#the bad relationship with male family members

[space-writes]

for the space asks: saturn, full moon!

for the space ask game

hi fox, ty for the ask!!

🪐 Saturn - What do your characters think about marriage? Are any of them married?

none of the main RP cast are married. most of them don’t really think about it/aren’t super invested in the idea of it.

Zander’s the ‘never tie me down’ type. Aliyne’s dreaming of financial stability not a long-term partner. Leshanna’s too busy trying to figure out Who She Is.

Quest I’ve been thinking lately is more on the ace/aro spectrum, and would be more happy with just being in a Zashi clan unattached but part of a big family with lots of friends. I think they like the idea of marriage as something fun that other people do, though. And any ceremony that involves a party they’d be into.

Lucian…I want to say Lucian is exactly the Tower Prince who has dreamed of getting swept off his feet into marriage by a handsome man, but has never really considered the idea as an option in reality for him.

Vren is disillusioned with the entire concept. His mothers had a terrible marriage, why would he want to subject himself to that? Tie yourself to someone who’ll only end up hating you? No thanks.

Sorrow is more enamoured of the idea of having partners who love him that are fun to be with. Marriage is fun, probably, but being tied down makes him a bit itchy. Hmm, I’m thinking now that I want to poke at Zashi ideals of marriage and what that means to them as a culture, especially with how poly and queerplatonic their relationship standards are.

🌕 Full moon - Do you write symbolism into your story? What does it represent?

I don’t know if I do it on purpose, but I do like to find little themes and motifs and repeat them/use them to show character or world things. There aren’t any Big Major Symbolism Things in Valloroth though, because it’s my fun silly fantasy world that really isn’t that deep.

#writeblr #ask games #space ask game #valloroth blogging #c: lucian #c: sorrow #c: aliyne #c: zander #c: quest #c: vren #c: leshanna #i think zashi marriages are more like loose agreements than big serious commitments #fun fact: mohaadi marriages are mostly between two women! #and if they can't concieve without one they'll have a male as a third who's normally considered an important part of the family #bit like drow consorts where he's not a husband per se but is a valued family member #but vren's mothers were pretty terrible. bad relationship all round #there's a reason he joined the zarahmin

[readychilledwine]

His, Yours, Mine

Summary - Finding out you were pregnant should have been the best news. It's too bad you don't know which of your three mates is possibly the father, though.

Prompt - Day 3 - Secrets

Warnings - slightly hidden pregnancy trope, pregnancy, being put in a protective bubble, alcohol mentioned, slightly angsty but I know some of you are hurting from all the angst going around so it turns to Fluff quickly.

A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 3! I almost turned this into a Lucien x Reader x Tamlin fic before I decided to keep it with the batboys to include Starfall. There is still an urge to make a Spring Court Trouple version of this, though, so let me know. Also, I included how I imagined Rhysand discovering Feyre's pregnancy went. As much as I hate the storyline, I can see him being so emotional over a baby

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

Madja held your hand in hers as you cried. You cried from joy, from frustration, from shock, from sadness. This should have been the happiest news of your long life, but you found yourself more confused than anything.

“It is a blessing from the Mother, y/n.” She ran a hand along your cheek, “They will be overjoyed.”

The laugh you let out was bitter. “I can't even tell them who the father is.”

“Does it matter in this type of relationship? All of them will be happy. They all want a family with you, together."

To you, it mattered. It mattered so deeply that two weeks into knowing, you still had your scent glamored when your mates were home, hiding the babe from them until you thought of the perfect thing to say.

Guilt had started eating at you as you pulled away from them, lying about stress from the new play you were asked to write the symphony for. Azriel so desperately wanted a family, even if he would not admit it, and was willing to wait until after you had given his brothers their babies. Cassian wanted a daughter more than he wanted food some days. He spoke about it constantly, about how he would braid her hair and purchase her beautiful dresses. Rhys wanted every baby you two passed on the street, always stopping to say hello and get to hold the smallest members of his court. He said it was practice for when you would bless him. Son or daughter, it did not matter to him.

You felt like this was bound to disappoint two of them, a babe, but not theirs. You signed as you continued putting away the sheet music you had been composing on. "What are we going to do, little one?" You placed a hand on your stomach.

You were home alone, magic completely dropped, and so deep into organizing your next big composition, you had not noticed Rhys walking in with two glasses of champagne until they had long shattered on the floor.

“Baby,” he whispered. He fell to his knees before you, hands gripping your hips gently as his forehead rested against your lower stomach. “Baby.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him, basking in the joy he was sending so deep down the bond that your other two mates appeared. Cassian, always with weapons in hand, dropped them instantly. He didn't even care as they joined the scatter glass and champagne on the floor. He was at your and Rhysand's side instantly, kissing you deeply before kneeling next to Rhys and kissing the side of you stomach. Azriel had frozen, eyes wide and staring at you. “You're sure?”

All Rhys could do was nod, whispering again, “Baby. We're having a baby."

Dinner was a celebration just the four of you. The males all too happily planning out a nursery. You pushed the food around your plate, feeling too guilty to enjoy the meal Cassian had made you all. “Y/n, what's wrong?” Azriel pulled you to him. “Is it the babe? Do you need to lay down?”

You felt tears begin to fall as the guilt consumed you. “I don't know which one of you is the father.”

You waited. Waited for the 3 of them to fight, to lay claim to the babe, but Cassian and Rhys just both looked at Azriel and then you. “It is technically Azriel's,” the High Lord spoke slowly. “You smell like him. But it is also mine. Also, Cassian's. The babe is ours. We all are it's father.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart,” Cassian took your hand. “We knew once this bond happened, there was a chance you would get pregnant, and we wouldn't know who fathered the baby until the scent kicked in.. We do not want to be fathers, though. We want to be dads. We love you and the little babe, regardless of you smelling like Azriel.”

Azriel was nuzzled into you. “We accepted a long time ago that everything you got pregnant, you would smell like only one of us, and that one of us would get more protective.” He kept scenting you. “I would have been happy if it was Rhysand's or Cassian's.”

Rhysand finally spoke again. “A babe is always a means for Celebration as well.” You groaned. “I am thinking of an announcement at Starfall? With all of our family there?”

“That's only 2 weeks for me to plan and put something together.” You were used to Rhysand giving you short deadlines for things involving your family, the rest of the Inner Circle, and the Court of Nightmares, but for all of Velaris? You held those events to such high standards, and had since Rhysand asked you to take over that duty as High Lady.

“You could keep it simple this time?” You turned slowly to Cassian, glaring as he put his hands up in surrender. “Or not. Murder hormones kicked in today. Noted."

And “simple” had no place in the description of what you had done. You had made the choice to have the Rainbow opened to the celebration, watching as guests admired every faelight enchanted to twinkle like the stars themselves, watching as every guest took their turns on the dance floor you had put temporarily into the center of the large open theater. Rhys had allowed you to spare no expense. Vendors had made countless cakes and treats, food was plenty, drinks were pouring, and the orchestra played lively music.

You were shielded in the magic bubble all three males had demanded you be put in, but it wasn't enough for Azriel, who hung behind you like a constant threat even in his finest dress clothing.

Your own dress showed the smallest curve where your child was growing, causing every guest who greeted you and High Lord to pass their congratulations unknowing of the circumstances. “Won't they all shit when they figure out Az put a baby in you first?” You slammed an elbow into Cassian's stomach, smiling at an elderly couple as they held Rhysand's hands, praising him for bringing the city all together to celebrate a Night Court tradition and such a joyous announcement.

“We are just getting some of them okay with the idea of all of us as a mated unit. Let's not cause any heart attacks, Cassian.” He nodded to your statement and held a water glass to your mouth.

“Going to be a long night, sweetheart. Let's stay hydrated.”

The music switched to a soft violin based turn, one you had composed as Starfall began. Azriel held you close as everyone's attention turned to the sky, including yours. All three of your mates had their eyes locked on you, soft smiles on their faces as they watched the childlike wonder wash over you despite years of witnessing the event. “Always so beautiful.”

“Of course you are,” Azriel whispered. “And you will look even more beautiful when you begin to show more.”

“I can't wait,” Rhysand's hand went to that small bump, “To hold our babe.”

Cassian's hand rested on Rhysand. “Our baby. The first of many.”

“We would toast you, darling, but no champagne for you,” Rhysand handed a glass to Cass and Az, then water to you. “Darling?”

“To the stars who listen,” your voice broke as tears of joy came.

“And the dreams that are answered,” they all echoed.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #poly!batboys #poly!acotar #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly!acotarweek 2024 d3 #poly!batboys x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #polyamorous visibility #consensual non monogamy

[toruro]

— ✧ isohel

i·so·hel (noun) a line on a map connecting points having the same duration of sunshine

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. fairytales can be rather misleading, can't they? when you and your mother are ripped away from your life at the castle, you spend over a decade resenting the royalty. so naturally, when you find prince joshua at your doorstep, you’re more than eager to shut the door on him. but as your life takes twists and turns, you happen to find yourself in the arms of a man you never thought you'd have to see again.

genre. slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff

tags. prince!joshua, developing relationships, slut shaming, allusions / references to greek mythology, dialogue heavy, implied se

fic playlist

w/c. 26.2k

a/n. lwk don't like the beginning but i swear it gets better🙄 thank u @cheolhub for beta reading & @jeonghantis & @gyuswhore for reading it over and helping out w this bc i think i was going insane over this story by myself >_<; ... i highly suggest listening to the song isohel by eden! it was a major inspiration for this whole story and i think it encapsulates the vibes really well c: hope u enjoy!

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.���

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back. 

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

find an alternate ending here!

edit. thanks 4 making it this far! if ur interested i expand on the concept of an isohel more here and little tidbits here, and it's honestly just a ramble but i hope it makes clear why i made some decisions w the story if ur interested :3 a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

taglist. @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @whippedforjihoon @nishloves @woozarts (strikethrough could not be tagged)

#joshua hong #seventeen joshua #hong jisoo #hong jisoo xreader #hong jisoo x reader #joshua x you #joshua x reader #seventeen imagines #joshua #joshua hong angst #joshua hong fanfic #joshua hong fluff #hong joshua x reader #hong joshua #hong joshua smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop angst #svt fanfic #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #kpop #📝 writing #isohel

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Moon-Ascendant Aspects and Moon-Midheaven Aspects 🥺

MOON conjunct, square, opposite, sextile or trine ASCENDANT

🌙 Their feelings and reactions are written all over their face, to a degree that may be embarrassing, at times. Like "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to feel that out loud"

🌙 Either acts exactly like their mother OR their behavior (and life path, as a whole) is a direct contrast to her and her life choices

🌙 Soft features, soft skin, soft lips. Stays moisturized and hydrated (most of them actually do drink tons of water)

🌙 When their guard is down, people ADORE them. They are so warm and inviting and real. Their energy can really be disarming and make people feel safe. They also have the potential to come across as rather cold but this is only when they aren't feeling safe or are being shy

🌙 Maintain the eating habits of a child well into adulthood. They may be addicted to candy or sweets, be ridiculously picky eaters or be able to eat whatever they want and not gain weight

🌙 Those with these aspects are HIGHLY intuitive. They always trust their intuition and its accuracy, even if it makes them look crazy or irrational to others. And they're usually proven right

🌙 They have an aura of femininity, whether male or female. They are very motherly, kind, supportive and vulnerable. But, they also can be very fierce when protecting others or themselves

🌙 Those with the square can be super-defensive and overly self-protective, most likely due to childhood trauma. But, when they work through those insecurities, they radiate a very healing energy

🌙 Their look or aesthetic can definitely go through "phases", like the Moon. It depends a lot on their mood or what they're going through

🌙 Having the opposition can attract a mate (or close friend) who is either emotionally draining and demanding or who is also a caregiver and allows you to be nurtured for once

🌙 Trying to be "perfect" really does not suit them. They're too complicated for that. These people come off best when they let themselves be authentic and natural and a little messy, behavior-wise

🌙 Children and animals gravitate to them and their nurturing ways like magnets. Most of them really, really yearn to be a parent from an early age. Those with the conjunction probably experience the biggest "before and after" effect once they have children

MOON conjunct, square, opposite, sextile or trine MIDHEAVEN

🍭 Could be most successful in: the culinary industry, restaurant or fast food, nursing, counseling, the arts/entertainment, childcare, social work, real estate or anything involving working from home

🍭 Very susceptible to burnout. People with these aspects need to make sure they are checking in with themselves and not sacrificing self-care for their job. "Hustle culture" becomes their enemy if they get too caught up in it

🍭It is also crucial that their line of work fulfills them emotionally. They CANNOT just work simply for a paycheck. It will make them miserable and not take them very far anyway

🍭 Having the conjunction can make your public image go either way. People will either think you're SO adorable and cuddly and nice or they'll think you're really crazy or wild or unhinged. You also could be seen as both, at different points

🍭A lot of artists or performers have this influence because it makes it easy for them to emotionally move people through their work. They will have people in their feelings!

🍭 Might end up working alongside family members, especially their mother. They could also follow in her footsteps or achieve the goals she always wanted to achieve but never got to

Speaking of the mom, the quality of your relationship will become public knowledge. If it's good, she'll be seen as really lovely and your biggest supporter. If it's bad, well, then a lot of drama could play out publicly

🍭 You could get picked on a lot by detractors but you will also have highly protective fans/followers who are ready to go to war for you. (Famous people with these aspects are often known for having "crazy" fans who others don't want to piss off or get entangled with)

🍭Those with the square or opposition tend to struggle to strike a balance between being accessible to the public and keeping aspects of their personal life to themselves

🍭Their intuition will be their greatest asset in terms of business deals and decisions

🍭 Women or feminine individuals with these aspects typically don't get as much respect until they're in their 30's or 40's. They kind of need to enter that "mother" phase, in the slang use of the word, where they are seen as this strong, mature feminine force that others want to emulate or look to for guidance

🍭 Straight men with this influence often brand themselves as The Wife Guy, becoming adored because how much they seem to love or respect their wife or girlfriend

🍭If and when these individuals have kids, the public can look at them in a newly positive light. Their children can also become equally renowned, in their own right, alongside them

#astrology #astro notes #astrology observations #moon ascendant aspects #moon midheaven aspects #moon conjunct ascendant #moon conjunct midheaven #moon square ascendant #moon square midheaven #moon opposite ascendant #moon opposite midheaven #moon sextile ascendant #moon trine ascendant #moon sextile midheaven #moon trine midheaven #moon aspects

[sarabyfleetwoodmacmp3]

💭

#the way living with my brothers has fr traumatized me #like im so afraid that men are just like that and im never gonna meet a guy that’s nice and clean and good #like i fear it has actually affected my vision or relationship with men add to that daddy issues that btw– #my doctor has brought up twice #like she essentially has diagnosed me with daddy issues lol #like they are just careless without consideration lazy to a point that borders machismo mean aggressive insensitive play the victim when you #offended them tho disgusting and dirty to the point is almost unbelievable to me #and they still believe like they are the shit #im trying to see both sides of the coin in people and there are good things going on with my brothers but most of the time I feel like the– #bad REALLY outweighs the good #and like it makes me angry to such a level like living with them makes me feel like im gonna go insane like gone girl kinda crazy❤️ #and im not exaggerating when I say that im afraid I’m gonna get stuck in a relationship with a man like that like the facade is gonna fall #and im gonna be just as miserable as I am right now #idk I guess I haven’t had many positive male role models in my life I feel like everytine i could’ve have one in my family or they were– #like the partners of family members they always turned out awful and the women ended up miserable :(((( #i want to move so bad preferably to another country but I can’t even think where to start :((( #rant

[priniya]

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART !

summary: when sirius said siblings are off limits, james never thought he would break that rule as his best friend was the only one to have siblings close to their age, but everything seems to change when the sister sirius swore to hate because of her cruelty has several detentions with him and she’s not as cruel as her brother described.

notes: james potter x black!reader. reader is a twin sister of regulus, kinda angsty at the end, hurt/comfort, sirius is kind of an ass. not proofread

PART 2! • taglist (click here to be added!)

you really thought that the detention with james potter would go easy. not a word would be shared, him not even looking at you as he probably know your relationship with his best friend, and then you two would have a week free from each other, but james potter seemed to be interested in you – or more likely, how did you end up in a detention.

he saw you as a perfect black, that’s how sirius would describe you, or your twin brother whenever someone brought up your name. and no matter how positive it sounds, he was always negative, never mentioning your childhood, and how attached you were to him.

the perfect black daughter, more ideal than narcissa or bellatrix, the one who would never obey her elders unlike sirius or andromeda, the one who would do whatever they say to please them.

well, it was partially true, you could give that to him. but you nor regulus weren’t like any other family members. you weren’t brave enough to stand up to your parents and survive the punishment with a smile on your lips like your brother did, you two were two afraid to do anything that could make orion or walburga mad.

but both of you were proud slytherins, with regulus being one of the best quidditch players of your house, and you impressively good at whatever you touched. you were plotting against your parents, the death-eathers and everyone that could get in the way of your plan. an escape plan, to runaway somewhere far like france or canada, while everyone thinks you died. nonetheless, sirius couldn’t know that – he barely spoke to any of you, which just worsened when you were invited to the deatheaters meeting at your house.

in his eyes, you were nothing but a piece of shit like rest of your family for being unable to runaway earlier, for having no one to runaway to, as the rumors about your enjoyment in dark magic spread at school with light speed. however, unlike sirius you had your twin, always ready to stand up for you and vice versa, always ready to fight anyone who says a bad thing about you.

sometimes you and regulus would sneak out of the house and wander around the crowded streets of london, thinking how would your life looked like if you weren’t wizards, if you weren’t born into a family with an obsession of blood status and keeping it pure.

what made you even more perfect in everyone’s eyes was that you looked exactly like a female version of regulus, or more accurately, he looked like a male version of you. wearing the same clothes when you didn’t have to wear robes, and it wasn’t like you planned it – you had a gut feeling to wear your expensive like hell, black coat, and so had he. you looked intimidating, walking next to your brother, evan rosier and other friends of yours with faces that seemed to never experience any emotions. like rocks, untouched by people’s words, stares and pointing fingers.

“how did you end up here?” your companion asked out of sudden, making you shift in your chair. you already finished cleaning the classroom but there was still more than an twenty minutes left, and you couldn’t just leave for whatever reasons. “didn’t expect to see the perfect black sister having time to bother herself with things like detentions.”

“and why does it interest you, potter?” a sigh slipped from between your lips as you rest your chin on the left hand. “so my brother can have more reasons to despise me, because as i presume, you’ll tell him.” you didn’t even let him have a glimpse of your mimic as he could only see your back.

“oh, miss black, who do you think i am?” you heard him get closer, and take a seat by your side, probably briefly looking at the book you’d read. he could swore to merlin, he thought it’d be a book containing black magic spells you would cast if flinch didn’t confiscate your wands. but it was far from dark margic. “i’m just curious, have heard a lot of… things about you and wanted to check myself.”

you fixed your black hair before quickly considering if you should tell him the real reason or the made up one you’d told evan and pandora. “hmm, what would i get from telling you?” you leaned closer to him, revealing your face. it was one of your first encounters with james potter, and hell, you know it wouldn’t be the last one, since there were at least four next weeks of detention together.

“we could figure something out, y’know.” he shrugged, scanning every inch of your flawless skin, starting at your eyebrows and eyes, through lips to chin. you were gorgeous, and james couldn’t blame the first years that sometimes followed you like a lost puppy around the castle, trying to gain your attention or the girls having their lesbians awakening while watching slytherin’s practice with you as a substitute for your brother. every comment he had heard about your immaculate beauty was so real, that he could swore he would develop a crush on you in other circumstances. “just tell me.”

“i stood in my brother’s defense, the one you know better.” you replied, averting your look back to the book you were reading, not really bothering yourself to catch a glimpse of james’ parted mouth as he realized the sense of your words. “any more questions or can i finally focus on my book?”

“why did you- how did you-?”

“as much as some people tries to say, i do care about my family members’ well-beings, even though they refuse to talk to me or my twin.” you let out a little too harsh than you planned. “and no one will say anything bad about my brother unless it’s me or regulus.” you didn’t even wait for his reponse, leaving the classroom as soon as the clock hit nine in the evening.

you could say everything, yet you decided to reveal part of the thing that happened. and you knew that james would, most likely, tell your brother how you tried to gain his attention by making up a story. what you didn’t tell him was the part where you broke lucius malfoy’s nose, completely forgetting how much influence had his father on yours, and how mad they would be.

the next detention went… smoother. james didn’t bother you with questions about elaborating on the reason of your punishment, however it wouldn’t be james potter if he stayed quiet. especially when you didn’t have to clean the classroom again, just sit in silence while mcgonagall watched over you, but unfortunately (for you) she had to leave.

“miss black, didn’t expect you here.” a chuckle left his mouth, sitting himself in front of you, taking in your gorgeous face. “any kid’s dreams of dating you crashed last week?” for a moment, a millisecond, he could see a shadow of smile on your lips, and james potter felt like he already accomplished his mission for today.

“how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes in a playful manner, allowing yourself to look at the boy in front of you. his dark curls fell onto his forehead, and you could swear if it wasn’t for his glasses that somehow kept them out of his eyes’ way, he wouldn’t see a thing.

and you couldn’t know that, but james potter wouldn’t let himself miss such an opportunity to just stare at you for at least few minutes. it was strange, he never wanted to just look at a girl, who wasn’t lily evans and interested in him at the same time. though somehow, you were living free in his mind, making the boy catch himself on staring at you during meals.

“pulled out some prank on snape lately?” you added before he replied, a hand put under your chin as you leaned over the table, watching his every move. his eyes lit up immediately on your visible interest in whatever he had done during the previous week. “not a fan of snape?” james questioned, his eyebrow higher than usually.

“please.” you rolled your eyes again. “is there anyone who’s a fan of snape besides your girlfriend?” you let yourself smile at him for a brief moment, before shifting in your chair.

“evans s’not my girlfriend.” his replied shocked you, you could’ve sworn to yourself you saw them snogging somewhere. not that you cared with whom james was making out. you didn’t care, at all. “rumor has it, you two hook up a lot.”

“i’d throw up over him rather than do anything that involves physical touch. he disgusts me.” you knitted your eyebrows together at the so-called rumor, you already heard from sirius on christmas.

“why? because he’s a half-blood?” the gryffindor seeker blurted out before thinking, causing you to back out from the conversation, a strange feeling of pain raising in your heart. it was something he would regret saying later at night, processing every inch of your talk, realizing that everyone thought you were a pure-blood supremacist, and probably it wasn’t the best thing he could say to you.

“because he’s a misogynistic piece of shit, potter. snape could be a highly born pure-blood wizard, the best one out there, but if he says things like this about your little girlfriend when she’s not there or any female in general, he’s a piece of shit like any of his friends.” your words came out harshly, but you felt disrespected by someone who tried talking to you first.

the rest of the detention you spent in silence while james was explaining something that involved brooms and words snivellus, regret, and some other things you didn’t pay attention to, too busy counting minutes to the end of that cruel meeting.

however, the third and fourth were much more… pleasing, you could say. the boy pulled an expression like if he actually wanted to get to know you on his own and found out what made you silent a week earlier. it almost felt like it was planned, mcgonagall’s presence needed somewhere else, and a bunch of sweets you adored, snatched from the kitchen in a little bag in his hand.

“sorry. for the last time, i said some stupid shit that didn’t mean to come out like that.” he confessed, genuine in his voice was so clear that you couldn’t held back a smile, forming on your lips upon seeing his gesture. “don’t say shit like i didn’t have to. i did. i wanted to apologize, and get to know you.”

“hmm, apologise accepted.” you spoke out softly, offering him a bar of chocolate. “but, mister potter, why do you want to get to know me so bad? thought other people know everything better than me.”

he shifted in his position, getting closer to you, a mischievous smirk spread over his lips. “y’know, miss black, you’re an interesting person, and i can’t get you out of my head, so i had to do something about it.”

the upsides of your immaculate skin was that it tended to get red-ish rapidly, and that comment of his with the flirtatious tone made you burning red. without any shield to cover your face, you broke the eye contact with the gryffindor, and smiled involuntarily, feeding up his ego.

however, it didn’t took you long to look him in the eyes again, continuing the conversation with a smug smile that matched his. “what would you like to know, ask and i’ll answer.”

you awaited questions like how is it to be a death eather, or have you ever thought of killing someone for your parents’ sake, or anything that would make you cringe inside. although, he firstly asked you questions people never remember the answers to — what’s your favorite colour, muggle movie, a book you could recommend him to read in a free time.

“james potter likes contemporary romances?” you laughed, shaking your head at the answer to the last question he gave you. there was no imagine in your head of james potter, the great seeker of gryffindor, reading a contemporary romance book with eagerness and passion. “i’ll like whatever you recommend me, pretty girl.”

“hmm” you dragged out the words, searching for something in your bag. an exclusive, limited edition costing thousands of muggle’s money, of your favorite book – the pride and prejudice by jane austen. there was a brief moment of hesitation, was he just playing around and you would never get it back, or does he really wanna read it? there was something in his eyes that made you trust him prior to handing him the book. “it’s my favorite one.”

“you like classics?” you nodded.

james felt a weird, tingling feeling in his stomach as you clarified it was your favorite one, and now he had it in his hands. he recognized the muggle author, because his mom read a lot of muggle classics and romance in her freetime. it was bizarre to learn you liked muggle book, hardly ever mentioning a wizard one.

for the rest of the third detention you just… talked, ending up with being walked by him to the basement, so the disscusion you had wouldn’t be cut off so suddenly. the fourth one was even better, the best of them as there was no awkwardness between you two, despite the closeness of your bodies. he sat next to you, your arm and leg touching his whenever he leaned closer.

this time, you were the one talking — infuriated by some guys from ravenclaw that had catcalled you a few times on your way to the detention and one had tried to touch you, thinking it was okay to touch anyone without their consent. they were seniors, finishing school in june when you were a fifth-year, frightened by the vision of writing owls in may.

james just nodded his head, not daring to interrupt you even once, maybe in fear of getting hit by your hands that couldn’t stop moving ever since you started your monologue. he just chimmed in a few times saying true and yes, but he was focused on how your eyes flickered with annoyance and anger, making you even prettier.

“are you even listening to me, james?” the way you empathized his name made his stomach do a flip, a whole acrobatic performance. it was one of the first times, or even the first, when you referred to him as james, not potter, not mister potter or anything you’d called him before, james. “yeah, yes, sorry. assholes from ravenclaw, right?”

he walked you to the entrance of slyherin common room for the last time as it was your last detention together for a while, and you smiled at him warmly before disappearing behind the doors. the first thing you saw after stepping into the room was your brother’s interested smile.

“potter walking you here? someone got a crush.” he laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you climbed the stairs up to his dormitory. “sirius would probably kill him if it was true, my dearest little brother.” you replied walking into the room of your brother and his few friends.

“sirius would kill who?” rosier walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waistline, winking at you with a flirtatious smirk. “quit it, evan. she’s my sister.” regulus was faster to reply.

you plopped on evan’s bed as it was the only free one and sighed. “reg thinks a certain gryffindor has a crush on me because he walked me here.”

“twice.”

“okay, yeah. james walked me twice and regulus thinks he has a crush on me for simply being nice, after literally interviewing me.” you mumbled, crossing arms on your chest. “there’s nothing to discuss here, he’s a gryffindor, a potter, it’s just inherited kindness.”

“and why are you so involved in figuring it out, sister?” your brother asked with a smug smile, his eyebrows high up as he thought he found out about your great secret. “do you reciprocate his little crush on you, huh?”

“shut up, asshole.” you rolled your eyes, throwing one of evan’s additional pillows at him. “do i look like a 5’4 ginger with a gryffindor’s scarf hung around my neck?”

“please, if i’ll see you one day in a fucking gryffindor robe, i don’t know who i am going to kill first, your future boyfriend or you for cheating on me, pretty girl.” evan sat beside you, almost immediately throwing his hand over your shoulder, pulling you closer to his still wet-ish chest.

you laughed, making yourself comfortable. unfortunately for regulus (who always wanted to kill any of his friends that tried to hit up on you), you enjoyed your flirtatious relationship with evan. “you think really highly of yourself, mr. rosier, took my first proper make-out and you think you decides on which robes i wear?” you shot back, biting back a playful grin appearing on your face.

“you know what i mean, sweetheart.” prior to regulus gag, you sent your friend a kiss and he pretended to catch it and hide in the depths of his heart. “of course, lovely.”

“please, get the fuck out if you want to be all couple-y here with each other.” andrew, another friend of your brother, groaned with fake annoyance as you sent evan another kiss. “what, andy? you jealous or something?” your friend laughed in an answer.

the next time you saw james was when a guy that tried to harass you, walked into the great hall with ugly, red hair and a robe with a large, inscription above his head “i harassed a younger girl.” he sat at the table across the hall, a mischievous grin spreading over his lips as you were the only person his eyes had focused on.

fifteen minutes later, you met him under the willow tree, a smug rosing on his face when you caught his glance. “miss black!” he called out, waving at you. “did you like what i did? especially for you.”

“it was… funny, you know.” you chuckled, taking a seat next to him as you had around twenty minutes left before anyone that could suspect basically anything would walk out of the castle. “i can give you that.” you mumbled, closing your eyes when your head touched the rough tree limb.

“sooo, you should go out with me as a favor, pretty girl.” he sent you a charming smile that would make your legs weak if you weren’t sitting next to him. “maybe on sunday, watchu think?”

you wanted to disagree, say no to him and explain yourself that your older brother, his best friend at the same time, wouldn’t be fond of this idea, though he looked at you with those alluring, brown eyes of his, and you couldn’t deny. “fine. sunday, it is.”

and that’s how you two began to go out, sneaking around and lying to your brothers that nothing really went on with the two of you. nevertheless, sirius was completely unaware of your little dates as anything had barely changed — james still talking about lily with a picture of you in his mind, and you… still didn’t talk to him. whatsoever, regulus knew about everything by connecting the dots and following the clues you left him unwillingly.

“i’ll kill him, hope you know that.” he spoke out suddenly, when you tried to get to your classroom in time, especially because it was potions and slughorn never tolerated lateness. never if you weren’t his favorite students that he collected like gems, giving them privileges and other additions that were probably against school rules. “huh?”

“potter.” you froze in your tracks for a minute. “if he ever lays a hand on you like our father did on our mother or do anything that upsets you, he’s dead.” a warm smile was painted on your brother’s mouth as he cocked his head to the side.

“what? don’t look at me like that. i’m not dumb as others to not notice the smiles he sends you from across the hall or how you disappear to hang out with julie, when she’s alone in the common room.” he exclaimed, a few laughs left his mouth, when you still frozen, looked at him with horror in the eyes. “i’m happy for you, chill, ugly face.”

“you’re not mad? fuming? furious?” you asked, voice somehow still low when you entered the classroom. “will you try to name all the synonyms for mad? and i’m not, y/n. i’ll leave that for the other brother you have.”

you gave him a quick side hug, before occupying yourself with anything that the teacher said, scolding you for being late, again. however, all you had on your mind was the date, your soon-to-be-boyfriend took you on.

it was the date, you’d say… a surprise one, and with james, they were on the normal basis. he would somehow let you know that there are places you need to be at night and a guide on which type of clothes should you wear (and a few notes saying how good you look during the day). then, he usually awaits you beside the enterance to your common room under the invisibility cloak, waiting to finally be able to kiss you. three nights ago, you two ended up in the pub, drank a few butter beers and met a few people that sixteen and fifteen years old probably shouldn’t met at night, they acted nice though.

however the night when everything went downhilld was the night you were supposed to spend in the library, studying to the upcoming owls that stressed the living shit out of you since the beginning of school year. a cup of coffee standing beside the books to transmutation, your biggest nightmare, dark red stains adding a little life to the white cup that was emptying with every other moment.

you were about to get another sip of the sweet liquid you’d prepared earlier, when it was snatched from your hand while someone planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “hey, love.” his voice so soft, and delicate you almost passed out from the tingling, warm feeling in your abdomen.

love, love, love. you would let someone kill you to hear it one more time.

“jamie, hi.” you tilted your head to the side, smiling at the boy warmly. “that’s the first time i see you in the library, something happened?” he shook his head with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

james was the only person along regulus that you had never minded having any form of physical touch, as you grew up with the minimum you sometimes got as a reward. with all the other boys that tried to get somewhere near you at the parties it was just weird, having their arms thrown around various parts of your body had never failed to make you uncomfortable, even with evan you couldn’t be fully okay.

but james… you craved it to function like a normal human being. his touch was like oxygen, the feeling of his hands on your waist, hips, hands was… enchanting, making you want to live again. it was like if you were in a romance book, having the full epic, first sight, soulmates love with a twist (your brother’s hatred towards you). was it love? you couldn’t say yet.

“just wanted to spend some time with ya, y’know?” his hand flew to his curls, ruffling it as he lowered his eyes, focusing himself on the books in front of you. “transmutation? the old hag loves me, you could’ve said something.”

“i tried to figure it out on my own, but i barely moved from the starting point…” you let out a low groan, hiding your head in your hands, exhausted. “didn’t want to be a bother, you know.”

“love, i got outstanding from my transmutation owls, it’s like an easy revision for me.” he planted a kiss on her check, before leaning closer and stealing another sip of her coffee. “i’ll get us something to eat and you’ll be first in your classes”

“mkayy, thank you, jamie.”

well. there wasn’t much of studying, if you were honest. when the lights went finally out, your boyfriend put the invisibility cloak on top of you, so ms. prince wouldn’t catch you past the curfew. the minute she closed the library’s door, you felt potter’s lips crashing into yours, one of his hands pulling off fabric of the cloak.

he sat you down on the table, tossing the books aside. his hand gripping your thigh firmly, after sliding it underneath the fabric of your skirt. you could feel the burning marks his touch left on your skin, heated kisses tracing down your neck with hickies almost all over it.

you would probably keep going if it wasn’t for someone that dropped whatever they had in their hands upon seeing you two. before you could notice any characteristics of the person you heard james let out a mumble “oh fuck”.

and then you saw your brother’s face.

oh fuck indeed.

he stormed to you and before james could even react, he was hit by the shoulder of sirius whose eyes were still on your face. “stay the fuck away from my brother.” the way he empathized the word brother made you feel like someone just stabbed you in the back repeatedly. with the moment these words left his mouth, your whole expression changed to the emotionless and blank, the one you gave everyone but your friends.

“sirius…” your boyfriend sighed, his hand, the one that had a grip on your thigh, was now on the oldest boy’s shoulder. “don’t. this is between me and her.”

“stop messing with my friends’ heads. you don’t deserve to be near them, none of them is a fucking deatheather like you or the other one, none of them will ever be, because unlike you two, they’re good.” he spat, eyes burning with fury. “i don’t care how many of your charming smile you had to give him to take the amortentia from you, but it’ll end, sooner or later.”

“you don’t even know me, sirius.” you stated, your tone still and awfully cold as you got off the table and stood in front of your brother. “don’t act like you do, brother.”

“don’t call me that.” he replied, taking your wrist in his hand. “i don’t fucking care that we grew up together, that we share our last names. we’re not siblings since you and regulus joined his forces. so stay the fuck away from james, he doesn’t even love you, the only thing he talks 'bout is evans.”

“does he, really?” you cocked your head to the side, not letting his words influence you, not here. “you know, maybe your so-called brother wouldn’t have to lie to you if you weren’t so obsessed with hatred you have towards me and regulus. maybe he could tell you that he was the one who started bugging the shit out of me, maybe he could tell you how did we even meet.”

you could see sirius flinch, averting his gaze to potter, who tried to get in between you for a moment now. “don’t tell me it’s true, prongs, after what she did to me?”

“what i did to you? you were the one who left, brother, you’re the one who cut us off the second we were sorted to slytherin, you runaway and you’re mad, because i and reg were fucking kids who wanted to survive.” your voice broke, nevertheless, it didn’t stop you. “you didn’t even try to do something, save us, yet both of us were so fucking stupid defending you whenever someone brought you up. i broke lucius’ nose when he talked shit about you, but fucking evans is closer to being your sister than me, i’m so sick of it.” you couldn’t hold up your coldness, and calmness and you broke down within the end of the sentence, mascara smudged all over your cheeks as you cried while running out of the room.

you didn’t expect james to run down after you — you thought he’d stay with his friend, becuase there weren’t anyone you thought would run after you (excluding regulus, because he would jump into the flames with you). so when your boyfriend barged into the moaning myrtle’s bathroom you were shocked.

“baby…” he spoke out quietly, pulling you into a hug, gentle but tight. you didn’t even look at him, just cried your eyes out while breaking his heart by saying how tired you are of everything, and how you wanted sirius to be your brother again. a few kisses were planted on your hair as he tried to calm you down.

“jamie, please don’t leave me now.” you pulled away to look at him, eyes already red and swollen from tears. you weren’t used to show how vulnerable you were, and a thought of your boyfriend leaving you, because of it was so realistic in your head.

“what? why would i?” he knitted his eyebrows. “y/n, i love you and i know that deeply inside you care about what sirius think of you, but you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? with that said, i won’t leave you, never, okay?” you nodded lightly, resting your head on his shoulder.

“i love you too.” you whispered. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore, right?” a small smile painted on your lips upon your words.

“it’s us against the world right now, love.”

#james potter x reader #harry potter #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #prongs x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black angst #regulus black x reader #marauders #james potter #marauders angst #marauders fanfiction #marauders x y/n #james potter one shot #james potter x you #james potter x black!reader #marauders fic #regulus black x sister!reader #james potter x slytherin!reader #niki’s works 🫂

[gatorbites-imagines]

um could I request Conner Kent with a male reader who is just like him. Reader is a clone of another hero made by Cadmus, but the reader is a year or two older. When Conner and their first meet is during his initial escape and him coming apart from the team, and them bonding over them being clones. What would their relationship be like.

Conner Kent x Plastic Man Clone Male Reader

Headcanons

Reader is a clone of Plastic Man, cuz I love him.

Heyo my Hatchlings, how has everyone been doing? I finally finished up my assignment and I’m finally back. Did you guys miss me?

As a clone of Plastic Man, you put a good amount of people on edge when you appeared. Seeing as Plastic Man is very much immortal and unbeatable in the long game, they feared if you were good or evil, as there wouldn’t really be any way to defeat you if you turned out to be bad.

Luckily for them, you turned out to be as good of a guy as a clone of Plastic Man could be. You weren’t completely black and white, and sure you stole sometimes, and had a habit out of causing problems for corrupt people in power, but who were they to blame you.

You lived with Patrick Obrian, since he’s the closest thing you have to a family, and he never even had the thought of rejecting you because of your clone status. If anybody knows what its like to be judged and struggling to exist, its him.

Patrick plays an active supportive role in your life, and he teaches you how to use your powers. You end up being very skilled at the shapeshifting part of your shared powers. Sure, you still stretched, grew or shrank in size, anything Plastic Man could do, but you enjoyed shapeshifting the most. You even got a hang on switching colors, something Patrick struggled with.

When Young Justice was cooked up, you were one of the first they placed on the team. Mainly because of how powerful you were, and since part of them wanted to keep an eye on you, just in case.

You never took anything too seriously, it just came with the territory of being a clone of Plastic Man. Live life and all that. You did get into some arguments with different members of the team when it comes to morals, but that’s to be expected of a team.

When the team finds and rescues Conner, you immediately feel a level of kinship with him. Your clone status isn’t known outside of the league, so the knowledge Conner was born with doesn’t let him know you are a clone too.

As everyone tries to figure out what to do with Conner, you just settle down beside him, your stretched limbs dragging closer to you until they’re the normal length, where you offer him a snack or something to drink.

“Youd think they’d be better at dealing with clones, huh?” you joke, chewing on your own snack as he just looks at you, still confused and on edge about everything.

At his questioning glance, you lift your goggles and wink at him, pointing a thumb at yourself as you almost proudly declare yourself a clone of the best member of the justice league, if you were to be asked anyways.

As the league tries to figure it all out, you sit with Conner and just talk his ear off, never letting him wallow to far and making it harder for him to overhear the negative things said about him. Only Patrick knew, but the League fearing that you’d turn evil still weighed on you, and you didn’t want Conner to deal with the same thing.

Its only after you’ve made him smile and laugh that you accept that you’ve done your duty. When its time to leave you give him a way to contact you, and give him another cheesy wink before pulling your goggles back on, telling him that you clones should stick together.

Over time you become one of the people Conner is closest too, especially when he isn’t as welcomes by the people around him as he had hoped. This angers you and by extension Patrick, but your father figure just rolls his eyes and says he isn’t surprised.

In the beginning Conner spends a lot of time with you and Patrick, but mainly you, since you are closer in age. To be someone to look up too, you even stop with your petty crime for a while, just so your bad reputation won’t rub off on Conner.

Seeing him mingle better with the team, you take a happy step back and let him build the relationships he craves. Because of your different opinions and looser morals, you never became much more than acquaintances with the team, but seeing your fellow clone happy is enough for you.

But even as Conner gets closer to the team, he still holds onto you, since you were the first person to show him casual kindness without any suspicion or wanting something in return. You also have a lot more life skill than he does, so going to you for advice is normal for him.

When the time comes, you were most likely the one to leave the young justice team first out of everyone. You just don’t fit into their dynamic, and you run best on your own or with your father figure. Its hard to be an immortal who would never get to experience true normal life on a team of people who could.

You don’t leave the league, but you become more of a contractor, someone they call in when they need the help. You keep beating up bad guys, but you also fall back on the familiar feeling of crime. You only steal from those that deserve it though, and use your shapeshifting to easily get away with it.

It becomes a bit of a running gag, as the league always sends the young justice team after you since you aren’t an actual lethal threat. It kinda becomes training for them, and since Meghan can’t ever find you through mind powers, they have to work hard to find you.

When Conner leaves the team you to go out for drinks. Who cares about your ages. Seeing your father figure, you could be thousands of years old and never age physically, so it didn’t matter to you.

If your relationship was romantic, this would most likely be where it developed further, since Conner would be less tied to the team, and he could spend more time with you.

If your relationship isn’t romantic, it would still develop from here, just become more brotherly. You always joke you’re the batman to his superman, always shapeshifting into batman when you do, much to Conners fake annoyance.

Honestly even if it became romantic, youd still transform into batman and make kissy faces at him, since superbat is probably a running gag in the league.

You guys go on dates, even if its platonic, just to spend time together, maybe travel the world a bit, or even travel space, since you could easily survive away from earth. Theres probably also some very deep conversations about existence and your worth, since being a clone and always being treated like one weigh heavy on anyone.

When it truly hits Conner how much you struggle with your own role as a clone, he’s a bit surprised. Hed never imagined you were just completely fine, but you had always seemed to let the comments and suspicion roll off your back.

All in all, you two have each other’s back, always. The bond you have is deep in the way only two people created the same place for the same purpose can have. So, no matter if its romantic or platonic, you two become a familiar sight on and off the battlefield.

#male reader #dc #young justice #conner kent #kon el #dc imagine #dc headcanon #dc x male reader #dc x reader #plastic man clone male reader #young justice imagine #young justice x reader #young justice headcanon #young justice x male reader #conner kent imagine #conner kent x reader #conner kent headcanon #conner kent x male reader #kon el imagine #kon el headcanon #kon el x male reader #kon el x reader #justice league #justice league x male reader #justice league x reader #justice league headcanon #justice league imagine

[nymphia-tarot]

✞︎ All About Your Past Life 🦢🩶

pile 1 ----> pile 2

pile 3 ----> pile 4

🕊️ meditate on the pics and pick whichever one calls to you the most. you might feel drawn to more than one pile, which means you may have messages in other piles for you as well! if you don't feel particularly drawn to any pile, the messages in this reading might not be intended for you. since this is a general reading, take what resonates! 🕊️

🩶Pile 1

For my pile 1s I'm getting a lot of yall had very hard and stressful lives 😭 You might have faced a lot of societal and systematic problems which kept you worried throughout your life. With the world rx I'm getting that yall were deeply unsatisfied with the way your life progressed in the past and that there were a lot of regrets and unfulfilled wishes in the end. You were very intelligent and clever and it helped you survive the tough times though you might've been denied of a formal education due to your background and were kinda inhibited in a way from reaching your full potential. But from some of you, I'm getting that you did get to pursue the field you wanted initially but it didn't pan out due to practical issues and you had to abandon your own happiness. For some of you, I'm getting like street thug or thief? Where you were involved in illegal stuff and did a lot of questionable shit to survive and in the end it cost you a lot. I'm getting overall that money was a big issue in your life. However, you guys were very mentally strong people who had a "come what may" attitude towards hardships because you were so used to it.

You might've been in love with someone (I'm getting a woman) of high status in society but you couldn't dare to court her due to the difference in your social positions. For your career, it's like no matter how hard you worked it was extremely difficult to get to where you wanted and you might've also been burdened with the worries of feeding and supporting you family because you were the primary provider. Eventually, you ended up in a conventional marriage, probably arranged too, but you were never satisfied with your spouse truly. You always yearned after someone else (the lady mentioned earlier?) and couldn't give your heart to your spouse fully. For some of you guys, I'm getting you were a woman forced into a marriage with someone you didn't love just to provide for your family and fell in love with someone else (a foreign man I'm seeing) and tried to elope but it caused a huge scandal and you ended up homeless and abandoned.

You might've lived during a time where the economic situation and all wasn't really the best and the common folk were always under the worry of starving the next day. I'm getting like, a cold place too? You had to give up a lot of your dreams for the sake of either other people or due to the bad luck handed to you during your lifetime. It's like you lost sight of your purpose in life at the end and ended up deeply unhappy.

🩶Pile 2:

[TW: mentions of abuse‼️⚠️]

Pile 2, I'm getting you guys grew up in an affluent or well-off family. Probably like upper middle-class or something. Many of you guys' fathers were probably some rich businessman/trader. However, I'm getting that you guys had very unhappy childhoods. For some, I'm getting you guys were orphaned early due to an accident and may have been in grief for a long time. The trauma might've stayed with you guys for a good amount of time and it deeply affected you future interactions and capability to have relationships. For others, I'm getting like childhood abuse? By a male figure, or bullying by the rest of your family members, and it deeply impacting your self-confidence. As an adult, you might've closed your heart off entirely but deep down your biggest wish was a desire for a genuine connection free of deception, and true love. You guys were genuine romantics at heart. I'm getting that you guys in pile 2 didn't really marry at all and that romance wasn't really a big part of your life.

Spirituality was a major part of life for some in this pile and you guys might've become nuns that swore a vow of chastity or just some other religious/spiritual figure who inspired and taught people. My pile 2s are very nurturing and gentle souls deep down and it seems like people may be drawn to your warmth and caring personality. You guys provided comfort to a lot of people in your past life. Even if you weren't a religious figure, I'm getting that you were in some sort of position where you took care of people like a nurse or something. After a certain point in your adult lives, you guys took to travel: for some it was a spiritual journey, for others it was just a normal journey to aid those in need and help the impoverished in society like maybe social workers. You guys had innate spiritual gifts and intuition and your purpose in life was to help people. Very kind souls overall. Many people might've looked to you as a wise and knowledgeable figure in your later years and you became a symbol of knowledge and learning in your community. You might have even travelled from place to place to spread your knowledge and aid people.

In this life, a lot of you guys in pile 2 might be very passionate and dedicated individuals with a zest for life. Maybe a water sign too? Or like prominent water placements in chart. I feel like your past life purpose carried over to your current one as well and you might be very spiritual and intuitive people. "Learn to let go of your fears and let loose" is what I'm hearing?

🩶Pile 3:

Pile 3, It seems a big theme surrounding the energy of your past life was a certain lack of control you had regarding your destiny and choices. You might've been born to a life where you were put under heavy obligations and duties because of your position. You must have felt really restricted and burdened, as if there are eyes all over you, and pressure from everywhere, to the point you felt really burdened and suffocated. You might have been born at a time and place where there was a lot of upheaval and chaos and you were a key figure regarding the events, or at least you played a part in maintaining the balance of the situation no matter how small. For a huge part of your life, you might have been a part of a "higher order" (whatever that means) where you had to maintain a strong front. Perhaps there was a lot of conflict involved in your era and you were forced to participate or mitigate the issue. For some, I'm getting you had a very strict and controlling maternal figure in your life who made all your choices for you and shoved you into the path you were headed without really giving you any free will. And fir some, I'm getting a vindictive and malicious feminine figure of authority who posed as a thorn throughout your life.

There seems to be a lot of trickery and manipulation surrounding your relationships in this past life reading. Perhaps due to your position, there were a lot of malicious individuals who coveted your downfall. There were a lot of lies, backstabbing and secrecy involved in your interpersonal relationships, most likely due to the chaotic situation fate had handed to you. It was as if you could never fully trust anyone around you with your back. Due to these complications, it seems you never really found someone to commit yourself to.

One of your biggest desires in your past life that went unfulfilled was a desire to take charge and carve out your own path by yourself. You had to live in constant worry and fear of betrayal and death. Quite a lot of you in pile 3 were those who had a more creative streak to you and maybe what you really desired was to start a business of your own or to pursue the arts. A lot of you ended up as martyrs in your life which was the necessary step to pave the path for everyone's happiness but it ultimately made you sacrifice your own. I'm getting a lot of you also just wanted to live a life if simplicity in a small-scale area or community, away from the burdens of your position. An advice spirit is telling my pile 3s is to "drive out the negative influences and to take back your power".

🩶Pile 4:

Whoo pile 4 you guys are the most "tame" pile so far in the sense that you guys probably led the "happier" life compared to the other piles lol. The other piles' energy were so heavy 😭

I think my pile 4s were leading relatively simple and cosy lives but I'm getting that work/career was a significant source of stress for you guys in your lives. You guys were hard workers who probably worked in a job where you had to collaborate with or meet a lot of people. Maybe you guys were severely burnt out by your work to the point you felt your spark diminishing. Or perhaps life was so easy that you felt bored and wishing for adventure and excitement. You guys were very grounded and stable individuals however. I'm getting there might have been a lot of workplace drama in your lives though. Your co-workers may not have had your best interests at heart and you might have gotten cheated or manipulated by them. I'm getting workplace injustice. They took advantage of your kindness and giving nature and used it to exploit you. You might have even gotten framed for something you had no hand in and had to suffer for it.

You were, however, very loved and abundant when it came to suitors and friends. You might have even gotten a lot of love offers and proposals. You eventually ended up in a happy marriage with a very sensitive and emotionally mature person who cared a lot for you. I'm getting Aquarius vibes? Your spouse had a lot of love for you in their hearts and was someone who was willing to dive deep into anything for your sake.

I'm getting that a major issue surrounding your past life is work-life imbalance and diminishing creativity/passion. You guys might have been depressed at some point too. Perhaps you were chained to a very conformist lifestyle where you did not get to have a lot of fun. An advice I'm hearing from spirit is to guard your possessions and be wary of whom you give to. Don't just let people take what's yours freely and be open to what's different from the norm from time to time.

#free tarot reading #intuitive #pac reading #pac tarot #pick a card #pick a picture #tarot #tarot reading #past life #past lives #past life reading #past life tarot #psychic #tarot spread #spirituality #spiritual advice #karmic #beginner witch

[cromulent-marshland]

I know I'm going to be insane about Lisa Frankenstein for the rest of the year and I loved every bit of it. Today, I want to talk about female rage, especially teenager female rage portrayed in the movie.

I was a teenage girl not that long ago (notably in the late 2010's, when I hadn't even known I was non-binary), and what I remember about it is that people, (family members, teachers, adults in my life) never wanted me to be angry. I was a ball of emotions, but I had to be the rational one. I had to be the centered one. Not my little brother, or even my older brother, not my male classmates, just me and the other teenage girls. I couldn't lose my head or I was a bitch. I couldn't cry or I was a sensitive baby. I had to be happy or I wasn't worth the attention of others.

Lisa has the same problem every other girl has. If you have complex emotions, like grief or anger or sadness, nobody wants to see them. You can deal with that stuff on your own. Taffy gets the attention because she hides those "unsavory" emotions behind smiles and mascara. When she finally shows any kind of trauma, she is ignored, thrown away like a piece of garbage.

That's why I love Lisa and the Creature's relationship. The Creature can tell that Lisa is struggling, and he knows the consequences of what it is to be a woman whose emotions are different or hard to hide. He saw it in the early 1800's, where woman were considered crazy or filled with hysteria if they didn't conform to the standards men wanted them to be. They had wandering womb syndrome, or they were old maids, or they were locked up, literally hidden from society.

He sees Lisa struggling, and does everything in his power to make her feel validated in her struggles. Her rage doesn't make him hate her, just the opposite. Her sadness is his vindication to go after the ones that hurt her. When she feels happy, true happiness, he does too. He accepts her for the flawed human being she is, and in return, so does she.

Everything she does for him only changes him physically. His emotions never change for her. He doesn't get mad at her when she acts irrational. He's jealous when she goes to Michael's, but still drives her anyway and protects her when she gets hurt, literally shielding her with his body.

More movies need to show that teenage girls that are flawed. Teenage girls are angry. They aren't pretty little flowers. They feel rage and anger in a system when their pain is mitigated.

I want more teenage girls in film to fight people, get angry, chop off abuser's hands, or just allowed to show those "bad" emotions. It doesn't make them villains. It doesn't make them horrible people. It makes them human.

#lisa frankenstein #female rage

[sugairsstuff]

Hi saw you're looking to write stories and was hoping to send some inspiration your way! I am a sucker for "Who did this to you?" Trope and I'm just in need of more Cassian from ACOTAR on this site. So I'm thinking of a little one-shot story of the reader getting hurt by an ex or a family member she doesn't get along with and the General of the Night Court being Angry about it.

Happy Writing! Can't wait to see what you come up with! 😊

thank you very much for being my first request! and i’d be happy to- sorry if i’m a bit rusty- i hope you enjoy how i approached this prompt!

who did this to you.

cassian x fem reader (a court of thorns and roses)

warnings: mentions of abuse, minor descriptions of violence

summary: you run into an ex who wrongfully treated you, and in his pathetic attempts to beg you for forgiveness he injures you. conflicted, you choose not to tell your mate, both suppressing your right to feel emotional and worried for cassian should he go after the male. but your mate knows you like the back of his hand, and you decide to tell the truth before cassian figures it out himself.

(credit to @cafekitsune for the divider)

You stand at the end of one of the House of Wind’s scarlet-wreathed hallways, thinking only of how grateful you are of your dress’ long sleeves as your left hand rubs your opposing wrist- which throbs with the inevitable purpling of a bruise wrapped around it. Although you know your mate adores when you wear pretty jewelry of all kinds, something tells you that seeing this makeshift bracelet your ex-boyfriend gifted you today in the city would only make your mate’s crimson eyes see redder.

Your chest feels heavy, swirling with a flurry of emotions as you root yourself to the end of this hallway. The sounds of your friends’ voices- laughter- from beyond the grand doorway that stood opposing you overpowered the beating of your heart in your ears, though not the flurry in your chest that leaked into your brain, watering the seeds of your feelings and forging them into thoughts.

Your ex, so unimportant his name isn’t even needed, had ran into you accidentally whilst you were browsing a vendor selling handcrafted bookmarks in the city’s local markets. Once you saw him and made to slip into the crowd in an attempt of avoidance, it was too late, as he was already calling out your name in a tone that began in surprise and evolved into frustation. And when you didn’t look back, worried he wanted to pour his heart out to you, beg for another chance after the wicked ways he’d treated you in your past relationship, he wrapped his hand around your right wrist. He tugged you back, ignoring your sharp shout of both warning and shock as the crowd meandered past you without sparing second glances.

You didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying, your mind already in a frenzied panic as his grip only got tighter the more you tried to pull your wrist back to the safety of your side. His pleading, persuasive tone betrayed the vice-like hold he had on your wrist as he tried to force you to hear him out, hear his babbling of apologies and promises ‘to change’ and ‘to be better’.

By the time you had wrenched your wrist free, so desperate to simply get out of there, your response you threw at him was only a brief shout to leave you alone that came out more shaky than you were going for. Forgetting all your other leisurely plans for the day, you trekked back to the House of Wind, gripping your aching wrist and blinking tears back as you stared at the ground a few paces ahead of your swiftly moving boots.

So now you stand at the end of this hallway.

Thinking.

While your ex himself is old business, the encounter with him had resurfaced memories with him that left a bad taste in the back of your mouth. But they are old memories, you tell yourself to try and convince yourself there is no need to tell Cassian. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, the bruise would heal, and Gods above did you not want to send your mate on a warpath with the destination of wherever your ex lives. As much as you wouldn’t mind seeing he who does not deserve a name get what he actually deserves, you didn’t want Cassian paying the consequences for his actions. You nod to yourself in self-assuring confirmation of your decision.

You’re startled out of your head with the sudden worry you’ve been caught standing and staring at nothing like a lunatic. You glance around to ensure no person nor shadow was lurking, exhaling in small relief as you can’t think of a reasonable enough sounding excuse for your current behaviour. Don’t mind me, just contemplating the meaning of life! You scoff to yourself at your own weak joke, and move forwards until you reach the large double doors.

When you enter, familiar faces turn up to greet or smile at you from their places on the lounge room’s velvet sofas.

“There she is. You’re welcome for babysitting your whining mate, believe me when I say he’s been waiting for you the entire time in here to return from your devastatingly long two hour journey into the city.” Rhysand smirks, joking elaborately in a playful jab at his brother, with one of his hands tangled with Feyre’s in her lap- who sat nearly next to him but mostly on top of him.

“We were just wondering where you were.” Feyre jumps in to avoid the brothers getting into a back-and-forth bicker about clinginess. Her blue eyes twinkle like stars as she leans forwards a little, “So, how much did you spend today?” the female grins, looking too much alike to her mate.

You make your way to Cassian’s side immediately, standing next to the large armchair he was sprawled in rather than accepting his soft invites into his lap. He reaches over to you with both a wing and hand, the former brushing your back and the latter reaching to graze against your fingers. Placing a smile on your face comes easy as you look to Feyre, “Hate to disappoint, I only bought fresh ink and a new book.” you tell her, patting the small leather bag that rests against your hip as your excuse to move your hand away from Cassian’s. One small displacement of your sleeve would leave you having explaining to do, which you really would prefer to avoid.

Feyre whines a complaint in how you need to treat yourself more often to luxuries- as if this family hasn’t done that enough for you- before her attention switches to the male sitting below you, “Aw, sorry, Cassian, am I stealing all the attention away from you?” she teases.

You look down at your mate to see the pout on his pretty lips that elicited Feyre’s joke. One look at him, and you can tell him missing your presence wasn’t actually what was bothering him. Instead, his gaze was focused on the hand you had, apparently not subtly enough, moved away from him. Damn you for underestimating how well your mate knows you.

Cassian’s brows furrows ever so slightly as he looks up at you, a few raven black strands falling free from its messily half-tied state, appearing as though he were deeply pondering something. He looks as though he wants to say something, most likely ask why you’re acting oddly, though instead he rises to his feet and his hand lifts to brush not your hand but gently against your cheek.

Grinning, Cassian turns to Feyre and Rhysand, “Well, call me now the thief of the thief,” he shoots back equally as playfully to the High Lady, “I think we’ll be off so I can give my mate a properly informal greeting,” he jests, wiggling his eyebrows and winking at the two as he stole you away using a large, calloused hand centred on the small of your back.

You know better, though, this is simply Cassian’s way of preventing you from being put on the spot in front of two pairs of prying eyes. Cassian led you through the House of Wind’s corridors, pace slowing to make up for your lack of height in comparison to the Illyrian.

“How was your day, baby?” Cassian asks, his tone too soft for your liking right now. He’s testing the waters, you are well aware, both trying to solidify his feeling something was off and see if you are okay.

“It was fine,” you tell him honestly- well, all the parts without your ex in it. You fail to meet Cassian’s eye, afraid that if you do your mate will see right through you and know for certain you are upset. But this response only makes your mate fall quiet for a beat too long, something rare for the extroverted, energetic warlord. You hear Cassian suck in a breath as you turn a corner, and in moments he’s opening the large carved wooden door to your expansive chambers for you.

Cassian kicks the door shut gently before turning to you. You untie your boots and pull them off before he has the chance to offer to do so himself, and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. To avoid Cassian getting straight to the point and asking if something is amiss, you deflect before anything is sent, “I’m going to go run a bath. The place’s staircase is brutal,” you joke, speaking without thinking as you notice Cassian perk up a tad.

The male looks more relieved in his body language though apprehensiveness lingers in his gaze as he turns to you with a boyish smirk, “Am I invited to that event?” your mate tries.

You know you pause for a second too long as Cassian’s expression falls slightly and he begins to reel back his comment with something with just as much lightheartedness as there was worry for you, “Or shall I leave the lady to her flowery bubblebath and soap?”

You frown and shake your head. “No, no, it’s okay, I want you to come.” Normally, you’d make a sexual joke to lure him in the hot, soapy water with you, but the burden that Cassian will inevitabley discover exactly what is making things not okay in minutes was leaning over you.

“Okay,” is all Cassian responds with, and you inwardly cringe at how clear it is how simultaneously unsure and sure he is that something is bothering you. That heavy feeling in your chest returns, settling back to where it sat in that hallway as now you feel guilty for confusing your mate over such a small, meaningless encounter with a hostile ex. Or so you tell yourself.

It’s as if a tether is attached to that weight in your chest, giving a comforting tug that pulls some of it off of your lungs. You look up to Cassian, knowing that tether was instead that special little string that tied the beautiful bow of your bond. Your mate looks much more serious now as his deep red eyes flicker with concern, though he still speaks softly, “Come on. That bath’s calling our names.”

You stand rather than sit in the large bathroom as Cassian leans over the luxurious tub, hand testing the water as he makes sure it’s set to the temperature you like the most. You make no move to begin undressing, your arms wrapped tightly around you. The bruise no longer throbs as it sits untouched, but you’re still painfully aware of it.

Cassian eventually turns to you, his large wings extending slightly as he approaches you. Seeing as you are still undressed, his hand traces its way around your waist where two of his fingers catch the string of the dress’ corset, “May I?” he asks, though there are no lustful undertones in the warlord’s deep voice, despite him preparing to strip his lover in front of a steaming bath.

You nod up at him, but place a hand on his wrist before he makes a move. Cassian’s gaze flicks to yours immediately. His brows pinch upwards slightly in gentle questioning.

“Just- don’t freak out. Don’t panic. Okay?” you say vaguely, and watch as Cassian’s expression only becomes more worried. “Cassian.” you say, more sternly.

“You’re scaring me here,” he says, your name trailing at the end of his sentence rather than one of his more playful pet names. When you only look up at him with a pleading gaze, Cassian gives in with a sigh, “Okay.”

Your mate commences, tugging the dress loosely ever so gently. You can tell he’s alert as he stands over you, his wings and scent engulfing you as he peels off your day dress. You watch his face closely as he watches your body. Any other day, and you knew what you’d find there- sweet, honey-dripping lust and warm, intimate love as more of your figure is exposed to him. Right now, though, his brow is furrowed, and he’s looking at every inch of your skin, scanning you for what exactly your warning meant.

Cassian gently tugs the sleeves of the dress off of your arm. His crimson gaze looks to your left wrist, and then to your right wrist.

And then Cassian goes rigid.

You never understood how eyes could darken like the ways they were described to in all the books Nesta reads, but watching your mate now- now you fully understand. Leaning over you, eyes unmoving from the splotchy purple markings around your wrist, you watch as lethal anger fills his vision, you see your mate see exactly the colour of his eyes as pure, vicious anger seeps into his blood and runs it cold.

“Who.” Cassian’s voice is low, quiet. You blink at the husky, nearly strangled-sounding word that your mate managed out. “Who did this to you.” he says, his eyes finally meeting yours, and you see that the look in them has changed only slightly- just enough to show you it is far from you that Cassian is angry at.

You look down, your eyes stinging suddenly as tears brim your eyes and you have no idea why. You don’t answer, so Cassian speaks for you, tone low though not harsh towards you, “Was it him?”

You nod, and open your mouth to speak and curse yourself for stumbling over your words, “We ran into each other at the market earlier. He- he grabbed me, Cass, and he wouldn’t let go. I was so scared. I just ran.” you manage, feeling the cool trail of a tear drip down your cheek. The sight of that alone was enough for Cassian.

He curses, stepping back from you as his wings flare. “I am going to kill him. I swear to every God above, he’s a fucking dead male walking.” Cassian growls, both of you having completely forgotten about your planned bath together as he paces the bathroom like a prowling predator, as if he were plotting right now all the ways he’d make that male suffer.

You move towards him then, tears still running down your cheeks as you set your right hand on his arm, feeling how tight and tense the muscles beneath are. “No, Cassian,” you tell him, “you can’t. Don’t go after him, please, Rhysand can’t play favourites no matter what you do to him,” you tell him.

Cassian looks down at you, the fury in his gaze swirling and settling and then slipping away. He sighs, moving his own two hands to cup your cheeks gently. The large male uses his thumbs to brush away your tears. “Okay.” he says, sounding almost reluctant. “But I still can’t let him get away with this. I won’t.” Cassian tells you, his tone stern yet not harsh in an assurance that he would not let this happen to you ever again. He pulls you close to his chest, wrapping both his arms and wings around you, cocooning you in warmth. Cassian strokes your hair, letting you smoosh your cheek against his chest and listen to his slowed, steady heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” Cassian eventually murmurs once your tears have ceased, earning a small snort and then, blissfully, a laugh from you.

“Don’t worry, I just would rather only him being arrested then both of you.” you respond, and now it’s Cassian’s turn to chuckle. He releases you from his anchoring hold. “We can talk to Rhysand tomorrow, yeah? About the political and civil way to get him punished.” Cassian huffs, emphasizing his words in a joke.

You roll your eyes as you finish undressing, “Oh, yes, how very boring.”

Cassian only grins back at you, joining you once you climb into the tub and pulling you back against his chest, one hand interlocking with yours as he frowns momentarily at the bruising. “My idea of killing him is still up for grabs, though,” he hums.

“Cassian.”

#cassian x reader #cassian #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #bat boys #cassian x y/n #cassian x you

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath

Word count: 1577

Warnings: depression, suicide attempt

Part II

At first, I'm sorry for my English. It isn't my native language, so there are mistakes and maybe it wouldn't give sense. Writing this was a real challenge and it showed me my (language) limits😅

For the first actual fanfiction I post here I'd say it's quite dark. I wrote it after fight with husband as kind of distraction. Well, it served its purpose.

Declaration: I write just for fun✌️

One day you were on a way to deliver some documents to Rhysand. He sent a request to the library to look for certain information he urgently needed and when everything he asked for was collected, Clotho asked you to deliver it to him. As the only person who from time to time didn't mind to go out, you had a good relationship him and knew all of the members of the inner circle. You often worked with them and helped them as you knew the library so well as the back of your hand.

Entering the River House you headed to his office. Clotho had sent him a notice of your visit early in the morning, so you knew where to look for him. As you approached the office door you could hear his voice and the voices of two other males. He was there together with his brothers standing around the table with maps and papers on it and discussing something important. You didn't want to disturb them, so you silently walked through the open door and set the documents on a small table right next to the door. Spymaster's eyes met yours for a second as he was the only one facing the door and he noticed the movement. Finding out it's you, as usually, he lost interest and returned to whatever they were looking at together. Rhys noticed his eyes went up and he also turned to you with a big, kind smile.

„Is that the information I asked for?“

„Yeah, it should be all. I checked it several times to make sure,“ you whispered silently, but he heard you.

„Would you mind to stay for lunch since you've come this far? It would be just three of us, Feyre and Elain,“ Rhys invited you.

Your eyes hastily darted to Azriel. His jaw slightly tightened, but you didn't miss that small move. „I'm afraid I need to return back..“ you tried to smile little.

„Are you already going back? Don't you need escort?“ Cassian turned to you too, offering help.

He and Rhys were kind to you and seemed to be happy to see you whenever you met them. Rhys always asked you to join a meal with his family and sometimes you'd accept it. On the other hand, Spymaster has never bothered to treat you with more than a short look or few casual phrases at the best. Even though he didn't seem to be really fond of you, he tended to sit next to you on a sofa or hold a seat for you next to him at the table. But it was a long time ago. Maybe he noticed you eyeing him with interest and that was the reason his behaviour changed over the years from 'I can tolerate you' to 'such a nuisance'. He personally didn't do nor say anything bad to you. But you could feel it from him somehow. You hadn't much of magic in your blood, but you was able to read any subtle signs and understand how people around you feel. That's the reason you stopped accepting invitations and tried to cross his path as little as possible. In the moments like this it was impossible to avoid meeting him and he seemed to be fine with it, paying you minimum attention. But as soon as somebody asked you to join them for a meal or evening, you could feel a slight discomfort from him. You tried to brush it away, but still it hurt.

When you met him for the first time you were afraid of him. As you got to know inner circle better, you learnt there's actually nothing scary about him and that deep down he is a very kind person. His silent, calm and caring nature appealed to you and before you noticed you fell in love with him. You couldn't help it even though you knew you don't have any chance. Masking it as best as you could, you decided to suffer in silence. You knew about his feeling toward Mor and when Archeron sisters entered your lives you noticed his shift of interest to Elain too. You weren't ugly, but there was no way you could compete with such beauties as the two of them. And you were well aware of that. That's why you've never tried to approach him and talk to him properly and after feeling a kind of discomfort from him in your presence, you tried to keep your distance and avoid him.

You excused yourself as fast as you could and turned around to leave. When you were sure that Rhys and Cass turned back to the table, you allowed yourself a single glance to him over your shoulder. His features were relaxed. He was so painfully beautiful that tears welled up in your eyes and the painful hole in your chest got little bigger.

After meeting him you needed some time to calm down and bury those feelings back so deep that nobody could notice them. You were walking around the city till you were sure you regained your peace. And just then you decided to head back to the library.

When you were climbing up the stairs you heard some muffled voices. You've never spied on other people, but this time you couldn't resist it and peaked to the hall to see who could it be. And there you saw them. Azriel stood with his back against the wall, Elain standing on her tiptoes with arms around his neck leaning into him. They started to kiss, slowly at first, but soon enough their passion took over. You couldn't stand it. Tears stinging your eyes once again, you left as silently as possible. When you were far from them and they couldn't hear you anymore, you run to your room as fast as you could. Closing the door you slid down to the ground unable to stifle your sobs. Knowing he has a thing for somebody else wasn't as painful as to actually see them together. It utterly broke your heart leaving you unable to breathe properly. Your life was pretty simple, you didn't have much. Your love for that male and a little faith you held were basically all you had left and the scene you witnessed totally crushed it all.

It took you hours until you calmed down enough to be able to stand up. You opened the door. You didn't know where to go, but you couldn't stand to be here anymore. Your legs took over the control, marching on their own. Suddenly you found yourself on one of the balconies heavily leaning on the railing. You slightly leaned over the edge looking down. The balcony was so high it made you nauseous. You pulled back to the safety. Spending most of the time in the library you've never gave much thoughts to heights at which you lived. You just occasionally had chance to stop and look out the window. Carefully you sat up on the railing back facing outwards. You tried to take deep breaths to calm down, to get through the pain and the shock. You tilted your head back watching floating clouds. As child you spent hours lying in the grass and watching clouds. It used to be so relaxing, but now you felt nothing, except emptiness. There was a bird flying high above you. You sighed. How beautiful it would be if you could fly. You'd took off flying far from this place, far from these people, far from him. What it must be like to feel so free and weightless. If you lean back little more, you could find out. It would be so nice to fly down, to never have to feel anything anymore. You knew you should be scared to even think about such things, but instead you felt numb.

 The bird was getting bigger as it flew closer. You closed eyes and leaned back more and more. Suddenly you felt so light, flying like that bird. Small smile formed on your lips and you stretched out arms like wings.

Azriel was flying back to the House of Wind when he noticed somebody leaning dangerously on the edge of railing on one of the highest balconies. It was strange, but he was tired so at first he didn't pay much attention to it. He looked away just for a moment and the person disappeared. His throat tightened. He immediately plunged headlong down, but he wasn't fast enough. The person was only few meters away from a certain death. He had to winnow. Stepping into shadows he reappeared few foots bellow the person stretching out arms to catch... HER! There was no doubt. It was Y/N. What happened? Why would she do something so horrible? What if he tries to catch her, but she slips through his hands and dies? He'd never been so scared in his entire life. If something were to happen to her, he'd never forgive himself. All sounds of the world disappeared, he could hear only own heart racing in his chest. It took just mere seconds, but it seemed to take forever. The moment her body collided with his, the time had stopped. He squeezed his eyes, muscles tensing, wings spreading to stop their fall.

When he finally dared to open his eyes, there she was safe in his arms, pressed to his chest. He breathed a sigh of relief.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel

[storiesforallfandoms]

more than a song ~ alex turner

word count: 2937

request?: yes!

“hi lovely! i wanted to request an alex turner x reader. just something based off of the song you’re so dark by arctic monkeys. he’s been friends with you for a while but a side comment from his girlfriend (something just like she doesn’t get how they’re just friends) and it’s just snaps into place. ig just him writing the song and moments of them together. maybeeeee him jacking off imagining her on all fours 👀. something like that! thank youuuuu”

description: in which he starts by writing a song about his best friend who is much different than him, and it turns into something more

pairing: alex turner x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (male masturbation), kind of cheating since alex is imagining the reader and not his girlfriend (who will be a made up character, not his real girlfriend louise), also the reader doesn’t really know what alex was doing so idk take that into consideration? idk these warnings are a mess now

masterlist (one, two, three)

It all started with a comment his girlfriend, Cheryl, made.

“She’s so dark. How are you two friends?”

They had just left a night out with Alex’s bandmates and his best friend, (Y/N). It was the first time the two women had met, which Alex was hoping would go well since both of them meant so much to him. They had just barley left the bar when Cheryl made the comment.

It amused him so much that he couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Why do you say that?”

Cheryl gave Alex a look. “Really?”

He stopped walking so he could turn to face her. “I’m serious. What do you mean she’s dark?”

“Alex...she talked for nearly an hour about HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.”

Alex waited, expecting her to explain why that was a bad thing. When she didn’t, he said, “Yeah, those are her favorite authors.”

“They’re very depressing authors.”

Alex shrugged. “I’ve never read any of their stuff.”

Cheryl closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s got a very dark personality, Alex. Like murder of crows follow her around, Addams family’s long lost member dark. It’s just weird to me that you’re her friend when she’s so depressing.”

“Hey, you may think that, but she’s still my best friend. I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t insult her like that.”

Cheryl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe I should be questioning your friendship with her in different ways.”

It was safe to say the night did not go as planned. Alex brought Cheryl home in a tense silence. He gave her a chaste kiss on her cheek before she got out without a word, slamming her door shut behind her.

The night had definitely left a slight strain on their relationship. Cheryl had decided that she hated (Y/N) just because of this idea she had that Alex and (Y/N) had romantic feelings for one another, but Alex refused to end his friendship with her when that wasn’t true at all, and when he had known (Y/N) for so much longer than Cheryl. So, even though they decided to continue their relationship, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing.

But Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N)’s personality stuck in Alex’s mind. He had never noticed a “darkness” to his best friend. She was just (Y/N), the person Alex had known since they were kids. But now he was thinking about the things she liked, and the way she acted and just her general personality. He found himself humming to himself around his apartment; a melody at first, but eventually lyrics started forming in his mind.

“You got your HP Lovecraft. Your Edgar Allan Poe.”

He quickly rushed to his work desk to scribble down the lyrics as they came to his head.

“You got your unkind ravens, and your murder of crows.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he thought of Cheryl’s comment about (Y/N) being like a murder of crows. What Cheryl didn’t know was that (Y/N) had a tattoo along the backside of her left shoulder that was a flock of black birds. They weren’t distinguishable birds, but she often said it was a murder of crows since they were black birds. Cheryl would probably have lost her mind if (Y/N) was wearing anything that would’ve showed off that tattoo.

Thinking of Cheryl caused his mind to wander to the turmoil of their relationship. He looked down at the verse and chorus he had written about (Y/N) and thought about the fact that he was in the process of writing a song for his best friend when he had never had thought about writing one for Cheryl at all since they started dating. Maybe Cheryl was right to think Alex felt stronger feelings than friendship for (Y/N).

He shook his head. No, that’s not it. She’s my best friend since we were kids, and I’ve only known Cheryl for a few months. That’s all it is.

“I know you’re nothing like mine, cause she’s walking on sunshine. And your love would tear us apart.”

Alex was at his desk for nearly an hour putting the song together. He had two full verses and a rough outline for the chorus, but it still needed something more. He was toying around with more lyrics when he started writing, “You watch Italian horror and you listen to the scores. Leather-clad and spike collar, I want you down on all fours.”

“Whoa,” he muttered to himself. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

But now that he had written it, he couldn’t help but picture (Y/N) doing exactly what he had written: on his bed, down on all fours, her ass in the air.

He shook his head. “No,” he scolded himself. “No, stop. This is wrong.”

But he couldn’t stop. He closed his eyes and the image was embedded into his eyelids. He felt himself straining against his jeans as he imagined himself knelt behind her, looking down at her ass in the wear, wearing only a pair of lacy black underwear.

He groaned as he palmed himself through his jeans. The desire was far too strong to ignore. He had to take care of this, otherwise he knew he’d have a nasty ache between his legs that he would not be able to get rid of.

Just one time, he thought. Then I’ll never think of her like this again.

Alex unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them and his boxers down to his knees. His dick was hard as a rock and angry red. He hissed as the cool air touched the sensitive area. He spit on his hand and wrapped his hand around the base. His head tipped back as a moan erupted from his throat.

He closed his eyes and the image of (Y/N) appeared again. Her face buried into the pillow beneath her, moans muffled by the fabric of the pillow. Alex’s dick plunging in and out of her tight pussy, her ass bouncing every time his hips collided with it. He imagined that her moans were as pretty as her regular voice was. Picturing that pretty voice moaning his name caused his dick to twitch in his hand.

The wet sounds of his hand stroking his dick mixed with his heavy breathing and moans filled the room. His mind drifted from having her bent over in front of him to having her sat on his lap in the very chair where he was sat. He imagined (Y/N), still just in a matching lingerie set, pulling him away from his songwriting so she could climb up onto his lap and straddle him. He imagined her pulling the fabric of her panties to the side, a string of arousal connecting her needy hole and the underwear. He could almost feel the warm, wetness of her walls as she sunk herself down onto him, and her lips on his neck as she started to ride him.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “God, that feels so good.”

His desire to have her grew, even though he knew he never would. She was his best friend. There was no way she felt this way for him, too. And he definitely was not going to risk their friendship by bringing these feelings up to her. More than anything, (Y/N) was his friend and he wasn’t about to lose her all together. For now, the only way he’d have her would be in his imagination, and he was more than okay with that.

Behind his closed eyes he could see (Y/N)’s perfect tits bouncing in his face. He squeezed the base of his dick a little tighter as his jerking motions became quicker, almost more desperate. He could feel his high creeping up on him, and he was desperately trying to chase it.

In his mind, (Y/N) was leaning into his ear. In a sexy, sultry voice, he pictured her whispering, “Cum for me, Alex.”

And that was all he needed to go tumbling over the edge. He called out her name into his empty apartment as his hot cum spilled over his hand, lap, and some on his shirt. He mentally cursed to himself for not preparing more for the mess, but physically he felt incapable of fixing it. He let his head rest on the back of the chair as he breathed heavily. When he opened his eyes to finally face reality, he was looking up at the ceiling instead of at (Y/N)’s beautiful face.

There was a slight ringing in his ears as the blood flow from his brain to his dick finally went down. It was loud enough that he almost didn’t hear his phone vibrating on the desk and took him a moment to realize someone was trying to call him. He reached out with his clean hand to look at the caller ID, and his heart skipped a beat when (Y/N)’s name and face popped up on his screen.

Against his better judgement, Alex answered. “Hello?”

“Where the fuck are you?” (Y/N) asked, a joking tone in her voice. “I’ve sent you, like, five text messages.”

Alex pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the lockscreen to see that (Y/N) had in fact tried to text him.

“Hey fucker, what are you doing?”

“Hello? Alex?”

“Quick wanking off and answer me.” (That one both made him laugh and made his heart pound harder against his chest.)

“Listen, can I come over? I wanted to talk about something.”

“I really hope the reason you’re not answering is not what I think.”

“Sorry, I was - uh - I was busy writing,” he said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. “I got really into it and had my phone on silent. Didn’t even know you were texting me. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Well, I’m currently parked outside your place. Can I come in to talk about it?”

He felt his blood run cold. (Y/N) was outside his place right now trying to come in to talk to him, meanwhile he was sat at his work desk with cum over himself after jerking off to the thought of her.

This truly could not be any worse.

“Yeah! Yeah, just give me a second,” he said, quickly trying to figure out a solution to this.

“Alex, I’ve known you for years, you do not have to tidy the place up for me,” (Y/N) said.

“I know, I just need to...I just have to do something before you come in. Give me a second.”

He hung up before (Y/N) could protest any further. He quickly took off his already cum-stained shirt and used it to wipe off his hand and the area around his dick. He threw the shirt with the rest of his dirty clothes, tucked himself back into his jeans, and found a new shirt to put on. Just as he was pulling the shirt over his head, the doorbell started ringing. He quickly raced to his front door and threw it open to reveal (Y/N) stood there.

“Are you done whatever you had to do?” she asked, but pushed past him before he could answer.

“Come on in, make yourself at home,” he teased as he followed her in.

“I always do,” she said with a smirk. “You’re lucky I respect your privacy enough that I didn’t just get that hidden spare key and barge in here before I called.”

Very, very lucky for that, actually.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked her as they reached his living room. “Your texts sounded serious.”

(Y/N) sighed and flopped down onto his couch. Alex sat across from her, leaving a decent amount of space between them. His mind was still reeling from the mental images from earlier that he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to be so close to (Y/N) right now.

But she seemed very troubled, which was very concerning to him. (Y/N) always talked to him when something was wrong, but very rarely did she physically come over to his place to talk about something. He knew whatever it was had to be very serious for her to show up so suddenly like this.

“I ran into Cheryl at the store just now,” she said, looking down at her lap. “And...well...I know she doesn’t like me. I’m not stupid. I know there’s a reason she doesn’t come out anymore when she knows I’m there, and our brief run ins since we first met always include a glare whenever she sees me. Don’t even try to deny it, Alex.”

He wasn’t going to, but his mouth had been open to speak. He wasn’t even sure what he would’ve said, so he closed his mouth again and allowed her to go on.

“I saw her and decided just to try and avoid her. I expected her to do the same. There was really no reason for her to approach me when it was just her, so I thought. But she came right up to me in the middle of an aisle and she...well, the best way to describe it is she went off on a tirade about not liking me and how she wishes you would just stop being friends with me, and even told me that I should be the one to end our friendship so that she didn’t have to stress about me and you anymore.”

Alex’s hands balled into fists on his lap. He couldn’t believe Cheryl would really go up to (Y/N) like that when he wasn’t around. Like (Y/N), he figured that Cheryl would’ve just walked the other way and left her alone since she disliked her so much. But to go up to his best friend in a public and to go as far as telling her to stop being friends with him for the sake of a relationship that wasn’t even a month in was further than he ever expected her to go.

“I thought you weren’t responding because she got to you first,” (Y/N) continued. “I thought she was going to come to you with some made up bullshit saying that I was the one who attacked her or something.”

“I haven’t heard from her,” Alex said. “I guess she’s waiting till whenever I see her next.”

“Listen, I’m sorry that I’m causing this strain on your relationship - ”

Alex reached out to take (Y/N)’s hand to cut her off. The contact sent a spark through him, but he tried his best to ignore it.

“You’re not the one causing any strain to my relationship. Cheryl is. She’s the one who is feeling so insecure about our relationship that she has to go as far as calling you down to the dirt while I’m not around. I’ve tried everything to assure her there’s nothing to worry about between us, but it’s not enough for her. I think...I don’t think I can continue this relationship with her. Especially not after what you told me.”

(Y/N) looked down at their joined hands. In a soft voice she said, “She’s a fucking bitch.”

Alex smiled and chuckled softly. (Y/N) did as well, and eventually, they were both laughing at her comment.

When the laughter died down silence fell over them. Neither one of them knew how to break it, but they didn’t really feel like they had to. Silence always felt comfortable between the two of them. They never felt like they had to speak if they didn’t want to. They could just sit like this for hours and it would be fine.

But their hands were still joined together. (Y/N) was tracing circles in the back of his hand with her thumb, almost absentmindedly. He liked the feeling of her hand against his. He never wanted to let go of her.

“You said you were writing when I came?” she finally asked, looking up at him. “Anything good?”

“Oh, um, I think so? I haven’t really put it together properly. It’s just a couple verses and a chorus that I have to finish.”

“Can I hear it? Or see what you have written, at least?”

His face burned at the question. He knew he was definitely blushing by the way that a confused look creeped on (Y/N)’s face. How did he show her this song, which was clearly about her and included a line about wanting to fuck her, and not absolutely ruin their friendship in this moment?

“I-I guess, if-if you wanted to,” he stuttered. “But, um...it’s...it’s a little embarrassing because...well, you were my muse for it.”

Her face seemed to brighten. “Really? You were writing about me?”

“Yeah. There’s some lyrics...well, you’d know it was about you the song is released so I guess there’s no getting around it, there’s some lyrics that are a bit...more than friendly.”

And there it was. There was no taking it back.

He watched her face, trying to gauge what her reaction to that revelation would be. She was just looking at him for a moment, as if registering his words, before a smirk crept across her face.

“Then show me,” she told him, her voice low and sultry the exact same way it had been in his imagination.

And Alex swore he had never been more excited than in that moment.

#alex turner #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys #arctic monkeys imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[hana-no-seiiki]

can we get to know the perverted faculty in midnight darling?

hoo boy. i was gonna make it a stretch goal to include each and every subject mc might get as a biology major in the philippines but have the named ones for now.

warnings: homophobic society, inappropriate teacher/student relationships, age gap, infidelity/adultery, ageism, voyeurism/exhibitionism, sexual and typical yandere themes. dark content. this is a lot smuttier than all of my previous headcannons oh god.

[previous part] — yandere bad boy/jock, good girl, nerd and president.

YANDERE COLLEGE! FACULTY! X POPULAR GIRL! READER [PANGALAWANG YUGTO / SECOND PART]

ELOISE MORIN - PHYSICS TEACHER

✎ Eloise Morin was always drawn to you. You stuck out like sore thumb in her long list of faces she had to memorize every year and was the only time she ever broke a rule. The rule being to never fall in love with one of her students.

✎ It all started with the pairing of her sister, Ella Morin (The Emo! Kid) with you in order to break her out of her shell. The other faculty members seemed to trust you, and you had perfect grades.

✎ Sometimes your harem regrets always cleaning your record with how much the professors called upon you for tasks, thus reducing your time with them.

✎ And it worked, Ella’s grades improved and the sisters’s home life was better. They started actually talking during meals. She just seemed so much happier.

✎ Eloise soon found out it wasn’t because you were friends, it was moreso that you’d relieve Ella of stress when she acted to your whims.

✎ The woman could never forget the time she caught you eating out her little sister after a study session. In her own damn home.

✎ She was confused. Any responsible teacher and guardian would put a stop to this, right? But she found herself welcoming you in every time. Ignoring your disheveled look after ‘hanging out’ with Ella. Always treating you well so you’d be incentivized to come again and again into her home.

✎ So she can watch you defiling her baby sister as she touched herself to sounds of your moans.

✎Her horny levels are pretty terrible for an adult. Eloise was brought up to be a stout, pious woman. Never to have any sexual relations before marriage, much less the same gender. She was never attracted to the men around her and through you she finally knew why.

✎ She has yet to explore her likes and dislikes but what she does know is that merely seeing you gets her absolutely dripping in arousal. She fantasizes day in and out about what you could do to her and where you could do it.

✎On her sister’s bed? The Kitchen counter as she cooked dinner for you whenever you stayed for the night? In front of the class as she teaches? On the desk of that damn principal that kept creeping on you?

✎The only thing stopping her from pouncing on you is guilt. Guilt that she’s attracted to a person much younger than her. A woman no less. What would her parents think? Sure, they’re dead. But Eloise can still imagine the disappointment they’d show if she gave into these lustful urges.

✎What Popular! Reader thinks of her : Like many of your teachers and fellow students. You see her as a means to an end. However, unlike the rest of them, Eloise does interest you the most. You’re waiting to see the moment she snaps. Ready to taint her with your colors.

AMELIA YORKSHIRE - LINGUISTICS TEACHER

✎ Amelia is the eldest teacher in the staff list. She’s a triple divorcee with a child from each husband.

✎ She craves male approval and used to work with Ricardo to bring you down a peg. Before you came in, she was known to harass her male students and show a little too much skin that it was unprofessional at best.

✎ She quickly switched to the other side after a private one-on-one exam with you.

✎ Not only did you get a perfect score in that test, you also managed to give her a better orgasm than all her husbands combined.

✎Also uses her family to get you closer. This time more intentionally. C’mon don’t you just love children? Aren’t hers the cutest?

✎She doesn’t make it discreet when it comes to her more perverted side. Often shoving her cleavage to your face when in class.

✎Tried using another student to make you jealous and that only made you turned off.

✎Is currently desperately trying to earn your attention back. At this point she might as well wear nothing to school.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of her: You aren’t the type to slut shame. That would be quite hypocritical of you to do. But a professor obviously perving on her students was kind of baffling. She left little to the imagination, so after your first romp with Amelia you basically never touched her again. Unknowingly making her obsession worse.

✎ Hers was a minor subject anyways, so you didn’t put that much effort into humoring her. She was a great fuck though.

MARX ESGUERRA - BIOLOGY TEACHER

✎ Now Marx was a different story entirely. Unlike your more lowkey teasing with Eloise and disinterest with Amelia. It was well-known throughout the campus of your interest with the Biology teacher.

✎ It took a while to get into his pants. Marx was known to be even worse than Eloise when it came to how strict he was with himself and his students. He was teaching a new generation of healthcare workers after all.

✎ At least that’s what you thought. You didn’t realize it was because he was studying the best way to approach you.

✎ Marx thought of you of you as perfect. He knew what he wanted and what he wanted was for you to stay by his side. Permanently. He didn’t want a shallow connection like you had with Amelia and Justin.

✎ A perfect student like you deserved a perfect relationship from start to finish. And he’ll make sure to give you that.

✎ He expects you to be completely immaculate. He has an image of you that you have to follow. He’ll drill it into your mind if he has to. A perfect man needs a perfect spouse. He’ll never settle for less. He’ll wipe all those filthy hook-ups you’ve made from history. Besides you were just practicing for him, were you not? The rumors about your supposed interest in him do no good to stifle his delusions.

✎ He bumps your grades just a little bit after your dalliances to give the impression that he definitely does not want you just for the sex.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: A total snob. But you do what you must to gain perfect grades and better opportunities for yourself. Even if it means sleeping with that narcissistic man that kept staring holes into your body.

DANIEL CRUZ - THE PRINCIPAL

✎ This man is the very definition of corrupt. He knows of every dirty little secret that has happened in the school grounds and beyond and gets paid handsomely to hide that.

✎ Thus, he’s great at hiding your little relationship with him. From the school and his older wife.

✎ You were his secret as much as he was yours.

✎ You were just so much more beautiful, younger, tighter, than that stupid woman. He only wanted her when he was younger because she looked hot back then but age wasn’t so kind. After she got pregnant with his children she started showing signs of being grotesque so he often brought home other women to their marital bed. He just couldn’t get it hard with her for the life of him.

✎The wife is unfortunately used to his ways.

✎ Ever since you though, she noticed how he brought home less and less different women. Up until it was just you. She didn’t know if it was a relief or a more terrible sign that he’d actually fallen in love with a sidepiece.

✎ She didn’t know how to feel whenever you exited her own room after a night with her husband. A sorry look on your pretty features gave her a mix of anger for you pitying her and relief that whatever her husband felt, at least it wasn’t reciprocated.

✎ Other than his wife and perhaps even children (oh god) however, no one knows of your relationship with him. Not even Ricardo and he knows the most about you.

✎ What Popular! Reader thinks of him: Despite what many thought of you, you viewed marriage as sacred. You only ‘cheated’ on Justin because you didn’t want him to get killed. Once a promise is made it best be kept and treasured.

✎ And Daniel broke the most beautiful promise of them all.

✎ He’s one of the few people you actually strongly felt for. Unfortunately for him, it’s disdain.

A/N : This is the most filthiest thing I’ve written on this blog so far. I need to take a bath of holy water after this.

#hns.txt💬 #hns.ask💌 #midnight darling #yandere #yandere x reader #tw.yandere #tw. age gap #tw. cheating #tw. infidelity #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere ocs x you #yandere x you #yandere original characters #yandere professor #yandere teacher #yandere fic #yandere headcannons #yandere x reader smut #yandere smut #yandere smut x reader #yandere oc smut #smut

[deathlygristly]

Saw this linked on my dash: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5513638/

Saw this sentence: "Important research on empathy and altruism has demonstrated that enhancing perspective taking, the capacity to see a person’s situation from his or her point of view, coupled with enhanced value being placed on the welfare of those who are unfamiliar can override bias."

And honestly it made me think of some reactions I've seen to the kdrama Queen of Tears.

The premise of the show is that a middle class guy met a chaebol (member of a family that owns a giant corporation) woman without knowing her family owned the company he worked for, and they fell in love. They got married, but it turns out marrying into a chaebol can be awful. Plus they had a miscarriage and afterwards his wife internalized everything and refused to communicate or show any emotion, so he felt extremely alone. When she ordered everything in the nursery to be thrown away without consulting him about it, he moved into the nursery as his separate bedroom.

So their relationship is in a really bad place when the show starts, her family treats him horribly, they overwork him, etc. He hates his life and he wants out, and he's trying to figure out if he can get a divorce. But then his wife is diagnosed with brain cancer and he finds out that short of a miracle, she'll die in a few months.

His first reaction to hearing this is to be happy that he'll be free soon. This made a fair few people very upset. Some people dropped the show because of it (which sucks to be them because it's awesome and it's so popular in South Korea that it's getting special episodes after it finishes) and some are doing the anti thing about it and I heard some even ship the female lead with the male character who manipulated her family and took over their company and who threatens and hurts dogs?

Anyway, I'm wondering how much of the whole "anti" mess and weird purity stuff about fiction is an inability to take the perspective of others, even fictional others. Like maybe the people who got so upset aren't able to put themselves in the shoes of someone who's been suffering for years and who finally sees a way out. And yes, of course it's a temporary feeling and he still does love his wife and the show is based on them healing their relationship and coming back together. So yeah, I don't know. Just was struck by the thought that maybe so many opinions on fiction that I find weird online come from people who can't take the perspective of others.

#long post #queen of tears #kdrama

[ironborealis]

"I take Anakin Skywalker as my Padawan learner." The words rip themselves from his throat before he even has time to think them.

He's not cut out to be a Master, he knows this. The Council knows --

"It wasn't even ten years ago, as I recall, that you swore before the Council that you'd never take a Padawan again." Mace's eyebrow rises with skepticism, as he looks to the other council members for the confirmation that he doesn't actually need.

Qui-gon remembers perfectly what he said then.

"Much fear, I sense in the boy -- and long time it has been since the responsibility for a Padawan you have had." Yoda adds, eyeing both Anakin and himself with skeptical eyes.

"The boy must be taught." He insists, digging his heels in, something that only works with the Council a little over half the time.

"We're wandering off topic," Depa announces, breaking off the silent stalemate between himself and his grandmaster. "If Qui-gon is right and he did encounter a Sith on Tatooine and is targeting the Queen, then Qui-gon must go with her back to Naboo." Depa's lips purse momentarily as she scrolls through her data padd. "Knight Muln is an excellent pilot, the obvious choice for your second during the attempt to negotiate between the Trade Federal and Naboo -- but if this is a Sith, you'll need a second much more skilled in combat against other lightsaber users --" The corner of her lip curls upward with pleased surprise that sours Qui-gon's stomach because there are only a few possibilities -- "Fortunately, it seems that Knight Kenobi is available to join you for this mission."

"Absolutely not --"

"Why not? Knight Kenobi is a skilled duelist, and if anyone could help give us an accurate assessment of your readiness to take on a Padawan, then surely it would be your own lineage brother." Knight Kenobi's ability to assess Anakin's suitability as a future Padawan goes unsaid in Mundi's harrumph.

He's not seen the boy -- the man? -- since he left him on Bandomeer, after the boy had helped him defuse the bombs (had offered his own life to help him escape), in order to pursue Xanatos.

He'd sent a message to his estranged master after he departed, urging him to take the boy on as a Padawan, ignoring the fact that his master's own Padawan had fallen only a few months earlier.

It shames him now to think that the fall of Xanatos all those years ago has left him mired in such grief that to this day he feels unready to take another Padawan; yet he had been quick to throw a child at his own master, no matter their strained relationship, whose own wounds at the time were more recent.

"Then it's decided: Knight Kenobi will accompany you and the Queen to Naboo in order to confirm the your sighting of the Sith and assist in defending the Queen." Mace looks pleased as he makes his announcement.

Qui-gon has a bad feeling about this.

///***///

Anakin is frustrated (NOT angry!) and confused, as they stop briefly at Mr. Qui-gon's quarters (so small, so full of green) and the "quartermaster" to get supplies and fresh underclothes for Anakin.

The Council doesn't want him to join the Jedi because he's too old and too angry (too powerful?).

Mr. Qui-gon seems to have summoned an Idiot's Array from thin air by declaring Anakin as his Padawan, forcing the Council to accept him.

The Council has decided upon adding yet another test, for both him and Mr. Qui-Gon, involving a brother of Mr. Qui-gon's -- even though Jedi aren't supposed to have families...

He'd ask Mr. Qui-gon, but the man is in a mood that Anakin knows from hard experience to avoid in Masters. Whether that rule also applies to Jedi Masters Anakin is unsure and not eager to find out.

When they arrive at the dock where the Queen's ship is moored, there is only a Jedi standing stiffly in front of the gangplank. This must be Knight Kenobi.

Knight Kenobi appears human, and seems to present as male. His hair is much lighter than Qui-gon's, a dark sand-like color with a red tinge that hangs around his chin. He's short -- at least compared to Mr. Qui-gon who is very tall. His face is rounder and his eyes much grayer than Mr. Qui-gon. Some of that may be because Knight Kenobi is so much younger than Mr. Qui-gon -- like at least half his age.

They must have different fathers.

"Master Jinn," Knight Kenobi bows to Mr. Qui-Gon, and Mr. Qui-gon makes a face like he just took a drink of black melon milk as he nods in response. "Mr. Skywalker," Knight Kenobi turns and gives him a smaller box.

Anakin doesn't know what is stranger -- being called 'mister' or be *bowed* to of all the things.

"Knight Kenobi." Anakin makes a clumsy attempt at the bow Knight Kenobi gave Mr. Qui-gon. It's not like a slave's bow at all - the Jedi bow is all straight lines and sharp angles instead of the curved back and hunched shoulders that he's used to. It feels so unnatural.

When he comes back up there's a sparkle in Knight Kenobi's eyes, like he might be laughing at Anakin -- but as much as Anakin would like to tell him off, he knows that his future with the Jedi will depend on gaining Knight Kenobi's good opinion, so he'll hold his tongue.

"You and Mr. Qui-gon are brothers?" Slips out of his mouth instead before Anakin can stop it.

"Yes," Knight Kenobi says, at the same time Mr. Qui-gon says, "No."

Mr. Qui-gon gives Knight Kenobi a hard look before he marches up the gangplank and disappears into the ship. Anakin knows he should follow the man, but frustration (...and anger?) he feels from Mr. Qui-gon make him freeze in place instead.

He's been so busy worried about impressing the Council and now Knight Kenobi, that he's never considered what might happen to him if he upsets Mr. Qui-gon. Can a Jedi Master reject a Padawan?

Knight Kenobi has turned his head to watch Mr. Qui-gon leave. Then he, shockingly, crouches down until he's at eye level with Anakin. There's a slight smile Knight Kenobi's lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes, which are hard to read but maybe look sad?

"It's complicated; nothing for you to be concerned with." Knight Kenobi says.

The man stands back up, his grin growing a bit broader, a bit faker.

"Now, as we are the last two to board, we had best hurry before the Queen and Miss Padmé decide to leave us behind," Knight Kenobi's voice is cheerful as he steps to stand alongside Anakin and gestures towards the gangplank.

Padmé would never leave him behind. He's not so sure about Knight Kenobi though.

Knight Kenobi lets out a soft snort that's almost like laughter -- but Anakin is sure he didn't say anything this time -- can the Jedi really read minds?

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars au #star wars fanfiction #the phantom menace au #lineage cousins au #count dooku #dooku is Obi-Wan's master au #what if I made the disaster lineage even more complicated #star wars fanfic #disaster lineage #courtesy of that one post that points out Obi-Wan under Dooku's tutelage would be 3x bitchier #give even fewer fucks

[doglikegod]

I would love to learn what it means to be a real man

trying to do it alone can be tough and it's so much easier when you just have to do as your told

for starters, seeking out advice on becoming a real man is a solid first step. that shit takes some serious balls. you’ve already started.

becoming a man is about gaining confidence in yourself. don’t make yourself smaller, don’t try to take up less space. be as unapologetically yourself as you want. cis people, and even some fellow trans people, won’t be comfortable with you being confident and secure in yourself, but fuck em. you exist for yourself, not anyone else.

becoming a man is also about presenting in a way that makes you feel powerful and enhances that confidence. if you haven’t tried wearing men’s clothes, get a couple things from a thrift store or hand-me-downs from a friend. try them on, wear them to a store. get a pack of boxers briefs and pin a rolled up sock to the front pouch. that’s your dick now—wear it as much as you can, even outside of boymode.

if you’ve already done all that, make sure the clothes you wear fit your personal style, whatever that may be. punk? jock? guy that works at geek squad? make sure the outside matches the inside.

start manspreading in public. sit with your legs shoulder width apart. it’ll be easier if you’re packing. it’ll be even easier when you start t—you’d be too sensitive to do anything else.

stop giving a shit about your height if you’re below the male average. tons of short guys exist and are hot as fuck because they own it. josh hutcherson is like 5’5 and tons of people think he’s sexy. part of that is because he doesn’t come off as insecure.

apologize less. be polite to people that deserve it, but don’t be subservient. dont apologize for asking questions, don’t apologize for correcting someone, don’t apologize for existing. don’t be afraid to be a bit abrasive, even.

try out more masculine hobbies. you don’t have to abandon any “girly” hobbies you may have—it’s 2024, men can knit. try out woodworking or shooting or fishing or computer building or working on cars or even growing chili peppers. ask your male friends what they do for fun and try it out for yourself. if you have a good relationship with your dad or any other male family member, ask him to teach you. if you don’t have someone irl to teach you something, pick a hobby you’ve always wanted to try out but were too scared to, and watch youtube videos on it. even if you don’t end up loving it, you’ve stepped out of your comfort zone, which is a big accomplishment in itself, and you might’ve even had a nice bonding experience with someone.

look into how to get t, and then do it, if you haven’t already. find a trans clinic in your area, go to planned parenthood if you’re in the states, hell even do diy if you need to. if you’re in an area where it’s unsafe to start t—especially florida jfc—work your ass off to get out of there as soon as possible.

start jacking off and fucking more like a man. stroke your dick instead of rubbing your clit. get a strap on and jerk that off. repeat, “i’m a man” to yourself on every stroke. try pumping your dick. picture yourself topping. actually top. experience your sexuality as something beyond cis society’s expectations for a “woman”—because you never were a woman, so why should you fuck like one?

if you’re scared to do something that’ll help yourself transition, ask yourself “why does this scare me?” and decide if your fears are as big as they seem. many things that seem daunting about transitioning aren’t actually bad, and sometimes end up being fucking awesome.

it’s not going to be easy and it’s definitely not going to be easier than “staying” a woman, but becoming the man you were always meant to be is the best thing you can do for yourself. being able to look in the mirror and like what looks back at you is the greatest feeling in the world. i hope you get there.

#mail #if there’s anything you want specific advice on my ask box is open #you got this man #forcemasc #autoandrophilia #force masc