#something something the use of honorifics and nicknames drops as soon as the others in danger

[automatic-midnight]

Evangelion: Thrice Upon a Time

#Evangelion #evangelion thrice upon a time #evangelion 3.0 + 1.0 #3.0 + 1.0 #nge #ritsuko akagi #misato Katsuragi #something something the use of honorifics and nicknames drops as soon as the others in danger #also while making this gif you really notice how cold the colors are #had to adjust the warmth and saturation to not make everything look so dull #neon genesis evangelion #now that I’ve impulse purchased the pro version of this gif making app I will be making so many Eva gifs #the parallels ough #mari makinami illustrious #cannot stress enough please click on the image for higher quality it it’ll make the background not look like stripes of color 🙂

[namism]

rating names with: sanji

➳ category: in-universe · female reader who uses (but not limited to) she/her pronouns

➳ warnings: a little nsfw, minor spoiler warnings for ep 808/ch 844 and below

➳ notes: i can’t stop writing these short posts but an actual sanji fic is coming soon, trust 🫲 for now, check out my second sanji fic here! i forgot to add tags the first time so it doesn’t appear in searches :(

“Mellorine” - 3/10

Used to be a 7/10 but became a 3/10 at best.

“Mellorine” was Sanji’s default pet name for a woman he was infatuated with before you started dating him, so if he were to see a beautiful girl his first instinct was to suck up to her by calling her “Mellorine,” a unique nickname that has frankly become overused.

Back when you were still crushing on him, you would dream to the moon and back for Sanji to call you “Mellorine” because it meant that he found you just as attractive as the many women he had his eyes on; this desire grew the more you kept your feelings to yourself. He would use the nickname on Nami the most which sparked envy within. But it didn’t take long for Sanji to drop it when he found out that you liked him.

Since then, he would reserve the nickname only for you and mix it with the occasional “(Y/N)-swan.”

Sanji kept calling you “Mellorine” until he began calling you other pet names which he thought suited you better. You were (and are) indeed as sweet as mellorine, but he figured he should find other names for you to go by.

And although being addressed as “Mellorine” had made you the happiest person alive, you were starting to feel a little troubled with it.

Sanji would use it as a default nickname so much that it didn’t feel too special anymore—a little selfish, you know, but it was widely used for other girls that the moment Sanji began using it only for you, it made a few heads turn especially from your crew.

“I thought Nami was ‘Mellorine,’” Luffy wondered aloud, prompting everyone to think the same. Nami glared, then punched him across the face.

“Get the hint, will you?!” she yelled.

It felt like a shared nickname with somebody else, and you weren’t a big fan of that. Hence a 3/10. (You decided to give bonus points for creativity.)

Your name - 4/10

Not bad, but Sanji only calls you by your name if he’s being serious and has something to bring up with a negative connotation or if he’s talking to somebody else and has to namedrop you. You seldom hear him call you by just your name nowadays because he would always prefer adding his famous “-swan” or “-chwan” honorifics.

The most recent memory of Sanji calling you by only your name was when you were still a regular at Baratie, back when you barely knew each other. And truth be told, it wasn’t long until he resorted to calling you pet names to charm you.

“(Y/N)-swan” - 6/10

This deserves a 6/10 (can surprisingly be cranked to a 7 if he calls you this in the right times) because it’s cute and fascinating to hear Sanji’s linguistic habits.

Sometimes he says “(Y/N)-chwan” depending on the mood, but either way you appreciate Sanji’s unique honorifics. It's funny in the best way that he has his own pronunciations and endearing at the same time. Sanji puts a lot of emphasis on his tones, especially in the presence of the ‘W’ in “-san” and “-chan,” which is one of the many things you like hearing the most from him.

He prefers to call you with the “-swan” honorific because it reflects exactly what he sees you as: a swan, an animal of grace, beauty, and intricacy, and he likes reminding you of that because he's naturally transparent with his feelings.

He pronounces honorifics the same way for other women but it doesn't bother you at all; Sanji’s honorific usage might have begun as a flirt tactic, but now that he’s in a committed relationship with you, his usage is more likely out of habit.

“Princess” - 8/10

This can also be cranked to a 9 on the proper occasions.

The One Piece universe has prominent royal bloodlines so calling a woman “Princess” nine out of 10 times means that she is indeed a princess. Sanji knows this very well because he was once royalty, hence why he seldom calls you as such. But wishful thinking betrays you and you've come to love being addressed as “Princess” without telling him.

You don't want to be the daughter of a real monarch—especially not in this universe—because royalty means having to deal with external and internal pressures from your kingdom, and that is the last thing you want to experience. But you and the rest of the Straw Hats once had to play pretend as royals from other nations, so when it came to interaction, you were called "Princess (Y/N)" often.

You were raised far from royalty so the closest you ever got to being a real princess was dressing up and letting your imagination handle the rest. Sanji doesn't know about this silly childhood dream because it was never the topic of conversation, and it's a little embarrassing to converse about it with a former royal so you kept it to yourself and never told anyone.

That's pretty much how you developed a secret liking to the term and it merely intensified when Sanji himself called you "Princess" while in disguise. At the time, you were doing your best to ground yourself to reality because Sanji's form of address meant a lot to you. Not only did it feed into your childhood desires, but it also made you feel special that he saw you as someone worth calling a high rank.

However everything then was not real, and only lasted for a few hours until you and your crew rid yourselves from the island and escaped. Once aboard the ship, it was back to your ordinary life as a pirate.

The nickname “Princess” would only resurface when Sanji unknowingly randomizes the nicknames he should call you or when he lets it slip in bed. He won’t realize it because he’d be too concentrated on something else, but he’ll most likely catch on the more you react to it.

In particular, you always soften when he lets the nickname slip up and get pretty clingy soon afterward. Sanji would suspect a thing you have with the nickname and do a few tests to see if he’s right.

And he is, so he begins to call you “Princess” more often just to see how you would react.

“Angel” - 10/10

A perfect 10/10 including its variants, with “pretty angel" and “angel face" being at the top of the list. It arguably becomes dirtier in bed though.

But Sanji uses this a lot as if it’s your name; your crew’s lineup is basically Sanji, the rest of the Straw Hats, and “Angel.” Though if your name is (even something remotely similar to) Angel, Sanji would use a variant so that it doesn’t feel like he’s calling you by just your real name.

He likes casually calling you “Angel” because it’s a reminder that he sees you as one, and also because it’s easy to pronounce and remember. That way, people would easily know that you’re taken and only his, so he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else stealing you.

Honorable mentions

“Sweet” - Alternatively, “Sweetheart.” It deserves a special mention because it was one of Sanji’s alternatives to “Mellorine” back when he was still getting to know you.

“Honey” - Another honorable mention that can be an alternative to “Mellorine.” Very endearing, and very sweet like honey itself. It was never your favorite, but it did make you smile a couple of times before.

Overall, Sanji’s nicknames for you are more on the sweeter side because he wants you to feel special. He’s open to other nicknames as long as he knows that you feel good about being addressed by it; if you are, then he is more than willing to call you as such to make you happy. If you aren’t, then he’ll gladly stop and apologize.

#op sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji imagine #sanji x you

[acemapleeh]

sending more because i want to give you something to do <3

who cooks normally and nicknames for each other for ameripan + how often do they fight and what would they do if the other was hurt for fruk pretty please !!

So both Alfred and Kiku love cooking and sharing their food with the other. The problem lies in that Alfred tends to overcook. A lot of his love language is making sure his friends, guests, and loved ones are well fed. He's used to Matthew, who, can eat almost as much as Alfred can when he's in a certain mood. Kiku eats in much smaller amounts, preferring to snack more throughout the day and eat smaller meals. Alfred loves Kiku's cooking and finds a lot of comfort in his meal prep and the flavors he uses. So Kiku tends to cook more often between them, knowing the proportions will be better. Alfred is still learning to cook in smaller batches and that he doesn't need to prepare all of their favorite foods at once every time Kiku comes to visit him.

Alfred is more prone to giving nicknames. ‘Keeks’, ‘babe’, and ‘darling’ (southern drawl included free of charge) are the most common and just depend on where they are or the situation. Kiku usually just refers to Alfred by his first name, that alone is intimate enough for him. It was a huge deal when it shifted from ‘Jones-san’ to ‘Alfred-san’ to dropping the formal ‘-san’ and just calling him ‘Alfred’ in private. I’m unsure if another honorific would take its place in an intimate setting as ‘-kun’ doesn’t feel entirely correct so, more than likely, he’ll refer to him by his first name with no honorifics.

Let’s talk about Arthur and Francis again because I have thoughts about them for days. When Arthur finds Francis hurt, the man too weak to hold himself up, bleeding alongside the defeated man of battle, he’ll scoff at his adversity. He’ll likely give him a kick while he’s down, wait for him to get up to fight back. But Francis doesn’t, he engages in their usual banter but it’s weaker than normal, the words not as clever. Arthur continues to try to rally him up but he can see the gashing wound that Francis is so poorly trying to cover with his hand. They keep talking, about whatever philosophical nonsense Francis has in that muddled brain of his. Arthur knows if he can keep him talking, he can try to either get the bleeding to slow or they both wait for death to come.  Francis sees Arthur topple over the side of his ship but as he leans over the railing, the signs of their naval battle quieting, he does not see Arthur resurface. He could hear his men starting to celebrate, their second won battle at sea in this war but his sight is still trained on the water. He goes in after him. To die at sea, to sink to the bottom of her waters was truly a terrible fate to suffer. Not even Arthur deserved that. Francis finds him quickly, bubbles floating to the surface as the last of his air leave his lungs. Arthur’s unconscious form is in his arms when he breaks the surface. The waves are unsettled as they’ve been this whole fight. Tossed over and under again, the sea carries them away from their vessels and onto the shore. It’s hard to tell how much time had passed but Arthur is still pale and the water hadn’t entirely removed evidence of the bloody wound at his chest. Francis kneels in the sand and attempts whatever he can at getting the wound to start closing. Death doesn’t linger long, Arthur is soon coughing up seawater and back to his usual self. He’s questioned why he was saved, why Francis wouldn’t leave him, to let the sea take him. ‘Oh, Angleterre,’ is the only reply before their lips are together and Francis doesn’t care that Arthur’s blood is staining his shirt.

#hws america #hws japan #hws england #hws france #ameripan #fruk #dumb little headcanons #thank you for giving me something to do even if i am very slow at responding :) #i really appreciate it and hope you're getting good content to read haha

[bffsoobin]

Sunny Day Confessions

↳having Beomgyu as a best friend comes with an uncountable number of benefits. You thought that you had come close to experiencing them all. That is, of course, until he offered up his confession on a silver platter and waited for you to make the next move.

➤ fluff, smut, best friends to lovers

Word Count:2,412

Requested?: yes!

Warnings: This includes mature content! Please do not read this if you are under 18 or generally feel uncomfortable!!!! Insecurities, dirty talk, oral (f),use of Noona (not sexually), grinding.

A/N: I feel like I got way too carried away with this so I’m sorry if it’s like way too long or weird. Also this is my first time actually writing smut so I know it’s probably not great but hey practice makes perfect. Also if you’re a person who just wants fluff, you can read up to the keep reading line and that’s all you’ll get! Hope you enjoy! ps I know I suck at titles so I apologize!! 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“Beomgyu, I’m serious! Get back here with that!” you yelled, running through the lush grass toward your best friend who was currently holding your phone hostage. The warm breeze whipped past your face as you ran, carrying the loud laughter of Beomgyu with it as he bounded up to stand on top of a patio chair. With his left hand- which held your precious device captive- raised totally above his head, the height advantage left you no real hope. You whined again and made a futile attempt to jump up to height and snatch your phone only to stumble over your own two feet.

 “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re taller or faster, Noona,” Beomgyu taunted, waving your phone around as it glinted in the sunshine like a trophy. Your nose involuntarily crinkled in disgust at the nickname. You were only a year older than Beomgyu, and you had known him since you were both in diapers and drooling on yourself. Despite your dislike of the honorific, Beomgyu insisted on using it whenever he felt like it. 

“Dude, please. Just give it back. You’re acting like a child!” He only rolled his eyes and continued his waving and sticking his tongue out at you. “What? Are you scared I’ll find something scandalous? We’re all adults here, Y/N.” You heaved a sigh and placed a hand over your eyes, ready to admit defeat from your best friend and just sink into the warm grass. Honestly, he was right. You couldn’t think of anything he could find on your phone that would be very earth shattering. He cheered loudly, taking your gestures as a sure sign of his victory as he began making his own background music to lower himself down from the metal chair with signature Beomgyu dramatics. You plopped into the grass and let him have his moment while you plucked at the pieces of grass resting under your fingers.

His singing came to a halt before you felt him nudge at your leg with his foot a few times. You stayed unresponsive, shutting your eyes against the glare of afternoon sun. Beomgyu sighed, obviously unhappy with your lack of response as he laid down next to you as close as he could get. He latched his hands around your upper arm and shook. 

“What now?” you didn’t even bother to open your eyes, just turn your head to the right to face him as you spoke. 

“Open your eyes, Noona. Please! You can have your phone back,” he was whining now, and you could imagine his lower lip jutting out as he tried to win you over. Upon opening your eyes, you were shocked at just how close his face was to yours. Your noses were just inches apart, and you could make out every single line and dot on the boy’s face in the brilliant sunlight. Long eyelashes brushing over his rosy cheeks with every blink, hair falling away from his forehead in a fan around him. He looked beautiful. You mentally slapped yourself for even forming that thought. He was your best friend, and that was something you would never mess up. And who were you to believe that he would find any interest in you either? Swallowing the lump in your throat, you smiled at him and sat up to snatch your phone from the ground between you. At the exact moment you grabbed it, a notification ping rang through the air. 

Upon reading it, you immediately frowned and made a sound of disgust. Beomgyu was sitting up by your side immediately. 

“Everything okay, Y/N?” You nodded and gave him a noncommittal smile that you hoped would trick him into believing you. He furrowed his eyebrows and sneakily tried to read the text before you could move your phone. You were quicker though, flipping the phone over and dropping it back into your lap. 

You gave another smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes and laid back down in the grass, waiting for him to just drop it all. Huffing again, Beomgyu plopped himself right on your hips, pulling a surprised gasp from your lips as he looked down on you and snatched up your phone. The surprise kept you front protesting as he easily read the text notification that had originally upset you. You watched his face shift from confusion to anger to sadness as he read again and again before glancing up at you. Before he could even speak, you began, “it’s nothing. I just sent her some photos I took earlier and I didn’t think I looked that good in them so I asked her opinion. And yeah, I mean, she’s right. I don’t look good in the pictures.” 

The silence was stifling as Beomgyu simply stared at you. Rustling leaves and the birds chirping at one another became backdrop music to the awkward staredown that had you shrinking under his intense gaze. “Why would you believe any of that? Why would you take her word for anything? You’re beautiful. I’ve always found you beautiful, and kind, and funny, and you’re so smart. You’re perfect.” his voice was soft and caring; akin to the way he would speak to you when you had a headache over school work.

“Beomgyu, please, don’t.” A pit of despair was starting to roll around in your stomach as the position you were in felt way too intimate and his stare much too intense. You were about to ask him to get up, squirm away from his presence and go inside to drown your sorrows in a bowl of ice cream. 

“Don’t what? Don’t tell you the truth? Don’t make you feel better? Don’t tell you to ignore your shitty friend? Don’t tell you that I-” he looks up at the sun, squints and swallows hard enough for you to hear before leaning down even closer to your face. “Don’t tell you that I’m in love with you?”

Your whole world spins, like the feeling you get right before you’re about to puke. You’re too hot, too cold, too confused to wrap your head around hearing the phrase you’d been dreaming of for years. He’s patient, his weight on your hips a constant reminder of his presence. The presence that has permeated every part of your life for as long as you can remember. When you finally work up the courage to make eye contact with him again, a shiver runs down your spine and shakes your whole body. Beomgyu is smirking, reading every inch of your facial expressions before leaning down until your noses touched. Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed a hand on your cheek.

 “Can I kiss you?” He asked sweetly, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the texture of your cheek. All it takes is a nod for him to descend on your lips and give you a small peck, testing the waters before you chase his lips for more. You fumble a little bit, nerves getting the best of you before Beomgyu wraps you back up in his presence, his full lips working magic on the tensions in your body. He still tastes like the strawberries you had with lunch about an hour ago, and you eagerly enjoy the feel of his lips on yours as you part your mouth even wider. Neither of you show signs of stopping until Beomgyu pulls back to heave in a breath and caress your jawline. His lips are shiny and swollen and only make you hungry for more. Apparently, he has other plans as he begins to kiss all around your face until he reaches your neck and your giggles melt into sighs. 

“You sound so pretty, Y/N,” Beomgyu groans into your neck as he continues his assault on your skin. Your head began to spin as you were dizzy on his scent and the weight of his body on top of yours underneath the hot sunshine. 

“We- we can’t, not here,” you gasped and grabbed at his shoulder for leverage as you worked to sit up. He let you out from under his weight and fixed his darkened eyes on you. He held his hand out to you without a word, silently asking for your consent to continue what the two of you had started. To his surprise, you yanked him up by his hand with impressive force and practically ran into the comfort of your air conditioned living room. As soon as you passed the threshold, Beomgyu was back to towering over you and crowding your body with his warmth. His breath ghosted past your ear as he bent down to kiss the side of your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at the movement, and he took your moment of weakness as an opportunity to whisper in your ear. 

A hand slipped under the soft fabric of your shirt as Beomgyu spoke “all those times you told me about the guys you liked, the ones who took you on dates you never really liked, all those guys you let into your bed… I always knew I could be better.” The fabric was pulled over your head, leaving you feeling dizzy. Despite the fog building in your brain, you smirked and began backing towards your bedroom door and tapped at your lips in thought, “Hm, I’m not so sure about that.” A fire sparked in Beomgyu’s eyes, igniting his competitive streak had him surging toward you and ushering you into the bedroom. The door clicked behind him as you laid back on the pillows on the bed and Beomgyu kneeled between your parted legs. Getting an eyeful of the marks on your throat and your breasts on display drew a deep moan from his throat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll prove it to you, just tell me what you want,” he was playing dirty, tracing his long fingers over your inner thighs and waiting for your response.

“You, Beomgyu. I want you,” his hands descended on the button of your shorts, making quick work of them and your underwear in one pull. You shuddered at the exposure and made to close your legs before Beomgyu gave a dissatisfied tut and leaned back to pull his own shirt over his head. Momentarily distracted by his toned body, you whine and almost miss the cocky grin that graces his golden face. He runs his large hands down your thighs, massaging slightly as he parted your legs to expose your core. 

“Look at that. I know nobody else makes you this wet,” Beomgyu mused as he laid himself down on your bed so that he was face to face with your center. Your chest heaved in anticipation, carding a hand through his locks as you tried to think up a witty reply. The boy under you didn’t even give you the chance before descending onto you with an open mouth. You pull at his hair as he slips his tongue into your slit and pushes your knees up to your chest to open you wider. Gasps of surprises slip past your lips as he makes short work of licking up everything your body has to offer him before he pulls away to smirk up at you. His face is red and shiny, lips swollen with his efforts and you moan his name louder than you’d like to admit. He chuckles darkly, wasting no time in going back to work, wrapping his lips tightly around your clit and sucking harshly. More arousal gushed out of you as your whines grew louder, more frequent. Beomgyu returns the groans in the form of wonderful vibrations every time you tug at the locks weaved between your fingers in earnest. 

“Please, please please,” you were losing all sense of self, only caring about the magic Beomgyu was working between your thighs until he pulled away and propped himself up on his elbows. 

“Please what? I know you have better manners than that,” his voice was teasing, but the facade only lasted until you bucked your hips up towards his face in need and pleaded again. “I need you. Beomgyu, please, let me come, I need-”  air left your lungs in a high whine as Beomgyu returned with renewed vigor, licking broad stripes right where you needed his touch the most. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightening as you approached the height of your climax, teetering right at the tipping point and contemplating begging for more until you caught sight of Beomgyu’s still clothed hips grinding against the forgiving material of your mattress. The thought of him getting himself off while eating you out was just enough to push you over the edge as you finally let go with no warning, grabbing for Beomgyu’s hair to ground you as the world spun. He didn’t let up his movements until you whined in overstimulation. Beomgyu sat up on his knees, towering over you as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he wiped the few tears that had welled up in your eyes and pressed a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead. 

“Beomgyu,” you reached for him as he took the hint to pull you up into a sitting position across from him. There was no time to care about the mess between your legs, or the way your head was still spinning a bit. 

“I love you, too. I forgot to tell you earlier. But I have, for years and I was afraid that you didn’t like me back,” your confession lifted a weight off of your chest and caused his eyes to crinkle up at the corners. 

“Of course I liked you back. I think I’ve loved you since like 2nd grade. And you definitely wouldn’t have made me this hard if I didn’t like you.” Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but you couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk that crossed your face as you glanced down to his lap to see the bulge straining against his jeans. Taking him by surprise with a harsh kiss, you laid him down on his back and ran your hands over his soft skin. 

“My turn?” he teased, putting his hands behind his head casually. As much as you wanted to roll your eyes and walk away from him, your blooming admiration won over your instincts to be bratty to your best friend. His breath hitched as you began to toy with the button. “Your turn.”

#txt #tomorrow x together #txt smut #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt fics #beomgyu #my writing #beomgyu smut #txt imagine #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu scenario #beomgyu reaction #beomgyu reactions #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x you #txt fic #tomorrow x together imagine #tomorrow x together fanfic #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together angst #tomorrow x together smut

[lideria]

Lost in Yesterday. | Jeno | Backstory.

➥ pairing(s): jeno x gender-neutral!reader, kind of haechan x gender-neutral!reader

➥ genre: lots of angst, also fluff, somewhat suggestive, royal!au, rivalkingdoms!au, loverstoenemies!au

➥ warnings: swear words, mentions of suggestive themes, themes and mentions of war, themes of heartbreak, themes and mentions of family distress/unhealthy relationship, themes of manipulation, themes of psychological abuse, themes of confusion, drinking, mentions of injuries, mentions of gun use, mentions of disassociation. english is my second language so there might be errors.

➥ word count: 25.6k

➥ summary: the firsts and lasts of a forbidden relationship between two heirs.

➥ songs that have inspired this piece/i recommend readers to listen: lost in yesterday - tame impala, low - lenny kravitz, strangers in the night - frank sinatra, six days - dj shadow, next to me - imagine dragons, don’t you cry for me - cobi, to be alone - hozier, c’mon - panic! at the disco ft. fun, morph - twenty one pilots, moon river - frank ocean, sinking man - of monsters and men

➥ author’s note: THIS IS A REPOST, because tumblr’s algorithm did me dirty and took this off the tags. i dearly hope this does not flop heheh please like/reblog if you enjoy this! because i just about lost my mind while writing! also, a big thank you to my beta readers @shimmershimmernct and @neocity-sarai, you guys are awesome!

➥ sequels: reader’s pov // jeno’s pov

i hope everyone enjoys this, have a great morning/day/evening/night!

The Last Ball

The orchestra remains playing songs in the background even after all the past hours they have done so. Hallways are empty and partially dark if it was not for the moonlight. Most of the staff is occupied with serving the hundreds of guests in the middle wing of the palace— working in the kitchen, in the ballroom and outside stood the guards. The left wing of the palace, the one that is supposedly closed to the guests for the night, is only alive because of the two people running through its moonlit halls.

Jeno is holding your hand as he leads the way, excited giggles making their way out without much effort to stop them. The both of you run up the last set of grand stairs and Jeno runs to the end of the wide corridor. He pushes the doors of the library open rather harshly, making you both stumble your way in. His hands wrap around your waist as he pushes you to the nearest set of shelves. It does not take much time for your lips to meet.

The prince, dressed in a pure, blinding white suit with his jet black hair takes your breath away in the best way possible. He pecks you on the lips so many times it makes you dizzy, steadying you with his hands placed delicately on either sides of your jaw as lingers out some of the pecks into longer lasting, tender kisses.

As always it feels rushed and desperate. Yet so, so precious.

It does not feel like you had enough of him when he places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes while his thumbs caress your jaw. You can hardly see him in the dark, save for his eyes that are sparkling with the weak and pretty rays of moonlight hitting them. He audibly gulps.

“One more,” Jeno whispers before kissing you again. You feel so lost in him that you have to steady yourself to know you still have the strength to stay on your feet. Your hands that had been resting against his chest come up to pull him closer to you, now stationed at his nape. His teeth ever so slightly graze down on your bottom lip, eliciting a breathy hum from both of you at the tension that seems to radiate from where your lips meet— and it clicks in him. That this is not the time or the place.

When he pulls away he takes a couple steps back, and then he smiles. Moonlight barely hits him but your eyes are, at this point, somewhat adjusted to the dark from running through dark halls and semi making out in the dark library. Both of you know why he stops and pulls away too soon before it can go any further. He cannot even kiss you for as long or as hard as him and you would like to, because people would notice from your appearances and the duration of your absence. And gossip was a deadly thing within the royal class.

It was okay. As long as you could escape with him for some time, it would be okay. You two were too used to it at this point.

“You look blinding tonight, your Majesty,” He teases, his eyes curved into the crescents they are. The nickname hitches your heart instantly, triggering all the dreams you know could not come to be. All you can do is press them down in your heart until they become so compact that you feel back in control. Him being there right beside you does not help with the situation in your heart, but the least you can do is to touch him in some way because you missed him.

Hell, you missed him even when he was right there, stood before your eyes.

So you opt to run a careful hand through his soft and silky hair, tidying the mess it had come while running. Realization hits you suddenly then, and your heart picks up again though of causes less pleasurable. “Is Jaemin out? We left so quickly.”

Jeno leaving without his guard would surely create chaos. With the tension the regional monarchies and the state kingdoms were in, and the unspoken arguments and arrogance hanging in the air, any heir even daring to breathe without their personal guards would mean letting them out into the wild with all the dangers and possibilities awaiting. Alone.

And that is a risk none of the kingdoms are willing to take.

The Prince’s eyes flutter a bit, but he sounds somewhat confident. “I was making hand gestures all the time, there’s no way he didn’t pick them up.”

As if on cue, there are loud knocks at the door when you nod. Both of your heads snap at the source of the noise— the doors are then opened even harsher than how Jeno had done some moments ago, and two figures rush in, clearly out of breath.

For a second you dare to think that you have another forbidden couple in the library, but the voice that speaks debunks your theory. “They’re here,” Jaemin breathes out in what could best be called relief. He kneels to his knees and takes a few moments to gulp and recollect himself. His silence is instantly filled, however, with another voice you know all too well.

“Excuse me for dropping the honorifics but for the sake of my poor mother stop doing this to us,” Donghyuck, your guard, complains. Jaemin lets out a laugh and nods appreciatively at his words. The guard carries on with his complaint but not without sucking in a big breath first. “At least inform us of where you’re going so we don’t have to lie through our teeth to the kings and queens while also worrying about your safety. A generation earlier and we would be beheaded if they found out what we’re doing.” Donghyuck kneels to grab at his legs as well, looking at the ground. Jaemin pats his back once in support. “The things I do for this relationship. Really, I would’ve gotten married already if I paid this much attention to my own relationships. I don’t know about Jaemin.”

The guard beside him chuckles. “You and me both at that one.”

Both Jeno and you laugh at their words, too stunned to move from your place. You both give your guards a good few seconds to catch their breaths but Jeno moves towards his guard and best friend before you can even move, waiting for him to groom his outfit and straighten up first. “Did anybody see you?”

The cautious words leaving Jeno catches Jaemin off guard, but he still answers the question rather quickly. “We kept some distance between us until we were out of the middle wing. No one was around after that as far as I could tell.” Upon his words he pats Jaemin on the shoulder as if to say good job, and he mumbles his thanks to both of the guards in gratitude— even though the two of you did not necessarily need them to find you, as in them walking in on you.

Jeno turns to you when Jaemin is done, a warm smile on his face again, probably sharing the same feelings but also knowing the consequences of not being down at the hall for longer than expected. “I will see you in the ballroom, my love.” Affection beams from his words and it makes you incredibly happy, even though you have heard the nickname countless times before.

“Hurry up already, I can hear your father scolding you.” He chuckles a breath and nods at Donghyuck, giving him his recognition and respect, before making his way out of the door with Jaemin trailing next to him.

You sigh when the door closes behind him and his company, knowing this would be the only time you could get to yourselves with him tonight. Just like that, the prince was gone.

Relationships between royals were heavily looked down upon unless they were arranged marriages, because they could bring unexpected feuds, wars, or peace. No royals wanted their love life to affect their politics unless they could impose full control over them. Considering the state the nations are in— with all kinds of political feuds and tight anger in between that waited patiently until it was the time to blow up— your relationship between two heirs of monarchies that have never necessarily gotten along feels all the more forbidden. Even after three years of being steady and having things under control.

Loving him would not be this difficult if it was your ideal world.

“Your Highness,” Donghyuck starts, looking at you with some level of concern. “You should be looking happy. Not like this.”

There is something weird about the way Donghyuck speaks to you. Most probably because of the fact that you have known each other since childhood, there is still a sense of warm and homely friendliness and informality in his words, despite the title he has to call you by. The two of you had met at eight years of age, when his mother who works in the kitchen brought him into the palace that time when his father was sick and she could not take the risk of leaving him alone with an ill man. He had been the first child that you actually made friends with outside the heir community— if it was even one.

Fourteen years of friendship. One of which was spent apart as he was sent away to train to become your guard by your father’s order, and three of which was spent with him as your guard. Mostly with laughs, sometimes with tears, lots of kept secrets, shared feelings and struggles, and helping each other with anything and everything. Donghyuck was your one loyal friend, and perhaps, the only friend you truly had.

Honestly, you could not have asked for a better primary guard. “I am happy,” The words prompt an automatic smile on your lips, albeit one of longing. “I just would’ve loved to dance with him again.”

The First Dance

The first time you had danced together was three years ago, it had also been the day  where  you had completely fallen for him. Years of silently crushing had been leading up to it— momentary glances at the dinner table when his family or yours were doing their yearly rounds of visits followed by shy smiles, playing in the snow when they visited your kingdom of mountains, exploring the beautiful forests of his kingdom of what felt like a sea of green, helping each other with duties that required a second thought, late night talks in the gardens and balconies, watching the night sky with the astronomy-lover prince. Sometimes he would tell you all about it, sometimes the both of you would lounge around and sketch architectural pieces and compete on insults and comebacks, sometimes you would ride horses together— basically, you would share what you loved doing with one another.

For years it felt like a snowball rolling down the edge of a mountain, starting off small but swiftly tumbling and getting bigger and bigger as it made its way down. Surely it would end in an avalanche where the neatly formed snowball would disintegrate into a new spread of snow that would cover every inch of the surface.

The first dance was the scream that caused the avalanche.

Jeno had come to your side in the ballroom full of royal members and the elite class, roaming through an ocean of people just to find you. He had sensed the stress around the hall— the unhappiness that swarmed within the people spread around, and he thought— you were young. In fact, most people in that very room were young except for the rulers. It should feel energetic and fresh for everyone to take a short break from duties and responsibilities. It was a ball, after all. Not a conference. Nor a summit. Nothing political, so why was everyone making it feel like it was? Why would he not ask someone he liked to a dance?

Because that person was you, and your parents’ views did not go hand in hand? Because it was basic and proper political etiquette for him to not ask you to a dance?

Well, that would have just been plain stupid and a shame in his opinion.

“Hey,” He had leant over to your ear while you were looking at some group of people who were dancing away, prompting a little jerk of your shoulders in surprise. It makes him chuckle. “Hello, and excuse you, I don’t think I heard the ‘your Highness’ part,” You had said in return. “I could start some drama with the way you are disrespecting me right now.” He saw your eyes point at a particular group of teenagers your age, ones that were heirs of ‘lesser’ kingdoms— whatever that meant. Just because they did not have much land to rule over. The heirs, though, were known to be quite the chitter-chatters. They were the ones to have a word with if you ever needed some catching up with the society.

Your eyebrows had lifted a bit then in an effort to point them out further, and your finger had slightly pointed at them as stealthily as you could muster. “All it would take is a few words with them and I swear within the next hour everyone would know how you don’t even have the manners to address people correctly.”

That made Jeno start laughing silly, but you protested further. “You should have been at the last Unity Ball. They made sure everyone knew Doyoung and, you know, his now-wife-and-the-queen were a deal. I don’t even know where they spotted them doing what because I sure didn’t see them.”

You chuckled after your words as well, and Jeno could not take his eyes off of you. He smiled fondly, relaxing his linked hands placed at his back. “I was thinking…” He held out a hand, palm looking upwards at the ceiling, relaxed enough that his fingers were not fully straight. “Maybe we could give them something to talk about.”

With a smile, you rolled your eyes. “Jeno, this will give everybody something to talk about.”

Jeno shrugged carelessly with pursed lips. “I know and frankly I do not care. I just want to dance with you.”

It made your heart skip a beat— a couple, actually. He felt the same way in his chest.

And he knew his father would be watching over him somewhere, muttering to his mother about what was he doing and why would he even do that and this is going to raise so many questions but he had meant it. He simply did not care. Jeno also did not care about what your father must think of him. If it was as he expected it to be, it was somewhere between neutral and he is tolerable. Not he is as bad as his father. Plus, if the two of you got into trouble, just how hard could it be when the two of you were the only heirs for your parents’ thrones and had your own duties every living day?

Yes. It would not be much trouble at all.

Perhaps you also had a similar thought process, because you willingly put your hand in his. The two of you walked to the floor and felt gazes shift towards your direction along the way. And then, you placed your hand on him and let him place his hand at the small of your back, linking your other half of hands together.

And you started dancing. In the same way you would have danced with anyone that was not him. As more gazes landed upon the two of you and people watched you dance instead of only seeing you, understanding and observing first hand that being rivals is not applicable to situations like these and that your parents’ disagreement do not have to be yours, you swayed and you smiled and you looked into Jeno’s eyes.

But something was different.

You got lost in his eyes. You felt your breath escape free from your chest at the feeling of his hands holding you, and your heart started beating at a much faster, hypnotic rhythm— like that of a horse’s trots when it is set free to run around. And honestly, you got lost in the feeling. The feeling of being able to say so much when none of you are speaking. It was comfortable. It was strengthening. It was freeing. Fresh, warm, calm yet exciting.

Maybe he had felt the same, because you could feel his hold getting tighter and his gaze fonder by the second as you danced.

Jeno and you colored your way through that year’s annual visit, the usual black-and-whiteness of it nowhere to be seen.

The Last Official Visit

“Mere years ago I thought it couldn’t get any worse,” You mumble quietly as Jeno and you walk your way to the dining hall. You are making sure you keep your voice down so as to prevent the staff— especially the educational staff— from hearing your complaints. Both of your hands are at your sides lightly brushing against each other’s. That is the most affectionate thing you could do when everyone is around, really. “Having too many lessons on too many subjects in one day and somehow trying to keep all of them in my mind so I can have a shot at being a decent ruler,” Jeno hums in agreement and nods a little, waiting for the actual complaint to come. “But now that I’m actually getting closer to the being a monarch, everything’s just.. I think my head will crack open if I need to memorize anything more about law. Do you ever feel the same?”

From the corner of your eye, you can feel a staff looking at you with judging eyes, so you feel inclined to add the honorific. “Your Highness?”

Jeno chuckles as you turn around the corner and nods enthusiastically, when both of you notice one of the head guards and all three of you bow a bit in greetings as you pass by each other. “I can relate to that. For me having to deal with and participating in the military is draining as I get older. A lot of the time I just want to be able to learn things I want to learn. Astronomy, music theory, science…”

“Nothing to do with politics, I know.” The two of you snicker at his words and yours. You really knew. Jeno, if there were any other heir, would give up his place on the throne immediately— because he hated politics. Not the study or the theme itself as he knew its importance because of his first-hand experience, but he rather hated the reality of being a politician. Every word he says, every action he does, and every step he takes is closely monitored and very likely to cause major changes. And he hates that. Jeno is the type of person that is more reserved, dependent on his privacy, someone who wants to engage in his own interests as he thinks it is the major way to preserve inner peace throughout his life. He wants to live an enjoyable life, understandably.

“How are things going with your father?” You ask him upon the topic with a hopeful tone, knowing it is a bitter one, and thinking that maybe asking about it while you are moving and loaded with sensory surroundings could give him the benefit of swiftly giving the answer without much occupation in his mind. “Not great. I cannot seem to make him happy, ever.”

The answer hurts your heart because it is true. Jeno’s father is never happy with him, as he is a man washed over with his own ideals and denies any alternatives. In his views, it is almost like Jeno has to be exactly like him to be a good king. Ever since you met Jeno around twelve years ago now, his father has bothered you and not only because he is the King of a rival monarchy.

The worst part is that his mother never raised her voice about it. Even though she is much more affectionate towards Jeno and  seems to approach him with love unlike the King.

“He was really upset with my performance in the military last time. Said I had to work harder if I wanted to be a lieutenant.” He adds with a barely audible huff, the two of you slowing down as you spot the doors to the dining hall. You frown, and it is audible when you speak. “We have to endure it just a bit more. It will all work out in the end— we always make things work, right?”

With that Jeno smiles assuringly. You feel his finger caress the back of your hand a couple of times as his eyes point downwards with the force of his smile. “Yes, my love. We do.”

Just out of the doorkeepers’ reach, you whisper to him. To reassure him, and to give him strength, and perhaps to apologize to him about nagging him on a topic he does not like to mention. “I love you.”

He whispers back. “I love you too.”

The two of you share a fond smile that lasts a couple of seconds before taking the last few steps to the entrance and the doorkeepers open the doors for you.

Both of your parents are seated at the table, with yours at the opposite ends of the table and his on the left side. Your parents look delighted to see you both, and his mother does look content too, but his father not as much. It is less than surprising to you at this point, but you still want to be naive enough to believe his face looks so down because of the political tension  he had with your parents and not because he genuinely disliked his son and you.

Bowing your heads slightly in greetings at the Kings and the Queens, both of you start making your way to your seats.

“Father,” Jeno greets him with a smile of his face that is rather mocking, as he walks over to them to sit at the assigned chair between his parents.

“Son,” His father greets back, watching Jeno’s movements. The King sounds stern and less than moderately content which makes you furrow your brows as a staff pulls the chair for you to sit down on the right side of the table. You realize how your chair is the only one on the right side even though the table is big enough to host grand meals and it makes you wish that the seating plan could be in a way that could have both Jeno and you sitting at the same side. Because you do not want his father to converse with him and be in close proximity to him, where he can bother him all he pleases.

Contrary to all your thoughts, though, Jeno looks okay. He places his hand on his father’s shoulder as he sits down, and turns to his mother to take her hand in his before placing a kiss at the back of it. Jeno whispers something to her that makes her smile bright, her eyes sparkling at her son, and then she brushes some of his hair that has fallen behind his ears. You can hear her asking Jeno about how his studies have gone, along with the duties he had to take care of that day that were just some document work.

Jeno tells her it has gone well, that he has taken care of everything and even has gotten a head-start on his work for the next day. She praises him in return and cups his cheek, turning back around to the table thereafter.

When the attention is at the table and the first course is served, your father takes his glass of fine champagne and lifts it up slightly with a smile on his face that you know is only professional. Him and your mother dislike Jeno’s father just as much as you do if not more for his political stances. “I’m happy we can all gather here annually and share food, thoughts and words with each other in peace even though we are not necessarily on the same side of ideas, and I’m raising a toast for everything to stay this way— in peace— for the eternity to come.”

Me too, you think. Both Jeno’s parents and your mother raise their glasses to meet your father’s with two genuine smiles and one quarter-meant. You raise your glasses as well with Jeno and say your cheers after they do so.

Jeno winks at you before taking a sip when he lifts his glass up to his lips, and you know that it is the two of you that wants your father’s wishes to come true probably the most as you smile.

The First (and Only) Time You Got Caught

It had happened on one of your yearly rounds barely a full year after the annual Unity Ball, in which he had finally collected the courage to tell you about his feelings and asked if you felt the same as you two danced with a beautiful smile on his face— presumably because it was the only time the two of you could truly be alone without your primary guards on your tails.

“Can I tell you something, in all my seriousness, your Highness?” He had asked with his hidden smile on his face, the one where the corners of his mouth were not pointed upwards but there was still a very noticeable amusement on his face. Teasing a bit, if you will. “I have a feeling that you will even if I tell you you can’t.”

Jeno had tilted his head at your words. “You are right, but only because of the heaviness of my words. I really would not tell you otherwise.”

He took a breath, and when he spoke again, it was with a much lower tone. A tone where people dancing near you would not have been able to hear it but only you would, as his voice got drowned out by the sounds of the piano and the violins and the cellos and every other instrument. “I think a lot whenever I see you and spend time with you,” Then, ever so slightly he leaned in a bit closer. “And what I think is always good and relieving. You make me feel like I can drop my mask off with you: the mask I keep on my face at all times. It is incredibly easy for me to be myself around you because of the way you are, and I appreciate you for that. But for a long time now I’ve been feeling like this appreciation and awe I have for you,”

Your brows furrowed a bit at his words as confusion took over you, and he let out an airy laugh at that before picking his words back up. “Has evolved into something much more. Something much bigger and stronger. Something that tells me it is you, and I am okay with that. I can and I do accept that, and I just wanted to tell you because it is so hard not to anymore.” Another breath. This time he leans back again to regain his composure. “But you should know that I will understand if you do not feel the same way about me, or do not want to have what I would like for us to have.”

The two of you continued to dance, making sure your waltz steps were matching both to each other’s and to the music playing in the background. Shocked would have been an understatement for what you felt— not because it was a surprise that he felt that way about you as you were sure the mutual attraction was real before, but because he actually told you. Moreover, because he wanted something with you in the same way you did with him. It was only when you could wrap your head around it that you let out a bright smile with a squeeze on his shoulder. “This is so hysteric.”

Jeno had shook his head in a questioning manner upon your words, but had immediately relaxed upon the ones that followed soon after. “I do. I do want to have that very same thing, because it is you for me, too.”

Needless to say it had been a tad bit difficult after that.

As it was with all new lovers, keeping your hands or eyes off from each other was quite frustrating and a demanding task. You could really only love each other physically when you were completely alone; could hug when you were alone, could kiss when you were alone, could hold hands when you were alone— being alone was a treasure. And for the communication bit.. well. Communication outside of blatantly seeing each other and talking was a non-existent concept.

But you made it work. Even at its first stages, your love had proved to be stronger than the obstacles. The two of you would find a way, eventually.

Perhaps, the one time you were not alone while you displayed your affection was the door opening to communication outside of seeing each other and between the distanced kingdoms.

The two of you were on your way to the greenhouse outside in their garden to have tea with your families, the sun shining through the big windows— not a sight you could always have in your palace as the country was usually covered in snow whether it be a light cover or a heavier one. You loved how green their palace was. It felt like an explosion of colors after staying months on end in your palace until you started your yearly rounds, visiting every single kingdom over the course of several weeks.

Maybe it was what made you more lively, too. More loving, because you do not think there could be any explanation as to why the Prince’s speech on the whole history of the foreseeable future in space sounded so charming to you. “Kiss me.”

Jeno stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden demand. You did too, and could not help but snicker at his widened eyes. “Pardon me? We’re literally in the middle of the hall, dove.” Which was true, but the hall was empty. Completely empty, as the transition halls were some of the most unoccupied during the daytime. Had it been nighttime, it would have been a completely different story. “Where’s the beautiful and bold boy that did not care when he was asking me to a dance in front of everyone in the royal and elite class?”

He chuckled at that, amused and somewhat bothered, but lighthearted. “We’re too out in the open. It would be a disaster if anyone wanted to change wings and walked in on us.” At that you let out a frustrated sigh, laughing a little at him with a slight roll of your eyes. “Just kiss me, Jeno. There is no one around.”

Maybe it is the fact that you asked him for the second time, or that he felt the sudden bravery rush over him, but he did kiss you then. With an amused smile spread over his lips he had leant over with his hands still placed on his back— presumably because it would have made pulling back easier had it come to that. It was a sweet kiss despite the frustration the two of you had in store just seconds before he did so, his lips soft yet firmly on yours as he started kissing your demand and his worries away in a careless moment.

It felt good to be careless for once. To melt into the environment, to feel one and to feel whole by taking only one risk.

Until the sound of laughter echoed through the hall, that is, and the faint footsteps grew louder in sound as the people they belonged to got closer. The footsteps were approaching rather quickly, and Jeno tried to pull away from you muttering something along the lines of see, someone has to come here just to ruin everything but you did not let him. Instead, you pulled him in closer with hands placed on the other’s jaws.

Honestly, you two really could not care. Especially after the laughs got recognizable to you long before they did to him.

And as one would have expected the steps came to a halt once they entered the hall, however as one would not have expected while you were just pulling away from each other.

If you had to stay positive about it, it was an immense embarrassment for both of you. Them possibly seeing you in that state was not something the two of you would have wanted nor planned; the plan was to pull away just before they came in, and you had failed miserably.

It would be fine, though. They were your primary guards. One of whom looked shocked beyond belief, and the other looked a bit uncomfortable. Nonetheless, they were your primary guards and your own closest friends. If anybody could be trusted, it would be them.

“Oh my god. Oh, my god.” Donghyuck rambled, mostly in disbelief and possibly a bit nervously as they kept on walking over to where you and the Prince were standing. “I can’t believe I just witnessed that, you were kissing, weren’t you?” The last part of the question had come out in the lowest whisper he could muster, and Jeno only nodded. It was not his proudest moment for sure if you took the slight blush on his cheek to account.

Mentioning what had been going on between you to them had been out of the question for so long in a dire attempt to protect yourselves from any and all eyes— even theirs, that are supposed to watch over you. Maybe if it was not for this moment you never would have told them as the nature you two held had been too cautious to do anything up until now.

The guards seemed to get even more distressed at that, especially your friend of eleven years. He turned to Jaemin with his hand in his hair, eyes closed, and his face genuinely upset. “It’s too early for this. I’m on my first year of primary duty and this is what you do to me?”

At his words, the Prince beside you cleared his throat, and everyone turned their gazes towards him. “I know this must have come as a shock to you, but we are still two heirs you are talking about.”

Donghyuck tilted his head then, and pushed his tongue against his cheek at the comment, chuckling a little as he placed his hands on his hips. “Well, your Highness, one of them happens to be my best friend of years— and for the record, I think we have well given up on the professional distance protocol at this point.”

That made Jaemin bust out an actual laugh, prompting Jeno to glare at him and the guard to simply shrug before apologizing. “Donghyuck,” You snapped at him with a warning tone. “Keep your composure.” The only voices inside the hall or at the close distance around the hall still happened to be the four of yours, which was rather fortunate considering the last few moments.

“Just let us forget about this, your Highness,” Jaemin suggested to you with a calm manner. “Both of us have vowed to be loyal to you two. Not a single word would leave from our mouths regarding this.”

And that happened to be the best thing Jaemin had ever said to you. For him, and the stressed guard beside him, it was probably the most unfortunate thing that ever did leave his mouth. A smile spread on your face as the idea hit, and Jeno must have thought the same because you saw him jerk a little in his place in a moment of eureka. The guards knew something (or anything, for that matter) would not be going their way as the same kind of knowing smile spread across your faces simultaneously.

“Vowed to be loyal, you say?” Both guards nodded when you asked, and Jeno followed suit with his own question. “And what if we asked you to help us with finding places for us two to meet at?”

The Last Promise

It is a pretty night.

The nights at your palace are always breezy and cold at the right amount: bearable with the right attires, and the type that is a dry cold where the humid cold that might stick on you is never a problem that passes through your mind. Moonlight is bright in the open sky. The stars are visible and scattered across the night like wild flowers scattered across a field. The snow is a thick blanket on top of the ground and under your feet as you sit at the entrance of the abandoned and long-out-of-use tunnel.

Jeno looks pretty, too. Despite traveling for a long time and having to cover everything up at such a time where having this relationship is even harder than it has ever been, he is glowing with pleasure. His eyes constantly seem to smile, and his skin glistens under the shifting rays of the moonlight as he speaks to you. You both were catching up on the last few weeks where you have not been able to see each other and only could deal letters to one another through selected staff that were being paid in exchange of keeping your long-going secret. A lot of it was through affection.

Jaemin and Donghyuck are guarding far in front of you— Donghyuck farther than Jaemin, keeping an eye out for the rest of the palace that was surely asleep and in the distance as the other watched out with binoculars for royal photographers. They seemed to be everywhere after noticing the drama and feud-filled relationships of the recent royal class, and they were insatiable.

“I feel so on the edge whenever I have to talk to anyone lately,” You confess to Jeno as he looks deep into your eyes. “Even on phone calls, and even though I am not my father but just a representative, everyone treats me like I am some manure sticking to their shoes.”

The Prince laughs at that, holding your hand in his and lacing your fingers without taking his eyes off of yours. “You could not be farther off than manure, my love. These are trying times for everybody is all.”

“Which is exactly why I think they should be more compassionate,” You add with a huff of frustration, a pout on your lips. Jeno lets out a breathy chuckle as he leans over and places a chaste kiss on them, before turning back to his seat. “Are you cold?”

“Not really, why?” You ask. “The tip of your nose felt really cold.” With that, he looks down at your linked hands and shrugs a little. “You could go inside. I don’t want you to be cold because of me. I got to see you, and that is what matters.”

“I am not cold. I want to stay here longer.” He smiles at the attempt to reassure him, starting to play with the tips of your fingers. Squeezing them, touching them with his own, fiddling them mindlessly. “Good.” There is a slight relief at the way his word sounds, but it is nowhere to be found with the words that follow. “Listen,”

You know what that tone means, and it means that he is being dead serious. “I don’t know if you have noticed anything about it, but there is a big likelihood that a war is coming. Some areas are already in conflict,” You had known about it a little, as the military paperwork seemed to mount up on your table about the raise of the aids and what-not— but you had not seen or heard any plans of an attack. Jeno gulps as he picks his head up to look into your eyes again. “My father just assigned me to the troops located nearest to the conflict zones as a lieutenant today and I have to be there in the morning,” A breath before he concludes his words. “I will have to fight at the warfront when it breaks out.”

His words struck you harder than you would expect it. Jeno does not say if the war breaks out, no, he says when the war breaks out. And you know he is more invested in the military than you ever will be, so his words hold an impeccable reality to them. It gets you feeling terrified because a war is a war and there is no sense of security in it, and he will have to be in the midst of that chaos fighting; and it gets you feeling angry, because how could his father do this to him? “Aren’t you his only child?” Your breath hitches as you ask, and you feel the warmness at your eyes. “Why is he sending you?”

“Because I have been training my entire life and he said he trusts me now.” Somehow, you think, and a good part of you believes that his father is only doing this because he is too much of an arrogant himself to go fight. That his father is doing this only because he wants to keep his place on the throne as long as he can. Because he is the type of person who makes you really believe that he could have been the best alchemist considering he is so selfishly determined to stay on the throne that he would have probably found elixir of life.

And you see the ugly reality that his father does not care if something happens to Jeno during the war. It breaks you that Jeno sounds so hopeful when he says his father trusts him.

So in a moment of selfishness, you ask him. “Jeno, what if you die?”

He seems to get alarmed at the point where your voice gets shaky, and he tightens his hand around yours, leaning in and placing his other hand on your cheek as he stares deep into you, trying to reach your heart. “I won’t.” He shakes his head to further emphasize. “I won’t die. I have so much to do— we have so much to do still. I will come back,” Jeno’s thumb on your cheek rubs the surface firmly, his palm growing warm now. “I promise, my love. We must hold on for a little while longer.”

A part of you thinks why can you not see it? Do you really not see how your father is using you at a matter like this? How he is using you as a pawn and as a puppet, a mere imitation to his presence at the warfront?

But the other part of you says that what is done is done. That there is no way to hold him back from going after being assigned. And that very same part also notices how confident Jeno is being about this, and yearns to believe that his father had told him truthfully that he trusts him now.

So you give him the benefit of the doubt, for now.

You nod at the Prince with a tight smile. The tears had not even arrived at your eyes because you wanted to keep him from getting upset because of your reaction, especially when he would be the one rushing to his destination to arrive by the morning and would involve himself in something way beyond training. With a turn of your head, you kiss his palm and nuzzle further into it, and he lifts your hand in his to kiss it. He does not pull your hand away from his lips and lets you recollect yourself with your eyes closed for a few moments.

“Love,” He whispers after some while. You open your eyes to meet with his fond ones that are looking at you, adoring you. “I need to ask you something before I go.”

You nod once again as he pulls his hand away from your cheek, and you start following the movement of his hand. It goes to his chest pocket on his jacket and digs something up into his palm before holding it in between the two of you.

Then he opens his palm with a smile on his face.

You notice the bunched up chain before you notice the sparkles that reflect the moonlight. And when your eyes fall onto them, there is a ring. A ring. With many small crystals all over it instead of a single or a few big ones. It looks delicate and easy to hide, with a simple knot to its shape and nothing else.

It means the world to you.

“This is not much of a surprise considering the amount of times we have spoken about the future, but,” He squeezes your hand. “Every time I look at you, I do not even dream about it anymore. I see it. And I want it. Because my heart says that it will always be you. Every day, every time. No matter what. Because I love you that much, and I want to go away this time knowing that when I come back to you, you will be my future and I will be yours.”

A bright smile that is a contrast to the dead of the night, yet one that matches his spreads across your face and he knows the answer then. But he asks the question anyway. “Would you do the honor of taking my hand in yours for the rest of eternity?”

The tears rush to your eyes and break free in a matter of maybe a couple of seconds if not within the same second and you nod. A tsunami-worth wave of emotions hit you; sadness at still not being over the fact of the war that was surely coming, happiness at the reality that you will get to keep your love for the rest of your life, nervousness at the uncertainty of it all, him going away and his father, but mostly— finally. Finally, finally.

Not finally, he asked me to marry him but finally, we are moving to the last stage of everything. We have fought for so long, and we have endured so much, and we now finally get to move onto the time where we get to be us without the obstacles. Everything is finally truly paying off.

With a smile on his face and his own unspilled tears in his eyes, he reaches over and puts the necklace on you and tucks it in to your night attire, patting the place the ring extends to. And he lets you kiss him afterwards.

He pulls away, though, before any of you can open your mouths and before the kiss can turn into anything less gentle. “I found a place. The registrar agreed to wed us in impartiality, and told me we could have a small and serene ceremony.” You listen to him with a newfound spark in your eyes that make Jeno fall for you all over again, your hands on his jaws. “You will love it there. It is deep in the forest and the road is really worn, but it only secures us further. No photographer would be able to follow us. There is a lake and lots of different trees varying from the rest of the forest at the ceremony area, and the place is so pretty at night with dim lights everywhere. It is really quiet, and the staff are very kind.”

Your lips land on his again with a quick and messy smooch, and he can feel you giggle into him. When you pull back you bite down at your lip in a smile washed over with excitement. “That sounds like a dream, Jeno.”

“I’m afraid it will all come true, your Majesty.”

Jeno laughs against your lips when you crash them onto his again, and lets you climb into his lap when you make the move.

The First Escapade

Your heart, for the lack of a better word, was racing.

Donghyuck was leading you somewhere. Neither of you were talking much, even the steps you were taking had to be calculated and soft so as not to alert any other guards that were on watch that night. Moving through the halls was a scary, almost foreign feeling— you would usually breeze through them. But not this once.

He had woken you up with a knock at your door, telling the doorkeeper that there was a minor problem with your belongings being sorted for the upcoming tour through the country that had to be sorted immediately according to your liking, and had taken you through the halls and down the many stairs. Most of which you had not once used in your life, and were widely used by the staff only.

He was good at distracting people, you had come to learn. The amount of people he had lied to and distracted by saying there was a problem with power shortage (which there was, and it was him that caused the shortage in the first place) and it had to be repaired but there were parts that had to be bought from the town (with all the businesses listed), and that the other group of guards would be coming to replace them would have been impressive even for politicians. And that was only the first of the lies he had told people that night.

Through the countless halls and stairways you passed through, you finally arrived at the basement. You had never been in there before, and it was a basement for basically just about anything— cars, old furniture, old belongings, a lot of scraps and some things covered with big, beige and gray drapes.

“We’re almost there, don’t worry.” Donghyuck had told your sleepy yet very much amazed self, bothering to turn around and laughing at whatever your expression was. You trailed behind him to the deeper corners of the basement, letting him lead you until he stopped in front of a group of furniture and what looked like instruments all bunched together.

“Is this it? They are surely not coming from the big entrance, and I would like to think you are not talented enough to smuggle them all the way inside here.”

There was a chuckle that echoed after that. “I don’t know whether you complimented or insulted me,” He was holding off on the honorifics seeing they could give everything away if someone had been watching, or were on your tails, or simply heard you. “But for the record, no they’re not.” And with that, he starts moving the old piano and the bigger pieces of furniture like a wardrobe and bookshelf— moving the rugs away and pushing the boxes with his feet until the metal square made itself apparent.

Donghyuck put the furniture he had pulled away in a way that would cover the two of you, a furniture wall if you will, and set the boxes on top of each other inside the wall as well as planting the rugs upright to imitate a cramped space behind the belongings.

It was kind of terrifying how good he was, and you could only hope he had learned such things in training.

Once he was done, he put a hand on his hip and pointed at the trapdoor. “We’ll be going in through there. It opens to the tunnels.”

The tunnels? They were more than a couple hundred years old, and supposedly in unusable condition, completely blocked. “I thought the palace was built on top of them to cover them up.”

“It was, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t an opening to it. Only the King and the architect personnel know about this I think, someone I know mentioned that he wanted to rebuild the collapsed part back up once.” He shrugs. “But he apparently gave up on it after noticing it had gotten visible to the surface after the heavy snowfall made the dirt on it collapse. We’re going to that end now, and trust me when I say no one ever goes there.”

Going through an old trapdoor proved to be harder than you initially thought. The old ladder was slippery with whatever it was, most definitely not fit for two people, and a bit shorter than the drop down.

It took quite a bit of speed walking to get to the end Donghyuck was talking about, and it was mesmerizing to you how there was this complex system of tunnels with brick walls and cracked stone with small hints of life whether it be plants that made their way in through the cracks or bugs, or the occasional stray cats.

But when you reached the end, there they were. The two silhouettes at the opening of the tunnel system and the collapsed remainder of it behind them. Moonlight was shining through in between and around them as they chatted, both of their shoulders shaking with slight laughter. Although you could not see them, you knew which silhouette belonged to the Prince. Maybe because of the way his shoulders shook, or rather because you had known him for so long already that you could basically find him with your eyes closed if you had to.

The silhouettes turned towards you at the sound of your footsteps when they were audible to them, and you could see the smile on Jeno’s face even in the shade of the tunnels. Automatically you smiled back at him and hurried into his arms that welcomed you, hugging into his chest with a happy chuckle. He kissed your cheek, breathing in your scent, and nuzzled his forehead against the side of your face and neck much like a cat as he cozied against the crook of your neck for a brief moment.

He had his hands on your shoulders when he pulled back and took a look at you. “How are you, dove?”

You smile. “Sleepy, but otherwise well. You look far better than I do.” Jeno tilted his head with his eyes squinted. “I’m sleepy as well but the cold has a way of waking people up.” Not to you, after so many years of living here.

When he noticed Donghyuck who had been standing next to you for a few seconds at that point, he asked him about his well being and inevitably cut through his conversation with Jaemin with an apology to be polite. The two guards had been standing at a bit of a distance in order to give you some personal space, you noticed.

Then, he addressed them both in his gratitude. “Thank you for taking the time out of your sleep to make this possible for us,” When he said it, he meant it. You got two bright smiles in return, and words followed those of two of your favorite people in the world.

“We vowed to be loyal to you, to protect you no matter the circumstances and to keep you in safety, your Highness,” Donghyuck quoted the same way once how Jaemin had done. But his smile spread a bit further across his face as he looked at the two of you— with you leaning into Jeno’s side and his hand placed at your waist, almost back-hugging you as he tried to warm you up with his body heat, both of you oblivious to your states.

“And beyond that, we just want to see our best friends happy.”

The Last Wound

To say that the war had broken out would be a severe understatement.

As if on cue, mere weeks after Jeno’s words governments and monarchies around the world had started declaring war against nations upon nations, showing their feuds and unmet requests as the reasons. There were sides that were established; sides that your father refused to be a part of, hiding in the safety of neutrality for the time being. That being said, the military was still getting aided economically and personnel-wise, guards being transferred into several military branches they could serve in without much training and folk (usually the ones that were severely affected by the financial hardships of the war) taken into the accelerated guard training. There were many faces all around.

The land, thankfully, had been secure so far except for the economical burdens. People were still reliable. The monarchy and your family continued to be respected, presumably because of the immense effort your parents and you put into making feel everything as normal as you possibly could.

But news came in every single day, sometimes more times than you could count, and they were scary nonetheless.

Some nations were fighting on land, some at sea, some in the air. There were too many people that had lost their lives for absolutely no reason that should concern them and their words and actions. Too many had been left in poverty, in famine, in conditions that no human should be left in. Too many homes destroyed, too many businesses left unrecognizable.

Theoretically you had known it all. All your life you had been educated on the possibility of this exact situation. War and its consequences were something you knew too well already, but it was much different to experience it first-hand. And you were not even experiencing it truly first-hand, the people were.

Your routine had changed for the past few months as well. Everything was fast paced. You would be woken up in the mornings either by Donghyuck or your doorkeepers, and would immediately go to have breakfast, checking several newspapers in the process while listening to your father’s senior advisor read out the papers that had arrived that day and summarize the reports of the past days. Then you would move to your office to deal with all the paperwork that were unnecessary burdens on your parents’ shoulders. They would be taking care of calls and meetings while you dealt with the maths and the written bureaucracy. That would go on until it was late in the night and you had to go to sleep to start all over again the next day.

One of the most concerning facts was that you had not heard from Jeno in months, aside from the rare shared secret phone calls between your primary guards and the one letter he was able to send at the very start of things. All you knew was that he was not dead, according to the countless newspapers you had read so far.

And that was all that mattered.

Surely there were days where you were more concerned about him and his well being, but you tried to keep your attention on your work and your people. The distraction, and the fruits of your hard work helped to keep you in line.

It is on one night where you are lounging around with your family in the library to read and forget about the problems a little that Donghyuck barges in, but with a few knocks beforehand in proper etiquette.

He bows his head in greetings when your heads turn at him, and when he picks it up, you can see the slight panic on his face. “Good evening your Excellence. Your Majesty,” Then, he physically turns to you, pointing his feet at your direction where you  stood, picking out another book. “Your Highness, I have the car ready.”

You furrow your brows. “For what reason?”

“There is a tree selection going on to be distributed to people in need,” Your father says without glancing up from his book. “You have been working so hard lately and you hardly even go out to the garden. You deserve to take a breather. Go and take your coat.”

So you do.

Hurrying to your room, you ask for a staff to give you your coat and gratefully receive the help that they offer when they dress you. Donghyuck walks after you, waiting for you just outside of your door. When you come out you realize the restless look he has to his body. Especially when he starts speed walking right after you come out of your room.

He does not say a single word until you are out of the building and walking through the garden, he only encourages you to hurry up. But when you are close to the gates opening up to the road of the palace, he speaks up. “You aren’t selecting trees, I’ve got that covered.”

Your response is immediate. “Where are we going then? Did something happen?” The snow crunches below your feet and it is growing harder to keep up with Donghyuck’s pace as he keeps his eyes nowhere but forwards. “He’s here. I’m taking you to him.”

Donghyuck’s words make your heart jump in your chest half in excitement and half in worry. “How is he—?”

“They were moving bases. Jaemin said the Prince told him to make a stop at the forest,” He smiles slightly then, as you can see from the side. “He needs to see you, apparently.”

A warm feeling spreads over your chest, and excitement finally takes over, as well as happiness. “That is fortunate, because I need to see him as well.”

The car ride to the forest closer to the top of the mountains was a bumpy and somewhat long ride in the black car that melted into the dark go the night. Towns all around were strictly following a dark-out rule each night after a certain hour— to make the areas undetectable from the air and hard to detect even in person in case of an attack. Therefore the ride is definitely dark except for the shining lights of the car, the snowfall growing faster as it climbs up.

Donghyuck sits beside you instead of at the front seat and keeps his eyes narrow and focused on the road. At some point he leans forward and tells the driver that they can drop you two off at this point, and that they should be back here to pick you up in a couple hours sharp.

And then, you two leave the car.

He helps you with walking uphill in the thick snow. The snowfall, although fast paced, is with big and fluffy flakes. Nonetheless, when the slightest wind makes the flakes hit your face, it hurts.

The two of you walk deep into the forest, deeper than you would have expected, and you have a good feeling that you would not have trusted with the process if it was not Donghyuck walking beside you with a lantern in his hand. Another lantern gets visible after a while.

And you get happy, so happy like a child, slipping a bit on the snow when you try to pick your pace up.

But when you see their faces, your heart drops.

You notice Jaemin’s face first, as he is the one holding the lantern, and you notice the big healing slash on the side of his face. It is the initial alarm for you that immediately makes your gaze turn to Jeno who is standing beside him.

And surely enough, he looks horrible. There are several cuts on his face that are not as big as the slash on Jaemin’s cheek but still quite fresh, his lip has long busted before and is now almost healed, there are stitches near his hairline on the left side, and his under-eyes are almost a plum-colored purple from how dark they are. You can almost feel his hurt.

“Oh my god,” Is the first thing that leaves your mouth when you hurry towards him. “What happened to you?”

You try to hug him but he hisses, prompting you to lean back and take his face into your hands instead, inspecting the injuries. This is exactly what I was talking about, you think, I knew something like this would happen. I knew you and the people around you would get hurt somehow, so why did you have to go and fight?

“My love,” Jeno greets you by nuzzling deep into your hands, his head dropping a little, but you do not listen to him. “Are you two okay? What happened?”

“The base got raided, your Highness.” Jaemin responds, and you notice he sounds almost too good for a person that has such a wound on his face. “Hence the change of bases.”

“I am healthy. Just sore.” Jeno adds, and chuckles drily once. “Turns out I am not all too good at one-on-one combat.” He tries to be funny despite themselves, but the state they are in is too bad for it to work. Making light of whatever had happened seemed like a far stretch.

Naturally, you cannot bring yourself to laugh at his joke. “I am thankful for that,” But you smile to comfort you both despite the situation. “Not that you got your bums handed to you, but that you are healthy.”

Jeno giggles with his mouth closed at that, and lets you pull him to a kiss when you tug at his face. His face feels really cold, more so than yours, and you wonder just how long they had been standing outside deep in the forest. “You are cold,” You breathe onto his lips.

“Mhm,” He mumbles. “But I want to stay for longer.” He joins in on it when a smile spreads pulls at the corners of your lips.

Getting a move on, you both sit on the snow under a tree not wanting to stand up for longer because in all honesty, Jeno looks nothing but exhausted. Donghyuck hands his lantern to you so you could have a light source before walking away with Jaemin— not too far as it is easier than ever to get lost in the forest with the dark night and the heavy snow.

“How have you been?” You ask Jeno once you are both comfortably seated, holding his hands in yours in an attempt to warm them up even though he seems to be in some of his warmest clothes. There was no guide on how to approach someone who has been through things he had been through, so you did not know how to and the best you could do was being careful about it. “How are things out there?”

“Like hell,” His answer is immediate. “People invade anywhere and everywhere, making decisions is so difficult, sometimes everything is so loud and mostly unnecessary and—“ He takes a breath. “A lot of them die. From both sides.”

Your heart drops further. “Do the decisions you make, do you think they—?”

Jeno shrugs and shakes his head. “I do not know. I try not to think about it.” His answer is spit out quickly. He takes a hand out of your hold, shaking with stress and probably exhaustion. His fingers rub his temple and his thumb rubs the middle of his forehead to try and ease the tension. “They are not even my decisions,” He speaks with pent up frustration and anger. “What goes in the end is my father’s word and demand.”

“He makes the decisions for you?” You ask with brows furrowed further. “When you are the lieutenant in the field?” A ridiculed chuckle leaves your mouth. “Why is he not there then?”

“I try to deal with everything as peacefully as I can, I plan all these negotiations and I mean, I use the advice that the counselors and other senior military personnel give me,” Jeno rambles. “But when I tell him about it he says that it does not work out for the plan according to the policies we have when in fact they do. Then why did he let me train in the military for so long?”

His chest moves up and down quickly and deeply when he is done with his words. You can see his eyes glistening, which is why you approach him lighter with your next words. “You do not have to inform your father beforehand,” At that, he turns his face to you. “If people agree with you, the heir and the lieutenant, you do not have to get your father’s permission. Let him know afterwards instead.”

“That is ridiculous.” An airy laugh comes out of Jeno. It irks you, how his first move is to shut you out. “He is the King. He has done this for years, and even after this all ends it is his word that counts. And he is my father, I do not want to disappoint him. One wrong thing I make, and all he ever did goes to trash.”

“I am sorry to say this, but in my eyes your father is someone with dead straight views. You could prove yourself to him by showing him it could all work out if your word went instead of his around the field— you could get away with less harm as well,” You try to reach him with your words, your voice soft in an attempt to not agitate him further. “You really do not have to follow your father’s guidance.”

“I do!” You know that it is the pure frustration speaking. “You don’t! Didn’t your father send you there because he trusted you? You are a man fully grown and capable of making your decisions— you will be the ruler sooner than later. Doing what your father tells you to do, constantly, is not going to help with anything especially in the future when it will be you who has the call on everything.”

There is a silence where the two of you do nothing but look at each other. His eyes shift continuously and very slightly as if they are trembling. His jaw clenches and he lets a loaded breath out that comes from deep within his chest, letting his head turn forward again and his back hit the tree. He furrows his brows and a couple of his shaky fingers come up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know,” Another burdened breath. “He has been saying he is proud of me.”

And you understand what it is about.

Nevertheless you hate that he lets his father’s pride do this to him; getting him hurt both mentally and physically. Like before the war, you act in a moment of selfishness as you take his hand in yours again and give it a squeeze. “Let’s run away.” Your voice sounds firm and confident. “Get married at that place deep in the forest, and go to some other place. Run from this madness wherever it follows us and come back when everything is over with,” The smile on your face is audible in your words. “We would be so free, Jeno.”

But Jeno breaks your heart into pieces when a sad chuckle leaves his lips and a heavy whine follows. “I wish we could.”

Without another word, you lean towards him and kiss his neck, his jaw, his cheek and temple. Pulling his hand away from the side of his nose on his cheek, which became its resting place after squeezing the bridge of his nose, you place his arms around you and pull him down to your shoulder by his hair for him to rest. He kisses the side of your neck as well, smiling at the feeling of the slinging chain around it, and slides his head back down.

Your hand still in his hair playing with it, you whisper your last sense to him. “It is your pride in yourself that matters. Not his.”

Jeno only nods. And within a few minutes of his steady breathing, he is fast asleep on your shoulder.

When the guards come back after so long a while you spent playing with his hair mindlessly, you have one request from Jaemin. “Make sure he sleeps on the way, will you?”

The First Breakdown

The first time he had cried to you had happened at a surprise visit.

In fact, he had visited you because of it. Had taken more than several hours of his time and more than several lies through his mouth just to get to you and to be vulnerable. In his defense, it was because he could be so vulnerable only with you.

Even so, you had never seen him cry before.

It was in the middle of the night again when Donghyuck had knocked on the door of your office, where you were catching up on some of your studies. He had told you that you had a visitor, and that they were waiting for you, and it had been all that it took for you to stand up from your chair and start walking with him. Following him, you had gone to the basement again, moved the furniture again, went down the trapdoor again, walked a lot again, and had seen the two silhouettes at the end of the tunnel again.

Only this time, only one of the silhouettes’ shoulders were shaking. And not because of laughter.

Jeno had started crying the moment he had spotted you. Jaemin tried to talk to him, but Donghyuck only pulled him away to go away for keeping watch; gave the two of you the privacy you needed.

It came as a shock at first. Jeno never cried— not once, you think, in the entire time you had known him starting from your childhood years. Even when people cried around him. Even when he was at a funeral. Even when he was too happy. Even when he got hurt and was in physical pain. The only exception would be the times you saw him angry where his eyes would tear up, but never did they spill before.

After they left you—  without wasting any time— pulled Jeno to you, letting him hug you however and wherever he needed. He made himself comfortable with his face in your shoulder, close to your neck, and his arms around your waist with hands spread across your back. You ran your fingers through his hair as he sobbed. Violently so. You could tell whatever he was crying about was not a one-time thing. It had been bottled inside and pent up for too long.

He held you that way and cried maybe for an hour straight for all you knew. But when his tears died down and all that was left were sniffles, you had finally asked him. “What is the matter, sweetheart?”

There was a content sniffle at the choice of your rare use of a nickname, if that could even be a thing. But a few heavy breaths followed after that, like he wanted to say the things on his mind but could not bear to. You only pulled your chest away from his to be able to look into his eyes, and shook your head. “You do not have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Jeno placed his forehead on yours and stood in place, breathing with his eyes shut. You shut your eyes too, trying to connect with him at a level that is beyond words because that was what he seemed to need.

But then his voice cut through the night. “I just want him to love me.”

It angered you to no extent that you knew who he was talking about. “What did he do?”

He chuckled bitterly. “Humiliated me in front of my mother’s family and the whole staff at my early birthday celebration in the morning.” There was a gulp as he weighed the words that were told to him once again, as if they would have been lighter that time. “Said he could not believe I was his only son and only child. That a peasant would have done a better job at being a king if he placed one on the throne right then and there. That I am lost in useless studies. That whatever I do is still clumsy as if I am a kid.”

You let him rant on because whatever this was, it seemed to work. “I try so hard to meet his every demand. His dreams for me are so challenging to keep up with but I honestly try, I do.”

“I know,” But he was not done. “I try to be a good son for him and my mother and I work really hard and I train really hard and—“

“I know, sweetheart.” You pulled slightly away again, and hated that you saw tears flowing down his face once more. “What did your mother do? Did she do something?”

“She told me to go to my room and that she would come to get me,” The smile on his face was tight. “But I couldn’t.” A single sob left his mouth, defeated. “So I asked Jaemin to sneak me out.”

“You did the right thing,” Jeno shook his head and tried to turn it away from you, but your hands took a hold of it from the back. “Hey,” You forced him into eye contact, and saw that his tear-invaded eyes looked almost drunk. Empty and sluggish. Nothing like his usual sparkling, poem-worthy orbs. “You did the right thing by getting out and away from there.” But he shook his head, so you shook yours in a questioning manner, prodding him to tell you why. “When we get back they will ask him about everything first and then they will ask me. I am just troubling him.”

“Believe me when I say you are not. He is your best friend before he is your guard. He cares about you, sweetheart.”

It took awhile for that to sink in, but it did in the end and he nodded, which was what mattered. And you succeeded at making him smile genuinely when you kissed the tip of his nose.

What truly sucked then was the fact that you could not tell him that his father would love him someday. Because you did not believe in it, and you would not tell him what was a blatant lie to you. And despite it all, your beliefs, you could see how much he wanted to be loved by him. How much he wanted to be recognized by him.

So what could you have told him? ‘You do not need his love.’? That did not sound right. That felt like it was the opposite of what he should have heard. ‘Our love for you is stronger than your father’s lack thereof.’? That simply was not true for him even if it was for you and for Jaemin and for his mother, because there was a hole punched in his heart and he wanted it to be filled. Rightfully so.

In the end, you did not tell him anything related to his father. You just told him what was true to you. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. I am so grateful you are here, with me.”

The Last Breakdown

The two of you had not talked to each other in months, let alone see each other.

The war had been going on for too long at that point. It was a wake up call that showed you just how insatiable rulers were. If it was not land they were looking for, it was people that they could exploit in labor, or valuable reserves like mines or things like historical monuments that could be stolen. People were dying still. Even more so than the beginning, in fact. Some places were left in famine, a lot of places were taken over by other rules. Any war crime you could think of was most likely happening just outside the borders of your family’s rule.

Since day one of your education you had learnt about law and order, and ethics, and just like that they were all thrown out of the window in this chaos.

Standing in neutrality had proved to be harder and harder day by day as well. The economic conditions were not getting any better, trade was almost impossible because of the disassociation the other powers and partners who had declared their sides were putting you through, and the damage was big even though your family’s rule was one of the most powerful. Unemployment rates had risen despite your immense efforts to keep it stable, and in turn, healthcare had become a problem, hunger— especially throughout the population who had already been struggling with making a living below the hunger threshold— had become a problem, crime rates were on the rise.

Which was why your father, by the obligation the sociopolitical states provided him, declared sides one morning. Thinking it would be the best thing to do.

Of course it was opposite to the side where Jeno and his family’s rule had sided with. Your families’ stances had never been the same, so there was absolutely no way they could be now. And frankly, you did not care about that even though you recognized how big of an ordeal it was. All you could care about was the safety of your people and your loved ones in these cruel conditions.

Scratch that. You wanted innocent people to stay out of harm’s way. That was all.

War, in your opinion, was cowardice. You still could not wrap your head around the fact that people were mostly doing this just because they had feuds within themselves and the circle of their class. Hundreds of thousands, even millions of innocent lives were destroyed both literally and figuratively over some disagreements between only several rulers that were their ‘representatives’. Which was in fact the biggest lie you could have ever heard of, because they were just hungry for their exclusive benefits. There was nothing in this war’s roots where the actual folk were represented. Just elite individuals and their selfish problems.

Just because the said elite individuals did not want to make sacrifices.

The biggest cowardice.

After the declaration, the hard work you had to put yourself through was at least doubled if not tripled or quadrupled. You could barely get sleep anymore, and would count yourself lucky if you managed to get some shut-eye for a few hours seeing that even when you did get to lie down on your bed it would be restless with thoughts racing through your head. Most of your responsibilities still revolved around document work but at this point the document work had gotten more important and heavier in and of itself, to the point where your eyes burned and your brain screamed at you to give up reading the papers. The maths of it all had gotten a lot worse as well because now there were so many spontaneous expenses paid that sometimes there would be problems with communicating on time between bureaus and people, which would in turn lead to wrong calculations and wrong reports— which would in turn cause you to do everything from scratch again. Sometimes a single, seemingly minor error would take days to make right again.

The Prince came to visit you on one of those restless nights where you were rolling around in your bed with the discomfort weighing on your mind.

Donghyuck came to your door again and requested the doorkeepers to alert you that he was there. They did, and something in your heart immediately knew what was happening, so you only took your coat and bolted out the door.

And now he is rushing through the halls beside you, with you following him. “Where even are they?” You whisper as you pick your pace up, not even in the condition to feel excited about it.

“There is this abandoned farmhouse in the fields across the town.” He responds back, and your eyes widen. “How are they so close?”

“They are both in the military, your Highness.” His voice is serious as he speaks. “I would expect their stealth to be outstanding.”

Donghyuck leads you outside to the back road of the palace and it is raining outside, definitely with an intention to completely pour down within the hours that would follow. He covers your head as best he can with his jacket and places his hand at the top of the car when he opens the door for you, before hopping in himself.

Which is the exact point that you realize there is no driver, and that he hops into the driver’s seat.

“Donghyuck?” You lean forward with a frown on your face, placing your hand on top of the headrest-less seat which has its quality so that guards and whoever is inside can see the people sitting at the back (usually royals or their guests) better to ensure their safety. “What are you doing?”

“This is not a matter we can bring more people into at this point,” He says as he starts the car. “I basically bribed the guards to shut up about taking you outside the palace. If I brought a driver, I would have had to explain the situation.”

The frown deepens on your face just as he presses the gas and the car starts moving. “With what money?” You ask him, and you genuinely fear his answer at that moment.

He carefully drives his way out, even the guards at the gates not stopping the car to question his antics. It really was a wonder how much money he could have offered to them for their silence at only you leaving the palace with him, at an ungodly hour, in a car, and no other information given. It felt extremely suspicious even for an heir and their primary guard.

You could not help but also notice his silence after starting to drive, so you pushed your question. “Donghyuck, with what money?”

The guards tilts his head and licks his lips before making eye contact with you through the rear mirror for a split second. “I had been saving some from the allowance my mother sends me and from my paychecks for some time,” His eyes turn back to the road as your mouth falls open and your brows furrow, about to protest. But he beats you to it. “It doesn’t matter, really,” He says, and you know he means it, because you can hear the genuineness. “It doesn’t matter if it’s for the relief and happiness of my best friend and the person I’ve vowed to protect.”

At his words, you slump back against the seats. There is a lump in your throat that makes it hard to speak, so you do not. You only turn your gaze to the scenery outside your window and take out your necklace through the collar of your coat, holding your engagement ring in shame. It does give you comfort, but you still find yourself wanting to cry.

The ride does not take too long despite the rain, as there are no people outside and on the roads because of the dark-out policy, and since it is a fairly straight drive with no hills to drive up.

The two of you reach the farmhouse without a hassle. Donghyuck puts the car somewhere less visible (even though it is nighttime and the car’s exterior matches the dark) before he allows you to get out. He then guides you to the barn where the Prince and his guard must be and opens the doors.

Again, there are a couple of lanterns around that provide dim and unnoticeable light. The heir and his guard are standing apart, and you can see your love walking up and down with his hands linked at his back. He halts, however, when he sees you.

You waste no time in running into his arms, and the ugly sob that leaves your body is loud enough for everybody to hear when you tackle him with your arms around his neck and shoulders. The tears break free when you nuzzle yourself into him everywhere, squeezing him tight for numerous reasons. Because you missed him so incredibly much, because everything was going bad, because you were tired and you knew he was also tired, because he is looking better than last time where he almost gave you a heart attack, because you love him, and because it hurts that everything has come to a point where two of the people that care about both of you the most, and two of whom you care about the most, has to put themselves in danger and through many sacrifices. Because you feel ashamed for what you are causing. Because somehow everyone standing in that barn is hurt someway or another, even if they are things that all of you can make right whether it be by yourselves or with help.

“I have you, sweetheart,” Jeno whispers as he kisses your cheek, catching a tear that was trailing its way down. You smile at your shared and reserved nickname for the times where one of you had to console the other while they cried, but it is still a bitter one, because you can hear his choked voice as well. “I have you. It is alright.”

But you can see Jaemin behind him and Donghyuck, who is looking down at the ground. Jaemin looks at you with pity and genuine sadness, so much of those that you cannot give them a meaning. Yet it fires something in you when he looks at you like that. The best you can do is to cover your eyes with your hand. “Jeno, we—“

“I know. I know, my love.” He kisses you once more, this time from the top of your head. He rubs your back and holds you tight in his arms as you cry in your shame and emotional overload.

Why does it have to be this way? You think. Why is it so hard to make things work? Why is abhorrence at the base of everything, even love? I love you and you love me, so why do others have to be involved? Why do other factors have to be involved? And even if they have to be involved, why do others have to get hurt because of our love? Why does everything need to be so precise in order to have a chance for this to work? Why can’t this be happy and like a game again, where our excitement is caused by the fluttering of our hearts and not because of the dread that makes our heart race? Why do you have to do what you have to do, and why do I have to do what I have to do?  Outside of our love, why do people have to suffer? Why are people so selfish and filled with so much hatred that there is no place in their hearts for negotiation nor empathy? Why does everything link back to those people in the first place? Why are those people in charge of everything in life?

You weep, and Jeno holds you. He sits you down, and pulls you close to his lap, and he holds you. He asks the guards to please wait somewhere else, and he holds you. Your weeping subsides, and he holds you.

And you remember, when all that is left is your sniffling, that his voice was choked too. That he was about to cry too, when you first walked in.

So you ask him with your hoarse voice. “Why were you upset before, when I first saw you?”

His hand that holds you pulls you close a little tighter. “I wanted to tell you something, but I don’t think I can.”

Your eyes furrow again, but you nod once. “Why?”

He chuckles this deep, airy, thick huff that is full to the brim with emotions you cannot quite decipher, and then says what is on his mind. And his voice is so sad, so loaded and tired that you tear up again at his hopeless words. “I suppose you would not love me the same.”

A tear falls onto his hand resting on his lap with that.

The First ‘I Love You’

Dreamy, was all you could say about it.

It was the fruit of most probably the stupidest thing you two had ever done in your relationship. On one summer night where Jeno and his family were hosting a dance for his cousin’s engagement, he had stood beside you and leant into your ear to tell you that you should meet with him at the vineyard in their garden in half an hour, and excuse yourself saying you are going to your room. He seemed to be playful that night, conversing with anyone and everyone that stood in his way and entertaining them; genuinely happy for his cousin and his fiancé. On top of being entertaining, he looked like he was entertained as well. Aside from the happiness he felt for the couple, there was this whole-hearted, content smile on his face. Even when nobody was conversing with him, or looking at him.

You had gone there as a representative with only Donghyuck accompanying you. The King and the Queen were too busy with duties revolving around politics— and in all honesty, they did not want to be too involved with his family in the first place. So they had sent you as a solution.

It was a good solution for them and you. You could not protest such a plan.

Half an hour seemed to not pass at first. You were eager to be with him, as you did not have the time to meet beforehand, and to be close to him. There was something about the way he made you feel when he smiled around and beamed like a sun under the moonlight with his happiness like that.

To make the time pass, you did everything you could possibly think of. You conversed with people you do not have the slightest connections to, barely knowing who they were. Congratulated the engaged couple with a polite manner and got surprised by the same politeness they seemed to showcase. In return delivered a short speech to them about how lucky they were to find each other and to be with the person they loved and be open and celebrated about it in a world like yours where relationships like theirs between a royal and a commoner were hard to come by.

As if on cue, Donghyuck who must have been informed about the meeting beforehand called for you from just behind you, prompting you to excuse yourself by saying you had already had quite the travel, and that you would be leaving early tomorrow morning. That you had to catch some rest before you left for duty. They nodded in understanding and thanked you for coming, sending their best wishes to your family.

They were almost too good for the royal family they belonged to, but all of it was genuine.

Donghyuck walked you to the front yard then, taking you to the small vineyard area where Jeno was standing. Jaemin was at a distance as far as you could tell, conversing with other staff that seemed to not be guards. Soon enough, though, the staff he had talked to would leave and go to the backyard where the celebration was, leaving the four of you alone in the visible distance.

Jeno met you halfway, greeting you with a sweet peck on your lips. “Welcome, dove,” From the side of your eyes you saw Donghyuck leaving after seeing you two meet to greet Jaemin in the distance.

You giggled at Jeno’s words then, looking at his eyes that bore the rather occasional glasses that night. “I have been here for quite a while now.” He tilted his head and nodded, squinting his eyes, silently saying you are right but not spot on. “But you haven’t been here when it is completely empty. An immensely different version of this place.”

Furrowing your brows, you smiled at him mischievously. “What are you trying to imply?”

And he played along. “The guards are changing shifts,” With a hand, he moved his jacket’s sleeve to look at his watch with slightly furrowed brows. “We still have around five minutes, and I was thinking we could go to my room.”

He beat you to it to understand the rather shocking and awkward way his words sounded. “Only if you would like to.” Even under the weak light of the stars, you could see the embarrassment flushed over his face. The boldness he held had almost dissipated.

All honesty due, you wanted to go to his room. It sounded amazing, getting to spend time with him one-on-one completely alone for the first time outside of a library, where even guards would not enter to leave you unbothered while doing your studies. You wanted to have him to yourself truly, without guards or anybody else for once. So you nodded. “I would like that.”

The smile was back on his face. “Then we should hurry up.”

Taking your hand in his, he hurried you inside. Their palace was just as grand as yours. It was dizzying with the halls and the open plan, grand staircases, and it held a lot of colors to it presumably because of the warm climate. Paintings on the walls, lots of feature walls with art painted onto them, gold linings and marble floors. Nothing like yours, which is older than theirs so a bit grimmer with the colors. The cold climate had its effects on it too. Mostly everything was either dark in color like deep blues and greens or extremely light like almost-white grey, with old wood on the rooms’ floors and stone in the halls.

When you entered Jeno’s room, it felt weirdly familiar. Both of you had balconies, for instance. His balcony doors were right beside his bed, and his room was cluttered with bookshelves just like yours, blueprints and pencils lying around on his desk and his paintings of planets and constellations leaning against the wall under his desk, some of his favorite research papers and scientific articles messily pinned on a big cork board.

His room felt a lot like him to you. It looked all about his interests, anything other than politics which seemed to drain both of your personalities out slowly but surely.

It looked like a safe space.

He showed you his paintings and told you all about them. His love for Neptune for example, how he liked its color and its personation in mythology. How he loved sketching stars the way he understood them from the books he read, transitioning through their seven stages of life, growing bigger and stronger until they expand into a Red Giant where it is its biggest at a diameter up to a hundred times of its original diameter to then transform into a White Dwarf where everything is dense and quickly growing cold, losing all of its personality, and finally the Black Dwarves where they were so old and so cold. Jeno went on to talk to you about how in way too far into the future eventually all the stars would be Black Dwarves and the universe would be even colder than it was then, but that there would be a second explosion where something new started.

He showed you his blueprints, skimming through the lines with his fingers, and told you how he dreamt of renovating the palace with his own prints someday. And he told you about the scientists that would inspire him to not give up on learning about space no matter what.

Jeno did talk about his interests, but usually they were confined to conversations in the library. Never had you once seen him talk about it so passionately before, the kind of passion where it added new sparks to his eyes, and something about it made you extremely happy to see.

At some point he realized he had been rambling about all these things in his room and the stories behind them, and had apologized. “Ah,” He rubbed his nape as it hit him with a chuckle. “Sorry. I get excited when people pay attention to these.”

“No, don’t,” You shrugged with your own smile. “You should not be sorry. It is very refreshing to see someone be so passionate about something.”

There is the start of a silence, but you cut through it before it can take over, pointing to the board. “And I agree with those scientists. Keep learning about the universe in your free time. It would be a shame if you got shackled to the small ground underneath.”

Jeno laughed at that, his shoulders shaking with the airy release. When it died down he looked around his room, his bookcases and desk, and the door that led to his bathroom, the documents he had taken care of that day before the event had started placed on the armchair next to the bookshelf, several notes set on them reminding him to do the things he had to take care of the next day.

And then he huffed, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He fiddled with his fingers a little. Looked up at the ceiling. Another lonely chuckle left him as he contemplated on what he wanted to say. “Can you.. Do you think—?“ One more fierce huff through his nose, but then he looked at you. “Can you not go to your room tonight?”

He saw that you were about to protest on auto-control, so he stopped it before it could happen, and made it a silent promise to himself that it would be okay if you wanted to leave. Even if it happened to be right then. “We do not have doorkeepers at night. No offense to how your family does things, but it feels creepy for me to have it, so we just do not have them. You would not be stuck or anything.” He shrugged, smiling but pouting at the same time, if it could even be a thing. “It is just really nice to have you in here.”

With the comfort of what he had just told you, you smiled and hoped Donghyuck would not lose his mind until the morning. “I think I can stay.”

Walking over to him on his bed, you stood in front of him and let him hug your middle with his head on your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair repeatedly knowing he liked the combing feeling on his scalp. At some point while you played with his hair and scalp he tilted his head, placing his chin on your stomach instead and looking up at you with a smile on his face. The genuine, happy and content smile you had seen on his face throughout the night before you fled to his room. “I think I am in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

Your fingers faltered with the smile that spread on your face, and the warmth that spread through your chest surely reached everywhere at the spoken knowledge of being loved. Truly and utterly loved.

You had your suspicions of it before with the way his words sounded and the way he acted. But to hear them being confirmed, so casually and bold and with confidence, made you feel like the most important person alive. In a different way than how it had felt all your life. Like it was only the two of you that mattered on the face of the Earth. Hell, like it was only the two of you that existed on the face of the Earth.

Then your hands retracted from his hair to carefully take his glasses off, putting them on the side table closest to you. Slowly you knelt down until you were face to face with him, and told your love your only request from him. “Kiss me and promise me a forever.”

So he did. Jeno gulped a little at first, keeping his eye contact with an intense gaze, one that mirrored everything in and around him. But then he crashed your lips with his, bringing a hand up to your neck and tugging at it gently in hopes of bringing you down onto the bed with him, which ended up being a wish that you granted. You let him pull you down and lay you down on the bed underneath him as he kissed you, not only on your lips anymore but anywhere he could find exposed. “I don’t want to call you dove anymore, as pretty as it is.”

“Hm?” Was all you could respond with as he kissed your neck. “I want to call you my love.”

At that did something burn and tumble inside you, and you found yourself talking before you could hold it back. “Say that again.”

He laughed out a huff. “My love,” He kissed your collarbone, nibbling only a little, driving you two to the edge with the frustration of what did not come after. “My love,” The nook between your jaw and your neck. “My love.” And your lips, sinking down with all he could offer you. It sounded better— more right in his ears to call you that, and you had to admit that the feeling of being treated exactly like what he called you was otherworldly.

When he pulled away from you, his lips puffy and his gaze still intense yet somewhat softer with the adoration that made itself more apparent, he gave his promise. “I love you my love, and I will for an eternity.”

With a laugh, you gave him your own promise right then and there too. “I promise to love you until the end of time.”

He found it appropriate to meet his lips with yours again, and this time, it was with a newfound hunger you had for each other, filled with the wish to know one another on a level you could not know otherwise had you not loved each other, intimate and private and special. The kind that made your heart race and your stomach twist in the best way possible. The kind that did not feel rushed, but instead gave you relief in knowing yes, it had not been wrong all this time. It was him for you, and for him it was you; the one.

Jeno made love to you that night when he asked you if he could and you gave him the permission, wanting to lose yourself in him and his love and yours. For once you got to spend a whole night with him, making love and talking and showing your love to each other.

And after that, the memory of him under his white sheets kissing you and laughing with the light blue of the lifting night, and the weak but golden-white rays of the early morning sun became the dearest thing to your heart and mind.

Jeno and white, and Jeno in white reminded you of that night.

The Last Goodbye

Everything starts at the dead of the night.

You do not know what was more alarming to you. The crashing sounds of windows that woke you up from your light sleep? The hurried steps that turned into running outside your room, breaking into an unsettling rhythm in the pure silence? The sound of crashing doors and harshly turned locks? The sounds of metal clanking? The occasional firing of the guns and the couple of groans and shouts that follow them? The shouted codes between the guards right outside your room? The surprised curses that leave whoever’s mouths? The unsettling feeling of not knowing who is who outside, perhaps?

Or the fact that you are completely alone for a few minutes, not knowing where to hide because of the shock?

More, the fact that Donghyuck takes longer than you would expect him to come get you, pushing you into thinking did they get to him? Did something happen to him?

There is not a single question in your mind about what this is. The palace is getting raided with soldiers— not that many like a whole army, considering the somewhat inactive nature the commotion seemed to have while you listened to it from your room. Never did you ever feel grateful that your room was placed in a deep and unsophisticated hall away from the library and the archives and the throne room, but you felt so grateful for it as you could do nothing but hide yourself away, locking the balcony doors and covering the doors with your curtains— completely blacking your room out.

You hurry over to the bathroom then, waiting next to the wardrobe sunken into the wall, knowing the far right compartment of it has an opening to a pathway between the walls of the rooms in between the halls that is otherwise inaccessible except from the way down.

The commotion grows more aggressive as you wait. Gunshots grew more frequent yet did not fail to make you jump in your place, and it is when you hear an order of search around that you lock yourself further in your room, locking the bathroom doors as well. You could not see anything, so there was nothing to do but wait for Donghyuck until he came to get you. Just opening the compartment and walking into it was not a possibility as well, since you had no idea what was and was not going on down under the palace.

You lose sense of time as you sit on the cold, stone floor of your bathroom. You lose a big chunk of your sense of self as well. That big chunk of your self melts into the sense you lost, vision, and doubles your attention on hearing. Everything sounds more clear, more violent, and more scary, as you hear bodies falling onto the ground and punches and kicks if it was not guns and daggers. You did not even know such sounds could leave from people’s mouths when they shouted orders and codes and warnings.

Maybe you wait for an hour. Maybe for a few. Or only a few minutes. But in the end someone opens the compartment open silently, filling the bathroom with the artificial light coming from the lantern in their hand, and you only hope that it is Donghyuck.

Thankfully, it is.

His head peeks out from the door and he searches for you, rushing over when he spots you. He kneels down on his feet to level with you and holds his arm out. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” You say, but truthfully, you do not know how you are. You are okay in the sense that you do not have any wounds or injuries, but experiencing something so violent you had only known in theory before? Could anybody be okay when they experience such things, and are separated from the people they care about, completely isolated even though it is in an effort to keep them safe?

Donghyuck links his arm in yours and pulls you off the floor and bolts the two of you out of the compartment door. He locks it behind him, and takes his belt off of his pants, rounding it around the top of the door hinge and securing it by tying— trying to push the door forwards and back, satisfied when it does not budge the slightest bit.

He then picks the lantern he had placed on the ground and rushes over to you, leading you to the narrow stone stairway and taking you down.

The way down is far deep. You pass through rooms you had not known existed, open and close countless doors at the top of the stairways, and you have a good feeling that you go way down under the ground floor of the palace. But you arrive at the destination within a few minutes of basically running down the stairs nonetheless, and you know it is the lair under the palace that you had never been in before.

It is almost a smaller version of the palace. There is a lounging area, a very compact library and office separated in a small room, a kitchen and a bathroom all the same. The place has its own landline— though you hardly expect it to be available to anyone outside of staff.

You can see the council members, some of the military officials, and their personal guards, along with some staff from the kitchen who had most probably been doing early preparation for the next day. There are documents of all kinds sprawled across the lounge table and some across the floor, and you see the military officials jotting down their notes, as well as the heads of the council. All eyes land on you when you walk down the last step and hear Donghyuck close the door from behind.

Your parents are nowhere to be seen.

With your hands sweating immediately and clammy, you ask. “Where are my parents?”

Your father’s senior advisor stands up and walks over to you as a few others look down. There is nothing good that could come out of that, and you feared the answer, to the point where you do not know if you want to hear it. The advisor lands his hands at the sides of your arms, a touch you do not mind and find rather comfortable, considering you had known him your entire life and would trust him with everything. “Your Highness,” He starts. Donghyuck comes to stand just a step behind you before he can continue. “The King has gotten severely injured, but he is stable and soon he will hopefully be in good health.” His wrinkled, bright eyes look at you behind his glasses reassuringly and calmly. You wonder how he actually feels. “We are taking him and the Queen away to a safer place away from here. With some of our best doctors at their company.”

Worried, you feel your heart skip a beat. You can feel the sadness running to your head and chest like a wild horse, but the confusion that hits you presses it back down. “How will we deal with this if he is not here?”

The old advisor glances behind over his shoulder, and at the agreeing nods, he turns back to face you. He clears his throat. “The King is unable to attend to his duties presumably for a much longer time than the matter at hand, and the Queen is royal by crown and not by blood. Therefore, she cannot be the next ruler.”

Opening his mouth, he takes a big breath, and gives you the news with a full chest. “Hence why we need you, as our new monarch.”

A wave of high voltage electric rushes over you then within less than a second. His voice being calm, and him speaking the words out trying to ease you into them does not help at all. You feel like your knees will give out but you do not let them, because there is this part in your brain that has somehow already accepted this and is screaming at you to keep your composure. What leaves your mouth, though, is not much the same. “I can- I cannot do that, my education—“

You get cut off with reassuring words. “Your education would have continued until the day you had no chance but to become the monarch, no matter how long it took,” And then with some of encouragement. “Most fruitful practice comes out of the ruling process, and it is very unfortunate that you are in this situation your Highness, but you have trained for this all your life. There is not a person in this room who can do this better than you.”

And you can feel all eyes on you, pitying you and worried for you. Although pitiful, their eyes do have good meanings behind them for the most part, wishing you good luck for both their sake and yours. It is understandable even though it hurts to see it.

Taking another breath, the advisor speaks, holding you tighter between his hands and rubbing them a little to ground you. “I will bring the book now, okay?”

Without a single thought, you nod.

It happens in a blink of your eyes. The advisor moves to the library and everybody stands up from their seats, and those who're standing away come just a bit closer. They still give you the space you need, and Donghyuck pats your shoulder lightly, giving you the most genuine smile he could muster at that moment. And when the senior advisor comes back he holds out the book of constitutional law upright, looks into your eyes seriously, tells you to put a hand on the book and the other in the air, and asks you to repeat the Oath after him. “You can take your time,”

But you do not. You repeat the words after him at the same pace. I vow to protect my people and love them as my own family. I vow to work towards my people’s best interests. I vow to see and listen to them. I vow to see them as my equals no matter the situation and the differences. I vow to never stop working for the betterment of my own, until the day I pass, or until the day I have to step down. I vow to see my place on the throne sacred and important, and I vow to recognize my power and its consequences. And I take the oath, right now and in the witness of my aiders and the people, to serve them as their monarch for the days to come.

Everyone in the room bows and kneels around you, and you take your hand off the book. Just like that you become the monarch and nothing about it is as you imagined, even though you have never imagined it before.

“Your Excellence,” The advisor smiles a soothing smile. The change of honorifics feel unnatural immediately. “I sincerely hope better days are destined for your rule.”

You hope so, too.

There is no time for anything to sink in as the seniors all take you into the small library to have a meeting. They tell you all they know, that a remote number of soldiers still roaming around at least a couple thousand have broken into the palace and the nearby town mostly in civilian outfits, and that there is a number of people that has been taken hostage. Not much damage was done according to them, as in there was not an expectedly big number of people who had lost their lives as these some thousands of soldiers broke their way in. The towns were left in relatively good shape. “I suspect they are here for the palace and your father, your Excellence.” One of the military personnel says, and adds. “Our troops are after the soldiers with all their equipment to take the hostages back. They will be severely outnumbered, so I am positive we will succeed.”

And then, they talk about national security following this night, and the guards who have lost a significant amount of staff. They talk about the upcoming days where you would have to appear in front of your people to address these events and to give your condolences, describing in detail what is being done in the aftermaths of this first-hand attack your people and you have experienced, and what will be done to ensure the security’s, the justice’s, the politics’ and the legislation’s wellbeing, as well as addressing your efforts of the sociopolitical betterment that will inevitably see positive progress if you do the right things.

That is exactly what scares you to no extent. The possibility of not doing the right things at a time like this.

So when they leave, you stay in the library, digging into your most trusted sources of law, security and sociology. You take notes, and read, and take more notes, and think of how you might apply these theoretical things practically, and take notes when the ideas come to discuss with the advisor later, and read— and it becomes a cycle. At one point the landline in the library that you had not noticed its existence of rings, and you get the news that around a dozen of soldiers have gotten captured across the land, one close to the palace who was being interrogated. You work on the documents given to you by the seniors, sometimes calling them in and asking them questions and advice on your notes as they have been specifically at these things for years. You do not recall ever working harder before in so many areas at the same time, and you hate that it is such a thin ice you are walking on. One wrong step and you fall in the icy water, bringing the people you have vowed to protect along with you.

Some things go well. The hostages got released suspiciously early on, before the troops in your rule could get to them. They took the hundreds of hostages back with them for interrogation and to provide them food and water, and if needed, healthcare. Which only meant one thing, really.

This was a dirty work. An attempt at an assassination, most likely targeting specifically your father, and espionage. A wide network of an espionage, and thousands of soldiers had left with whatever information they had. Their targets were you and your family, not the people, even though a good part of them got affected.

It felt incredibly wrong for you to admit it, but you were almost grateful that the palace was the target instead of the people. You would have rather lost information than people, because you were strong, and you knew you could tackle whatever problem was thrown at your way once you got the hang of things.

And since you do not have the luxury of time, you were already getting the hang of things slowly but surely.

After a couple of hours, while you are tackling everything related to law and law in war as they are most important to you for the night, Donghyuck excuses himself in with a knock at the door.

By the way his face looked, you could tell you were going to get bad news.

“Your Majesty,” He starts. But you notice that he cannot find it in himself to look into your eyes. “I have the reports back from the interrogation of one of the captured soldiers.”

He hands you the papers, and you gladly take them. Name, Huang Renjun. Position, Private. Why did they raid? To get information from the archives. For what reason? For the use of the King. Was he involved in the assassination attempt? No, he was not appointed to that purpose. Did he hate your land? No, he did what he had to do. Why did he have to do it? Because he has a mother to look after, and the military pays well enough. Why was he involved in espionage? Because he had done it before. Why was he dressed in uniform? Because he wanted to get back to his mother if he ever got caught and had to serve time in jail, he did not want to take the right away from her— the right to visit him. Why was he shaking? They would not do anything to his mother, right? No, they would not. They are not that type of people. He has been providing useful information and been hopefully truthful until now, could he tell his lieutenant’s name?

Lee Jeno.

Surely it cannot be real.

You look at Donghyuck, and see him looking at you now. “I’m sorry.” Is all he can say.

It is as if someone pours a bucket of boiling hot water down your head, and another bucket of ice cold right after. You feel your heart sink. Disappointed, sad, let down, but what hurts the most is that you do not feel like it does not make sense.

Your hand tightens, squeezing the pen in your hold as the other lifts to rub your temple, both elbows placed on the table for support. Although you want to cry and scream, what leaves your mouth instead is an airy, unhumorous chuckle.

It takes a few seconds for it to kick in. “Take me to him.”

The guard opens his mouth, but you shut him up. “I do not care where and how. Just take me to him.”

Donghyuck comes back to get you in what feels like less than an hour.

When you get out of the small office you had been stuck in for hours, most of the military and security advisors and seniors are nowhere to be seen. They were most probably dealing with the finalization of the reports of the captured soldiers, transferring them to the hands of the judiciary system. The lair, at that point, was more of a place used simply because the palace could not be used still. Duties were still duties and not all of them could be delivered to a few floors underground.

The senior advisor— your senior advisor was about to protest when he saw you walk away with Donghyuck alone, but you simply told him you had to see it for yourself as the reason for your outing. You decline when he offers you more company, saying he could provide you with more guards.

Then, you were out.

But you do not make your way through the palace. It hurts when you notice Donghyuck is taking you through the basement again, even though it makes sense. Nobody knew about the tunnel system still.

You make a note in your mind to change that after today.

Feeling numb in the eerie quiet of the palace, you let Donghyuck lead the way, helping him with the furniture, dropping down the trapdoor, and walking beside him. Neither of you talk. What could he possibly say? What Jeno had done was beyond words.

When you arrive at the end of the tunnels him and his guard are there. Standing in silence. You pick your pace up, unlike the excited and hurried steps you used to take, but angry, disappointed and confronting. Jaemin looks at you before he does, and you see his pitiful look. He does not greet you with the usual nod he does. Jeno looks at you only when you are a couple of big strides away from him, his eyes bright at first, but dimming slowly.

This is the first time you meet him ‘alone’ in early daylight. And frankly, you do not care if somebody finds this place and discovers him at that point.

Taking the last couple of strides, you come to a halt in front of him with a considerable distance between you two. Your chest rises up and down with all the emotions you are feeling and all the thoughts that are racing through your head. With one particularly angry breath, you speak. “Jeno, I have one request from you, and that is for you to tell me my best friend and primary guard is lying and mean it.” At the mention of your guard you had pointed at him with your finger, looking into Jeno’s eyes to find something.

But he does not speak. Because he cannot lie. Because your best friend and guard was, in fact, not lying to you. Because he really was at the lead of all of this. And the guilt, you could see in his eyes that did everything to avoid your intense gaze.

Figures you were not the only one who noticed that, because you hear the sound of Donghyuck’s pistol behind you. You look back at him to see his gun pointed at Jeno, and you hear another one drawn behind you. Namely Jaemin’s, pointed at Donghyuck.

Everything really kicks in then.

Alarmed, you raise your voice. “Nobody is shooting anyone.”

Jeno does nothing. Does not back you up, nor say his independent thought. He just watches, frozen in place, looking at you and yet not looking at you. “Donghyuck, lower your gun down.”

“But—“ You shut him up for the second time within a few hours. “I said, lower your gun down.”

He does, and Jaemin follows suit. You turn back to look at the person standing in front of you.

You do not know who this person is, you cannot tell. Because the Jeno who stands before you is not the one you know. He is not the one you love as well. Because the Jeno you love is someone who has his own pride, feelings, dreams and conscience. Someone who has his own passions. Someone who stands against all the bad and all the evil. He is someone who loves people and who loves you, who is truthful to the people he loves and cares about. And he cares about a lot of people.

But this person in front of you, this Jeno, is not him. This is someone who wanted his father’s acceptance so much that he let it swallow him whole. When, even though he protested he was not, he was someone fully capable of making his own decisions. This is someone who is alright with being used as a puppet for the foreseeable future. This is someone that gave up his personality and dreams just to go with someone else’s. This is someone that did not care if others got hurt because of him. This is someone who is selfish, willfully blind and deaf.

The Jeno standing in front of you was someone you would pity at best. The Jeno that stood in front of you was someone that would be much like his father. Not respected and looked down upon. Oblivious to his doings.

There was so much you wanted for the person that stood in front of you. You desperately wanted him to have a part of himself that recognized the things he had done until this point, whatever he did to you and long before that. You wanted him to experience the aftermath for years to come. To hear the consequences was one thing— they could enter through one ear and immediately come out of the other, as fast as if he had not even heard it. But seeing the consequences would be different. Turning a blind eye every single day would be impossible. You want him to live in the reality of what has happened, and you want some part of him to recognize everything from today on as well.

Looking at his empty eyes, you furrow your brows and sigh. “Most of the soldiers will be handed over once their judiciary process is done. They were caught in uniform.”

You do not even feel like talking to him. It is so disappointing, he is so disappointing; you had such hopes both for the two of you and him. He had his dreams and this person he wanted to grow to be. And nothing about this was what hope entailed for you two. Individually and as a pair, and as people who had huge populations of people dependent on you and following you.

Instead of saying all the things you would like to say to him, you reach for your necklace with a shaky sigh. You take it off, and hold the ring out for him to take.

Jeno obediently opens his hand under yours, and you drop the ring into his palm. You cannot even find it in yourself to close his hand when he fails to do it promptly. Partly because you are scared you are doing the wrong thing and that there is hope for him still, and partly because you knew you would break if you did.

“Leave, Jeno. Take your hand off my rule, my people and my family. Take your men, too.” You take a deep breath and straighten up, looking deep into his eyes that still have sparks somehow.

Not being strong was not an option. “And never come back.”

Jeno nods only once ever so slightly, gulping and closing his palm, putting the necklace into his chest pocket before turning back on his heel and walking out into the bright and silver snowy morning light that surely consumes him whole with his guard on his trail.

It is extremely difficult to watch him walk away. Because the bottled up emotions rush to your chest and the memories rush to your mind, and it hurts when the acknowledgement of the past few years of your life is being thrown into the trash dawns on you. The past genuinely beautiful and happy years of your life where the two of you had taken so many risks, so many things to account, had told so many lies to make everything work. Where you had shared so many laughs, some tears, a lot of secrets- the biggest secret the two of you could possibly ever share, so many kisses and fond words and physical affection. Where you had shared your true love at the expense of living it undercover. Because you had loved each other so purely and so intensely that you could do anything for each other. Still, you believed that what you two had was such an incredible, true, and big thing.

Which was exactly why your heart physically hurt when he disappeared from your sight.

Because you knew who did this was not him, and that the person who disappeared from your personal life for good was not him. The ‘him’ you loved was nowhere to be found in whoever this was; someone who lived according to the strings that were being pulled. Who this person once was, would only live in your memories. And even those, with the start of your healing process, would slowly but surely die down.

So much for an eternity.

The First Vow

After the war everything turned back to normal slowly but surely.

You were becoming better and better at this ruling business you had to attend to, keeping in touch with the communities more in the aftermaths, occupied with duties of all kinds from any branch, meeting people, going on travels for said meetings, seeing beautiful sceneries. There would be new faces at the palace to get acquainted with every once in a while. You would get to go to trips in your own land, visiting farmers and asking about how harvest season was treating them, visiting businesses to see if they could hold up in the fragility of post-war days, visiting families in need to have a chat with them and hear them out, to see if you could do anything for them. More often than not you would be able to provide them care and whatever else it was that they needed. Sometimes you would visit schools and the neighborhoods no one dared to go into, and you would try to help them, too.

Sometimes you would check on the prisons and courts to see how the atmosphere was, and sometimes you would have a brief chat with Renjun on visiting days, updating him on his judiciary situation yourself.

Did the anxiety completely dissipate after what happened? No. Definitely not. The fact that you had gone through espionage on a very big scale was a fact that still stood strong.

But your father was there to aid you with his wisdom. Back on his feet and retired, living at a house far from the palace, your mother and him kept the doors open for you for whenever you had the time or the wish to pay a visit. Him and your mother’s experiences as well as their advice helped you so much during the beginning of your rule where everything felt like you had to learn how to walk again. You were grateful for them and your advisor, who would not comply with your words and just retire because he wanted to help you out as long as he possibly could.

Some things were nice. You were adored by the people, because you had been loyal to the oath you had taken so far. Your full days and duties were keeping your mind off of most things that could bring you down. The palace staff and you seemed to have a close relationship as well, genuinely having fun in your daily life because of your young aura that beamed with energy. Truthfully you were energetic. There was no way you could do what you did if you were not as energetic. You pushed yourself to be happy too, reminded yourself of these things to keep you going.

Yet, some things were bad. There were a lot of things that you could not get no matter how hard you tried, but that was okay, because you were trying no matter what too. The fact that your parents had moved out left you with the reality of living alone in an utterly gigantic space. You would have to eat breakfasts and dinners alone, reading a book while you ate because no one would agree to have a meal with you even though you told them it was okay— except for Donghyuck who would agree to have lunch with you most days. Going to your room would leave a bitter taste inside your mouth. And when you laid down on your bed, sometimes the daydreams of what you could have been come up.

You try to push them away, but sometimes you find yourself breaking down over them anyway.

And then, there are some realities. Like the fact that all these duties, although incredibly helpful at distracting, were growing to be a bit too much for you. The fact that you really needed to share these duties with someone to get some workload off your shoulders. The fact that although wise and helpful, your advisor is growing older and older, and you want him to have a retirement.

The fact that you need another monarch.

It is ridiculous how you deal with it. On one restless night where your mind is flooded with things you need to take care of and the things that are yet to come, you find yourself leaving your bed and your room. Without a drop of sleep in your eyes you walk down the halls and greet the guards silently with a smile on your face, changing the wings of the palace twice to go to the far left end and walking down numerous sets of stairs to get to the room you were looking for.

When you do get to it, you knock only once and excuse yourself in not caring if the guards were staring, finding your guard and best friend on his bed about to pass out. “Why is there such a thing where royals can walk into places without any alert beforehand?”

“I knocked.” He hums at that, and you move to take the seat in the chair at his desk across from his side of the bed. You look at him, who has his arms under his pillow, and think that it is better to pull the bandaid quickly rather than easing it. “Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” You love how he has given up on the honorific in this setting. Usually he would call you by your rather new honorific to get his mouth used to it. “Will you marry me?”

He snickers. “Isn’t that a rather important question to ask me at this hour?” You only smile, so he questions further with his squinted eyes. “Why?”

You shrug. “I need someone to share duties with, and I need someone who will understand me. The only person I can trust is you.”

That makes him smile sleepily, a soft huff of breath leaving his nose, causing his chest to jolt a bit forward. “Well I think I will have to take you up on that.”

“You do not have to,” You whine, a bit annoyed at yourself. “I can hold on for longer. Assign another senior advisor, I don’t know.” But it would not be the same as having someone you could constantly trust. And you needed that, someone who can be there for you whenever you needed them to, as much as you needed another monarch.

You also needed a partner if you were to commit to something so big.

“No, really,” He assures. “I feel honored. I don’t have much of a life outside of my life as your guard already. Which is okay, because I love it. I love that I get to spend so much time with my closest friend despite what they have to do, so when you ask that from me, it feels as something I would only benefit from,” There is a silence before he picks his words back up again, realizing they do not sound the greatest when they are left there. “As a person.”

“It is not that simple,” You warn him as you feel he leaves out some important points. “You will be the King. That is going to take a lot of work, at least a couple of years’ intense education. And all this time you have gotten used to shadowing people. It is a completely different thing to have countless shadows following you with every step you take.”

In all honesty you expect for him to consider it. To retract from his words, and to say that he is in fact not fit to that role because he wants to live a life more free. But he does not. Donghyuck just smiles and buries his face deeper into the pillow, and holds out a hand to you. “I was serious when I said I’ll have to take you up on that. I am willing to do whatever it takes.”

Relief washes over you then. It feels as if almost a big, heavy weight has been lifted from your shoulders at the knowledge that you will get to have someone to really help you out with everything and be there for you; someone who you will be willing to do all the same for them. And how fortunate it was that your closest friend would be that someone, because you think you lacked the energy to look out for new people at this point.

You sigh as you place your hand in his, holding onto his fingers when his curl into yours. “Thank you.” You whisper, and feel your hand get tugged towards him before you can feel his lips on your knuckles. “Let’s give these people the most flamboyant royal wedding they will ever witness.”

The two of you share a light laugh that would have surely been louder if it was not for the stupidly late hour this conversation took place in.

And that was it.

You had to remove Donghyuck from his position as your guard when you announced your engagement, getting rings the day after the conversation and breaking the news to the council at an emergency meeting. Thankfully they seemed to be on board with that, and teased the two of you for all the times you disappeared together without much explanation.

It made your heart pang that no, although you had disappeared together you two had not been the lovers. It was for and with someone else. Nonetheless, you were glad that they felt that way, so you made light of the situation by joining in on their laughs.

Donghyuck starts his education immediately after the announcement. It is a nightmarish process almost, seeing him so deep into studies you are far too acquainted with at that point, being reminded of your own struggles trying to learn. Sometimes you would meet him at the library if you had piled up document work to meet and work with him, which would result in him asking you questions about stuff he did not understand when the tutor was not around. Some other times he would nervously laugh at the dinner table (that he could finally join you at) when you would quiz him on things he should have learned, but he would do a great job at that as well, even with his occasional slip-ups.

Donghyuck would make public appearances with you from time to time, and the people would be loving the idea of you and him together. They would tell you how you went so well with each other and how you were so powerful together and they were great compliments, they were, but sometimes they would hurt you deep down even though you had a smile on your face.

In the first year of his education, you get a letter inviting you to a conference held in impartial land. A conference where safety measures and war prevention will be the focus, and one that will be held annually. You agree to it, go alone, see faces (one face in particular) that you do not want to see, and come back.

At a grand meal close to the end of the year with your family and the staff and the council and their own families, someone asks about the wedding plans. That happens to be the exact moment when you realize you do not have plans for your own wedding, and they tell you it is okay before drunkenly jumping from idea to idea on the colors and the venue and whatever else they had to talk about.

Mid-year after that, you slowly start letting Donghyuck in your business. You give him first-hand education, saying these documents should be handled like that and these types of documents should be taken into meetings instead of those ones even though they are basically the same thing, and these reports come from here to go to there, and they go there when you hand them to someone (which sometimes happened to be him in the past) but when you are the one sitting down while doing all your work you call people over like this when you want something to be delivered. And when you file them you can have your own way but one that is preferably neat, I like to do it this way, for example. It becomes an occurrence that grows more and more frequent as time goes by.

Around the cold fall of that year, Donghyuck almost gets done with his education. He had known quite a lot in theory having been with you for a long time and that was probably what helped with him and his pace, and since it came to that, the wedding planning started. Your parents joined in at that as well, and you got to see Donghyuck’s mother and siblings for the first time in years. Which was why you proposed to him the possibility of moving them into a house closer to the palace, or even into the palace that night. Because you knew his relationship with his family was close and sacred to him, and you knew that it had been interrupted by his heavy shifts as a guard and his obligation to stay in the palace. So, you thought it would be convenient for both sides if they lived closer.

Attire fittings for the wedding are always eventful with chitter chatter, some dramatic emotional response from both mothers and fathers as you two stood on platforms with your arms wide open to the sides, the tradition about to-be spouses not seeing each other’s attires until the wedding inapplicable simply because everything has to be perfect at a royal wedding.

Throughout everything, choosing outfits, choosing themes and colors, choosing the venue and sending the invitations, there is always a slight pull at your heart’s strings. The kind of pull where it feels a bit pitiful and hard to breathe. Sometimes your hand lands itself around the area on your chest where your first engagement ring would fall onto, and most times you can stop yourself by saying it is completely unneeded but sometimes you cannot stop it— and sometimes you can see Donghyuck realizing it.

But the hardest is when the wedding day finally comes right after the new year’s, on a bright sunny day without snowfall, which was extremely rare for where you lived. Everything was still and calm outside but not inside, neither inside the venue nor inside your heart and mind.

The reality of getting married gains another dimension when you walk into the venue. At the heart of a town rather far from the palace, the venue does not have the feeling of being far from home with its stone structure, greenery that surrounds it, and its grand scheme. Decorated in royal blue and a bright red that matches the liveliness of the blue, everything looks like how a royal wedding should look. There are golden lights on the walls and dropping from the ceiling that bring the power of the decorations down with their warmness yet somehow also emphasize the importance of everything. The old structure has cracks in which various plants and ivies have made their way in, the sole reason you and Donghyuck had chosen this place. Because you both believed that they symbolized second chances and faith, seeing as these plants had somehow survived the cold and the stones placed on top of the earth, and had been strong enough to crack through and claim this place as their home.

Overall, everything is bright, red and blue and green and golden, and it looks like this is your destiny. And everything including Donghyuck welcomes you, even though there is a road of hurt and imperfection that you still have to walk on.

You are grateful for that feeling.

Yet, suddenly everything feels wrong and out of place when you start the process of getting ready. Not because of Donghyuck and his dear soul that was trying his hardest, but because of yourself. Because your past self that was once in love with a person that did not exist anymore was still looking for a way and time to throw a tantrum about it all. It made sense, somehow, that it was at the most inappropriate moment that it would decide to act up.

The bigger problem is that a lot of people can see how you feel, presumably because you get quieter and inactive. You are extremely distracted from everything that you get so clumsy, tripping all over the place in the old, stone building that had greenery cracking through its a few centuries old material. The people who dress you might as well have been dressing a toy with how nonchalant and flappy your body was.

Despite the obstacles, they get you dressed and taken care of at your room, where you can hear people starting to walk into the venue. At first it is a few greetings between some handfuls of families and people, but it so quickly turns into a sea of undetectable voices that it is almost scary. Everyone sounds excited and happy outside in the hall, and you can hear them dining and conversing on topics that were mostly around you. That was nice after having your name in gossip for quite a long time regarding the espionage and your seemingly amateur ways of ruling, and the ones that suspected a relationship between you and the person you used to love.

Neither side shut the gossips down, but they died down anyways. You had gotten engaged shortly after their surfacing.

At some point people’s voices start to dim down. The wavy ocean turns into a much more still sea with hushed conversations, and it is then that you are able to hear the chants outside.

The happy chants of your people, who had come there to celebrate.

Donghyuck walks in when you get frozen in place, looking at the big, frosted and stained windows as if you could hear the chanting clearer if you did so. From the corner of your eye you see him nod his head slightly to the side and smile, silently ordering people to leave the room to only the two of you.

The ceremony would start soon.

He comes to stand in front of you, and he opens both of his hands, palms looking upright. You look down at them when you notice his moves and let your eyes linger there, not knowing if confidence or hesitance would take over you first.

Not being strong was never an option.

You place your hand in his with a deep exhale, and meet his eyes. Donghyuck smiles at you, as if to say it is alright. It will be okay.

And then he speaks.

“I know I am not the one you would have liked to have here today,” He starts, and that hurts you perhaps with the truth but also with your newfound care for him upon getting engaged, but he does not let you protest. “But I have once sworn to protect you with my life, and I just want you to know that I will continue on with it. And I swear to you— forget the Oath I will take in a matter of minutes now, I swear to you that I will try to be the best I can be for you, for us, for whatever that means from now on, and for our people.”

You smile at him with your first genuine smile of the day when a fresh comfort washes over your heart the same way an angry and fizzy ocean wave washes over the shore, and give his hands a squeeze, holding onto the hopeful future they offer. Thank you.

#NCT-WRITERS #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct x reader #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct jeno #nct haechan

[leeisacat]

Birthday Sex | A Kuroo/Bokuto/Akaashi/Kenma/f! Reader

A/N: Literally the most self indulgent one-shot I’ve ever written in my life, for God’s sake like this was straight out of a fantasy I had. Tags/Warnings: Smut, spanking, pet play, creampie, dom/sub roles, anal, role play, gangbang (?)

“Tetsu-kun, I’m home!”

(Name) slipped off her tennis shoes at the door, pushing them neatly in line with an assortment of men’s and women’s shoes. She peered down the hall, looking for a sign of her boyfriend.

To celebrate Kuroo’s birthday, the couple had invited over their closest friends for dinner. But, for how soon they should be arriving, it concerned her that her boyfriend didn’t seem to be home.

“Tetsu? Are you home?” she called out, still receiving no reply.

Narrowing her eyes, she hung up her coat and set down her bags— which, included the present she had picked out for her boyfriend. She walked down the hallway and turned into the kitchen.

It had been obvious he had started preparing dinner, and a pink sticky note was stuck to their usual barren fridge.

‘Ran to the store—

Something in the bedroom for you ;)’

She quirked an eyebrow, taking the note off while walking to the bedroom. It was his birthday, so why was he getting her things?

Pushing open the slightly ajar door, it was pitch black, the light from the hall shining in enough for her to make something out on the bed. She reached for the light switch, flipping it before emitting a small gasp. Her face turned beet-red.

Neatly laid out on the bed, there was a maid’s outfit that left little for the imagination. On top of it were matching black lace stockings, a simple red collar with a bell on it, and black cat ears. She noticed a small notecard placed on top of it, and immediately recognized her boyfriend’s writing.

‘Hi Kitten,

I hope you remembered our little talk a few days ago. It’s okay if you change your mind, but I definitely would like you to put a little show on for us tonight. Mostly me, of course.

P.S. remember my name, or else ;*’

Her eyes widened, recalling what their recent conversation was about. He’d asked her how she felt about trusted people watching them do their thing, and even possibly bringing them into their intimate moments. She agreed, as long as they both trusted whoever it was coming into their private space. But, it occurred to her that it was three other  people coming tonight— Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kenma. The thought of them also getting in on the action riled her up, causing her to press her thighs together.

She sighed, realizing that Kuroo would never force her into anything she was uncomfortable with, and the moment she said the safe word it would be stopped. Plus, the idea of being a cute little kitten maid for all her master’s  friends enticed her.

This was going to be an interesting night.

Changing into the maid costume with Kuroo’s favorite lingerie set underneath, she realized it  left nothing for the imagination. The fluffy skirt of the dress just barely sat beneath the curve of her ass, threatening to flash her lacy panties with one wrong move. The front dipped down enough for her cleavage to be on full display, daring to expose her bra underneath. She glanced in the mirror, her face flushing as she saw how scandalous it was. She sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on the stockings, and afterwards clipped each ear onto either side of her hair. Lastly, she had to put on the color.

Her fingers grazed over the nice leather, when she realized there was something engraved into it. It said ‘Property of Kuroo Testsurou’ , causing her face to flush more. But, she heard the front door open, and quickly fumbled to get the collar around her neck.

“Oh, where is my kitten~? I was expecting her waiting for me, is she hiding?”

She peeked her head out the bedroom door to see Kuroo standing at the entryway, seemingly waiting for her. Slowly, she stepped out into the light and walked towards him, twiddling her thumbs in front of her while keeping her eyes trained to the ground. He could hear the bell on her collar quietly jingle as she approached which caused him to chuckle.

“Ah, are you being shy? There’s no need, it’s just me,” he said, bring his hand up to brush her cheek, “You look very beautiful, by the way.”

“Th— Thank you, master,” she said, remembering his instructions, “And, happy birthday, of course.”

She finally brought her eyes up to meet his, gazing into them as they crinkled lightly with his smile. On the other hand, she was staring at him wide-eyed, an obvious blush not leaving her cheeks. He gently brought her in for a quick peck on the lips before breaking away.

“Thank you, kitten. Now, could you bring the groceries to the kitchen for me? I’m going to change, and then we can finish preparing dinner together,” he said smoothly, holding the two paper bags out for her to take.

She nodded, grabbing them and letting a small grunt out when she realized one was significantly heavier than the other. He smiled at her, brushing past her to the bedroom as she moved the bags to the kitchen. Peering into the heavy one, she realized it weight was due to its contents of alcohol.

As she was finishing putting away the groceries, she felt Kuroo wrapping her arms around her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re very tense, (Nickname), are you that nervous? Or, are you just that turned on~,” he said, dropping to a seductive whisper for the last sentence.

“Oh, you,” she said, playfully poking his cheek, “Yes, I’m nervous, Tetsu. Not only am I wearing a skimpy maid costume, but I’m about to be presented to our high school friends like this. You told them about this, right?”

His fingers brushed her thigh before his hand quickly came down hard on her ass cheek, causing her to yelp in pain.

“That’s my first and final warning for not addressing me properly. And yes, they know what they’re in for. Well, mostly. The maid costume is a bit of a surprise,” he chuckled darkly.

She spun around in his grasp, pushing him away before crossing her arms. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked up at him.

“My color is red . Kuroo Tetsurou, you invited three of our friends over without explaining to them about this ?” she said, motioning to her maid outfit, “You are going to scare them . They are going to be so flustered—!”

“ Hey ,” he said, placing his hand behind her neck to silence her with a kiss, “It’ll be alright. Kenma actually helped me pick out the dress for you. I was just teasing, they know, they know.”

“Can’t I just, like, change into this afterwards? How am I supposed to even address them? Should I also call them master?”

“ No. That name is reserved for me and only me,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly, “And, just refer to them by their names. Use formal honorifics, of course. Do this for me, pretty please ? You’re so cute when you give me puppy dog eyes when you’re begging for my—”

“Tetsu!” she exclaimed, “Fine. My light is green.”

With that, they continued prepping dinner together, an occasional teasing remark being slung at (Name). She would only roll her eyes in response (with her eyes closed, of course, couldn’t risk punishment this early into the night). She set the dining room table for the night, and set out glasses for the booze. Eventually, (Name) shooed Kuroo out of the kitchen to finish cooking dinner on her own, surprisingly with no protest from him. Soon, everything was ready, and she was nervously sitting on the couch next to Kuroo, legs neatly tucked under her as she focused on playing with her thumbs again.

He must’ve noticed that her nerves hadn’t gone, so he brought his hand up to her back, rubbing soft circles into her shoulders. She seemed to ease into his touch, looking a bit calmer than before.

The doorbell suddenly rang, causing her to jump slightly and look up to Kuroo with big eyes.

“Go on and greet our guests, kitten. I’ll be right behind you,” he said, motioning for her to walk to the door.

He quite literally was right behind her, hands on her hips slightly under her dress. She was already flustered enough as it was, but Kuroo has to dig his thumb under the band of her panties and snap it. She let out a soft whine before finally unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Hey, hey... Hey?!” Bokuto exclaimed, eyes landing on (Name), “Oh, wow .”

“Kou, stop ogling his girlfriend. (Surname)-san, don’t mind him too much,” Akaashi said, lightly swatting the back of his boyfriend’s head with an envelope, “Anyway, happy birthday Kuroo-san. We got this for you.”

He held the envelope out towards Kuroo, but he made no motion to grab it. Quickly, (Name) got the gist and grabbed it for him. She clutched it to her chest, bowing deeply.

“C— Come in, Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san. Make yourself at home,” she said, stuttering while a deep blush flooded her cheeks.

Kuroo wrapped an arm around her waist as they stepped to the side to let the couple in. They shed their shoes and coats, before (Name) stepped forward.

“I can hang your coats for you,” she said softly, holding out an arm.

The two exchanged a look of sorts before obliging, draping the coats over her arm. She left to go hang them in the closet across the hall, leaving the three boys alone momentarily.

“Kuroo... you have her referring to us so formally . I was... not expecting this,” Bokuto said, looking over to his raven-haired friend, “Is she comfortable with all this?”

“If she wasn’t, she’d tell us. (Name)’s just playing shy, that’s all. Come on, let’s wait for Kenma in the living room,” he replied cooly.

His friends followed him, and soon (Name) entered the living room. She was about to sit next to Kuroo on the couch before he gently grabbed her hand, pulling her into his lap. She softly gasped in surprise, but situated herself on his knee while folding her hands in her lap. Akaashi sat on the chair adjacent to the couch while Bokuto sat in opposite corner of the couch.

They soon fell into small talk, and Kuroo thankfully felt (Name) relax further. He was mindlessly stroking her thigh, occasionally squeezing it. She sat there though, letting the tension flee from her body. She only spoke when addressed, following the normal rules the Kuroo had set for her in this state. It was easy, and Bokuto nor Akaashi was acting phased by it in any way.

“So, is this a regular occurrence between you two, or what? Keiji never let’s me do this type of stuff with him, although he occasionally will dress up and wear a skirt for me,” Bokuto asked, looking curiously at Kuroo and (Name) before smirking as his boyfriend.

“Well, yes and no. This is the first time she’s ever dressed up for me like this, and it’s the first time we’ve allowed other people to see. But, we regularly use the names in the bedroom, even punishment if she’s being a little brat ,” he said, lightly smacking her thigh, “Which, to no surprise, she’s usually like that. I honestly think she gets off on it.”

“Do not!” she suddenly squeaked, blushing a furious shade of red.

“Ah, is that talking back I hear?” Kuroo mumbled darkly, using his hand to turn her head towards him.

She widened her eyes, nervously glancing to the other men in the room. They were only watching curiously as the scene unfold before them. Kuroo tapped into her cheek with his fingers to redirect her attention back to him.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you. Did you just now talk back to me?” he repeated himself.

“N— No, master,” she mumbled, barely audible.

“I can’t hear you kitten,” he said, a smirk now on his lips.

“No, master!” she said loud enough for everyone to hear, using all her strength to not tear her gaze away and bury her face in her hands.

To her avail, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” she blurted out, standing up and straightening her dress as best as possible.

Kuroo chuckled as she scurried away with her bell jingling, looking over to Bokuto and Akaashi. They two looked astonished at what had unfolded before them, definitely turned on . God, how were they expecting to last through dinner if the two were gonna act like that ?

(Name) greeted Kenma at the door, bowing deeply and addressing him in the same formal way.

“Kuro put you up to this, didn’t he? Ugh, if you’re gonna call me anything, just call me Kenma-san,” he said, finally looking up from his phone and giving (Name) a once over, “Oh, the dress does looks very... nice on you.”

She muttered a small ‘thank you’ while bowing slightly, taking his jacket and hanging it up with the others. Kenma joined the other boys in the room with a small blush dusting his cheeks, waving and giving his greetings.

Dinner went by fairly uneventful, (Name) engaging in small talk but still extremely embarrassed from what had happened before.  Kuroo would not ease up on the playful jabs here and there, thus not giving her even a moment to cool down. Her usual sassy demeanor was very subdued for the fact she was not sure what Kuroo would do as a punishment if she jabbed back. He seemed to enjoy the attention she was receiving from his friends a little more than her, almost prideful of flaunting his girlfriend.

While they were eating cake, that’s when Kuroo decided to make (Name) put on a show.

“Kitten,” he cooed, swiping some frosting from his slice onto his fingers, “Why don’t you clean my fingers?”

He waved his point and middle finger in front of her face, which were globbed over with the creamy frosting. She nervously glanced around before she felt his fingers pressed to her lips.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he said lowly, the words almost rumbling in his chest.

She tentatively gave his fingers a few kitten licks (staying true to her pet name) before wrapping her mouth around them. Slowly, she took them in to the knuckle, sucking and swirling her tongue around the appendages. Once she felt they were thoroughly cleaned, she opened her mouth and pulled away, a line of drool still connecting her tongue and his fingers.

Kuroo barely held back his groans, because damn . His girlfriend was hot.

“We should probably clean up the table. (Nickname)-chan, can you start gathering the dishes? I’m going to take care of the leftovers,” he said as nonchalantly as he could for the growing erection in his jeans.

She muttered a quick ‘yes, master’ before gathering dishes off the table. Kenma stood up though, grabbing his own bowl and plate.

“I’ll help her,” he said, trailing behind her to the kitchen.

She started rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher while Kenma brought them to her. While she was cleaning though, Kuroo brushed past her and flicked up the back of her skirt, causing her to yelp in surprise. A furious blush found its way back onto her cheeks as she tried to focus on finishing with the dishes.

Kenma watched the ordeal with a soft blush on his own face before turning to (Name). He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he looked to her.

“Kuro has not let up on you the whole night, has he?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

She gently closed the dishwasher, looking back to see Akaashi walked into the kitchen as she nodded in response to Kenma.

“This is... very embarrassing and,” she glanced over to the dining room, seeing Kuroo and Bokuto laughing loudly in their own conversation, “he’s not helping, no.”

“It’s because we’re just watching, isn’t it? Of course, I would also be shy if I was on full display like Pain-in-the-ass Kuroo-san is putting you on. We think it’s adorable though, don’t worry,” Akaashi said, mentioning a nickname from their high school days.

He brushed up to (Name), closing the distance rather quickly. She backed up into the counter, now pinned between it and Akaashi. Staring wide-eyes up at him, he lightly pinched her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, tonight is going to be enough to forget about all your embarrassment. Also, Kuroo filled us all in on your safe words, so if it’s ever too much, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

She nodded, before glancing over to see Bokuto and Kuroo staring at them. She became flustered again, bringing up her hands to her face to hide her blush.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi! You tryna start without us?” he exclaimed, a pout on his lips, “Not fair!”

“No,” he smirked back, “I’m just giving a pep-talk from one bottom to another. She’s so nervous, and you two aren’t helping.”

She let out a squeak of embarrassment, hiding her face in Akaashi’s chest. He casually wrapped an arm around her, placing a hand on the small of her back as he pulled her away from the counter.

“Who, me?!” Bokuto said, pointing a finger towards Kuroo, “It’s been her boyfriend the whole night!”

Akaashi chuckled at his boyfriend’s antics and started whisking (Name) away to the bedroom.

“Alright, but I’m getting first dibs on her. You two would destroy her in one fell sweep,” he called out, hearing they’re footsteps behind him.

The boys fighting over her caused her arousal to pool rather quickly, and in attempt to quell her desires she began rubbing her thighs together. Akaashi’s hands found themselves resting on her hips, and he narrowed his eyes as he dug his fingers into them.

“Are you trying to please yourself? No, no, none of that. You have to last for Kuroo-san.”

She whined, but obliged and stopped creating friction for herself. Bokuto soon was besides Akaashi, side-eying his boyfriend.

“So, what? You get first dibs?” he said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Boys, boys, settle down. I��m sure she’d be happy to take both of you at once,” Kuroo said, popping his head between them with a smirk on his face, “Kitten, be sure to listen to them. You’ll get the same punishment as you’d get with me if you disobey them.”

“Yes, master,” she said breathlessly, pressing herself back into Akaashi’s chest, “What would you like, sir?”

“Kneel,” Akaashi said before placing a hand on her shoulder and helping push her to her knees.

She let herself fall with a soft thump as her knees hit the ground. Her hands reached for Akaashi’s jeans first, but were redirected when he side stepped in order for Bokuto to stand in front of her. She slowly began undoing his pants, him watching her with a hungry gaze. Once the zipper was undone, she hooked her fingers through his belt loops and gently tugged them to his knees. His erection was very visible through his tight briefs, causing her to blush furiously. He was rather large, a bit more girth to his compared to Kuroo’s. She gulped, bringing her fingers to gently fiddle with his waistband.

“Well, what’re you waiting for, cutie? You scared ?” Bokuto said, staring her down with a cocky grin and his huge golden eyes.

She brought one of her hands to cup his erection through the frantic, running her hand slowly across it. A low rumble came from him, and he took the liberty of shoving his briefs off, his erection springing free in front of her face. Her eyes widened as she retreated her hands, looking up at him with big puppy eyes.

“Cat got your tongue? I though Kuroo would’ve taught you to respond when spoken to,” he purred, settling his hand in the back of her hair.

She gulped again, eyes traveling down and landing on his dick.

“It’s— it’s big,” she whispered, coaxing a small laugh from Bokuto.

“You’ll get used to it,” Akaashi shrugged, unzipping his own jeans.

Boluto prodded his member at her lips, and she began to experimentally lick along his shaft. She sucked on the tip and tasted his precum, causing him to groan and dig his fingers into his scalp. He took the opportunity to push slowly into her mouth, getting halfway before stopping.

“You okay, princess?” he said, half moaning while gripping her hair.

Her jaw was already aching from the stretch, but she nodded as much as she could. Bokuto pushed the rest of the way in, her nose brushing the wiry hairs at the base of his shaft. She was gagging slightly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She tapped on his thigh, signifying she was running out of air. He released her, causing her to gasp for breath, but it was short lived as he reentered her mouth. Luckily for her, he set a slow and steady pace, allowing her to bob up and down his length comfortably.

“Bokuto, there’s no need to hold back. She can handle it,” Kuroo suddenly piped up from across the room, strewn across the chair in the corner.

She glanced over with worry, seeing her boyfriend sitting there lazily stroking his own erection, a smirk across his face. Bokuto suddenly slammed into her throat, causing her to gag and slobber all over his dick. He set a grueling pace, grunting with each thrust into her mouth. Her hands found the back of his thighs, nails digging into his skin as she tried to steady herself. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as he ruthlessly fucked her mouth, makeup smudging along with it.

“Don’t— Don’t spill a drop,” he said between grunts, signifying her of his upcoming orgasm.

He slammed one last time as deep as he could into her mouth, hot spurts of cum shooting down her throat. It filled her mouth quickly, but she forced herself to swallow as much as possible. Some dribbled out onto her chin, but she was quick to lick it off, and opened her mouth wide to show Bokuto for good measure.

“Good girl,” he smirked, panting hard and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

It wasn’t long before another dick was prodding at her mouth. This time, she looked up to see Akaashi.

He was thankfully not as girthy as Bokuto was, allowing her to easily maneuver around it. She swirled her tongue around his tip and began to suck up and down his length, taking note that he was slightly sweeter tasting than Bokuto. More tears streamed down her face as she deep throated Akaashi, causing him to moan loudly.

“F— Fuck,” he said breathlessly, “You’re good at this.”

She went back to focusing on his tip, stroking the rest of his slicked length with her hand. Her sucking coaxed grunts and moans from him as he rocked his hips with her movements. She looked up to see Bokuto kissing up his neck slowly before biting down harshly, causing him to groan aloud.

“You think you can swallow my cum too? I’d hate to ruin your dress,” Akaashi asked, petting her head.

In response, she sucked even harder before resuming deep throating him, causing him to twitch in her mouth. He was groaning between pants before pressing himself into her mouth and emptying his load into it. She tried to swallow as much as possible, but she couldn’t, and more than a few drops dribbled out down her chin.

She quickly tried to scoop it back into her mouth with her fingers, but Bokuto grabbed her hand to stop it, crouching down to her level and staring at the white substance. He took the liberty of licking the substance off slowly, before kissing her harshly and shoving the remains into her mouth.

“Hmm, what should we do with you? You didn’t swallow it all,” he said, a mischievous look in his eyes.

Fear filled her eyes before she pressed her forehead to the floor, in a apologetic way. But, with how short her dress was, her ass was now on full display.

“Please! It— It was an accident! I’m sorry, it won’t ever happen a—again!” she exclaimed.

Bokuto looked at Kuroo, before shrugging.

“It’s your call on this one,” he said, folding his arms, “Your her boyfriend.”

“Stand up,” Kuroo called out, standing up as well while pulling his boxers and pants back on.

She slowly pushed herself up off the floor, eyes trained on Kuroo. He coaxed her to come to him with his fingers, staring at her intensely. Looking around the room, she realized that all eyes were on her. She hadn’t even noticed Kenma in the doorway, probably had been standing there for the whole ordeal.

“Yes master?” she said before yelping as Kuroo yanked the front of her dress up.

His thumb slid her panties to the side as he swiped two fingers against her slit, causing her to shudder as he gathered her fluids. He brought them up in front of his face, staring dully at the his now slightly shiny fingers.

“This doesn’t look very sorry to me. I’ve let too many things slide since we have guests over,” he said, eyes boring into her, “What’s your color?”

She knew exactly where this was headed, and couldn’t help but press her thighs together in excitement. Her face was completely flushed as she stared doe-eyed up at him, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“It’s... green,” she quietly said, looking at the floor.

Kuroo suddenly fell back into the chair, patting his lap. She gulped hard, stepping towards.

“Bend over my lap. Don’t make me wait,” he said lowly, looking at her with half lidded eyes.

She whines softly, but ultimately obliged. Her perky ass was in the air, skirt pushed up to expose the lace of her panties.

“God, you’ve soaked through,” he said, staring at the thin fabric covering her core, “Such a little slut, getting off on sucking other men’s dicks in front of your master. You want to be spanked, huh? You like the attention?”

He was softly rubbing her ass cheeks, squeezing every so often. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, avoiding the other men’s gazes.

“N— no,” she stuttered out, before yelping with the hard slap to her ass that followed.

“Wasn’t a question for you to answer, kitten. Now, be a good girl and count to ten.”

She prematurely winced as she awaited the first hit, squinting her eyes shut. It hit her harder than the previous one, causing her to bite down hard on her lip as she whimpered.

“One,” she whined, clenching her fists until her knuckles were white.

“What do we say?” he said teasingly, lightly pinching her burning ass cheek.

It caused her to yelp, a flush of red flooding into her cheeks.

“Thank you, master,” she quietly mumbled.

He ran his fingertips gently across her exposed thighs before once again harshly snapping her cheek.

“Two! Thank you, master,” she quickly said, a little louder than the previous.

Bokuto was watching her carefully from a distance, before turning to Akaashi.

“Why don’t you do that for me, huh?” he said, playfully swatting his partner’s ass.

Akaashi only side-eyed him, before they heard another harsh slap and a gasp from (Name).

“Three! Ah, thank you master!”

“She didn’t even do anything relatively that bad, Kuro,” Kenma butted in, walking further into the room while watching his friend give another harsh slap to her ass, “Don’t you think this is a bit harsh?”

“Are you saying you’d like to take her place?” he said, smiling coyly while enunciating his word with yet another harsh slap to her ass, “I mean, she is getting significantly wet from this. I don’t think it’s as much as a punishment as she leads us to believe.”

“F— five, thank you, m— master,” she stuttered, biting her lips hard from the burning of her cheeks (face and bottom).

Kenma has a thoughtful look before he shrugged leisurely.

“Just thought we could get to the main event sooner, that’s all.”

Kuroo quirked his eyebrows before a devious grin spread across his face, and he decided to give the last five spankings sequentially, causing her to squeak and whimper from the intensity.

“Six— Ah, seven, m— master. Eight! N— nine! Ten! Thank— thank you, master,” she stuttered out with each slap, whimpering incessantly.

“There, happy? So impatient with my kitten. You did good, cutie pie,” he said, flipping over (Name) and cradling her in his arms, “Now, were gonna treat you real well.”

Kuroo carried her effortlessly to the large bed, setting her down on her back. He gave her small pecks from her mouth trailing down her neck, sucking harshly at her collarbone. Small moans and whimpers escaped her lips as his hands slid up the dress, flipping the front up onto her stomach.

“So naughty, wearing my favorite color lingerie,” he cooed, pressing two fingers to her clothed entrance, “And you’ve even soaked through them more? My, my, such a slutty kitten. Getting off on having so many men watch her get manhandled by her master.”

Being so focused on Kuroo, she didn’t even notice that Bokuto had slipped onto the bed. She felt his arms push her torso up to sit behind her, and his hands got to work on massaging her chest through her dress. It was certainly hard to keep her composure like this. The feeling of his re-hardened member grinding into her back only intensified the heat traveling directly to her core. Kuroo finally dug his fingers under the band of her panties and dragged them down her legs, tossing them onto the floor. He removed his own shirt with it, then lowering himself back down to kiss her.

Akaashi was only in his boxers when he moved to help Bokuto push the sleeves of her dress of her shoulder to exposed her bra-clad chest. He pinched and prodded at her nipples through the lacy garment, causing a slew of moans to escape her mouth. Kuroo was teasing her lower regions with his mouth, nibbling at her thighs only to ghost over the part she wanted his mouth the most. It was frustrating, but with Bokuto’s arms holding back her own, she couldn’t grab his hair and pull him to the desired spot.

“P— Please,” she gasped, “Tetsu please .”

Akaashi dug under her bra and pinched both her nipples hard, seemingly retaliating for using Kuroo’s name. She whimpered with each tug and pull while Bokuto unclasped her bra, taking the sleeves of her dress off fully before flinging it to the floor. Her chest was now fully exposed, and Akaashi brought one of the buds into his mouth. Bokuto’s lips were attacking her neck with licks and soft bites, and she swore she was about to lose it if one of them didn’t fuck her in that moment.

“Oh~?,” Kuroo purred while looking up at her, fanning his breath over her throbbing pussy, “Use your words, kitten. I’m no mind reader.”

“Please, Tetsurou , please fuck me!” she cried out, balling her fists up into the sheets.

He chuckled lowly before ridding himself of his remaining clothes, his cock springing free from it’s confines. She was so focused on her lover, she yelped at the slick finger prodding her back entrance.

“I’m gonna wreck your back door, princess,” Bokuto whispered lowly into her ear before nibbling on it, finger circle around the tight hole.

Kenma finally got in on the action when he pushed two fingers past her plush lips, pressing down lightly on her tongue.

“You didn’t forget about me, did you?” he said, palming himself as he watched her close her lips around his fingers.

She couldn’t help but gasp when Bokuto finally slipped a finger into her hole, whining quietly at the unfamiliar sensation. At this point, with all the different sensations on her body happening at once, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.

“Tetsu, I— I— This, it’s, ah~! ”

She was taken away from the other men by Kuroo suddenly, flipping on top of him to press her bare chest to his. His dick was pressed against her thigh, a copious amount of precum glistening on the tip. Their lips locked in a hot kiss, and he didn’t seem to mind her calling him by his given name.

Bokuto stuck another finger in her hole, her moan being swallowed up by Kuroo’s mouth. He was scissoring and stretching it with lube to prep her for his own length. Kuroo placed both hands on her hips, maneuvering her to just the tip of his member. She was panting when she broke from the kiss, whining quietly as he rubbed against her slit.

Slowly, Kuroo lowered her onto him, whimpers escaping her lips as his hips pressed flush against hers.

“Good kitten,” he cooed, running his hand through her hair, “You’re taking me so well. Look at you, so pretty when you’re stuffed full of my cock.”

He let her sit for a minute, watching Bokuto as he pulled his lubed fingers from her hole. Akaashi handed him a condom, to which he quickly tore open and began rolling on his length.

Although his wasn’t as long as Kuroo’s, he made up for the loss with his impressive girth. He’d probably leave (Name) unable to walk for days if he was too rough. She wasn’t used to it the way Akaashi was.

“If you get too rough with my kitten Bokuto, I will bite your dick off,” Kuroo snapped, playfully but with a glimmer of seriousness in his eyes.

“Okay, okay! Got it,” he said whilst raising his arms in defense.

Akaashi moved to where her head was with Kenma, the two stripping away their own clothes and tossing them to the floor. She squeezed in delight seeing their cocks being pushed in front of her face, causing Kuroo to groan lowly underneath her.

“Kitten, if you squeeze like that again I might get a bit impatient and fuck you til you see stars,” he growled, causing her to smirk.

“I think that’s what you intend to do any— Ohhh fuck! ”

It slipped out of her mouth unintentionally as Bokuto sank his length into her hole, causing her to moan out the curse words. Which, in return, caused Kuroo to snap a hand at her already tender ass cheek.

He began to move his length inside her, thrusting up while Bokuto sank in. It started slow and steady, but soon the pace quickly became relentless. Kenna’s head prodded at her lips, which she happily accept, sucking and licking at his length. Her moans were muffled by his dick, and soon Akaashi was prodding his own at her lips too.

“Take them both, like the good kitten you are,” Kuroo said seeing as she hesitated.

She switched between sucking off Akaashi and Kenma while being rammed relentlessly from both Kuroo and Bokuto. It was hard to keep her attention on anything as so much was happening to her body at once. It didn’t help when Kuroo snakes his hand between their bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it in circles with her thumb. It caused her to spasm around him, and Kuroo realized she was finally edging onto her orgasm.

Bokuto was the first to cum, purely because he was still sensitive from the first time he came and it didn’t help how god damn tight (Name) was. He emptied his load into the condom and pulled out, slumping backwards onto the plush of the bed. She whined at the loss of contact, but immediately Kuroo picked up his pace in thrusting into her from underneath to reach their climaxes together. Unable to focus on anything but her boyfriend’s relentless pounding, she released Kenma’s member with a pop and leaving him to finish himself off, along with Akaashi but neither of them minded. The sight laid out before them was more than enough to bring them to their own ends.

Finally, (Name) clenched hard around Kuroo’s lenght as his thrusts became sloppier, his thumb still working relentlessly on her clit. With a loud cry, she came around him, and he wasn’t far behind. He pulled her flush against his hips, digging his finger into her own as he came deep inside her, letting out a deep groan of his own.

She let her weight collapse on top of him out of exhaustion, his softening member still deep inside her. Kuroo gently rolled her off him, pulling out to see their mixed fluids running down her thighs. The two of them were still panting as she cuddled into his side, wrapping her arms around his chest. He sighed in content, pulling her closer and turning to kiss her softly on the lips.

“You did so well, baby. God, I love you so much,” he said, peppering soft kisses all over her face, “How are you feeling? Do you need anything, kitten?”

“Happy birthday, Tetsu,” she mumbled, burying her face into his chest.

“I’ll run a bath for you two,” Akaashi said, sauntering to the bathroom already dressed in his boxers, “I know she’s sore at least from this one.”

He jabbed a thumb in the direction of Bokuto. His partner laughed softly as he stood up from the bed, finding his own discarded clothes on the floor.

“She took me like a champ though. Actually, all of us! Thanks for sharing her, Kuroo-kun,” he said, pulling on his jeans.

“It was her decision, ultimately. I sprung this unto her very last second,” he replied, gently scooping her up, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to make sweet love to my girlfriend in the bath.”

Bokuto only laughed at this, Kenma rolling his eyes as he pulled on his shirt.

“Oh, and you all are free to stay the night. The couch pulls out and the guest bedroom is just down the hall,” he called out over his shoulder, brushing past Akaashi as he entered the bathroom.

Once the other men had sauntered off to do their own things, Kuroo locked the bedroom door and saw how peaceful his girlfriend looked surrounded by bubbles and the scent of lavender. He carefully stepped into the tub, pulling her into his lap as the warm water sloshed lightly around them.

“How you holding up, (Nickname)?” he said softly, carefully massaging some shampoo into her hair, “You feeling alright?”

“I feel like I should be the one doing this for you,” she giggled, leaning back into him.

“Oh, no no no. You’ve done enough for me tonight. Thank you, by the way. For riding along with my crazy idea,” Kuroo replied while scooping some water onto her head, “Here, tilt your head back for me.”

She obliged, him rinsing out the shampoo before gently running his fingers through her hair with some conditioner. Sighing in content, she turned her head to the side to give gentle kisses along his jaw.

“Now, if you keep doing that, I’m really gonna plow you into the tub.”

“Testurou!” she mumbled against his neck, laughing, “Just let me love on you a bit, just right now.”

(Name) turned her body around in the water, her lips finding Kuroo’s.

“I love you, baby,” she mumbled against his lips, smiling.

“I love you too, kitten,” he mumbled back, squeezing her gently, “But, since it’s my birthday can you give me one more present?”

“What is it, love?”

“Can I please actually plow you into the bath?”

“Fiiine,” she laughed gently, entangling her hand in the back of his wet hair, “Just be gentle, okay? My ass really hurts.”

“Damn Bokuto, told the guy to be gentle or I’d bite his dick.”

“You’d what?!” she exclaimed, widening her eyes.

“Nothing.”

Before she could reply, he silenced her with a kiss, and soon enough, they were making sweet love in the tub.

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #kenma x reader #smut #fanfic #haikyuu #insankan #first post #kenma kozume #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #birthday sex #fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #kuroo x bokuto x akaashi x kenma x reader #literally so wild

[sparklyjojos]

THE SAIMON FAMILY CASE recaps [8/13]

In which we meet the children, Ajiro becomes a Big Damn Hero, and the detectives get a tour combined with even more explanations about magic.

--

Waiting for the morning of January 19th to arrive, Ajiro and Kirigirisu discuss the case once more.

If Tamako was murdered, then how? Did seeing the curtain change colors shock her to death? Kirigirisu muses that since the family is full of magicians, maybe someone hypnotized her in such a way that the color change was a signal for her to drop dead. Ajiro replies that it’s not plausible; hypnosis can’t actually make the subject do something they wouldn’t want to do on at least some level. Hypnotizing even someone with suicidal tendencies into dying would be pretty hard. A more plausible option is that Tamako was already dead before her wheelchair was moved to the stage. If so, then Akiko who brought her there would be the obvious suspect.

The problem is that Akiko was the next person to die. However, if her death really was a murder, then the culprit chose a very unreliable killing method, so maybe it really was just an accident.

Yuuta’s death was likely a murder. The witnesses claimed they saw a man digging a hole in the sand, but maybe that man was actually the culprit burying the body.

Daisen could very well have been murdered; if Takayoshi made it into the mountains and performed the switch without being spotted, then an assassin also could have hidden somewhere. Ajiro theorizes that maybe Yuuta went to Tottori using Daisen’s car, then got murdered, which would make Daisen believe he himself was the intended target. Of course, everything is just a hypothesis.

“The first thing we should be trying to learn is who is targeting who,” Ajiro says. “The target may be Fujita-gumi, but at the same time it may be the Saimons… I think we should keep an eye on the Tsukumos and Tousens as well. I don’t really have a tangible plan on how to do it yet, but—Tensui, you’re here, aren’t you.”

The sliding door to their room moves aside revealing Tensui standing quietly in the dark hallway.

“I had a feeling someone was there,” Ajiro says without surprise while Kirigirisu as always has to take a moment to calm down his pulse.

Just like before, the conversation between the three is done through writing. Tensui proposes that he and Miku will keep the Saimon household under close observation throughout the day.

Kirigirisu has a strange feeling that maybe Tensui is actually the murderer, grasping the chance to get closer to his next victim… but no, that would be stupid, considering the next victim may not even live in Kami-Saimon, and with two Tensuis in existence one could still move freely even if the other one was stuck somewhere.

The detectives can likely trust Takayoshi to keep an eye on the Fujita household too. That awkward anxious man is the last person Kirigirisu would suspect of murder.

This leaves one problem: if one Tensui is going to be watching his family all day, how will he know what the other Tensui is doing and if he’s not in danger?

Do not worry about it, Tensui writes. Whenever I’m out and about, the other I always secludes himself in the shrine. No one other than us can enter it.

By “the shrine”, he means the building on the little island in the middle of the garden’s pond. Before Tensui leaves the room to hide, he asks them to show up at the pond a little later.

--

In the morning, Ajiro and Kirigirisu take a walk through Kami-Saimon’s splendid garden, wondrous in the middle of a bright winter day. The shrine Tensui talked about is visible on the little island at their big koi pond, Ryuugaike. With its octagonal base and roof, the shrine looks highly similar to the famous Yumedono, the “Hall of Dreams” of Houryuu-ji Temple in Ikaruga.

Once the detectives make a circle around the pond, Kirigirisu realizes that not only does the shrine not have any visible entrance, there isn’t even a bridge leading to the island.

“The shrine is called Seiryoin,” Ajiro informs him.

Seiryoin… Kirigirisu imagines it might be written 清涼院 [like the JDC writer’s name], a fitting name for this “pure” and “bright” “temple”. Ajiro doesn’t actually know how the name is supposed to be written, but his pick would be 静療院, a temple of “quiet” “recuperation”. Maybe neither way is correct, who knows.

The detectives are waiting on the shore for Tensui when someone suddenly appears next to them. “Suddenly appears” seems like the right phrase to use, considering the man’s footprints begin in the middle of the snowy field as if he teleported there.

The man is, even more surprisingly, not Soga Tensui, but that quiet contemplative man who played the afro clown in the show: Saimon Akio. (Tamako’s grandson, Akiko’s son, Takayoshi’s and Taishi’s brother.)

“Good morning! Indeed what a good morning we have,” Akio greets them with a kind expression. “But more importantly—look over there!”

He points towards the island, where in front of their very eyes Soga Tensui emerges from the doorless shrine, seemingly phasing out through the stone wall. Then he starts walking into the lake—no, walking on the lake, getting only his soles wet, and casually makes it to the other side away from the detectives. His famous Sea Walk.

“Anyway, I’m going to be the one guiding you around today,” Akio says. It’s only expected, seeing as Tensui will be busy keeping an eye on the house.

--

Akio gives them a sightseeing car trip around town—Tsuwano is small enough that it’s not a far journey. The detectives climb the local torii to get a full look at the town from up high. It’s easy to notice where the Tsukumos and Tousens live; it’s a surprisingly wide space south of town, full of various buildings and trailer houses. The two families’ houses are actually connected with Shimo-Saimon into one complex, demonstrating just how closely their lives are intertwined. The entire complex is called Sanasou (山烏荘)—a strange wordplay on the phrase “the trio’s house” (三羽烏の家).

Akio drives them to Sanasou. As soon as they arrive, they spot a few snowmen and a lot of tiny footprints on the ground, and then several curious children come running their way, some happily shouting seeing Akio. A few kids are still holding snowballs; it seems the adults interrupted one fierce battle.

The oldest child present is Tousen Matoki, looking around grade school age and acting like he’s the kids’ leader.

“Look, look!” Matoki does the thing where you put your right hand in your left jacket sleeve and left hand in your right sleeve, and makes an attempt at a dignified princely expression. “I’m Shoutoku Taishi!”

“Oh come on, Maji-chan, you do this every time,” comments the girl next to him. It’s Matoki’s sister Yomiko, the one who played Koyomi. She may have looked older on stage, and may have seemed a bit creepy with her staring back that one time, but with kids her age around she turns out to be a really nice girl. The nickname Maji-chan probably came from an alternative reading of Matoki’s name and is of course a horrible pun on the word “magician”.

Matoki and Yomiko act quite brave and natural in front of adults they barely know. In comparison, the other girl present—Tsukumo Emu—is hiding behind Yomiko’s back, and even further behind them, keeping careful distance, staring at the adults cautiously, are Tensui’s twin sons, Juku and Joukei.

The twins look pretty much identical, but after several meetings with the family Kirigirisu has learned to somewhat differentiate between them. Joukei is the one lacking confidence and with constant scared look in his eyes. Juku’s eyes just seem emotionless and unimpressed. Though their intense, somehow unnaturally pretty stares are filled with different emotions, they equally make Kirigirisu feel like his consciousness is trying to slip away.

It’s hard to believe that either of the twins would play the cheerful, energetic role of Kotensui. The puppet’s voice must have been dubbed over by another boy.

Apparently the twins got here from Kami-Saimon on their bikes to play with the other children.

“Chisato and Chiaki already got here too,” Joukei informs in a timid voice.

Juku mutters something too low to be heard.

“What did you say, Juku-sama?” Yomiko asks. (Why the ultra-honorifics among children?, Kirigirisu thinks in surprise.)

Beautifully expressionless Juku mutters the same thing a bit louder. It sounds like Kudaranai… Ima wa kudaranai yo… Huh? “This is stupid”? “It’s useless now”? What is?

Before Kirigirisu can figure it out, they hear a woman scream at the top of her lungs.

“Ria! Koma! NEMU!”

Everyone turns to see the most unusual scene. Two Shetland Sheepdogs are running towards them at breakneck speed, pulling a sled with a crying tiny girl—Tsukumo Nemu—and being chased by the trio of Nemu’s terrified mother Yumeji, Matoki and Yomiko’s mother Maki, and the only still single Tsukumo sibling Ranma. Several white doves are flying around in chaos.

“What the… Nemu, watch out!” Akio shouts and runs towards her, Ajiro instantly joining his side.

Before they can reach the sled, the dogs see them approach and react with a sudden swerve, the force involved sending little Nemu flying high in the air.

In an instant, something similar to two long poles zooms past Kirigirisu. He glances back: Kotensui’s Magic Hands are being deployed out of Juku’s sleeves. They reach towards Nemu, and barely, just barely—

—miss their mark.

But Ajiro is already close enough, jumps in the air and grabs the girl before she can hit the ground. Nemu is safe in his arms.

Once everyone catches their breath, the newly arrived adults explain what happened. The dog sled is a toy strictly for the older kids. Nemu had to jump on when no one was looking, scaring the dogs and making them run for the hills.

The white doves flying around belong to Tsukumo Ranma, who takes care of the family’s aviary. Though in his late twenties, he still has a lot of a cheerful child left in him, and perhaps because of that all the kids in the family love him. When the sled incident happened, he was in the middle of loading doves up his sleeves to surprise the children with a Channing Pollock-style illusion, and the birds got out in the chaos.

Teary-eyed Yumeji thanks again and again for saving her daughter. It looks like Ajiro became an instant hit with the kids, too, graduating from an adult stranger to someone they can trust. Even shy Joukei and Emu, even stoic Juku are all smiling at him.

For some reason, Juku’s look of approval and respect towards Ajiro leaves an especially deep impression on Kirigirisu.

--

Akio leads them to the training studio. A few girls are already there: Chisato and Chiaki (Akio’s daughters) along with Akiko (Taishi’s daughter) are training their ribbon-hula hoop routine, while slightly older Tsukumo Seika observes them with a critical eye. The girls stop, not wanting to show the secret to outsiders, but Akio assures them it’s fine; Tensui actually wants them to explain the method to the detectives. Akio leaves for a moment to change into his costume while the girls perform the illusion.

Just like in the show, the girls dance with ribbons which suddenly turn into hula hoops. Chiaki and Chisato successfully make their moving hoops link together, Akiko approaches with her own, and—all the hoops clang down to the ground.

“What are you doing, Akiko?!” Seika yells.

While Akiko is staring on the floor with tears in her eyes, Kirigirisu takes a glance at the hoops… which turn out not to be as normal as he thought.

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” says Akio, suddenly showing up next to them in his clown costume, though without makeup. (How can this man just keep appearing out of thin air?) He picks up a hula hoop and it suddenly returns to being a ribbon with a sound like tape measure retracting.

Akio explains that the ribbon-hoop is a magic prop. What looks like the ribbon’s handle is actually hiding the entire hoop, which can zoom out telescopically in an instant. The resulting hula hoop isn’t actually a closed ring, but has an opening small enough that it can’t be seen while moving fast. The illusion of the Linking Hula Hoops is basically an unusual variation of the famous Linking Rings.

“But linking the hoops while moving so fast… could anyone accomplish such a feat?” Kirigirisu asks despite having already witnessed it a few times.

“We are the Circus of Magic,” Akio says. “Any illusion requires training to polish one’s technique, especially circus acts combined with magic. That’s why these girls are practicing hard every day.”

“And apparently can’t focus at all lately!” Seika comments harshly, but calms down a little when Akio asks her to demonstrate a few more illusions with him.

Akio and Seika first set up the little table from two planks; this too is apparently a special tool that can be bought in a magic shop. Then Akio produces three red balls out of nowhere and passes them to Seika, who turns them white with a stroke. Kirigirisu inspects the balls and realizes they are reversible, just like that handkerchief changing colors that Tensui showed him. (Even stern Seika looks tickled seeing Kirigirisu’s child-like joy as he keeps changing the ball’s color back and forth.)

Akio demonstrates the next part: turning the balls into long pins by inserting them into an empty tube.

“Are you familiar with Doraemon?” he asks.

“Dorae… it that also an illusion?” Kirigiru doesn’t understand why the girls start laughing at him when he says this.

“It’s a very popular comic for children.”

“I’m familiar with it,” Ajiro says. “My son Souya is a fan, so we’ve read through it many times. I think it’s a masterpiece.”

A short explanation on Doraemon follows. Kirigirisu finds the premise fascinating (a time-travelling cat robot from the 22nd century who has a four-dimensional pouch?!) and decides he and Kano will have to check it out later.

Akio invites him to watch the illusion again, but standing behind the table this time. He sets the tube on the table, then retrieves a white pin from inside his clown costume’s front pocket (maybe not as spacious as Doraemon’s pouch, but still big) and hides it behind the tube. So that’s how something can magically appear “from the inside” when the tube is lifted.

Kirigirisu inspects the tube closer and realizes the opening facing up is slightly narrower than the one on the bottom… and that’s because there’s something similar to a small pocket around that opening, where the squishable balls can be hidden. A spectator looking through the tube from its bottom end wouldn’t notice anything suspicious.

Next, another illusion making use of the spectators’ limited angle of view. Akio holds one ball between his fingers and with swift movements makes it magically multiply into three… except the two additional balls are actually just two empty half-spherical shells. What seemed like a single ball actually had those two shells covering it. It’s a variation of the popular illusion known as the Multiplying Billiard Ball.

Finally, Akio performs the Five-Ball Cascade for them, five balls changing colors from white to red in mid-air as they’re juggled. The secret here is astonishingly simple: the balls used for this particular routine have their halves colored differently, white on one side and red on the other. The rest of the act is just a matter of practice.

“A different method is used for the pins changing colors,” Akio explains. “Do you know what that could be, Ajiro?”

“Using a mirror, I think.”

Judging by the girls’ expressions, Ajiro got it right, but Kirigirisu doesn’t understand how on earth a mirror could be used that way.

Each of the three girls takes two white pins and stands in a triangle formation, while Seika heads slightly behind them… and disappears into thin air. The three girls start the juggle, but eventually sneakily throw the white pins behind them where they disappear, only for red pins to be thrown back instead. It’s not that Seika disappeared; she hid behind a large mirror to help with the act.

Kirigirisu understands now how Akio was able to appear out of thin air earlier. Mirrors.

Akio gets to the next illusion. He takes an empty beer bottle, puts it inside his hat… no, just pretends to put it there, while actually hiding it in his chest pocket. So that’s how. The sweets were likewise produced out of his spacious pocket rather than from the hat.

Finally, Akio gives them what looks like a remote control with a small lever, encouraging them to play with it for a second while he’s changing back into normal clothes. The lever turns out to move the arms of those tall three-armed fire stands from the show, opening and closing them back inwards like an umbrella. The stands are designed in such a way that fire can be extinguished in an instant by pushing the arms into the stand.

“Juku’s Magic Hands are a similar mechanical device, though a lot more complicated,” Akio says once he joins them again, then announces that this would be enough explanations for the day.

--

Akio continues to guide them around the place. He leads them to another building—for some unknown reason called Shakuya (杓屋)—where two hammer sharks are swimming in a giant tank under the watchful eye of their caretaker, Tsukumo Souma, the hunchbacked man who’s little Nemu’s father. He doesn’t seem to be one for much conversation.

As they leave the building, they bump into Ranma again—and thank god, because his calming personality is somewhat needed after those sharks. Ranma shows them around the aviary filled with countless dove cages surrounding a cramped aisle in the middle. There’s a particularly big mysterious box with closed double doors in the back.

“Do you keep birds in there too?” Ajiro asks.

“Oh, no. There’s just this big figure of a dove inside. We’ve had it for ages, it serves the role of a god protecting the birds. We call it Onikaru-sama.”

The detectives have already met Ranma, Souma and Miku, so it’s time to head to the main part of Sanasou and meet the fourth Tsukumo sibling, Tsushima, the man looking like a bank employee. That first impression turns out to be close to life, as the man manages the show’s finances, looking as stressed as one can expect considering how much debt they’re in. He’s constantly busy and doesn’t really want to talk to anyone. As they’re leaving, they spot the man’s nervous son, Touji, who quickly hides somewhere.

Tsukumo Karan (Seika’s mother who played the Courtisane Hana Dayuu) then shows them to a room in which elderly Tsukumo Tamako and Tousen Tamako are resting in beds next to each other, under full-time care of Tousen Natsuko. In another room Tsukumo Mitama is similarly caring for her husband Gensui (the old one, known as the magician Soga Tengen in his days).

They quickly leave as to not disturb the seniors. Akio tells the detectives about how decades ago, shortly after the war, the show’s most splendid illusion was the underwater escape as performed by Soga Tengen. One day during practice his son Souma forgot to lock the cage, resulting in the shark viciously biting Tengen. The magician survived, but would never be able to move on his own again. Thirty years later, Tengen still leads his life in bed constantly cared for by his wife Mitama, while Souma still continues to raise sharks in a neighboring building despite protests from a few family members.

The tour comes to an end around noon. Ajiro calls Daisetsu and Miku in turn, making sure everything is fine in the Fujita residence and in Kami-Saimon. Daisetsu says that maybe Ajiro saving Nemu prevented the day’s unlucky accident, so they have nothing to worry about now. Maybe the case is going to stop here? Indeed nothing happens until late evening, so Ajiro and Kirigirisu head to the same bar as the previous night, meeting up with Daisetsu, Takayoshi and Uyama (somehow with an even more pronounced way of sighing “oh, oh!” now) as well as with Hyousen’s son Hyousai. Surely nothing bad will happen before midnight.

Shortly before midnight, they get a message that Tsukumo Mitama was found dead in the bath, where she must have fallen and drowned. It is later ruled as an unfortunate accident.

The case is nowhere near to being over.

--

A month later, on February 19th, Saimon Akio dies due to electrocution when the water filter at the pond malfunctions killing him and all the fish he’s been taking care of. When the body is found, all the water in the pond is dyed red.

--

A month later, on March 19th, Saimon Chisato is found dead from blood loss after apparently cutting off her hand using the Arm Guillotine prop. It is noted that she has been suffering emotional instability from stress related to the Case.

--

A month later, on April 19th, Fujita Daisetsu collapses on his way home from the bar and is taken to the hospital, where he dies from alcohol poisoning.

--

None of the eight cases so far have been deemed suspicious by the police, all of them ruled as either death from natural causes, accidents or suicides. Nevertheless, this perfectly spaced string of cases can’t possibly be a natural occurrence.

Who is the target and who is targeting them?

Perhaps the next month will show us the Case’s another face—or should we say, a mask.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

#sparkly reads the saimon family case #maijo and jdc stuff #*me pointing at juku in the back* THERE HE IS

[rapperkookz]

Rush!BTΣ — college!au, borderline crack au w/ @cynoirsure 


a story about three friends and their obstacles of relationships, academic probation, and figuring out that international kids aren’t all that bad.


22/35


word count: 2.8K


genre: fluff 


warnings: swearing

 — 


Narrator’s POV

Seokjin squinted at his texts, reading them once more as he walked over to the music school. It was already kind of suspicious that Jinhee was out practicing late considering the girl never practices and only uses the practice rooms to get away from people. It was also weird that Yoongi opted to practice this late when Seokjin knew very well that he loved his sleep and his cat so he never made plans past 10 unless it was a Beta Tau party. After getting out of the elevator to the practice rooms, Seokjin pursed his lips, scanning his own ID in order to open the doors to the practice chambers. No one outside of the music major could have access to the practice rooms unless they were enrolled in a music course so Seokjin was thankful that he picked up that guitar class as a blowoff course for his last semester, although he could play guitar pretty well.

Seokjin walked through the halls of the practice rooms, his senses heightened. Given the fact that most of the practice rooms had no light on or there was someone packing up to leave, he felt that anyone could sneak up on him and scare the living daylights out of him. Seokjin sighed, reaching the dead end of the practice chambers. He still didn’t hear anything, the only sound that he had heard along the way was some low brass fudging through a Hank Mobley piece that’s played every year at the jazz showcase.

His nose crinkled. If his best friend and his line brother weren’t in the practice rooms, then where could they be? Something clicked in Seokjin’s head. Maybe they were back in Yoongi’s dorm doing god knows wh— Seokjin turned on heels, immediately beginning to make his way out of the practice chambers and over to the elevators in order to go barge into Yoongi’s dorm to catch them in the act. It wasn’t until he got to the elevators that he heard a whine coming from a classroom adjacent to the practice rooms.


“Yoongi, I tried! Stop clocking me for these small things!” Seokjin had never been so thankful that his soulmate was loud. He followed the younger’s voice to a nearby classroom, whatever creaking that would’ve been caused by the music school’s floors covered by the youngest’s protests. He looked through the patio-like glass doors to see his soulmate and his best friend in front of one of the whiteboards with a music staff on it, two different colored music notes written on it. The composition in blue was a lot more neat than the other one written in black, so he could point out Jinhee’s writing compared to Yoongi’s easily. It looked as if they were doing some macroanaylsis work for music theory, Yoongi testing Jinhee on her skills.


“I’m not being mean. You got this wrong, it’s a secondary dominant, not a major minor second inversion.” Yoongi put the correct answer on the board, Jinhee only crossing her arms and scrunching her face in a similar way to how Seokjin does when he’s fake upset. He could only tell the girl wasn’t upset since her soft eyes betrayed the rest of her seemingly upset expression. Yoongi clicked his tongue at the whiteboard, making a large circle around one of Jinhee’s notes. “Come on, Jinhee. You’re smarter than this, aren’t you? A careless mistake such as a parallel octave? That doesn’t even make sense for the next chord! You really just want the tenors to make that large jump don’t you? Their line doesn’t even move around all that much in the first place.”


“WELL TENORS DON’T DESERVE SHIT MIN YOONGI, BASSES ARE THE SUPERIOR RACE!” Jinhee exclaimed loudly, making Yoongi flinch at the way she suddenly raised her voice. Seokjin also jumped in the hallway just slightly, before he realized what Jinhee had said to him.  


“Wait Jinhee, isn’t Seokjin a tenor?” 


“And what about it? Seokjinie can suck my toes.” Yoongi scrunched his nose at this statement, tilting his head confusedly at how Jinhee had switched over from Korean to say that last sentence in English. “What? The sentence doesn’t translate right in Korean.” 


“… I guess so.” Was all Yoongi had to say back, going back to grading her analysis. “Well, luckily those were the only two mistakes this time around. Good job, Jinhee.” Yoongi patted her head, her expression brightening. 


“Oh thank god! Thank you so much for helping me out with this! I was super stumped on this for like the last few days and I have a quiz like, tomorrow on this.” Jinhee’s smile brightened, going in to hug him. Yoongi’s ears turned red, awkwardly patting her back when he noticed the clock. 


“Ah, it’s 11:30, we should get going soon, yeah?” Yoongi pulled away first (much to his own dismay, as well as Jinhee’s), the younger one turning to the clock and nodding. “Don’t want you being late to your 7AM.” Yoongi added on as an afterthought, making her laugh a little. 


“I mean, I don’t sleep anyways so I guess it’s fine?” Jinhee went over to her bag, shoving the manuscript staff paper back into her bag. She stilled for a quick second and Seokjin almost thought his cover was busted because she was looking out the classroom. He tried to look closer at her without revealing his spot, a blank stare in her eyes instead of one of intent. He exhaled silently, watching her pull out a repurposed Starbucks bag decorated with hand drawn cherry blossom petals and wrapped with a red ribbon. “Hey, Yoon…” Jinhee’s nickname for the pianist almost fell from her lips, “..gi?” Jinhee turned to the older man, her hands hiding the gift behind her back. 


Yoongi perked up from where his bag was, tilting his head. “Hm, what’s up, Jinhee?” Yoongi scanned her for anything weird, Jinhee walking towards him and tipping back and forth on her feet when she stopped far enough for Yoongi to still have personal space, but close enough that they only had a few steps before either one of them could collide into the other. Seokjin could see the telltale signs of nervousness written all over Jinhee, the youngest one turning a light shade of pink. 


“W-well, I just really wanted to thank you? For everything, at this point, but mostly the fact that you’ve been a really great accompanist and a great tutor for theory as well…” Jinhee reached up to run a hand through her hair, her other arm moving to show him the gift bag. “So I got you a little something?” 


Yoongi’s eyes widened, accepting the gift that was extended out to him. “It’s nothing, really, is it okay if I open it now?” With the confirmation of Jinhee in the form of a small nod, Yoongi peeked into the bag. Staring back at him were two highly sought after MIDI controllers, the OP-1 and the OP-Z in mint condition. His jaw dropped in shock, eyes going up to Jinhee and then back at the controllers. “How’d you know I wanted these two? Also, these cost a fortune, how’d you manage to buy these?” Yoongi picked up the bigger controller, shocked at the condition of it. 


Jinhee only smiled shyly, looking down. “Oh, I think I saw you talking about it on your Twitter the other day? Also my friend was selling them for ₩793,000 so I just bought it off of him.” Seokjin snorted inwardly at this statement, remembering how a few weeks ago, Jinhee lazily pulled out her black card and propped it up against her laptop, casually adding both devices to the online shopping cart while they were doing homework on the couch in his apartment.

 – 


“Seokjinie, is ordering both the OP-1 and OP-Z like… Overkill? Or should I just get one? I mean it’s only $2000 after shipping?” Jinhee bit her lip, looking up at Seokjin and then back at her screen. She threw her head back, laying on his lap and groaning. “God I mean… The OP-Z is like almost out of stock so it’s totally okay to get one, right? I’m gonna buy both.” Jinhee nodded, typing in her home address and her card number. 


Seokjin looked at her bewildered, mouth gaping like a fish. “Choi Jinhee, how much is that in KRW?” Seokjin watched as she pressed order, the younger one shrugging as she sat up to put her card away in her wallet. She hummed for a quick moment while putting her card away, looking over at him. 
“Uh, ₩2,267,760? Not that mu–” 


“Do not finish that sentence. Why are you spending so much money on equipment? You don’t even compose and you barely passed music tech.” Seokjin pointed accusingly, Jinhee only laughing uncomfortably. 


“O-oh… Haha um…” Jinhee stalled, but it was only a few seconds before Seokjin realized where he had heard of the equipment that Jinhee had just bought. 


“Jinhee. Did you buy all of that for Min Yoongi after seeing him tweet about wanting new equipment, specifically those two MIDI controllers this morning?” Seokjin shook his head. “Just confess to him and suck his dick already, you’re so whipped for him.” 


“Oh my god, shut UP Seokjinie!” Jinhee whined, covering her face in embarrassment. “Also please don’t tell him! I swear this is the only gift I’ve gotten for him! I swear I’m still a broke bit–” 


“Don’t lie, you literally just pulled out a black card??” 


“SEOKJIN, seriously! I will do anything for you to play along with this, please?” 
“Pay for my college debt and use honorifics around me all the time instead of whenever you want something from me, you brat.” Seokjin grinned, much to Jinhee’s dismay. She shut her laptop and placed it on the coffee table, groaning as she fell back into his lap. 


“I’m already kinda helping out with that first one, and the second one, over my dead body.”

 
– 


“This is seriously unbelievable, I could kiss you right now… Is that okay…? Can I kiss you?” 

Yoongi’s voice brought Seokjin back to reality, the question itself shocking both Seokjin and Jinhee. God, if this was how Yoongi confesses to Jinhee, Seokjin cringed a little. Yoongi had more class than that, right? Jinhee was silent for a little, her heart and mind racing with a million and one thoughts. She considered all the possible outcomes before deciding one kiss—with the person she’d been crushing on lowkey for almost 4 months—wouldn’t hurt. 


“I-I mean, sure?” Seokjin fumbled for his phone, checking about 5 times if his ringer was off before positioning the camera to point at the scene before him. In the classroom, Yoongi cupped Jinhee’s pink cheeks that almost matched her hair, leaning in for a small kiss that ended as quickly as it began. Seokjin was lucky enough to catch a picture, a quiet victory as he walked to the elevators to catch a ride down. He trusted that Yoongi could keep Jinhee in good company walking back to their dorms, so he just hummed softly to himself, riding the elevators down to go back to his apartment. 


“Do you wanna head back together, Jinhee? It’s late so…” Yoongi shrugged his backpack on, the singer shouldering the cross body bag. Jinhee shook her head.


“No no, it’s okay! I just remembered that I need to make copies for a class, you can go on ahead! Besides, if a creep comes up on me, I’ll just hit them with my hydroflask.” Jinhee grinned at Yoongi, holding up her water bottle. Yoongi only nodded almost skeptically, but knowing she wouldn’t budge, he reached for the door. 


“Okay, well text me when you get back to your dorm, yeah? See you later, Jinhee.” Yoongi nodded to her, earning a smile and wave from her as he opened the door. As soon as the door closed, Jinhee let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, pulling out her earbuds and picking a song to play while she walked along the lake walk for a little. 


“Ah, seriously, why does life have to be like this…” The girl made her way down with the elevator, walking along the lakefront. It wasn’t long before she spotted two familiar figures, a grin spreading on her lips before she lightly jogged over to them. “Tae! Kev!” 


The couple looked up at the pink haired girl walking over to them, wiggling in the process as she usually did when she saw someone she knew. “Oh? Miss Choi Jinhee? What are you doing out this late?” Kevin raised his eyebrow at his best friend. “You didn’t work tonight, did you?” 


“No, I was rehearsing with Yoon!” Jinhee smiled, but immediately regretted telling the two because they started wiggling their brows at her. “You two are gross and so mean to me! I’m gonna head back to my dorm so goodnight!! Have fun on your date or whatever!!” Jinhee immediately followed up, storming past the two. 


Kevin only laughed at her reaction, him and Taehyung walking past campus to the beach nearby. “Choi Jinhee is such a character, isn’t she?” Taehyung joked lightly, following Kevin to the rocks on the point of the beach.

The nights were getting warmer, signaling the end of the very long winter in Korea and the beginning of summer. Kevin helped Taehyung sit on the large rocks that loomed over the edge of the water, the water itself being at low tide so it barely touched either of the boys as they dangled their feet over the edge. Taehyung had gone silent after that, looking over the lake. He leaned into Kevin, sighing a little. 


“Kev, what are your plans for the future? I know we were talking it the other day, but I don’t think you ever got to answer before Jungkookie and y/n had their sexual tension bleeding into the group chat.” Taehyung joked a little, watching how the moon reflected over the lake. He closed his eyes, listening to his favorite sounds around him, the melodious sounds of the waves and the slow breathing of his boyfriend. Kevin hummed, his hand coming to play with one of Taehyung’s. 


“Me? I want to become an anesthesiologist.” Tae pouted a little, his eyes making contact w the younger one who was only smiling a little by telling his dreams to his boyfriend. 


“Is there space for me in your future, too?” Taehyung asked quietly, the hand that Kevin was playing with tensing for a slight moment. He stroked the bigger hand softly, smiling. 


“Of course, why wouldn’t there be?” Kevin’s other hand ran a finger through Taehyung’s hair, the boy falling silent in his arms. Kevin stopped, sitting up properly and sitting Taehyung up as well so that they were making eye contact. “Are you okay, Tae?” 


Taehyung was refusing to make eye contact with Kevin, which only made the younger one anxious. “… My parents are coming to visit in a few weeks and I want you to meet them.” Taehyung exhaled, finally making eye contact with Kevin. Kevin’s eyes widened a little in surprise, his mouth forming a little o. 
“Actually?” Kevin blinked, stroking Taehyung’s cheek. Taehyung nodded, leaning into Kevin’s touch with a little pout. 


“They don’t really know that I’m out yet, but I mean… They love me so much and maybe if I show them how happy I am with you and that it’s not just an act, they won’t be disproving of me being bi…? You know how Asian parents are, and it doesn’t change even if I’m from overseas and from Paris, the biggest LGBT+ community in Europe. I’m just scared they won’t accept that I like boys as well as girls…” Taehyung’s eyes became distant once more, the worry evident in his face which only made Kevin frown. Kevin leaned in to leave two kisses on the apples of Taehyung’s cheeks, which brought him back to meet Kevin’s eyes. 


“Don’t be scared, okay? I’d love to meet your parents, if they’re as lovely as you tell me they are.” Kevin smiled, stroking Taehyung’s cheek where he had just kissed it. The two fell into silence, one that didn’t seem awkward or stiff. Taehyung rearranged himself, pulling away from Kevin’s endearing hold. His knees awkwardly bumped into Kevin’s before he reverted back into his old position of sitting inbetween Kevin’s legs, leaning back into his chest. 


“… Thank you for loving me, Kev.” Taehyung’s gratitude was quiet, but didn’t go unnoticed by Kevin. The younger one could only smile, his hands that were once at Taehyung’s side supporting him tilting Taehyung’s head to the side so he could dip down and kiss his temple. 


“I love you, you know that? You mean the world to me.” Kevin stifled a yawn, swaying the older one in his arms. “I think we should start heading back, yeah? It’s late.”

Taehyung nodded, swinging his feet over so that he was leaning towards land, his feet landing in the soft sand. Kevin landed right beside him, extending his hand to Taehyung. The older one’s hand slid comfortably into Kevin’s, the both of them gently swinging their arms while they headed back to their dorm. 


4-15-19

#rush!bts au #bts #collab #bts college au #bangtan boys #bangtan #beyond the scene #bts au #bts snaps #bts edits #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jung jungkook #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #namjoon #hoseok #yoongi #seokjin #jin #suga #jhope #v #rm

[bungou-stray-dogs-indulgences]

Hello! I'd like to request headcanons for Dazai when his s/o accidentally calls him by his given name for the first time please. You're an amazing author!

Awww thank you dear!! 💖

Dazai Osamu

Does Dazai hear you when his given name first slips out of your lips? Absolutely. Where’s the fun in letting you off that easy, though? Shit-eating grin splitting his face, Dazai drops whatever he’s doing to sidle up next to you. One arm winds around your shoulders, his other hand cupping his ear. 

“What was that?” Dazai prods, raising an eyebrow. If you refuse to repeat yourself he immediately morphs into a whiny two year old. Dazai gets right in your face, smirk never fading. “I know you said something,” he teases, poking you. The longer you resist the more annoying he gets; soon he’s practically hanging off you, limbs tangling through yours as he whines a constant stream of “what did you say what did you say what did you say” right in your ear. He keeps poking at you until you finally give in.

“Ah, it sounds so lovely when it’s coming from your lips,” Dazai sighs, barely holding back a swoon as his arms wrap around your shoulders. “Say it again? Please?” This time he asks perfectly sweetly, pressing his lips lightly against the back of your neck. Every time you whisper “Osamu” in a sing-song voice just for him Dazai rewards you with a playful feather light kiss, speckled on your neck as his fingers gently draw patterns across your stomach.

If you haven’t moved past the honorifics stage yet, this is the moment Dazai officially abandons formal titles. By no means does this equal him using your given name, though; from now on, he coins a cute nickname for you (if he hasn’t already). Most of the time he simply calls you by your nickname, though he’ll let your given name grace his lips occasionally.

Dazai doesn’t particularly care which name you call him, but if he feels like being difficult, he only responds to ‘Osamu’. Whether he’s throwing a mini-tantrum in the grocery store because you won’t let him spend half his paycheck on snow crab, playfully giving you the cold shoulder, or toying with you during a roll around the sheets, be prepared to break out his name sometimes to coax him back in line. Naturally, whatever Dazai can use to tease you, he will; now that he knows you’re comfortable throwing around his given name, it’s just another weapon in his arsenal.

Dazai’s favorite place to hear his given name is in the bedroom. Usually he doesn’t care whether you use ‘Dazai’ or ‘Osamu’, but when he’s got you naked and writhing underneath him, his personal name is music to his ears. Moan a steamy Osamu while his mouth is working magic between your thighs and he’s instantly twice as hard. Something about the fact that it’s so personal gets under his skin—you know him inside and out (as much as he lets you, at least), so much better than all the quick fucks he’s had before.

#Bungou Stray Dogs Imagines #Dazai #Dazai Osamu #Bungou Stray Dogs Headcanons #BSD Headcanons #Anonymous

[aceprosecuties]

So I've been really sick lately, and I was thinking about some sick day Blackmadhi. Like Simon doesn't hear from Nahyuta for a while and is worried but turns out he's sick with an especially bad flu. Simon immediately flys out to him in Khurain, to find him bedridden and really ill and sore. He's still infuriatingly pretty to Simon even when he's coughing, has a running nose, has to stick his head into a bin to throw up every hour but maybe that's the love talking. Que fussy boyfriend Simon

Ah,oh no!  I feel like so many people aresick lately and I hope you and everyone else gets better!  In case you’re interested, I did write aBlackmadhi sickficlet thing here, with sick Simon, so I’m glad you asked forthe other way around!  I hope you gethealthy again soon lovie

-----

Simon’sleg was bouncing rather uncontrollably while he tried to focus on the papers infront of him on his desk.  He kepttapping his pen on the wood, periodically checking his phone to see if Nahyutahad finally gotten back to him.  It hadbeen a few days now, and Simon hadn’t stopped worrying, which had culminated inhim being even more hostile towards everyone who dared speak to him.  At one point yesterday, Debeste had asked hima rather stupid question, and Simon had scared him to the point of tears,leading to a harsh scolding from his boss.

Nahyutahad said he was feeling a bit under the weather the last he spoke with him, andof course with every day that went by without any contact, Simon startedfearing that what Nahyuta had originally believed was just a minor illness wasactually something major.  What if he wasin the hospital?  Simon didn’t trustNahyuta’s advisers to let him rest when he needed to…what if they overworkedhim too much that he collapsed?

Many ofthe scenarios that Simon thought of were a bit far-fetched, but evenrecognizing that did little to alleviate his fears.  Soon…he caved.  He marched to Gavin’s office and banged onthe door, not even waiting for an answer before barging in.  Klavier was sitting on his ridiculous chair,and jumped a bit when his frightening coworker was suddenly barreling towardshim.

(this got longgg)

“HerrBlackquill!  What are you-”

“Silence, Gavin-dono.  I need you to give me Justice-dono’s phonenumber.  I know you have it.”

Klavierraised one of his eyebrows in curiosity and confusion.  “First off, Herr Blackquill, yelling atsomeone and then demanding a favor from that someone usually doesn’t lead tomuch success.  Secondly…why do you wantForehead’s number?  Since when did youand Forehead suddenly become close friends?”

Right…Klavierdidn’t know about Simon’s relationship with Nahyuta.  He had his inklings, but Simon neverconfirmed anything, much to his frustration. Simon growled, because Klavier suddenly had a large smug smile on hisface.

“Justgive me the number, Gavin-dono.”

“Itwould be highly irresponsible of meto just give our Forehead’s number to anyone who asks for it.  I need a good reason.”

“Ineed his advice on a case.”

“That’sthe worst lie you’ve ever told, HerrBlackquill.”  Klavier started lookingthrough his phone, humming some obnoxious tune while Simon fantasized aboutthrottling the man.  “Maybe…it isn’t Forehead that you wish to speakwith?”

“I do want to speak with him.”

“Aboutwhat? Or rather…about whom?”

Simongrowled again, but he knew he wasn’t about to intimidate Klavier into givinghim the number.  Not while Klavier lookedas arrogant as he currently did.  Hequickly thought about it, but his fears about Nahyuta’s well-being quicklyovercame his desire to not give Klavier Gavin what he wanted.  

“Fine, Gavin-dono, you win.  I want to call Justice-dono aboutNahyuta.  He’s been out of contact and Ijust want to make sure he is okay.”

“AboutHerr Sahdmadhi?  Now why would you care about him?”

“You’retreading on very thin ice, Gavin,” Simon snapped, deliberately omitting thehonorific.  But it did not faze Klavier,who just threw his hands behind his head. Simon could feel his eye twitch.  “Nahyutaand I have been seeing each other, alright? Now give me that number.”

“I knew it,” Klavier shouted, standing upin his excitement.  “I want to know-”

“Not right now,” Simon interrupted.  “Just-”

“Ja, ja. Here,” Klavier said, while texting Apollo’s number to Simon.  Once Simon heard his phone’s text alertsound, he was spinning on his heels and walking out the door, dialingApollo.  He heard Klavier shout out asarcastic “you’re welcome,” but he ignored it in favor of focusing on theringing tone coming through his speaker.

Apolloanswered, sounding somewhat hesitant. Probably because it was a number he didn’t recognize aside from thecountry and area codes.  Simon didn’tcare, though.  

“Justice-dono!”

“P-ProsecutorBlackquill?  Is that you?”

“Yes,I must ask you something.”  Simon ignoredApollo’s confused stammering and just continued.  “Your brother.  What is going on with him?”

“WithNahyuta?  Why…do you ask?”

“Justanswer the question, Justice-dono!”

“H-He’sbeen basically quarantined in the palace with a nasty flu.  Rayfa told me that he hasn’t been allowed anycommunication devices in order to speed up his recovery…though I don’t understandhow that would help at all.”

“…Isee.  Thank you, Justice-dono.”

Withoutbothering to wait for Apollo to say goodbye, Simon hung up.

Hebought the first plane ticket to Khura’in, leaving the next morning.

-----

Itwas obnoxious trying to get the people at the Khura’inese palace to let himthrough, but luckily, he was able to get Rayfa’s assistance in wearing down theguards and advisers.  He had to promiseher a few favors, but to see Nahyuta, it was all worth it.  Between the crown princess and the king-regent’sterrifying consort demanding that Simon be able to see Nahyuta, no one stood achance.

Simonran to Nahyuta’s room and had to stop himself from bursting loudly through thedouble doors.  He didn’t want to overlystartle Nahyuta, and so he decided to take a deep breath before slowly turningthe handle.

Itwas quite cold in the room; the temperature seemed to drop by a few degreeswhen Simon stepped in.  Nahyuta wassprawled out on his bed; his hair did not have its signature shine, and was notin its usual braid.  The monk triedsitting up a little bit when he heard an intruder, about to demand who wasdisturbing him, but even trying to sit up hurtso many of his muscles.  And, of course,the movement must have troubled something in him because he was coughinguncontrollably for a moment without even having recognized who was standing inhis doorway.  That coughing made hisstomach churn and it took no time before he was off the side of his bed,vomiting into the bucket that had been placed there.

SeeingNahyuta like that spurred Simon to rush over to the monk’s side, sitting nextto him and holding his lavender hair back and away from his face.  It took a few long moments before Nahyutafelt alright enough to sit back again, and he fell right into his pillows as helooked up to see Simon watching over him.

Hesmiled.  Despite his illness making hisskin pale and his hair dull and his nose runny…it was beautiful.  Simon moved some wayward lilac strands fromNahyuta’s sweat-soaked face.  Even thoughit was cold in the room, Nahyuta was hot to the touch.  

“Mypanda…what are you doing here?”  Nahyuta’svoice was raspy and hoarse, so Simon didn’t even scold him for the use of thenickname.  Instead, he just kissedNahyuta’s hand, lacing their fingers together tightly.  

“I…hadn’theard from you.  I was…concerned.”

“Heh…youoverreact, Simon.  I’m-”

“You’renot fine, clearly, so don’t say it.”

Nahyutalaughed a bit, though those laughs transformed into coughs pretty quickly.  

“Ijust wish our reunion could have been under better circumstances.  I know I don’t exactly look great right now.”

“You’rebeautiful.”  The words left Simon’s mouthwithout him really thinking about it.  

“Youdon’t need to flatter me, Panda.  I can’timagine that I’m very appealing to see right now, what with the sweat and thevomiting and everything.”  More coughsinterrupted some of his words, and he thought for a moment that he was going tobe sick again.  Luckily, however, he wasable to keep it down.

“Imean it, Nahyuta.  Frankly, it isannoying.  How gorgeous you are, evenwhile being this ill,” Simon said.  Hethought for a second, wondering if he should continue.  “…Maybe it is just the love blinding me toany of your physical ailments.”

Nahyutablinked a few times…allowing Simon’s words to sink in.  Despite how moving any of his limbs wassomewhat painful due to how sore his body was, he lifted his hand to Simon’sface, cupping one of his cheeks.  “I loveyou too Simon.  Thank you for coming allthe way here just to see me.”

Simon’sface heated up a little bit.  “Yeah well…likeI said, I was worried.  I don’t trustyour advisers to treat you well enough, so I figured I would have to come overand do it myself.  Have they been givingyou the appropriate medicine?  Been washingyour sheets?  Making sure you get enoughwater and stay hydrated?”  

“I was quarantined to make sure no one elsecaught this, so my contact with others has been minimal,” Nahyuta spurted out,groaning as he lifted his hand to his head – this headache was unbearable.  “You probably ought to leave too.  Wouldn’t want my panda to get sick because ofme.”

“Silence.”  Although Simon said his catchphrase, it wasfar less malicious or harsh than how he normally would say it.  “I didn’t come all the way here just to sitoutside your door while you suffer alone.” He surveyed the room; he could definitely clean some and then maybe getsome clean blankets and clothes for Nahyuta…it wasn’t good for him to just stayin the same stuff for so long.  “I’ll goget you some water.”  And, while he wasat it, Simon would have a few choice words with Nahyuta’s main advisersexpressing his distaste for how poorly they had taken care of theirregent.  

Hestood, but before he went to leave, he leaned over and kissed Nahyuta’sforehead.  The monk smiled, and for amoment, didn’t feel as ill as he did before.          

#ace attorney #blackmadhi #simon blackquill #nahyuta sahdmadhi #klavier gavin #blackmadhi asks #prosecuting boyfriends #sickfic #I'm so glad I was able to write sick nahyuta and sick simon within days of each other #also feel better love!!! #I hope this helps a little bit! #sorry if it peeters out towards the end I wanted to write more but I faded out and wanted to get something done for you! #<3 #my writings #psiioniichearts #allie answers

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S LEAD RAP BAN  JISUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): jiji, cat dad, face genius INSPIRATION: the hip hop legend himself, tiger jk. SPECIAL TALENTS:

beatboxing.

solve a rubiks cube in under 30 seconds.

remain unflinching during “don’t laugh” challenges.

NOTABLE FACTS:

mom and dad are reputable journalists living abroad.

is an only child.

can play the piano and drums.

owner of a one year old maine coon kitten named piper.

turned down an admission to nyu in order to become an idol. 

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

keep working, pushing forward, pulling his weight. idol contracts are temporary, but the grind is forever. they’ve made it despite the odds, and he’s wholly focused on having that ball stay rolling. a nifty name brand deal (or three) would be nice to end the year, but he’s not picky.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

do everything, leave nothing–establish himself as the go-to brand face, dabble in acting, put out a solo (though given msg’s track record, he’ll give himself another couple of years before giving it a chance), establish some sort of music collective a decade down the line, roll around in CF money for the rest of his days to come.

IDOL IMAGE

outer

actor face, model proportions, nobody rapper. the weight of the last moniker is the card that knocks it all off balance, locks him (them) into this seemingly never-ending cycle of shoddy luck, until that survival show miraculously turned the tides for the better. before that, he’s the dissonance that msg likes to play off of–softer visuals of his sort don’t scream “rapper,” but that’s precisely the point.

with this wave of newfound fame now, he’s this: actor face, model proportions, indigo’s lead rapper; now with a more extensive list of footnotes tacked to each label following his name. there’s still a lot of focus on how he looks, surface-level perfection that plays off a criss-cross of intimidating and downright ethereal, a physical symmetry that at times (even on the account of the most grainy, pixelated fantaken shots) is difficult to fathom whole. it’s enough to gain him some traction in advertising, something the company has pushed and he’s complied with wholeheartedly.

the rule of thumb? stay aware of your image, but never fail to be humble–being projected to the same spew of lovely compliments on loop of course makes this awfully easy. they want him to be relatable, down to earth. another trick with contrast that’s enough to entertain the masses and gain empathy. jisung’s own personal touch being to never cross the threshold into straight up delusional territory (exhibit a: attitude controversies? what the fuck are you smoking? exhibit b: saying they don’t need girlfriends when they’ve got their fans? no thank you.).

the same philosophy is applied when it comes to his place among the boys–give credit where its due and be thankful for what’s given and got. anything that goes above and beyond and enters peak uncharacteristic excessive tomfoolery? then on god, he’s gotta be the one that’s smoking mad.

inner

his single crime is having a backbone. a human spine can only take so much pressure before it snaps under the weight of the unimaginable. humiliation stings (they’re nothing, were nothing), sure, but there’s a reason why language exists. the pen’s mightier than the sword for a reason, and a mouth that knows how to strike someone numb than the slap of a palm works the same way. it’s not loyalty here, but merely an honest defense of everything that has his name associated with it. in the past, he’d been notorious for it–particularly in the wake of senior groups who don’t know when to can it, like they’re not only on top because fortune favors the fucked up and vice versa. the truth hurts, and the only thing that’s changed in the name of it is that he now has ground that is more solid than it’s ever been before if he’s to take the fall. evolutionary tactics for the sake of survival. it’s that simple.

IDOL HISTORY

baggage? pass. any brand of mommy-daddy issues or familial dysfunction both nuclear or extended? forget about it. there’s absence, but in a world this big, who doesn’t want some negative space in their lives? brooklyn is being pushed and pushed til it spills over, and he’s caught in the flood. childlike wonder keeps him distracted most days–that, and a schedule of extracurriculars that has him up and running. life moves by the rhythmic click-clack of the L, the school bell ringing for every hour, and earbuds glued in on his way to baseball practice. the blueprint, epmd’s strictly business, odds and ends of music mixes and archives he clicks through, building up a little world of rat-tat and snares.

there’s a meaningfulness to it, a to-the-point truth, the same sort that his parents jot down or announce through television screens. he takes to it like breathing, and from then on it’s kind of all-consuming. experimenting with different sounds, moods, flows–ranging from embarrassingly bad efforts to perfectly decent with some polish.

opportunity knocks after junior year. the rare trip to seoul to visit his grandparents turns to an msg talent scout handing him a card for consideration. if there’s anything to be thankful for, it’s that he’d sprouted like a beanstalk the summer before–paired with him growing quite nicely into his features, there’s a chance here. and with passing auditions, it expands. jisung weighs the percentages in his head, a high school diploma versus the paper-thin degrees of (possible) fame and affluence. his parents look at him as if to say with their eyes, god, seventeen years, and only to raise atall dumbass?

the prideful creature that he is, jisung doesn’t know how that could be possible. it’s only when the trainee days hit that he realizes with silent horror that oh. they might’ve had a point.

being familiar with singing and rapping gives him a leg-up in evaluations, all for that to be for naught the second they have to learn how to dance. it’s probably the first time having legs this long and inflexible nearly screws him over, but that’s where fake it ‘til you make it is exceptionally handy.

it all ends sooner than anticipated, anyway (like all fever dreams do, you could suppose). a year and then some, and he’s slotted for msg’s upcoming boy group. they’re multifaceted and (for the most part) interesting. neither of these qualities, jisung also comes to understand, mean shit. but he clings anyway, because there’s that so-called “meaningfulness” to it that might as well be the proverbial titanic in the face of the iceberg called public opinion. and if there’s nothing else going for him, face and body aside, he’s got a nose for smelling out bullshit, and jisung knows, this is anything but. jumping ship isn’t happening anytime soon.

they keep releasing songs, performing, and releasing more songs, rinse, repeat ad nauseam. hope is a thing with feathers, except those feathers are molting real fast for some of them. the years drag on, the calls from his parents offering to terminate that damned contract once and for all more tempting by the minute. but he’s a twenty-something by now, and with it the buddings of adult responsibility. emphasis on buddings, because as far as the msg execs are concerned, he’s not doing anything along the lines of responsible.

case in point: what he says, or rather, does. his transparency is a double-edged sword, simultaneously refreshing and well, sharp. not in the way that they like, and especially when he uses it against (senior) industry mates taking the liberties to drag their lack of reputation through filth. pity is the last thing desired, but there’s something about soon to be has-beens themselves picking on small fry that doesn’t sit well with him. so (allegedly) ignoring such folks on broadcast to forgoing the honorifics with a drop of the hat, no doubt it’ll get the rumor mill running. it’s not until the public eye starts zeroing in on an apparent pattern of him not bowing to other acts on stage does msg bring the hammer down–reflecting the obvious resort, but the reminder-slash-warning of the heavier consequences if he’s not careful.

but by then, he’s a different kind of desperate as is. re:group is taken to like a second chance, fever dream-like training sessions that feel like deja vu and all. three years in, and dignity be damned. he’s grateful for the chance. exposure feels both like a second skin and a novelty, fits him glove-sleek in spite of not lasting there all that long, let alone making it to the final cut. it’s enough of a catalyst, enough of tiny, tiny nudge to skyrocket them into an overnight success.

compromise, along with this “nothing to something” narrative, makes for a winning combination. it no longer becomes a matter of being talented but being marketable. the love calls begin soon after, and so starts the growing repertoire in endorsement deals and magazine spreads, and he’s looking to expand his horizons a little further. he’d been here solely for the music from the start, and always will be, but in the face of a changing sound (which he privately wishes wasn’t so piano-driven now, but hey, money talks), there’s something oddly relieving in filling a different path to success that is hard to deny.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.cha eunwoo