#jealous/anxious lovers and idk what to make of it
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Dear diary,
Idk if its cause im demiromantic or if its because of the nature of comic/anime conventions but having things done to me there like dont mean anything to me? Like its just a game? Not saying i dont like consent i super like consent and consent is not what im getting at rn. But like just cause someone gets to sit on their fave charas lap or gets flirted with during a panel or for a photo/vid op (with consent naturally) doesnt mean like i feel anything for them? Maybe its because at that moment theyre not whoever they are on a day to day basis, theyre acting as a character so any attachment/fantasies goes to that character and not them as a person (not saying that i see that person as not a human being and as my waifu/husbando) but its like dress up/pretend. Its all an act and doesnt mean anything in the long run. And even if its smth heart racing or sexually enticing i dont think that immediately translates to sexual pleasure for me i think its more like "im playing a fun game/getting attention!" I dont know. Im really only thinking about this in terms of relationships. Like i think i wouldnt mind a partner asking permission before doing the pocky game with a cosplay panelist but i wouldnt get upset if they didnt. Mostly because id probably know about their thirst beforehand so it wouldnt take me by surprise. But if i decided not to go to con that day, i wouldnt expect them to text me for permission. Disregarding trust its, like, a cosplay. If im that jealous i can put on the cosplay and do it. Spice up the bedroom that way. Its not the person theyre attracted to (i think) its the character. It might be aspects of the person (personality, muscles, voice) but that person is acting - theyre playing a character and my partner is doing audience participation. As a performer, i imagine it sucks when theres little to no audience participation.
This is a long blurb just ranting and openly documenting my thoughts about my feelings about relationships, husbandos/waifus, and cosplayers. Yeah, i wonder if something is wrong with me. Am i the only one who these actions hold no meaning for? Is it bad if they dont hold any meaning for me because its an act? I still enjoy acts like these in the sense of like "im playing the game!" Sort of feeling. In the sense of its all part of an act/performance. If theres any sexual feelings its never towards a person but towards an action. "Wow that person checked in on me after kabedonning me and consent really is sexy!" Or smth like that not like "wow that person checked in on me after kabedonning me theyre so hot they must love me i think i love them" sort of way. Am i weird? This is why i say im kind of dumb when it comes to actions and romance and flirting. If its not explicitly romantic, i dont really get it. I might have a suspicion but ill ignore it since i dont want to make assumptions. And the worse part is, i might not reciprocate your feelings because i never thought about you that way. Back on topic. Shit flies over my head (not because im short). Is this just because im dumb? Am i stepping over lines? I dont know.
Sincerely,
Me
#conventions#dear diary please ignore#just jotting things do sharing things with the void that i dont want tied to my name#ive talked to some of my friends about it and its kind of divided in that “shit like thay happens at con it doesnt mean anything”#as well as “it might not mean anything to you but it means something to me” but some have been upfront about whether its because theyre#jealous/anxious lovers and idk what to make of it
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Idk if you can do this but can you do something like when könig first meets y/n ik it's not much to go off but can you do it? It's fine if you can love your writing
enemies to lovers kinda thing!!! also thank you 💐 i'm super glad you're enjoying my posts :) 🩵;
how did you and könig meet eachother?
könig envied you, the wannabe sniper who couldn't become one because of his size. to make it worse, majority of the soldiers never liked könig themselves because of his strict manner. he'd yell at people for doing things wrong, even if it was a genuine and honest mistake, you were no exception. infact, you were his target.
he expected a hardened soldier who would snarl back at him, silenced as he cut off every attempt to prove yourself right. but instead, there you stood, shaking and trembling and not familiar with the way you were being treated. he swore he could see tears form in your eyes and your bottom lip quivering, he almost felt.. guilty?
you were everything he wanted, a sniper. something he'd dreamed of. you knew nothing about the teams wants and desires and dreams before joining kortac, much to your suprise when he growled at you for the smallest little mistakes, ones he could've made. “nein, wouldn't have made that mistake if i were a sniper.”
- and that's when you realised, everyone who told you that he was jealous, was right. he couldn't help the way his hands shook with anger and jealousy when he saw you training, even if he was a better fit for the role, it would never have been allowed. and he only hated you more when you asked him for help, of course you need help, you're fucking useless, he should've been the sniper.
and he won't bother helping you. one time you asked, tears already welling in your eyes out of pure frustration, him beside you, seeing as he hit every. single. fucking target. he wanted to see you cry and leave the military, this wasn't a place for you. “könig, can you please help me, i'm struggling.” he grabbed you and pulled you from the floor by your neck, like a mother cat would with her babies, yet he wasn't so loving about it..
pushing you back down onto the hard concrete, making you grit your teeth, hiding the pain that came. he knew you would snitch on him, or tell someone who would tell their commander and captain, he'd be gone in a matter of days. that's when he panicked, started getting more anxious before pulling you aside one day, and with desperation in his voice - just like how you were whilst training - begged you not to say or tell anyone.
you contemplated, you didn't enjoy how you were treated, and you didn't enjoy being stuffed into a small storage closet with him begging you. könig fully expected you to shake your head, and tell. you walked away, yet not saying anything. weeks passed and he became curious on why you never wanted to speak, finding you packing your bags and taking off your gear. “what are you doing?” his voice is a mixture of curiosity, and buried worry. he didn't actually want you to leave, the team needed you, a part of him needed you.
“i don't think this job is fit for me, you're right.” your smile is fake and the only reason you wore it was to hide how you were about to sob, not wanting to seem sensitive. “nein, no you're not leaving.” your ears perked at his sudden change of attitude. “i'm jealous, maus..” könig grumbled quietly, embarrassed. “i'm insecure that i can't be a sniper, i just take my anger out on others, i'm so sorry..” he won't meet your eyes, avoiding your gaze knowing he'll feel horrible for telling you the truth. “if you're so sorry, look at me when you say it.” your voice is no longer soft and instead strained, signing when he hesitates, finally looking at you.
“i am sorry, maus. please don't go.” you click your tongue, speaking loudly before dropping your bags. “alright, stop acting like how you do, and deal with your issues and problems like how a sniper would.” you turn back and head into the office, your harsh tone feeling like it cut his heart in half. but you were right after all... your captain was confused but gladly let you stay after telling him a lie, unpacking your stuff and resting on your bed.
knock, knock, knock... your door thumped, just like your heart did, jumping from the bed and twisting the door handle. of course, it was that tall, rude and brooding operator. “i want to make it up to you, will you let me show you how I really am?” one nod was all he needed, smiling and handing you his number.
he took you out on a date, as a friend. but afterwards, you felt like you met a new person, a different man. he spoke to you with genuine kindness, pulling you down onto his bed and sloppily making out with you, sucking on your neck and kissing your jaw. you weren't a friend, perhaps a love intrest... horangi was surprised to see you to making out messily one night, the figure taking up the entire doorway, flashing the light at you before gasping and locking his door.
suddenly become closer to the man you'd once felt anger and sadness to, teaching eachother tactics, finally helping you. a lot of soldiers considered the possibilities and conspiracies of what happened between you two now seeing you both acting like an old married couple.
#orla speaks#könig fanfiction#könig cod mw2#könig#könig call of duty#könig x reader#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x you#konig x reader#cod konig#konig cod#konig mw2#konig call of duty#könig x y/n#call of duty modern warfare#modern warefare ii
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I just wanna say that I absolutely LOVE Butterfly. It’s kinda the only fanfic I care about at the moment lmao I am LOCKED IN. The story itself is great, all of the characters (even the ones everyone hate rn) are interesting, the writing is phenomenal…I could go on and on.
I have a few thoughts I wanted to get out of my head. These aren’t suggestions (cuz it’s your story and I trust where you’re gonna take it), it’s moreso just kinda be me rambling lol:
Sasuke- I know you’ve mentioned he’s going to show up again later, but I’m so anxious to see the role he’s going to play. I don’t really want it to be a romantic thing with Hinata (I am a firm NaruHina lover lol) but I would love to see him be some kind of a protective friend for her? In my head he and Hinata already know each other; like they had some type of group therapy for traumatized teens or after she was removed from her dad’s care she was temporarily in a group home where she met Sasuke and they got to know each other idk. He knows her story and the pain she deals with, and is able to relate in a sense. So he doesn’t want to see her be taken advantage of. Idk, again this is NOT a suggestion lmao just rambling.
Strength- I would argue that Hinata’s the strongest character in the story so far. Even stronger than Naruto. She’s been thru absolute hell and suffers with severe anxiety and depression. The fact she struggles with suicidal ideations and is still making the choice to live is a testament to her strength. I hope that as the story progresses, Hinata starts to recognize that in herself.
Naruto- love the way you write Naruto in this; the chapters in his pov are some of favorites tbh. As someone mentioned before, I too would love to get a few jealous Naruto scenes. Especially since he’s starting to actually *see* Hinata and recognize his attraction to her. I’m assuming that as the story progresses, Hinata will grow into her own person and become somewhat independent of Naruto (like getting her own friends); is that something Naruto might feel threatened by? Since he does have a selfish streak and is immature, I wonder if he would have an issue with keeping Hinata all to himself.
I think those were the main ramblings I had. Chapter 8 is my absolute favorite so far cuz of the cute NaruHina moment we got. I know smut is probably a ways away but I cannot WAIT till we get to it cuz you are one of my favorite smut writers tbh. Anyways that’s all for now. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for us!
Thank you so much! 🙈💕💗so so so happy you're enjoy the fic that much 💕makes my heart do cartwheelssss 🏃🏾♀️🤸🏾♀️🏃🏾♀️💗☺️🫶🏽 and thank you so much for dropping love in my inbox, I absolutely adore you all that do I swear 🥹
Ahhhh, you have some really interesting ruminations🙈
Sasuke- Surprisingly a lot of readers have been waiting to see how Sasuke fits into all this🤭I've gotten some incredibly creative scenarios and prediction from commenters and anons that I've actually added to his role and even moved his entrance up in the timeline😄This is a very interesting scenario and I really, really like it a lot! So many people really want a protective friend Sasuke and I can't say the idea isn't unbearably adorable 💕
Strength- You hit the nail on the head for sure🫡💕Hinata's inner strength is one that's often overlooked, underestimated and underappreciated when compare to more overt forms of strength, or socially constructed ideals of what it means to be strong, and I've really, really been wanting to make a point in the world of fanfiction, specifically the Naruto fandom of fanfiction, that strength is not always aggression, violence and bitchy attitude 🤦🏽♀️ because I've seen, for years now, this narrow, short sighted standard of who is strong and who is weak being perpetrated and it's always, always bothered the crap out of me 😤With Butterfly, I'm hoping to open minds and break molds we've been taught to believe are absolute👎🏽but are actually highly subjective👈🏽
I swear, so many of my fics are 'break the mold' type fics, lol, I think I just like to nay say the nay sayers, ya know, shine light on areas and topics that many may make negative assertions and toxic assumptions about while in reality, know very little about the subject matter at all. I think it opens the door for more compassion, understanding and inclusion ️🫶🏽 and honestly, that's what I'm all about.
Naruto- I love, love, love me a Naruto POV 🙈idk what it is about Naruto in particular since I love most make POV but it is soooo much fun being in his head 🤭Butterfly!Naruto and Prey!Naruto are two of my fave Naruto POV's to write in, both are so much fun in different ways 😄For sure Naruto's gonna have his jealousy moments, he's too hot headed and selfish in Butterfly not to🤭Its definitely not out of the realm of possibility that he'll feel some type of way about not being the center of her attention🤔right now, he's the golden boy, he's got the coveted place at her side, he's got exclusive access nobody else has, losing that, well, he might not be too keen on it🤭although, he's been trying to introduce her to his friends and help her with her speech problems, so maybe he'll take it as a source of pride that he's help her find her confidence🤔that's why I love this Naruto 🤭he really can go either way. Like, on one hand, he can be sweeter than cotton candy, some real tooth rotting sweetness, but on the other hand he can be a selfish asshole making scummy choices just to get what he wants😅he gets tunnel vision, and the only thing that matters is reaching his goals by any means necessary. He's just a really fun character🤭
I super duper appreciate you leaving your ramblings here!! I enjoy each and every one of them!
Chapter 8 is near and dear to me too!! I enjoyed writing it so, so much, the cuteness almost melted my laptop 🙈💕
I cannot wait to do more sweet bonding scenes for them ️🫶🏽 that's honestly why my fanfics be so long, I get so caught up in just enjoying and marinating in NaruHina love 🙌🏽its like a virus I never wanna get rid of 😫
Smut is indeed a ways off, but I can't wait to get to it too 🙈 and tys, I'm honored to be one of your faves💕
Thank you, thank you for dropping by!!! I really loved seeing your ramblings! 🫶🏽
#ask#answer#butterfly#naruhina#ramblings#this was very enjoyable!#so much I can't wait to get to for butterfly!
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hi! i was wondering if you would write something like reader (gn or fem, idk if you want to specify) is jealous and sad because of jon’s close relationship with dany and just like him reassuring them and stuff.
thank you! i love your writing by the way!
before it kills me || jon snow
"Are you jealous?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm afraid. I don't know."
you're jealous of the dragon queen, and it's tearing you up. fem!reader. takes place s8.
Thank you so much for the request! Sorry it took so long!Hope you like it!
masterlist
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You'd always been the jealous type. Not just with lovers, but with friends, and with things, and with luck. When you were a child, you'd stare at the highborn whenever they passed through your village, dressed in silk and plate armor, on shining, well-bred horses. Why them? You would think. Why them, and not me?
At the Wall, you'd been jealous of Jon at first. He was stronger, and faster, and better trained than you-- that is to say, trained in the first place. You'd been jealous of Sam, who could read, and Grenn, who could ride, and Pyp, who could sing. It had faded, of course, and you hadn't let it stop you making friends for too long, but still, it was your first instinct. It always had been.
Now, at Winterfell, after years of fighting, and bleeding, and freezing your ass off on the edge of the world, you found yourself jealous again. Not of someone's skill, or weapon, or training, like would be even marginally acceptable for someone of your age. No, you were jealous of a pretty woman, and how much time she spent with Jon Snow. And it was bad.
That fucking Dragon Queen had you pacing. Pacing, and brooding, and biting your nails, and cursing yourself for all of it. You had more important things to be worried about than the affections of Jon Snow, who wasn't yours to be jealous for in the first place. Gods, when did you even start loving him? Maybe you always had. Either way, this was what you got for dancing around him for years-- you hadn't made him yours when you could've, and now, someone better had shown up to whisk him off on dragonback.
Daenerys Stormborn-- First of Her Name, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of the Andals and the First Men. How could you ever compete with that?
Did you even want to try?
What could you possibly give him that she couldn't? She was inspiring, powerful, and unmatched in beauty. A Targaryen. A gods-damned dragon rider. And you were a bastard girl who cut her hair and became a man of the Watch. Not even a bastard of someone noble and important, like Jon was. Just a Flowers of some Redwyne or Fossoway who's name your mother forgot. Rough, weary, dressed in old black ringmail and scars.
Daenerys dressed in furs and silver.
Didn't he deserve her?
You should have just talked to him. You knew that. But jealousy was an old friend, a familiar pain. It was easy to sink back into. So you let it claw at you for hours, for days, alternatingly ferocious and grieving. It ate you from the inside out and the outside in, made you irritable and anxious and guilty. Distracted. You slipped up on the sparring field. Battle plans went in one ear and out the other. No sleeping position was comfortable anymore, and your jaw ached from constant clenching and grinding your teeth.
Your friends had grown worried. You hadn't let even Davos coax out what was wrong, though you suspected he already knew. You were growing worried too. Fighting the dead would need you at your strongest, and the dull ache in your chest was taking its toll.
You grit your teeth again, and got out of bed. This has got to end. Fuck it if he loved her, if you had been wrong, and all the glances, the stray touches, the so-nearly-kisses that always seemed to get interrupted had all meant nothing to him. At least you'd know, and you'd move on. Or you'd die fighting Walkers, and none of it would matter. Either way, it'll be better than this.
The castle was sleeping, and nobody but a few wandering soldiers were there to pay you any mind. Poor bastards probably can't sleep either. Some bowed their heads respectfully when you walked past, mumbling "M'lady," or sometimes "Ser," though you were not a knight, and lady of nothing but your sword. You quickened your pace.
When you reached Jon's room, you didn't let yourself think twice. You didn't steel yourself, didn't take a breath, just rapped on the door before you had a chance to go craven and leave.
Jon opened the door. Disheveled, in nothing but a plain shirt and trousers, though clearly awake. Your breath hitched. It felt intimate, seeing him this way, out of his capes and his leather, without Longclaw on his hip. His eyes widened, and you remembered your own appearance. Your bare feet, your undone hair, your dressing gown. At least we're even, then.
Jon ran a hand through his hair. "You need something, Flowers?" He mumbled, not unkindly, a tired smile ghosting his lips.
"Do you love me?"
"What?"
You pushed your way into the room. Jon's eyes flared again, but he didn't stop you. "You heard me, Snow. Do you love me? All those times we sat on watch together. All those times you held my hand, and came to greet me at the tunnel when I came back from a ranging, and fussed over me when I got hurt. How you called for me when the fighting ended at Castle Black, and after the Boltons, and how I called for you. Did all of that mean something to you, or did I imagine it?"
His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he just looked at you. Then, his face softened. He took your hand in his, warm and rough and familiar, and threaded his fingers through yours.
"Are you jealous?"
Damn him.
"Maybe." Your voice came out a tremble. "Or maybe I'm afraid. I don't know."
"Come here." He tugged you into his arms, and you found yourself clinging. It had all been so much so fast. All the fighting, the dying, the red woman, the free folk. Ramsay, and Cersei, and the threat of the dead, and the beautiful Daenerys with her dragons. Jon held you as you cried about nothing and everything for a while, rubbing your back and carding his fingers through your hair, murmuring reassuring things that you couldn't hear.
You could've stayed there forever.
But I need to know before it kills me.
With an effort, you stepped back, feeling a little empty without his arms around you, and a little guilty about the damp spot you'd left on his shirt. You took a shaky breath.
"I need to know if you love me, or--" you pushed a sob down, before it could break. Jon opened his mouth, but you didn't let him get a word in. "It's okay if you don't, really-- I just," you offered him a watery smile. "I need to know now. If you love me, or if you love the Queen. Please, Jon. Before it kills me."
You bit your trembling lip for dear life. You would not cry if he said loved her, you swore it to every god you knew. You would not ruin it for him, more than you already had. If he said he loved her, you would smile, and thank him for his honesty, and be done with it.
But Jon Snow didn't say anything. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed, and took your hand, and kissed your knuckles. He kissed your palm, and your wrist, inviting you to sit beside him with a gentle pull. You nearly fell into place. Something about his touch always made you lean into him without thinking. He wasn't magnetic, exactly-- it was something softer than that. More akin to the gentle urge of gravity on a feather.
He held your face in his hands, and brushed away a tear, and kissed you softer than any fur or silk in the world.
"Of course I love you," he said, voice wavering. Tears had made a home in his eyes, just as they had in yours, and the look on his face sent a wave of guilt crashing over you. "I'm sorry you ever thought I didn't. Please, forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, Jon. You know how I get, I--" you paused, trying to find the words. "I'm sorry. I'm a jealous woman, a scarred woman. I have no dragons, and no crown, and no beautiful silver hair or perfect face. I have no name of my own. I have nothing to give you but my sword and my love, and Daenerys has seven kingdoms. Well, she will, I mean. Just-- I felt like you'd abandoned me for someone better. Which is stupid, because you're not even mine to think about that way--"
"And who says I don't want to be?" Jon interrupted. He took your hand, took your scarred knuckles to his lips again. The way he was fixing those beautiful eyes on you, with such perfect sincerity, took every word you'd ever known right out of your mouth. Whatever he was going to say next, he meant it.
"I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine, and I don't want it because of power, or money, or dragons. I just want to love you. Is that so hard to believe, Flowers?"
"You would love a jealous woman?"
Jon laughed. "You would love a jealous man? I can be just as bad as you, you know. Remember when you got to be a ranger, and I didn't?"
That was true, and you chuckled at the memory. "Gods, you're right, Snow. You had on the most sullen look I've ever seen when you watched me and Grenn ride off for the first time."
"And that was me trying to hide it."
Jon Snow took you in his arms again, smiling now, and kissed your brow. When you buried your face in his shoulder, he smelled of linen, and smoke, and something that was just him. Familiar, safe, and gentle.
"Stay with me tonight. I want to hold you." His whisper fluttered over your ear, tone almost desperate, almost yearning. Your heart skipped about ten beats at once, and you shuddered. He's going to be the death of me, you thought, pulling back to look in those deep, dark eyes. He is going to be the death of me, and I don't mind at all. Gently, you pressed his shoulder, pushing him down to lie on his back, with you settled in the pocket of his arm.
He held you, and you held him, and for the first time in many days, you slept comfortably.
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the sellsword's taglist: no one here yet!
jon snow's taglist: no one here yet!
(ask to be added to taglists! 'the sellsword's' is for all of my works on this account. Each character ive written for also has their own separate taglist, if you'd only like to be notified for certain characters.)
#game of thrones#asoiaf#asoif/got#jon snow/reader#jon snow x reader#jon snow imagine#game of thrones x reader#asoiaf x reader#the sellsword writes
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Hey let me just go on a rant about all the mega man robot master fun facts I know real quick
Wind man can’t ride bikes but loves kung fo movies and can cook like a champ
Wind man has a rivalry with air man
Quick man can (technically) out run the space police
Flash is bald
Bubble man is a money spender (he’s love cash)
Burner man gets jealous easily
Magic man is a attention seeker
Astro man is shy
So is Yamato man he is shy as well but he also hates the English language but he admires knight man who is I believe from the UK
plant man gets easily depressed and is very emotional and can talk to plants he also HATES honey bee’s
Wood man loves hiking
Junk man eats well junk
Dust man has horrible bad breath
Fire man is said to be country
Centaur man loves gambling
Guts man is amazing at karaoke
Pharaoh man is afraid of women (not really afraid more just anxious)
Dive man has sea sickness
Crash man is actually quite clumsy because of his no hands and has extreme emotional mood swings
Freeze man is a huge fan of ice man and he also reads mystery novels in his free time
Flame man HATES cheap oil and changes it 3 times a day
Napalm man is actually shy and is friends with cut man
Splash Woman is the only female robot master in the original mega man games
Hard man hates his name because people make fun of him for it
Knight man is one-track minded
Blizzard man has a short temper and a shady personality but has won 3 Olympic gold medals in skiing and is a great meteorologist
Ground man is a deep thinker and not much of a talker
Fuse man is said to have a pet rabbit (although I don’t know if this is canon or not)
Blast man actually has an amusement park
Turbo man is made of wilys car
Half of the robot masters aren’t even wilys he just took them
Gernade man doesn’t like love (he hates Valentine’s Day)
Star man is very romantic and wish he could take his lover to see the stars (if he ever gets one)
Gemini man hates snakes
Toad man hates snake man
Snake man enjoys toad man’s company and hates slugs
That’s all I can remember you guys use this info for stuff idk what to do with it
#megaman#Gemini man#snake man#turbo man#Dr wily#napalm man#cut man#guts man#Splash Woman#freeze man#toad man#star man#fuse man#blast man#ground man#blizzard man#knight man#Yamato man#hard man#Crash man#dive man#centaur man#bubble man#fire man#plant man#dust man#wood man#god so many names#Burner man#Wind man
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my thoughts on jealous Kyou
TW Spoilers
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I just realized a lot of people really like jealous, overprotective, and possessive Kyou, and, though, I guess I did put those elements in OFTC, I myself still struggle to write them. Let me break it down for a sec.
I feel like Kyou has a milder reaction to these feelings. In oftc, I remember his way of speaking to Tan when he's jealous is passive-aggressive, he gets hasty, and he masks more. Generally, Kyoujurou is very good at hiding his emotion and setting it aside since he's often in circumstances where he has to step his personal feelings aside but this also makes him difficult to articulate certain complex emotions such as grief, loss, jealousy, etc. He constantly builds up fire walls (wink wink) to protect himself and give a more confident upfront.
You might think that, oh but he already got over the grief and his last words are all about coping with those feelings, no matter how much it hurts you have to keep moving forward, set your heart ablaze nanana... and though these are good messages but they don't address the feeling itself. Obviously during that time, narrative wise, it's needed, but if we're gonna explore a character and build HCs out of them, you can dissect their words and put two and two together.
I wanted to say this makes him more avoidant than reactive but he's sort of like in-between.
(mainly) Jealousy is often spontaneous or unexpected. Little indirect things that click at a later time, the inertia will grate on his nerves. He will feel bad for not realizing sooner. But also, if there are more upfront incidents (like someone declaring to marry Tanjirou out of the blue, idk), his first reaction is to not get angry but try to make sense of it. Maybe it's less about him having a reaction and more that it takes time for him to understand, which is quite a slip up, and he didn't react enough.
It is said in the fanbook two that it’s easy for him to jump to conclusions but it's not in what people usually think. Though, this is definitely going to backfire him. What I know about this is that Kyoujurou is very smart, he has an “undistorted sound mind” and he’s a fast thinker. This also means that he’s often busy with his own head, and other people struggle to catch up with him.
He seems like he doesn’t listen but he’s very perceptive of someone’s subtle changes. Thus, he can read other people quite well. Not to mention he can interact with anyone without any prejudice most likely because of this perceptiveness as well. But, he has ✨trauma✨ and let me get into that.
Jealousy itself is a sign of insecurity, fear, and anxiety. I feel Kyou will subconsciously find this feeling the most difficult to cope with and thus, sees it as a sign of weakness. He won't judge someone for it but he generally sets a different standard for himself. He'll definitely try to manage them as soon as he realizes it's jealousy, self-talk that everything is fine, but he doesn't like this feeling and doesn't feel comfortable acknowledging it. Esp being anxious and insecure.
Insecurity is what makes him doubt his decisions when he knows his life is often on the line if he chooses a wrong decision, insecurity is what makes his father loathe sun breather/thinks that both he and Kyoujurou will never be good enough/other modern au equivalent of it.
Another thing is, he will try to solve things himself but since jealousy reflects insecurity and he can't cope with it, he will find this feeling petty. Even though, in my fic, I did make Kyoujurou end up acting on that pettiness, he gets so self-conscious about it that he immediately stops himself. Not because he doesn’t want to let it consume him, but more like he’s embarrassed by it.
Of course, different contexts will give different outcomes since in oftc they already establish that they refuse to date. It'll be different if it's canon where I can barely have time to squeeze in a romantic subplot, or a regular friends-to-lovers AU, or an established relationship.
In canon, Kyou barely gets jealous of other people but he'll feel insecure about the uncertainty of their livelihood and it might distort this sound mind of his. Usually, before he met Tan, he knows what he's supposed to do but after what happened to the Kamados, everything is set into motion then bam, the one he loves is coming for Muzan's neck. Obviously, he's starting to feel scared of losing someone even though he trusts that Tanjirou will succeed. No, they will succeed because he can back Tan up or fight Muzan himself as long as Tanjirou is alive. Basically, his mind is used to resort it to survival mode, and he will shrug off most feelings to keep everyone alive. He prefers a rumor about Tan getting confessed by another lower-ranked demon slayer than Tan having to face a Kizuki alone without any aid even though at some point in the story Tan will be as strong or stronger than him. Later on, can also be the source of his insecurity but I’ll just link duck’s explanation about this.
Maybe in a post-canon, there’s more time to think about that. Really funny because Tanjirou decided to move back to Kumotori and I assume, it’s still possible even in a Rengoku Lives alternate end. It’ll be hard to get out of the ex mentor-tsuguko relationship and Kyoujurou has already thought that Tanjirou will just marry someone from the same village, not to mention Shinjurou might mention something about marriage and you know how Kyoujurou is with marriage (though this is more Aya Yajima’s interpretation and the fact that it’s a kimegaku set, since it’s only mentioned in the LN).
But I can imagine him deciding to seek Tanjirou himself for an indefinite time. He told himself this is so Tanjirou doesn’t meet with the hypothetical villager instead of because he just misses Tan so much. By thinking jealousy is petty, thus it should be fine to act on it as long as he doesn’t do anything that crosses Tan’s boundaries, he’s also ridiculing his own feelings.
We’ll die eventually, Tanjirou might die sooner if he’s the only one that gets the mark, I might die sooner if we both got the mark. If I can’t have him, no one can, but also why would someone want to marry a man close to his death?
(me: Kyoujurou, why are you so morbid sometimes)
He thinks it makes sense, though. Imagine him just popping up and not saying why he was visiting just said he wanted to see them (from his message that was sent by Kaname). To him, just seeing Tan and helping him around, unintentionally (or intentionally) playing house, is enough for him. He tells himself he’s content now that his job is done. Senjurou doesn’t have to beat himself up for not being a swordsman and instead focuses on his own passion, Nezuko is a live and has turned into a human, Shinjurou might stop drinking. All is well but life is fleeting, he might as well die with his feeling.
It probably won’t last this long since Kyoujurou can not keep his mouth shut, he’ll blatantly ask if Tanjirou will marry someone before he dies and whatever answer he gives, Tanjirou will soon catch on to what Kyoujurou is truly thinking of said answer. Either Tanjirou is the one that will clear things up or Kyoujurou also catches on to Tanjirou’s true feelings after knowing he got a green light from Kyou to pursue further.
Or maybe Zenitsu and even Nezuko have had enough at seeing them dance around each other in front of their salads so they will spell it out for them.
In a friends-to-lovers AU, I wanted to touch this but haven't had the chance to write them. I feel people are the least of Kyoujurou's worries until time and distance play along. But again, Kyoujurou wanted to be a good friend, his best friend even, and being jealous is just going to sever their friendship. He knows Tanjirou himself will not stand for false accusations and Tanjirou will not hide things from Kyou. I can see Tanjirou being private or down low about his relationship and even if it is the case, that he doesn't know about Kyoujurou's feelings and he has decided to date someone throughout the time Kyoujurou likes him, he’ll eventually announce it (esp since he knows he can trust Kyou) and Kyoujurou will still try to be supportive. I can see him making himself busier to quench the feeling and "not get in Tanjirou's way". I feel jealous Kyou is very mellow despite the lack of expression, and if it isn't for Tanjirou's perceptiveness (and keen nose, probably), he won't catch Kyoujurou's sudden shut out. Basically, ghosting but it took Tan a while to realize it.
In an established relationship, I find that jealousy will be the least of their worries but it costs so much as the relationship becomes even more exclusive. I can see where this is going, (aside from him saying Tengen has too many wives.
Uzui: Don’t yuck my yum!)
Also, because of his family dynamic and current position—as the eldest, the only successor of the Flame Breather, as a son who’s parenting his dad, as a Hashira, and as a senpai—he finds relationship very sacred because he wants to take full responsibility of it. His family's tragedy became his life lesson.
I wouldn’t say that he doesn’t trust people but he often finds himself in a position where there is no equilibrium. People either trust him with all their lives or distrust him.
Then comes Kamado Tanjirou who knows that even someone as excellent and reliable as Kyoujurou is still human. Even in his last moment he defended him. Despite the fact that Tanjirou adores him, Tanjirou knows that Kyoujurou also can get tired, also can get injured, is awkward but caring, was just trying his best, and is very selfless. He trusts Kyou only enough so that he can put some of the burden to himself. It can throw Kyoujurou off-guard and the stakes of this kind of relationship is pretty high. It’s like a one-time chance! Thus the overprotectiveness and the possessiveness.
(Also, I guess it makes sense that Aya made Kyoujurou reject marriage offers aside from wanting to focus more on his current family, he's the type that looks for a special someone)
But also, he can finally learn first-hand how trust goes both ways (and even though he does trust other people aside Tanjirou, he felt at most ease with him). He finds that it’s unfair to demand such a thing even if he thinks that he has done so much for the relationship. If he acts out on his jealousy (in an unhealthy way), he’s denying Tanjirou’s effort.
What’s interesting is that at the same time, Tanjirou might feel the same way. Imagine being younger, a tsuguko, or a kouhai/lower ranked? Not to mention as he got to know Kyoujurou, he can see the difference in their upbringing and social gap. For someone who’s emotionally expressive, I feel Tanjirou will still think that it’s not his place to speak about jealousy even if he gets jealous of other people, especially those that fawn over Kyou. He’s already grateful enough that someone like Kyoujurou feels the same way as him. Which distorts Kyoujurou’s perception of Tanjirou being the one that sees him differently, equally.
To Kyoujurou, apparently, even when they know that they have feelings for each other and that they can rely and trust each other, people can change. Not to mention he’s more familiar with this (Shinjurou). For someone who’s very turbulent, changes still scares him. Maybe because he's more sensitive to it too. He's like a dodge ball, the more you throw the harder it bounces back and he treated change that way. Shinjurou says he should quit being a demon slayer? Then he will work even harder as a hashira! Tanjirou seems to get along with someone who's good at sword wielding? Kyoujurou can do it better! Kyoujurou is faster and he has powerful strikes! Let me teach you, let me show you how I'm better!
Ironic, because I can see because of this, there are more people fawning over Kyoujurou or that Kyoujurou seems married to his career and Tanjirou just felt disposable.
In the end, as the emotions started to pile up, the smell of Kyoujurou's inner turmoil suffocated Tanjirou's lungs while Tanjirou's polite excuses felt like a wall to Kyoujurou and they just can't not say anything about it.
They remember they should always keep their hearts ablaze and not let this negative feeling take their time so they just walk to each other and go, “Kyoujurou-san/Tanjirou, I have something to tell you.”
Communication is definitely their strongest point; but if you want something angsty, it might also be the thing that moves their relationship too soon.
Like for example, an established relationship doesn’t just mean that they’re officially a [insert label]. It can just mean that they know that they felt the same way. Maybe in some circumstances they don’t date the way most people/the people around them do, they don’t act like other marriage couple, maybe they just cohabitate and after they confess, they don’t change their routine or their activities.
(I feel rentan can be nonconforming because they're just that simple even though they have traditional values, I also quite like it when they act very polite and still hold the senpai/kohai or older/younger act because that’s just their way of respecting each other!)
They might still question each other (since again, they often talk) and this constant need of talking might pressure them to draw hasty conclusions esp with Kyoujurou's pace. Even when they were lovers they still have egos and need for autonomy, it's totally understandable.
“what are we doing? didn't we decide...?"
“aren’t we dating/married/together, then why did you...?”
“why do you act [this] when we’re dating/married/together?”
Depending on how things are, I can see Kyoujurou who’s blunt, and Tanjirou who’s sensitive find that they might offend each other or caught in misunderstanding. Having a partner who's similar to you makes you forget that there are differences. Especially through the haze of lovesickness.
This is starting to stray away from jealousy but yeah, this might be helpful with my writing. Let me know what you think or if you have anything to add.
(Also I might write about jealous Tan too if I have the chance)
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rant part 2
and now i cant stop being jealous. or just sad. idk which it is . i am happy for my friends who struggled for so long .
brilliant ginger who killed a woman in a car accident- not their fault but it was traumatic. was the top of our class but couldn't get a job. finally has a wonderful opportunity in a great fucking city and is living their best life. beautiful and just effortless in what they do. a gem of a person who always has time to talk and vent. such a wonderful friend who i could never get bored of talk to. i am secerelty anxious that i bore them. i want to impress them so badly. i hope to god their book gets published
lady d- who finally got to be with her long distance lover and married in a beautiful wedding who passed the bar the day before she said i do to the man she loves. has a great job i want to have. in a great cit.y. and she looked like a goddamn princess on her wedding day. like a cupcake. she had so much fun with her family. she was on top of the world and i am so proud of her.
and my best firend, who struggled in law school but maintained this confidence i was so jealous of. his parents got a divorce and he studied for a different state's bar while moving to that state and did it by himself. he is in such an amzing job and making so many wonderful friends.
and me. the fat fuck who was anorexic in law school and always did fine and now im at th ebottom of the fucking barrel . i am th eloser without a job without a license without a place to call my own. now im here.
i need to redeem myself
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saw two people I used to know at work and I remember disliking one of them back then… tbh idk if since they’ve changed but who knows. I complimented their piercing. The other person asked where im going for college and I told them I had doubts about what I wanna major in and she told me to go for it and even went as far as to say she remembered my elementary/middle school drawings. I don’t even remember all that much but it was nice of her. Shes always been nice back then and even now. It made anxious to see them walk in but despite that the interaction was nice. I should of asked about her and what she was going to do. If I see her again I’ll ask. Since im ranting already I might as well admit that I’ve always been envious of her. It never came from a place of hate just more like dam her life seems nice. Maybe its more than 100% of self projecting but I sort always saw myself in her type of thing. I feel like our personalities were very similar n just overall vibe?? Ig?? but obviously I don’t know her personally and its been way too long for me to even make a judgment like that but yeah I sort of always felt that way. She was popular too Id say and had gotten way more social and comfortable in her skin throughout the years and I always wished that could of been me. But I can’t stand being seen by people it makes me way to anxious and im just used to be see in one type of way. Just as the quiet girl who you used to talk to in elementary/middle school. It makes me feel so weird people remember that about me and could see me now? I was so cringe and was bullied the last year of elementary. Ik its not that serious but seeing people change and grow and take on new things just makes me feel like am I stuck? she also went on to go date a guy I used to really like and they’re still going strong. I remember how much my feelings were hurt seeing them on the grass field and that proposal. They’re cute and I’ve since then got over it lmao. But yeah even now I just stare at outside and look at how pretty the sky is and how much better it would be to hang out with a group of people or even just close friends at that time. And she seems to do it so often with her friends/lover and it just makes me so jealous cause I wish that was me. Had I known work was gonna consume my free time I would of wanted to get out as much as possible when I had the chance years back into my youth. Im also so envious of my middle school bestfriend. Im so happy to see her thrive and have so many events happen for her but its always goes back to fuck I wish that was me. I just know she has so many friends and stories she could tell for days. I wish I was just like her. I miss her so much and it’s honestly been more than ever because all summer long I feel like I’ve just been depressed, reflecting and n doors. i should make more time for my best friend now because will probably wont see each other as much once school starts. I want to go to the beach with her as much as I can.
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a touch of frost.
pairing. park seonghwa x fem!reader.
synopsis. when the lonely prince had his heart broken, a winter so cold overcame the kingdom of arendelle. decades later, the cold remains, the townsfolk wondering when they’ll see the sun again and the lonely prince longing to feel a touch of warmth.
warnings. lovers to strangers to lovers, frozen au, royalty au, soulmate au, jackfrost!seonghwa, prince!seonghwa, immortal!seonghwa, witch!reader, misogyny, a messy magic system but just go with it, blood, death, mentions of war and famine, stupid references to frozen. smut ( dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, possessive sex, jealous sex, description of male genitalia, bulging, marking, praising, nipple play, clit play, a singular example of name calling, breeding kink- it’s seonghwa, wtf were y’all expecting?, thigh fucking(?), seonghwa has a thing for thighs, temperature play but with a fun and new twist, implied daddy kink, basically a bunch of shit that’s getting me sent to hell )
word count. 23.8k
hyde’s input. she’s finally here and it only took a couple of mental breakdowns. there is a moment in the fic where the reader briefly mentions the way male genitalia looks and she speaks not so nicely (i swear it’s nothing horrible) but this is just where i want to quickly remind everyone there is no correct or best way for any of our genitalia (or bodies in general) to look. we all come in different shapes and sizes and that’s more than okay! also, if anyone can guess who the wolf is, i will give you a mf kiss or something, idk.
watch the fic trailer here !
no one knows why the cold arrived.
it simply did, on a day destined to be warm and lively, and the very peak of the summer season. anxious children had fallen asleep dreaming of frolicking in the water down by the beach, just like adults had dreamt of basking in the summer heat. when the kingdom awoke, however, a collective cry of hysteria would ring out as everyone opened their curtains to find the ground covered in a layer of snow.
they were all so quick to call it a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity, a gift from mother nature. they traded in their swimming costumes and sandals for fur coats and woolly gloves, running out the door to play in the snow instead of the sand, building snowmen instead of sandcastles.
by the end of the bizarre day, each head fell to rest on it’s pillow and drifted off into a land of dreams, thinking of how the next day they would feel the refreshing feeling of waves crashing into them.
they would awaken to snow once more.
the kingdom’s people were never one to dwell on things, however, and decided to continue making the best out of this unexpected splash of white that had painted their land seemingly overnight. children of all ages flooded the neighbourhoods, joining together in a harmless fight made up of snow balls and obnoxious laughter. adults crowded together to gossip about the weather and the recent scandals in the land: who’d been caught cheating on who, what couple was having trouble conceiving, the upcoming coronation.
when king park had announced he was officially stepping back from leading the land of arendelle, the people weeped. decades were spent under the gentle ruling of his fist, decades in which the small kingdom had seen itself flourish into something truly magnificent, a nation envied by all those in it’s surroundings. everyone understood, though, that it was his time to say goodbye. the passing of the years aging him and the passing of his wife breaking him beyond repair.
while the people still mourned the end of his reign, they could all feel a tug of excited nausea at the thought of their next ruler, the eldest of king park’s two sons.
on the third day of snow, folks slowly began to grow tired of it. they’d already made it through the harsh winter, which had eased it’s way into a gentle spring and left them craving the skin-licking heat of the summer.
by the time a week had passed and the chill in the air was beginning to strengthen it’s roots, clamping down and draining the kingdom of it’s nutrients, the people began to demand answers from their royals.
they would receive nothing but silence, the castle doors shutting completely and all forms of communicating with them being cut off.
a whole year passed, in which the kingdom had all prayed for the warmth to return, at least come the next summer. it did not and this alone seemed to confirm people’s greatest fear: the cold was here to stay. it was as if summer had died- in fact, that’s exactly what some people claimed.
answers as to why this had happened would vary from person to person.
the scientists claimed it was inevitable. nothing more than a necessary and unavoidable phase of the earth’s life, who had a pattern of dealing with ice ages in the past. the one thing these scientists could never explain was why the cold only affected arendelle.
the religious claimed it was a punishment sent by the gods. angered one too many times, ignored even more, they’d extracted vengeance on killing the crops and forcing the people into a period of starvation. the religious could never explain what arendelle had done wrong, however, given it’s fairly short history and lack of war crimes.
and then there were the myth believers.
if you asked them, it was like opening up a can of worms, filled with different conspiracy theories. some believed a witch had cursed their land, commissioned by a neighbouring kingdom who had grown a little too envious of their flourishing land, while others believed the ancient myth of the son of winter and the daughter of summer, two lovers ripped apart by death.
come the second year, the castle doors reopened at last, inviting it’s people in to discuss the state of affairs and help calm their nerves ahead of the lack of crops. but, as the people feasted on the sight of the throne room for the first time in years, there was a silent yet collective agreement.
the man sat upon the throne was not king park’s eldest son.
even in your dreams, it is cold.
you were only six years old, a child filled with wanderlust, when you began to realize there was something not quite normal about you. the realization hit you in the school playground, as you and your friends struggled to build a snowman. you all began to talk about the dreams you’d had the night before. the next day, you all done the same. and the day after, and the day after that one too.
your friends had new tales every day, dreams of fighting ferocious dragons and rescuing knights in distress. of feeling the sun’s warmth and watching a field of flowers bloom. your dreams, however, never changed. day in and day out, you had retold the same event. you stopped talking about it once you noticed they’d all stopped listening, having heard it so many times they could recite it themselves.
since then, you never told another soul about the dream you were plagued with every night for as long as you can remember.
a gust of wind has you pulling your coat around you tighter as a howl rings out in the distance. somewhere past the rows of trees, buried deep within the forest, you picture a lone wolf. hungry, tired, lonely and crying out for it’s pack. you don’t linger on the thought for too long, there’s still a few steps left for you to take.
the lake is the same as always: uninviting, terror inducing, frozen. though you should already be used to it, you still feel like a frightened little kid each time you come across it.
it takes you longer than usual to rest your sight on the man.
he stands across the frozen body of water, back turned to you like always. if it wasn’t for the black hair upon his head, moving softly with the cold air, you would have guessed he was a statue.
perfect build, perfect posture, perfectly still.
you know there’s no point prolonging the inevitable and take your first step onto the lake. the ice cracks beneath you with each cautious step, the fragmenting lake giving you no choice but to continue forward, towards the tall stranger. turning back will only lead you to the fate of plunging into the water, something you only needed to experience once to know you never want to again.
he’s either taller up close or you’re shrinking in on yourself, it doesn’t make much of a difference when you reach your hand out slowly, landing a soft tap against his pristinely dressed shoulder. you brace yourself for what always comes next, the man turning around painfully slowly and his voice, steady and present and warm when it reaches your ears.
“yeoleum?”
your eyes snap open, the familiar four walls of your bedroom greeting you as your father’s calls of your name ring through the small house. outside your window, the snow falls a little heavier than the day before and you sigh, swinging your legs off the bed and rising to stretch your body.
year twenty one and, still, you awake without seeing the man’s face.
stood within the grand hall of the castle, surrounded by all kinds of noble people in lavish dresses and tailored suits, the air filled with the sweet scents of perfumes and pastries, the finest of musicians gently playing their instruments of choice to give people a rhythm to move to, there is only one thing on your mind.
your corset is two seconds away from crushing your lungs.
this wouldn’t usually be a problem, if you were literally anywhere else in the world. because right now you’re more than sure of the fact you look short of breath, lungs struggling to pull in a breath of air. you haven’t danced once in the whole evening, unlike most of the people surrounding you, who all easily partnered off with lovers and strangers alike. all you’ve really done is sip expensive champagne, nibble on weird platters of food far too fancy for your taste palate and observe your surroundings. there’s always been something about the royal castle that, despite only having been inside of it a handful of times, has felt like home to you. it’s comforting, familiar, warm.
like a place you once knew, a touch you once felt.
from across the room, you feel your father’s eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. he wants you to go over to him, while you want to do the complete opposite because, if you have to listen to him tell you to put yourself out there one more time this evening, you’re more than certain you’re going to commit arson. the fact he’s only encouraging you so much because he thinks it’s about time you be married off only infuriates you more. it’s the king’s husband’s birthday party, for heaven’s sake.
this isn’t husband bingo or the find-your-perfect-suitor gala!
still, you give in to his incessant staring, knowing it’s unlikely he’ll give up without a huff or a groan. the skirt of your gown makes your steps awkward from how much you’re focusing on not tripping over your own two feet or getting tangled in the rich blue material. you’d already slipped and landed on your ass at every other royal event you’d attended, it's about time you put an end to the embarrassing tradition.
though, as you smack face into the solid chest of a man, you find yourself missing the old tradition.
“i’m so sorry! i was so busy focusing on my own footsteps that i must have-” as your mind registers just exactly who stands in front of you, you feel your face pale as the blood drains from it and your mouth dries up all at once. “your highness!”
there he stands, in all his glory, golden crown resting upon his greying hair and a passive look on his face. against his shoulders rests the royal robe, a deep, blood red and carrying so much history, having been worn by every prior king of arendelle.
including his own father, king park.
if you were to be asked to list everything you know about king felix, you would be at a loss for words. because, the truth is, no matter how many historical texts you’ve read nor how many times you’ve spoken to your grandmother about him, there is little anyone knows. at best, you know he isn’t the rightful king. or, at least, he isn’t who was originally intended to take over the throne after his father stepped down. his elder brother was the rightful king, until the cold came and he disappeared, leaving nothing but questions in his wake. your own father, a loyal general to the kingdom, even speculates if the current king is involved in his brother’s absence.
though no one would ever flat out say it, it has been widely believed king felix had killed for the throne.
the very same king felix who is now stood very openly staring at you. his eyes are wide, unblinking, his gaze unwavering from your face. he looks like he’s been faced with a ghost, rather than just plain old you. it takes a few waves of your hand in his face for the royal to finally regain his posture.
“there’s no need for apologies.” his voice is far deeper than you’d been expecting, such a contrast to the polite smile he wears. “i probably should have watched where i was going.”
you want to deny him, to tell him there is no universe imaginable where he, the king of arendelle, needs to make way for anyone. much less a titleless daughter of a general, a daughter cursed by the touch of mother nature. the sound of him speaking again stops you. you’ve already bumped into him, you aren’t about to interrupt him too.
“your necklace.” he speaks with intrigue, a satin covered hand raising in a gesture towards the pendant dangling above your chest. “it’s very beautiful.”
as if on reflex, your hand flies up to grasp it between your fingers and your eyes drift down, catching sight of the familiar silver snowflake. “this? thank you, your grace, but it is just an old family heirloom. it was passed down from my mother.”
he nods in agreement to your words but his eyes hold a certain look of denial. for the second time this evening, his eyes bore into you, staring you down as if you hold the key to some locked treasure. it’s unnerving, even more so than normal because he’s the king. and he’s staring at you like a crazed man.
perhaps madness really does run in the royal bloodline.
“pardon my staring.” so self-aware, he excuses himself. who are you to deny him of his pardon? “you resemble an old friend of mine, that’s all.”
you go to reply but your father’s moving figure in the distance, squeezing between dancing couples and gossiping nobles, piques your interest. it seems he’s taken it upon himself to approach you, rather than failing to demand you go towards him. the only logical next move is to avoid him, no matter the costs.
the king takes no offence as you politely smile, glance once more at your father and excuse yourself to the lavatories, all under the veil of freshening up. then you make a dash for it, almost tripping as someone’s foot catches your dress under it. two tugs and you rip yourself free with a tear in your skirt, sliding into the hallway right on time for the next dance to commence and sweep your father up amongst the crowd.
it isn’t long after that you decide to head home, heels beginning to make your feet ache and corset long ago suffocating you. fearing the walk to you and your father’s house, you’re lucky enough to bump into a familiar family, who live only a few blocks away from you and are more than happy to let you catch a ride back in their small cart. during the ride, they tell you all about how their daughter had danced the night away with a foreign duke and you tell them all a fake tale of eating yourself sick from all the bites of cake you had.
a part of you wishes you could tell them about your strange interaction with the king, from bumping into him to the way he stared at you with the utmost interest, but something is stopping you. it feels wrong to say out loud, like you’re the one making the interaction weird and making mountains out of mole hills. for all you know, the king is just eccentric and treats all his subjects that way. you’d be foolish to think yourself an exception to any rule.
even in your dream that night, you can’t forget the way he’d looked at your necklace.
something feels off from the moment you feel yourself sink into the dreamscape. there’s no blistering cold, no howling wolf, no frozen lake. in it’s place, there is an artificial heat, emitting from the burning fireplace that crackles in the corner of a grand bedroom. the first thing you really notice is how high above the ceilings are, and then the size of the grandiose, white doors that are brimmed by a gold too shiny to not be real. along the white wood lies delicate, hand painted flowers. the four walls that make up the room are a welcoming beige colour, amplifying the feeling of comfort and belonging.
the bed you lay upon is softer than any cloud, your weightless body feeling like it’s melting into it’s softness. a duvet encases you from the waist down, exposing your naked chest. the pillow your head is resting on is warm, breathing, naked. the chest of a man.
you’re so far from that lake you’ve seen every other dream, but this doesn’t frighten you. it feels right, like you’re reliving a memory from long ago.
“come back to me.” a voice calls from above you. you can’t see the owner’s face but you do feel his chest vibrate along with each soft spoken word.
“what do you mean, my love?” the words leave you against your own will, rehearsed and ready from before your conscious even slipped you into the dream. “i’m right here.”
“you’re lost in your own head again.” the man hums in approval as your finger begins to trace patterns on his naked chest. “i told you, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“i know, i know,” it’s hard to not smile when you feel how his own hand tangles itself amongst your hair. you hardly find the time to dwell on the fact this voice, this man is the same who stands across that lake every dream. “but i’m nervous. i’ve never had my portrait done.”
“a fact which is truly disappointing. it’s illegal that no one before has tried to put your beauty onto a canvas.” his hand appears at the level of your eyes and, after zeroing in on how elegant it is, perfect porcelain skin encasing blue veins and sharp nails pointed at the end, you notice something peculiar. a single snowflake, as real as the heart beating below your head, hovers over his palm. “but no worries, we’ll just have to get you used to it, especially now that you’re going to be a queen.”
the silence between you and the man is incredibly intimate as he brings his hand closer to your face. the command for you to open your mouth is soft yet powerful, giving you no choice other than to obey him and let your jaw fall slack, tongue peaking out in anticipation, like you’ve done this a million times before. relief floods your soul as he let’s the snowflake drop onto your waiting tongue, where the cold beauty slowly melts.
“not just any queen, but my queen.” his voice is filled with pride and love, and the utmost devotion, like he’s more than ready to lay down his life for your safety.
his hands are even softer than you expected, clasping your jaw and tilting your head back, your own eyes closing on instinct and welcoming the kiss he lands on your mouth, sighs of contentedness leaving both of you in sync before your eyes flutter open and-
“y/n!”
you fly up in bed, eyes blinded by the sunlight creeping through where your two curtains meet.
your curtains.
you’re awake, back in the disappointingly plain room you call your own, laying upon a lumpy mattress and heated by nothing but your own disgruntled anger. not once have you felt unhappy by the life you live, with both you and your father earning enough to pay your way and live comfortably in your home, but, right now? it’s the most disappointing thing you’ve ever experienced, to live and sleep in this room compared to the one in your dream.
you want to spend more time thinking about the dream and it’s bizarre nature, but you don’t get the chance when your father barges into your room and tells you to get dressed quickly, for no other reason than he has someone waiting in the living room that he wants you to meet. the fact he doesn’t even take the time to chastise you for avoiding him last night, or leaving the event without notifying him, tells you all you need to know.
whoever stands in your living room is more important.
you scramble out of your sheets and pull your closet doors open, reaching for the first dress that appears clean and comfortable. the green fabric fits your torso like a glove, before loosening out at your hips and draping down your body with ease. there’s no overly tight corset or ridiculous amounts of unnecessary fabric beneath the skirt like the dress you’d tore off yourself the night before.
the wooden stairs creak while you make your way down them, alerting your father and his guest of your approaching presence before you can do so verbally but it’s easier this way, because as you take in the sight of the blonde haired young man, chest decorated with an array of honour badges and an expensive looking pocket-watch, you’re unsure you would be able to speak properly.
your father’s next words do nothing but further that feeling.
“ah, y/n! this is who i was telling you about,” he pauses, ushering forward to grasp you by your forearm and pull you down the final step quicker before thrusting you in front of him, just about sending you stumbling into the stranger’s arms. “meet prince taeyong of the southern isles.”
the past two weeks have been filled with prince taeyong’s affection driven actions.
after your less than expected meeting, first thing in the morning, your father had been more than eager to tell you all about the young royal, whom he met while him and his squad of cadets were stationed in their kingdom, serving as aid to them in their war against the northern isles. according to your father, he’d been attempting to introduce you to the prince the night before but you had “gone home earlier due to a stomach bug”, which was code for your father was too embarrassed to admit you’d successfully avoided him the whole evening.
thankfully, the prince had left no more than a few minutes later, his royal duties calling for him.
it would be three days later that your paths crossed again, as you stopped by the military training grounds. it was your routine, every wednesday visiting to watch your father training the younger troops. you’d bring by encouraging words and an apple pie as a treat, though your father had always joked that your pretty dresses and friendly smile were the real treat for the men. you found your father wasn’t alone that afternoon, surrounded by prince taeyong and a few of his brothers.
it had been your father’s idea for the two of you to take a ride around the kingdom grounds together, an excuse to force you to spend time with the prince that had been hidden under the false pretence of him needing a tour of the place, like there aren’t members of arendelle’s royal staff who’s sole purpose is to provide such a thing.
from then onwards, not a day had gone by where the prince hadn’t infiltrated your life in some way. whether he was stopping by your place of employment- a corner shop that’s walls are filled from top to bottom by all kinds of herbs and potions. it’s owned by an elderly woman who always tells you about her youthful days of being a spring witch exploring her earthly powers while doing her best to guide you in your own magical misadventures, despite you being another season of witch.
or if he was coincidentally passing by just as you left to go home for the evening, giving you no choice other than to allow him to escort you through the darkened streets. more than once, he’d tried to drape his expensive fur coat over your shoulders, and every time you’d rejected it by reminding him you’d grown up in this cold kingdom and were far more used to it than him and his southern siblings.
during this time, the prince had also been consistently sending gift after gift to your front door: bouquets of flowers too exotic and colourful to have bloomed in arendelle, chocolates too sweet and expensive to be eaten by you, dresses too soft and detailed to be made by any local seamstress. it all served as fuel to the fire in your father, who was already insisting on telling you over and over how amazing it would be for your family to marry into royalty.
which brings you to now, sat at your dining table and enduring what can only be considered the most painfully awkward dinner of your life.
you’re seated next to your father, with prince taeyong sat across from you and seated next to one of his siblings, who’d very curtly introduced himself as doyoung when you’d greeted them at the front door. the three men have done most of the talking so far, bouncing back and forth between topics of war and politics while you’ve simply picked at your food, finding so much intrigue in the slice of venison resting upon your plate.
it’s either stare at that or risk looking up and making eye contact with one of the princes.
through your listening you discover just exactly how the southern isles are set up. your eyes almost dropped out of their sockets when you heard your father ask about how the other twenty one princes were doing, only for your surprise to be immediately dulled when prince taeyong assured you they weren’t all siblings, but rather cousins.
their kingdom is divided between four pieces of land, each having it’s own royal castle that houses it’s own set of princes. the two princes sat at your table belong to the same isle, meaning they truly are brothers.
“-yet to be discussed properly with the royal’s here, but our own king, lee taemin, certainly thinks it’s a deal that would benefit both parties.” prince doyoung’s voice enters one ear and leaves through the other, your distracted mind not focusing on the conversation.
“then i see no reason as to why king felix will disagree,” your father chimes in, sounding pleased with himself. as smug as the cat who caught the canary. “taking into account our kingdoms long existing alliance.”
“and what about you, y/n? how would you feel about our unification?” that certainly captures your attention, eyes snapping up from your plate to find all three men staring at you intently, awaiting your response.
“what?” you inwardly cringe, knowing your father will be displeased by the lack of manners in your reply.
“ah, perhaps i should do this the proper way.” when prince taeyong’s seat scrapes backwards against the floor and he rises to a stand, every fibre of your being is begging you to tell him to sit back down, to not do what you suspect he’s about to. but you’re paralysed, your heartbeat pounding in your eardrums as you watch him sink down onto one knee and take one of your hands in his. “will you do me the honour of marrying me, y/n?”
the world comes to a halt and comes crashing down, all at once. your heart is jackhammering itself within your ribcage, trying it’s best to jump out and escape. your brain is in meltdown, the prince’s question replaying over and over in your head like a taunt. the snowflake resting on your chest burns your skin, weighing more that it ever has.
everything is wrong.
“yes!” your father answers on your behalf, unknowingly adding fuel to your rage.
the fire burning in your veins is begging to be released, to lay waste to all your surroundings till nothing remains but you and a pile of ash.
your boss and mentor had told you all about this very feeling before, how the summer witches were persecuted for it. every other season of witches were welcomed, needed, loved when it came to the elements their powers were rooted in, yet the summer witches were considered too volatile, too dangerous. it wasn’t completely baseless, as the fire in their magic is so much harder to control than the elements of earth, wind, or even water.
and right now, you’re struggling to get a hold of it. never has the feeling been so intense, the enchantment on your necklace typically enough to help the heat simmer down yet now it’s almost working with the fire inside of you, lusting for the lick of heat teasing at the tip of your fingers.
all it would take is one snap to ignite it, to have the flame dance between your palms and light up anything it touched, including the puny little prince staring at you with expecting eyes and clutching your hand a little tighter. yes, he’d be the perfect first victim, to get your point across of just exactly how this proposal made you feel and to-
“y/n?”
the calling of your name echos in your head, tugging at your self-control and begging you to get a hold of reality. shocking even yourself, you stand up abruptly, not even registering how your father catches your chair and stables it before it can topple onto the floor.
“i...” your eyes meet taeyong’s, who’s looking up at you almost bored from where he’s still kneeling on the floor. how romantic, truly. “i need to use the bathroom.”
you can hear your father’s voice even after you close the bathroom door, sheepishly apologizing and claiming you’re simply so overcome with joy, you’ve forgotten how to act. and so, as the three men begin to discuss the plans for your upcoming wedding, your plan of action begins.
step number one, climb out the window.
thankful for all those times you snuck out to play as a child, you slip out of it in no time, coming face to face with the frozen ground you and your father call a back-garden.
step number two, reach the front of the house.
a little more complicated, with your back beginning to ache as you crouch past the windows around the side of the building, briefly picking up on the conversation still happening at the dinner table. prince taeyong mentions something about housing arrangements but you couldn’t care less.
step number three, flee the scene.
it’s exactly then, as you swing your leg over the horse and seat yourself upon it’s saddle, that the three men come barging out the front door collectively, each reacting differently to watching you charge off on the animal, galloping away from them and their ridiculous proposal.
prince doyoung shows nothing but disinterest, prince taeyong seems falsely apologetic and your father is attempting to scream after you.
you ride blinded by your own rage, not taking in to consideration exactly where the horse is taking you. all that matters is the constant smacking of the hooves on the cold ground, a reminder of how you’re growing further and further away from your father and his guests with each passing second.
the thing is, you know your reaction may seem unwarranted to some. a prince had dropped down to his knees, asking for your hand in marriage. it’s not even like taeyong is unpleasant to look at, with his sharp facial features and his bright hair. his company isn’t bad either, as reluctant as you were to be in it, he still managed to rouse a laugh from you every now and then. but it’s the way your father is so eager, after only two weeks, to thrust you into marriage with a stranger, a man you hold no affection for, all so he can see himself be elevated in status, becoming the father to a princess.
you come to your senses as a gust of sudden wind hits your face, the coldness of it doing wonders to dim the rage burning within you. you find yourself among rows of frost coated trees, deep in the heart of the forest. one hand drops from the reigns, moving to clasp the pendant around your neck. you close your eyes and take two, three deep breaths as you feel yourself take control once more. and, just as your body begins to calm itself at last, the horse pulls to an abrupt stop, neighing as it stands up on it’s hind legs.
you fall to the floor after failing to keep a footing on the saddle or to grasp the reigns. a noise rings in your ear as your head takes a pounding against the forest floor only to watch as your stallion runs off.
undeterred, you pull yourself up onto your feet again. the first few steps you take are wobbly. you hiss as you grab onto a tree trunk for stability, retracting your hands immediately and finding them all scuffed up from your fall. both of your palms are bleeding, with all kinds of dirt stuck on them.
in the distance, a lone wolf howls.
something feels wrong in the pit of your stomach but your head and hands hold too much pain for you to pay it any mind. the muscles in your leg are screaming for rest as you venture further through the woods, passing tree after tree, eyes shifting around for any sign of a wolf.
you come to an abrupt halt, a gasp escaping you before you can stop it, eyes glued on the frozen lake in front of you. the sinking feeling increases and you’re sure, had you eaten anything, you’d be throwing up just about now. you want to think this isn’t real, that you’re actually passed out from falling off the horse and are now stuck in your twisted dream, but the wind is too cold against your skin, the air smells too fresh, the wolf howls too loudly.
his presence is too real across the body of water.
you step onto the frozen lake before you fully comprehend what’s happening, body moving by what it remembers from all those nights. all you really know is you need to reach the other end of the lake, you need to see that man’s face. the cracking of the ice beneath you isn’t something you don’t hear, rather something you don’t care for. you need to push forward, to end the mystery once and for all.
his back is broader than you remember, covered in the whitest material you’ve ever seen, a contrast to the dark hair resting upon his head. just like in your dream, you reach out to touch his shoulder but he turns around before you get the chance.
his face is like no other you’ve seen before, angled perfectly. his lips are red, inviting, like they’re unaware of the blistering cold. his eyes are sharp, powerful, staring back at you like he’s done so a thousand times before. every little detail, every feature, is too perfect, too beautiful to be real.
his lips part and your head begins to spin, knowing exactly what’s coming next.
“yeoleum?”
with a gasped breath leaving your lungs and the wind knocking the air from under your feet, your eyes roll backwards before your head can smack against the forest floor once more.
your corset doesn’t feel as tight this time around.
that shouldn’t be the first thing you notice, really, stood in the familiar ballroom of the royal castle. the ballroom looks more dated than when you’d last stood within it. the marble walls are shinier, newer, but everything about the party is old fashioned. the decorations, the orchestral music playing, the gowns draped on the slender frames of women you can’t recognise for the life of you.
it’s like you’ve stepped back in time.
but your body, and your heart, seems completely at ease as it confidently carries itself through the crowds of waltzing couples. you throw the occasional smile which is met with waves and greetings. as you pass by a server carrying a tray of champagne flutes, you swipe two off of it and storm ahead, out into the familiar hallway. this time, you head down the opposite end of it, finding an open door with a few twists and turns in your path.
you feel confident, despite the unfamiliarity, when you step out into the night. there’s no snow laying on the ground or cold bite to the air. instead, there are patches of beautiful greenery and flowers more colourful than any ballgown sprouting from the soil. there’s a warmth in the air, that wraps around your waist and tugs you along with it. you seem to have wandered out to where the royal stables are located, if the large steeds poking their heads out to stare at you with beady eyes are any indicator.
a particular horse catches your eye, at the farthest end.
it’s the colour of the kingdom you grew up in, white, and you find it comforting. though you know many in arendelle would kill to experience a season other than winter, there’s something unsettling as you stare out at the hills and bask in how alive they are with the warm climate. this white horse is a reminder of normality, of the snow topped roofs and the frozen grounds you’ve gazed at since the day you were born.
you only manage to run the back of your hand down it’s muzzle twice before you’re interrupted.
“he must like you.”
you spin on your heel, mouth ready to speak yet it falls silent at the face you find a few steps away from you. it’s him again, the man from the lake. only, this time he’s covered in a blue velvet suit that’s littered in all kinds of silver ornaments, a testament to the wealth he must possess.
“i know i’m quite handsome, but do close your mouth.” when he got so close, you have no idea, but suddenly his slender fingers- the same ones you watched conjure up a snowflake dreams ago- clasp your chin and gently push your mouth shut. “we don’t want you catching flies, my lady.”
“why must he like me?” the you that’s conscious, watching the scene unfold through your own two eyes, wants to say so much more. from scoffing at the man’s egotistical words to demanding why he’s moved on from not just plaguing your dreams but now appearing elsewhere too. the you of this moment, this dream, this memory, however, had other plans.
“he’s quite a wild card, very picky with those who he let’s close to him.” the man repeats your earlier actions of stroking the horse’s muzzle, to which the steed leans into his touch and you pick up the way it’s tail swishes a few times. “the fact he let you touch him means something. you’d be surprised with the number of serv-” he halts for a moment, something flickering behind his eyes. “people who complain he’s tried to bite them.”
you can only nod and sip from one of the champagne flutes you’d cramped into your hand. the man notices, taking in the way you seem to cringe at the taste of the alcohol, yet still insist on taking another sip before carefully placing the glass back into your other hand and allowing your free one to stroke the horse’s mane.
“are you expecting someone out here, my lady?” there’s an unspoken insinuation behind his words, that current you doesn’t quite understand yet the you from the moment is utterly mortified by.
“no!” you gasp, almost dropping one of the glasses before you deem it best to hold one in each hand. “what type of woman do you take me for, sir?”
“i only jest, darling.” the way his tongue curls over the word shouldn’t light such a primal feeling within you, yet it does, and you’re suddenly more than thankful for the gown that obscures from his eyes the way your thighs squeeze together. “but you do carry two glasses, it’s not so far fetched for someone to assume you and a partner would be meeting out here for some late night rendezv-”
“they’re both for me.” you snap, the fact somehow feeling less embarrassing than having to endure the man’s insinuations any longer.
“ah, i see.” he nods, that irritatingly handsome smile still plastered across his face as he loads up his next reply. “well, alcoholism is a disease. but do as you will, i suppose.”
“has anyone ever told you you’re rude?” the words fly out of you and you suddenly need another sip of champagne, cheeks heating up with the irritation sprung upon you by this man.
“no. i often find myself surrounded by yes-men, you see.” he openly drags his eyes over your figure, drinking in the way the bodice of your gown perfectly rests upon your torso, accentuating the swell of your breasts before the lace sleeves lay on the top of your arm, leaving a barren exposure of your collarbones and shoulders that he’s basking in. “i take it you’re out here because you’re not much of a dancer, then? and that’s why you’re making friends with a horse, rather than planting yourself in the middle of the ballroom.”
“i can dance!” there’s a need to defend yourself, though you fear he enjoys the whine in your voice. “i just don’t enjoy it.”
“i find people often dislike that which they are not good at.”
you’ve heard tales of women, offended by sleazy men or dishonoured by their partners, who throw their drinks in their faces as the final punch in an argument before stomping away in victory. it’s always seemed ridiculous and, truthfully, overdramatic. yet here you stand, gripping your glass so tightly you’re afraid it may snap in two, as you try your best to not wet his expensive suit.
“i assure you, sir,” you grind your teeth as you address him, jaw clenched in frustration for your failed time of peace and quiet out in the stables. “my dancing skills are more than adequate, i simply do not-”
“then prove it.” he cuts you off.
“what?”
“you heard me.”
“prove it? what are you, a child?”
“i guarantee there is not an inch of me that is childish, my lady.” there he goes again with that tone of voice, sending a pool of warmth down your abdomen. “prove it by sharing a dance with me. just one, and then i promise to allow you to return to your hoofed date.”
“i don’t dance with strangers.” at this point you’re just flat out lying, this beautiful stranger bringing out a side of you you’ve never seen before.
“then let’s fix that.” the man wastes no time in plucking the untouched glass of champagne from your hand, clinking it against the other one in a silent toast before throwing back the drink into his waiting mouth. he empties it in one go, pink tongue darting out to swipe the excess of the bubbled drink from his lower lip. “my name is seong-”
you gasp awake.
candles burn all around you, their wax shamelessly dripping all over the place. you have to wonder if perhaps you’ve died and wound up in some form of an after-life, because the bed you lay upon is too comfortable to be your own, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. the fluffy blanket you’re tucked under carries a weight to it, enveloping you in a reassuring hug whilst you’d dreamt away.
the room’s structure is white as snow: the walls, the floor, the ceilings. it’s unnerving, forcing you into an up-right position as your head darts in every direction. the furniture in the room is dated but expensive, made of lots of dark wood and gold detailing.
an urge to stand up hits you suddenly. you push the blanket off of you and carefully place both feet on the ground. in spite of your unfamiliar surroundings, you find comfort in the fact you still wear the same clothes you’d left the house in. while you slip your shoes back on, your mind betrays you and wonders just what is waiting for you back in your home, where your father likely remains awaiting your return to scold you and then plague you with wedding details.
every step you take echos and kills your plan to sneak out into the hallway quietly. there’s no time to dwell on it, however, as your eyes begin to take in the building around you. the floor running through the hall and down the stairs is adorned by a plush royal blue carpet. the ceilings are so high, they could touch the heavens above. the most eye catching feature, by far, is the chandelier that hangs from the centre of the ceiling above.
it’s large and looming, something you’re incapable of ripping your stare from even as you begin your descent down the staircase. while you want to believe it’s made purely out of diamonds and crystals, something feels off. you must still be dreaming, because you can almost swear the chandelier is made up of ice.
the gentle playing of a piano catches your attention as you step off the stairwell. you follow the sound, past the grand entryway and through a small corridor, all the way to a door that lays wide open, as if daring you to step inside. never one to turn down a challenge, you do so and gasp as the sheer size of the empty ballroom. it’s nearly two sizes bigger than the one in the royal palace.
“you’re awake? good.” the man from your dreams speaks from where he is seated on a piano bench, gentle hands no longer traveling over the keys in a hypnotic pattern.
“i... where am-” for all the years you’d spent seeing his face when you slept, never once had you imagined you’d see him in the flesh, staring at you with so much disinterest. it wounds your pride, for reasons you can’t quite understand. “why are you here?”
“uhm, this is my home?” he’s confused, rightfully, but he’s misunderstanding the meaning behind your question.
“no, why are you here?” you emphasize the word as your hands flail around rather embarrassingly. if you try hard enough, you can picture your mother looking down at you from the heavens and sighing in shame of the mess you’ve become. “like, physically. real.”
“you must have hit your head worse than i believed.” his response only angers you, a different kind of anger to the one he’d made you feel in your dream. he rises from his seat and cautiously takes a few steps towards you.
you take one step back.
“stop avoiding the question!” perhaps you’re beginning to overreact, but the tightness in your chest is only growing and you’re becoming more overwhelmed by not just this but the whole day you’ve had. first a proposal, then falling from a horse, and now dealing with the man who’s face you’ve waited your whole life to see, who’s staring at you like you’re a speck of dust: meaningless, removable?
“i’m not avoiding the question, i just don’t have an answer.” the man, this seong, scowls. he pinches the bridge of his nose as you repeat your question, this time a little louder. “look, you hit your head and you’re obviously quite confused. i’ll have my,” he pauses, searching for the right word. you hear footsteps approaching you from behind, the hairs on your neck beginning to stand as you begin to battle between glancing backwards or keeping your glare fixed on the man in front of you. “friend take you back to the town. it’s unsafe for a lady like yourself to travel alone through these woods.”
right on cue, a cold hand taps you on the shoulder. you turn around and your jaw drops open as you stare at the tall boy. his skin seems to shimmer under the light of the room and you think maybe you really did hit your head too hard, because he looks like he’s made of glass or... snow?
“hi,” his voice is far too deep to the childish smile that appears on his face. “i’m mingi and i like warm hugs.”
the only current relief in your life is knowing you aren’t the only one rolling your eyes at everything prince taeyong says.
at the head of the large dining table sits king felix, head adorned by his heavy crown. you can’t help but wonder if it's a show of power against king taemin, who is sat at the opposite end with a much smaller crown. it seems every prince in the southern isles decided the engagement between you and taeyong was a call for celebration and brought themselves over to arendelle in a matter of days, ships filling up the dock.
you father is present too, seated by your side and wearing a smile so wide it might just split his face. after mingi- who you quickly realised was nothing but a child trapped in a man’s body, with how he giggled shyly when you grabbed his hand after almost slipping on a puddle or the kindness behind every reassuring word he spoke to you- had returned you to be border of the forest, and refused to move until he saw you reach the first set of houses laying in the distance, you arrived home to the scene you were expecting: your father waiting for you, arms crossed and face scowling.
instead of igniting a screaming match, he simply told you your engagement ring had been left on your dresser and you were expected to be wearing it as of the next morning. anytime you tried to bring up how unfair the marriage was, or voice your discomfort with how he expected you to marry the prince in a month’s time and up-end your whole life to move to the southern isles, your father walked away and left you talking to no one but the wall.
now, a week has passed and the ring around your finger still feels wrong, as you play with it and try your best to get through this luncheon with the two royal families, all in honour of your unwanted union.
“which brings me to my next point,” you hear the king of the southern isles speak all of a sudden, your mind forcing you out of your thoughts and back into the grand room within the castle. “are there any specific requests you have, felix, ahead of this marriage?”
it’s amazing, really, how everyone’s opinion on the marriage has been taken into account, except for the bride’s.
“now that you ask, yes. i do.” king felix’s voice is far deeper than anyone else’s in the room, matured with age. it sends shivers down your spine from the sheer power it holds. “i would like to request that miss y/n take up residency in the castle, until the wedding.”
the entire room falls silence scarce for you, who clumsily drops your fork onto the ground. you bend to pick it back up but your actions are forced to a halt by your father’s firm grip on your arm and his disapproving eyes.
“i think it’s our safest option,” the king begins to explain when he gains no real response other than wide eyes and gaping mouths. “prince taeyong is a highly desired bachelor, i fear the people may not react too kindly to hearing he has chosen a bride. i believe i speak for us all when i say miss y/n’s safety and comfort should be the top priority.”
if anyone disagrees with the king, they’re thankfully not dumb enough to voice it and soon, once you yourself nod in approval of the arrangement as his majesty stared at you with that same look in his eyes from the ball, the lunch returns to it’s usual flow of mindless conversations of politics and the little spider in your brain starts to spin a web of plans.
the living proposition is something that could completely work in your favour. for starters, you’d get a break from your father’s incessant need to be breathing down your neck at every hour of the day, and there would be less occasions of prince taeyong stopping by unannounced. secondly, and most importantly, it could give you the perfect chance to talk the king into not blessing your marriage. with the king’s disapproval, no wedding would take place no matter how much your father whined and demanded it of you.
hours later, when the unwarm sun slowly begins to set and the guests all shuffle their way out of the hall, king felix pulls you to the side to announce your residency within the castle is to begin this very same evening.
“are you sure, your highness?” your father is quick to interrupt and it takes every bit of self-control to not roll your eyes. “she hasn’t even got a change of clothing, nor sleepwear. how about we return home, pack and she’ll begin her stay to-”
“thank you for your concern, general, but my lovely staff already have that under control.” it’s then that the king looks at you again. his eyes travel down to the pendant and your hand shoots up to clasp it. “if you’d like to bid your father goodnight and accompany me to the room you’ll be staying in, you’ll find the closet is already full. though, you’re more than welcome to have your own things collected, if that would make you more comfortable.”
the only thing that would bring you real comfort right now is taking off the damned ring from your finger. and, maybe, some answers. answers like why the king looks at you like you’re a ghost, why your father can’t take a second to consider what you want, why prince taeyong had to turn up in the first place.
why had your dreams stopped. why had that man plagued your dreams your whole life, only to disappear after you saw his face.
“goodnight, father. i hope the roads are dry enough for you to ride home safely.” you really do mean it. despite his recent behaviours, your dad was still the man who had raised you, who’d been there for you when both of you lost your mother.
he pulls you closer into what you expect is going to be a hug but is, instead, a kiss on your forehead. the same he used to give you every night that he tucked you into bed. you feel him mumble a couple words of affirmation, more than you hear him, before he steps back, bows his head to the king once and follows after the rest of the guests.
“if you’ll follow me, miss y/n.”
you can hardly believe you’re currently being escorted down the halls of the castle by none other than the king himself- and two palace guards who walk a little ahead of you both. it’s like a fever dream, so strange to hear him speak your name and make lighthearted conversation while you both make your way through the lavish castle.
you can only imagine this is what it feels like to open pandora’s box, this insight you’ve gotten into the king as a person. less than a month ago, you’d known his name and his unplanned claim to the throne. now, he’s allowing you to stay in his home and doing his best to take your comfort into all accounts.
lately, he’s the only one doing so.
“the room comes with two sets of keys, which only you and i shall possess.” he explains, holding up his hand. the jingling of the keys echos ever so slightly and you can only giggle at the older man’s antics. “which is my way of telling you you will have complete privacy. if you do not desire to be visited by anyone,” his words seem innocent but you sense he has a certain prince in mind. “you simply don’t have to open your door. ah, here we are.”
once he unlocks the two large, ceiling-high doors and steps back, signalling you to enter with his hands, you swear you could knock out cold.
because there’s a fireplace burning dimly in the corner. because the back of the door is laced with hand-painted flowers and brimmed with gold. because the walls are a familiar beige colour. because the bed looks softer than a cloud.
because it’s the very same bedroom you’d dreamed of the night of the royal ball.
“it’s a beautiful room, isn’t it?” you can only nod in agreement to the king’s question, too stunned to speak. “i thought you’d find it very homey.”
you step further into the room and it begins to hit you like a train, flashes of laying upon the man’s chest, of him feeding you a snowflake, of you both kissing on that very same bed sending your mind into a frenzied state.
if king felix notices anything, he does not care to acknowledge it.
“i’m free first thing tomorrow morning. i shall come fetch you and give you a tour of the place, help you find your bearings in this obscene castle.” he chuckles and you attempt to mimic him, only for the noise to scratch at your throat. “after all, this is your home. from now on, i mean.”
falling asleep that night feels harder than ever before, as you toss and turn under the sheets. at one point, you begin to overheat and kick the blankets off of your body. it’s not enough, so you stand and rush over to the fire, throwing a glass of water over it and successfully killing it. then, you begin to pace the room, mind a complete mess of what ifs and how comes.
when you do eventually fall asleep, it’s from sheer exhaustion, your body shutting down on itself despite how badly your anxious brain wants to keep you up longer.
for the first time since the forest, you dream.
of hushed confessions and whimpered words. of soft touches and hard kisses. of mornings spent under the intruding rays of sunshine and nights of passion overlooked by the moon.
of him and his cold touch.
mingi wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or laugh the whole way through walking you out of the forest.
when seonghwa had burst through the castle doors, with panic laced in his eyes and you in his arms, mingi had been left paralyzed. seeing your face came as a complete surprise to him, in spite of remembering how father jongho had promised you would return some day.
mingi had always thought he’d have to wait longer for that day to arrive.
seeing you, being around you, speaking to you and having to accept the fact you didn’t know him brought him a pain completely unimaginable. the whole time, he’d been itching to tell you about how much he’d missed you, about how miserable seonghwa had been all those decades without you.
he’d even tried to trigger some form of memory in you, with his introduction, but you’d only met his smiling face with disinterest before snapping your attention back to the prince, demanding one last time that he explain why he’d been in your dreams.
alas, things weren’t exactly like jongho had predicted. you’d been reborn but all those years of making memories had been turned to dust.
now, a week later, mingi has tried his best to forget about the small interaction.
his scatterbrain usually dumps out memories by the gallon- a trait which seonghwa has always cursed himself for not perfecting upon mingi’s creation- yet, this time, the memory is stubborn. it’s lingering, swimming around his conscious and urging him to shed a few tears each night, as he lays in his room and tries to sleep.
today in particular, he awakens on both the literal and figurative wrong side of the bed. with not a proper wink of sleep in the whole night, he stumbles down the halls of the ice palace, one destination in mind.
the door slams against the wall as he forces it open, startling a sleeping seonghwa awake. if mingi were his usual happy self, he’d be teasing the older man over how he’d been clutching against this chest the pillow you’d briefly used.
“what’s wrong?!” seonghwa croaks out, letting the blanket slide off his torso as he sits up.
“you, that’s what.” mingi storms over to the bed, not even asking before he sits himself down on the end of it, glaring at his creator. “why are you just sat in bed, doing nothing?”
if seonghwa was confused before, he’s even more so now as his eyes flutter over to the grandfather clock in his bedroom.
“it’s six am,” he fails to sit cross legged and opts for swinging them over the edge of his mattress, a hand smoothing over his bed-head. “what else should i be doing?”
“you should be out there,” the anger in mingi is becoming too much. his head aches, something he didn’t know was even possible. there’s a sense of urgency, like if he doesn’t get his point across and words out now, they’ll consume him, swallow him whole. “wherever the hell y/n is! that’s where you should be, you imbecile!”
it’s now seonghwa’s turn to get heated, standing up from the mattress in a frustrated state. he’s not even sure who he’s more angry at: mingi, for interrupting his rest and hitting him with the harsh reality, or himself for being too much of a coward to admit his icicle of a friend has a point.
it’s not like he wasn’t expecting this outburst at some point. he could see it in mingi’s whole demeanor the moment he returned from walking you out of the woods. the way he wouldn’t meet seonghwa’s eyes, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he no longer wore his smile. everything screamed confusion, because why hadn’t seonghwa just confessed? given you the truth when you’d demanded it from him?
“what would you have me do, mingi? huh?” guilt springs forward when he sees the man flinch from where he sits on the bed, seonghwa’s voice booming with rage. “would you have preferred i kept her here? is that what you wanted of me, to stoop so low i keep a stranger hostage here?”
“but she’s not a stranger,” mingi stands to spit his words in the man’s face, towering over him ever so slightly. “ she’s your wi-”
“she may as well be a stranger!” seonghwa cuts him off, yelling becoming the only thing he can do to hold back his own heartbreak, to stop the flood of tears from breaking the dam he’s built up in his eyes over the years. he can’t cry over this, over you, again. too much time has been wasted on empty whimpers. “the only thing her and my yeoleum share in common is a name and a face. that’s it.”
“jongho told us-”
“yeah, well, jongho was wrong.” his chest heaves with each breath he intakes. his fingertips burn with coldness, the gift nature had cursed him with itching to be unleashed, as if it hadn’t already served to condemn the precious land of his kingdom into a frozen state. “did you not see the way she looked at me, mingi? she looked at me like i was her enemy. or, even worse, a stranger, a nobody in her life. how is that fair? he promised me she’d come back just the same, that she’d remember me the second our eyes met.”
a resounding silence has taken over the room. mingi can’t bare to look at his friend, red in the face and teary eyed. it’s painful enough to listen to the tremble in his voice, seeing it is a whole new level of torture.
with a clearing of his throat and a few deep breaths, the emotionless facade he’s been running around with finally returns and seonghwa finds it within him to compose himself.
“she’s a stranger, mingi. we do not know her, just the same as she does not know us.”
had you ever felt such a desire to punch someone before?
you’re unsure but, as you take in the drunken men around you, you’re more than willing to find out just how good your right hook is.
life within the castle has been interesting, to say the very least. the first few days were an array of trials and errors. taking the wrong turns, getting yourself lost in the expanse space of the building. almost losing your bedroom key, only for king felix to kindly hand it to you before you could make your way out of the dining hall.
the king had given you that tour he promised. he’d walked you through the castle, pointing out room after room, sharing what they were used for. he’d taken you down to a familiar set of stables, but no white horse stood in it. you’d even been honoured enough to meet his partner, chan, a prince from a neighbouring island. he’s a rare sight in the kingdom, often opting to skip out on any royal duties his husband has and, really, you can’t blame him.
who wants to sit still and look pretty next to a king for hours on end?
by far, your favourite room within the entire castle is the library. it’s the kind you step into and it instantly envelops you with a need to escape in some written adventures. most of the walls are comprised of books upon books, stacked within the dark wooden bookshelves. as if that weren’t enough, the centre of the room houses more books, with row after row of them, all with different coloured spines and ranging in age and genre. there’s even a small fireplace at the furthest end of the room, where two red leather armchairs rest.
you discovered it’s a great place to avoid prince taeyong in.
unfortunately, you weren’t able to sneak your way in this evening, with said royal spotting you as you made your way in from the gardens. you’d protested, trying to insist you were much too tired, but he eventually roped you into joining him and his brothers for the night.
“you must be excited to join us in the southern isles, y/n!” a prince who’d introduced himself as xiaojun suddenly appears next to you, his arm throwing itself over your shoulder as the other one brought up the tanker of beer to his lips.
“yeah!” another of the boys chimes in- jaehyun? their names were hard to keep track of. “i don’t know how you do it!”
“do what?” you ask and are met with a bunch of eyes on you, looking at you like you’ve grown a second head.
“survive the cold!” your fiance is the one speaking this time around, joining his family in staring at you.
“i’ve been here a couple weeks and the sight of snow already makes me feel sick.” the tallest, and calmest, of the princes interjects.
“i literally dreamed about feeling the sun’s heat the other day!”
“our weather is reason enough for someone to be dumb enough to marry taeyong, especially if you’re living in this shit hole.”
“yeah, at least that way you’ll be miserable but in the heat.”
the boys seem to be passing around a figurative ball, each taking their shot at the kingdom you’ve grown up in, the place you call home. and, while you’ve never felt very patriotic, a part of you feels the need to defend the land.
to defend the cold that encompasses it.
because, while there are days where the weather outside is blistering cold and nights where you need at least three blankets to keep yourself warm in bed, you still can’t deny the beauty in the snowy hills or the glassy lakes.
“i guess our weather isn’t for the faint hearted.” you shrug, feeling a little smug with how a few of them begin to puff out their chest, scoffing and mumbling about how they didn’t mind the temperature. “must be why the cold’s never really bothered me.”
the only thing that got you through the rest of the evening was reminding yourself that you’d be free of their obnoxious company once you headed to bed. clearly you were wrong, since prince taeyong is now walking you to your chambers despite how many times you’d denied his offer.
he’d been quiet the entire walk, thankfully, though he did insist in linking your arms. it’s a pity, really, that you two find yourselves in these circumstances because, if your father hadn’t condemned you to a loveless marriage, there's a world where you could see yourself befriending the prince.
he’s kind, always offering to walk you places and bringing you gifts each time you meet. he’s handsome, with a perfect build and a chiseled face. he’s intelligent, teaching you all about his kingdom and how their customs differed to arendelle.
but he lacks something, and you can’t quite put your finger on it.
“are you sure you’re ready to say goodnight so early?” he questions you as you unlock the door to your room and you nearly freeze, feeling his arm suddenly wrap around your waist.
“i woke up too early this morning,” the nervousness is too noticeable in your chuckle. “so i’m just feeling really tired.”
“we don’t have to go back to my brother’s, darling.” his hand gives your waist a squeeze before he pulls you against him, nose nuzzling itself in your hair. it’s the most intimacy the two of you have ever shared and it’s beginning to make your skin prickle. “we could spend some time alone, in your room.”
“taeyong, i really don’t think-”
“young man, i suggest you take your hands off of her and take several steps back.” a familiar voice cuts you off, growing louder the more he approaches you both. “this instance.”
the prince pales with fear and you’re finally able to breathe again, hands no longer stuck to your body. your lungs grow lighter the more distance taeyong puts between you both. this isn’t what two engaged adults should be feeling, suffocated by the other’s presence.
“apologies, your highness. i simply got caught up in her beauty.”
“then see to it that you never do that again.” king felix rolls his eyes and that feeling returns to you, that maybe you’re not the only one who dislikes the situation you’re stuck in. but, what could a king care for when it came to your marital state? “perhaps you do things differently in the southern isles but here, we respect our partners. not only do we respect them but we do not try force our way into their beds, before nor after marriage. now, run along before i decide to ban you from my castle.”
you could cry.
in fact, you’re pretty sure your eyes are filling with tears as you watch your fiance stumble back down from where you’d both came from, head bowed in embarrassment and hands in his pockets. like a child scolded, he leaves your line of sight and you let your back slump against your bedroom door, hand clutching the handle.
all you manage to get out are repeated cries of gratitude, thanking the king for getting you out of that situation. for letting you live in his home.
for being the only one caring about you.
“it’s no trouble, really.” his smile is sincere. when he glances at your necklace, you think back to the first time you two had really spoken, on the dance floor. how he’d been nothing but an unknown monarch, an enigma no one could help you decode. looking at him now, with the long greying hair on his head, the small smile on his lips, the sincerity in his eyes, you can’t believe that what the people say is true.
there is no way this man could kill his own brother, not even for the throne.
“your highness-”
“please, call me felix.”
“felix,” you accentuate, the name feeling new on your tongue. look at you, living in a castle and getting on first name basis with the king. “if you have the time, i’d like to talk to you about something.”
“hmm, i’m a little busy this week,” his answer leaves you feeling a little defeated. of course he was busy, how could you assume otherwise? he didn’t have time to hear some poor girl beg him to unbless her engagement, an engagement that benefits him and- “but i have a few hours free next thursday, if you can handle the wait. we’ll discuss whatever you like over lunch.”
with that in agreement, you bid him farewell for the night and make sure to lock your bedroom doors after entering the room. it doesn’t take long for you to collapse on your bed, body freed from the dress you’d been wearing all day and comfortably free in your flowing nightgown.
no matter how tired you are, however, you can’t seem to fall asleep. there’s an itch inside of you, begging to be satisfied. you need to move, to stand up, to take yourself somewhere.
you need to read.
in no more than ten minutes, you find yourself carefully pushing the door open to the library, and cringing when it creaks ever so slightly. you’d hate to be caught in such a comprising position, wearing nothing but a robe thrown over your nightgown, completely bare footed, hair sticking up in a few different directions.
the usual smell of books welcomes you as you light a candle and begin your venture down the rows of bookshelves. there’s no particular book you’re searching for, you just need something, anything, to steal your mind away for a few moments and remind you that happy endings are possible, if you work hard for them.
something glimmers in the corner of your eye and you halt, the candlelight flickering slightly. a book with a wrinkled spine and a faded blue colour sparks your interest and you reach for it, tugging it out of the shelf. the title alone makes you nauseous.
“the tale of yeoleum and gyeoul.” you scoff, fighting an eye roll. “you’ve got to be kidding me.”
you doubt there isn’t a single person, neither old nor young, in the whole of arendelle who doesn’t know this story. so famed, some even believe it to be true.
it had been the first thing you learnt to read in school, a classroom full of children squealing over yeoleum and gyeoul, the child of summer and the child of winter. two soulmates, destined to fall in love since the creation of time, stitched together by mother nature when bearing the responsibility of controlling the seasons became too much. the two of them birthed two children: autumn and spring, a perfect blend between them both. autumn carried more of their father’s traits, while spring took after their mother.
and then disaster struck, when something not even mother nature had predicted happened. yeoleum died- or, rather, she was murdered. though the hand that sealed her fate had been none other than gyeoul, the one to blame was an unnamed enemy, hellbent on putting an end to the abomination that was the summer child. ever since then, gyeoul has stewed in his heartbreak, freezing the kingdom till the day his beloved returns to his arms.
if anyone were to ask you, it's a load of shit. the fact anyone over the age of seven believes it to be true is baffling.
with that in mind, you slip the book back into it’s place and decide maybe you are ready for sleep after all.
tiptoeing your way back down to the door, you’re startled when your foot catches on something and trips you over. the candle flies out of your grasp and the light flickers out, leaving you consumed by the darkness. it’s creepy and spine chilling, and you scramble to relight the candle.
only to regret it the moment you do.
the light reveals what you’d tripped over, an old tarp, and what exactly it had been covering.
a portrait stares back at you, old and frayed at the corners but beautiful nonetheless. it depicts a man and a woman, sat on their respective thrones and with crowns resting at either of their sides. by the clothes they wear, there is no need to ponder on their social status. their hands are intertwined and, even though they are nothing but painted figures, the emotions between them are real, palpable, bleeding through the canvas.
it’s the painting’s title that has you retching on the floor, the anxious feeling returning full swing as you scramble out of the library as quickly as possible, tears threatening to spill.
king-to-be park seonghwa and his wife, park y/n.
it takes three days for you to finally take action.
after slamming the door shut to your bedroom and throwing up your dinner from that evening, you crashed onto your bed and fell into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep. and in your bed you remained for the next few days, wallowing in your own twisted feelings and out of control thoughts.
if your thoughts were stars, then they were beginning to align and instead of bringing answers, they brought more questions.
on the second day, a knock came to your bedroom door and you’d been less than impressed to find prince taeyong along side four other men, who proceeded to serenade you with some cheesy song as the man you were to marry soon held up a bouquet of roses.
he got two seconds into his apology for his drunken behaviour before you slammed the door shut on his face.
at the very least, you thought a few hours later, it had given you a moment to take your mind off the issue at hand. even if it really had been just that: a moment.
because, how the hell were you supposed to just carry on after seeing that painting?
how does one just waltz right back into normal life, acting like they didn’t just find a portrait of a set of monarchs that not only included the man that had been in your dreams your whole life but your own self right next to him, named his wife and everything?!
the simple answer: you don’t.
instead, you lock yourself up in a room for three days before waking yourself up at the ass-crack of dawn, dressing yourself in the most fitting attire- not some puny dress, but a pair of leathered trousers and a long sleeved shirt, all wrapped under a coat- and storming your way down to the stables.
committing horse-naping is far too easy, you decide as you easily hoist yourself up onto the back of the brown steed, hands clutching the reigns before you command it forward. unlike the last time you sat upon a horse, you have a very clear destination in mind.
the forest.
the trek takes longer than you expected, which simply aids you in divesting further into your spiraling mind. the only realization you’ve managed to come to is that this man, seong or seonghwa or whatever his damned name is, is somehow connected to everything.
he holds the answers.
this time around, you’re glad to watch the horse take off, back in the direction of the town. and you, you tighten your coat around yourself and take your first step back into the forest. with every step, you try to recall the path you’d traveled down along side the overly friendly boy, mingi.
as you pass what you swear is the same tree for the fourth time, your plan is beginning to seem more hopeless. you’d been almost concussed when you were in the palace, how on earth did you expect to find your way back there? and, even if you did, you’d likely be turned away at the door.
there’s a distinct feeling one gets when they’re being watched- stalked is likely a better term here.
first, there’s a shift in the atmosphere, from safety to danger. then, the heart picks up pace and the body screams for more oxygen, as if to throw itself into a state of panic. the hairs on the back of the neck stand to attention. lastly, the need to move faster kicks in, that fight or flight instinct taking over with no hesitance.
you have no such luck, to run, for your stalker is already too close, too hidden in the trees for you to make a proper dash for it. the growls it emits are low and serve as a warning and it gives you the chance to pinpoint, more or less, where your follower is.
the growl turns into a snarl as you turn around slowly. a gust of wind smacks into the back of you and you're more glad than ever of the heavy coat you’d slipped on.
you finally spot them, the two honey dipped eyes staring at you from between the trees. it’s big, bigger than any wolf you’ve seen before. if it’s size isn’t peculiar enough, the marking on its fur certainly is: brown fur stained with white over one side of it’s face. at last, your eyes meet the wolf’s.
you begin to run.
faster than you ever have before. each time your foot meets the ground, there is a pounding in your ears and you’re more than sure the sheer force of the impact is enough to shake the floor of the forest.
the wolf is hot on your trail, growling, snarling and snapping it’s teeth and serving as ammunition to keep moving, keep running for your life. you whizz through trees and leap over fallen trunks, glancing backwards at your opponent every so often. when you see the familiar frozen lake in the distance, you don’t overthink things and continue running across it.
completely ignoring the way the ice is cracking under the weight of your footsteps.
the ground gives way beneath your feet and you drop into the water with a drowned out scream. not even the fire in your veins will conjure itself up, the magic freezing alongside every other part of you. the water is cold and heavy, soaking through your clothes and dragging your head under. you flail your arms, kick your legs, thrash your entire body but none of it is useful. in a kingdom where all bodies of water are frozen over, who learns to swim?
you’re drowning.
it’s a sad reality to accept, that your life should come to an end in this very lake, which you’d stared at every night. when you begin to give in to the ache in your muscles, a cynical voice in your head reassures you that, at least this way, you don’t have to marry any prince.
a hand thrusts itself under the freezing water as you begin to shut your eyes and give in to the lake. it tries once, twice, thrice before, on the fourth try, it succeeds at getting a grasp on one of your arms, slowly pulling you closer to the surface and a second hand joins too, both wrapping themselves around your upper body.
you’ve never felt a cold so intense, your soaked body meeting the cool air. but, at the same time, you’ve never felt a warmth so comforting, your body pulled into someone’s waiting arms, head against a solid chest while strong hands rub up and down at your arms, trying to bring what little heat they can back to your body.
“you’re an idiot.” his voice is low, so low you wouldn’t have realised he was talking if it weren’t for the way his chest vibrated with each word. “i told you it wasn’t safe for you to travel these woods alone.”
“at least,” you’re interrupted by your own heaving lungs, gasping to get more oxygen. “i caught your attention, right?”
seonghwa may roll his eyes but you’re both more than aware of the hint of a smile on his face.
it’s alarming how easily your body melts into the warmth his body is providing you with, fingers cramping up as they grip his cloak and you force yourself closer to him, till you’re sure he can hear every breath you take and feel every beat of your heart. you’re so at ease here, soaked to the bone and in his arms, that you hardly register him struggling to shrug off his cloak or him draping it over you in an attempt to protect you from the cold morning air.
seonghwa tucks an arm under your knees and another by your neck before he slowly rises to a stand, readjusting you once he’s fully stood up, tall and proud and gripping you like you’re a piece of fine china. when he takes his first step, you panic, staring up at him with widened eyes.
“please don’t make me go home.” even if he wanted to, after hearing the vulnerability in your voice and seeing the dimming of the light in your eye, he could never do such a thing.
“i wasn’t planning on it.”
true to his words, the two of you begin a journey of silence through the snowy forest. the only sound are his footsteps, your chattering teeth, the occasional questioning from seonghwa- which you suspect is his way of making sure you’re still with him- and, strangely enough, the padding of the wolf’s paws on the ground.
he must notice you tense as you both approach the ethereal palace and he struggles out a laugh when you gasp.
“why’re you so surprised? it’s hardly like you haven’t been here before.”
“yeah but i was probably half concussed and too angry to really take in this... whole thing.” you can’t tear your eyes away from it, the solid ice building. it almost looks unreal, like an overgrown sculpture someone had carved into the side of a glacier, but the open doors presenting you with a view of the perfectly furnished home are a give away sign that he truly lives in an ice palace.
at least you hadn’t been imagining the chandelier made of ice.
a whine rings from behind you both and seonghwa spins, forcing you both to come face to face with the wolf. it’s head hangs low and it’s tail is tucked so far between it’s legs, a complete display of submission and so different to the wild animal that had chased you all the way to the frozen disaster, snarling and growling at you, like it was ready to stain it’s teeth with your blood.
“i don’t know what you’re whining for, i told you to be nice to guests and look what you ended up doing.” the wolf let’s out a low howl at seonghwa’s words, cowering itself down onto the ground outside. “you’re lucky i have more pressing matters to attend to than giving you into trouble. piss off before i change my mind.”
the wolf whines once more before running off, back into the same woods it had chased you through. he continues his way through the hall, and up the staircase. your eyes watch the chandelier once more, marveling in the way the light shines through the crystalized ice. it’s not long until he’s carrying you back into a familiar bedroom, sitting you on the bed before barreling over to the wardrobe.
“how did you...” you begin, wrapping his coat around you tighter. you’d began to feel warmer a while back but the fabric smells like him.
“talk to the wolf?” he finishes your question, a hint of amusement in his voice as he sifts through the clothes, picking out a random shirt. “change into this. those wet rags are no use if you want to heat up.”
you take the shirt from his hand and he turns his back to you instantly, giving you the privacy you need to disrobe. you’re reluctant to remove his cloak until you realise the shirt he’s handed you smells even more like him. your wet clothes drop to the floor in a puddle and you quickly pull it over yourself before quietly announcing you were done.
“he wasn’t always like that.” is the first thing seonghwa says, when he manages to ignore the initial feeling in his chest at seeing you in his clothes, hair a mess, shivering. he wants to say his only intentions are to take care of someone, that he would be doing this for anyone he found harmed or drowning in the cold of the lake. but he knows it’s not true, that it’s because it was you drowning in the lake. “a wolf, i mean.”
you watch him stride past you, over to the unlit fireplace in the room. wherever he goes, you angle your body to follow his movements. he piles up some fresh wood and places it in the pit. it’s only then, when he’s struggling to light a match, that you carefully shuffle over.
you can hardly stand to face him as you let your body take control, that familiar ripple of warmth rushing down the side of your arm and meeting at your fingertips, in the form of a beautiful dancing flame. you blow on it and it floats down off your hand, landing on the wood and striking an instant fire.
“i’ve not seen you do that since-” your head snaps to seonghwa, who’s face is painted in his own form of shock. shock that he’s almost said too much, shock that, really, he might have already done too much by bringing you here in the first place.
“what did you just-”
he cuts you off nonverbally, hands clasping both your forearms and turning you around before giving you an albeit gentle yet poignant shove towards the large bed.
“get some rest. you’re going to need it.”
rest you needed indeed.
you’d woken up a few hours later with a pounding headache and your skin on fire, though this time for reasons far different than when you had lit the fireplace. seonghwa was sat on the floor, back against a wall as his head lay resting on his bent knees.
as if sensing your eyes on him, his own opened to meet your stare.
in a muted state, the two of you had grazed your eyes over one another. minds fresh from sleep and still a little exhausted, there was no energy to be self-aware, to hold yourselves back from staring at the other. he was the first one to break the eye contact, turning his head to the side. he pushed himself to a stand and carefully approached you. his hand reached out yet never touched you until you nodded affirmatively.
“you’re burning up.” he mumbled to himself, hand resting against your sweaty forehead.
“isn’t it funny how they call it catching a cold, but our bodies burn up?” you replied as you rolled over to lay on your side, forcing his hand off of you.
“that’s your body fighting the virus,” he informed you and, though your eyes were closed, you could already imagine how he’d rolled own or how that tease of a smile lingered on his lips. “but sure, i guess it’s a little ironic.”
you’re not even vaguely sure how many days have passed by with you laying in that bed. had those days not been spent with you working up a sweat and burning in your own skin, you would have found the time to feel guilty for the way seonghwa had been sleeping sat against the wall every night.
you do have to wonder why he didn’t just use one of the other beds in his palace.
but you don’t question him, nor do you protest to the ways he seems hellbent on being your own personal nurse. from making you soup to fluffing your pillow, he’s been at your side any time you need him, not allowing you to so much as lift a finger.
except for lighting the fireplace. that, he let’s you do.
strange as it may seem, even to yourself, you’d come to learn a lot about seonghwa in these few sick days. for starters, he makes excellent tea. it’s perfectly smooth and soothing, trickling down your throat that once burned with pain each time you attempted to speak.
he’s a bit of a clean freak. you have to admire it, really, the way he keeps such a tidy and clean home when it is so large and lived in by no more than him and mingi.
he’s compassionate, much to your surprise. the man you’ve been taken care of by was nothing like the one who first brought you here, all those weeks ago after you’d ended up in the forest by sheer blind rage. you’d woken up at some point, from one of your many naps, and overheard him talking to what you imagined to be the wolf, reassuring it it wasn’t in trouble.
you’ve seen mingi a few times but he seems to be someone who can’t sit still, who needs to go out and do something every day, since he rarely is around. which is how your morning begins today, with mingi popping his head through the doorway and finding only you awake, seonghwa in his usual spot on the ground. the boy does his best to speak quietly, telling you he’ll be back in a few hours before bidding you goodbye and disappearing out of the palace.
rolling onto your side, you watch the sleeping man. he seems younger in his sleep, without that stern look tattooed on his face. you still have so many questions to ask, answers to find but you’ve yet to find time. you could blame it on the fact you’ve been ill but it’s more likely that you were enjoying letting him take care of you a little too much.
an idea appears in your head, forcing you up and out of the large bed. you feel much better, no longer getting lightheaded from simply standing up. grabbing a blanket, you tip toe over to seonghwa’s sleeping form and prepare to drape it over his body, crouching down to do so.
his eyes snap open and he grabs your wrist before you get the chance to.
“sorry...” you whisper, worrying over the fact you’ve woke him up from his slumber. the worry increases by tenfold when his hand let’s go of your wrist and shoots up to cup your cheek. “i never meant to wake you, i was just giving you a-”
“i’ve missed waking up to your face.” his words catch you off guard, just like the way his thumb starts to smooth over your cheek.
and suddenly it all feels like a now or never situation, like you have to take advantage of his vulnerability. you highly doubt another chance will come along sometime soon, where you’ll be able to do this. soon, you won’t even be able to enter the woods, much less this palace, after you’re married off and sent to spend the rest of your days in misery down south.
“who are you, seonghwa?” the thumb on your cheek stops moving. “who are we to each other?”
silence has never felt so nauseating, heavy, cold. you half expect him to shove you away or scream at you. return to the him from the piano bench, telling you you’re nothing but a crazed girl with a head injury.
“i don’t think you’d be asking me that,” he speaks lowly and it’s hypnotizing. every part of him is: his eyes, his lips, his voice. his hands. “if you didn’t already know the answer, y/n.”
the gap between you is lessening with every breath you take, his hand leading you down, down, down till you’re almost sat in his lap and every one of his exhales become your inhales.
his answer is far from the one you wanted it to be. you wanted reassurance, to be told verbatim that everything your pretty little head was thinking was the truth. that the fact you’re inside this palace, under his care is not one of life’s great coincidences but, instead, fate. that everything was falling into it’s place, starting from the moment you finally saw his face at the lake.
because, if he isn’t park seonghwa, the disappeared king of arendelle, and you aren’t park y/n, his supposed wife, you’re unsure that you won’t go insane.
“seonghwa.” you breathe his name out, eyes begging to close while his own are focused on staring down at your mouth, watching the way they moved to speak his name.
no amount of dreaming or reminiscing feels as good as actually hearing you say his name in person.
the past few days were filled by him living in denial, that you were nothing if not an ordinary married couple. him, the dotting husband taking care of his beloved wife and you, the beautiful wife bed ridden from her own misadventures.
“who am i to you?” you’re begging at this point, hands scrunching up the shirt he wears to keep yourself stable, as level-headed as you could possibly be with him so close while your body wants to do nothing but lunge itself into his warmth, let him ruin you in ways you’re beginning to doubt he hasn’t done before.
“you’re the only woman i’ve ever loved.” there is no hesitance in his voice, only assertiveness, confidence, love. like he’s never doubted it for a moment.
“how? we don’t... we barely... we just met!” you’re pretty sure your lips just brushed against his own as you spoke, the buzz of the contact sending shivers down your spine. seonghwa must mistake this for you feeling cold, because he wraps his free arm around you and pulls you fully into his warm lap, bodies flush together.
“yes, we did just meet.” he nods, lips pursing together as his hand tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “in this lifetime. but, trust me, my love, there is not a universe in which i do not love you. it’s my fate.”
in a moment driven purely by the mix of emotions swirling around in your chest, your lips crash against his own. the kiss is feverish, filled with a longing that’s finally being fulfilled, even if only for this short moment. you feel your heart lurch in your chest as he takes control, hand trailing to hold the back of your neck and keep you in place, flush against him.
he dominates your mind and body, tilting both your heads to deepen the kiss being exchanged between your mouths. in this moment, you can’t help but let your mind drift off to every kiss you’ve ever shared before.
the first one, technically, was when you were fourteen years old. you and a close friend, tired of being the only ones to yet have felt someone’s lips against their own, decided to share one between each other. it was nothing but a peck, but from that moment on nothing was the same between you and her. every time you caught each other’s eyes, she’d quickly look elsewhere, a red tint on her cheeks.
the next time it happened was with your first boyfriend, or the closest you’d ever come to one. he was the son of one of the military troops your dad commanded, you’d known him for most of your life thanks to parties and trips organized by your own father. you don’t quite remember when you decided to start a relationship, it just progressed naturally. kissing him was like kissing a snail. in other words, slimy and with the occasional poke of his tongue trying to infiltrate your mouth. childish and afraid of confrontation, you opted for the easiest option of avoiding him to end things.
kisses three, four, five and six were at royal balls. a few champagne flutes thrown back- possibly even a few stronger liquors too- and you’d wind up pressed against a pillar, or pressing someone against it. it’s fair to say they were fun but unmemorable.
yet here you are now, in the lap of a man who should be a stranger to you yet the way his lips mold against yours feels like the only thing that’s ever made sense to you. it’s the first kiss that’s ever felt meaningful.
as if he feels you thinking, about past kisses and ex-lovers, seonghwa’s hips grind up into your own. it catches you by surprise to feel how solid his body is beneath you, hard muscles flexing underneath the rough material of his trousers. he repeats the movement once more, taking advantage of the gasp you let out to slip his tongue into your mouth.
melting into his touch, you give him free reign to explore you to his heart’s content. hands trailing over your body, tongue tasting you, hips grinding into you.
“y/n.” he pulls back, eyes staring into your own. all you can do is stare back, lips swollen from his kiss and heavy breathing, fighting back the urge to grind down on him, to get that sweet friction one more time. “we shouldn’t do-”
“shut up.” you pull his lips against your own again.
you’re tired of being told what to do, tired of no one caring about what you want. your dad, prince taeyong, the entire royal family of the southern isles. you’ll be damned if seonghwa does the same.
thankfully, he doesn’t.
securing you against his body, with his arms wrapping around your back and your legs around his waist, he gives you no warning other than to hold on tight as he rises to a stand, using the wall behind him as leverage.
lips messily moving against one another, he blindly takes a step and wobbles, nearly tripping over and dropping you. you opt for trailing kisses down his jaw and onto his exposed neck. you’re dying to rip open the buttons of his shirt, to see if he’s as toned as you remember from those dreams, those memories.
“i need you to tell me you want this before i put you back down because,” seonghwa breaks off in a strangled moan as you suck your mark into him, hands tightening their hold on you as he comes to a stop. “i don’t think i’ll be able to walk away once i put you down on this bed.”
“well that’s what i’d hope.”
“answer me. properly.”
“geez, old man.” you squeal when his hand slips down to pinch your ass, unintentionally pressing your crotches together. when you feel his length, semi-hard in his trousers, rub against you, you're far from complaining. “i want this. i want you.”
a flip switches within him and his whole demeanor changes. you can see it the minute he drops you onto the bed, eyes darker and more predatory while he casts his gaze down at you. hair spread out, chest rising with every breath, wearing nothing but that shirt he’d leant you.
for what feels like an eternity to you and your impatient, hormone driven brain, seonghwa observes you, with a glint in his eyes and an obvious tent in his trousers.
“what are you waiting for?” you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows as you spread your legs, enticing him to finally make a goddamn move and touch you.
you couldn’t care less if it’s his hands, mouth or cock, you just need to feel him.
“you’re...” he’s caught up in a daydream, that’s all he can think right now. this is nothing more than one of his fantasies of you being there, with him. the lonesome ice has finally driven him to delusions. “so beautiful.”
“thanks.” you cock your head, widening your eyes as you stare up at him in a silent pleading. isn’t this what all your friends had talked about, how they’d seduce men so easily? it seems unfair that he, your supposed husband- ex husband? soulmate? who knows at this point-, is remaining so composed, instead of being already half way through ravishing you. “now can you stick your cock in me or something?”
“huh,” he tsks and leans his hands down on the bed. when his tongue runs along his bottom lip, you think about how it should be you doing that. “you haven’t changed one bit, my lady. still,” his hands slide up the bed. “so,” they wrap around your naked ankles. “desperate.” he yanks you forward before diving down, head first.
much to your displeasure, his lips land on the inside of your thigh. it’s not that it doesn’t feel nice, to have his mouth and tongue coaxing marks onto your skin, but he’s being nothing but a tease and you both know it.
it’s more than embarrassing how wet you already are, still not even properly touched. as degrading as it feels to you, it’s ego inflating for him, to stare right down at the patch of wetness forming in your underwear and know it’s all for him.
“baby,” he coos as his head retracts from your skin, staring up at you while his hands wrap themselves around the meat on your thighs. he’s proud of himself, for keeping his composure despite the fact he’s ready to cum in his pants just from feeling your luscious thighs in his hold once more. god knows how he’s going to endure having them squeeze around his head. “look at the mess you’ve made.”
a fingers trails over your clothed slit and you’re more than eager to react, hips bucking into the little bit of touch he’s allowing you. it sends electricity up your spine and your mind is clouding over, utterly consumed by seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.
you want him in every way, every inch of him on every inch of you.
a tear in your eye is threatening to fall from his teasing alone when he finally grows impatient and shoves the cotton of your panties to the side before his skin is against yours, quenching some of the fire burning in your abdomen. he coats his finger in your essence, eyes fixed down on your soaked pussy the entire time, like a man hypnotized.
“hwa.” the nickname floats out of you with complete ease in a whine, and that seems to do the job, because his digit finally breaches the walls of your crying hole.
his teeth clamp down on his lip as he gives a few experimental roles of his wrist and all you can do is let out a pathetic moan of his name, gasping when another finger soon joins. he scissors them with each thrust they give into your walls.
“you’re so tight.” his comment is more of an observation, like it’s some kind of problem only he can solve. “we’ll have to change that, hmm? get you nice and stretched out around my cock?”
“yes, god, that-” you cry, head throwing back and arching when his thumb begins to rub over your clit. “sounds really good.”
“yeah? you want me to fuck you dumb with my big cock, baby?” seonghwa’s voice is full of mockery, humiliating to a degree that you’re afraid to say is turning you on. never once would you have thought of letting any man nor woman treat you this way, to talk to you like you were incompetent but, there’s something about him being the one doing it that is sending your body into a state of euphoria.
though, that could easily be because of the third finger he’d just added into the mix.
you become so caught up in the way his fingers deliciously stretch you open, how they perfectly curl inside of you and brush against a certain spot that has your legs turning to jelly. in the perfect rhythm of his thumb rubbing over your sensitive nub, like he’s an expert at working your body up into whatever high he’s going to make you feel. in the way his lips have returned to trailing over your thighs, tongue darting out to rub at the flesh every so often, making you wish he’d put it to use on your throbbing cunt.
it distracts you from the mischievous look in his hooded eyes, catching you by surprise when you feel a jolt of cold inside of your hole, leading to a squeal echoing around the room and your walls clamping down on him as an unexpected orgasm ripples through your body.
“you’re still so sensitive, baby.” seonghwa smiles innocently, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers continue working at your core, his cold touch guiding you through your pleasure. “how cute.”
“let’s see if you still think that,” his fingers leave you, still soaked with your cum as they grip your thighs to push your legs open for seonghwa to lap up the remaining wetness with his tongue. “when i burn your dick off.”
“believe it or not, that’s not the first time you’ve threatened to do that.”
“oh, i believe it.”
seonghwa crawls up your body and you welcome him with open arms, meeting his lips in another heated kiss. this time, your tongue is the one intruding on his mouth, and even you’re surprised with the effect the taste of you on his tongue has over you. eyes rolling back, moaning into the messy kissing, a whole new rush of wetness spreading over your sensitive core.
you’re displeased to see him pull back from you but, any complaint that would have left you dies as soon as his mouth is on your neck. your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging at the roots while his mouth works you over. his hard on is pressing into you teasingly, the weight of it against your hip heavy on your mind while seonghwa continues the abuse of your neck, pulling back every so often to admire the artwork he’s painting onto you.
so possessive, he can’t help but roll his hips into you, pleased with the marks he’s leaving upon your body.
but you’re both impatient, growing more and more needy with each grind against each other, so seonghwa decides it’s time to put you both out of your misery and detaches himself from you. he kneels up, starring at you on the bed as his hands tug the shirt over his head, exposing the healthy array of muscle on his chest and abdomen.
“close your mouth, darling.” there’s a smirk evident on his face as you quickly do so, not even aware of the fact you’d been openly gawking at him. “you’re beginning to drool.”
“you would too if you had my view.” there’s an air of confidence around you, one you’ve never really felt before. things come so naturally with him, there’s no need to overthink your actions or question the things you want to say.
“something tells me it’s nothing compared to mine.”
as quick as he was to remove his shirt, his trousers are soon disposed of too. in no time, you find yourself staring at the naked glory that is this man, who’s kneeling at the bottom of the bed, hand clamped around his own cock as he begins to give it a few experimental thrusts to alleviate the pent up frustration.
from everyone you’ve ever known, and your own personal experiences too, you’ve gotten nothing but bad rep for the way the male reproductive organ is set up, countless stories of foreign, disfigured looking things. yet, seonghwa’s is nothing like that, with it’s more than adequate length, mouth-watering girth, a pair of glistening balls, a vein the faintest shade of blue that runs down the length of it. all this is topped off by the cute tip, that’s currently an angry red and dripping with pre-cum as he runs his thumb over it.
you lick your lips, thighs clenching at the sight of him.
as if reading your mind, seonghwa removes his hand from his cock and, instead, uses it to grip one side of your panties, already half-shoved aside from his earlier fun.
“as cute as you look in this cum soaked thing,” he murmurs lowly, voice having dropped several octaves long ago as his dialect threatens to make an appearance. “it’s getting in the way.”
without another word, a tearing noise rings in yours ears and your skin stings from the pain of how he’d ripped them off of you. but it doesn’t matter, not when you feel him place himself between your thighs. you watch as he forces your legs shut, knees touching, and almost question him, until you feel him thrust his hips forward. his length runs over your slit, coating itself in your wetness. it drags over your clit deliciously and then you see that pretty tip appear between your closed thighs and the most intoxicating sound leaves seonghwa.
three, four, five more times he fucks himself into your thighs and you find he quite likes it when you clench them as he does so, squeezing his aching cock even harder.
“you ready to take me, angel?” he needs to fuck himself into you already, otherwise he’ll end up emptying his balls all over your shirt covered stomach.
on your queue, seonghwa aligns himself with your hole and slowly begins to push inward. the first thing you feel is burning and you panic, thinking you accidentally had gone through with your earlier threat, until you quickly realise it’s from the pain of your walls being stretched to fit him. he keeps apologizing softly, giving you words of affirmation as he continues to add inch after inch, a hand on your hip while the other one finds your own, intertwining your fingers.
“sweet mother of...” he trails off, now fully inside you and needing to try centre himself, to not lose his composure for your sake. the hand on your hip moves, leaving a cold feeling in it’s absence as seonghwa uses it to support his weight, leaning down to burrow his head into your neck. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
“hwa,” you let out a shaky breath, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him deeper into you at the same time his mouth goes back to imprinting marks onto your skin, down your collar bone. “move. please. need you to-”
“shh, shh, i know, baby.” he retracts his mouth from you, holding himself higher to stare down at you. a kiss lands on the corner of your mouth, brief and chaste and making you miss the feeling of his lips on yours. “but let’s not go making demands like you’re in charge, okay? i really don’t want to have to teach you a lesson today.”
despite his words, seonghwa gives an experimental thrust. it’s small, with him barely moving an inch, yet it’s enough to have your toes curling.
“besides, you’ve already angered me once, my lady.” his hand returns to yours. instead of lacing your fingers together this time, though, you feel him grasp your hand and yank it up to his eye level.
the blood drains from your face and you swear the world around you feels ice cold as you watch him inspect the ring on your finger. hot, heavy and intruding, it sits on your skin like a wart. without a drop of hesitance, he pulls the ring off of you and flings it over his shoulder to some unknown corner of the room.
“your fiance is cheap, getting you such a tiny, meaningless rock.”
“he’s meaningless, seonghwa, i swear!” you feel need to reassure him, your heart threatening to break under the weight of his cold, dark stare. “my father forced-”
“oh, it makes no difference to me either way.”
slowly, he’s beginning to pull his hips back only to thrust right back into you, his length dragging over your velvety walls. his hand releases yours and grabs at your thigh, tightening your leg’s hold around his body to drive himself deeper inside of you. “you’re mine.”
from there, all hell breaks loose. which, of course, means seonghwa has thrown the idea of self-restraint out of the window, building up the most unforgiving pace as he fucks into you. his nails dig into the flesh on your thigh, leaving crescents behind as yet another mark on your body.
at one particular thrust, where he pulls your body down to meet his and the tip of his cock brushes over that same spot from earlier, your back arches. eyes caught up on the way his shirt rides up your midriff, he sneaks a hand under the material, groaning in pleasure when he makes contact with your bare breasts.
a shiver runs up your back while his cold finger trails over one of your nipples and you can’t help the way your body reacts to his magic, clamping your walls down on him tighter and causing his hips to stutter for a moment.
“do you see this, baby?” seonghwa rasps out, a hand soothing over your lower abdomen and forcing your attention down there. he thrusts and there you see it, the faintest outline of his cock inside of you, thrusting up and bulging against you. “your little hole takes me so well, like your pussy is made for me.”
you’re thrown back into a moaning mess when he picks the pace back up. soon, the intensity of it becomes too much: his cock fucking into you, his hips slapping against your skin, his nails dragging over you, his cold touch lighting a pool of heat within you.
you crumble when his thumb finds your clit again, his magical touch melting against the heat of your throbbing core. wave after wave of pleasure, your orgasm floods over you like a waterfall while seonghwa fights off his own, to guide you through yours.
you have different plans.
“cum in me!” it’s nothing but a cry at this point. you do your best to roll your hips in time with his thrusts, clenching around him. “please, hwa.”
“huh? you’re still my little cum slut?” his head cocks to the side, humour dancing around in his eyes. his tongue runs over his bottom lip for the millionth time. “used to sit and beg daddy to cum in you, like the filthy little angel you are.”
“please.” you’re begging, pleading him to spill his seed into you.
“want me to breed you? fill you full of my cum till that little fiance of yours understands that you’re mine?” you nod eagerly. “what my angel wants, she gets.”
that wouldn’t be the last time he empties himself inside of you because, when that session died down, it didn’t take long for another to commence, this time with you on top. till the early hours of the morning, the two of you rolled around in the luxury of the large bed- and once up against the wall-, moaning into each other’s mouth and rutting against each other’s bodies, the years, decades, lifetime spent apart finally being made up for.
poor mingi returned home only to decide he needs a new roommate.
life was going too good, you think, something like this was bound to happen.
it’s thursday by now, at last, which lead to you finally forcing yourself to detach from seonghwa to go have your talk with the king. he wasn’t exactly pleased, taking you against the wall by the front door of the palace because he needed to “remind you who you belonged to before he let you go back to that male infested castle.”
things had been good, really good.
apart from the more than pleasurable sex you’d both been engaging in- on just about every surface in the building, much to mingi’s displeasure. nothing could help him unsee the sight of you, naked as the day you were born, bent over a grand piano as seonghwa took you from behind.- the two of you had spent time catching up: on life before your death, on the decades spent without you, on your reunion that had been so heartless and anti-climatic it had sent seonghwa into a state of depression.
it wasn’t hard to tell how difficult it had been for seonghwa to isolate himself completely, to leave his own little brother, the boy he’d cherished and grown up with his whole life, thinking he was dead. he confessed to you how, at the beginning of his isolation, he’d sneak down to the border of the forest, in hope of catching a glimpse of his brother, newly thrust into kinghood and trying his best to deal with the loss of not only his sister in law but his older brother too.
“i wanted to be there for him, i did.” he’d said, head resting on your naked shoulder as you traced patterns over his skin. “but i couldn’t be there without you. that castle, it... everywhere i looked, i saw you. arendelle was better off without a ruler like me, my love. they didn’t need some heartbroken man who’d frozen their lands and left them cropless. they needed a king, someone strong and capable of taking care of them. they needed my brother.”
that’s when your plans changed.
initially, you’d requested a meeting with the king to finally convince him to disapprove of your marriage. it made sense, with how he looked at the prince with disgust and how he seemed to care for your opinion, that he would at least hear you out on this offer. now, knowing the relation you two share, knowing that a part of him must realize you were truly reborn, like father jongho had claimed, you had no doubt he’d agree.
your new plan was to tell him seonghwa was alive, no one deserved to know more than him.
“i must say, i’ve missed seeing your face around the castle.” the man across from you speaks with amusement, bringing the dainty cup of tea up to his parted lips and sipping loudly. “i originally thought you were avoiding me.”
“me? avoid you? never.” there’s a bite to your tone, no longer caring for politeness nor niceties. he’s getting in your way, with this unprompted tea he forced you to share with him.
“i apologise, once more, for my actions that evening.” he sighs, like the evening had been a bother for him and not you. “but i would appreciate it if we could cast it aside. we are to be married, after all, next week.” your stomach churns at the thought of marrying prince taeyong. “it would be a horrible way to begin our marriage.”
if you have things go your way, there will be no beginning.
“it’s fine, taeyong.” you settle for saying that instead, taking your own sip of the sweet beverage. “soon, it’ll all be behind us and done with.”
“exactly my thoughts. now let us discuss some wedding details you missed out on during your trip.”
you tune most of his speaking out, the odd mentions of a dress or a cake flavour drifting past your conscious mind. your eyes are plastered on the door, willing it to open and have someone interrupt the two of you, to give you the perfect escape plan to get out of this conversation.
you need to get to the king, no time for this man’s nonsense.
you catch sight of a clock against the wall and your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. three hours. three whole hours he’s had you sat in this room, sipping at cold tea and hearing him talk circles around you. enough is enough.
“forgive me,” you feign a yawn, hand covering your mouth to maintain face. “but i’m rather tired. the trek back was arduous, i’m sure you understand.”
“oh!” the prince is quick to stand from his chair, standing aside and signaling for the door with his hand. there’s a smile on his face that you think aims to relax you but it makes your stomach twist. “go get some rest, please, i insist.”
placing your cup on the table, you stand up and smooth over the front of your dress. it must be that your corset is too tight, that’s what’s causing your uneasy feeling. you bow your head at him as you make your way past, feeling your insides relaxing as your hand wraps around the door handle, twisting it and-
“you’ve got guts, i’ll give you that.”
the room grows colder.
the uneasy feeling grows bigger.
the prince grows closer.
hands wrap around your waist and it makes you feel sick, your mind incapable of stopping itself from comparing his touch to seonghwa’s.
the bile rises up your throat hauntingly slow. taeyong settles himself against the back of your body, his unwanted mouth latching onto your neck. a gasp, brought on by pain instead of pleasure, escapes you as you feel him bite down hardly on your neck, enough to have you wondering if he broke skin, drew blood.
“showing up without your engagement ring in sight and your neck littered in another man’s marks. now that,” he pauses, running his tongue up the expanse of your neck till his lips are right by your ear. “that takes courage. bravo.”
there’s a tug at your neck. and then another one, harsher this time. and one last final pull, filled with rage and a bitter laugh from the prince as your feel the snap of the necklace, his fist encasing the snowflake.
“no, please, i need-”
“you know, i really used to think it was a silly little myth.” he begins to talk so calmly, malice dripping off of every word like a deadly venom. you struggle to turn around and stare him in the face, ready to plead for your necklace, plead for your life. “some bullshit adults fed to children, only to laugh at them behind closed doors for believing it. but, god, meeting you? i just knew it had to be true.”
the prince begins to stroll around the small room, hands behind his back. you watch the pendant in his grasp, swing from side to side and you try to follow him but you’re already growing dizzy.
the room is heating up, or is that just you?
“do you remember when i proposed?” he has the audacity to laugh, a single hand reaching to draw the curtains shut and cut off your view of the snowy courtyard below. “you almost snapped, didn’t you? nearly showed the true kind of abomination you are. kind of disappointing that you didn’t. it really would’ve been an honour to see the yeoleum in action.”
your knees are growing weaker and you stumble, collapsing on the floor next to a sofa. you try push yourself back up with the seat but it’s no use. the warmth is overwhelming. tiny little fibres in your body are ripping apart, the fire nature has cursed you with burning you from the inside out.
“it’s quite beautifully poetic, don’t you think?” you want him to shut up. to leave. to give you that goddamn necklace back. “the very thing that makes you special is the very same thing that will kill you.”
the skin on your arms is beginning to crack, tiny lines of reds and oranges visible as the magic spirals out of control.
“for good this time, of course. no comebacks, no resurrections.” you’re trying, you really are, to channel the power out of you, to make sure that, if you’re about to crash and burn, he’ll be following right after you. “my one regret is that your dear gyeoul won’t be witnessing this. i read he was quite the mess during your first passing, it would’ve been wonderful to see it with my own two eyes.”
“you’re a monster.” tears stream down your face, quickly evaporating at the heat of your own skin.
“now now, let’s not call each other names. i’ve been good to you, my lovely fiance.” that thing he’s always lacked, that stopped you from falling for his charms, finally hits you in the face. sincerity. there is not an inch of it in his whole body. “and you still managed to choose some frozen old freak over me.”
you watch in complete horror as he throws the necklace into the burning fireplace, another one of his heartless laughs cackling out of him. he begins to stalk over to you and you scramble as far back as possible, back pressing into the sofa behind you while your insides continue to burn.
“the only thing that can save you from yourself now is an act of true love,” he scoffs at the word. you’re too far gone to fight against the hands that grasps at your chin, letting him force you to stare right into his eyes. “what a shame in a few hours there will be nobody left who truly loves you.”
“what makes a hero?”
the question had been given to him for years from his own father.
at dinner tables, in tournaments, on trips. his father made it a repeated point to have his sons ponder over the question. they’d both attempt to give him answers: a sword, a steed, armour, courage.
they were always wrong.
“sacrifice.” his father whispered one evening. it was the first dinner they had shared as a family since their mother’s passing, and their father was but a shell of the man he was before. “that is what makes a hero.”
there were many different types of tears exchanged that night: tears for the dead queen, tears of laughter at the silly memories they shared, tears of love as their father promised them both he’d always be there for his sons, tears of admiration as he announced his plans to step down form the throne, tears of honour when he offered his place to seonghwa.
in all his life, he’d yet to have been faced with any true sacrifice.
he couldn’t sit still from the moment you’d left the palace. there was a horrible feeling in his gut and a tugging at his heartstrings, begging him to follow after you, to keep his eye on your retreating figure. he managed to ignore it for a few hours, until mingi made a single comment about feeling uneasy and then he was up, commanding his friend to get dressed.
it was shocking how easily his legs carried him to the doors of the castle. the sight of it alone was enough to send a pang of emotions through his guts, memories of growing up there, of his mother singing him and his brother to sleep, of his father letting them win in fake duels against him, to boost their young egos. memories of you.
of meeting you in the stables and marrying you in the hall. of kissing you in the gardens and loving you relentlessly, unforgivingly.
a man caught his eye, up by a window on what he imagines to be the second floor. they held eye-contact for nothing but a few seconds but it was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand. the man shut the curtains, but not before seonghwa managed to spot a familiar piece of jewelry dangling between his fingers.
mingi easily agreed to head up to the room, not needing convincing when the possibility of you being in there, in danger, was brought up. and seonghwa waited, his father’s question replaying over and over.
what makes a hero?
seonghwa finally met that sacrifice.
everything had happened quickly: his mythical name being bellowed across the courtyard, the man from the window calmly making his way down the steps of the castle, the sword in the man’s hand swinging freely as he began to talk, the uneasy feeling in seonghwa growing more intense as his knees began to cave in on him and the blood in his veins began to slowly freeze over.
and now the sword is buried in his chest.
“why are you doing this?” seonghwa manages to ask, voice shaky as he coughs up cold blood.
“finally! someone interested in what i have to say!” the man cheers, kneeling down to come face to face with seonghwa. there’s a smile on his face but iy holds no kindness. “your little lover really is stupid, you know? all she could do was stutter over her own words and throw playground insults. i guess that’s what your brain being on fire does to you.”
“if you layed your hands on her, i’ll-” seonghwa groans as the man turns the handle of the sword ever so slightly, the blade in him moving with it.
“you’ll what?” a heavy snow begins to fall down but seonghwa feels none of it, too consumed with the way his insides are turning to ice. “i didn’t need to lay a hand on her. you two are deadly enough all by yourselves, pathetic little abominations destined to die without the balance of one another.”
a rush of footsteps can be heard, the view of mingi appearing, you in his arms and a group of other men at his back. they halted in their path, watching the scene unfold before them, of the blood pouring onto the horrifically white ground and the way the prince has his hand around the handle.
“i always knew you were garbage, taeyong.” a voice, distinctly deep and familiar to seonghwa, rings out. it’s a little satisfying, among all the pain his body is in, to see the man’s eyes widen in fear, truly a coward and nothing like a hero. “ but i had no idea you were also pathetic. and treacherous. and insane. guards, seize that man.”
seonghwa can’t keep himself up any longer and, as the hand on the handle disappears when it’s owner stands and bolts out of the courtyard, the royal guards hot on his trail, he let’s himself fall on his back. he stares up at the sky and welcomes in the way the snow is falling onto him.
he thinks he could die quite happily like this.
“hwa!” your voice calls out softly.
but not yet, not now.
your face appears above him and he doesn’t need to touch you to feel the heat radiating off of you. it pains him to watch you remove the sword from his chest, and not because of the way it cuts him up some more but because you carelessly wrap your hand around the blunt blade and pull it out with no regard for how it slices your fingers open.
you try to speak again but you crash down on his chest, burning body against his icing skin. neither of you pay mind to the eyes on you, the king in disbelief of the fact his brother is there, not a single sign of having aged one bit and forcing him to witness the death of his sister in law all over again.
a deathly silence rings in the courtyard as the two lovers, soulmates knotted together by the red starring of fate, lay completely still: him on the cold ground and her on his cold body.
a moment passes and their chests no longer rise with any breath.
then another.
and another.
a gasp, faint but there, reaches the king and mingi’s ears and hope lurches forward in both their chests. they take a few steps closer, just in time to see the reopening of seonghwa’s eyes.
the man sits up, cradling his beloved to his chest, where no wound lays any longer and only stains of his blood remain on his clothes. his hands are desperate with how they claw at you, crushing you against his beating chest as he slowly begins to rock you both back and forth.
“come back. please. please don’t leave me again.” his words are getting tangled together as fresh, warm tears run down his face and a sob, violent, painful, alive rips through his chest. “you can’t- i just got you back- please- i love you.”
king felix feels his heart bleed for his brother, who’d been nothing but strong and permanent and there for him their whole childhood, now breaking down for the second time in his infinite lifetime over the loss of his one true love. a broken man, begging the gods and mother nature and anyone who will listen to bring you back to him.
“seonghwa...” mingi speaks with pity, leaning down to place his hand on the man’s shoulder. his movements halt when a strangled sob takes over the man as he burrows his head into your warm neck.
it’s painfully heartbreaking.
it’s viciously gut wrenching.
it’s tears and sobs.
it’s broken and brutal.
it’s an act of true love.
your eyes open.
everyone knows why the warmth returned.
the children of arendelle had rejoiced, awakening to see a single flower had bloomed from the ground and the sun, high in the sky, sharing it’s warmth with all the kingdom, melting the cold away and heating up everyone’s heart.
there was no need to wrap up in layers upon layers of clothing that morning, no cold wind to smack against their skin, no snow to soak through their clothes.
they were so quick to worry it was a once in a lifetime occurrence.
after two, three, four days of blistering heat everyone began to relax, to trust that the warmth was here to stay. families went to the beach for the first time in their lives. they felt the searing pain of sunburn and heat stroke yet still, the smile would not fall from their faces.
to feel the sun’s warmth was to feel alive.
the reunion was heartfelt.
a simple dinner, hosted by felix and his partner, chan, and welcoming only three guests: you, seonghwa and, of course, mingi.
the night was a much needed relief to you all, after the weeks of explaining to the town that yes, the myth had in fact been true and gyeoul had finally gotten his yeolleum back in his arms. now, the children were running around believing every myth of the kingdom to be true: demi-gods and fearsome dragons, werewolves and vampires, evil pirates and trickster genies. every mythical creature under the sun, they believed in it’s existence.
“time has been kind to you, hwa.” felix commented as he’d cut through his slice of steak.
“i can’t say the same for you, yongbok.”
laughter filled everyone’s lungs at the jab seonghwa made at the man’s graying hair and wrinkling skin.
the wedding was beautifully intimate.
with only loved ones in the perimeter, the two of you married down by the frozen lake, on the first official day of winter since the return of the summer season. the ceremony was quick, quaint, perfect for you two.
father jongho, much older than you’d remembered him being, orchestrated the marriage. there were plenty of jokes about how this was his first time marrying the same couple twice, which earned glares from seonghwa and giggles from you.
even that wolf, who’d scared you so much initially but proved to be nothing if not a big puppy, had come down to watch it, tail wagging when you offhandedly thanked him for pushing you into seonghwa’s arms that day, which never would have happened if you hadn’t crashed into the frozen water.
the funeral was painfully slow.
attended by the whole kingdom, not a single face sat without tears streaming down it as they watched the casket be carried down the isle, filled with their beloved king’s body.
father jongho hosted it, speaking beautiful words before handing the floor over to chan to give the eulogy. he himself was much older too, a full head of grey hair as he recounted the memories of his husband’s final years, the happiness that had been felt during them thanks to the return of his older, yet younger looking, brother.
even your father, who you hadn’t been on the best of terms with up until that point, had shed tear after tear. during the service, which was held in the familiar ballroom, he extended his condolences to chan and your husband, before lastly holding you in his frail arms for the first time in a while. he landed a kiss on your forehead before promising you would talk soon, do better to make use of the time you had left together.
the births were agonizingly worth it.
only you, seonghwa, mingi, chan and a wet-nurse were present for them. you’d screamed in agony, hand clasping seonghwa’s in it and telling him over and over about how you’d never allow him to put his wretched penis inside of you ever again, making everyone but your husband laugh.
yeosang and san came first, a set of beautiful boys born on the first day of spring. yeosang was quiet and well-mannered, unlike his twin san, who wreaked havoc everywhere he went yet he done so with the cutest little smile that had both of his parents melting into a puddle of forgiveness.
hongjoong and wooyoung came next, another set of beautiful boys born on the first day of autumn. hongjoong was the quieter one, taking after yeosang, while wooyoung became a double-act with his brother san, who taught him the ways of mischief and how to get away with it.
in your dreams, it is still cold.
frozen lakes and ice palaces fill your mind when you sleep, the memories of your life before dying- the first death- flashing into your subconscious occasionally. you no longer wake up in fear.
it’s never cold in bed, his body pressed against yours, his light breaths tickling at your ear and forcing you to break into a smile, alerting him of the fact you’re finally awake.
“i missed you.” he whispers and plants a kiss on your neck, smiling into your skin.
“we were sleeping for a few hours, what reason could you have for missing me?” you laugh as your roll over in his arms, tucking your head under his chin.
“hey! i went decades without you, so trust me when i say i have plenty of reasons for missing you.”
it’s hard sometimes, knowing you two have a much larger history together than your mind will allow you to remember but seonghwa is always here, ready to tell you stories of fights once had and dates once shared.
because he knows this is it, for good this time. no more goodbyes, no more losing you, no more isolation or frozen lands.
“we have about twenty minutes until the kids wake up.”
he feels a smile break out at your comment, arms squeezing you even tighter against him. “are you insinuating what i think you are, my lady?”
instead of a verbal reply, seonghwa feels a touch of warmth.
#ateez smut#park seonghwa smut#ateez series#park seonghwa series#ateez angst#park seonghwa angst#ateez fluff#park seonghwa fluff#yes mingi is olaf
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reigniting
✩ mark x reader | dance au | enemies to lovers | car s*x | smut | fluff | 1.6k
SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night.
WARNINGS ⇾ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory
RATING ⇾ mature
FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead
AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!
“I missed this.”
Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.
Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.
The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.
“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.
The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.
Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.
From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.
But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.
The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.
And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.
The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.
Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.
“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”
“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”
“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—
“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”
That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.
When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.
Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.
Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.
Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.
However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.
During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.
Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.
And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.
But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.
Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”
“What’s up?”
“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”
A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”
“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”
He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”
Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."
The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.
"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."
You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"
"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.
"You'll never know."
There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.
A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.
His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.
The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.
"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"
You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.
"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.
Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.
And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.
You hold your breath and question back—
"Am I wrong?”
The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.
The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.
"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.
Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"
"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.
The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.
“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.
In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.
“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”
All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.
You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.
On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.
“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.
“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.
You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.
You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.
“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”
You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.
“No deal, captain.”
nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!
#mark lee#mark lee fluff#mark lee smut#mark lee x reader#mark lee imagines#mark lee scenarios#mark lee fanfic#nct smut#nct fluff#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 smut#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fluff#nbwc2021#nctcreations
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𝘽𝙉𝙃𝘼 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 >> CLASS 1-B. || Fem!s/o
𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘿𝙀𝘿: neito monoma, itsuka kendo, sen kaibara, ibara shiozaki, tetsutetsu tetsutetsu, reiko yanagi, setsuna tokage
𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 (𝙎) : n/a [?]
-Neito Monoma
!! 🧺 | he’s actually very sweet, just a bit playful with you
!! 🧺 | he cracks joke just to make you laugh because your smile means EVERYTHING to him
!! 🧺 | i’m pretty sure he’s a nerd at color theory and would ALWAYS point out how beautiful your eyes are. even if it has a darker shade, he just knows that it’s a beautiful color that he loves so much
!! 🧺 | he doesn’t let other people touch his bunnies besides kendo, you may also be the exception
!! 🧺 | overly dramatic because he knows you can’t possibly, truly handle his bullshit
!! 🧺 | his teenager crush on you is so adorable, because he’s always in denial. or refuses to admit he have a crush on you
!! 🧺 | seeing that you’re not comparing him to a villain because of his quirk, wether it’s a joke or not. you automatically gain a part of his trust and respect. deadass
!! 🧺 | he bullies people for a reason, and you better deal with that
!! 🧺 | very argumentative, trying to fight with him with controversial topics is useless
!! 🧺 | LET. HIM. TOUCH. YO. HAIR………. pls
!! 🧺 | even if he tries, he can’t keep up late at night. HE WILL fall asleep, so sometimes you’ll be left on read accidentally-
!! 🧺 | when texting… he’s a total different person omg
!! 🧺 | no because if your seat is next to his, he will pass you the answers for the math exam.. (don’t lie, i know you’re a total dogshit at this subject. )
!! 🧺 | he’s a real big fan of Vlad king so you better be prepared seeing some of his merch in his closet
!! 🧺 | seeing you in his clothes makes him feel weird. he’ll try to make fun of you but he’s just really flustered to look at cha’ i swear
!! 🧺 | it’s rare to see him swear, so when he do so.. dear god..
!! 🧺 | HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR BODY SHAPE, SIZE OR WHATEVER, HE LOVES YOU THE WAY YOU ARE AND HE WILL REMIND YOU THAT
!! 🧺 | “you love me o’ sooo much it makes you look stupid.”
!! 🧺 | “don’t tell kendo about this, but i like you. for real.”
!! 🧺 | pronouns first with this man, pronouns = priority, pronouns respected. period.
!! 🧺 | he would be such a simp for you..
!! 🧺 | not obsessive or possesive, per se just jealous in a healthy way
!! 🧺 | “i’m literally a low quality version of bakugo.”
!! 🧺 | THEATRICAL, AS FUCK.
-Itsuka Kendo
!! 🧸 | SHE’S LITERALLY A SWEET HEART *SOBS SOBS*
!! 🧸 | she acts like your big sister sometimes.
!! 🧸 | she’s so shy and intimidated when she gets to date you bro..
!! 🧸 | your hero name? your hero costume? gives no shit, she find everything about you AMAZING.
!! 🧸 | you’re the little spoon, don’t prove me wrong, you’re the little spoon
!! 🧸 | she finds you so cute (especially if you have chubby cheeks, cause like uuuUhhh…)
!! 🧸 | she dresses you up when ya’ll get a girl days
!! 🧸 | she doesn’t know how to cook, depending on your cooking skills; either you get to cook or ya’ll order sum shit idk
!! 🧸 | she have a whole romantic cottagecore playlist dedicated for you whenever she thinks about you i swear.
!! 🧸 | you participates in her activity of : “knocking-down-neito-whenever-hes-been-an-ass”
!! 🧸 | can’t even afford to scold you the first time ya’ll meet, you’re so beautiful *sob sob*
!! 🧸 | if you’re in a social group space, you’re her favourite person, ya’ll are the duo of the friend group
!! 🧸 | “can’t sleep? that’s okay me too.”
!! 🧸 | picky, very picky eater. ya’ll may have trouble ordering something.
!! 🧸 | you’re the ticklish person, she’s the tickler. if you’re not, she’ll helplessly try to tickle you..-
!! 🧸 | “SPIDER, SPIDER!!”
!! 🧸 | your luck booster, i stg
!! 🧸 | she likes seeing you with fake cat ears, you look so adorable in her perspective
!! 🧸 | “LET’S WATCH A DISNEY MOVIE!!”
!! 🧸 | fast typer when texting.
!! 🧸 | you’re her angel, you are.
!! 🧸 | wants to be a make-up artist somedays.. so you better be ready and prepare to be a mannequin.
!! 🧸 | “you’re so weird *faces you* you’re so weird.”
!! 🧸 | 256 HOURS LONG OF TALK AND CHATS WHEN SHE ENCOUNTERS A LONG TIME FRIEND AT THE MALL
!! 🧸 | she wants to be a princess, your princess
!! 🧸 | SAY THAT YOU LOVE HER HAIR AND SHE WILL FLUSH
!! 🧸 | “why are you so pretty 🥺’
!! 🧸 | cottagecore lesbians :)
!! 🧸 | holding your hands + kisses + pecks on the lips, physical affection <<<<<<<<
!! 🧸 | gives you her stuffies, trust me she have LOADS of stuffies
!! 🧸 | BLUSHES SO HARD WHEN YOU WEAR HER CLOTHES
Sen Kaibara
!! 📢 | you don’t understand, the amount of love he holds for you is HUGE!
!! 📢 | fairly confident when he’s fighting by your side, you give him confidence..
!! 📢 | bad habits to compare your beauty with his
!! 📢 | trying to make him blush? oh honey, you don’t have to try once you have a relationship with him..
!! 📢 | his smile <<<<<<<<<<<<<
!! 📢 | usually quiet but tends to be talkative ONLY to you
!! 📢 | his heart beats faster and faster when you get close to him, but his face says 😐
!! 📢 | “kiss me already, dummy”
!! 📢 | really likes anime actually, ya’ll watch animes or read mangas sometimes :)
!! 📢 | *strokes strokes, scrubs scrubs your hair gently*
!! 📢 | thinks you look so cute in his clothes but doesn’t mention it
!! 📢 | secretly tries to get one of the things you crave for (an item, celebrity’s autograph idk sum shit)
!! 📢 | mockery against you? not on his watch.
!! 📢 | his love language is physical touch *sobs sobs*
!! 📢 | rubs your hand gently to calm you down when you feel anxious
!! 📢 | old times french love songs of edith piaf is his jam..
!! 📢 | hopeless romantic :c
!! 📢 | insecure? not on his watch,
!! 📢 | gives you his juice box to you and only to you
!! 📢 | you’re his first kiss
!! 📢 | BEST HUG GIVER
!! 📢 | the type to put your hair behind your ears
!! 📢 | “you’re my everything..”
!! 📢 | KISSES YOUR CHEEKS INTENSIVELY
!! 📢 | loves to feel euphoric, you make him euphoric
!! 📢 | you get the blower during summer lmao
!! 📢 | buys you loads of icecreams during summer
!! 📢 | go to the heater side during winter, right now, right here.
!! 📢 | everything you ask somethinh, he’ll answer instantly
!! 📢 | want something? dont worry, sen gotchu’
!! 📢 | SIMP
!! 📢 | wants to be someone truly meaningful to you
!! 📢 | you make him feel special for doing literally nothing
!! 📢 | he loves you, so so much.
Ibara Shiozaki
!! 🌱| literally the momo yaoyorazu of class 1-b but more theatrical
!! 🌱| you kinda just already knew that she have a preference for girls
!! 🌱| “mo- mother nature? what kind of silly things are you spouting out of that mouth of yours…”
!! 🌱| you are literally babied by her
!! 🌱| good baker and easily make your favorite dish/dessert
!! 🌱| you’re her top priority, and she carefully pays attention to you. deadass, she’s the type to wipe your mouth with her favorite tissue while she’s talking about a serious matter with her teamates bro
!! 🌱| she’s such a nerd in the rom-com industry, and gets pretty shy when you proceed to do something that is similar to a scene about one of her few rom-com movies. (ex: kadebon)
!! 🌱| she laughs so easily..
!! 🌱| “you’re so precious.”
!! 🌱| she showed all the symptoms of “crushing” back then, and you already knew that.
!! 🌱| everytime you hype her up, she smiles widely
!! 🌱| she’s so gift giving, she can’t leave you without giving you a gift first
!! 🌱| all the gifts you gave her stays safe and sound in her room
!! 🌱| “i might never be your hero, but i’ll be the winner of your heart.”
!! 🌱| she wants you to wear her clothes so ya’ll can match :)
!! 🌱| she’s quite wealthy, so she buys you some expensive gifts that reminds her of you
!! 🌱| always wrap her arms around you everywhere
!! 🌱| teases you but a lot
!! 🌱| she likes to do gardening stuff with you
!! 🌱| full knowledge on plants, every flowers she offers you was because of a characteristic that reminds her of you
!! 🌱| her efforts to be committed in your relationship is so visible
!! 🌱| always slips a little ‘I love you” everydays
!! 🌱| your love, affection and attention is enough to repay her for her consistent efforts.
!! 🌱| gets easily jealous but tries to hide it, but you obviously can tell due to her uncontrollable blush
!! 🌱| as she is so gift giving, you’ll try to argue with her saying she doesn’t need to give her this much gifts
!! 🌱| she gets overwhelmed when you make out of an exam/mission
!! 🌱| loves to give you a head massage while reading a book
!! 🌱| come and stargaze with her >:|
!! 🌱| kisses the back of your hand
!! 🌱| show you off when she have the chance to
!! 🌱| compared to what you may have assumed, she puts a lot of trust in her words when showin’ you off.
!! 🌱| “everyday and everynight, you make me happy just by thinking of your silly little face.”
!! 🌱| HELPS YOU WITH HOMEWORK
!! 🌱| SLEEPOVERS!!
!! 🌱| she felt insecure about her hair, so the fact that you had he audacity to pet her head made her fall inlove with you.
!! 🌱| gets genuinely confused when you laugh at her dramatic behavior
!! 🌱| her humor is kinda bad, so she may laugh at the stupidest thing ever
Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
!! 🦈| oh boy, everything would be so wild with him
!! 🦈| you cannot leave the room without giving him a hug first
!! 🦈| awkward, like really
!! 🦈| “you’re the most coolest— beautifulest—…uuh.. person!”
!! 🦈| doesn’t academically succeed a lot, but puts a lot of efforts in his works. every praises you give him makes him smile
!! 🦈| makes you laugh without him knowing
!! 🦈| please, he probably starts to laugh when you start talking too fast because he doesn’t understand-
!! 🦈| in summer, he turns his arms into steel so you can grip against it (since steel is usually cold)
!! 🦈| probably have adhd
!! 🦈| loves to caress your cheeks
!! 🦈| sometimes kisses your little fingers for fun
!! 🦈| buddies to lover trope :D
!! 🦈| uses kaomoji than emojis
!! 🦈| his favorite song is teenage dirtbag
!! 🦈| he requires a good listener as his s/o, because he is a very talkative person and bring numerous topics and persons at the same time when talking to him
!! 🦈| “you’re extra-beautiful..”
!! 🦈| offers a fish related plushie
!! 🦈| shows off his abs for you
!! 🦈| two dumb hoes doing shit trope
!! 🦈| “you kinda remind me of an otter..?
!! 🦈| “wanna be a teenage dirtbag with me?”
!! 🦈| he calls you the popular girl of the school for a reason.. 😭
!! 🦈| calls you tetsutetsu junior when you wear his clothes
!! 🦈| openly admit that ya’ll are in a relationship to everyone
!! 🦈| is actually ticklish himself-
!! 🦈| loves to kiss your forehead
!! 🦈| loves to point out how cute you are
!! 🦈| definitely introduces you to fatgum and kirishima
!! 🦈| he can’t really came up with a petname.. so he’ll give you stupid ones
!! 🦈| as you can tell, he’s clearly not experienced but he tries, for you :)
!! 🦈| okay but power couple
!! 🦈| “if you steal the blankets, i am about to put my cold feets on you.”
!! 🦈| gets out of hands when he’s too excited
!! 🦈| gives you back hugs when you’re not feeling well
!! 🦈| best caregiver 🥺
!! 🦈| adores you
!! 🦈| play games with you :)
!! 🦈| sends you stupid note under the door whenever you’re taking a shit-
Reiko Yanagi
!! 👻|| you managed to get on her soft side when you told her that she wasn’t weird in any ways
!! 👻|| very quiet and patient with you
!! 👻|| really doesn’t wish to disturb or scare you, but she can’t let go of you — you were so nice
!! 👻|| when you tease her.. she’s a blushing mess
!! 👻|| you’re the only person she hangs most of her time with
!! 👻||she thinks that you’re so, so cool.
!! 👻|| doesn’t know how to react to all of your compliments, just knows how to cuddle
!! 👻|| she makes you listen to her favorite genre of music
!! 👻|| she tries her best to make your relationship with her dynamic as possible!
!! 👻|| with that say, praising is one of her top quality
!! 👻|| as much as she doesn’t know how to handle your praise, she can slap you back with her
!! 👻||”hey.. how abour we kiss? uh- um.. if- if you want to.”
!! 👻|| is actually a good kisser-
!! 👻|| her only way to calm you down was to kiss you when you get overwhelmed
!! 👻|| reiko is a really good listener and would literally listen to your 5 hours long story as she stare at you the whole time
!! 👻|| when you mention that her bags were really cool… good job bro, now she loves you
!! 👻|| SHE’S SO CLINGY, LIKE REALLY CLINGY
!! 👻|| unexpectedly good in video games
!! 👻|| “w-whoa.. i didn’t expected you to wear my clothes..you look adorable..”
!! 👻|| gets truly passionate when talking about paranormal facts
!! 👻|| she loves to play with the strands of your hair
!! 👻|| quality time <<<<<<<<
!! 👻|| would always remind you how beautiful you are
!! 👻|| once you have her sweater wrapped around your body, it’s officially yours now because she says so
!! 👻|| soft spokesperson with you bro..
!! 👻|| seems more confident when texting
!! 👻|| she loves taking pictures of you
!! 👻|| she probably wanted to make you visit the beach during the sunset
!! 👻|| she’s so proud of you..
!! 👻|| “oh, you deserve all of the praises of the world.”
!! 👻|| can’t even look at you in the eyes,, you’re so CUTE!!
!! 👻|| never leave you alone, never will or would
!! 👻|| always grips on your shirt so that you don’t get to be lost in a mission
!! 👻|| regularly checks up on you
!! 👻|| gives you LOADS of snacks during lunch
Setsuna Tokage
!! 🐊| COMMITTED IN THE RELATIONSHIP
!! 🐊| literally takes you out everywhere on ya’ll date
!! 🐊| don’t be shy, skateboard with her
!! 🐊| literally asks to be partnered up with you during the sport festivals
!! 🐊| will do everything for you
!! 🐊| have a reptile pet, you’re the only person knowing about that
!! 🐊| CHERISH YOU UNTIL SHE DIES
!! 🐊| “my sweet sweet pumpkin pie!”
!! 🐊| “let me kiss you until you can’t handle me anymore, darling.”
!! 🐊| she loves snuggling to your neck and leave soft kisses
!! 🐊| eyes contact is important
!! 🐊| you’re her favourite person
!! 🐊| ya’ll be ruining your sleep schedule for each other
!! 🐊| you guys always wear something that matches with the other (a hat, item, shirt.. etc.)
!! 🐊| setsuna announces her relationship with you to the class as if she proposed to you in a mariage
aight ya’ll, bye!
#bnha#bokunomyheroacademia#mha#myheroacademia#my hero academia#boku no my hero academia#class 1b#neitomonoma#neito monoma#reikoyanagi#reiko yanagi#itsukakendou#itsuka kendou#ibarashiozaki#ibara shiozaki#tetsutetsu tetsutetsu#tetsutetsu#headcanons#bnha headcanons#bnha hcs#senkaibara#sen kaibara
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Memories at the school Water Fountain
Kyoya Otoori angst Part 3
Tap here for part 1 and 2
.
.
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time skip 4 years later:
You’ve been living in France for 4 years, your family’s wealth has been back to normal 3 years ago, they asked if you wanted to come back to Japan but you wanted to stay in France to enjoy the scenery, you became a successful women during those 4 years, you have an arranged marriage with a man from a wealthy family, you’ve still kept contact with the host club and haruhi, today will be your return to Japan to celebrate Haruhi and Tamaki’s wedding
………………………………………….… ………………………………………………
“Daiki can you come to Japan with me I’m so nervous” you said to your older brother
“Y/n your 22 an adult, come on it’s gonna be ok, what are you so afraid about?” he said exhausted
“What am I afraid about? Im not afraid of anything I just want you to keep me company” you lied sounding nervous
“Fine I’ll come but your on your own once we get there, agree? He said
“Agreed” you said
You are now at the airport texting Haruhi that you will be there in around 2 days
Thinking about it since high school you were rooting for them and now there getting married, you were coming early to help haruhi prepare, the wedding was suppose to happen in 3 weeks but before it happens you guys were going to have girl time and catch up
You didn’t like France at the beginning for the first week but after that, France was so breathtaking to you
Your nervous to come back after 4 years, I mean you missed your home town but you’ve been gone for quite a while that you feel anxious but excited
You have now got off the airport nervous the first person you see is Haruhi, she grew her hair to around her chest she looked the same but more mature and more beautiful you were so excited to see her you gave her a big hug “Haruhi Chan I miss you so much” you said with tears of joy in your eyes “y/n it feels like forever I miss you welcome back to Japan” she said holding you in a tight hug “lemme see your ring” you said in excitement wow “Haruhi, I mean Mrs. Suoh you got a big beautiful diamond on your hand” you said amazed “haha thanks y/n, woah you got a ring on your hand to, you’ve never told me about this in the letters and texts???” She said confused and shocked, “hehe don’t tell anyone but it’s an arranged marriage, I haven’t even met the man yet” you said nervous “oh I’m sorry y/n… well come to my house and unpack your things” she said
You’ve came to Haruhi’s house and unpacked your things in the guest bedroom, both of you had a mini sleep over and talked the whole night, this felt like highschool all over again…
Haruhi asked you to become her maid of honor for the wedding you were so shocked and happy, the whole 3 weeks of preparing went by so fast and fun, and there were only 3 days till the wedding
On that 3 days the former host club members, Haruhi and you talked “Hey y/n just letting you know but the best man is Kyoya I hope your okay with that” Haruhi and Tamaki said nervously, of course you weren’t really surprised by it, Kyoya was the mans best friend since middle school and it wasn’t your choice and you both were history, “haha it’s fine he has nothing to do with me he’s just an ex” you tried to say nonchalantly
They all agreed and you were more anxious then before you were going to see your former boyfriend/ex in 3 days? Well crap you said to yourself, to be honest you still had feelings for him even though it was 4 years ago… you knew he threw you away once you were useless but still you always thought your relationship somewhat special or it was just you being innocent because that was your first and last romantical relationship
It is now finally the wedding day before Haruhi went down the aisle with her father, she looked so beautiful with her hair in a bun, beautiful white silky dress and a beautiful bouquet of flowers… you felt a flash of deja by all of the sudden you were thinking of that cringey time you told Kyoya about your dream wedding in your mind you said to your self “god damn y/n get your shit together this is your bffs wedding not yours”
You standed there with the other bridesmaids looking to see if Kyoya was there surprisingly he wasn’t there? you felt a little more happy even though it was petty if you but you felt less uncomfortable now
You saw the two lovers that made your heart flutter for happiness to them, you were doing your maid of honor speech then suddenly you saw Kyoya Ootori appear in the crowd, you looked normal but inside you were panicking, you finished the speech and left the stage, after that Kyoya made his speech and that’s when the party beginned, you were sitting in your seat and was looking at people dancing then suddenly they asked for the newly weds and you, and of course the best man to do a slow dance.. could your luck get any worser? No idk don’t jinx it though, you wanted to make up an excuse but nope you gotta face the music (like literally)
You blushed at the sight of him, he grew taller than before, his face has matured more to, and he became head of the Ootori group, he became so successful then you, you were slightly jealous
“It’s a pleasure meeting you Mr.Ootori” you gave a polite head nod, trying to not be passive aggressive
“It’s been a long time y/n” he said
“Mr.Ootori shall we?” You said irritated
“My pleasure, y/n but I would like it if you called me by my first name, like you did in high school”
the dance felt like forever full of awkward silence and him trying to talk to you, damn how a “great” way to end the night…
(Hehe sry this part ain’t spicy spicy but part4 will)
Taglist: @biguwuowouwu
#ouran kyoya#kyoya headcanon#kyoya ootori#kyoya x reader#kyoya ootori angst#ouran hshc#ouran high school host club
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bnha m.list
!!! SERIES ALERT !!!
!bad boy! bnha masterlist is here
~~~
Symbol guide:
◉ imagine
❖ drabble
❀ headcanon
✬ songfic
♥︎ personal favourites
bakugou katsuki
❀ boyfriend hcs
synopsis: what is it like being mr. boom boom mans s/o
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
❖ shut up and hug me ... look at me (drabble)
◉ gross.. do it again (imagine)
synopsis: you knew the stress of being a pro hero was tough, through it all you were there for him, on a particular day he was just burnt out so you spend the night together.
❀ bakugou initiating cuddles with touch hesitant s/o
❀ bakugou with a theatre kid s/o
❀ what volleyball position bakugou would play
◉ around the corner
synopsis: during your little ‘debate’ with your bestie uraraka you exposed your feelings in front of your own crush. your crush was kind of shocked and pretended that it never happened in the first place, but the moment you confront him his side of the story flushes out.
◉ any other way mr. boom boom man ♥︎
synopsis: bakugou has been so busy with trying to figure out how to start his own agency after you guys graduated and that was all he had on his mind. so after you get forced to hang out with your best friend on your birthday you knew that he had long forgotten your special day.
❀ bakugou’s s/o owning a bird
❀ bnha boys as things me an my best friends have texted each other
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
midoriya izuku
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
✬ idk (songfic)
synopsis: have you never thought anything of your questionable relationship with midoriya, were you friends with benefits? were you two in a relationship? you just did not know. all you could feel were those little butterflies.
❀ falconer! s/o
❀ what volleyball position midoriya would play
❖ shut and hug me... you’re pretty cute (drabble)
❀ midoriya with an affection 2nd year boyfriend
❀ bnha boys as things me an my best friends have texted each other
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
todoroki shoto
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
◉ what is wrong with me..
synopsis: shoto todoroki knew for a fact that he was sick, his stomach felt funny when looking at you, being near you or even hearing your name. he would do anything to avoid you even if it meant being harsh and blunt, until you confront him about how he has been acting
◉ you need rest.. ♥︎
synopsis: you were definitely were the light of shoto’s life, he noticed everything when it came to you, like how you always share your ear bud, give him the surprise hugs that he needs and give him the words of wisdom that he always needed.. recently you were selling yourself short from others and shoto needed to put a stop to it.
❀ s/o with glasses
❀ s/o who’s afraid of snakes
❀ todoroki fluff hcs
❀ todoroki with a crush that has a body pillow ♥︎
❀ todoroki with a crush that checks them out
❖ i hate it here.. but you make it worth it + hello~ attention please
❀ todoroki with a theatre kid s/o
❀ what volleyball position todoroki would play
❀ todoroki text hcs
❀ bnha boys as things me an my best friends have texted each other
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
kaminari denki
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
◉ i didn’t expect you to flirt back-
sypnopsis: denki couldn’t help but to hit on the boba shop worker, but what happens when the worker flirts back?
❀ denki with a crush that checks them out
❀ denki with a theatre kid s/o
❀ bnha boys as things me an my best friends have texted each other
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
kirishima eijirou
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
◉ hello? attention please?
synopsis: clingy kirishima cute and all, but you gotta binge the ghibli movies together
❀ what volleyball position kirishima would play
❀ bnha boys as things me an my best friends have texted each other
tamaki amajiki
❀ boyfriend hcs
synopsis: just random heacannons
◉ thanks for coming over... (imagine)
synopsis: tamaki was having a rough night and he meant to talk to mirio but he ends up calling you and he is begging for you to get to his dorm
❀ what volleyball position tamaki would play
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
miro togata
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
◉ you’re still my hero ♥︎
synopsis: after finding more about eri, you working on the case as well you witness mirio acting strange, he believes he is no longer a hero, you comfort him through his doubt.
shinsou hitoshi
❀ bubble tea orders
synopsis: what would they order at a bubble tea/boba shop
◉ it’s too late to say sorry (imagine)
synopsis: hitoshi shinsou is known to be a top tier player, you only saw his as a jerk that toyed with other people's feelings, he was on his way for changing for the better; but he blew it.
there is a part two: forgiveness is a virute..
synopsis: synopsis: after kendo called out shinsou for being a grade a jerk, he goes off and gets immensely jealous, and he hopes and prays that he will be able to make amends
❀ childhood friends to lovers
❀ dating president mic’s child
❀ shinsou with a crush that has a body pillow
❀ shinsou with a crush that checks them out
❀ shinsou sfw alphabet (1k event)
❀ shinsou with a cold crush that opens up eventually
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
sero hanta
❀ sfw alphabet (1k event)
iida tenya
❀ falconer! s/o
❀ how he would react to his s/o moaning in his ear for a tik tok
momo yaoyorozu
❀ falconer! s/o
dabi
◉ crash the party (imagine)
synopsis: joining the league of villains is kind of difficult especially if you’re getting teased by the most infuriating male you have ever come to cross with. so maybe get him a little jealous by going to a coffee shop with twice and let him crash the party
❖ i hate it here.. but you make it worth it
aizawa shouta
◉ meeting the kids ♥︎
synopsis: you and shouta have been in a relationship for almost a year but you get the feeling he is hiding something from you, so you find out he has kids, and you just so happen to meet all 20 of them.. in the mall.. when one of them was hitting on you..
❀ aizawa with a crush that owns a body pillow
❀ aizawa with an anxious s/o
❖ did you just say uwu ?
❖ jk jk.. unless..
poly! with pres mic
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if you had a clone of yourself, what would you do ?
i'd pry see if I could seduce myself
And after royally failing, I'd try to have us both start a business career
and after that fails
I'd release it into the wild
then after many years of not hearing a peep from them, find out that they are now a business person with a 6 figure income
They've now retired and live with a lovely wife and husband
I try to mooch off them and create a toxic relationship
They tell me I have to leave in a month, enough time to figure out another place to live
In that time, instead of find a place to go, I get jealous of their life
Why do they have love, money and a stable home and not I?
I'm them, they are me we should be equal
I AM THEM THEY ARE ME-
Then it hits me
I need to kill them and take their life
But I know I won't fool their wife and husband, so I have to make a plan and make it good
I sit my clone down and ask them everything about their life so I can "try and become as good and happy as them"
Them being a soft lil bitch, agree to it
I learn everything I need to know [Cus im an over sharer at heart-]
Then I plan how to kill them, and once the final week comes
I do it
I make sure there no mess or any trial leading up to me
Then I stage a huge accident that happened on a small vacation
Something so bad happened that I lost bits of my memory
I already have shit memory so my new spouses won't think too much of it
a year go by and I get into a huge accident leading me to the hospital
My wife and husband rush in to see me
But they're mortify when they see me
I had gotten up and waked around in those shitty hospital gowns
My wife asks me, in a shaky voice, "Where's ur tattoo?... Oh sans undertale? Where-"
I'm confused and anxious I ask her what she means
She replies "You got a tattoo of Sans undertale saying Deez nuts on ur ass years ago! WHERE IS IT??"
I try to make up excuse but she believes none of them
I break under the pressure and spill the beans
"I'M NOT UR LOVER. I'M THEIR CLONE-"
They call the cops and I'm taken into custody for the murder of my clone...
After I'm sentenced to jail for 50 years
I'm left their to rot...
One day, I sit in the dinning hall, the TV is playing the news as usual
Then I see them talk about a new hit actor...
It's... ANOTHER ME
ANOTHER CLONE???
HOW
NO-
I couldn't be the same one I killed? Could it?
I watch more and see an interview, and one the questions this other clone is asked is if they ever got a tattoo
They clone chuckled the looked directly at the camera and said, "Yep, I got Sans undertale saying 'Deez nuts' on my butt. Dumb, I know."
The way they said it, the way they looked into the camera as if they were ... MOCKING ME
KNOWING I WOULD SEE IT...
I'm sent back into my cell... and there
I plot
I scheme
I p l a n
My escape, I'm coming for that clone... to finish the job ONCE AND FOR ALL
...
Or idk, I'd pry use them to do petty larceny
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Yo, idk if this is allowed but can I ask you these two questions: If Eragon falls in love with someone else and ends up in a relationship with them, would there be a lot of tension between Arya and said person? Also how would Arya react if she's called out on some of her more toxic behaviour? No hate towards Arya, I just want to see more of her character, good and bad. (I also just rather see her and Eragon as close friends than lovers)
This is totally, completely allowed! I don’t want anybody to feel uncomfortable sending asks. As long as they’re sent with good intentions and are respectful, all questions are welcome on this blog!
And these are both great questions!
As always, I’m only offering up my opinion. Y’all are welcome to disagree with what I say. I love the discussions that happen in this fandom, and I’ll always keep an open mind.
If Eragon falls in love with someone else and ends up in a relationship with them, would there be a lot of tension between Arya and said person? ... (I also just rather see her and Eragon as close friends than lovers):
This is sort of a cop out, but I’m gonna say it would depend on who Eragon ended up with.
But ultimately, I think any tension or anxiety would come from Eragon or his new partner.
Our anxious boi would probably work himself into a state because he’s worried about how Arya will react, or the new partner would be jealous if he’s Still Pining over our favorite pine-scented elf (get it? GET IT? I’m funny).
And Arya, meanwhile, would just be sort of... chilling? She’s 100+ years old, so in part I expect and assume some maturity from her, and in part I don’t think she’s *currently* emotionally invested in any romance with Eragon. Arya thinks his feelings for her will change, so I’d imagine she’d be ok if exactly that happened.
Nobody asked, but if it were to happen, my bets are on Ästrith, one of the new characters briefly mentioned in The Fork the Witch and the Worm. I don’t have a reason as to why, but I’m just feeling it lol
but LISTEN. I actually feel like this could be a potential plot point of book 5. And it could be a good thing characterization-wise! We would get so much new insight into both of their characters! But....
idk if I want Eragon to fall in love with somebody else. :(
I’m so conflicted, nonny. I totally understand the part of fandom that is uncomfortable with Arya and Eragon ever getting together as a romantic ship, because I am too. But also, like, I have so much nostalgia tied up in this ship because it was the first pairing I really, truly cared about as a child. So I want them to happen, and to fall in love, but in a really, really specific way that would make it a healthy relationship dynamic and undo the problematic elements. Like #waitacentury.
I’m so excited for book 5, whenever that comes, but I’m also terrified that Arya and Eragon’s future relationship will be handled badly. So I’m going to completely, 100% agree with you about Arya and Eragon being better off as close friends. Because actually? I would totally be happy and content if we only ever got that. I would enjoy a healthy, platonic intimacy over a problematic, romantic one any day.
How would Arya react if she's called out on some of her more toxic behaviour? No hate towards Arya, I just want to see more of her character, good and bad.
Ok I’d love to see this. So much.
I adore this as a concept because it would really prompt a lot of character growth in her. And I get it! I want to see more of her character too, even if it means digging into the darker side of Arya.
But truthfully, I don’t think she would respond to having someone call out her toxic behavior very well... Like at all.
From what we’ve seen, she can be a little explosive (I’d argue that’s a symptom of residual trauma and PTSD, but that’s a topic for another post). So, I’d predict that she would become really defensive and angry, and she wouldn’t be receptive to any criticism of her character.
The elves in the series typically seem pretty stuck in their ways, but with her, I could see it as almost a reflexive, knee-jerk reaction. So maaaaayybe? She would self-reflect and be more open to change?
That’s really hard to say, but the concept does make an amazing Character Study.
The contradictions in her behavior and personality throughout the series are fascinating to me. And she’s definitely my favorite character, not because she’s flawless, but because she has such significant issues that she really needs to confront. It just gives so much potential to the storyline.
We stan one complex Queen.
#arya drottningu#inheritance cycle#eragon#eragon shadeslayer#arya#inheritance cycle books#the inheritance cycle#christopher paolini
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what are your favorite episodes of gilmore girls?
ooOOOOOOH GREAT QUESTION i’ll break it down season by season:
season one
pilot. i mean, obviously. it sets them all up so well, character-wise; plus, you can tell some episodes in season one that were filmed shortly after the pilot vs a while later, just bc of emily’s differing hair lengths
the lorelai’s first day at chilton: introduces such great characters (paris, madeline, louise) and also is such a great way to continue the transition into learning about this world
rory’s birthday parties: god. just. the stark difference between emily and richard’s world vs stars hollow...... the found family of practically all of stars hollow showing up to rory’s home party...... “lorelai’s right. i don’t know my daughter at all.”...... God
forgiveness and stuff: like, gOD. a masterclass of acting especially from kelly bishop and lauren graham; it hits so differently after edward hermann’s actual passing. luke and lorelai’s relationship displayed on what he’d do for her. lord!
paris is burning: paris................ the Beginning of turning from enemies to friends...... plus, like, you get to see some of lorelai’s commitment issues, which plays out throughout the entire series (sometimes To My Great Aggravation)
concert interruptus: the bangles 🥺paris and rory 🥺
christopher returns: i mean. you see the dynamic between rory and christopher, lorelai and christopher, and emily, richard, and christopher, which just paints such a clearer picture of what lorelai’s life might have been like back then. PLUS, emily being soft toward rory; it’s one of my fave relationship moments for them, and i kind of regret taking that line from her and giving it to christopher in wyliwf.
star crossed lovers and other strangers: the same way we get to see emily and rory, we get to see richard and lorelai; also, you can see how lorelai’s commitment issues might have inadvertently affected rory in this. plus i love love LOVE the backstory of the stars hollow lovers festival, i wish they’d repeated it in later seasons!
emily in wonderland: i really wish you’d gotten to see the effect of learning about lorelai and rory living in the shed play out more than a one-episode arc, i really wish we did, but like. emily bishop, once again, acting her damn heart out. phenomenal.
season two
the road trip to harvard: you get to see the beginnings of how rory leaving for college might affect lorelai, plus you get to see rory in her ivy league habitat. luke getting so suddenly, “inexplicably” cheerful when he hears that lorelai’s not marrying max. and at the very ending emily being sympathetic to max. bless it.
nick & nora/sid & nancy: first jess ep. “dodger.” what else is there to say. points off lorelai tho for immediately losing it at jess when he snarks at her, when, like, that is your move, lorelai, you should recognize that?
presenting lorelai gilmore: rory stepping more and more into her grandparents’ world in a way lorelai never wanted to; though i don’t ship christopher and lorelai, their dance scene is adorable. plus, emily and richard fighting a bit and the beginnings of richards (seasons long!) arc about his journey with his work.
the ins and oust of inns: MIA. you get to see mia for the first time! lorelai and sookie having a fight is :( but you get to see lorelai’s turmoil over actually leaving the inn. emily coming to see mia! luke yelling at the town over them being rude about luke! lorelai coming to his defense! rory telling jess off and jess wordlessly fixing luke’s toaster in silent apology!
the bracebridge dinner: GOD. love it. the horses and carriages! the absurd historical acting! emily and richard! rory and jess! luke and lorelai! it’s fantastic!
a-tisket, a-tasket: I LOVE THIS EPISODE. some of the town absurdity that was just A Plus. “it’s not like she’s shipping off to ‘nam!” is a great line. jackson proposing to sookie! and poor lane........
there’s the rub: emily and lorelai, seeing how great they could get along, but seeing how either of them wreck it just when it’s getting a-okay. god. it’s just such a great microcosm of their relationship.
dead uncles and vegetables: luke......... Luke. lorelai and rory and jess all rallying around him in their ways, and stars hollow by extension. even tho they were pretty shitty at first, they, like. managed to make it up to him in the end.
lorelai’s graduation day: GOD LAUREN GRAHAM, KELLY BISHOP, AND EDWARD HERMANN KILL IN THE GRADUATION SCENE!!!!! i ADORE that shot of the three of them, gets me every single time!!! the only thing i dislike about it is rory accidentally missing the graduation bc....... :/. like. i really like jess. but. come on.
i can’t get started: sookie’s wedding!!! her freaking out over the cake so much in her dress is So Her, she looked so pretty omg! plus, if the spa ep is a good microcosm of emily and lorelai, this is a great microcosm for christopher and lorelai. plus!!!! RORY AND JESS FIRST KISS!!!!!!
season three (look, full disclosure, seasons 3/4 are like. my faves. so)
haunted leg: gosh. lauren graham kills it in that last couple scenes. plus! kirk asking lorelai out on a date is hilarious! emily and lorelai’s lunch at luke’s going So Bad! and i know that not a ton of people like the francie chilton student politics intrigue subplot isn’t great for some people, but i do think that the potential was Great and there are definitely some really good scenes that arose from that subplot, so
take the deviled eggs... like. just. a great blend of town insanity (patty’s new boy, the town loner pitching a protest no one knows the reason behind) and lorelai and rory bonding (by deviled-egging jess’ CAR) and just!!! yes!!!!
they shoot gilmores, don’t they?: i mean. come ON. what list would be complete without this? literally every single favorites list has this episode on there. the dance marathon is the perfect example of town insanity! lane and dave getting their bonding! that little luke and lorelai moment about having kids! that scene of rory crying into lorelai’s shoulder!
a deep-fried korean thanksgiving: i love the whole “three thanksgivings” thing. Can Relate, Do Understand. i think that lorelai freaking out at rory for applying to yale is definitely a contrived subplot (i mean. she was never going to apply to only harvard. ma’am.) but i do like seeing sookie, and luke and jess, and just.... Yeah
dear emily and richard: our ONLY flashback ep! while i do think that only lauren graham can really pull lorelai off, the actress is, like, fairly decent (young christopher, however, does not really fit) and you just! yeah! you get to see them back in their youth and FINALLY get the context of how lorelai ran away!
the big one: like! yay paris! lorelai’s reaction (”i’ve got the good kid!”) is Gross, Frankly! it’s gross and bad! but also poor paris 🥺but!!! rory helping to comfort her afterwards!! richard falling asleep in the middle and having No idea of what just went down is also inexplicably hilarious to me!
those are strings, pinocchio: i mean. it’s the graduation episode. God. i just???? god. it’s such a great episode, there’s so many great moments, i just. 🥺
season four
the lorelais’ first day at yale: a great little titling parallel to chilton, but also, rory panicking when lorelai leaves is like. such a Thing ya know??? i just. yeah. i really like that ep it’s a nice introduction
the festival of living art: one, this show won its only emmy bc of the makeup, so that alone is great. uh, kirk being so adversary to the guy who plays judas is god tier humor! plus! sookie and jackson having their baby!
ted koppel’s big night out: THE FOOTBALL GAME EPISODE! i actually kind of love it, but more the first half than the latter; it’s such an emily and richard way to prepare for a football game, you know? and then meeting pennilyn lott! igniting the arc of emily and richard having doubts about their marriage which has Acting! Moments! but this also has jason and lorelai’s first date, which i Dislike, bc i Dislike Jason Very Much.
nag hammadi is where they found the gnostic gospels: seeing jess come back into town and you get to see how unfinished things are between him and rory..... the luke angst..... Yes.
the incredible sinking lorelais: a very realistic part of college, imo, in which you feel overwhelmed and anxious and EVERYTHING SUCKS NOW CAN I JUST CALL MY MOM, though i wish they’d set it up a bit more and followed it longer than an episode, and also that rory hadn’t gone to dean; but also, trix, and richard standing up to her, which!
scene in a mall: idk i just love this episode? seeing emily in her shopping element; seeing her break down in that way; seeing how shopping is like, one of her Only ways to execute power, and how she’s kind of jealous of lorelai’s career bc she was born into a generation where the only thing it was really acceptable for her to do was cultivate a husband and a nice house; plus!!! that last bit of emily and richard and the apples at the table just BREAKS your heart!!!
girls in bikinis, boys doin’ the twist: SPRING BREAAAAK which is so unexpected for paris and rory and therefore very funny. you get to see madeline and louise again—i actually really love their characters, lmao! paris and rory kiss! just! yeah!
tick, tick, tick, boom!/afterboom: another “idk i just enjoy it” episode. richard and floyd coming to a head; kirk’s easter egg hunt; seeing little davey. however i have some Words for rory because lindsay deserves better??? i understand that she could get a part time job but also MIND YOUR BUSINESS?????? dean’s the one taking classes! that’s an unnecessary expense! he has two jobs!! he’s allowed to take a pause!!! also i can’t believe i’m forced to defend dean right now!!! fuck asher, tho, but yay! breaking up with jason!!! yay breaking up with jason!!!!!!
luke can see her face/last week fights, this week tights: i can’t, okay??? i literally had to. the beginning of jess’ (admittedly mostly off-screen) development arc! luke and the self-help books! the absurdity of the renaissance wedding! the WEDDING DANCE!!!
raincoats and recipes: truly an episode has never gone from such a “FUCK YESSSSSS FINALLY” scene to a “FUCK NOOOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGG” but honestly it’s just. it’s Such a fantastic episode like i can’t
season five
written in the stars: their first date 🥺the horoscope 🥺”i am in, lorelai. i am all in.” 🥺 HER GOING DOWNSTAIRS IN JUST HIS SHIRT 🥺 HIM YELLING AT THE TOWN ABOUT HOW IT’S THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS 🥺🥺🥺
we got us a pippi virgin: literally the concept alone of “nearly coming to blows via bop it” is great. also luke being like “rory is like pippi!” and showing off what a high regard he holds her in 🥺
emily says hello: LITERALLY so many great little things about this episode. emily deciding she wants to try dating! rory and christopher snapping at each other! KELLY BISHOP’S ACTING AFTER THE DATE WHEN SHE CLOSES THE DOOR ON HIM AND BURSTS INTO TEARS!!!!!!!
women of questionable morals: the dog.
wedding bell blues: HUNDREDTH EPISODE couldn’t NOT make it on here, so here it is!!! luke and lorelai looking at each other when she’s next to the aisle! luke and christopher both yelling and logan—AcTING! also emily being so manipulative even on her second wedding day, it’s just So classically her, and kelly bishop and lauren graham in the final scene is just. Mwah!
so... good talk: rory literally stepping into lorelai’s shoes for a dinner and being the one to snap at emily and richard is Such a role reversal for her but honestly whenever it does happen i actually really enjoy seeing the dichotomy between the grandparents seeing rory as their perfect little second chance and lorelai seeing her as her mini-me and how rory walks the line between each. AND THAT ENDING KISS SCENE BETWEEN LUKE AND LORELAI????? I CAN’T?????
pulp friction: LORELAI CONTINUING TO ICE OUT EMILY AND RICHARD!!!!! the yelling scene at the diner!!!! plus seeing the chilton skirt come out again was nice imo i too have reused private schoolwear
season six (the season, admittedly, i have watched the least)
we’ve got magic to do: the outfits of the dar bash. paris’ sudden dedication to the proletariat. emily’s rant to shira. that is all
twenty-one is the loneliest number: them finally starting to talk; “this is luke, my soon-to-be-stepfather”; the pastor scene is also just. hilarious. but also so very richard and emily
let me hear your balalaikas ringing out: lorelai’s emotions toward paul anka being sick Oof and luke and the soccer team lmao but also JESS RETUUUUURNS!!!!! RORY SNAPS OUT OF IT!!!!!! FINALYYYYYYY!!!!
friday night’s alright for fighting: literally the montage of all of them intercut with fighting and them sitting in silence while the other two yell in the background to them laughing is just. Peak gilmore
this turned out..... even longer than expected lmao
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