Y/N) said, her eyes watched as Aemond moved to pour himself wine.

"Aemond, I apolo-" "Are we done, your grace?" Aemond interrupted her, making her jaw agape. "Aemond?" (Y/N) asked in disbelief. "If you are then you are free to leave, your grace. Your apology is well heard but not accepted, for I always tried to make amends while you so graciously pushed me away."

The Crimson Queen gulped, nodding her head in agreement. "I am certainly sorry for my behavior, Aemond," (Y/N) could feel her tears spilling down her face. She walked briskly to Aemond, kneeling down in front of him.

Aemond tried not to look at the queen who knelt in front of him. "Stand, your grace. My feet are not your true place," Aemond said, trying to keep his emotions from slipping. "You have done a lot for me, but I... I have always done nothing to appreciate it but only criticized them. Give me whatever punishment you think worthy of me," (Y/N) said, trying to keep her hiccups at bay.

"I should be punished, my queen. For I have killed your dear ones, and you," Aemond kneeled down in front of her, grasping her elbows in his forcefully. "You have not killed my dear brother. Daeron. Do you remember him, your grace, or have you forgotten him altogether?" Aemond asked, hatred laced in his voice only triggered (Y/N)'s tears.

She let herself feel. Feel all the emotions she could see coming towards her way. Her head placed itself on his chest, tears staining his leather tunic. Sobs filled the entire room, echoing around the silent walls. Aemond's heart clenched in the worst ways as he felt her bury herself more and more into him.

"It's alright," Aemond whispered, his fingers caressing her hair. "I am so tired, Aemond. All of the blood and violence. I don't wish it anymore," (Y/N) whispered, hiccups breaking her sentences in between. "I know, my queen, I know."

"Do you... do you forgive me?" (Y/N) whispered, looking up at him with red and puffy eyes. "Truthfully, not now, (Y/N). But soon, very soon," Aemond said, letting a reassuring smile take over his face.

(Y/N) sniffled, parting away from the embrace to study the slightly wet leather tunic of Aemond. "I apologize for that," (Y/N) nodded to that, making Aemond bite down a small smile. "Do you feel light now, (Y/N)?" Aemond asked, his hand still on her back.

"Unexpectedly, yes," (Y/N) said with a small smile, making Aemond's eye tear up a bit. "What happened?" The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms asked, voice filled with concern. "This is the first time you smiled at me," Aemond said with a chuckle, his eye shining with adoration.

(Y/N) blinked, feeling guilty of her behavior directed towards him. "I hope there are more times of it," she whispered, gently placing her head on his shoulder. "I hope the same, dear," Aemond smiled softly, as they sat there in complete silence, basking in each other's presence.

It was in that moment when the story of the One-Eyed King and the Crimson Queen took a right turn and shifted from a story filled of blood and violence to a story of love and peace. A reign so peaceful that the common people called it the Reign of Gold.

#aemond targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond x fem!reader #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #hotd aemond #house of the dragon imagine #targaryen reader

[t3kandson]

Family’s at Friction

Word count; 8,977

Fandom; The Boyz

Pairing; Kim Younghoon X Reader

Character; Kim Younghoon, Ju Haknyeon, Kim Sunwoo, Son Youngjae, Lee Hyunjae, Bae Jacob, Moon Kevin, Lee Sangyeon, Lee Juyeon Choi Chanhee & Ji Changmin

Warning; Angst, Guns, Robbery, Hostage, Violence (not by any TBZ characters), Oral (receiving), body marking & Unprotected sex

Notes; Happy Birthday Younghoon

Taglist; @ilovechanhee

“My son Isn’t home often, but I need to go back home, his grandfather is getting lonely without me,�� Mrs Kim smiled your way. “Well I can wait till he’s home in the evenings and then leave,” you said as her appearance got brighter. “Or I could offer you a room in the house and you could reside here,” she said as you looked to the table between you. “I have a daughter I can’t leave her behind,” you admitted expecting the job to be removed. “How old is she?” Mrs Kim asked. “She’s 8,” you said looking at her with hope for the job to remain. “Who will look after her while you’re here?” she query’s as she smiles back your way. “My mother, she collects her from school and takes her home till I arrive, sleeping over if she has to. She’s a widow so there’s no one at home to miss her,” you say as Mrs Kim nods. “Well seems a good arrangement to me,” she smiles offering you her hand. “The jobs yours,” she says as excitement fills you. “Thanks Mrs Kim,” you said smiling

The first week Mrs Kim stayed in the home. Due to her son working hard on a project that he wouldn’t be home for the week. That time had gone well, you had established a good teacher pupil relationship with Youngil. He was 12 and a very intelligent young man, thriving to learn everything that could teach him and you honestly couldn’t have asked for a better pupil. However, you felt for the poor child. His mother had left the family home, affairs by the dozen. Choosing money from the divorce over her own son. He felt abandoned by his mother but also felt unwanted by his father also. Kim Younghoon, had taken solace in his marital break up by working extra hard in his company. You couldn’t help but add your motherly touch, making sure Youngil ate well during the dinners Mrs Kim encouraged you to join before leaving. But also making sure he kept healthy with his vitamins.

The first time you met Younghoon, you instantly didn’t like him. Holding your hand for him to shake but he coldly walked past. “You can leave now,” he grumbled placing his coat to grab yours to shake your way. Each day he greeted you this way as you kept your head down.

“Don’t leave yet we need to talk,” he growled placing his coat a couple weeks later. “Follow me,” he demanded walking off into a room you had realised was his private living quarters. Following, your eyes noticed the large sways of alcohol in the glass cabinets, all prettily displayed. Walking to the desk he sat in his chair looking up to you with his usual expression of arrogance. “Can I ask you your credentials?” He asked filling his crystal glass with whisky. “Pardon?” You said looking at him with confusion. “I would like to know what credentials you have to assess if your actually qualified for my sons needs,” he said rather sharply looking up at you with annoyance. “Your mother vetted me,” you looked at him confused with his request. “She vetted you as a teacher yes, but I would like to know your credentials as a psychiatrist,” he said taking a swig of his liqueur. “I don’t have any,” you replied looking at him puzzled. “Well could you explain why you seem fit to discuss his personal life?” Younghoon said with a slight growl in his tone. “What do you mean?” You questioned feeling annoyed with his accusations. “Well I pay you to teach my son well. Instead your offering advice to his apparent woes,” Younghoon accused as your eyes widened. “Your son mentioned something that worried him. As a teacher who knows a clear mindset improves their work I listened,” you scoffed arms folded as his eyes widened to your own tone. “But you gave your own opinion to Manipulate him into emotions he doesn’t actually have,” Younghoon said raising his voice to match yours. “That’s poppycock, just because you don’t have time for your son, don’t presume he doesn’t have the emotions he clearly does. If he’s telling you then it’s to express himself,” you said as his jaw tightened. “Well he never expressed it before you was employed as his teacher,” Younghoon growled. “Maybe if you gave your son the time of day he would have expressed that,” you said slamming your hand onto the desk startling him. “I think it’s best you leave,” he said bitterly slouching into his chair. “Goodnight,” you said spinning on your heel. “For good,” he added as you spun back to face him. Walking towards him his eyes differed with fear. “Good now I can really express myself. Your son is failing because of you. Your too selfish to hide from your pain, punishing your son for something his mother did twice off. Not just for cheating but taking your money and leaving. You’ve made that boy feel unwelcome and placed him in so much pain he can’t focus. Ignore me all you like but if you don’t put his emotional needs first then you won’t have a son to brag about at your regular golfing events,” you snap watching his words get stuck in his throat. “Now if you don’t mind I have a daughter that I love dearly who needs her mothers attention,” you add spinning back around to leave him dumbfounded.

It had been a week and things had fallen apart. Your argument with Kim Younghoon had left you without your wages you had rightly earned the last month. You had already fallen behind terribly before the job let alone now. The final demand came through the door as you held it shakily. You had till this evening to At least supply one months rent or you would be evicted. Tears fell from your eyes as you fell to the floor sobbing. What was you going to tell Yoona? Where was you even going to go?

When the door opened you had expected it to be your mother and daughter. But to your horror it was Younghoon, witnessing your complete breakdown. “Y/N,” he coo’d coming to you as he sat beside you. “What’s happened?” He asks as you sobbed even louder instead of replying. His arms wrapped around you like this was a different person you had experienced before. He held you tightly as you sobbed not caring that tears was beginning to fall on his expensive Gucci jacket. “So now you’ve sobbed the entire sea are you going to tell me what’s happened to create such a dam break?” He said rubbing your shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, it’s something I need to fix somehow,” you said pushing yourself out his hold. “Can I help?” He asks as you stand to your feet watching him follow. “You’ve done enough not paying me the months work I’ve done,” you said bitterly as you wiped your eyes. “Yeah about that,” he said with guilt in his expression. “What?” You snapped making his jaw tighten. “What issues do you have? Why do you feel the need to snap,” he growls folding his arms. “What’s your credentials as a psychiatrist?” You hit back at him. Instead of a snarky come back he stifles a laugh instead. “Hitting me with my own words are we?” He said amused. “Look I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot,” he said as you deadpanned his way. “No your an ass,” you said earning a brighter smile. “Fine I’m am ass, who thanks to you was dished some food to really think about,” he said smiling more Warmer then you experienced before. “Is this an apology,” you said tilting your head his way. “Well yes it is,” he said accepting responsibility. “Can I get that in writing?” You said arms folded. He looked around the room in sight for some paper as he made his way for it. “Fine if I have to,” he said picking up the letter in his hand. “Don’t worry,” you said as you panicked realising he was holding your eviction letter. As you attempted to swipe the document, he pulled it out your reach his eyes bulging as he read it. “This is my fault,” he said sorrowfully as you snatched it out his palm. “Yes, yes it is,” you growled taking it and throwing it on the side behind you. “Right I will sort it,” he smiled as you felt his words lift your worry’s. “You need to pay them my months wage to them,” you said more calmer as he picked up the letter once more, then his phone. “Hi I’m the employee of Mrs Y/N, I was wondering if I could pay a month off her backlogged rent,” he said in a professional tone. “How much?” He gasped. “For this shitty apartment,” he growled. “Sod that,” he snapped hanging up on the phone. “What did you say that for?” You said closing your eyes briefly. “Your months wage wouldn’t even cover that,” he scoffed as you breathed in deeply. “It’s 3 million won you owe me 4,” you said annoyed. “Funny that, they’ve asked for 5 million,” he said making your eyebrows furrowed. Picking your phone up you dialled your landlord. “Hi it’s Mrs Y/N, my former employer rang moments ago to pay my one month of rent as demanded in your eviction threat,” you said pausing as the female voice hit your ears. “Ahh yes, he refused saying he wouldn’t pay 5 million won,” she said down the phone. “But my rent is 3 million,” you questioned as Younghoon expression slightly showed a smirk. “We’ve decided to up the rent so to stop the eviction it will have to be 5 million won,” she said as your hands fell to your face, tears threatening to fall once more. “It’s ok I will arrange something,” Younghoon said down the phone he snatched from your hands. “The keys will be in the door once she’s moved this evening,” he growled hanging up. “What did you do?” You cried grabbing the phone. “Your not going to save this situation Y/N, your waste your time and breath trying,” he said placing his hand over your shoulder. “But where am I going to go, me and my daughter are going to be homeless,” you whispered as he looked at you with concern. “What are you going to do Y/N? Beg with every inch of your life?” He said sarcastically. “Yes if I have to,” you whined feeling defeated.

“Well good thing I’m here,” he said smiling at you. “I’ve come to offer you your job back. Youngil’s been quite hesitant to have another teacher. He demands you, so you can have your job back. I will even give you more financial support,” he said smiling. “Good then can I have a sub to get my rent paid,” you pleaded happily accepting your job back. “Oh the increase isn’t in money it’s still 4 million,” he said with his smirk returning to your confusion. “I have two spare rooms, you could move in with your daughter,” he said as you looked at him confused. “Two bedrooms, meals included, no bills and 4 million wons a month,” he said arms folded excited for your reply. It was like your brain froze in that second unable to process what he was promising. “But what do you get extra of?” You questioned as he chuckled. “To be the Nanny when I’m late from work, and I suppose his new psychiatrist,” he teases as you roll your eyes. “However, I must add time is of the essence,” he added looking at the clock just three hours left to unpack. “Fine, thank you,” you said offering him a smile. “Good now you can save my ear from my son’s emotional blackmail,” he added dramatically. “Maybe I should make you wait,” you said playfully. “Ok then maybe I should withdraw my offer,” he teased that made your eyes widen. “No, no need,” you said holding your hand in fear watching him chuckle. Had you read him the wrong way before hand? Had work and stress altered his moods when you found him. Because the man stood in your kitchen wasn’t the same man that you met at his lavish home.

Younghoon and Youngil was waiting patiently when you & Yoona arrived. Comforting your only child you was amazed at the sudden change in Younghoon’s character. Bending down to your daughter size, he brushed Yoona’s stray hair behind her ear in a comforting way. “It’s ok they’re is nothing to be scared about here, I promise,” he said softly as her hug tightened around your waist. “This is your home now,” he said looking somewhat excited himself. “We even have a games room,” Youngil said in an effort to help comfort her. “I can show you if you want?” He asked holding out his hand. Yoona shyly looked your way as you nodded reassuringly before looking the elder boys way. Taking his hand they dash away to the house as Younghoon looked contented. “Your good with her,” you complimented as he chuckled. “You sound as if your surprised,” he said smirking. “Well if I can be honest,”, “that you can,” he cut you off. “That your acting different,” you said bracing for his reaction. “Maybe you just didn’t look properly, you heard Youngil’s complaints and made your painting. Yes I’ve made mistakes a load of them. But I love that boy with every breath,” he added smiling your way. “However, your correct i showed you a bad side of myself. I saw a young attractive girl who I feared was trying to use my son to date me,” he added as you tilted your head his way. “My wife was like that, very manipulative, she didn’t want me she wanted money and she took it to the men she cheated on me with,” he said looking pained. “Sorry to hear that,” you said as he pursed his lips. “What about Yoona’s father?” He asked as your own past burned. “He left me when I fell pregnant,” you said biting your lips as you looked to the floor. “So you never married him?” He gasped as you closed your eyes. Being an single unmarried mother brought you so much awful looks in the past. You didn’t know why you slipped this information with someone so upper class. Breathing in deep you prepared for the disgust to fall from his lips. “So you had to provide all alone by yourself?” Younghoon quizzed as you nodded. “That’s awful, but you’ve worked so hard you should be so proud,” he said holding on to your arms. “Thank you,” you said appreciating his comforting words. “What do you fancy for tea,” he said stepping into the house. “Anything, me and Yoona’s not fussed,” you said as he smiled. “Well let’s go out for a meal, it’s the first night of you both being here,” he said excitedly. “You don’t need to,” you said bashfully. “I’m your boss it’s my orders,” he said smirking your way. “Fine,” you said rolling your eyes.

The house had become very family like, you made breakfast for Youngil & Yoona while preparing Younghoon’s packed lunch every morning. Dropping the children to their school you dropped off Younghoon’s lunch before returning back to the house. Evening meals you cooked normally with both the children helping before you set some tutorial work. Meals in the evening normally spent like a family before a movie or two. To an outsider you looked like a family. Younghoon doting on Yoona just as much as his own son. Both the children was dearly sweet, Youngil acting very brother like. Some weekends the four of you would walk in the natural reserves or enjoying fishing on Younghoon’s yacht.

However, everything started to feel different not long after. You had already smiled at the very like couple act you was currently experiencing. Watching him dry up the dishes you past after washing as you both chatted about your day. While you was lost in Younghoon’s topic about work related conversation, you mind was floating about how you could imagine him as a husband. The sadness that he had possibly given her everything and still cheated. If you was married to him you would have cherished him. You chuckled to your thoughts when it had not been long ago when you despised him instead. “Your not listening to me are you?” Younghoon said breaking you from your thoughts. “Yes, yes I was,” you lied letting a slight blush creep up your face. “So the clients fathers death is amusing,” he asked smirking as your face fell in horror. “Ok sorry I got lost in thought I’m sorry, but before that I really was listening,” you said chewing on your bottom lip. “So what was you day dreaming about?” He asked drying the dish you past him. “Nothing much,” you said feeling let down by your warming face. “Was it something sexy,” he whispered in your ear making you shudder as you gasped. “No,” you shot out abruptly as he chuckled looking at the mess you was making of yourself. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said playfully as he nudged you. “Just was thinking that the worlds an ass to leave someone like you single,” you admitted as he looked taken back. “Think I preferred the sexy thoughts,” he said trying to brush over your words. “Would you now,” you winked his way trying to bring the awkward tension to an end. His hands reached out to the bowl you past but his fingers overlapped yours. Instead of removing them his eyes got lost. The chemistry between you zapping into the atmosphere as you watched his eyes fall to your lips. Thighs tightened as your mind imagining him pulling you to him to place them on you. Words failing you both as each second made the environment almost unbearable under both your heated glances. As he nears closer you don’t know if you think he’s about to kiss you or because you want him to. But before your body moves towards him to figure that out you hear a patter of feet enter the kitchen as you turn to face Yoona with sleepy but wet eyes on her face. “Baby,” you cry as you walk towards her. But before you can, Younghoon scoops her up into his arms. “Did you have a nightmare?” He questions as he wipes her escaping tear as she nods. “Oh hunnie let mummy,”, “shall we get some cookies and milk to help your tears,” Younghoon cuts you off as she nodded. “Sorry I should ask your,” , “no your good,” you replied, now your turn to cut him off. You watched with a warming feeling in your body as he saw to your daughter. It looked like you wasn’t the only one getting attached to the wealthy business owner.

Excitement was buzzing through you as security approved you inside Younghoon’s building. You had been invited to have lunch with Younghoon that day. He had jokingly said the previous week of a promise of a lunch date and though you wasn’t intending it to be reality. His text this morning brought a sense of excitement to fill you. You knew the blurred line of his Son’s live in Nanny was getting complicated. But while everything was innocent you didn’t want to think of that. Upon entering his office you was surprised to find it was filled with some others. Instead of suits they looked relaxed and casual and told you they was his friends. Younghoon’s confused face turned to horror and he leapt up towards you. “Mrs Y/N,” he said looking shady which had your head tilt as you felt the eyes on you. He placed his hand around you taking you to the side of the room. “Oh I’m really sorry I forgot to message you. My friends are in town and sprung this visit,” he said looking anxious for your reply. “It’s ok really,” you smiled to reassure him as your eyes took to his friends beady one’s. “I’ll make it up to you I promise,” he said letting his eyes twinkle in your view as you smile smitten his way. “You guys might as well share this,” you said handing him the picnic bag of items you made for your lunch. “Thanks I appreciate it,” he said stiffening when he heard the mocking of his friends. “Well I’ll leave you to it,” you said bowing before leaving. You barely got to the lift when you remember your car keys was in the basket. Dashing back you heard their chatter within the hallway from the slightly ajar door. “Live in nanny or paid girlfriend,” you heard a voice jibe that made you realise you was the subject. “It’s not like that,” you heard Younghoon scoff as your stomach started to fall. “Those lover eyes you both looked with tells me otherwise,” another one chuckled. “Get off, she’s paid to look after the family that’s all,” Younghoon said as you felt that you was seeing the wrong signs clearly. “So you don’t like her then? Maybe you need to send her the memo,” hit the air as the rest of them laughed with him. “No I don’t like her, I appreciate her,” Younghoon said as you felt your eyes begin to water. Not caring for the keys you turned to dash away. However, you bumped into a solid form before falling to the floor with a yelp. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, are you ok?” A worried face came into your view before he squatted to hold your arms. “Yes sorry I’m,”, “Y/N what happened?” You heard from the door cut you off. Younghoon’s eyes was fall of concern till they fell on the gentleman by your side, especially his hands gently on your arm. “She fell,” he said to Younghoon as his eyes fell back to concern to find your other arm. “Let me help you up,” he said softly with the other guy helping you to your feet. Brushing the gentleman hand off your arm to make sure you was steady before he left yours, his looked slightly annoyed. “Thanks Haknyeon, the guys are in there,” he said without his eyes on someone who clearly was also a friend. “Thanks,” you said grateful for his assistance when he could have laughed at you, like those in the very room he was entering. Haknyeon looked at you softly smiling before he felt Younghoon’s glare and entered his office. “Was you eaves dropping?” He scolded you into the hallway which was silent. “No I was coming for my keys, there in the basket,” you said feeling yourself annoyed with his accusation. He looked at you with his remaining annoyance on his expression as he left to the room. You stood there in silence feeling your heart beat heavy listening to the jibes about your incident. Younghoon emerged minutes later with your keys as he walked you silently away from the room towards the lift. It made you feel unwanted and question everything that you had believe was between you both. Maybe you needed to unblur the lines between you.

It had become clear that he felt he needed space as you received a message stating that he was going away for a couple of days with the guys. The house was quiet without Younghoon and you couldn’t help but miss his company. Youngil and Yoona clearly felt the change in your emotions. Both them being attentive with you and helping you with chores. Which made it a little painful watching the bond that they both had established. Youngil had become Yoona’s defender and very like a big brother. Even getting up to make breakfast to let you have a lay in to help you out. As much as you needed to find away to unattach yourself and Yoona from the family settings here, you just couldn’t bring yourself to, where Youngil was concerned.

You was woken with loud clatter downstairs one evening. Dashing downstairs in your silk gown over your Pyjama dress, you found Younghoon and his friends piling the house. “Oh look it’s the paid wife,” his friend with the most beautiful sun kissed skin mocked. “Sunwoo cut that shit out,” Younghoon growled slightly slurring his words. “Sorry I thought it was intruders,” you said chewing your bottom lip. Younghoon eyes looked lost in lust as he watched you bite your lip away. “Don’t do that you won’t have any skin left,” he snapped making you jump. “Sorry,” you replied as you went to return to your room. But before you could you felt a hand take your wrist to face them. Younghoon looked lost in your eyes not caring that he was showing the passion in them. But despite his deceiving eyes you knew he felt nothing for you. “Can you get us some drinks,” he finally spilled when your eyes took to his friends all amused. Nodding silently you made your way to his office to collect several liqueurs bringing them to the feisty loud living room. Haknyeon’s eyes take yours as you smile his way. Returning to the kitchen you find yourself startled when you turn to face Haknyeon stood there. Stood against the kitchen island his eyes are intently watching you. “Are you really just the live in nanny?” He questions tilting his head. “I’m only intrigued I’m not here to judge,” he said showing his beautiful smile your way. “I’m just his live in Nanny that’s all,” you said as he hummed to himself and came round to your side. Leaning into the Cupboard to reach for some more glasses he looked at you confused. “You don’t get paid to do that so let me help,” he said placing the glasses on to the tray. Younghoon’s eyes widened watching you following empty handed behind Haknyeon. “Didn’t I ask you to do that?” He snapped your way. Instead of taking it your annoyance kicked in as your jaw tightened. “I thought she’s just a live in Nanny not your maid?” Haknyeon said before you could open your mouth. “Who asked you?” Younghoon growled as you saw Haknyeon’s jaw tense. “Maybe if you learnt how to treat women with respect then your wife wouldn’t have cheated on you,” he said squaring up to his friend. Younghoon laughed in a mocking Way before attempting to swing towards his younger. His friends getting around him to pull him away. “You never could handle your drink,” Haknyeon tutted. “I’m not the one hitting their friend you can remove your hand Hyunjae,” Haknyeon said snapping at his friend who stepped back with his hands up. “Sunwoo, Youngjae let him be, let him take a swipe at me,” he snapped at the two holding Younghoon back. “If they let me go I’m going to beat you,” Younghoon growls. “Woah, woah come on guys,” another friend said standing between them all. “You shouldn’t have brought up Jiyeon,” he said at Haknyeon before turning to face Younghoon. “And you shouldn’t be treating your Nanny as a maid, let alone being rude,” he said to Younghoon, who’s eyes fell to you with a little bit of shame in them. “Unless there’s something your holding back from us,” he said looking between you both. “Shut up Chanhee,” Younghoon grumbles as you feel tears ready to spill. “Hyunjae can you take Haknyeon home please,” Chanhee says to his elder who nods. Haknyeon looks at you with concern as you nod to reassure him before they silently leave. Not before the iciness in Younghoon eyes take his, Sunwoo and Youngjae struggling to hold him back. Once the door shuts behind him and the car drives away the younger two release there hands. Chanhee turns to you smiling warmly. “Y/N maybe this is something that you don’t have to be around for. Why don’t you get some sleep,” Chanhee says as you feel your tears escape. Nodding you take yourself silently to your room as you hear Chanhee continue to scold his elder.

You woke early the rest of the week making Younghoon and the children their breakfast. But returned to your room so that you didn’t have to sit in the same room then him. You couldn’t afford to have the angry words you wanted to spill when your daughter and you could face homelessness. You still made his lunch dropping it at the front desk on the way home from the school run. The children was fed before you tutored them. Younghoon’s dinner placed ready to be heated by himself once home. There was occasions when Younghoon would attempt to communicate with you once he got back. Finding you in either in Youngil’s room or Yoona’s, but you kept him at arms length.

Mr Kim @10.55am; Thank you for my lunch it looks very yummy. Can’t wait for lunch time.

Can I be cheeky and ask that you can purchase some snacks. I’m hoping to host a party this evening. I have some apologising to be making to Haknyeon.

You @11;32pm Send me what you require and I will collect.

Throwing the items into the trolley you made your way to the counter. However, three guys in a balaclava storm the shop. One points their gun at the shop keeper making demands. The other aiming his gun in your direction as the last one bordered the door, aiming his at anyone who attempted to enter the shop. “Stand over there,” the one watching over you snapped as you tilted your head unafraid. “Don’t think I won’t shoot you,” he growled as you felt anger tense through you. He could sense your defiance as his gun aimed for the shopping in your trolley. Shooting the bottle of whisky you was ordered to buy for Younghoon to apologise to Haknyeon. The glass exploded, shards going everywhere. One scratching your arms, thankfully just a skin wound, but the blood attempt to drip down your arms. “Next shot will be you,” he threatened aiming the gun too closely. Biting your lip to ground yourself you obeyed moving to the area he pointed to. As you walked you felt your phone vibrate. “What do you hope to achieve?” You said loudly on the hope he wouldn’t hear the phone buzzing in your back pocket. You was grateful for your dark thick clothing that meant he wouldn’t see it flash from behind you. His silence continued as you continue to talk above the vibration. Walking you to the side of the building he turned his gun on anyone who he found. Your group becoming six of you by the time you reached the small staff room. He walked around the room picking the shop phone and smashing it to the floor. His heavy boots slamming down to completely destroy it. Your heart was beating heavy, the first time feeling fear. Storming out he locked the door as you looked to your five companions all of you written with fear on your face.

Slouching down you felt your phone vibrate as you dashed to the call. Mr Kim written all over the screen. “Finally you picked up,” he moaned down the phone. “I don’t need the shopping in the end, they’ve cancelled,” he breathed down the phone heavily. You heard noise from outside the door so you didn’t want to risk answering. The woman beside you her eyes beaded in fear. “Y/N, please answer, tell me you heard that,” he grumbled down the phone. “Or have you brought it already?” He questioned. Suddenly the door sounded as if it was being unlocked so you threw the phone behind you. Closing your eyes when you realised you forgot to hang up. “Get fucking in there,” the man growled tossing a battered and bruised gentleman who looked like he attempted to fight back. His eyes roamed the room as you could hear Younghoon calling in the distance. Fear setting in that he would be heard, you decided to speak once more. “Surely theirs a better way then this?” You said shakily. “What have I said,” he growls aiming his gun back in your direction. “I really will shoot you next time,” he hisses before he storms out the room locking it. As the others dash to the newest member in the room you dash to your phone. “Younghoon,” you whimper. “What’s going on?” He says sounding panicked. “The shop, three gunman,” you throw out choking in fear, not knowing how long you could keep the line of communication open. “Are you hurt?” He says fearfully. “No but one of us is,” you whimper. “I’ll get help, hold tight, keep that mouth under control please I beg you,” he pleads down the phone as a tear escapes. Before you can respond the door is opened once more, the phone placed behind you once again. This time on purpose so he can hear everything. Another two members of staff are thrown in looking in a traumatised expression. The mans eyes take you with anger once more as if he’s expecting you to speak, but you remain tight lipped. “Good you lost your mouth,” he smirks before walking out and locking the door once more. “Be careful,” the man next to you said as you nod before grabbing the phone back. “How many are they of you?” He questions when your heavy breathing hits the phone. “9 one badly injured,” you said as you can hear him passing the information to someone. “I’m on my way, the police have been notified, keep your self quiet and we’re get you out as soon as we can,” he says in an attempt to calm you. “If I don’t,” , “don’t you dare say that we’re not even talking like that,” Younghoon cuts you off. The door opens quick as a flash taking you unguarded. You know his eyes saw you throw your phone behind you. “I knew you was up to no good,” he growled storming his way your direction. Tossing you aside he picked the phone up pressing it to his ear. “Y/N, what’s happening,” you hear even from where you landed. “She’s not available at the moment, maybe check in with the local mortuary,” he chuckles hanging up the phone. He looks at your locked screen which was a photo of Yoona. “Is this your girl?,” he asks as you can’t find the words to respond even if you wanted to. “Well looks like her mummy wants to play at being our main hostage,” he grins throwing the phone to the floor. His feet stamping on it making it crunch under his shoes. Grabbing you by the collar he drags you up, your body not relenting as it tightens around your throat. Dragging you he takes you outside throwing you into the shelf. You whimper as the impact crushes against your chest. “What’s up you lost your bravado mentality,” he mocks after locking the room.

Your eyes find the other two, bags of money, alcohol and fags in sight. “As this one’s called the cops she’s gladly offered to be today’s hostage,” he snarls throwing you into the other masked man. “How long did you call them?” He said rather calmly as his hands brushed down your jawline. “I was on the phone to my boyfriend not the police,” you said scared to mention your boss was the very Ceo of Bbang express. “But he was talking to the police?” He asked tilting his head. “I believe so,” you said honestly as he brushed your hair out your face. “How long ago?” He asked softly your way. “Just before he walked in,” you said as tears pricked your eyes. “It’s ok princess, you do as your told and we’re get you home to lover boy,” he said as you could see the flashing lights outside the building. “Now If you spoke to her nicely you might have prevented this,” he grumbled at the guy who had attacked you. “Right all you need to do is do as I tell you and keep your mouth shut,” he said pressing the gun to your temple as his arm swarm around your chest. “It’s ok princess I won’t use this, unless you give me good reason to,” he coo’d in your ear. Walking to the fresh air which felt refreshing, but the sight not so much. Armed police with their guns pressed in your direction. In the distance though your eyes found Younghoon. He looked in a way you never experienced, his face full of concern and worry. “Let the hostage go,” you heard echo around you. “I will once we’ve escaped,” he smirks walking towards the car that was still parked. The other two jumped in the vehicle with their haul, he stepped backwards with you into the car. Your eyes taking Younghoon before the man pulled you in. Throwing himself to the floor the gun was pressed into your back. “Drive,” he grumbled as the car began to show life. “Don’t you dare move, not yet?” He said with a slight harshness. Tears flowing down your eyes, you watched Younghoon fade in to the distance looking distressed as he got into his own car. As you sped away, you watched as the police followed the chase. “How many,” he snapped pressing the gun into your back. “Too many to count,” you whispered. “Fuck sake put your foot down,” he snapped. You watched slowly as the cars chasing dwindled down. The clever manoeuvres and the sun being chased down, too you soon found secluded empty roads ahead and nothing following. The gun was removed from your back as your eyes looked to your captor sitting up. “Drive over,” he snapped, as his hands cupped your face. “I promised you you would be safe if you helped,” he whispered. “Your letting me go?” You questioned as he chuckled. “Why do you fancy joining me,” he sniggered as you screwed your face his way. “My life’s not one for you,” he said as he leaned over opening the door for you to escape. “Go live for you and your daughter,” he said beneath the mask. Climbing out the car your eyes took the bigger man who hurt you. He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and before you knew it the car drove off, leaving you in the pitch dark not knowing where you was.

For the first time in ages you felt vulnerable, alone and cold. Your feet stumbled as the tears fell as you made your way to find any sign of life. Your ribs hurting like hell with each step. You had walked at least a couple of miles, before a car came your way. You waved wincing almost immediately from the sharp pain, sighing in relief when the car pulled up. However, you felt even more at peace when it was Younghoon’s face that took yours. “Y/N,” he choked as he took you into his arms. “You found me,” you whimpered as the tears flooded. “I told you I wouldn’t let you out my sight,” he said patting your hair as he kissed your Crown. “Are you hurt,” he said examining you but he struggled in the dark. He grabbed his torch light on his phone checking you out, his face looking in fear at the glass cut skin in your arms. “We need to get you checked out,” he said as you didn’t stop crying to respond. Placing his jacket over you he brings you to the car holding you tightly as it takes you to the hospital.

Thankfully nothing was broken just sore muscle damage. Your flesh wound didn’t even need stitches. However, Younghoon demanded you was house bound for almost a month. He took time off work to become the home maker himself. When you was fed up being cooped up you pleaded to be left to your own devices. However, Younghoon didn’t want to pull any more chances. From now on you was all to have bodyguards. You already knew Juyeon, his own security and driver. But you soon met Jacob who was entrusted with Yoona’s care. Kevin with Youngil as well as your own Sangyeon. Younghoon ordered that no one was allowed to leave without their security. You was told not to do the school runs letting Jacob and Kevin deal with them. You had even moaned what was the point in your own security if you wasn’t allowed to leave the house. Especially as he made demands for no shopping trips or lunch time delivery’s. It was like the incident made the house go in some sort of high protection. You had to laugh that you had survived the last month since the incident why the sudden need now. But then you knew the Robbers still hadn’t been caught. You knew enough from eavesdropping that Younghoon had employed a team to investigate themselves. Ji Changmin had questioned you just as much as the police had, if not more. Changmin wanted to know every aspect of your life. Which infuriated you as how was your past life relevant to an incident where you was simply just at the wrong place at the wrong time. You appreciated Younghoon’s concerns, it felt good to know he cared enough about your safety. He had cared for you so intently while you recovered, that those butterfly feelings returned, even more so then normal. The way his eyes looked at you from the other side of the room. His friends even visiting to check up on you, he stop denying you was more then just a live in nanny. They had sniggered even more worse but after a while they became supportive. Haknyeon blamed himself. If it wasn’t for the argument he felt that you wouldn’t have been there getting his make up spread. But you told him you knew Younghoon well enough that he enjoyed his boys moments and he would have found another excuse.

Though you felt as if you and Younghoon was nearing breaking the line between you both. He reminded you as always that it was just your own Delulu mind. You watched as he left for the glamorous event at a local charity ball. He had looked dashing before you left and your thighs instantly tightened, leaving you wanting to be by his side. Your heart fell when you watched on social media him walk in with a girl on his arms. Talks of his secret relationship hit everywhere on the feeds that you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. You had obviously taken his caring nature for something else. Yet he always made it obvious that you wasn’t someone he was into. Instead he had been hiding a relationship. Beneath the jealous sizzling in you, you felt angered slightly that you was no doubt At least friends and he kept that from you. You didn’t wait up for him as planned, instead taking yourself to bed to sob yourself to sleep.

Realising that you had to create some form of distance between you, you started that following morning. Using the breakfast table to test Youngil and Yoona for their upcoming exams. It was to remember you wasn’t a paid substitute partner but Youngil’s tutor. Instead of his lunch being hand made you ordered it in for him. When Younghoon wanted to take you out for a meal you arranged for Kevin to take Youngil. While you and Yoona stayed home in your room ordering take out as you watched a movie.

“What’s going on?” Younghoon quizzed grabbing your wrist the second the children was taken to school that morning. You hadn’t realised Younghoon was yet to leave for work. “I’m waving the children off,” you smiled as you went to walk off before his hands grabbed your wrist. “Why didn’t you and Yoona come yesterday?” He quizzed looking hurt. “I’m use to your paddy’s but that really hurt you not letting Yoona come,” he said looking pained. “Because I’m just your live in nanny and Yoona is just the Nanny’s daughter. We’re all forgetting our roles here, this isn’t mine and Yoona’s home, it’s our work related residency,” you said as his eyes blinked in shock. “I’m confused,” he said as you smiled at him. “Younghoon we’re temporary, one day Youngil won’t need a tutor or to be minded. He’s 12, He doesn’t really need minding now that’s what Kevins for. When that day comes it will be painful for Yoona, she needs to be reminded we’re not a family,” you explained as you brushed his hand off your wrist to walk to the stairs to your room. “Wait Y/N,” He called behind you as you turned to face him half way on the stairs. “Why do you suddenly think this is temporary? do you think little of me that when Youngil don’t need you, that I will just brush you aside? Are you that blind to not even realise I care for Yoona myself?” He says looking pained. “So what your going to keep her here till she’s old enough to leave?” You mock rolling your eyes. “Why not?” He scoffs looking serious. “Because your not her dad Younghoon, we already confuse those kids as it is,” you spluttered as he furrowed his eyes your way. “Ok I do, I confuse them because I keep confusing your friendship with something else,” you let slip as his face relaxed almost amused. “You have feelings?” He teased as you grumbled continuing to walk up the stairs to run to hide in your room from revealing further more. “Y/N stop walking away,” he groaned following. “Why so you can continue mocking me,” you said as you go to open your bedroom door, before Younghoon’s hand press to avoid that. “I’m not mocking you I’m sorry,” he said throwing his head into your view against the door. His bottom lip playfully pouting as he try’s to make you smile. “See I’m just trying to make you laugh that’s all.” He said sweetly. “But seriously do you really like me?” He asked holding your waist just a breath away. “Please,” you said trying to brush him aside to no avail. “Can we not talk about this it’s embarrassing as it is,” you said looking up at him with pleading eyes. “If it makes you feel better i like you too,” he said his hands tightening around your waist.

You went into shock as your mind attempted to take his words. “What,” you stuttered as he laughed spinning you so you was against your own bedroom door. His hands placed either side of you, his face brought closer. “I like you Y/N,” he said whispering into your ear. “That girl from the ball,” you whispered yourself, closing your eyes as you struggled under him. “Is that what this weeks been about, her?” he chuckles. “She’s nothing special, I can promise you, it’s not like I could have taken you even though I wanted to,” he said watching you as you felt irritation attack. “Why because your ashamed of me?” you gasped as he shook his head. “Because you don’t like the spotlight, your not ready for the publicity of being with someone like me. Having to deal with the likes of my mother, Youngil’s mum,” he added as you calmed. “When I finally get you to accept a relationship with me I want to be greedy, I want you to myself, all mine,” he smirks devilishly.

Before you can speak another word his lips fall to yours. It’s like he’s held back for so long as the kisses are deep and frenzied. His teeth occasionally nipping at your lips when they don’t keep up with his desperate needy flow. His hands you can hear are fighting the handle of your door and you know he’s about to devour you. You can feel your thighs dampen in excitement. As he opens the door he winks at you having let you come up for air. Pulling you into your room he drags you to the bed. Dropping to the floor he removes your lower clothing, humming at the view of your glistering pussy on show. Pulling you to sit on the bed he hears his phone ring in his back pocket. He doesn’t even look at the device turning it off without his eyes leaving yours. Lips falling to your heat he lets his tongue swipe up and down your folds. Swirling the tip around your nub he enjoys listening to you moan into the air. It’s like it encourages him more as his tongue finds its way to slide against your velvety walls. Bringing your pelvis towards his tongue fucking you, become a messy feast for the both of you. While you feel like your slowly unwinding to your upcoming explosion. You know that your juices are flowing down his chin as he enjoys his meal. Thighs trembling you feel almost ready to jump off your high with him but he stops earning a grumble from your lips. “Don’t be so greedy my baby,” he teases wiping your juices from his chin. “I want you to be greedy with me at the same time,” he says standing to remove his clothes. Seeing him standing there naked almost knocks you into a different world. One where your mind is no longly functioning. From his chuckle your sure your dribbling in his view. Hovering over you his fingers attack your t-shirt till they remove your bra. His lips impatiently suckling over your nipple. It’s like the taste of your skin is his favourite as he enjoys licking, sucking along both your breasts. Your sure that he’s no doubt marked you as he struggles under his pleasure. Lips soon start to chase to your neck. This time there’s no mistake his suckling on purpose as he marks your skin. “Mine,” he whispers into your ear as your hand finds to his waist. Lining himself at your entrance he slowly presses into your core. His eyes not leaving you as he watches you fall apart underneath. Stilling as he bottoms out in you, your walls respond tightening around him. “Oh baby that feels so good,” he whispers with shakily breath. Lips crashing with yours, his needy inpatient kisses return, this time with a rhythm of his cock deep in you at the same time. Nails raking along his back encourages him to speed his pace as your moans are more whimpers and cry’s. Lifting your legs over his shoulder to reach a more deeper position the coil beneath you begin To evolve once more. Your own pelvis attempting to move against his own, but his hand weighs you down further restricting you. You suckled down his chuckles mixed with his own moans. Hands cupping your face gently doesn’t match the speed and harshness of his shaft hitting you so perfectly, your thighs shake as your orgasm nears. His lips leave yours as his own tethers, your name spills like a mantra. The words hitting the air is enough to send you crazy as you fall off your own. Your wall crushing around his cock that his grunts become deeper as he fills you with ropey cum. He continues as he slowly thrusts his last couple of movements against you.

Lips returning to yours he lets your legs drop. His kisses much more romantic as his hands brush down your face. “Are you really mine?” you ask between his kisses that makes him stop to look at you. “Do I really look like a man who spins words just to get them in to bed?” He questions as you smile shaking your head. “Y/N I meant what I said. Your mine, I just want to keep it private before the world, my world scares you away,” he said looking at you seriously. “I once thought i had lost you and I’m never going back there,” he said brushing his hands along your breasts watching them harden. “That wasn’t because I was connected to you,” you said trying to comfort him. “Maybe then yes, but anyone connected to me because my money, my status they could be hurt,” he said biting his lip. “I won’t ever risk losing you. It’s why I paid for that girl to be my plus one, the eyes are on her while I enjoy my time with you,” he said pressing kisses to your breasts that had your nipples erect. “You paid for a girlfriend?” you scoffed as he chuckled. “No I paid an actress to act like she was my date, so I could keep my new family safe,” he said looking at you totally in love. “New family?” You question as he smiles. “Yes you, Youngil and Yoona, my family,” he said as his lips fell to yours.

Getting lost in your moment you didn’t register the raised voices coming up the stairs. But the way Younghoon’s lips was engaged with yours he didn’t neither. Not till the door blasted open.

At the bottom of your bed was a woman looking at you both furious. Her eyes meeting Younghoon’s, guilt written all over them. “What the hell,” you hit out pulling the bed sheets to cover you. “What the hell? Is that all you can say when your in bed with my husband,” she screams angrily in to the room. Behind her seconds later walks in Youngil, his face in horror at finding you in bed with his father.

In that second you wanted the floor to eat you whole.

To be continued ……

Masterlist

#kpop smut #kpopidol #fiction #the boyz smut #kim younghoon smut #ji changmin #moon kevin #kim younghoon #choi chanhee #lee hyunjae #lee sangyeon #ju haknyeon #Kim Sunwoo #son Youngjae #jacob bae

[rathologic]

hi there, you run a great blog!! i was wondering if you have any advice or suggestions on how to responsibly/respectfully get into patho and patho2? as in, do you think there are any things a new fan should keep in mind while playing (i.e. with the grooming allegations, i have also seen racism and misogyny mentioned)

honestly i'm not entirely sure what i'm asking for help with here, but maybe just resources that further discuss the shitty views/opinions/actions of dyb that taint aspects of the game? thank you so much

hey! it really is going to depend on your personal tolerance for these aspects. racism is a major in-world topic discussed by the games, but also thoroughly present within the storytelling the franchise presents, so there's a fair amount of nuance; the elements of misogyny and pedophilia are just visible throughout. if you're at least passingly familiar with such topics, you'll be able to recognize and think critically about their presence as you get into the games (if you decide to at all)

baseline recommendation is always "don't pay for pathologic 2". Ice-Pick Lodge is not financially struggling, 2's racist and misogynistic elements are more pervasive and widespread than the first game's, and the mainstream praise it receives (unduly) goes straight to dyb's reputation as a writer. honestly I would not recommend paying for patho1 either but it usually sells for $1, so if that's justifiable to you... in no particular order here's some things to have in mind:

"tl;dr just respect the kin" is a Google doc outlining some ways that anti-Indigenous beliefs show up in the fanbase, and touches slightly on racist aspects of the games, like the p1 butcher models

look through the patho1 character ages, and keep the large age gaps in all of the m/f relationships in mind (patho2 just doesn't have canon ages)

this patho1 mod gets rid of a pedophilic dialogue exchange, and removes dybowski's face from the player screen; highly recommend that desktop users install it

my #p2crit tag is mostly very informal complaints about the writing and mechanics of pathologic 2, but there are a few decent critical points in it (though also many game spoilers, so don't look through this first!)

one of those points is that the herb bride (and Eva's) model textures in p2 include their genitals, as like. a baseline for how the game regards women

also new fans should Really be aware that rubin was being adopted into the burakh family in patho1. a lot of people, willfully or unknowingly, post pseudo-incest of him with the haruspex; it's a gray area in p2, but foul with the original designs

and some resources re: dybowski:

turaform's regarding nikolay dybowski is a video summarizing the grooming allegations, and describing the events by which they became known to the western fanbase- it was made in april 2021 soon after the news became widespread, but to my knowledge remains the most thorough explanation

this post links to the document of tweets referenced (the version with identifying information removed)

this post cites part of an interview with dybowski (at ~32:00 in the video), about how attractive he finds a young-looking naked girl model from the making of The Void, IPL's game about naked girls

in the society of dead poets is another interview not directly related, but I think it's worthwhile background that dyb's great-grandfather married his great-grandmother, a chinese woman, when he was >60 and she was 20 (page 57)

from all that you'll see patterns in the franchise, especially a tendency towards "beautiful woman gets killed young" (the Feverish Feeling ARG, in between games, is also fundamentally this), and be able to make your own judgements about its treatment of the Kin. maybe it just won't be acceptable to you! a lot of people have left the fanbase from discomfort or frustration, and that's completely understandable. I only hold that it's more valuable for people who are comfortable engaging at all to discuss and circulate discussion of patho's harmful aspects than to let them be only praised as profound & perfect narratives in the public eye :~)

#ok to rb unless the sender says otherwise - in fact might add this to pinned for the number of citations. #& in terms of not furthering problems I personally don't engage with childshipping nor art of a certain graphic femicide moment in 2 #dybowski cw #asks #pathologic #excuse it taking me some time to compile. and thanks for asking!

[marvelmusing]

Hi, hi, hi!

I have to share something 🙃

Sooo youtube just recommended a vid of the School for Good and Evil with Rafal (probably bc I was looking for shadow and bone wallpapers for like two days in a row and there are like 3 at tops 😒, anyway...)

Watching it, I just realized there's a much more interesting story behind the idea of the movie: Rafal slowly corrupting good 😱

So, the ramblings idea:

Aleksander started out in the school of good, he was to be a hero for his people, a saint like his grandfather. But when his power manifested he was feared and put into the school for evil and he slowly (over centuries) did become truly evil and not long after graduating the principal too...

He was bitter and lonely and that led to a path to a sort of revenge that started out as a lesson he wanted to teach to the people who judged him...

The plan (at first) was to make some of the kids of the people who cast him out "evil", so he can show them that everyone has both good and evil sides but the plan worked too well and he found joy in making them pay for turning on him...

And that was when he truly turned evil...

His work was almost finished. Over centuries heroes got vain, prideful, and mean. Almost at the brink of becoming evil but something was missing...

Then he found you. A Reader with great power that could match his own. A lost soul just like him, who had good intentions but deep down there was something darker that only needed a little nudge from him to get free...

😈

Okay I love this so much

[I knew that Rafal would end up being fully evil as I watched the film, but the feeling of my hope dying when they did the classic villain reveal (the whole ha ha you fell for the bad guy’s manipulation) was disappointing. The film is probably aimed at teens so they can’t have evil win but I just want a villain to be genuine when he says he wants to rule the world together you know?]

Anyways….

I’m gonna turn the school into a university so that the vibes don’t end up icky between Aleksander and the Reader

I feel like Aleksander also sees that being evil often means that his students are more themselves and freer than those at the school for good.

When you arrive at the school for good, Aleksander isn’t surprised that you don’t fit in with the other students. For the first time in a long time, he sees someone with truly good intentions struggling to understand why everyone ‘Good’ is so awful.

He watches you from a distance, seeing how uncomfortable you are surrounded by the entitled princes and princesses. He knows you’re far better than any of them - you deserve to be a queen.

He sees the flicker of anger in your eyes when they mock and demean you. He feels the anger himself, prickling over his skin as he suppresses the urge to put them all in their places.

One day you’re wandering through the grounds and come across the wall that divides the gardens of good and evil. This is where Aleksander first makes contact with you.

The two of you speak through the wall for hours, though he keeps his identity as the headmaster a secret from you - carefully answering your questions so that you believe he is a student, or perhaps a teacher from the sound of his voice.

Regardless of who he is exactly, he provides you with thoughtful advice and an opportunity to talk to someone who you feel actually understands you.

From then onwards, once a week you visit the gardens and sit by the wall where you meet with Aleksander, and the two of you talk about all manner of things. He seems amused whenever you talk about the headmaster for the school for evil and you wonder how much contact the students have with their headmaster.

The headmistress for the school for good was always chastising you, making you feel stupid and naive.

On a particularly difficult day, you rush through the garden with tears welling in your eyes.

When you reach your usual spot where you meet with Aleksander you continue walking, moving towards the portion of the wall that had collapsed and crumbled away. You slide between the large pieces of stone and step into the garden of evil for the first time.

Aleksander lifts his head up when he hears you approaching, his eyes widening as you rush towards him. He reacts instantly, curling his arms around you as you throw yourself against his chest and begin to cry. He soothes you as best he can, encouraging you both to sit down together.

He keeps you close, stroking your hair and murmuring soft assurances, telling you that you are safe with him, that he will protect you from anything.

Once your tears have slowed enough for you to speak, you explain shakily that the headmistress had humiliated you in front of everyone. You were clumsy during ballroom practice and no one had wanted to dance with you.

Your feet are blistered and Aleksander, knowing that you had ballroom practice today, pulls out an ointment and helps to rub it into your tender heels.

Tears still continue to drop down your face and he provides whatever comfort he can, though Aleksander isn’t certain whether the majority of your pain is physical or emotional.

He gets his answer soon enough.

Aleksander’s heart shatters when you ask him if he thinks you’re unlovable. He has meticulously planned his every action for the last few centuries, but he doesn’t think at all as he bends down to kiss you.

“You are not unlovable,” he insists in a low voice as you blink dazedly when he withdraws his lips from yours. “You have a kind soul, something they will never understand.”

Dropping your face down against his chest, you cling to him.

“I know how you feel,” he murmurs softly as your fingers play with the charm that hangs from his necklace. “You want to prove them all wrong. You want to show them exactly what you’re capable of.”

You nod weakly.

“I do.”

“I can help you.”

The metal charm is smooth under your fingertips, a familiar shape carved onto the dark stained silver. The sun in eclipse. The Darkling’s symbol.

Only a select few are permitted to wear his symbol. None of them would risk his wrath by talking to a student from the school for good, which can mean only one thing.

You had only seen the headmaster for evil once, at the beginning of your first year and it had been from across the brightly lit ballroom in the school for good. You hadn’t the chance to admire his face from such a distance.

Sitting up, you look at Aleksander properly. Perfectly styled dark hair, a neat beard, and dark eyes filled with concern.

You know who he is, he can see it in your gaze. But instead of turning away from him, like he fears, you lift your chin determinedly.

“What do I do?” you ask.

He takes hold of his necklace, lifting it up over his head to place it around your neck. You stare down at his symbol as the cool metal rests against your skin.

“You show them who you really are.”

#answered asks #thanks for the ask! #my mutuals (affectionate) #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[thatonebadasslighter]

𝟗/𝟐𝟓/𝟐𝟑 | 🪐🍂🍷🌠 | 𝖥𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖠𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 ( Part One )

The autumn brown leaves fell from the twigs that hung three feet above us as our feet planted firm upon the damp green grass. We were ready to face our truths head on and see if we're actually invincible.

"Ready?" I ask scarcely.

" We'll see." Landon nods hesitantly.

The moonlight appears at a sickening moment as the time strikes ten pm. We both kept taking sip after sip, gulp after gulp until one of us dropped to the floor. I could've predicted that Landon was going to collapse first but I felt the real poison pulling me under. It coursed through my veins faster than a shooting star. I was dying.

" Landon…Landon…help!" My voice weak. I felt helpless in the middle of it all. The feeling of my insides caving in and my organs becoming so empty to a point where I finally realized this is end of my long seventeen year journey of living a life full of regrets and uncertainty.

" No! Stay with me, mate." Landon voice unsteady. " Hold on. I'm calling 911." His lip quivering uncontrollably. I can feel the frightening hurt in his voice. The feeling of losing me and himself. All I wanted to do was climb into my casket already so he didn't have to see me like this.

" They can't do anythi─"

" Don't say that! You don't know that. You can fight this." I hand him my gold chain that was wrapped around my neck. I gave it to him to make him feel safe inside. I won't be the hand that he holds on the street or tell him it'll be okay anymore. He needs to do that on his own. He needs to, he has to even if it hurts like hell.

" It's time. The poison in me is going to hit my heart any second. You need to go." I demand, practically whispering. " Promise me three things you're going to be okay. You'll attend Berkeley. and most importantly you'll stay sober. Prom─"

" I can't." Landon was shell shocked. He didn't want to leave me. " Please you have to stay ali─"

" Remember when you had your first vape pen. Mr. Radcliff came storming into the locker room and asked is that cotton candy I'm smelling?"

" Yeah. Sophomore me lived for danger." He chuckles softly, sniffling. " He really fell for it."

We never ratted each other out. That means he needs to understand that he's not leaving me because of guilt. I'm always going to be with him even when he doesn't see me. It was our decision and we are paying for our mistakes.

" I lo─" Suddenly everything goes pitch black and I knew that in this moment it's the end of the road for me. I know Landon loves me even though he never said it. Even more so, I know him more than he knows himself. Meaning, he doesn't give up, he never fails. More importantly he'll do anything in his power to find Alvafyre.

" I'm sorry Conor but I'm carving my own path for you…yeah I guess that's what I'll fucking do." Landon wiped his tears, shattering the glass bottle that sat beside him. He's taking his grandfather advice to heart and carving it into a whole different organ. But he might need to lean to Satan for how to get there because it won't be easy. " Mate we're going to Brawling Cliffside."

Qotp: Want a part two?

#lgbtq #gay story #short story #triggerwarning #self h@rm #emotional #josh macqueen #zack nelson #self awareness #mystery

[necromancer-4-hire]

Legacy of Kain: What they’re like as uncles.

A couple years back I made post like this but of course after I deleted my account I lost everything. Hope you enjoy.

Raziel

That cool uncle that’s like your second dad but gets whatever you want for your birthday. His affection is always available especially if you need a shoulder to cry on. Attends all your events; birthdays, graduation, surgeries, sports etc. Will pay for your school no matter how long you take.

Turel

That stubborn uncle that calls you “little creep” and tells you not to touch his things. Your pretty sure he hates you until the day your in a tough spot and he bails you out. You’ll get a stern lecture but he won’t snitch.

Dumah

An uncle that likes to play fight and buy tickets to games or Monster truck events. (I can just see him liking Monster Jam) Will knock out anyone that’s bothering or giving you a hard time.

Rahab

The uncle that helps you with homework. Need to pass an exam; he’s there all week. Need to learn spanish, or french; he knows many languages. Will call at the end of the day to see how you did. If you passed great; even if you don’t he’ll encourage you to keep trying. Very supportive.

Zephon

That uncle that your parents try to keep you away from. Watches horror movies of all kinds and calls in favors to buddies if you need help. Parking ticket? “I’ll call my friend who can help you out with that.” Got caught stealing or doing graffiti? Bail you out no problem and no questions asked. Except no murder; that’s his job.

Melchiah:

The uncle that’s always there. He doesn’t say much but he always has an open ear to your problems and can offer any advice if asked. Has your back through thick and thin. Need to talk to someone in the middle of the night; he’s there. Stranded without gas; he’s there. Forgot your wallet; he’s there.

Kain: Uncle/Grandfather

That one relative you hardly see but you know he exists. Sends gift cards or cash in a card with a blood written greeting. Actually gifts you with what you need or like. Kain’s not one for pretending. When you do see him you’ll get a hair ruffle or hand on the shoulder. Your nickname may even be, numbskull. Take it or leave it he couldn’t care less.

Bonus:

Janos: Uncle/ Grandfather

The relative you need to build an alter for. Janos is affectionate and understanding. Visits usually last for a few days if time permits; he enjoys your company. Will knit sweaters for you in the winter. Janos has wisdom to last a lifetime so he is honored when you ask him advice.

Vorador: Uncle

Mansion uncle; you need a place to stay? Make yourself at home. If your a girl he’ll send you with his brides to shop. If your a male he’ll keep you around to spar or show you the art of blacksmithing and tell you his tales. When your not at the mansion he’s that one uncle that looks like he’s always frowning; given his history who can blame him? On the bright side he’s always in the mood for provocative humor; will occasionally joke that his nipples are pierced.

#Legacy of Kain #Raziel #Turel #Dumah #Rahab #Zephon #Melchiah #Kain #Janos Audron #Vorador #character imagines

[unbossed]

Warning: This is going to ramble.

I absolutely love how much you can infer about a social order by the background “context” in its media. I’ve seen a lot of old “social guidance” and assorted industrial and sales training films in my time (thanks almost entirely to my 30+ year obsession with MST3K, I admit). At some point I started watching out for things that seemed unusual to me but which were presented as utterly unremarkable, but not such things that we are already accustomed to from the past like various prejudices and bigotries.

I’ve noticed an unmarried man in his 30′s or 40′s still living with his parents presented as nothing more than the setting for a sales manager to get advice from his retired sales manager father. I’ve noticed a grandfather, still living on the farm he’s handed over to his adult son, guiding the kids in “quality of life” activities there while their father and oldest brother are busy with the “sustainment” chores*. I’ve noticed very recent changes to the way families are expected to be structured in order to serve a capitalist social order.

I’ve mentioned it before, and I’m not likely to ever shut up about it, but the “nuclear family” is an absurd anomaly that was cultivated to increase sales of consumer goods. The fragmentation of the family into smaller entities was not the historical norm even in the places where it’s most widely endured today. Until less than a century ago multi-generational homes were typical, commonly consisting of the grandparent(s) and the family of one of their adult children. This customary arrangement arose from the agrarian origins of modern life. As I’ve mentioned before, the nuclear family was an unsustainable model before industrialization. (Personally, I think we’re seeing it proven unsustainable even now.)

In the post-WWII USA its promotion was, I believe, a campaign by capitalists to capture post-war “prosperity” by eliminating the sharing of many common household resources and coercing their purchase instead. When three generations lived under the same roof they only needed one set of household tools, for example. (I’ve also seen short films extolling the value of knowing how to do your own home and auto repairs, rather than paying someone else for them.)

A multi-generation home only needed one set of appliances, as well, and so on. Move the kids out into their own homes, though, and they’re going to buy their own tools, too. Co-housing, even with “found family,” means buying fewer durable consumer goods. The nuclear family model is meant to serve capital. (Sharing those things is still possible, obviously, but we humans seek convenience like we seek salt, fats, and sugars.)

The conditions that made this shattered form of family possible could almost certainly only have arisen in the wake of something as catastrophic as the Second World War. The post-war prosperity of a sufficient number of people in the USA to create those conditions was only the result of the USA having the only undamaged industrial capacity productive enough to sustain it. To put it plainly, when everyone else needed to rebuild their bombed out countries the USA were the only ones left who could sell them enough bricks.

As the rest of the world recovered from the war the advantage that the USA had enjoyed from their devastation steadily dwindled. The social conditioning, however, did not. Most of the USA’s populace was led to believe that economic policies were the primary driver of that advantage. Abandoning that comforting fantasy, which tells us that such “prosperity” can be turned on and off just by winning enough elections, is critical. Recognizing that it is only made possible by the immeasurable suffering of all forms of Earthling may be the only thing that will drive us to keep our habitat inhabitable.

TL;DR We need to share more, buy less, and foster the social arrangements that make those easier.

* While their dad and brother were tending the animals overwintering in the barn he took the kids out to their woodlot to cut a Christmas tree.

#excerpts from the novel that I'll never write #nuclear family #social engineering #capitalism #we're in a zoo that's running out of funding #autocorrect I swear on the US Army that sustainment is a real word #philosophizing is easier since I stopped shaving my beard

[carewyncromwell]

"Don't talk 'bout me

Like how you might know how I feel --

Top of the world, but your world isn't real...

Your world's an ideal...

So go have fun -- I really couldn't care less."

~"Therefore I Am" by Billie Eilish

x~x~x~x

When Carewyn Cromwell first joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as an up-and-coming lawyer in the spring of 1991, Cornelius Fudge -- the Minister for Magic -- was very eager to welcome her and show support for her budding career. It didn't take long for Carewyn to figure out that Fudge had heard all about her and her brother Jacob's exploits dealing with the Cursed Vaults and apprehending R -- not just from Dumbledore, but from OWL examiner Professor Tofty and infamous Auror Mad-Eye Moody -- and although Carewyn had had plenty of people side-eye her for her dealing with the Vaults at school, it seemed Fudge held no such disapproval. On the contrary, he seemed very keen on interacting with Carewyn, especially around his support staff and the rest of the Wizengamot. And it wasn't until Carewyn finally met him (as well as his Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge) that she figured out why.

Carewyn had known she wouldn't be the first Cromwell that sought a career in Magical Law. Her Head of House, Severus Snape, purposefully brought it up to her in their Career Advice session, to make sure she was aware that -- at the time of her interest -- Carewyn's ruthless grandfather, Charles Cromwell, was an influential member of the Wizengamot. After Charles's arrest and lifetime imprisonment, the Cromwell Clan's reputation had understandably been tarnished. Carewyn and Jacob's reputations, however, were shining and pristine, because they were the Cromwells who had actually defeated Charles and the rest of R and in the process saved Hogwarts from the danger of the Cursed Vaults. And considering that Fudge was related to the Cromwell Clan through marriage (a fact that still left Carewyn reeling) and had apparently done his fair share of socializing with Charles Cromwell while unaware of his crimes, it was very clear that Fudge wanted to distance himself from that old association, preferably by being on good terms with the people who'd brought Charles to justice. And since Carewyn was now pursuing a promising new career at the Ministry, Fudge had clearly deemed it in his best interest to throw his support behind Carewyn, so as to have her esteem and reputation likewise reflect nicely on him.

So Fudge only has interest in being around people who make him look good, rather than anyone with actual integrity, Carewyn thought cynically. Guess I shouldn't be surprised that the chief politician around here acts like it.

Despite herself, though, Carewyn was disappointed. All the more so when she learned in the spring of 1993 just how self-absorbed the man was, despite being given charge of the entire British Wizarding World.

It all started when -- in the midst of a busy night shift -- Carewyn's meeting with fellow lawyer Chester Davies was interrupted by her old school friend Ben Copper bursting into her office.

"Carewyn," he said urgently, "Hagrid's been arrested."

Both Carewyn and Chester whirled around.

"What!?" they cried in unison.

"How can that be?" Chester immediately followed up, sounding confused. "I didn't even know Hagrid was under investigation -- let alone charged with anything..."

He looked to Carewyn as if to ask if she had, but Carewyn wasn't paying attention. She got up from her chair and strolled around her desk over to Ben, taking hold of his shoulder and steering him into the office so she could close the door.

"Tell me everything," she said seriously.

Ben rested his forehead on his clenched fist as he propped his elbow against the wall of Carewyn's office.

"I was just finishing up my work for the day, when I saw Hagrid by the Floo grates with two Hitwizards, talking to Cornelius Fudge," he explained. "Fudge was apologizing, saying something about 'it just being a precaution' and that he was sure once things at Hogwarts settled down, he'd be able to go about his business as usual. Fudge even tried to tell Hagrid that Azkaban shouldn't really be that bad for him -- "

Ben looked absolutely disgusted repeating back such a blatant lie. Carewyn was just as furious herself.

"'Shouldn't be that bad?'" she repeated, her soft voice nonetheless dripping with horror and umbrage. "What, does he think only violent criminals are affected by dementors?"

"Likely!" Ben spat, his brown eyes flashing with righteous anger. "I went over and asked what was going on, and Hagrid explained that it was because of the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' mess. Fudge didn't seem to want to talk about it and kind of just blustered the same rubbish he'd said to Hagrid -- claimed the Hogwarts school governors had been concerned and he'd thought he should take measures to 'reassure' them and the public -- "

"Reassure them?" said Chester, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "But -- you can't mean -- the Minister can't really think that Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No -- but apparently because Hagrid was expelled right after the Chamber of Secrets opened the first time, Fudge is perfectly willing to throw him under the bus anyway, just to make it look like he's doing something," Ben said vindictively. "Apparently he's letting the exact same thing happen to Dumbledore too."

"What do you mean?" said Carewyn, her eyebrows furrowing.

Ben leaned his back up against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Hagrid said that Dumbledore and Fudge had come to see him at his hut about an hour ago, when Lucius Malfoy crashed the meeting out of nowhere, just to round Dumbledore up and expel him from the grounds. Apparently that snake Malfoy somehow got all of the other school governors to sign off on the proposal."

The mention of Lucius Malfoy made Carewyn's eyes flare with resentment. Of course Malfoy would be the sort to take advantage of a bad situation to try to oust his old master You-Know-Who's greatest enemy.

"But -- but taking Dumbledore away could only make things worse," said Chester. He clearly had a hard time making sense of all this. "Surely the Minister wouldn't agree to that? He's gone to Dumbledore for advice for years..."

"But how could Fudge have arrested Hagrid in the first place?" Carewyn rerouted the conversation sharply. "The Hitwizards can't arrest anyone without the charges first going through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement...how fast must the charges have gone through, for Chester and me not to have heard anything about them?"

"That's because Fudge didn't involve the Hitwizards or the Wizengamot at first," Ben said coldly. "The Hitwizards I saw looked just as surprised by what they were hearing as I was...even if they did end up going lockstep with Fudge and took Hagrid away through the grate anyway. I reckon Fudge just asked Hagrid to come with him quietly, so he wouldn't have to get the Hitwizards involved..."

"Or have his activities draw too much attention," Carewyn finished.

Her low voice evoked the rumbles of an earthquake as she swept to the door. Opening it, she glanced over her shoulder at Chester, her blue eyes blazing with righteous fire despite the stoicism of her face.

"Chester...I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to finish editing the case file," she said curtly.

"What are you planning to do?" asked Chester.

"Speak to Madam Bones. Hagrid needs a lawyer, and I intend to be it."

x~x~x~x

It only took a half-hour for Carewyn to blaze through all the paperwork needed to become Hagrid's official legal counsel. Unfortunately Azkaban's visiting hours were only from sun-up to sun-down, with each visitor only being allowed an hour each day with a Patronus escort either provided by the warden or conjured by the visitor themselves. The conditions were very familiar to Carewyn -- she'd been reminded them every time she chose to visit Patricia Rakepick in her lonely cell block.

When Carewyn finally made it to Azkaban first thing the next morning and was led to the cell Hagrid had been squeezed into, she found the poor gamekeeper crumpled up in a huge ball, sobbing like a child.

"Dad -- 'm sorry, Dad -- "

Even with her Abraxan Winged Horse Patronus protecting her from the dementors' influence, Carewyn could feel a cold, ocean-like wave of despair crash over her, just looking at Hagrid. Her almond-shaped blue eyes welled up with empathetic pain.

"...Oh, Hagrid..."

She clutched the bars of his cell with her free hand as her Patronus swept through the bars, lightly brushing its nose along Hagrid's arm. Hagrid choked, blinking up through his tears as he shakily raised his head.

"...W...wha'...?"

The grief and paleness of Hagrid's usually rosy, happy face broke Carewyn's heart. She could feel her own eyes welling up with traces of tears as she tried to smile at him.

"It's me, Hagrid," Carewyn said gently. "It's Carewyn."

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes widened. Then, just as abruptly, they flooded with even more tears, which streamed down his face like pouring rain might streak down a windowpane.

"...Carewyn..."

He couldn't keep himself from breaking down into full sobs as he crawled over and slapped his oversized hands up against the bars -- they were too small for him to grab them the way Carewyn had. Even so, Carewyn tried to take his hand as best she could, even if it only resulted in her holding his pinky and ring finger.

"It's okay, Hagrid," Carewyn whispered as soothingly as she could. Her Abraxan Patronus gently rested its transparent wing over Hagrid's shoulder and rested its head beside his arm. "It's going to be okay..."

x~x~x~x

It took sitting with Carewyn and her Patronus for a couple of minutes before Hagrid was able to speak coherently. He told Carewyn everything that had happened, including the reason Fudge had thought he could be behind the attacks in the first place.

"...Th' whole lot thought that he'd been what hurt poor Myrtle Warren, bu' -- bu' I'm tellin' you, Aragog wouldn't-a done it!" said Hagrid. "I tol' 'em that at th' time too...bu' only Professor Dumbledore believed me..."

Carewyn nodded. That sounded about right -- for as much as she resented Dumbledore, the Headmaster had always supported Hagrid. And given the Headmaster's own talent for Legilimency, Carewyn suspected Dumbledore knew full-well Hagrid was telling the truth, just as much as she herself was certain of it. But she also knew that her intuitions based on her Legilimency couldn't be used as evidence of either guilt or innocence...and even if Hagrid didn't believe Aragog was the beast from the Chamber of Secrets and Carewyn doubted it as well, plenty of people could see the circumstances as pretty damning, on their own.

"And because no one else believed you, Headmaster Dippet expelled you with the thought that it would make the attacks stop," surmised Carewyn.

Hagrid hung his head. "...Yeah. An' well...th' attacks did stop, after tha'. Dunno why, aside from th' person maybe decidin' t' cut 'is losses..."

Carewyn's lips came together grimly as she looked at the floor. The gamekeeper's face went that little bit paler as his eyes flooded with fresh tears.

"Yeh -- yeh don't think I did it, d'yeh?" he said desperately. "I-I would never! I woulda never hurt 'em -- Nick an' Mrs. Norris, an' -- an' poor Hermione -- oh, Carewyn, I never woulda -- !"

Carewyn gave Hagrid's pinky a reassuring squeeze.

"I know, Hagrid," she said firmly. "I know you didn't do it. All of those Pureblood wizarding families that claimed to be related to Salazar Slytherin have died out -- and trust me, 'Hagrid' was not one of them. And the beast inside the Chamber of Secrets was supposedly put there by Salazar Slytherin around the time he and the other four Founders made the Cursed Vaults, back in the 9th century. Acromantula weren't bred until the 18th century. Aragog couldn't be Slytherin's monster."

Her eyes softened.

"...And I know you, Hagrid. You love everyone at Hogwarts, even the brattiest students. I know you would never do anything to hurt them."

Hagrid's teary eyes crinkled up to make room for a very weak, watery smile.

"...Thank you, Carewyn," he gave a loud sniff. "It...it means a lot...knowin' yeh believe in me..."

Carewyn gave a gentle pat to his hand through the bars. Hagrid gave another loud sniff.

"...D'yeh...d'yeh know if the Wizengamot'll be able t' stop Malfoy? Get 'em t' bring Dumbledore back?"

Carewyn pursed her lips grimly. "There's nothing for them to stop, at present. The school governors' job is to oversee the school and its Headmaster -- them asking Dumbledore to resign is a completely legal action for them to take."

Hagrid looked distressed. "Bu' -- bu' withou' Dumbledore there, everyone'll be in more danger than ever! Professor Dumbledore was likely the only thing that kept th' Heir o' Slytherin from goin' all out -- "

"That doesn't mean the Wizengamot can overrule the governors' decision," Carewyn said sternly. She then said a bit more gently, "...I know how much you respect Dumbledore -- and you're right, Dumbledore has warded Dark wizards away from the school before..."

Not that he was able to prevent R from sending Jacob and me threats, but they still didn't feel bold enough to show up in full-force until Dumbledore was away...

"...But however foolish their decision might be, it doesn't break any laws. And law enforcement is meant for that purpose -- enforcing laws that have been broken."

Hagrid looked incredibly disheartened.

"They're gonna regret it later," he muttered miserably. "Yeh jus' wait an' see..."

Carewyn gave Hagrid's pinky another light squeeze, exhaling quietly through her nose.

She thought so too -- but she was so unhappy just contemplating the consequences that she didn't have to heart to say so.

x~x~x~x

The consequences, as it turned out, were even worse than Carewyn could've envisioned.

After going out for an afternoon coffee break with Talbott one May day, Carewyn found the Ministry Atrium in disarray, with multiple owls flying in and out of the offices of the Minister of Magic and his support staff and nosy reporters crowding around in an attempt to figure out what was going on.

Tonks emerged from the crowd and filled them in -- apparently the reporters had heard rumors that there'd been another attack at Hogwarts by the Heir of Slytherin, this time with a student actually being taken into the Chamber itself. It was only once Talbott convinced Tonks to change herself temporarily into one of Dolores Umbridge's staffers so she could force her way through the reporters and get more information from the support staff herself that she found out who it was -- and when the pink-haired Auror caught up with Talbott and Carewyn in the Atrium, her heart-shaped face was as white as a sheet.

"Weasley," Tonks whispered shakily. "Fudge said the girl's name was Weasley..."

Talbott's shoulders stiffened as Carewyn's hands flew to her mouth in horror.

"Ginny," she gasped.

x~x~x~x

Talbott, Tonks, and Carewyn all bolted to the lift, taking it up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where they could use the Auror Department's Floo Network grate specifically meant for communication. Upon trying to contact the Burrow, however, Carewyn found the house quiet and deserted.

"Are they not there?" Tonks asked Carewyn anxiously as she took her head out of the grate. The ginger-haired lawyer shook her head.

"The school must've contacted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as soon as it happened," Talbott said solemnly.

Carewyn nodded, her red lips knitting together tightly. "I've got to write to Bill and Charlie right away -- "

"I'll go to Hogsmeade," said Talbott at once. "There might be more information, closer to the school..."

"And I'll go back downstairs!" Tonks agreed. "Maybe I'll pick up some more intel, huddled in with all those reporters -- "

The three dispersed, with Talbott and Tonks heading back to the lift and Carewyn heading to her office. Once she'd very quickly written out a letter each for Bill and Charlie and put all of the expediting stamps on them that she possibly could, she then set about writing another more formal letter to Azkaban prison. Then she raced back to the lift, gave Bill and Charlie's letters to the two fastest owls she could find, and then headed straight for the Minister for Magic's office with the final piece of paper in her hand. The tiny ginger-haired lawyer had some trouble pushing her way through the crowd of reporters until Tonks -- disguised as one of them and therefore much taller and more muscular than usual -- managed to push everyone back enough that it gave her an opening.

When Carewyn reached the slightly open door of the Minister for Magic's office, she didn't even bother to knock the way she probably would've in any other circumstance. Quite frankly she didn't think the Minister would've heard her knock even if she tried, and if he did, he likely would've tried to ignore it, given how much owls were swooping in and out of his office and how noisy it was outside.

"Minister!" Carewyn said urgently.

Fudge looked up, incredibly startled. He'd been pacing the room, one letter in his hands and five left more open on his desk. His trademark light green bowler hat was hanging off the side of his high-backed chair, and he looked incredibly harried.

"Carewyn!" said Fudge, trying and failing to smile. "How nice it is to see you!"

Once Carewyn was in, she immediately shut the door behind her so sharply that Fudge gave a start.

"Ah -- forgive me, my dear, but...I'm afraid I'm very busy at the moment --"

"I know," said Carewyn. "Minister -- I need you to sign a release letter for Rubeus Hagrid."

Fudge was taken aback. "Hagrid? I-I don't -- "

"If the Heir of Slytherin has taken Ginny Weasley into the Chamber of Secrets, then he's still at Hogwarts," Carewyn said sharply. "Therefore Hagrid is innocent."

"Well, yes, but...that'll be dealt with, in due time," said Fudge with an attempt at a reassuring smile as he put down the letter in his hands and started to make a stack of it with the others. "I'll be sure to send along a proper letter to Azkaban, once I get these papers in order, and calm the press -- "

"You needn't send anything," Carewyn cut him off firmly. "I've already written out a formal release, and I'll be happy to deliver it myself -- you only need to sign it."

She put the letter down smack-dab in the center of his desk, right on over the stack of parchment he was organizing. Fudge, however, seemed hesitant to look at it, and instead busied himself with consulting the stack.

"Ah, well...I do appreciate your initiative, Carewyn," Fudge said in a weak attempt at indulgence, "but as I said, this...all will be dealt with, in due time. Now I'm truly sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to speak more later -- I do have so much to do, in the light of all this -- "

"Minister!" Carewyn said, clearly upset.

" -- responding to all these letters from the governors, from Minerva McGonagall, from Arthur Weasley -- coordinating a response, for all press releases, and sending it along to the Prophet -- all before heading out to the school myself, to ascertain the gravity of the situation -- "

Carewyn could hear Fudge's rambling, but it was oddly muffled, in her own ears. Because of her Legilimency, she could sense Fudge's feelings wafting off of him just as clearly as she could hear him with her ears -- and in that moment, when she herself was so urgent, all she could feel from Fudge was the desire to run. To avoid, to push away, to ignore -- to not deal with his terrible mistake at that moment, and instead just try to make himself look as capable as he could to the public at large --

All that Carewyn could feel coming off of Fudge was cowardice.

And it was this that made Carewyn cut into his rambling with the cold sharpness of a knife.

"Minister."

Carewyn managed to catch Fudge's eye, and when he made eye contact with her, his voice immediately died in his throat. Her almond-shaped blue eyes were burning with a kind of cold disapproval the likes of which he'd never seen.

"I realize that you wish to be seen as a compassionate and attentive leader," Carewyn said very softly. "But trust that, in leaving an innocent person locked up in a prison manned by creatures that can drive people mad with their Dark aura alone -- when all you'd have to do to help him is sign your name...you currently appear as anything but."

Fudge opened his mouth, trying to stammer out a weak attempt at a stern response. "N-now, Carewyn -- I-I already told you I'd deal with -- "

But Carewyn merely picked up the release letter again and slapped it right back down on the desk in front of him.

"Minister -- you've already wrongfully sent a man to Azkaban before he'd even been formally charged with a crime," she murmured. "All while being quite certain he hadn't committed the crime in the first place, to the point that you reassured him that he'd probably be released 'once things settled down.'"

Carewyn's blue eyes narrowed.

"...Don't shame yourself further."

The Minister's face had lost quite a bit of its color as he stared at Carewyn. He rather shakily lowered himself down into his chair, regarding Carewyn with a wariness he never had before. Then, looking almost cowed, he averted his eyes, reached for the quill in the inkpot at his desk, and signed the release letter. He mutely held the letter out for Carewyn to take.

"Thank you," Carewyn said quietly.

She turned on her heel and headed for the door. When she opened it, ten owls swooped in, flocking around Fudge's desk and raining even more letters onto and around his desk.

"If I may make a suggestion, Minister," Carewyn said a bit more levelly as she left, "going to Hogwarts right now to deal with the problem would both make you look more proactive and give you some relief from all these letters."

Without waiting for Fudge's response, Carewyn left his office. Once she'd pushed her way through the crowd of reporters (even taking out her wand at one point to better coax them back), she dashed over to the closest Floo Network grate, snatching up some Powder in her free hand and chucking it down at her heeled feet as she climbed in.

"Azkaban Prison!"

And in a burst of emerald green flames, Carewyn had disappeared.

x~x~x~x

Once Hagrid had been released from his cell, Carewyn brought him with her to her mother Lane's new cottage, out in the country. The half-giant was still in pretty poor shape after his three-week-long stint in Azkaban, and since Carewyn knew he'd never fit in her tiny London flat, she figured at least Lane's new home would be a comfortable place to get Hagrid fed and healed and await further news from the Weasleys and Hogwarts.

As the night wore on, Carewyn received a few short updates from Tonks and Talbott -- Hogwarts was going to be closed; the girl's parents were at the school; the school governors were convening for a secret closed-door meeting. It wasn't until very early the following morning that Carewyn, Hagrid, and Lane received the news they'd all been hoping for, in the form of a long letter from Mrs. Weasley.

Carewyn dear, Bill wrote to Arthur and me telling me of your letter to him, so after following up with him and Charlie via Floo, I thought it best to write to you straightaway. Ginny is all right. My son Ron, his friend Harry, and their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, were able to locate the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry, bless him, was able to both kill Slytherin's monster (a basilisk! Merlin's beard, I was terrified, thinking of that poor boy facing off against that thing!) and rescue Ginny. Arthur and I are so grateful, even now I still can't stop crying. We're so relieved to know Ginny's safe, and that Ron and Harry are both safe as well. Unfortunately poor Gilderoy Lockhart apparently had his memory wiped...at his own hand, no less! He actually had the audacity to try to modify my son's memory! I suppose it's true what they say about never meeting your heroes!! Oh well, it seems Professor Dumbledore will have to find yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for next year. Oh, yes, I nearly forgot -- Dumbledore has returned to Hogwarts! Apparently all of the school governors (excluding Lucius Malfoy) heard about what happened to Ginny and immediately sent a letter to Dumbledore begging for him to come back. And he did, of course -- he was so gentle with Ginny, after her ordeal... Oh, but Carewyn dear, truly, I cannot thank you enough for caring so much for Bill and Charlie. Arthur had sent them his own letters not long before we left for Hogwarts, but from what I understand, your letters reached both Bill and Charlie well before Arthur's did, and I appreciate you trying so hard to make sure they knew what was going on as quickly as possible. Arthur and I send our love, and Ginny as well. Do consider coming over to the Burrow for a visit sometime soon -- Ginny was a bit cheered at the thought of having "another girl" over for dinner! Your mother and brother are more than welcome as well, if they're available. Arthur would be delighted to know what your mother thinks about pinball machines. All our love, Molly Weasley

Not long later, Hagrid returned to Hogwarts, and Carewyn returned to work at the Ministry. It was when she returned to the Ministry that Carewyn noticed Cornelius Fudge's attitude toward her had gone through a considerable change. When she arrived in the Atrium, she caught sight of the Minister likewise heading into work. At the sight of her, Fudge immediately approached her -- but his smile was not as wide open and overly amiable as it was before.

"Hello, Miss Cromwell," he said.

Carewyn blinked. "...Minister."

Fudge inclined his head respectfully. Taking a quick glance around the Atrium, he then spoke a bit more stridently.

"...Professor Dumbledore told me that Hagrid has settled himself back in nicely. He expressed admiration, for your defense of him...Madam Bones did, as well."

Carewyn frowned as her eyes drifted off toward the lift.

"Hagrid was my client," she said simply. "It was my job to advocate for his well-being. And it wasn't either lawful or right for him to remain imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit."

To Carewyn's surprise, Fudge's pleasant expression actually seemed to crack a bit, betraying something strangely insecure.

"I suppose so," said the Minister a bit stiffly. "Well then, Miss Cromwell...I'm afraid I must be off."

He paused. Then, forcing a slightly more politician-worthy smile, he asked, "I hope...I might likewise call on you in the future...should I wish for an expert legal opinion? Madam Bones does speak very highly of your abilities as a lawyer, you know."

Carewyn cocked her eyebrows in surprise. She honestly wasn't expecting that.

"...Of course," she said, once she'd recovered.

Fudge tipped his lime green bowler to her, before turning and sweeping away toward his office. As Carewyn watched him go, she couldn't help but frown.

It was bizarre -- it didn't feel like Fudge disliked her now or anything after she'd so coldly called him out in his office. Even so, there was a wall around his feelings that wasn't there before: something guarded. And yet it didn't seem suspicious or mistrustful. If anything, it felt almost formal: like Fudge was standing that bit taller and being that bit more detached and dignified than before. Less like he was trying to buddy up to Carewyn and use her as a prop to elevate himself and more like how an employer would treat a high-ranked employee...

And then it hit her.

Fudge had called her "Miss Cromwell." Not "Carewyn," not "Carewyn, my dear" -- but "Miss Cromwell." In the same sort of respectful tone of voice he'd use for Madam Bones and other older, respectable Ministry employees.

He was speaking to Carewyn not like a child that he could coax onto his side through coddling and fawning...but as an adult he wished to coax onto his side through decidedly more political means.

Carewyn's red lips came together tightly as she turned and headed for the lift, tossing her much shorter ginger bob off her neck.

Well, even if Fudge was truly nothing but a politician at heart, at least now he saw her as an adult who wouldn't become his sycophant just because he acted nice to her.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my writing #carewyn cromwell #cornelius fudge #rubeus hagrid #ginny weasley #ben copper #chester davies #nymphadora tonks #talbott winger #lane cromwell #molly weasley #fanfiction #*snorts* sorry fudge but you're never going to be able to coax carewyn onto your side #even if she does end up playing the role of a dutiful subordinate enough that you let her help with the whole high inquisitor thing #she only ends up doing it to rip it down later bc hey someone's gotta put the brakes on your stupidity #honestly carewyn ends up being a really shady b**tch when it comes to fudge despite being such a paragon #but hey in her defense it's hard for her to feel warm toward a guy who was so blind to how toxic and awful her grandfather and uncle are #and who is such a typical politician that he'll cowardly slink around trying to make himself look good rather than really take charge #carewyn is a paragon but she's also a slytherin so she's not above being sneaky or manipulative to achieve her ends

[mojavepumpkin]

"so we beat on, like boats against the current. borne back ceaselessly into the past." (cliche, i know but i can't get over that line)

sunday, march 3rd

haven't written in a while, haven't had my computer in a while. left it home when we went to fernandina. it was a good weekend. i was on my phone more than i'd like to have been, the weather was worse than i'd have liked it to have been. still managed to walk 12ish miles, all in all. the weather wasnt so bad when it wasnt raining. cooler than normal, especially sunday. saturday was nicer, walked 9 miles. had a conversation with a man in a silly hat selling free advice. he was nice but i dont feel all that helped, i still appreciate the conversation.

i am disturbed by my lack of preparedness for this literary thing. i have no idea what's going on, what im really doing, who even is running it. oh well, it can only help me i spose. or i could embarrass myself, but i guess i shouldnt get too hung up on that.

i might be getting a new car, or should i say, old truck. which is exciting. this summer. my car is the most expensive out of all of our cars, it was originally mom's and she gave it to me. the insurance is super high, so once we pay it off (in june), we can sell it and get something thats cheaper for me. it just so happens that i have a cheap taste in cars- or trucks. anyway, i hope we'll be able to find a 1998-2011 ford ranger. a tiny little truck for lil ole me.

anyway. im considering deleting youtube. it's tough. it's definitely my most used social media, and i can say 100% that it has made me better and more informed. if you can call it social media. but its also a big "crutch". eating food? watch youtube. getting ready in the morning? watch youtube. cleaning my room? watch youtube (this one is more understandable.)

given it more thought. i will delete it as an experiment. i think i need to learn how to practice mindfulness instead of consuming content every waking moment of my life. i need a book on it, maybe. definitely.

my mind feels very busy at the moment. let me think. the tv is very loud. i feel very hot. my room is dirty. okay. breathe.

what will happen tomorrow? anything of note? not that i can think of, i might make plans. that could be nice. i like keeping myself busy. i wish i could've figured out plans with J today, but nothing materialized - i just went outside by myself. i haven't read very much. but i haven't been on my phone very much. so i guess i've been doing things. i dont have any homework due. i dont have work tomorrow. i should be happy. i need to return a book to the library, and i cant think of anything else i need to do.

tomorrow might be a good day to walk. i'll speak to some folks. i'm trying to incorporate some more southernness into my speaking voice. idk, i'd like to feel like my voice is some kind of connection to the place from which i originate. i tried so hard to get rid of it, now i dont have it all and want it back. thats life.

despite not having known him for very long or very intimately i see a lot of my grandfather in myself. he has become sort of a kindred spirit i spose, for myself. maybe i do believe in the afterlife, i can still kind of feel him. maybe thats the afterlife we get, the feeling we leave with people. even though he isnt my biological grandfather, he was the only grandfather i knew on that side of my family that i ever knew. and now is certainly the only positive father like figure there. maybe all of those parts of him that are in me now are like little shrines i've built so that he can live on. our love of johnny cash, western movies, ford rangers, and straight-edge shaving. maybe i should start fishing more seriously, honestly i've thought about it often. i'd like to go fishing with a buddy. i just need a pole and some know-how, or my friend being the know-how could work too. i love him very much now, even though he is somewhat of a stranger to me. he loved my grandma, i can see that. i read one of their letters and was moved to tears. life is something incredible.

#blog #post #girlblogging #blogger #reblog #tumblog

[purplefeathersandblackleather]

As the first night of this grueling Christmas shift comes to an end, I find that I am thankful. My bones are wary and the smell of cedar wood and spices fill my sense of smell as I step in through the door of my home. My mother welcomes me, bringing me a change of clothes that she had warmed in the dryer for me, my two canine companions, Diesel and Buddy, rush to me with wagging tails and small hops of excitement.

The sight of the presents under the tree fills my heart with both joy and ache this year, but also a sense of clarity.

In these times when we struggle, there is always someone who has it worse than we do. I think about my losses, I mourn for the ones who are no longer here, but then I remember the people I have helped on the streets recently. I worry for those with nowhere to go and pray for them instead of myself.

This morning I remember my dearest friend @sobeautifullyobsessed who just recently found herself homeless and struggling to figure out where she would go and I pray for her safety and for her to have a warm place to stay and rest for these weary days. I am thankful to all of those who have shown her the generosity she has been given in her time of need.

I think about @fanartka who lives in the Ukraine, who just recently celebrated a birthday in a country devastated by war because the human species is obsessed with power and fundamentally insane. I pray for her and Ukraine, even now when it has been helped by many amazing people, such as Benedict Cumberbatch and many others.

I think of my friend @xeiggerott who has recently lost his job and is now struggling to find a way to buy food and pay his bills. I recently gave him advice on how to clear his Chakras and sent him the most money that I could to help him in this hard time. I am thankful to finally be in a position where I can help someone I consider a friend when they're in need.

My mind wanders of course to Tony and how I wish he was still here to spend this holiday with me. To my grandmother and grandfather, who both lost their lives to disease and should still be here to see this beautiful holiday with us. But I am coming to the end of my grief and finding peace with where I am. They are gone, but never leave from my heart and I hope they found peace in whatever awaits beyond.

As I get ready to lay down and rest for another night of work in the cold temperatures, I hope all of you - my darling mutuals and friends - find some sense of peace and happiness in these days. That there is love for you, even if it's from your fictional darlings, that will fill you with warmth. Thank you, @bakerstreethound for reminding us that there's nothing wrong with still loving our chosen, even if they're not in this world with us.

And thank you, @harlekin6 for always checking in on me when I am wary and struggling. You mean so much to me, my dear. Remember that you are very important to me and I am thankful for you making me feel so important always.

For my darling @cirocity whom I love with all of my heart. I truly have found the source of my inner strength with you in my life and I cannot wait for us to finally meet in March. I love you so much, my sweet butterfly.

To my dearest @icytrickster17 who makes me feel like I am worthy of being noticed. The way my heart lightens when she likes my posts and reblogs anything of mine no matter how dumb it is, makes me feel like I truly am accepted, even if we don't talk much.

For my sweet moonflower @strangelockd who I have just developed such a strong relationship with. I thank you for being my Tony, when no one else would give me what I needed. When no one would help me, you extended your hand and pulled me up so that I could begin standing on my own. I am in your debt, truly.

And lastly, for my most complex and awe inspiring mutual, @stewardofningishzida who I have found so compelling that I consider them someone very important to me on more of an intellectual level. I have enjoyed hearing your stories and reading your writings, and I do look forward to speaking with you again very soon. May the eyes that watch leave you at peace and allow you to rest these days.

You all mean more to me than words, but this will have to do. Good night, my loves. - Steven

#renner ramblings #thoughts and rambles #friends and community #chosen family #five stages of grief #emotional healing #acceptance #loss of a family member #loss of a loved one #things to be thankful for #sobeautifullyobsessed #fanartka #bakerstreethound #harlekin6 #marvel #tony stark #iron man #i love you all #i miss you baby #the only hero of mine #thank you all so much