#but now comparing it to their actual portraits with this blocking...

[chirpsythismorning]

This specific frame reminded me of something…

For those who still can’t see it, allow me to elaborate.

#byler #static kiss #the rink o mania lights bouncing off of will's face and the yellow from mike's shirt peaking in the corner #is so real to me #but now comparing it to their actual portraits with this blocking... #i can't unsee it #like tell me why the static kiss looks more like them then my cracked rendition?? #maybe bc they're actually kissing in that one and mine is just their faces smashed together #also editing this i felt like a byler back in the day making manips using mileven kissing in s3 lmaooo #this was mostly my unhinged way of trying to visualize what i'm seeing for those that say they can't see it at all #and btw if you don't know what the static kiss is... #i'm sorry i don't feel like explaining it in the tags #just search static kiss on my profile ! #and if you still can't see it... #consider yourself lucky

[theunvanquishedzims]

You know what would be cool? A VR video game/art program that lets you play with different mediums.

Specifically thinking of hammer and chisel and a giant marble block, the kind of thing financially and logistically out of 99% of people's reach, but still desirable. Being able to play around, get an idea of what kind of work goes into a statue, designing your own, and being able to start over as many times as you want? Having SAVE POINTS?

"Zims, they'll just make giant penises and SpongeBob memes." Yeah, and? It's a game. Let people play.

"It'll never compare to the experience of being a real sculptor!" Yeah, and? Cooking shows don't feed the people watching, but it's still educational and inspiring.

"People will start to undervalue real art if they think they can do something similar!" Yeah, and? Rock Band let people enjoy the experience of being a musician, but few actually believed the skills would translate to real instruments. This isn't new. Let people have fun.

It's not just marble sculpture either. Wood carving. Sand portraits. Oil painting. Basket weaving. Cake decorating. Snowman building. Any and all artistic mediums, endless supplies and storage, all for the price of a single game.

We have the technology, let's make the future now.

#art #video games #virtual reality

[markantonys]

while i'm on the subject of trakand speculation, i'm going to properly lay out my theory that moiraine won't be related to them in the show.

the show is very good at planning ahead. since s2 introduced elayne and they knew s3 would introduce the rest of the family, the s2 damodred family plotline would've been an absolutely perfect opportunity to set up moiraine's connection to the trakands (numerous occasions where she or anvaere could've mentioned having a now-dead brother, or there could've been a little boy included in the young sisters portrait). since that didn't happen and s2 very very strongly implied it was only ever the 2 sisters and their 2 parents, it makes me suspect that connection has been axed.

per a leak from the actor's cv, it seems galad is named galad trakand in the show. this could certainly just be a change made to group him more explicitly with the trakand family without removing his damodred heritage, but it could also indicate that his dad was not a damodred in showverse.

the only thing their dad being a damodred matters for that i can think of is that it gives elayne a claim on the cairhienin throne. but the show could easily just say their dad was from a different cairhienin noble family, and depending on how many seasons it gets, elayne claiming the sun throne may get axed as a plot point altogether and so this may be irrelvant.

let's be real, moiraine being their aunt is a funny piece of trivia but it does not matter in the books at all. it just doesn't. and the show going "oh moiraine's their aunt btw" but not doing anything with that information - that just raises too many unnecessary questions and curiosities, especially since moiraine is a bigger character in the show than in the books so we'd naturally want to see her spending time with elayne if it was revealed they were aunt and niece. so imo, the show has 2 choices: 1) keep her as their aunt but actually do something with it (not the best use of time, and tricky to squeeze in since s3 is likely moiraine's last for a while and she won't have much opportunity to interact with elayne, gawyn, or galad) or 2) just make her not their aunt.

they could say that their dad was a damodred but just a more distant relative rather than moiraine's brother (although s2's whole Fallen House vibes did make it seem like moiraine, anvaere, and barthanes are the only damodreds left), or they could say he was a cairhienin noble from a different house, or they could say he was an andoran noble. but i'm not going to bank on him being closely related to moiraine in showverse. (now, there is the alleged s2 gawyn audition script that referred to an aunt that ruined his life, but considering that not a single line from that script, let alone gawyn himself, came even close to being in s2, i'm taking the whole thing with a massive block of salt lmao)

then, what about galad and rand's family connection? this one, i could go either way on.

i would put it in the same bucket where, for me personally, i think the show should only include it if they can do actually something with it in a way the books didn't, or else they should cut it. and i can see strong arguments for cutting it - the show's already on such a condensed schedule compared to the books that it might not be wise to allocate time to delving into a rand-galad brother relationship that isn't important even in the books; rand's love life is already unusual and ~controversial~ enough without getting into "he's dating his half-brother's half-sister" territory; galad's overall story hinges on his relationships with elayne, gawyn, and morgase and so that is where his family-related screentime should be focused; galad and rand's relationship is never relevant to rand's story and is only relevant to galad's very briefly during the last battle and in a way that's easily cut (it feels more like sanderson cramming it in out of obligation to try and make the relationship relevant, rather than that the relationship actually IS relevant).

my hot take is that the only reason so many readers care about rand and galad being brothers and want the show to get into it is because they love those two characters, but hate elayne and gawyn, and thus they subconsciously lend more importance to rand-galad than is merited, sometimes to the point of placing that relationship over galad's other sibling relationships. but if you actually look at the story, it's the galad-elayne-gawyn relationship that's crucial; galad-rand doesn't matter for jack shit. so i can very easily see the show cutting it and i don't think anything would be broken by this. just say that tigraine was unmarried & childless when she went to the waste, and that galad's bio mom was some other andoran noblewoman (or even morgase herself to really simplify the family tree, though him being her stepson is something i WOULD be kinda sad to lose because it's a very sweet relationship and we don't often get to see positive stepparent/stepchild relationships in media).

okay where was i. anyway, i won't say that i strongly predict the rand-galad connection WILL be cut, or that i would be upset if it was left in and touched upon in more detail than the books did (i wouldn't be upset at all!). the show HAS historically been good at making more of some emotional beats or connections than the books did. for example, i could see them keeping the whole galad-tigraine-rand backstory & connections intact, and using the fact that his bio mom abandoned him to flesh out galad's character and explain why he is the way he is, in a similar way to how nynaeve's parents' deaths went from "just briefly mentioned and never seems to affect her" in the books to "major formative event in her childhood that explicitly shapes who she is as an adult" in the show (yeah you can argue that galad's backstory shaped him in the books, but that idea is barely in the text from what i remember because he truly does spend just about all his time & energy dwelling on his stepfamily). so it really is just a question of "will the show choose to streamline things by cutting an extraneous connection that isn't important in the books" or "will the show choose to take an extraneous connection that isn't important in the books and make it important", and that's hard to guess at because there have been plenty of examples of both approaches in the show so far.

so time will tell on the rand-galad connection! but i do feel fairly confident in predicting that the moiraine-trakands connection will be cut. but am still prepared to put on my clown shoes once 3x01 has a scene of elayne being like "oh hey aunt moiraine" jkdjfg

#wot #wot book spoilers #maybe i should have a proper s3 speculation tag at this point given how much of it i do! #wot s3 speculation

[vryfmi]

POSTER ANALYSIS BECAUSE MY BRAIN REFUSES TO BELIEVE LOCKWOOD&CO IS ACTUALLY BECOMING A REAL TV SHOW

beware: a long post

- SKULL IS HERE SKULL IS HERE SKULL IS HERE honestly, after "the Golden Blade" character that really threw me off it's good to see this iconic bastard appear on screen. low key sad it's not pulling any faces (yet)

- “Hunt or be Haunted”. this one really took me by surprise. the change of tagline suggests that our smallest agency in London and their business is no longer the only focus of the story. it gives more of a feel of survival story rather then underdogs type of story tho. we'll see where it goes

- the logo is growing on me, it still looks too polished to me, compared to any of book logos which were, well, logos, and here it's just font. but it goes nicely with brutalism aesthetic, sPEAKING OF WHICH-

- yall see this? they are actually going with brutalism for their world?? not a sugar-coated London with beautiful scenery of old european city?? thank you l&co crew i love you for doing your hw.

<...> For a while any object even dimly supposed to have some kind of psychic residue was treated with terror and disgust. Items of old furniture were burned, and random antiques smashed or thrown into the Thames. A priceless painting in the National Portrait Gallery was hurled to the floor and trampled on by a vicar, ‘because it looked at me in a funny way’. Anything with a strong connection to the past was considered suspect, and a cult of modern objects grew up, which remains with us even now. <...>

there's nothing good in what past holds in their world. people are paranoid because no one knows where new outbreak will happen. of course there are blocks of concrete for flats, of course it's cold, of course it's surreal to see London like this. it's alternative London.

- i love these ghost lamps, they are my new fixation. they are so big and so out of place. obsessed even. ufo looking. my love. ghost lamp my beloved

- rapiers, you love to see those

everyone has a unique hilt. im so normal

- last but not least: composition. i think it ties nicely back to tagline change since, yes, it would be nice to see idk Portland Row being shown. but no, characters are in the middle of empty street, looking at something that we can't see. they are agents after all - seeing things outside regular person's comprehension is their thing. they are distressed but got their rapiers at ready. sky is getting dark, ghost lamp (my beloved) is on, quiet city is cowardly seen underneath. f i t t i e s i s b e h i n d e v e r y t h i n g

NOW ON TO THE CHARACTERS

they are all so awkward looking, my divvies

- SKULL my man got a nice looking prison, i like the handle, it's handy. now i see why Lucy will struggle while breaking this jar with poop statue. now waiting for his cast announcement :/

- Lucy got the biggest wardrobe update, kinda digging it. definitely more practical, but it's sad to see heavy boots go. but now everyone is much quicker on their feet, especially after seeing how fast these ghosts are. ARE THOSE FLARES ON HER BELT

- not to be that person, but Cameron was born for this role. really aching to seeing more of his acting and his way of bringing Lockwood on the big screen. also thank lord he's wearing trainers. he already has a safety hazard coat, if there was one more formal piece of clothing he’d died on spot- wait he still has a tie- credit goes to @lucyjcarlyle for pointing out Lockwood's ring, can't wait to find out it is a family relic and die inside

- George by Ali actually feels like George, right? baggy clothes, bag that weights him, something about his posture - all those things add to recognition of character despite differentiating from books’ description. it’s sad we didn’t get to see him in teaser

- and they all look relatively young! like this thumbnail really captures it

also, im not the only one who sees the iconic @doodlingraka's colour palette everywhere, right? because i dig it and i want more

in conclusion: it doesn’t look perfect, lets be honest here, but Cornish’s interview puts it all together in a perspective. this show is a love letter to horror movies of last century. they were clumsy, too, but they knew how to scare its viewer in a smart way. and that’s what books did, now it’s time to pay a tribute. at least i want to believe so

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #l&co #l&co. netflix #netflix #analysis #ghost lamps my beloveds #jonathan stroud #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #skull in the jar #the skull #ruby stokes #cameron chapman #ali hadji-heshmati #WHO VOICES OR EVEN BETTER PLAYS SKULL #NETFLIX YOU COWARD #.mypost

[flyfish1999]

UK Edge Magazine Issue 181 - November 2007 Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 (vanilla) in Reviews

this article is actually reviewing the american version rather than the european one - only because persona 3 vanilla hadn't yet come out in europe ! the eu recieved vanilla on february 29th, 2008, half a year after america. often forgotten is that persona 3 was europe's first persona game (but not first SMT, beaten by nocturne in 2005), having missed revelations and eternal punishment entirely. the review compares the gameplay of p3 to canis canem edit (bully, for all you ntscheads), and implies the reviewer opted for the kendo team in their playthrough ^_^

Transcription under the cut:

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 3 Format: PS2 Price: $50 (US), £30 (UK) Release: Out Now (US), TBC (UK) Publisher: ATLUS Developer: In-House

Suicide is painless?

Anyone who's ever complained that there aren't enough hours in the day will be pleased with Persona 3's premise. Soon after enrolling your character at the local Japanese high school you're accepted into a covert society and let in on an enormous secret: there are, in fact, 25 hours to a day. The extra 'dark hour', as it's known, occurs every night at midnight. The vast majority of the populace is unaware of its existence as, for its duration, they are rendered unconscious and sealed in coffins, oblivious to the shadow creatures that emerge outside and roam the world looking for prey. A few humans remain unaffected by the phenomenon and, as one of them, it's in the sparse company of these cognoscenti that your character finds himself after dark.

The group, called the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad, is responsible for holding back the shadow creatures' advance while trying to uncover the secrets of their origin, a huge multi-storey ephemeral tower named Tartarus, which emerges each night in the school grounds. Tartarus takes the form of an upwardly built dungeon whose Rogue-like floorplans change every visit. Your overarching mission is to scale the tower bit by bit (don't panic: a warp opens up every five floors) while leveling up and discovering new Personas: creatures that can be summoned to aid you in battle.

While this is a little traditional, the dark hour is just one element to an unorthodox game whose scenario manages to twist it out of the firm grasp of its JRPG roots. In the main this is achieved by the dark hour's counterpoint: daytime, during which you participate in the lessons, clubs and societies of a Japanese school. Here, in a similar way to Canis Canem Edit, you're tasked with daily studying, exam taking and after-school clubs and sports, all minigame-style pursuits that are used as a means to build and enhance your character's abilities. Three core stats (academics, charm and courage) must be raised by taking part in a wide range of different activities from enrolling in the school's kendo team to visiting the karaoke bar in the local mall of an evening. Raising these statistics while building and fostering relationships in school is crucial to creating stronger Personas to make your character more powerful on the nightly battlefield. By linking the game directly to 2009's school term calendar and breaking every day into seven distinct stages (from early morning through lunchtime to late at night), you quickly settle into the comfortable rhythm of a education system, which provides an excellent framework for the disparate mechanics to slot into.

The game's aesthetics are unusual for the genre. Low-poly environments, simple character models and drab lighting are the uninspiring visual building blocks. However, thanks to some ingenious use of beautiful anime artwork the game fizzes with life as character portraits zoom into shot to personify the dialogue while slick and design-conscious menus add some contemporary style.

As with any game that's based on repetitive tasks set in unchanging environments, its rhythm in time becomes a little monotonous. However, the frequent boss battles (introduced every few levels of Tartarus) and surprisingly compelling relationships you foster daily inspire perseverance. Games with distinctive souls are rare things but Persona 3 succeeds in displaying a mesmerising personality that touches the many well-crafted aspects of its curious and singular approach.

Captions, left to right:

Personas are ethereal creatures that are summoned from your unconscious mind to lend their abilities in battle. For this reason, the stronger your relationships with other students or groups the stronger your 'inner self' is and the more powerful your Personas will become. One of the most enduring images from the game comes from the way in which characters summon a Persona: by putting a gun (known in the game as an 'evoker') to their temple before pulling the trigger. To players not closely familiar with anime culture it's a shocking image that's used repeatedly, and since the game's release has attracted keen debate in the US as to its suitability.

Fans furious at the lack of a Japanese audio option have already released on the internet a patched version known as an 'undub', with English subtitles but original voices.

In battles, you only gain direct control over your own character. Your teammates can be given general directions (such as to major on offensive moves or healing) but their specific actions are handled by the competent AI.

You aren't forced to visit Tartarus every night. If you'd rather you can meet up with a friend at the local mall, visit a club in town or spend the evening at your desk studying, all of which level up aspects of your personality.

Persona cards can be fused together with one another to create entirely new monsters, and much of the deeper level of play is concerned with maximising resources to uncover the most powerful Personas in the game.

#persona 3 #edge magazine #i should probably have a tag for the info i uncover like this ehehe .. ! #i havent seen scans of this magazine anywhere before :p and also i think pal video game history is so overlooked #sorry it's a bit wonky ! it's an odd size ^_^

[ohchosen]

AUTHOR PORTRAIT ... get to know the author behind the blog! repost, don't reblog !

BASICS

NAME:        val AGE:         24 PRONOUNS:         she / they YEARS OF WRITING:          ok how specific are we talking. because i can say like circa 2010 i was on facebook writing bad twilight fanfiction + rp ( which then progressed into bad thg fanfiction ) or i can say elementary school and my little short stories i was always ad - libbing. regardless, it's definitely something i've had a knack for my whole life and it was literally just a matter of time before i found out about rp. and yes before you ask it was my personal facebook. when i was 11. that had all of my relatives added. yes they saw it. years writing on tumblr is different and i think i jumped ship and found out about tumblr rp around 2012 / 2013 and with that came my first formative decision which was to watch supernatural. you know where this is going. yes it was bad. no i'm not showing anyone.

REFLECTION

WHY DID YOU PICK UP WRITING?           i needed a hobby and had unrestricted internet access. i kind of answered this in the question before so jokes on me blah blah blah but without getting too personal i had a very difficult time in school with mental health and tumblr, known weird kid haven, was my little safe space where i could freely pursue what i enjoyed and was really my first venture into fandom spaces. i started in the supernatural rpc [ horror music ] and slowly meandered my way through book fandoms, to animanga, and finally settled on the video game community where i've been good and SAT for like six years now.

DO YOU HAVE ANY WRITING ROUTINES?          not necessarily. it's a miracle if i'm able to sit down long enough to open up my drafts and get going, but if i can lock in i'm all set. i find it hard to listen to music while writing because my brain cannot separate the two and i will accidentally start writing down the lyrics but i've never actually considered tuning into instrumentals so ,, thank you vos. writing that down............

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PART ABOUT WRITING?         stealing from vos in stealing answer solidarity but the rp community aspect. it can be awful and exhausting as some of us know good and well but it can also be incredible depending on who you surround yourself with. it's so validating finding people who share your little niche interest or even niche - er pairing ( hi vos ) and then to just completely devolve into sending memes and posts and screaming until 2 am in dms. i've met so many of my closest friends through rp, and stealing vos' answer again, but the characters i write who turn out the most developed are those who have been shared with friends. noctis would be nowhere near as fleshed out as he is if not for the people i met in the ff fandom all those years ago.

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING.         oughhghh, um. i'm bad at taking compliments and even worse at complimenting myself so bare with me.

i've definitely grown a lot in terms of style and prose, and i'm actually pretty happy with what i'm able to spit out in terms of aesthetic styling as compared to even a few years ago. one of my biggest insecurities ( that still pops up here and again mind you ) was never being able to match length, and i was in the worst writers' block for a few years that i finally managed to escape out of around 2020 and now i can confidently say i'm writing more regularly than i ever have. so to answer the question: it has been my personal growth in my writing and it turning into something i can be confident in and proud of.

i really do enjoy the mundanity of editing my replies. i love to see the progress i make edit by edit and how cohesive and put together a piece of writing becomes the longer i work on it. i fully 100% devote myself to one reply at a time, which is a nightmare for quantity but sooooooo rewarding if it means i can put something out to the best of my ability and not stress myself out worrying about whatever else i owe. i am a self appointed slowpoke, and i've learned over the years to not let myself feel guilty about that because as long as it can become something i devote time on and put effort into, then it really shouldn't bother me how long it takes.

three things is too much to ask for lets all just walk away slowly.

A QUESTION FOR THE NEXT PERSON

HAVE  YOU  MADE  ANY  STRONG  CONNECTIONS  /  FRIENDS DURING YOUR TIME WRITING?          i'm pretty sure this question was intended for vos only but its way too late now and i've already written your accolades so you have to deal with it. this post is just going to be exceptionally long now.

vos @stagehunt my right hand man who has been with me for every gacha related poor financial decision. everything you said i'm literally sending right back to you. i knew no one in that fandom and was in way out of my depth before stumbling across you and your blog. i am so thankful we crossed paths and shoved our little barbie dolls together and said kiss because developing, and i mean really developing tomo would not have happened without your input. at this point you definitely deserve writing credits on him too because the way he turned out would be nowhere near the same if not for your influence. i've had a blast experiencing genshin's story with you and knowing without fail you'll be thinking the exact same thing whenever hyv fumbles the bag again, and yes. one day i GUESS i'll play more than 7 hours of hsr. luv u xoxo.

plum, @sherez, my love, my heart. it's crazy how fast the years have flown by and now all of a sudden i've known you since 2018??? i still remember seeing you from afar on ez and always being blown away by how much love and devotion you put into your characters. we are quite literally bonded for life after surviving the [ redacted ] rpc and i can't think of anyone better to come out beside than you. you can't get rid of me bitch!!!!!!!!! the amount of effort and care i've seen you throw into v, and how far she's come in terms of development blows me away. she is easily one of the best written characters i've ever had the pleasure of reading and i am so excited to keep following her growth. besides how freakishly talented you are, it's astonishing how much we have in common. bc who tf else would i be talking to about forgotten mcr lore in the year of our lord 2024. if no one got me, i know plum got me. booket....... booket for my sweety.......

lu @tactition its crazy how in the short little time we've spent together how much i've bonded with u. if i got down on one knee and pulled out a ring would u say yes.... my yaoi soulmate........ its INSANE how well our character Types (tm) mesh together, and i know karma is coming with its kiss for me when i finally download nier and have to atone for what i put u thru when i made you play final fantasy. please be gentle with me im delicate........... real talk tho.. you have so quickly become such an important person in my daily life and i literally feel myself go !!!! whenever i see a new dm from you because i know its always gonna be good. your character takes blow me away and even for myself who's nearly 7 years deep into the final fantasy scene, it amazes me how you still manage to shed light and new perspective on characters i've known for years. let’s kiss freaky style.

i've very much condensed my little bubble into people i actually want to surround myself with atp, and there's always a handful of mutuals on every blog that i don't necessarily talk to but who have been with me for years now so. sorry you can't leave or i'll become a danger to myself and others. kisses :*

WHERE DO YOU DRAW THE MOST INSPIRATION FROM? this is definitely a muse - specific question since it varies from character to character. with noctis specifically, it's mostly music. i have a few different playlists for him after writing him for so long, and while i can't listen while i write they all offer different types of mood setting for him. other times, its media involving fantasy tropes or characters that have similar struggles to him, off the top of my head ( and something i connected early on ) is the character u.enoyama r.itsuka from given. there's a lot i could say here regarding which aspects i took inspiration from but the majority was the similar personality he has to noctis, the internal thought process he offered when i read the manga, and the way he struggled with his sexuality that struck the loudest chord. don't quote me on any of that since i haven't been caught up with given for like 5 years now but !!!!! yeah the end.

NEW QUESTION: how do you relate to your character personally? are there any overt similarities to the two of you?

tagged by @stagehunt my lover..... tagging - @lunabrae @tactition @sherez

#tw wall of text jesus christ #* ˖ · 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 — local man ruins everything .

[lutethebodies]

LTB Tav Tuesdays: Drem Sion, the Relentless Defender

My third Tav is based on the first character I ever made for D&D 2e circa 1991, so he's a bit unique—a blend of several characters I found compelling as a tween and teen in the late '80s/early '90s. I lifted his name from the young protagonist of Warrior Scarlet, Rosemary Sutcliff's 1958 story about a Celtic boy in pre-Roman Britain, but as a grown-up martial artist my Drem is not a wee kid.

His look and demeanor is a combination of the monk/master character from Final Fantasy I (floppy dark hair, blue robes) with Donatello the Ninja Turtle (a clever, focused, disciplined, staff-wielding thinker). So the (arguably rightfully much-derided) monk clothes actually work well for his look. I wish I still had his 2e stat block with the Shadowdark-like sketch-portrait I made, but that's long lost. These days I think he holds up as the bare bones of a character, so filling the gaps in 5e and BG3 has been fun.

I'll keep Drem's rather convoluted 5e backstory-bio super-short compared to previous Tavs, because he's actually got two: as a PC in my brother's homebrew campaign, and as an NPC in my own campaign. As a PC, he's less of an austere monk and more of a brawler/pugilist/enforcer for Guild-type organizations (the 5e "monk" is such a janky idea that I've ended up using it less for flavor and more for mechanics).

As an NPC, he was sort of a Jaheira/Minsc-like folk hero from a century prior, but when encountered by my players he was most definitely (and unwillingly) undead; indeed the subplot of that particular adventure was to help him find his final peace, because his ashes also unlocked a particular macguffin. It seemed a fitting way to send off my original character and put my own 2e era to rest.

In BG3 Drem is probably the most "moral" character I'll be playing (criminal background and shadow subclass notwithstanding), and to date he's one of my least-progressed playthroughs, because it's taken me a while to get the hang of the Monk as a class. However, post-Patch 5 he's gone well: being "good" enough to romance Karlach (and only Karlach) and be Wyll's best bro, while deftly playing off the whims of more ambitious/ambivalent companions like Astarion or Gale, and doing his unarmed-fighting best to keep on Lae'zel's good side.

I'm not sure how his run will end up—as of right now he's made it as far as Karlach's dinner date in Act 3—but RP-wise I'm confident he'll do the right things in crunch time. For better or worse that's what folk heroes do, right? At the very least I've gotta go back and replay him to get better screen shots, because I find the "standard stoic Tav" poses sorely lacking, personality-wise. For a less-developed character like this who's more a cipher than many of the others, that's a problem, even if he is my "oldest" character overall.

His in-universe homebrew bio goes like this:

"A Kalen warrior-monk and legendary folk hero, Drem looms large in local tales of the early Ryvellian Era, mentioned frequently in Volumes 6-9 of "The Urgent Chronicles" purporting to document that time. Born circa 403 AD in the Krettan town of Caerdeva outside Scarnasa, Drem escaped what’s described as a chaotic childhood to become a student of ancient Anuelidathi unarmed defense at a young age. Taking up with the Unseen as a young man, Drem led a life of adventure with his elven companions Slie Senescha and Qaminyo Lythar, basing themselves in Dramdoc and eventually allying with the Amrysii to help restore House Luradh to the Kalen throne in 426 AD."

"Retained by King Amrys, enviously spurned by his successor Cafnys, and returned to prominence by Cafnys’ son Ryvell, Drem and his friends defended the Kalen High Kingdom against Vaali invaders via espionage and dirty tricks, which Ryvell’s honor prevented him from doing directly. Eventually such assignments proved to be Drem’s undoing, for after retrieving the Soul Key from Saalurun he was captured and defeated in Haervudt by his own assassination target, a renegade Broken Hand Brother named Nikolai Nisse, in 447 AD."

(Image and text from The Nua Gazetteer, Volume 1)

#ltb tav tuesdays #bg3 #bg3 oc #bg3 ocs #drem the defender #bg3 monk #bg3 tav #my ocs #my bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my bg3 character #my bg3 ocs #tav tuesday

[brokenbluebouquet]

2/xx, Charles I on horseback 1630s, royal collections trust

CW: historical ableism and medical abuse

This is partially inspired by a post by James-vi-Stan-blog regarding Charles and disability. Thus one is also loooong as there’s a lot to unpack to apologies in advance, gentle readers.

What did Charles I actually look like? More to the point, how visibly disabled was he?

This is actually a harder question to answer than you’d think. Charles is generally agreed to have been very short as an adult man, with estimates from 5’6” to 4’7” even with head still attached. His legs were short compared to his body and bowed. You can sort of see this in the above picture.

He also famously had some sort of speech issue, traditionally a stutter but possibly slurred speech from weakened facial muscles. This has often been an explanation for his refusal to explain himself and his secrecy. Like his father he considered playing to the crowds demeaning, hated the stigmatising stares directed at his physical body, and was fearful of assassins.

Charles has confused the situation considerably by trying to erase his own impairments and differences under a thick cloak of idealised portraits, elaborate court etiquette that prevented anyone getting too close in public, and the rare heavily stage managed public appearance. To say nothing of the Van Dyck portraits that have been heavily face tuned, an equestrian statue commissioned by one of his ministers to flatter him, showed him absurdly as 6 feet tall - it still stands in London today.

However, even in his own lifetime, parliamentarian propaganda painted him as the second coming of Richard III (who we now know had severe scoliosis and was also quite short), or as a weak legged, tongue tied fool. The block at his execution was deliberately low to force him to lie down as opposed to kneeling to humiliate him. But what lies between these extremes?

Rickets as a knock on from a tongue tie is often put forward as the main explanation for his restricted growth and atypical proportions as an adult, but other explanations have been proposed including cerebral palsy, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, or some sort of hereditary neuromuscular disorder.

As a child and young man Charles was subjected to a number of proposed interventions including having the ligament under tongue cut (thankfully James was talked out if this), leg braces (reinforced boots were used instead), and talking with pebbles in the mouth (that ones from Plutarch and I think George vi tried it too).

The party line was that he grew out of it and that he was athletic as an adult. This isn’t totally impossible but seems to rely on the idea you can’t be both disabled and physically active. I personally believe that these were lifelong issues and Charles simply was good at finding accomodations and shortcuts to get around problems. The cane he is often shown with in portraits was probably to help him stand up and maintain balance. The stigma and bigotry he would have faced was a bigger issue as Charles himself seems to have internalised a lot of these beliefs about himself and people like him.

James found Charles to be the child he most resembled and his feelings about this were complicated to say the least. Although James often defended Charles against insults and abuse and tried to protect him to the extent of infantilising him instead of preparing him to be king; it’s also hard to avoid the fact that seeing himself reflected to this extent in his son and later heir was deeply disconcerting for James.

For example in 1616(?), in an attempt to complement James, a Latin pangeryc (praise poem) referred to Charles as a miniature James - James was far from impressed and in fact took it as an insult.

This is one of the (many) reasons why James turned his younger lovers into surrogate sons - they were not political threats like Henry, and did not make him uncomfortable like Charles.

Indeed the whole family seem to have found him an embarrassment. This really should not come as a surprise given how obsessed with image and status they were. Anna and Elizabeth just seemed to have ignored him, and Henry seems to have had a particular contempt for him, something Charles seems to have found particularly wounding.

Indeed, Elizabeth only really tried to connect with Charles when she needed his help after the “getting exiled after picking a fight with the emperor” debacle; which tells you a lot. For some time she fancied the idea of herself as the next monarch after her father - this is how little she thought of him.

The below picture is of the second to last king of Italy Victor Emmanuel III, another unloved child, failed king, and survivor of rickets - he is is the closest analogy to what I would imagine Charles to look like in terms of physical proportions as an adult. VE3 is the small ne on the right, Albert of Belgium is on the left.

Well Yeah. It’s not hard to imagine why Charles would not have inspired confidence in his elites, why he was generally regarded as sexually incompetent, or why he resorted to elaborate tricks and contrivances to hide himself away. He was unable through no fault of his own, able to physically embody what his contemporaries expected of a king; he also spent most of his life with his communication needs unacknowledged and unmet.

I personally think one of the reasons so many assumed George had the upper hand in their relationship was due to the vast differences in size between the two men. It’s also IMO one of the reasons why so many choose to believe Henrietta was an adulteress - a lot of people then and now could not imagine Charles as being able to inspire sexual passion due to his disabilities.

We need to start acknowledging the realities of Charles disabilities but also start combating and unpacking the ableist bigotries and stigma that have shaped our perception of him as well. Charles’s disabilities and childhood chronic illness (I refuse to use the word sickly) are often treated by historians as a failing of character and an outward marker of his personal inadequacy and political ineptitude, usually with little or no indication of what’s being implied about PwDs in public life and politics. Given how few openly disabled politicians and leaders (and indeed professional historians) we have this can’t just be coincidence.

#Charles I #disability #disabilties #ableism #george villiers #duke of buckingham #james i #baby charles #henrietta maria

[afcnamrcn23]

Excellent pictures taken at the Neues Museum of Berlin by a young man on YouTube called The King's Monologue. It's a Livestream called The Neues Museum of Berlin BLEW MY MIND (Pts 1 and 2). He makes very scrupulous observations that many brush over or block out. At the bottom of this compilation is his trip to the Louvre Museum in Paris reveal some shocking rarities.

color variation in males from User, Elephantine, dynasty 18.

Whole scene

https://www.archaeology.wiki/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/elephantine-tomb.jpg

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Early dynastic period

Early era

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Roman era

. woman just as dark reddish brown as the man

A lady from Antigua informed him that the style is called sisterlocks in modern times. These hairstyles were worn in West and Central Africa as well. See Diop's statement in the link about traditional hair of women in Senegal before the 1930s, both natural and wig (only seen in non Islamic areas after that time)...

1

https://www.tumblr.com/shwat2013/680165437249585152/whether-wig-or-not-i-think-people-sometimes?source=share. .

2

Wolof girl Senegal 1800s

a

https://64.media.tumblr.com/a236b85b80a40ea0690388ff73d5decc/c0bc9aed5175f391-df/s640x960/2ec47a43c894be96d47a61bc4ca79f771a80e1c4.jpg .

b

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Senegal-thioup-bazin.jpg#mw-jump-to-license

3

Just like ancient Egypt, the same wig form is traditionally worn in Nambia, Congo, Angola (of old), East Africa etc. Also worn naturally

link

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. Sahure 5th dynastic period

Early period

Early period

Have to point out that these are actual faces of Akhenaten and Nefertari because it's taken from a cast mold. THIS MEANS YOU'RE LOOKING AT THEM. See museum link below picture for more on this technique of sculptor Thutmose. As we see the museum label once informed us that it's one of the plaster molds, but now just says portrait heads. The following picture is not from the YouTuber

The following description is from the Egyptian Museum in Berlin, about one plaster cast mask (Inv.-No. ÄM 21356), but it really speaks on the technique of all portraits like it of the era. Most are from the ancient artist Thutmose of the Achet-Aton (today called Amarna), in Middle Egypt, which was the capital of Egypt during the reign of Akhenaten and Nefertiti. It reads… This portrait study gives a unique view of the work technique of the artist; first a form was taken directly from the subject"s face and a gypsum copy was made from the mould. The copy was then finished by the sculptor in various details, especially the eyes since these had to be closed when the mask was taken from the face. In these rare instances we are directly confronted with 'real' people even if we do not know their names or anything else about them.

Scroll to Mask from Amarna Portrait of a Man.

http://www.egyptian-museum-berlin.com/c52.php

To see more actual faces from cast molds (rare), scroll down to "A few more every day Egyptians of the Amarna period", near bottom of the compilation in this link

https://www.tumblr.com/shwat2013/677380292714037248/amenhotep-iii-at-the-new-york-metropolitan-museum?source=share

picture with old museum label

https://www.reddit.com/media?url=https%3A%2F%2Fi.redd.it%2F3q2tykijo0da1.jpg.

In mythology, Memnon was a king of Aethiopia (Sudan in this case) and son of Tithonus and Eos. As a warrior he was considered to be almost Achilles' equal in skill. During the Trojan War,  Here, he is compared to Akhenaten

Princess

link

18th dynasty man from Louvre

link

.Akhenaton on the left and a Nubian at the Flinders Petrie Museum of archeology, London, England on the right

This is a more of a stylized "artist conception on the left". We can see on the actual face from the sculptor studio on the right, he really didn't have a straight pointed nose...but rather more rounded, wide and flat. Strangely, I can see the faint character of the real person in the stylized conventional portraits

..

. Tiye

.Tiye or a relative

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. hieroglyph for face

. Amenenehat III

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More from the YouTuber. This time at the Louvre Museum (2 parts)

Part 1

Ink

Part 2

link

Clean, clear and unadulterated images from the video "MOST BEAUTIFUL NON-ROYAL TOMBS! WESTERN THEBES (LUXOR) EGYPT", as she walks through... These are wonderful and unbias. There's no way you can see these and not at least ask yourself... are these the people of the Aswan Elephantine area who lean more "black" in appearance

Video link

Be sure to stop at the bottom where it says "More from @afcnamrcn23". Don't be distracted by the pictures and links under that. They will occur again so that you can continue with the main post in sequence.

[todayimgonnaplay]

Today I'm gonna play: Final Fantasy 7 Ever Crisis

This is a game I've been waiting for from Square, getting to know about Sephiroth's origins more is always a welcome treat! I am wary of it still as Square hasn't exactly had much success in F2P mobile games and they're often gacha reliant, but let's see what this has to offer.

Based on the trailers and the actual game, the presentation is more faithful to the original FF7, using chibi style models with detailed 3d static backgrounds. However the battle screen is more like the remake, modern and action-filled. Ever Crisis (will call it EC now) also takes its own spin on presentation by including visual novel elements during story segments with portraits popping up. But they only use one sprite per character, which is a shame.

The game also seems to be split into 3 parts: FF7,FF7 Crisis Core (CC), and FF7 The First Soldier (will call it TFS). The first two were originally on the PS1 and PSP respectively, and then remade/remastered for modern consoles and PC, while TFS was mobile exclusive which shut down. As far as I know, it was a battle royale, so I'm not sure about the plot but young sephiroth is depicted in the key visual for that part so this is probably the highlight of the game.

There isn't much to say about the combat. I've played Nier: Reincarnation (haven't played any other Nier game apart from this) and that was completely automated that I didn't have to do anything at all, which was extremely boring. Ever Crisis on the other hand shows slight improvement with giving you the choice to select some abilities based on yout ATB gauge and switch between an offensive or defensive stance for tactical purposes. There are also elements and weaknesses in play to use to your advantage, as well as staggering which now seems to be a mainstay since 13, which is nice. Auto is now an option instead, and it does all the right attacks for you. But none of this compares to other gacha games, or other FF titles. In fact, other FF mobile games are much more active in its combat even if it's turn based.

If there's another improvement I can note, it's the UI. Compared to the other FF mobile games, EC is less cluttered and more minimal. It feels a lot more friendly to play this way. There's still a lot of buttons around, as well as some strange navigation, such as the lack of getting to change party members within the same screen. But I'll accept the minimum provided here.

There are some friendly rates when it comes to pulling, and the game offers a lot of content such as enhancing equipment and materia, grinding various dungeons for materials, EXP, and other rewards, missions, and live co-op battles that also reward you. The co-op is a great addition that relies a little more of your participation compared to the solo segments, and there's been no sense of lag so far. However at some point, the game does block you often with high requirements that require you to either excessively grind, or pay your way through. I assume the goal is to get players to do the latter. There were also early pop-ups that were frequent in wanting you to buy packages, which felt predatory but typical of gacha anyways. But even then I haven't seen something like this pulled by other games like Genshin Impact or Honkai Star Rail (even if it's the same company) and yet those games rake in millions. This is the same issue I've seen in the other FF mobile titles where they pop up so much that it takes a good minute to close all the windows before you can even begin playing.

Overall the game has potential, with some improvements showing in terms of user experience. But Square really needs to take note from more successful gachas that provide a more streamlined, friendly and slightly less predatory experience. As far as I know, Kingdom Hearts Missing Link is their next project. The lack of news is worrying but I hope that game improves their portfolio.

Terms exclusive to this game: ATB (Active Time Battle) - A gauge that fills over time when idle, that allows you to select particular abitiies to attack in turn based combat Staggering - A phase where bonus damage is dealt to the enemy if the player manages to interrupt their attack

#final fantasy #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ff7 ever crisis #final fantasy 7 ever crisis #ff7ec #jrpg games #gacha games #mobile games #mobile gaming #square enix #game analysis

[chicagolive]

Hi I’m so incredibly sorry this is getting to you so late!

I know what you mean about like booktok and stuff sometimes their recs are awful but I’ve read other stuff by Andy Weir and really liked it so I can tell you he very much knows what he’s talking about when it comes to space travel! When he was bored he used to plan missions to Mars and that’s how he wrote the Martian! So theres science and technical talk sometimes in that book so I’m somewhat expect that in Hail Mary!

I’m quite shit a listening to new music too but I’m always looking for more! I’ve been meaning to listen to Rina so I’m so glad you recommended that! Loved the voice so I’m excited to hear more!

I started collecting vinyl in 2020 too! It may be cliche to say but my pink Harry Styles - Harry Styles album is probably my prized vinyl simply because it took me forever to find and I found it quite cheap compared to what everyone else was selling it for! The most vinyls for one artist I have right now is one direction and so far the only double I have is for made in the am! I have a black one and a blue one! I’m hoping to get Louis’ album soon so I’m very excited!

Those are lovely colors! Great holiday movie for sure!! Ooooo, art! What’s your favorite artist? And do you have any favorite like paintings/sculptures? What kind of art do you normally create? I hope the block leaves ya be soon and you start creating again! Do you have any certain media of art you like to create the most?

Here’s another speed round!! What’s your go to comfort outfit/piece of clothing? What’s the best show you’ve watched this year? Do you have any pets? Annnnnd what’s your favorite season?

Hope you’re having an absolutely lovely night and that the day treated you well!!

-🎄❄️

Hello, hun!! ✨

That’s perfectly fine!! I totally understand! Life gets in the way. Hope your day/night is treating you well!!

Ahhhh, I see!! Well, as long as they know what they’re talking about within the novel, it sounds like a good read to me lol. I’ll have to give him a read next time I’m in the bookstore.

You have a pink self-titled? Cool, cool, cool, cool!! (Adds to rob list lol). The entire 1d discography!? Love that for you!! Is there one in particular you play the most? Out of all the boys, I’d say I listen to self-titled more than any of the other boys!! Idk, it just sounds so nice on record.

The thing about art is I love to admire and appreciate it, but I’m shit at actually remembering the artists names and when they created them 😅. Last night, I was looking at some photos I took when I was in Italy back in 2020 and I found some pictures of two of Botticelli’s most recognizable work (Primavera and The Birth of Venus). I’d probably say them for the meantime!!

I minored in sculpture in college, so I’d say I have an appreciation for the 3D arts, but lately I’ve been getting into painting/drawing!! Back at the end of 2020, I made a portrait of Louis trying to get back into the artistic spirit, which worked for a little, but haven’t really been able to get back into it. Hopefully the new year brings a spark with it lol.

Speed Round Questions: comfort outfit/piece of clothing? I’m a Jean-on-Jean person lol. If I can complete an outfit with a matching pair of jeans and Jean jacket, I’ll opt for that!! Best show this year? I’d probably say Heartstopper!! I read the series beforehand and an absolutely loved it! So when it came out, I watched it all in one sitting, even though there were only 8 episodes for the premier. Also, the 2nd season on Young Royals came out at the beginning of November which I really liked as well. I’m not very good at starting new series, like a lot of people lol. Is there any show you are watching atm that you recommend!? Pets? Sadly, I do not she any pets. I wish lol. One day, I’d say. I really like cocker spaniels, so I’d probably have that as a pet if I could!! Favorite season? I’d say the transition between summer and fall, where it’s not as hot to wear shorts anymore, but isn’t cold enough to have to bundle up under multiple layers!! Very nice middle!! 🎄✨

#holiday pals 🎄✨ #asks

[nuri-design]

Logo and social media integration

Research

Logo's are vitally important for brand recognition and identity so it was essential to looking into research of what makes an effective logo. "So, why is a logo important? Because it grabs attention, makes a strong first impression, is the foundation of your brand identity, is memorable, separates you from competition, fosters brand loyalty, and is expected by your audience." During the 2010's we saw that minimalism was by far the biggest trend in product and logo design with the most notable example being phone apps switching from previously block-like /bubbly 3 dimensional designs to what we have now over the course of the past decade which are flat and minimalist.  But that has slowly began to fall out of favour especially with a younger generation who see it as too corporate and off-putting to actually invest into, where as more authentic designs have began to increase in popularity. bearing all of this in mind I endevaourded to create something both authentic and genuine to my style of creativity as I feel this is more impactful in today's market.

Reference:

Goni - website

The brand Goni is a small business I have been following for a year now. They specialise in making alternative printed clothes. Their logo is the mascot Goni drawn in a little messy style, as much as I like their minimalist take on the logo it's still a little too messy. What I like about the logo is that it's not just text but also a little mascot which makes the brand stand out from others.

Their website is not that good either, the idea is there but the execution isn't the best. It's very simple the only thing throwing me off is that the background on the header isn't black.

Lord Griss’ website is straightforward to navigate with all the sub-pages being linked under the logo in the same place on all pages, creating a very fluid experience. Their homepage showcases their creation in a very eye-catching manner being the main attention grabber whilst providing the visitor with excellent examples of the products you’ll be able to purchase on their website. She also provides sections to answer FAQ’s as well as options to register for the website for future visits and subscription to an electronic newsletter. However, I do feel like the website lacks any real personality and feels generic with the plain white background throughout which feels a bit shameful considering how outstanding her creations are.

Lord Gris - website

Skoot apparel - website

In my opinion, the website that had the best overall design among the websites I researched was Skoot Apparel , Although it doesn’t excel in any particular aspect when compared to Lord Griss’ artwork/logo designs or Goni’s simplicity I believe it has far more identity and is far more impactful with bold eyecatching colours, animated product features on a single page. When you do click on a product you’re shown multiple angles of the fashion as well as multiple models giving the visitor enough information to make an informed decision on whether the product is something they would want to purchase. In addition to the actual website analysis, the products being sold have a fluid theme and all incredibly unique designs further gaining interest of a customer as there are unlikely to be replicas found cheaper elsewhere furthering the authenticity of the product.

Development

For the task of creating my logo I challenged myself creating a large variation of possible designs to uncover which one felt the most sincerely authentic to me

What makes my logo more distinguishable than others is that I use an alias as oppose to my Turkic name for better recognition and readability making it more memorable than it would otherwise be, it is also an extension of my personal identity.

I decided to create a simple portrait of myself as an expression of how I perceive myself as I felt it best displayed my brand/identity which is exactly what I believe is what a logo should represent

Animating my logo

I used Procreate to animate my logo by individually drawing each frame.

Social media integration

Being that my logo is a transparent PNG it’s easily transferable and cropable between multiple media platforms, additionally, it was produced in high resolution meaning that the resolution remains high even after being resized. I’ve used my logo for my CV, Instagram and my website as well as being used for business cards.

Instagram

[keepingupwithpotters]

23-“Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?” For jily???

Hope you don't mind I used this prompt to write a second part to this one. There was a concerning amount of distress over it and I am nothing if not a compulsive people pleaser

Happy mf birthday to my bestie, my other brain cell @clare-with-no-i words cannot express how much I adore you. Hope you'll enjoy the custody of our shared brain cell for your birthday as a gift <333

He tried not to feel guilty about the loud noises his feet were making as he ran through empty hallways, an act that went against his every instinct as a Marauder. He just needed to remind himself that he was not hiding from an authority who’s about to catch him this time, rather running towards it actually.

In his haste he forgot to bring his cloak too, though what good it would do to him in this scenario was dubious. Maybe it could’ve helped with a sneak attack, but it wasn’t like they were expecting him now anyway. Occasional ghosts and portraits seeing a pair of feet run around in Hogwarts would be amusing perhaps, if he was in the mood for it.

He clutched the map in his hand tighter. He couldn’t dare to take another look at it in fear of losing time. When he first announced he was up to no good today, it was certainly not because it was a Thursday. Sirius had actually seen to that, making sure that the map was always in the hands of another Marauder every Thursday patrol, without asking for James’ input of course. Today was a fluke, his first one to be exact.

It wasn’t like he had been looking for a little dot named Lily Evans for his own selfish purposes, he was literally supposed to be up to no good before he got severely sidetracked. He winced remembering how he left the dorm quickly without giving an explanation to Peter, trying not to think about the telling off he would receive from Sirius when he got back from his detention.

Well, he could get something for Peter from the kitchens on his way back. As an apology, and a thank you.

Right now wasn’t the time for planning his return though, he first had to hurry up and reach them. When he finally turned the last corner, he had no expectations as to what he would see, only prepared to fire the first spell possible, taking his wand in his right hand.

As he took in the scene in front of him slowly, he realized that was not true, he had been expecting a fight. Certainly not… this.

His eyes passed over Cresswell quickly, cowering in a corner by himself and seemingly not moving a muscle as he stared ahead blankly. Anxiously searching for that flash of red, he finally found it when he turned his head a little to the right. Just not in the way he expected.

With the natural shock of seeing blood, he only lost a second before he ran to its direction. He felt his way around in the dark before remembering he was a wizard, doing a quick lumos to locate where the blood was coming from. The young face in front of him didn’t react to the light at all, laying dead still (not dead, not dead) in front of him. He saw his Hufflepuff tie, yellows darkening with blood, before he saw his wound. All the bleeding seemed to come from his head, his skin paling every second James left to go to waste. But healing spells weren’t his forte, they were Lily’s. He finally let his eyes find her, a coil releasing inside him with the permission.

The first thing he noticed were her hands; one of them fisted, the other one raised, still holding her wand, both shaking. He stood up to go by her side slowly, afraid to spook her out. When he was finally beside her, he saw her empty eyes were fixed on the bleeding boy. No, not empty – terrified, shaken, and devastated but not empty.

He stepped to come between her and the boy, desperate to cut across her line of vision to save her from some of that terror. “Hey, look at me. “He broadened his shoulders to block as much of that scene as possible. “Focus on me alright?”

His words appeared to have no effect on her from the way she was looking. He put his hands on her shoulders but couldn’t decide if shaking her to “snap out of it” would actually be beneficial before he realized where she was focusing on. Green gaze cut a straight line to his heart, he tried to slow it down for her sake.

Her frail hands found their way to his chest unsteadily, clasping firmly right above the beating. He let her clench the shirt between her fists, trying to encourage her to copy his breathing. When her eyes met his at last, it was his turn to lose his breath this time.

“James? What–what are you doing here?”

Her breathing still felt too shaky for him to relax, so he bent his knees to stare her directly in the eye instead. “Lily, I need you to breathe in and out at the same time as I do. You think you can manage that?”

Eyes widened slightly with a manic look, she nodded her head unsurely. Her inhales steadied comparably after a few tries, hands loosening slightly from their tight fists. Scared she would take them away, he put his own on top of hers, allowing her to ground herself as long as she liked.

“They have left.” Her voice trembled slightly. She didn’t continue until James squeezed her fists, once. “Just before you came. I didn’t understand why at the time, but I guess they thought you were a teacher.”

“Who has left?” he asked gently.

“The Slytherins. They were—” She finally seemed to remember what stood behind James. “Is he okay? I couldn’t break his fall in time. There were three of them and—”

“Did you try to take on three Slytherins on your own?” He tried not to grit his teeth, but it was hard, voice coming out clipped anyway.

“It’s not like I had any other choice. Cresswell was…” She trailed off, not sure how to finish her sentence. James knew exactly how he could finish it, but that might be his bitterness talking.

He couldn’t focus on how if he were the one with her tonight, he could’ve helped her. Lily needed his supportiveness now, not his ugly jealousy rearing its head.

“I think he has a severe head wound, but I didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. And he isn’t moving at all.”

Lily dropped her hands in a flash, running around him to go to the Hufflepuff’s side. Before he could mourn the loss of her, she had her hand under the boy’s nose, “Well, he’s still breathing.”

“Can you do anything about his injury?” He was crouching beside her now, watching her do some spells to check over the still body.

She looked pensive for a moment. “I could but if he lost consciousness there is a chance it might be something more serious.” The look she gave to James as she got up was urgent. “We should take him to Madam Pomfrey immediately.”

“I can help you with that.”

They both turned to the voice coming behind them, surprised that Cresswell was up and about. He was looking back at them sheepishly, neck flushing under their gazes.

“I think you’ve done enough help so far,” James sneered. He knew this was not the prefect’s fault per say, but the anger simmering behind his skin had not passed after hearing what Lily had to do alone, prompting one cutting remark from his lips.

He had been good so far, he deserved it.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, Dirk?” She sounded tired, and he immediately regretted his little moment of pettiness. “James and I will handle the rest of it from here.”

She turned her back to him without waiting to hear his retorts, starting to levitate the injured boy carefully. While James cleaned the blood on the floor, she waited. He tried to suppress the giddy feeling rising inside him at the act.

They started walking towards the hospital wing side by side, Lily surprising him by taking his hand. If it weren’t for the occasional blood dripping from the boy in the air, it could be considered romantic, like a midnight stroll in the castle.

They continued without speaking, until Lily finally broke the peaceful silence. “I think it was a bad idea.”

He desperately willed his heart to calm down. “What was, Lily?”

“Us not patrolling together and… other things. I may have made a mistake.”

His grasp on Lily’s hand tightened with the words. “Well, we still have time to fix it, don’t we?”

#jily #jily fic #jily canon #james potter #lily evans #james x lily #jily fanfiction #senem writes #these are steadily getting longer fuck

[demonologistfucker]

Free Angel GN! Angel MC x Obey Me, Part 1

Summary: You are the third Angel to be welcome in Diavolo’s exchange program. This is the first time in your life that you are free from any Angelic codes, and you’re interested to indulge. You can’t explore hell alone though, so you’ll be given the Avatar of Wrath as a guardian.

This is my writing out the AU i had for my own mc, but as an MC insert. This first chapter is SFW, but if I continue, there will be NSFW smutty chapters. This Angel wants to have some fun in hell, and is Poly so ✨

Word Count: 3459

“Are you excited?” Simeon looked down to Luke. Who was fussing over his own clothes. Making sure everything was neat and presentable. 

“Of course not,” Luke huffed. “This is going to be the worst year.”

“I don’t know about that,” MC grinned as they rocked back onto their heels. “We’re going to learn quite a lot.” So much about the Devildom had been kept away from the angels. MC was created by God after the revolution. All they had ever been told was what to fear about the devils and their land. However, MC knew there were gaps in the story. Noticed the longing that flared in Simeon’s eyes whenever The Morningstar and his family were brought up. Which is why, as the magic circle began to glow, MC felt a great excitement. Luke watched the magic circle glow with wide eyes. While Simeon continued on as if nothing was changing.

“Try to keep an open mind, Luke. The Devildom is not all bad.” Simeon patted Luke’s head. “You might even make some friends.”  just as the magic circle completed. Reality spluttered for a second, and then everything was dark. 

“Absolutely not!” Luke’s shrill voice was all that MC could sense. Then they tasted the air, cool and tinged with sulfur. “Make friends with Demons? I could never!” Luke prattled on while his eyes adjusted. After several blinks, MC could see the palace they stood in. The grandeur was almost repulsive. Gold trim and deep red walls. It was the beauty of wealth and statues. 

“I hope you’ll be able to make friends during your stay.” A deep voice said from behind. MC spun around, and then had to crane their head upward to see who was there. His broad smile was so warm that it clashed with the royal regalia the man was dressed in. The red jacket  with a medallion on the shoulder. MC scrunched their nose, wondering why Hell would choose to continue earths obsession with war decoration. “Thank you for joining us.” The Man continued, and he bowed his head to the Angels. “I am Lord Diavolo, Prince of the Devildom. As well as the head of the exchange program.”

“Thank you for having us,” Simeon smiles as he walks over to the prince. Without hesitation, the two embrace in a familiar hug. 

“I’m just so happy the program worked.” Diavolo rubs the back of his neck. “The humans will be coming this evening. So I’ll be able to help you all settle in and still make it for the humans.” Simeon and Diavolo continued to talk about details. Mainly the excitement over the humans. While Luke looked on with a fury. 

“I can’t believe Simeon is being so familiar with the Demon Lord.” Luke crossed his arms. “We cannot befriend the enemy.”

“Yah.. Enemy.” Mc can feel something tighten in their stomach. Instead of processing that, the angel turns to look about the palace a little more. Now that they knew what the Prince looked like. Some portraits on the walls made more sense. The one that caught the angel’s eye was of a young Diavolo. He stood alone in a field of red. A skull of a dragon under his foot, and a toy left in the distant background. It had been commissioned to show the great power Diavolo had ever as a child. Unintentionally, it spoke some truth. A small child alone in a field. Left with death at his feet. 

“I won’t be able to be around much in your day to day, I’m afraid.” Diavolo was now standing to face the whole group. So MC turned their attention back to the conversation. “But I do want to do my best to keep your stay in my realm as comfortable as possible. If there is anything we can do, please let us know.”

“Is there a way we can go back?” Luke asks with great seriousness.

“Luke!” Simeon gasps. 

“That is what would make me most comfortable,” Luke huffs and crosses his arms. 

“Luke, you can’t just-.” Simeon rubs the space between his brow.

“It’s fine,” Diavolo shrugs it off. “We all process homesickness in our own way. The spell to move between heaven and hell is a powerful one. So we truly won't be able to do this till next year, but if there is anything else we can do. Do ask and I will try to accommodate. Lucifer should be here soon, and he will bring you to your dormitories. As well as go down the basic rules of staying here.”

“Rules?” Mc asks, finally speaking up. 

“Not much but briefly - Michael requested that you three still follow your codes, but there is no way for them to actually check.” Diavolo puts a hand on his chest. “One of our realms defining features is that your god’s awareness cannot reach here. So the rules you must follow are the rules of the devildom and whatever you personally value. Our rules you’ll find are much more lax.” Luke gasps in horror, but excitement only brewed within MC.

Two men in uniform walk into the Palace hall. One walks directly to Lord Diavolo’s side. Dark hair falling into a shock of green that followed framed half his face. They were stiff and despite the collected look. MC could see the anxiety running through their spine. The other kept a distance from the Angels. A cool dark look, judging each of them openly. 

“My Lord we must be going.”

“I don’t have any more time?” Diavolo’s face falls. 

“No, your next meeting has already begun.” They kept their voice rather calm, but their eyebrow twitched. 

“Alright,” Diavolo sighs, but turns back to the angels quickly. “I truly hope you enjoy your stay in the Devildom. It’s an honor to have you here.” With that, Diavolo is ushered away. 

“Now who could that brooding gentleman be,” Simeon was once again walking up to the strange demon. Though the man looked as disagreeable as before. He did let Simeon hug him. Only adjusting his jacket the moment he was free. 

“You know who I am,” 

“I am asking for the children,” Simeon looks back to Luke and MC. While Luke gets all huffy about their age. MC is truly an adult by the fact that they can just roll their eyes and get over it. 

“My name is Lucifer,” He bow slightly to the three angels. “Avatar of Pride, and right hand to Lord Diavolo. When you need his help, come to me.” Lucifer sharpens his gaze on MC. “Diavolo is very busy, and I would prefer you to bother me than him.” Then his glare moved to Luke. Who paled and shuffled towards Simeon. “Now, if you will follow me. I’ll lead you to your housing for the year.” Lucifer walked briskly out of the Palace. “ Compared to the celestial realm, the Devildom functions much more like earth. The city is based on a money exchange. We will provide a small allowance once a month, but if you want to indulge, you’ll have to get a job.” Lucifer says all of this while walking briskly out of the Palace. Luke grumbles about nearly having to run, and MC has to fight back a laugh. “If you stay within the Devildom your life will be remarkably like that on earth. With a key distinction that there will be demons who lust for your blood every so often, and there is no sun.” Lucifer swung open the front door of the palace. Exposing the dark courtyard beyond, and the block void of the sky. Illuminated on the horizon was The Devildom. The glowing sector of Hell where Demons and spirits lived their personal lives. It glowed beautifully, and illuminated the Palace like a setting sun. 

Normally, this effect was made greater by the fact that the courtyards had no lights. If one was to see, it was their own gift, or from the light of the city. The angels broke this by having their own innate glow. Casting warm shadows against the cool nature of hell. Lucifer glanced at the glow with mild annoyance. Normally, the walk from the palace to the road was his moment of peace. Now each step he was reminded about the great task this year would be.

“To help with the exchange, we have enrolled you three in the local university. There you can learn about how the systems of hell truly function, as well as our magical training programs. We have some of the most skilled magic users training with us.” Part of Diavolo’s plan was to show what Hell was truly worth. The eons didn’t pass without change, and under Diavolo that change was being brought to its most refined point. Lucifer himself had led many of the projects to start translating Hell’s data into deeper means of understanding… Books with narrative instead of strings of numbers or archaic runes. 

“So you won’t be making us torture humans?” Luke snaps. 

“Only if you want to.” Lucifer doesn’t even look back to Luke. He knew enough about the little angel to know it would start on a rant if provoked. He was already battling a headache and couldn’t stand the thought of being lectured by a child. 

“I could never!” Luke brings his hand to his chest.

“Then you won’t.” 

“What will we be learning then?” MC asks. 

“Standard education for someone new to our system. History of the Devildom, Grimm economics, Devildom literature, Alchemy and potions 101, art, athletics,” Lucifer twirls a hand around. “The basics,”

“Oh that sounds… Fun” MC grimaces.

“Did you come here to have fun?” Lucifer glances back at the angel. 

“So what if I did?” MC tries to be defensive, but can’t help cracking into a smile. It was rather funny seeing the confused look on Lucifer’s face. 

“MC! We are not here to have fun, we have to learn and do as much research for our arch-”

“I know Luke,” MC groans. “We’re allowed to have Some fun.”

“Indeed,” Lucifer nods. “None of the classes should take all your time, so you’ll be able to have your own time. If you want to explore the Devildom please go in pairs. While you have Diavolo’s blessing, not all demons listen to authority. There is no promising what a rogue demon would do to a lone angel.” 

MC scrunches up their face, which makes Simeon laugh. Meanwhile, Luke is actually trembling. 

“Oh Luke, you look like a scared puppy.” Simeon tries to keep his voice sympathetic, but the hint of laughter is clear. 

“A little chihuahua,” Lucifer smiles. 

“I am not a chihuahua!” Luke shrieks! 

---------------------------------

Purgatory Hall was a lot more comfortable than MC had expected. The interior was surprisingly bright and cozy. Though still favoring the overly ornate and plush. MC was wandering aimlessly through the halls. Luke was still hurt from the chihuahua incident by the time they were done getting situated. So Simeon had taken Luke out to get something sweet to make up for it. While at the time, MC had said they wanted to stay here and explore the house. They were now realizing that was a foolish choice. After looking in the rooms once,  MC was more than satisfied with exploring the house. So now they were draped across the couch. Flipping idly through their D.D.D. When MC opens the messages to pulls up Lucifer.

“You said I shouldn’t go out by myself. Simeon and Luke are often a pair without me. I could just risk it?” Dots appear quickly.

“No, let me find you a guide.” 

Lucifer leaned back. Thinking about which of his brothers, he wants to make baby sit an angel. No one who might find it enjoyable like Asmo or Beel. He already planned on having Mammon for the human...

                    ----------------------

“Satan, would you be a guide for one of the Angel exchange students?”

“Are you actually asking me?” Satan looks over the top of his reading glasses.” Or are you just telling me in a passive manner.”

“It’s not passive,” Lucifer crosses his arms.” Answer my question.”

“No,” Satan leaned back into his chair. Lifting his book up to block Lucifer from view. 

“You are just saying that because I am asking you.”

“Yes,” Satan smiles. 

“Which is why I am going to make you do it.” Lucifer smiles back. “I think it will be an informative experience for you.” 

“Informative?” Satan can feel the fires in his stomach boiling over, but his keeps his composure calm. It was centuries of practice. “As if I don’t hear enough about the celestial realm from you?”

“You hear our side of it, and now you can learn another.” Lucifer looks so sure of his convictions that it made Satan want to lift his chair and throw it through a wall. Instead, he took a deep breath for seven seconds and let it out in ten. 

“How do you intend on making me do this?” Satan propped his elbow on the armchair, and then his head in his hand. 

“I will tell Diavolo you refused to use your strength and knowledge to help his exchange program. If the angels are to learn the best qualities of Hell. Who is better informed than you? No harm would come to that angel with you near.” Lucifer has pride in many things. Not just himself, and that was one of his worst qualities. The way he looked at Satan with such knowing. Then how it could vanish into cold apathy. “It’s lazy work, really. You could have an audiobook in your ear if you truly needed it.”

Satan looked from Lucifer and down to the floor. Then he switched which way he was leaning in the chair. Fidgeting as he thought. Trying to find a way to accept that he will have to do this. Without having to agree with Lucifer. 

“Fine, I don’t want to be lectured by Diavolo as well as you.” Satan begins to read his book again. “When do I start?”

“Now, they want to explore.” Lucifer’s face was full of mirth. If Satan showed that he was irritated, that would only play into what He wanted. So Satan sighed as he picked up the bookmark and wedges it in. 

“The angels will be living in Purgatory hall, correct?” At least Satan could show he’d be competent in the task. 

“Indeed.  MC is an Angel a little younger than you and will not know what to expect in the Devildom.”

“That we’re not all monsters or that monster’s still exist?” Satan slowly took of his glasses. Cleaning the lenses before tucking them away. 

“Bit of both. Which you’re a perfect example of. ” Lucifer ignore the scowl that rips across Satan’s face. Instead, tapping his watch. “They asked me for a guide an hour ago, so I would appreciate it if we could hurry up.” Satan stands up and again takes a deep breath. Then many more. A deep breath each step of the way to purgatory hall. Asmo was hanging out in the hallway, but the moment they saw Satan. Asmo found an excuse to leave. 

It was right up to the moment that Satan knocked on the door. That’s when he took one final breath and let the tension fall from his shoulders. Suddenly the portrait of composure with a grace in his eye. The door opened easily, and there stood MC. Satan was shocked to see that, despite being an angel. They had changed out of any holy robes and into something more comfortable. There wasn’t the annoying level of arrogance Satan had come to expect. Off to a good start, it would seem. 

“Hello, My name is Satan. Lucifer sent me to be your guide.” Satan bowed slightly and smiled brightly as he stood up. His green eyes were glowing with genuine warmth. 

“Oh, awesome,” MC rocked back on their heels. “I don’t really know where to go. I just want to see… stuff?” MC shrugs and smiles sheepishly. Satan felt something new in his chest. This Angel was genuinely curious about the Devildom. 

“I know lots of lovely spots. Do you want some history or a bit of culture?” Satan raises a brow. Looking at MC as if they were co conspirators on some great plan. MC’s heart pick up the pace. 

“Why not both?”

“Good choice,” Satan offers an elbow to the Angel. With flushed cheeks, the Angel accepts. “A friend of mine commissioned a new branch in the museum nearby. It’s full of artifacts that were destroyed by invades. Now in the Devildom we can restore the artifacts and get first-hand facts on the culture.”

“An accurate history or ones written by victors?”

“Accurate, of course,” Satan looks almost offended. “We are not on any side of humanities battles.”

“You like their military regalia.”

“I don’t. Those in charge think it’s pretty.” Satan rolls his eyes. “One part of hell is under strict authority, and another is nearly pure anarchy.”

“Anarchy with demons must get interesting.” MC tries not to giggle. “I have the image of Demons fighting to create and making utter chaos.”

“You’re close, just throw in some packs working together, and rogues wandering around the city trying to push their chaos were ever. The principles of anarchy aren’t too bad, actually. I’ve read the literature, but in practice with magic beings, too many hot heads can ruin it for the rest.” 

“There’s so many rules in Heaven,” MC sighs and rocks their head back. “Anarchy sounds terrifying, but also refreshing? If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Satan nods. “What sort of rules does heaven have?”

“Well, the rules of angels and people are different.” Satan nods instead of saying, Obviously. “For angels, we literally have a mandated outfit. Can’t wear anything but the one holy look. We cannot stray remotely close to any sins, and must keep peace at all times. Which isn’t difficult with 1000 of human souls all wanting their own ideal conflicting paradise.” MC tenses with the anger, and then lets it slide out. “Sorry about that-”

“Don’t apologize,” Satan squeezes the Angel’s arm a little. “You got more than the right to be annoyed with such treatment. Speak what you feel.” MC looks up at Satan with bright eyes. 

“If I have to sing in another chores for God, I will scream.”

“You should! Screaming is cathartic.” The talk the whole way to the museum and through it. Both have more than enough to say, and genuinely want to hear the other. Satan has carefully made opinions and seems to be educated in every topic under the sun. The Niches of thing MC thinks of Satan can keep up with. He also seems to have causes at least half of the wars which destroyed the artifacts now on display. “Alexander was rather easy to manipulate,” Satan hums. “Just had to bat my eyes at him and ask if that’s what he really wanted. He would be up for anything after that.” Satan can’t keep back his mischievous grin. 

“Did you… Seduce Alexander the Great?”

“And helped kill him.” Satan smiles proudly. “He was an asshole, but fun to play with it.” Now Satan looks off with a distance in his eyes. Clearly lost in the past, where he could saunter about Rome. Arm and Arm with a brutal conquer. 

“How often do you accompany brutal killers?” MC asks with a sharp look. 

“This is where our working on opposite sides could come to a point,” Satan chuckles. “I am the avatar of wrath. I accompany most of the greatest killers. Push them to indulge just a bit more. If not me, one of my many underlings is probably there.”

“Funny,” MC says with a rather serious face. “I haven’t been given a title yet, but I spent the last century working with the angels in the peace department.”

“Oh that is some hard work,” Satan looks over to the Angel. MC had been prepared for Satan to look annoyed, but instead he looked more impressed. “Humans are so easy to manipulate with their emotions. Peace is going against their instincts.” By now, Satan and MC had entered the museum. Other demons milled about. Quickly commenting on the pieces of history elegantly on display. The explanations that come with each piece are at best wordy paragraphs. At worst, there is an essay attached. MC is saved from any reading by having Satan in toe. He knows all the information backwards and forwards, and the fact he’s more curious about the Angel. Saves MC from having to sit through lecture after lecture. Satan pauses to breath, and to hear the Angel’s own thoughts.

----- Rest of the museum date will be finished if people show interest in it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you have any requests for what Angel MC get’s up to feel free to ask! If people actually like this I’ll writing more parts consistently. If not more will just come as I feel like it.

#my writing #gn!mc #Gn!Mc x obey me #gn!MC x Satan #obey me! #Angel MC! #Angel MC! Obey me #fanfiction #writing #Obey me! Satan #Obey me! Lucifer #Obey me! Simeon #Obey me! Luke #Obey me! Diavolo

[definitelynotshouting]

tma discord made a joke about martin bringing jon's stuff to his flat post s3 for safekeeping, so ofc i had to make it sad. enjoy the marto angst!!

~~~

He doesn’t mean to open up Jon’s yearbook, in the same way he doesn’t mean to pick up all of Jon’s things from his flat, or tell Jon's landlord that he’s the next of kin, smile stretched too tight over trembling his lips. He doesn’t mean to garner the old woman’s sympathy, either, but he receives it anyway in the form of a half-hearted pat to the shoulder as her brows crumple together-- like it's her first time trying on the expression.

“Terribly sorry for your loss,” she murmurs, eyes downcast. Proper respect for the dead, and all. Martin doesn’t bother correcting her-- it’s true, isn’t it? Dead is dead, and maybe Jon wasn’t his, but--

But he could’ve been. Martin had been so sure, just before the Unknowing. They could’ve been something.

Not that it matters anymore.

Martin reaches deep for his inner well of strength and patience, and cobbles together another fixed smile. “Thanks.”

“Right proper tenant, he was,” she continues, brows furrowing further. “Didn’t see him for a while, mind you, but I--”

She stops with such abruptness that Martin’s ears ring. At some indeterminate point his facial muscles had started moving of their own accord, freezing in a series of strained, rigid lines.

Whatever Jon’s landlord sees in them, it unnerves her. “I. Um. That is-- ah… you, you take all the time you need.” She fumbles another pat to his shoulder, before fleeing out the way she came. Jon's front door shuts with finality; the click reverberates through his head long after the sound dissipates.

Alone at last, Martin’s polite grimace slips.

It’s so cold here. Jon has curtains over the blinds-- thick, dark things, meant to block out everything from sunlight to prying eyes. Martin chokes on a hysterical laugh; there’s on the nose, and then there’s on the nose, and it’s so pathetically not-funny that he has to cover his face with his hands, biting down on the hiccups that keep tearing out of him.

There’s more, of course. Jon was-- was, god-- a living person, and it’s astonishing just how much people accumulate over the years. The procession of cheap tchotchkes lining the mantle surprises him, the mountain of books less so. Tapes, mugs, and discarded take-out receipts litter every surface of the sitting room; endearing, if circumstances were different. And when Martin moves further into the flat, he discovers a stack of cardboard boxes in the corner of Jon’s bedroom, still filled with whatever contents Jon had been too busy to unload.

The utter normalcy of it punches a gaping hole in the center of Martin’s chest. Deep, vicious grief pours out of it, claws at the tatters of his heart with oily, ink-stained fingers. Martin’s next breath takes the form of a rattling inhale-- just a week ago, Jon had walked these floors. Had pulled things out of those dusty boxes. Had, had, had. Things he’ll never do again. That’s the important part.

“Right," Martin tries, but his voice strangles, falls harsh and reedy in the dusty flat. Wrong. He cringes; silence is what reigns here, thick and impenetrable as stone.

The thought floats up unbidden: This isn’t a place. This is a tomb.

It knocks his knees out from under him. “No, nono--” Martin claps a hand over his mouth too late, stifling the sob that trips from his throat. The vice around his chest squeezes; he can’t breathe around the pressure, lungs fluttering for air. This-- and, god, Tim too-- it’s too much. The wall between himself and the emotions he's been holding back shatters, pooling onto the floor in a storm of frenzied weeping.

When he comes back to himself, he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against one of the boxes. “Alright,” Martin croaks at it. Anything for a distraction-- at least these won't need packing up. “Let’s, uh. Let’s see what-- l-let’s see what we’ve got, yeah?”

The box’s flaps are arranged in a square, overlapping so they can hold themselves shut without tape. Martin digs a finger under one of them, prying it loose-- the others unfold without encouragement, blooming outward like a flower.

Strictly speaking, it doesn’t hold anything special. Just Oxford paraphernalia: Jon's folded dress robe, a leather-bound folder containing his degree, the black square cap with its equally black tassel. And a book. Slim, resting on top of everything else, the imprint of Jon’s fingers lingering against its glossy cover.

Martin thumbs its corner without thinking, his other fingers curling to hover over each print. They’re too big, blocking out the whorls of Jon’s fingers; Martin sniffs, wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve as fresh tears dribble down his cheeks.

He doesn’t mean to open the book. But somewhere in the haze of tears, his thumb slips beneath the cover, lifts it, and he finds himself staring at the inside cover of a yearbook.

“Oh.” Breathed out on the softest exhale, gently ruffling the pages. Martin sucks in another quick breath, but this one doesn’t hurt so much. His own curiosity overshadows the grief for a few precious moments; Martin sinks into it, flipping each page with that curious detachment that comes after a long crying jag.

None of the names and faces are familiar-- and why would they be? Martin never went to uni, much less Oxford. Each stranger’s features slide away when his eyes move on to the next. These are people he'll never meet; people whose lives are, with any luck, untouched by the horrors that have dominated his own.

Martin skips over the entire S section. Best not to risk it.

After the parade of portraits are other pictures, professional candids of student organizations at work, social clubs meeting up after class, interviews with some of the students. Standard fare, really. Everything drifts past without actually sticking, the accompanying text blurring as he skims over it.

He flips to a new page at random, and freezes.

That’s Jon. Younger, yes, face unlined, without a grey hair in sight-- but undeniably Jon. The picture is as crisp as the rest of them, catching the bronze highlights in Jon’s skin, the delicate bones of his wrist as he gesticulates on a stage. Theater Club, Martin reads. Bold, underlined. He reads it again, some itching, crawling thing at the back of his mind suddenly desperate to drink in this new information. Theater Club.

He’s so young. Locked in time, frozen on the page. For once he resembles his age; his posture is looser here, eyes trained on someone off camera. The hint of a smile poises on his lips, softening the jagged cut of his cheekbones with a dash of warmth.

Martin stares. He shouldn’t be looking at this-- it’s private, something Jon must’ve come back to many times, judging by the fingerprints. But in his mind’s eye, he can’t help but compare this picture to the last time he saw Jon: ashen, unmoving, and lifeless under tons of whirring machinery.

They don’t match up. One is vivacious, thrumming with energy. And the other is--

Is--

A drop splashes against the page, wrinkling Jon's image. It’s joined by another, then a third-- hot tears carving the skin of his cheeks, dripping from his chin onto the paper.

Did Jon ever know how numbered those happier days were? Could a part of him sense, back then, how long he had until his life cut short? The tragedy of this image, its bittersweetness, sends a bone-deep ache rippling inside of him. He’d give anything to go back in time and warn this Jon away from the Institute. Christ, he’d do anything right now just to have him back.

When the sob comes, it comes from deep in the core of him. Shreds something vital on its way out; Martin chokes on a great, heaving cry, breath punching from his lungs.

He doesn’t bother putting the book back. Just hugs it tight to his chest, clutching it with the same desperation that a drowning man would a life preserver. “I’m sorry,” he sobs, folding to press his forehead against the cover. “I’m so, so sorry.”

The Jon inside the yearbook, with his fond smile and glittering eyes, never responds.

#jonmartin #martin blackwood #tma #the magnus archives #angst #grief #canonical character (sorta) death #heehoo i cleaned this up a lot from the doc i gave the discord server #lmk if there are formatting issues im doing this on mobile rn #my fics #txt

[jenonctcity]

Shadows In The Snow

Lee Jeno – Smut/Fluff/Angst

Prince!Au, Royalty!Au

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety/Panic Attacks, Explicit Sex, Mild Violence, Mentions of Character Death, Mentions of Illness.  

Word Count: 20k

(This is NOT part of the Charia Kingdom Series. This is a completely different story and is not related to that series at all.)

An arranged marriage between the Prince of the Northern Kingdom and the Princess of the Southern Kingdom came as a surprise to both of them. Neither of them had wanted the forced marriage, but being under the thumbs of their parents, they both had no choice. The Princess is sent to the Northern Kingdom to live alongside her future husband but is met by a reluctant and cold Prince. Not wanting to know his bride, he’s distant and mean, not caring if she gets offended or upset by his actions. How does he react after a severe turn of events happen? Love or Hatred? Prince Jeno questions everything in his head and comes to a final conclusion about his future.

You could remember the first time you stepped foot into the castle of the Northern Kingdom. The air was warm despite the cold bite of the weather outside, the rooms lit up brightly making the place feel welcoming, and the entrance hall so pristine it was almost glowing. Of course, the palace you grew up in was just as lavish as the palace the Lee family lived in, but it felt like you were stepping into a whole new world. Whereas your home was filled with warm colours to match the humidity and setting of your Southern Kingdom, the interior of the palace in the Northern Kingdom matched the snow that fell from the sky and laid thick on the ground. The only warm colour was that of the candles lit inside lanterns that lined the walls, and the gold that mixed in amongst the white. Not much natural light came through the windows from the flurry of snow that fell from the sky blocking the sun. That was five years ago, and it still felt exactly the same to you, apart from this time you had a gut wrenching feeling of anxiety from the lack of comfort you felt. Before you had been surrounded by royals you didn’t even know the name of, lords and ladies, and people who had a stupid amount of money. This time you only had Mark, a royal servant, as your company. From what you could gather, he was a kind man, and you could only assume he was Prince Jeno’s personal assistant. He was dressed in typical servant attire, his black suit being quite the contrast to the white interior of the halls he walked you down. Before you had been in the palace for a ball. One that would mix the future heirs of the Kingdoms together in hopes of possible alliances and marriages. Now you were walking down the halls of the Kingdom to meet your future husband.

When your father had graced the news upon you that you, the Princess of the South, would be marrying Jeno, the Prince of the North, you’d actually been rather excited. You’d met the Prince once before at a ball his family held in their castle. He’d asked you to dance and before you knew it, he was whisking you around the dance floor at the age of fifteen with his hand in your own. He was very sweet from what you could remember. His boyishly handsome face and adorable eye smile being imprinted in your memory as a crush on him bloomed in your stomach. After the dance, he’d bowed to you and pressed a kiss to the back of your gloved hand. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and now you were nervous for your reunion with the blond Prince. The people of the Northern Kingdom were known to have black hair that stood out amongst the bright snow, however, the royal family all had light coloured hair, it running in the family for generations. You knew this from all the portraits on the walls that had golden plaques highlighting the names of each royal family member. You were brought out of your thoughts by the muffled sound of shouting coming from behind a closed door. Your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as Mark stopped in front of the door. This led you to believe the aggressive voice behind the oak door was that belonging to Prince Jeno. Mark hesitated, the voice as clear as day, and he didn’t know whether to take you away or to follow the strict instructions he had of taking you to meet the Prince. Your palms started to sweat as you listened to the deep voice.

“I won’t do it. You can’t force me to marry some random girl I’ve never even met!” His voice echoed around the room and into the hall where you stood. You felt a hot flush run through you, and you doubted it was from the warmer clothes you’d been stuffed into upon arriving in the cold kingdom.

“I can and I am.” A softer voice retorted, not sounding at all phased by the argument at hand. “You have met her.”

“Well obviously she isn’t that special since I can’t remember her.” The voice growled before a thud of wood hitting the marble floor sounded.

“Stop acting like a child and take on the responsibilities of a Prince. You’re an adult now Jeno and you better start acting like it.” You looked down at your feet, refusing to look up at Mark as you felt embarrassed from hearing all of this. Sadness flooded your body; all the excitement having been drained from you upon hearing the argument between the Prince and what you could only assume was the King.

“Fuck. You.” The deep voice growled before the sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the room, a dead silence followed that. Mark was frozen on the spot, not wanting to interrupt but feeling guilty for listening in. You felt bad for the young servant. He was clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Don’t you dare speak to your father like that ever again Jeno.” A soft but stern voice of a woman piped up.

“I’m sorry Princess, I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” Mark whispered and when no one spoke from behind the door, Mark used this as an opportunity to knock on the door. You bowed your head to him and tried your best to plaster on a fake smile despite the heartache you were feeling beneath.

“Come in.” The woman’s voice spoke, and Mark opened the door.

“Your majesties,” He bowed to the King and Queen, then turned to Prince Jeno. “Your highness,” He bowed to him and then cleared his throat. “Princess (Y/N) of the Southern Kingdom has arrived.” He stepped out of the way to reveal your nervous figure. You bowed to them and continued to keep your fake smile on your face. You glanced over at Prince Jeno timidly. The first thing you noticed was the bright red mark on his cheek from where he’d been struck by the Queen. Then you noticed the hard look on his face. He looked at you like he wanted you to tumble to your death off of a cliff, like you meant absolutely nothing to him. You also noticed how handsome he’d grown to be. He had deep eyes that you wanted to get lost in but stopped yourself from doing, his strong jaw making his cold expression look even more severe and his pink lips forming a hard line. He was wearing his white and gold uniform, you thought he probably had to be forced into it due to his reluctance to fulfil his Princely duty of marrying you. He had also grown a lot since the last time you saw him, his now tall frame looking daunting to you as his broad shoulders were clearly tensed up. His blond hair was parted off of his forehead and he had a crown perched on top of his head. Your smile faltered and you averted your gaze quickly, then noticing the chair that was upturned on the floor. That must have been the wooden noise you’d heard clattering from behind the door.

“Welcome my dear!” The Queen smiled a wide smile quickly, approaching you with her arms out. When she got to you, she cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes. She didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the wateriness of them that you’d heard everything that had just been said. “Did you have a safe journey?” She tried to distract you and lift your spirits, her stomach fluttering in guilt at her son’s behaviour. She looked at your long-sleeved dress that went down to your feet. The thick, red material being a symbol of your Kingdom’s red flag. “Are you warm enough? I know how much different it must be from the heat of your Kingdom.”

“Yes, your majesty.” You spoke quietly and gave her a weak smile. She let go of your cheeks and instead took your hand into one of her own.

“Let me introduce you to my family.” You’d never met the King and Queen before, but you’d seen them from afar those many years ago when you’d attended the ball they held at their palace. They both hadn’t aged a day from what you could remember, their faces looking youthful with slight age marks around their eyes. The Queen was probably one of the most beautiful women you’d ever laid eyes on. You felt like dirt compared to her and tried to push back the self-conscious feeling you felt. She had long blonde hair that was dead straight and stopped at her waist, two braids met in the middle of her head to keep her hair out of her face and the golden crown she had on top of her head gave her an ethereal look. You knew that she was too in your position once, but you doubted it went down the same way as it was in that moment. You wondered if she was chosen to marry the King because of her blonde hair, assuming the Royal family wanted to keep up the gene of them all being light haired. Gazing at the Queen made you long for your own mother, the Queen of the Southern Kingdom. You gulped back the lump in your throat and looked at the King as she introduced him.

“This is my husband, the King of the Northern Kingdom.” He bowed his head to you and gave you a genuine smile that reached his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice how much his son looked like him, they had the same face shape and nose, but the Prince had his mother’s lips and eyes. Together the two had made the most beautiful offspring.

“It’s a pleasure to have you in our home, I hope you feel welcome here and I’m happy to welcome you into the family.” His words felt sincere, but you didn’t feel welcome at all, at least not from the Prince. The King and Queen were doing a good job at making you feel comfortable though and it made you wonder how to lovely people such as themselves produced such a cold son.

“And this is our son, Prince Jeno.” She smiled, giving him a wide-eyed look that told him he was going to regret acting up in front of you. He let out a long sigh and bowed to you even though he looked reluctant to do so. “I wish you both good health and fortune in your upcoming marriage.” They both bowed once more before leaving you alone with the Prince in the sitting room you’d been brought to. Jeno let out a sigh and looked at Mark.

“Take the Princess to her chambers.” When Mark hesitated for a moment, clearly having been instructed by someone else to do something different, Jeno raised his voice. “Now!”

“Right this way your highness.” Mark exited the room quickly. You gave Jeno one last look, your heart pounding in disappointment as you looked at him. He turned his back to you and his shoulders stayed rigid until he heard the door shut behind him. You trailed after Mark through the daunting halls of the unfamiliar palace, feeling nauseous for your next meeting with the hostile Prince.

---

You tried to think of many ways to get out of going to dinner with your fiancé. However, as you sat on your larger than needed bed, you couldn’t think of any good excuses that would excuse you from meeting with the Prince. A maid had knocked on your door, waiting for your response before letting herself in. She told you it was time for you to get ready for your dinner, and she’d presented you with a baby blue and gold dress. The baby blue material was made from the finest of silk, with gold coloured lace adorning the top portion of the long-sleeved garment. The skirt came down to your ankles, and you’d been given a pair of matching blue heels to wear. The maid had then brushed out your long hair and plaited it, so the thick plait fell over your right shoulder. When you looked into the gold framed body length mirror, you couldn’t help but think about how innocent you looked. Your eyes were no longer red from the sobbing you’d done after Mark had left you alone in your new bedroom, but they still felt heavy and itchy.

“The Prince will be so shocked when he sees how beautiful you look your highness.” The sweet maid smiled at you from where she stood behind you. You caught her eye in the mirror and gave her a weak smile.

“What’s your name?” You asked in a quiet voice, feeling the comfort of her voice seep into you.

“My name is Nayeon, Princess (Y/N).” She kept up formalities as she bowed her head to you, the grandfather clock in the corner of your room chimed, signifying the turn of the hour. “Oh, it’s time to head down to dinner. You’ll be dining with Prince Jeno in his private dining area.”

“Will it just be the two of us?” You asked meekly, your hands clasped together as you played with your fingers in nervousness.

“Yes, your highness, now if you’d like to follow me.” You hesitated for a second before you followed her. She took you down the wide hall and you noticed that the temperature had dropped since the sun had gone down, making a light chill cascade up your spine, with the only light available coming from the lit lanterns flickering on the wall. She guided you around a corner and down one more hall before stopping in front of an open door. “Just through there, your dinner will be served soon.” She smiled and motioned for you to enter the room with your hand. You timidly took a step into the room, it looking like a typical dining room for a royal with a dark oak table in the centre, two chairs opposite each other on either side. A lit candle was on the middle of the table, in between two beautifully decorated plates. You then noticed Prince Jeno stood beside the table, he stood up straighter as you entered the room and bowed to you. You returned the bow, opening your mouth to speak but not really knowing what to say to him.

“Sit.” He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned with his head for you to sit. You hurried to take a seat, not wanting him to get mad at you like he had previously shown earlier on in the day.

“Thank you.” You spoke quietly, placing your hands in your lap and keeping your posture straight as you watched him sit in the chair opposite you. You let out a gentle sigh, averting your eyes and glancing around the room at the décor. He made no effort to start up a conversation with you, and you had no idea what you could possibly say to the Prince that would make him want to talk to you. Dinner was served and Jeno barely even looked at you. The silence made you feel sick and you hardly touched your food. He noticed, but he didn’t care. If you wanted to starve yourself then that was your problem, not his.

You left the dining room feeling dejected and sad. Nayeon took you back to your room and pretended as if she didn’t know that the Prince had hardly spoken with you, keeping a gentle smile on her face. She helped you get ready for bed, and then left you on your own with nothing but the light of the moon shining through the gap in the curtains. You sat on your bed, looking up at the ceiling as tears flooded your vision. You let out a long sigh, trying to contain your emotions as a wave of homesickness came over you. It was no use, because tears streamed from your eyes the second you thought about your parents. In a way you knew you should feel resentful of them for sending you away to a kingdom you didn’t really know to marry someone you’d only met once, but you knew they only did it because they had to. Your kingdom had been met by a financial crisis, and the first thing the royal advisors told your parents to do was to marry you off to a Prince from a financially stable kingdom. Obviously, your parents went to the richest kingdom out of the four kingdoms in your country. The Northern kingdom was best known for cold weather and its army, it had a reputation of being the saviour when it comes to wars with other countries across the sea. During wars, all four kingdoms banded together, and it was always after the army from the North got to the battle that it would end up being won. The Eastern kingdom was known for its rainy weather and the luscious fruit and vegetables that it produced. Food from the Eastern kingdom could be found in any of the four kingdoms as it was a highly traded good. The Western kingdom best known for its fishing and fashion; those being traded amongst the kingdoms for such a low price that the demand for the products kept the economy running. And your kingdom, the Southern kingdom, was known for its high population and poverty. It’s not something you were proud of, but the people in control were trying their hardest to get rid of the people living on the streets and give them a roof over their heads. Especially as your country had blistering heat almost all year round. You didn’t even want to think of the people who died from the exposure to the sun. But due to the financial crisis, this wasn’t achievable, so when your parents came to you about the arranged marriage, you didn’t kick up a fuss about it and instead decided to think of the positives, which led to you actually being excited about the marriage. Now though, you just wanted to go home.

---

A whole week of being ignored by the Prince had done nothing to lift your spirits. Well he hadn’t ignored you, but you wouldn’t class irritated looks of disgust over dinner every night to be polite. It really seemed to you like he hated you, and it felt like a knife being twisted in your stomach every time Nayeon would come to your room to collect you for a meal with your future spouse. The only time you could remember smiling and feeling genuinely happy was when the Queen had summoned you for lunch one afternoon. She’d made you feel welcome and tried her hardest not to talk about her son, instead asking you about your life and recommending things for you to do in the palace in your free time. Apart from that, you just counted down the days until your marriage whilst you strolled around the palace absentmindedly.

On Friday, you’d been dressed up in a pale pink gown. You’d gotten used to the long sleeves and heavy materials over the past week, nearly all of your new clothes being suited for the cold weather outside. You were glad though, because you still found yourself getting cold even under all the cloth you had draped over your body. Your hair had been pinned in a half up, half down style, the section that was up having been plaited into a bun. You felt pretty, which gave you a small burning of positivity in your gut. At midday, you’d been taken to the main dining hall. It was much larger than the intimate one you’d been eating with the Prince in, and you’d much prefer to have dinner with him in there from now on. Your eyes laid on a young man. He had a wide smile and black hair, his navy blue and white uniform telling you that he was of royal blood. You recognised the crest on his badge to be that of the Western kingdom. Sat at the table and not moving was Prince Jeno, he watched as the other handsome man approached you.

“Princess (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Prince Jaemin of the Western kingdom.” He bowed to you, holding his hand out for you to place yours in kiss. When you did, he brought your hand up and placed a soft kiss to the back of it. Your heart fluttered and a small smile rose on your lips. You’d known Prince Jaemin for a total of 30 seconds and he’d already shown you more affection and kindness than your own fiancé. You glanced at Jeno to see if he’d reacted to seeing another man kiss his fiancées hand, but he just watched you both with a blank look on his face. You bowed back and he didn’t let go of your hand, gently pulling you over to the table. He pulled your chair out for you and you sat down, sitting directly opposite to Jeno. Jaemin sat beside you and cleared his throat. “So, are you enjoying the North (Y/N)?” He asked, looking at you with a cute smile on his face. Where Jeno looked intimidatingly handsome, Jaemin looked the kind of handsome that had all the girls cooing over him, his smile being his killer feature.

“Oh, yes I am.” You lied with a fake smile on your face. “I can’t say that I love the weather, but everyone has made me feel so welcome.” You put emphasis on the word ‘everyone’, shooting Jeno a smile as you directed that at him. He narrowed his eyes at you and smirked in retaliation. His smirk put a horrid feeling in your stomach, because that confirmed to you that Jeno knew exactly how he was acting towards you, and that he couldn’t find it within him to care.

“That’s great!” As you spoke with Jaemin, the servants brought out the food, setting down steaming plates in front of all three of you. You sipped at your wine and listened to Jaemin as he went off on a tangent about marriage. You noticed that throughout the meal Jeno had flagged down the nearest maid multiple times to refill his glass of wine.

“May I ask what brought you here today Jaemin?” You asked when he’d finally taken a moment to stop talking and to eat instead. He swallowed his food and looked at Jeno before looking back at you. He was about to answer when Jeno spoke up first.

“He visits once a month.” His voice was deep and held little emotion.

“Oh, may I ask why?” You asked Jaemin despite it having been Jeno that gave you an answer.

“Our mothers are sisters, when his mother comes to visit my mother, she brings him with her.” Jeno was the one to answer you yet again. This is the most conversation you’d gotten out of him since you arrived, and it was a bittersweet moment for you. On one hand you were happy that he was actually talking to you, and on the other hand you were devastated that he sounded so emotionless.

“So basically, we’re cousins.” Jaemin nodded and smiled, taking a sip of his own wine. “He’s older by a few months.”

“That’s lovely.” You gave Jaemin a genuine smile and you could see that he really looks up to Jeno, despite the small age gap.

“Not as lovely as you Princess.” Jaemin winked at you and sipped at his wine again. You felt your cheeks flush and you shot a glance to Jeno who had one eyebrow raised, but apart from that, he didn’t look like he cared. “I must say, I am rather envious of my cousin for being the one to marry you, but I wish you happiness.” You almost begged Jaemin to take you away from this kingdom and to take you home with him, but you knew it wouldn’t make much difference and would only make things worse for you in the long run. “But you know where the Western kingdom is.” He winked at you. Jeno cleared his throat as a warning but Jaemin didn’t seem phased at all.

---

Jaemin’s visit two weeks ago had seemed like a lifetime ago, and you wished the handsome boy would come more often so you had something to look forward to. Jeno hadn’t spoken to you much, which you were getting used to. It made you wonder if this is how he was going to treat you even after you were married and with children. You hoped not, that was enough to make anyone go insane. It became too much for you one morning, and after sitting through breakfast on your own in the large dining room, you decided to make an effort with the Prince. Walking down the east wing of the palace that would take you straight to the Prince’s chambers, you passed Mark who had a smile on his face the moment he saw you.

“Good morning your Highness.” He bowed to you, expecting you to just bow and continue walking but you stopped, holding your hand out to him to stop him too.

“Good morning, do you happen to know where the Prince is?”

“Oh yes, I believe he’s just finished his breakfast and he’s relaxing in his bedroom. Would you like me to take you to him?”

“No that won’t be necessary, thank you Mark.” You bowed your head to him. He bowed in return and bid you goodbye. You walked towards the Prince’s bedroom and stopped in front of his door. You took in a deep breath and gingerly knocked on the door, regretting it almost immediately as all your courage drained from you.

“Come in.” The Prince’s voice called through the door. You noticed that his tone was light and airy, not like anything you’d ever heard from him since every time you’re in his presence he’s hostile and blunt. As you entered the room, you saw him look up to see who it was. His face fell when he saw you stood timidly in the doorway; his eyes boring into yours for a moment before he turned to look away once more. “What do you want?” his voice was no longer airy and light, his tone more resembling daggers stabbing at you with the intent to harm.

“I wish to get to know you better. We are going to marry after all.” You tried to hold a tone of confidence, but you were afraid you sounded like a nervous child about to tell their mother they’d wet the bed.

“I’m busy.” He grunted, not even sparing you a glance.

“Doing what might I ask?” You walked into his room, nerves flooding your body with such unease that you could feel it in your toes and fingertips. He slowly turned to look at you and narrowed his eyes, clearly not liking how you questioned him.

“Fine. Let’s spend time together.” He stood up, his chair skidding across the marble floor with an ear tingling screech. He snatched your wrist into his hand and pulled you harshly out of the room. The grip he had on you was hurting, but you decided not to say anything as he dragged you through the castle. You struggled to keep up with him, having to alternate between jogging and walking fast so that you didn’t fall. He pulled you outside into the freezing wind and let go of you. Your arms automatically wrapped around your body, goose bumps rising on your body as the long-sleeved dress you wore did nothing to protect you from the wind. Flurries of snow hit you as the sky coughed out the snow in sparse gusts. “Go stand over there by that tree.” He commanded you, pointing at a tree that had a large trunk. You gulped but obeyed him, not wanting to make him mad, but you were very confused as to why he had instructed you to do so. You trudged through the snow and stood with your back to the tree, your body shivering from the chill. He went over to a small wooden shed nearby and pulled out a bow. Your eyes widened as he grabbed 3 arrows and stood parallel to you, about 20 feet away.

“What are you doing?” You questioned as he loaded the bow with an arrow, standing with two feet apart and his left side facing you.

“Spending quality time with my fiancée! You’re helping me practice my archery!” He gave you a wide smile, but you could see the sinister look behind his eyes even from far away. “Now stand very still, don’t worry my love, I am very good at this.” He winked at you and your stomach plummeted through the snow.

‘He’s going to kill me so he doesn’t have to marry me.’ You thought to yourself as he pulled back the string, closing one of his eyes as he aimed at you. You didn’t think that the shivers you were experiencing were from the cold anymore, but from the paralysing fright you were undergoing. You couldn’t move, your feet feeling anchored to the floor like a one of the criminals they locked away in the dungeons. Jeno smirked to himself when he saw you squeeze your eyes shut, letting go of the string and sending an arrow flying towards you. It hit where he had aimed it for perfectly, and it stuck into the bark of the tree an inch above your head. You let out a whimper and flinched as you heard the ear-splitting crack of the wood above you, your heart pounding in your chest and your breathing becoming too quick for you to control.

You were having a panic attack. Something you hadn’t had in a long time. As a child you were riddled with anxiety after one of your nanny’s had told you a story of a princess being kidnapped from her home. You lived under the constant fear that bad people were going to break into your chambers and steal you in the dead of night, using the guise of the dark to get away with it. Needless to say, once your mother and father found out why you were suffering from constant anxiety attacks and would flinch whenever anyone approached you, they had banished that nanny from the castle. After months of therapy, you had found your life much easier to cope with and your parents had assigned guards to be with you and stationed outside of your door every night. You grew out of it by the time you were a teenager. But this was bringing back all the feelings you’d been able to push aside for so long, and you felt like a child once more, cowering at the thought of being killed by a stranger. Jeno loaded another arrow into his bow and aimed it at you, pausing once he saw you let out a sob, your frame hunched over and arms wrapped around yourself.

“Shit.” He mumbled, knowing he’d taken his little joke too far. He was one of the best archers in the kingdom, so he knew his arrow wouldn’t hit you. But you didn’t know that, and in your mind, he had every reason to want you dead. He lowered his bow and gulped, throwing it to the floor and running through the snow to you. “Open your eyes.” He grunted, placing his big hands on your shoulders and giving you a firm shake. You couldn’t breathe. It felt like his arrow had hit you in the throat and punctured your windpipe, the air not successfully inflating your lungs and your head feeling like someone was crushing it with their hands. “Hey!”

“D-don’t k-k-kill me.” You stuttered out, your lungs gasping for air as your throat gave it restricted access to small puffs of oxygen. Jeno was taken aback by your words. Standing frozen in the snow with his eyes watching you have a meltdown in front of him. He snapped out of his daze and gulped down his guilt, sighing like you were a nuisance as he scooped you up into his arms. You whimpered as he touched you, your body going completely stiff in his grasp as he trudged through the snow, carrying you like you weighed nothing.

“I won’t hurt you.” He mumbled, taking you inside and setting you down on a lavish chair that was in the corner of the hallway beside a small round table that held fresh flowers in a beautifully painted white and blue vase. He kneeled down on one knee so that he was facing you. “Breathe…” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he took one of your hands into both of his. You looked at him, your eyes bloodshot and your cheeks freezing cold from where the winter air had hit the tear tracks on your skin. You hadn’t seen him this close since you were fifteen and had been dancing with him at the ball. He was beautiful. His straight nose, his deep brown eyes, his very slightly plump but very pink lips and his strong jawline had you distracted from the internal panic you felt. Your breathing slowly steadied as he kept his stare on you, looking you dead in the eyes as he studied you. His thumb stroked the back of your hand, and you gulped down the lump in your throat as you looked at him. You bottom lip wobbled and one tear fell from your eye as your brain came back around to its normal state. “Are you alright?” He asked, slowly withdrawing his hands from your own. You nodded in response, not trusting your vocal cords to answer him. He stood up, and with a curt nod of his head he hurried off down the hall of the castle, leaving you alone in the chair he’d sat you in. Not long after Jeno’s retreat, Mark came running down the hallway with a panicked look on his face.

“Princess!” You knew that Jeno had recruited Mark to go see if you were okay. It hurt you that Jeno couldn’t even bare to be with you that much that he couldn’t stick around and be with you himself, instead he sent his servant. Mark kept asking you questions and trying to gain your attention, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what he was saying. He timidly helped you up to your feet and took you to your bedroom, checking on your every hour to make sure you were feeling okay. You weren’t.

---

It had been three and a half weeks of your dearly beloved Prince Jeno doing his finest effort to avoid you. You had briefly seen him during a dinner that the King and Queen both required your attendance for. You sat opposite each other and he refused to meet your eye, his attention on his mother most of the night and it seemed as though he was ignoring his own father as well. Although you had no idea why he would do that to the King. But you didn’t want to ask to find out. He spoke to his mother and even sat beside her, seeming almost as if he was being clingy with her like you’d expect a 5-year-old mummy’s boy to be. She played up to his whims and always responded to him like a loving mother, even going as far to pat his cheek at one point when he shot her a small pout at something his father had said. The whole scene didn’t look very Queen and Prince like, more mother and son like. But because the dinner wasn’t official business you assumed that they didn’t care. It was now obvious to you that the slap she’d struck Jeno with on your first day in the castle was a very rare occurrence.

You had spent a few afternoons with the Queen, getting to know her and learning how to do your official duties as the upcoming Princess and Queen of the Northern Kingdom. She was a very gentle soul and you always felt comfortable around her. As for the King, you didn’t really see him much unless it was in passing or that one time during your dinner with the royal family. Nayeon went missing for a week, and Mark had told you that she was on leave for those 7 days just to visit her family, but that she would be back again in no time. So for that week you had no one to keep you company, which saddened you deeply and left you wallowing in your loneliness as if you were being punished like a criminal on trial for manslaughter.

When Nayeon came back she made sure to spend a lot of time with you to make up for her absence. She made you tea every night before you slept, and she would tell you stories that her family had embarked on. Your favourite story of hers was the one about her father going into war when she was a child. Her father had been in the Northern army and had fought along many men, old and young, in an attempt to stop the four Kingdoms being invaded by the Country of Hacin across the seas. You remembered being very young when armies from all four Kingdoms banded together to fight off the incoming threat. The war had started after your parents refused to set you up for an arranged marriage with Prince Renjun of Hacin. They didn’t want you to be in a different country, so they refused the offer presented to them. Which the King and Queen of Hacin didn’t like. Causing them to declare war. It was mostly the Western Kingdom that got the brunt of the war, as they were the Kingdom parallel to Hacin across the sea. The troops made their way to the Western Kingdom and fought against the threat, but it wasn’t until the Northern Kingdom joined that the war finally came to an end. You had heard that thousands of men had lost their lives in battle, and you were eternally grateful to them all. Nayeon’s father was one of the men who never made it home to their families, and that’s the reason why it was your favourite story of hers. Because you could see the pain in her eyes and her strained tone in her voice as she tried to hold back her tears, and it made you feel grateful for the life you’d been given. You had made sure that Nayeon knew how you felt towards the war and she could tell that you were grateful for her father’s sacrifice.

A few days ago you started to feel really hot, despite the chill drifting in like a haze into your room through the open window. The curtains billowing from the slight breeze the cold winters air presented the Kingdom with. You shouldn’t shake the burning feeling that you had sitting inside of you like a furnace with an unlimited supply of coal. It caused unwanted sweat to bead on your skin and your lungs to speed up in attempt to cool yourself down. It was night-time so you knew most of the staff would be asleep or busy doing their own chores. You gripped onto the sheets of your bed and squeezed your eyes shut as a wave of nausea flushed through you and made you feel on the verge of throwing up. You gritted your teeth and stood up, involuntarily bending and gripping at your stomach as the unbearable sense of sickness stabbed at your gut. You whimpered, a sob falling from your lips as your knees buckled, your body hitting the floor with a dull thud. Externally you felt numb, the tips of your fingertips having no feeling and your body crashing to the floor didn’t bother you. Internally though you felt like you were going to die a slow death. You tried to steady you breathing, but you couldn’t, nothing but choked sobs falling from your lips as you gently blacked out.

---

The sun shining on the white snow was causing Jeno to squint as he drank his morning tea. His mother was accompanying him during breakfast, and they sat peacefully inside of her personal dining room. The floor to ceiling length windows allowing the hot sun to hit his skin and leave behind a warm feeling. It was a rare day of no clouds or falling snow, which always had Jeno waking up in a good mood.

“Jeno, my dear…” The Queen sipped at her tea and delicately dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “You should be having breakfast with (Y/N), not with me.” She gave him a soft smile and let out a laugh when he sighed, immediately popping food into his mouth with his fork in an attempt to delay his response. “She is a lovely girl, and I know you don’t want to marry her. But avoiding her isn’t going to do either of you any good in the long run.” Jeno chewed his food slowly and gulped it down, sighing once more before nodding.

“I know mother.”

“Is that all you have to say?” She tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows and rolling her eyes.

“No, I-” He was interrupted by the doors to the room flying open, Mark stood in the doorway, out of breath from where he had been running.

“Your Majesty, your Highness, you have to come quickly!” He gulped watching as the mother and son both stared at him in confusion. The Queen slowly rose from her seat but Jeno stayed where he was sat.

“What is it Mark?” She asked, approaching him quickly.

“It’s Princess (Y/N), we found her on the floor of her room about ten minutes ago. She was breathing but she was unresponsive. The Doctor is looking at her now.” Mark spoke so quickly that Jeno almost couldn’t understand what he was saying. He widened his eyes and stood up quickly. He then paused, and slowly sat back down in his chair. He coughed awkwardly and bowed his head once to Mark.

“Make sure she gets the best care. Keep me updated.” His voice held no emotion, and Mark knew that the Prince wasn’t going to be following him anytime soon. The Queen frowned at her son, but instead of chastising him, she quickly followed Mark.

Jeno sat at the dining table and pushed his plate away from him. He felt sick with worry that something bad was going to happen to you, but he couldn’t bring himself to face you. He was still holding guilt from the stunt he had pulled with you but didn’t want it to seem like he cared too much about you. He let out a sigh and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration, unsure of what to do.

---

The anticipation had killed Jeno over the day that he avoided everyone in hopes of not having any updates about you. Every time he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom, he made himself busy and refused to let anybody in, acting as if his work was more important than you. He hadn’t had a chance to take a step back and gather up all of his thoughts and feelings towards you. He was conflicted. On one hand, you were probably one of the most beautiful humans he had ever laid eyes on, and you had a very sweet personality to go with your sweet looks. But on the other hand, he did not want to get married yet, he also didn’t know you that well and because of his stubborn nature, he didn’t want to get to know you purely out of spite at his forced marriage.

The next morning, Jeno went about his day as normal, eating breakfast and then making his way to the palace courtyard to practice his archery. When he made it to the doors without bumping into anyone of significance, he metaphorically gave himself a pat on the back. Until Mark approached him from behind.

“Your Highness,” Mark spoke up, causing Jeno to jolt in surprise at the sudden chirp of Mark’s voice. Mark had always been silently stealthy and was almost a professional at silently making his way around the palace. “Sorry to interrupt, but you told me to keep you updated on Princess (Y/N).” Jeno turned around and let out an irritated sigh, nodding his head at Mark.

“Go on.” His voice was gruff, and he rolled his eyes. Mark took a deep breath, giving Jeno eyes that were full of pity.

“The Doctor has diagnosed her with the Macetipis Virus…” Jeno felt like a surge of heat rush through him at Mark’s words. His throat created a lump of emotion that made him feel uncomfortable and he had to look away from Mark to keep his cool. “She has all the symptoms, a high temperature, she keeps floating in and out of consciousness, and she keeps throwing up a yellow liquid.”

“I know the symptoms Mark.” He growled, storming off down the hall without giving Mark another look. He made his way to your bedroom, not bothering with knocking as he let himself straight into the room. Nayeon looked up at him with a wide-eyed look as she set down a steaming cup of tea on your bedside table. She immediately bowed and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Out.” Jeno grunted. She complied immediately and left the room without another word. Jeno gulped when he saw you tucked up in your bed, your eyes closed, and head lolled slightly to the side. Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked at you, feeling a horrid guilt at how he’d treated you as he stared at your limp body.

He sat down on your bed, taking one of your cold hands into both of his. He lifted it up to his lips and laid a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, a tear falling down his cheek as in that moment, he absolutely hated himself. You were going to die. He was sure of it. The last person he saw with the Macetipis Virus didn’t last longer than a week before she took her final breath and died peacefully in her sleep. He was sure his sister was going to live, but she didn’t. And at the age of thirteen he watched her slowly wither away before him even though the doctor had told the family that it was possible to overcome the disease. She was only ten years old, and she had her whole life ahead of her. Jeno had always promised her that when he became King that no one would ever harm her, and she could live her life as a beautiful Princess wherever she wanted to be, without having to worry about an arranged marriage. Now he couldn’t fulfil that promise because her little life was cut short, all because of the virus that was unavoidable. It wasn’t contagious, and so far, no one had figured out how people became ill with it. There had been no cases of males having the virus, so it was assumed that only females could contract it. Jeno knew this, that’s why he wasn’t worried about being by your side during this even if it wasn’t supposed to be contagious.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You didn’t deserve how I’ve been treating you…I should have realised that you’re in the same boat as me and you’re going through an unwanted marriage as well.” He gulped, keeping his voice in a low whisper so that no one outside of your room could hear you. “Now you’re probably going to die, and you’ll have died unhappy and I am so sorry Princess.” The lump in his throat started to burn, but he didn’t care. He sat by your side all day, ordering anyone that entered your room to leave. He left around mid-evening to eat some dinner. You hadn’t woken up at all throughout the day, much to Jeno’s dismay. He wanted nothing more than for you to open your eyes so he could voice to you how sorry he was with you actually being able to hear him.

---

“What the fuck do you mean the wedding is being pushed back?” Jeno growled in a low tone, his teeth gritted, and his fists clenched. He had a surge of anger flush through him and he could feel his hands start to shake in aggression.

“Well Your Highness, Princess (Y/N) is very s-”

“I know that she’s sick.” He snapped; the poor servant stood opposite him flinching in fear. “Who made this decision? Tell me!”

“T-the King and Queen.” The servant gulped but visibly relaxed when Jeno stormed off down the hall, making his way to the throne room where he knew his mother and father were. He wasn’t subtle as he burst through the wooden doors to the throne room, completely ignoring the small crowd of people and storming up the royal red carpet to his parents who were both sat on their respected thrones.

“You pushed back our wedding?!” He shouted, his legs moving fast in his haste. He stopped in front of his parents, a scowl marred on his face and his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “She’s going to fucking die any day now and you want her to die an unmarried woman?!” Jeno’s voice got louder, his anger evident to the people who brought him into the world. Everyone in the room was dead silent as they listened to the distressed Prince. The King frowned at him, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Jeno calm down.” His father spoke with a stern voice, sitting up straighter on his golden throne and looking down his nose at his son.

“NO!” Jeno stepped closer, running a hand through his thick blond hair in frustration. “You know how frowned up it is to die an unmarried woman, and you want that to happen to her?!” He gulped, tears filling his eyes as he flicked his eyes over to his mother. “Mother…she doesn’t deserve this…” He knew the Queen would be the one to pity him and end up giving him what he wanted, like she had most of his life. “Please.”

“Jeno, she can hardly hold her own head up. She can’t marry someone in the state that she’s in.” Her voice was soft, and she gave him a look that shows how much pity she felt for him.

“It’s been three days and they’ve told me that the keeps waking up, she can do it!”

“No.” The King spoke again, shutting Jeno off and causing the young Prince to let his emotions get the best of him. His face crinkled up as he started to sob. He felt embarrassed at his crying so he covered his face with his hands. The King rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “Don’t even try to turn the water works on, your mother isn’t going to give in.” They were both used to Jeno turning on his emotions to make his mother give him what he wanted, and the King assumed that what he was doing this time. This made Jeno angry again, ripping his hands away from his face and staring at his father once more.

“Go to hell.” He turned around and ran out of the room, not bothering to look back as his mother called for him. He ran until he reached his own room, knowing he needed to gather his thoughts and calm himself down before he visited you for the day.

He left it an hour before he collected a small bunch of bright yellow flowers from the palaces inside garden, letting himself into your room and coming to a dead stop when he saw your eyes staring back at him. This was the first time he’d been around to witness your consciousness, only having heard about it from Nayeon.

“Jeno?” Your voice was raspy and barely audible from where you laid in your bed. Jeno gulped, approaching you slowly with a slight hesitance in his heart. He felt like your eyes were piercing through him, making his insides tighten and his throat close up.

“How are you feeling?” He asked the first thing that came to his mind as he gently set the bunch of flowers into an empty vase on your bedside table.

“Bad.” You whispered out, unsure of how to communicate with the man who had only ever shown hostility towards you. If you didn’t have the horrible sense of nausea swimming inside of your stomach, you probably would have felt butterflies of anxiety take flight. He timidly sat on the edge of your bed, awkwardly grasping his own hands before letting out a sigh.

“I want to apologise to you for how I treated you.” You watched him from where you laid, your eyes nervously darting around the room when he stared you dead in the eye. “You’re a Princess, and you didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my immaturity.” He reached out and took your hand in his own, lifting it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss to your cold skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Jeno.” You used all the strength you had to try and sit up, but you couldn’t quite muster it. Jeno let go of your hand when he saw that you wanted to be more upright, placing his hands underneath you to lift you up against the pillows. He grabbed the cup of tea that was still lukewarm to the touch and raised it to your lips. You sipped the tea and cleared your throat, feeling a sort of relief at the liquid at it slid down your throat. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” You spoke in a soft manor, shocked at the sight of the hard-headed Prince being apologetic to you. You’d never seen this warm-hearted side of the Prince, and you wanted to cry your heart out at how sweet he was being.

“They pushed our wedding back…but I promise you, when you recover, we will have the biggest wedding in all of history.” His encouraging smile made you let out a whimper of a giggle, your throat still feeling groggy and not allowing you to make all the noises you wanted to. “And I will be the best husband I can be. But until then, you need to get better, so that I can take you on some dates.” He chuckled, ignoring the tears that came to his eyes as he had it in his mind that you weren’t going to survive.

“Tell me about the dates.” You closed your eyes when a burning sensation ran down your oesophagus, causing you to wince as a rush of nausea hit you in the gut once more.

“Okay well I don’t know if you’ve been to the inside gardens yet, but I want to have afternoon tea there with you. It’s beautiful, there’s an array of so many colours and smells, and it’s so quiet in there. The walls are made entirely of glass, so it gets rather hot when the sun hits it, but the white of the snow outside is such a contrast to the colours inside that it-” He paused as you started to cough, your chest jolting as the uncontrollable coughs left your mouth. Jeno immediately jumped to his feet, pulling you forward so you were sat completely upright. He patted your back firmly, then rubbed his hand in circles on your back. “It’s okay, cough it up.” He grabbed the nearby bowl that had been set aside for when you needed to throw up, holding it in front of your mouth as he patted your back with his other hand. You felt embarrassed as you coughed, eventually puking into the bowl and letting out a whimper from the mortification you felt at throwing up in front of your fiancé. “Good girl, it’s okay.” He put the bowl down, grabbing a handkerchief from your drawer and wiping your mouth with it. He gently kissed your forehead without thinking about it, laying you down again and stroking your hair gently.

“Thank you.” You whispered out, your cheeks burning and the sick feeling sitting heavy on your stomach still.

“My sister was ill with the same illness you have.” He looked down at the floor, a heavy sinking feeling washing over him as he thought back to watching his sister die. You didn’t even know that Jeno had a sister, and you were intrigued to find out more. No one had ever told you about the Princess of the Northern Kingdom, so you had no idea she even existed. You wanted to ask him about her, but you didn’t know if he would respond to you with hostility, and you also found it hard to speak after the onslaught of pain you felt in your throat from throwing up. Jeno continued speaking without having to be prompted, feeling a slight weight lifted off of his shoulders at finally talking about his sister after being silent about it for so many years. “I spent all day every day by her side, I wouldn’t even let the maids help her, it had to be me. I was her older brother and I felt the need to protect her.” He cleared his throat as a lump arose inside of it, all his emotions pilling up and making tears well up in his beautiful eyes. “She died 4 days after being diagnosed.” You reached out and took his hand in your own, giving it a weak squeeze just to show him that you were listening, and you felt empathy towards him. “I won’t let that happen to you.” His eyes bore into your own, and you could see how broken the Prince was, all of his bad attitude making sense, but not excusing it.

He sat by your side all evening, talking to you for about ten more minutes before you drifted back into unconsciousness, but he still stayed by you. He asked Mark to fetch him a book so that he could keep himself entertained whilst keeping watch over you. At around 7 o’clock the door to the room opened slowly. Jeno looked up and smiled softly when he saw his Mother entering the room. She looked slightly surprised to see him sat there, her eyebrows raising on her beautiful face.

“Jeno I didn’t know you were here.” She closed the door with a gentle push, not wanting to make too much noise as she saw that you were sleeping.

“You shouldn’t be here; you could catch it mother!” His eyes widened with worry, not wanting his own mother to catch the disease that took his sisters life. He knew it wasn’t contagious but he couldn’t risk it.

“Jeno I will be fine; I’m only stopping by for a few minutes.” She smiled softly to him, giving him a small bout of reassurance. “You’re a good man Jeno, you being here for her when she’s in this condition is a good thing for you to do.”

“I don’t want her to wake up alone,” He closed his book and set it aside, moving to stroke your lifeless hand that laid on the bed. “I owe her so much; she can’t die alone.”

“Oh sweetheart.” The Queen sighed, approaching her son and leaning down to place a kiss on his head. She felt a sudden rush of pride at his confession, glad he was finally acting like the fiancé that you deserved. She was finally seeing the young man that she’d raised to be a compassionate, loving Prince. “I’m glad you’ve finally come around to marrying her…may I ask what changed your mind?”

Jeno thought for a moment, before taking a deep breath and letting out a long sigh. “Miyah never got to have her happy ever after and seeing (Y/N) like this broke my heart. I want her to have her happy ending.”

“You know you have to apologise to your father. The way y-” She was cut off as you started to cough in your sleep, your eyes suddenly blinking open as you couldn’t cough up what was stuck in your throat. Jeno jumped up from his spot and lifted you up so you were sitting upright, patting your back hard to stop you from choking. The Queen watched with wide eyes as you coughed up blood, it staining the sheets over you and dripping down your chin. Jeno gasps loudly, frowning in confusion at the sight of the blood. He rubbed your back as you started to sob from seeing the blood, his stomach dropping as he looked over at his mother. “Miyah never coughed up blood! It isn’t one of the symptoms, she may not have Macetipis!” He propped up the pillows against the headboard and laid you against them, not sparing any moment before sprinting out of the door towards the palace’s doctor’s room.

You looked at the Queen and whimpered, fear rushing through you and your stomach twisting in anxiety. “I don’t want to die!” Your voice was hoarse, and you shuddered before spewing more blood onto the sheets. The Queen stroked your head as your breathing picked up, your chest rising and falling fast in your panic. She opened her mouth, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying, everything sounding muffled and cloudy as your vision blurred. The world went dark as your eyes closed, your consciousness slipping away once more.

---

The sound of birds singing is the only sound you heard when your body brought itself out of the slumber of sleep that you’d been in more than 24 hours. The last thing you remembered was the sight of your sheets being spoiled by the sight of your own blood, but as you stared down at the sheets placed delicately over your body, you saw nothing but pristine white. You laid there for what felt like ages, feeling thirsty but not having the energy to reach for your glass of water that you could see sitting on your nightstand looking appetizing and delicious. You felt better than you had felt since you’d come down with your sickness, and you prayed that you didn’t get any worse. Jeno entered the room half an hour later, surprise written across his face when he saw you staring back at him.

“You’re awake!” He rushed to your side and took your hand straight into his. He had a soft smile playing on his lips, but you could tell he was being suspicious about something. “How are you feeling?” You cleared your throat as he helped you sit up, propping your thick pillows up behind you to keep you steady.

“Better.” He passed you the glass of water when he heard how croaky your voice was, it sounding like you had a thousand swords lodged inside of your throat.

“I have something to tell you, and I don’t want you to panic. Just know before I tell you this, that everything has been sorted out, and you will be getting better okay?” His fingers traced soft circles on your skin that left a tickling sensation in their wake. You nodded, not wanting to use your voice if you didn’t have to as your throat felt stiff. “You didn’t have Macetipis, after you started coughing up blood, I knew something wasn’t right. I got the doctor, and he knew immediately that you’d been poisoned.” Your stomach flipped and you felt queasy at the thought of someone trying to kill you. “It didn’t make sense at first, no one from the outside had access to your room. So I knew it must have been someone who had been coming into your room. I’ve been here most of the time, and the only people who were allowed in this room were my mother, my father, Mark, the doctor, Nayeon, and myself. The doctor tried his best to save you, so it wouldn’t make sense that he was trying to kill you. My mother, father, and I would never do such a thing. If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” His words made your eyes widen in surprise that he’d say something that dramatic in such a calm manner. “I trust Mark with my life, and when questioned he said he knew nothing about it, and I could tell he wasn’t lying to me. Which left dear, sweet, Nayeon.” He growled her name, his fists clenching around your hand but not hard enough to hurt you. “When questioned, she confessed almost immediately. She’d been putting poison in the tea she’d been serving you.” Your heart dropped as you thought of the sweet maid who’d made you feel welcomed. You had no idea she could even do something like that. “The poison was a weak one that would take at least two weeks to finish you off. It was meant to give you a slow, painful death. But you have to take all doses of it for it to work. She said she’d gotten if when she was visiting her family. She blames you for her father’s death in the war.” Your heart ached as Jeno told you that. You had trusted Nayeon, and you felt tears fill your eyes as you thought it all over inside of your head.

“What’s her punishment?” You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to fall as your throat hurt even more with the rising lump inside of it.

“Death.” He sneered, his body tense with hatred and anger. He couldn’t believe that someone had the nerve to try and take his Princess away from him, right underneath his nose too. You gasped, your eyes opening quickly.

“No! Please don’t kill her Jeno!” Your tone was desperate, and Jeno knitted his eyebrow together in confusion at your plea.

“She tried to kill you (Y/N)!”

“You shot an arrow at my head.” You deadpanned at him, showing him you weren’t afraid to speak against him if you had to. His face immediately fell, and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to conjure the right words to say.

“I didn’t ever intend on hurting you though…” His voice was soft, and he glanced down at his hands.

“You could have. Prince Jeno, please…spare her life.”

“No. The punishment stands, and I don’t want to hear you ask for me to change it again. Am I clear?” You shuddered at his dominant tone, immediately losing all the courage you previously had to speak against him and just simply nodded. He sighed and momentarily closed his eyes. “They’ve set a date for out wedding. It’s a month away.” You didn’t reply to him, sipping your water slowly and keeping your eyes anywhere but on him. “Princess…don’t ignore me.” You looked at him and gave him a blank stare, only giving him the silent treatment to show him that you were displeased with his choice. He frowned at you and took the glass of water out of your hands. “When you’re better, we are going to spend a lot of time together, because I am determined to make this work between us. So you’ll have to talk to me eventually.” When you didn’t reply to him, he started to get frustrated, not used to people pulling this kind of thing with him. “Fine.” He stood up and before you could say anything, he’d stormed out of the room so he could throw his tantrum without you seeing.

You let out a sigh and snuggled back down into your bed, feeling a wave of fatigue hit you as you got comfortable. You flinched when the door flung back open and Jeno was stood in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

“You win! She’ll have her life spared. But you are forbidden to speak with her, and she will be sent to live in the Western Kingdom as a slave. Happy?” The smile that you gave him after hearing his defeat made his heart flutter, and he knew in that moment that if all if took for you to smile like that at him was him giving you your own way, then he’d have to start getting used to not having things go his way.

---

It had been two weeks since Nayeon’s confession. You were up and about on your feet and finally enjoying your time in the Northern Kingdom now that you had a fiancé who cared for you. It made you slightly sad that you had to be on deaths doorstep for him to come to his senses and make an effort with you, but since spending most of your days with the Prince, you were overjoyed that he’d changed his mind about you. Your first official date with Prince Jeno was a simple walk around the castle the day after you’d found out about Nayeon poisoning you. You were still rather tired, and Jeno didn’t want to tire you out completely, so he took you on a slow walk around the castle and told you all the stories he had about growing up in the castle. He held your hand tightly, keeping you close to him and enjoying every second he spent with you, just talking about sharing stories. It wasn’t an extravagant date, but it meant the world to you, and your opinion on the cold-hearted, hot head-headed Prince had completely changed. He’d taken time everyday to see you, whether it was to take you out and about on walks, or just to have breakfast, lunch, or dinner with you. Which you really appreciated, considering how busy the Prince was with his duties as the heir to the throne. He had told you that your parents had been exchanging letters with his own parents, but they had decided not to visit you during your illness, instead hoping to see you next on your wedding day. It hurt you that they couldn’t be bothered to make the trip to see you, but you pinned it down to it being such a long journey and you knew just how hard it was to sleep in a horse drawn carriage for the two day long journey.

The flickering candlelight sent shadows dancing on the spines of the thousands of books that lined the walls. Books that told stories, real and fiction, of wars, love, and of creatures of the night you knew didn’t exist. The library felt warm, the large fireplace lit with simmering flames to keep the Prince and his Princess warm in the late hours of the night. You watched Jeno’s lips as he read from the book opened in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth as they trailed across the words written on the paper. Your cheek was resting against the palm of your hand with your elbow keeping it steady on the table, and you couldn’t help the small smile on your lips as your listened to Jeno read about a Prince and a Princess falling in love. It was him who picked the book off of the shelf, and to be honest you had zoned out when he was reading some parts of the story, your brain focusing on his beautiful face more than the poetic words that tumbled from his mouth.

“He grasped her hands in his own, the softness of her fingertips causing riptides in the ocean of love he held deep within his soul, riptides he was ready to dive headfirst into, wanting nothing more than to drown from the assault of her love. The moonlight hit her rosy cheeks, if he wasn’t already blinded from her beauty then that would have ended his eyesight in that moment. Her lips were inviting, like a poison apple begging him to take a bite, but he knew in his heart that the poison she was offering with her plush, angel like lips, was one that would do him more good than bad.” He suddenly closed the book, glancing up at you with slightly reddened cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows, moving your hand from your cheek to rest it on the table.

“I was enjoying that…” You pouted at him, wanting to know what happened next with the Prince and Princess. “What happens next?”

“Come with me.” He stood up abruptly, hoping that you couldn’t see how his hands were shaking as he snatched your hand into his own.

“Where are we going?” He started to walk so fast that you had to use your free hand to raise your flowing dress up off of the floor before you tripped over the loose material. He failed to respond to you as he steered the both of you through the dimly lit palace. He took you down three flights of stairs until you were on the ground floor, and he didn’t stop until he was stood outside of an arched wooden door. He pushed open the door and held it open for you to enter, smiling sweetly at you wondered past him. The first thing you noticed was the smell. The fresh, crisp smell of flowers and dirt was a welcoming smell, and one that you loved because it reminded you of the springtime in the Southern Kingdom. You couldn’t see much because of the looming darkness, but the full, bright moon shone through the glass ceiling and walls, lighting all the beautiful flowers giving them all a dim colour. You just knew that in the bright sunlight this place would be absolutely stunning.

Jeno gently guided you through the gap between the large flowers and leaves, following the trail that was purposely left and bringing you to an opening where a small table and two chairs resided. You then noticed a small indoor pond off to the side, surrounded by an array of different coloured roses. He pulled you into the clearing, the moonlight beating down on your both and causing shadows to fall on Jeno’s perfectly sculpted face. Your breath hitched in your throat when his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your hot cheek and his other hand lacing your fingers together. He smiled softly at you, his eyes memorizing every detail on your face that the moon bestowed upon him.

“You wanted to know what happened next in the story.” He whispered, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip causing your heart to almost skip a beat in anticipation. “I’ll show you.” He gulped as he leaned in, both of your eyes drawing to a close as his cool lips settled timidly on top of yours. You breathed in sharply through your nose, shock sinking into your nervous system as you realised that you were finally kissing your future. Of course you’d felt his lips on your forehead before, but that felt like nothing compared to the feeling of his lips slotted between yours. He drew away, his lips lingering on your own as his thumb started to sweep across your cheek again. You felt your lips automatically pulling into a shy smile, your eyes blinking open with the surprise of seeing his piercing brown eyes gazing at your face. “This is our story…”

---

The wedding came and went faster than you’d wanted it to. The build up to the wedding only days before had felt like they’d dragged. Your wedding dress fitting, seeing how the grand hall was decorated with the most beautiful and expensive décor that the staff of the palace could find, and finally seeing it all come to be. Your parent’s arrival the day before the wedding had you in floods of tears just from how overwhelmed you felt. You had been on deaths door just a month ago, and there you were, watching your parent’s carriage be pulled by horses with fur as black as night into the grounds of the castle the day before your marriage. Jeno had very busy, so you’d only seen him in passing in which he had looked slightly stressed and had barely given you a rushed kiss on your lips. He had to go to the town hall and give a speech in front of the civilians of the Kingdom about his marriage to you and what it meant for the Kingdoms future. You’d been there at his side, dressed up beautiful in his Kingdom’s colours and looking regal and stunning in the glowing sunshine. The snow had melted away, giving you a view of the Kingdom in a different light, but you knew that it would probably be back soon as the weather in the Northern kingdom was unpredictable.

On the day of your wedding you’d been whisked out of bed, hurried through your breakfast, and immediately taken to be dressed. Your hair had been pinned up and had beautiful white snowbell flowers woven into it. Your face had been subjected to a light dusting of makeup to accentuate your naturally stunning features. You felt like a Princess. You also felt sick with nerves, the familiar feeling of anxiety swimming around like a shark inside of your stomach. But you couldn’t let yourself be taken over by the panic, especially as you stared in the full-length mirror at yourself. Your wedding dress had long sleeves, the entirety of the dress having a layer of snow-white lace over the top of it. The body of the dress coming up over your chest and covering the corset you’d been stuffed into, the tightness of it making your anxiety worse as it felt like a constricting snake wrapping itself around your body. The skirt was a typical Princess skirt that would drag across the floor as your walked despite the beautiful white and gold heels you wore. Your lace veil was so long that it dragged along behind you as you walked. On top of your head you wore a heavy, solid gold crown that was fit perfectly for a Princess.

Once you’d arrived at the Kingdom’s church in your beautiful white carriage pulled by white horses, you waved timidly at the crowd of hundreds of civilians waiting outside the church to give you their well wishes. You noted that Jeno wore a similar crown to your own that sat on top his white blond hair when you finally got to see him as your father, the King of the Southern Kingdom, walked you down the aisle. Seeing Jeno stood at the end of the long aisle made your heart flutter. All of the past worries you had washing away like the melted snow as he stood in his white and gold royal uniform, the same one he’d been wearing on the day you’d arrived at the castle. You’d forgotten about how he’d treated you upon your arrival, but you didn’t care as you took a deep breath, your feet carrying you slowly walked down the aisle. Jeno knew he wasn’t supposed to turn around and look at you, but he couldn’t help himself. He turned around and felt his breath hitch in his throat, tears pooling in his eyes when he was how stunning you looked. After you fell ill, he never thought he’d get to see the sight of you looking like an ethereal angel as you walked down the aisle to marry him. So the sight overjoyed him, his heart bursting with the love he’d found within himself for you. He hated himself for how he treated you, especially now that he knew he was head over heels in love with you.

The ceremony flew by, your hands connected and his lips feeling warm on your own after you’d exchanged vows and rings. The gold ring felt heavy on your finger, but not from the physical weight of it, more from the emotional meaning it had. You were tied to Jeno for life now, and it had your heart beating in joy. You caught sight of Prince Jaemin wearing his own royal uniform in the front line of the crowd, his smile so wide that you couldn’t help but smile just as wide as him. Jeno bit his bottom lip, contemplating his next move, but in his head, he thought ‘fuck it’, and he swept you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise and held onto your husband tightly, the bouquet of red roses in your hand falling to the floor from your shock. Carrying you bridal style out of the church made Jeno feel a sense of pride in himself, and he ignored the heavy feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach about what was to come later. You both climbed into the awaiting carriage, Jeno’s lips finding your cheek as soon as the carriage door closed.

“I love you.” He whispered, lacing his hands with yours and causing you to almost combust on the spot. It was the first time he’d uttered those words to you, and it had your eyes filling with tears of happiness and love.

“I love you too.” You whispered back just as gently as he had. The two of you waved at the people who lined the streets of his Kingdom, your Kingdom. It dawned on you that you were no longer the Princess of the Southern Kingdom, and instead, the Princess and future Queen of the Northern Kingdom.

The wedding ceremony was followed by all the guests of the wedding going to the castle to celebrate with a banquet, soon followed by lots of dancing and mingling. You sat by your husbands side the entire time, greeting your guests with a smile and bow. The two of you held each other close when it was time for the two of you to have your first dance as husband and wife. The entire room going silent apart from the echoing music of the large orchestra as you moved around slowly with him. Soon after everyone else was able to join in, and the room was filled with joy of the festivities.

You were ushered away from Jeno by one of the maids and Mark when it hit 11pm and the guests were starting to dwindle. Your stomach hit the floor as you knew exactly what you were being taken away for. Mark’s voice echoed around your head, but you didn’t take in any of his words as he spoke to you about what was about to happen, despite you already knowing exactly how things were about to go down. You were taken to your new bedroom that you were going to be sharing with your new husband. The décor was beautiful, and it was very similar to the bedroom you’d previously had in the castle. You had a feeling Jeno had requested it to be that way to bring you more comfort. Mark excused himself and left you with two maids. They stripped you down from your wedding gown, leaving you in the white, lace lingerie that you’d been told to wear earlier on in the day. The brassiere came down to an inch above your belly button, the wire in the bra pushing your breasts up and making them look very appealing to the eye. It was paired with a matching pair of panties that did nothing to hide your ass. You wore white, thigh high stockings that were clipped onto the white suspender belt wrapped around your waist. They touched up on your makeup, pulled your hair from the pins to let it fall at your shoulders, tousled from being up all day, and finally left you on your own to await Jeno’s arrival.

It was Kingdom tradition to consummate the marriage on the day of the matrimony in order to create an heir. You were very nervous, especially as you had been dolled up to look sexy, which is something you had never had to be before in your entire life. But you supposed if it pleased your Prince, then it was worth it. You waited for Jeno, nervously pacing around the room in your heels before ultimately deciding that you felt uncomfortable and slipped them off, padding around the room in your stockings instead. You bit at your red painted bottom lip, deciding to sit on the bed to wait for your husband. You sat in the centre of the large bed, the silk bedding feeling like clouds on your bare skin as you leaned on one arm. The doorknob turning had your stomach erupting in the butterflies that had chilled out momentarily. Jeno entered the room and quickly closed the door behind him, leaving his hand on the doorknob as he looked at you with a shocked expression. He wasn’t expecting to see you like that, and his cheeks went bright red with heat from his sudden embarrassment. He hated that they’d undressed you like that, having would have preferred to undress you himself from your beautiful wedding dress. You watched him with shy eyes, wanting to cover yourself up from how he was just stood by the door, dead still, with his eyes on you. Eventually his eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. You looked like the epitome of innocence and grace, and he hated it. He hated that he was expected to ruin you in that way by taking your innocence.

“I can’t do this.” He spoke lowly, your stomach falling through the floor at his words. “No I can’t do this.” He shook his head, his eyes moving around the room to look at everything apart from you.

“What do you mean?” Your voice was soft and fragile, mirroring how you felt in that moment.

“This was a mistake!” He shouted at you, his face looking hard, his eyebrows scrunched up and his eyes seemingly darker than what they had been when he entered the room. You flinched, gulping in fright at his sudden outburst. You didn’t think you’d ever seen this Jeno again after how sweetly he’d been treating you since you fell ill. But maybe that was all an act. An act he couldn’t keep up any longer.

“Jeno…” Your eyes filled with tears as you watched him grab the vase of flowers on the dresser beside the door. The vase hit the wall on the other side of the room with a deafening smash, the flowers and shards of porcelain hitting the floor and making you squeal in surprise. He was angry, and he had never learnt how to control his anger. So he did was he always did when he couldn’t cope with his emotions. He acted on them and ended up getting aggressive.

“This was a huge fucking mistake; I don’t love you. How could I love you when I hardly fucking know you? I was forced into this and I can’t do this anymore!” His shouts echoed around the room, causing a sob to fall from your lips at his confession. The vein in his neck was prominent from how hard his shouts were and his strong jaw was tensed. His eyes held so mush hostility you wanted to cower away. “It would have been better if Nayeon had succeeded. Then neither of us would be here.” With that final blow to you, he pulled the door open and stormed out of the room, slamming it shut behind him with a loud thud that felt like it set a crack in your heart. He’d just told you that it would be better if you were dead. And it hurt. Nothing had ever hurt you more in your life than those words he’d just thrown at you on what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life. You sobbed harder than you ever had before, your throat burning and face wet from the tears that tracked down your cheeks. Eventually after you’d calmed down some maids entered the room to clean up and comfort you. But you just ignored their presence, feeling numb and staring at the broken vase across the room. Picturing your heart to be just as shattered as the vase.

---

You hadn’t seen your new husband since he’d ran out on you. It had been five days, but it felt like five months. You felt a longing in your heart, which surprised you because your heart felt so broken and your mind felt so numb. Every member of the palaces staff was either avoiding you, or treating you like you’d break if they spoke in any other way that didn’t sound patronizing. So it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together and figure out that the word had spread about your husband running out on you on your wedding night. Humiliation was a good way of describing how you felt, on top of the sadness and longing, it sat at the edge of your heart, ready to dive off into the pit of your stomach and bring back the butterflies that felt like daggers hitting the walls of your gut. You’d asked Mark where Jeno was, but he just told you that he couldn’t tell you as he was instructed not to. He seemed deeply apologetic though, and you couldn’t blame him for staying loyal to the family he worked for.

The last thing you wanted to do was meet with Prince Jaemin for lunch. But you found yourself being forced to because apparently he wouldn’t take no for an answer and he was prepared to go to extreme lengths to get you smiling again. You soon found out what those extreme lengths were when he let himself into your bedroom with a few maids in tow. The maids were each pushing a metal cart that had steaming hot plates of food you wished you had the appetite to want. Jaemin gave you somewhat of a sad smile, going to the table and chairs inside of your bedroom and pulling a chair out.

“Take a seat Princess.” He nodded down to the chair in his grasp, waiting for you to move from your seat on the bed. You let out a soft sigh, standing up and taking a seat at the table. Jaemin sat opposite you and cleared his throat. “This is probably a silly question, but how are you feeling?” You wanted to laugh at his question, giving him a strained smile as you picked up the mug of hot tea placed in front of you.

“I’ve felt better…have you seen him?” You sipped at the liquid slowly, keeping your eyes on the dark head Prince of the Western Kingdom as he started to pick at his food. He nodded, giving you another sad smile.

“I have. He’s…” He sighed as he thought about what to say, his eyes narrowing as his brain ticked over his words. “Jeno. He’s just Jeno.” The maids left the room as Jaemin dismissed them with a curt wave of his hand.  

“He told me he loved me, then hours later he told me that he never loved me… He also said it would be better if I was dead.” You looked down at your fingertips that were clasping the handle on the mug tightly, trying to will the tears that flooded your eyes away.

“He’s stupid.” Jaemin’s words caused Jeno’s ears to prick up as he stood outside of the door, listening in on your conversation as they door had been left open by the maids when they left. He gripped the bouquet of roses in his hands tighter and his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re such a beautiful woman, and he doesn’t deserve you. You’re kind, he’s not.” You glanced up at Jaemin, feeling like a knife had been twisted in your gut as you listened to Jaemin’s heavy words. “I can only regret that Jeno’s parents beat my own to asking your parents for your hand in marriage.” He let out a sigh, continuing to eat as if he hadn’t just told you that he wished he was your husband and not his own cousin. Jeno felt his blood boiling, and he wanted nothing more than to hit his cousin around the head with the flowers in his grip. But instead he let out a sigh and stomped off, pushing back his plans to apologise to you as he didn’t want Jaemin to hear what he had to say to you.

“Prince Jaemin…I’m a married woman, you shouldn’t be speaking to me like that.” You wanted to sound assertive, but instead your voice was shaky and showed how nervous the conversation was making you.

“I do apologise, I didn’t mean to make you think about what could have been.” He gave you a slanted smile, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You need to eat, you look awful.” This had you letting out a curt laugh, your eyebrows raised as you looked at the cheeky Prince.

“That’s no way to speak to a Princess!”

“I’m just telling you the truth! Please, eat.” Jaemin pushed the bowl of soup in the middle of the table towards you, holding a spoon out for you to take. You let out a gentle sigh and took the spoon, sipping at the warm soup in hopes it shut Jaemin up.

---

Jeno had spent the rest of the day boiling over what he’d heard Jaemin say to you. He paced around his room and had made a complete mess of his normally neat hair from tugging at it in frustration. The sun had long gone down and he groaned as he laid on his bed staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression. He had yet to prepare for sleep, still wearing the loose white shirt tucked into his tight dress trousers. His mind wondered to thoughts of you. He heart was breaking just as much as yours was. He hated himself for the things he’d said to you, and the reasons why he said them to you. The Prince could no longer bare it and came to the decision to put an end to his distress.

He pushed himself up from the bed and didn’t think much of it as he left his room. He let his legs carry him across the castle to where you had been staying in what was supposed to be your shared bedroom. Without even thinking to do the polite thing by knocking on the door, he swung open the bedroom door, his words caught in his throat as he saw you sat by the large window, staring out at the moonlit night wearing a silk robe, your bare legs stretched out on the floor in front of you. You turned to see who had just rudely let themselves into your bedroom and your breath hitched at your eyes fell on your husband, stood with his lips parted and his hand still gripping the door handle as he stared at you. He pushed the door closed and took a few steps into the room, not really knowing what he was expecting your reaction to be. But he knew for sure he wasn’t expecting the reaction he got.

You stood up, pulling the robe tighter over your pyjama clad body, the cotton tank top and shorts not doing much to hide your body, but you weren’t expecting anyone to burst into your room unannounced. Without a word you walked up to the blond Prince stood in the middle of the room, his eyes trained on you as you moved. Your palm hitting his cheek let out a slapping sound echo off the walls, his mouth popping open as his head snapped to the side from the surprising strength you had put into the attack. He was shocked, he had no idea the meek, timid, placid Princess who he’d grown to love had it in her to lay her hands on her husband like that. But he found a fire burning inside of his stomach that made him love you more for doing that.

“Are you proud of yourself?” He slowly turned his head to see the fire behind your teary eyes. A fire that looked like it was about to be put out by the water begging to fall from the waterline of your eyes. “You made me think you loved me, and then on our wedding night you told me you wished I was dead. Now I have to be married to someone who doesn’t love me and be in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life!” He looked down at his feet, letting out a short sigh and trying to ignore how pained your voice was. “Get out.” You turned to walk back to the window, wanting to watch the falling snow in the moonlight in hopes it would calm down your racing heart. You were stopped by a strong grip on your wrist that pulled you against a firm chest, your free hand coming up to land against it in your surprise. The hand on your wrist loosened and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your body, keeping you pressed to Jeno’s torso. The feel of his grip and his familiar scent is everything you’d been dreaming about for the five days that you’d been apart from him. It was almost overwhelming being so close to him, the tears finally breaking past their barrier and streaming down your face as your heart felt like it was slowly mending itself. He pulled his arms away from your waist and moved them to cup your face in both of his hands. Tilting your head up so that your gazes were locked, he poked his tongue out to wet his lips as he took a deep breath.

“I love you so much that it physically pains me to watch the tears as they fall from your bewitching eyes. Being away from you for the past five days knowing how my words would have affected you made me want to throw myself from the tallest tower to my own demise because I knew how hard it would be to coax you into trusting me again. After the wedding, my father took me aside and reminded me of my duty as a Prince, and that I was expected to produce an heir. So that was swimming around in my head like a poison fusing with water and turning all my thoughts damaging. When I opened the door to see you poised like an angel with no wings, I felt like I was doing the world a disservice by tainting your innocence and I don’t know where my mind took me but it was an unpleasant place that left a bitter taste in my mouth and a tear in your heart.” Your eyes glistened with tears as Jeno never once glanced away during the poetic words he spilled to you. He sounded like the Prince in the book that he was reading to you in the library on the night of your first kiss. “I would never wish you dead, nor would I want to ever live in a world that you didn’t exist in. I love you, and I can spend the rest of my life telling you so and apologising if I have to. If it means that you will love me the way you did before I let my mouth talk without my hearts consent. Forgive me Princess.” He stared into your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity leading you to know that he meant the words he spoke.

“I forgive you.” You whispered, letting out a soft sigh as you gazed as his facial features, falling more in love with him as your mind went over his speech.

“Thank you, from this moment on, I will be the husband that you deserve.” He leaned in and placed his lips to your own, the kiss being soft and long as his arms moved from your cheeks to your hips. You moved one of your hands to his jaw and the other to his shoulder, feeling lost in the kiss as he slowly moved his lips against yours. This was everything you’d been dreaming about since your wedding night, and you couldn’t describe the joy and relief you felt at finally having your husband by your side. He licked at your bottom lip, pushing his tongue past your lips when you gave him entrance and letting it explore your mouth as he slowly backed you up to your now shared bed. You’d finally get to share the too big bed with the man you love instead of sleeping alone. That thought alone send sparks across your body that gave you a tingling warm feeling you’d never experienced before.

He moved his lips to your jaw, placing tender kisses to your warm skin before trailing them down your neck. He sucked gentle bruises on your neck as quiet mewls and gasps left your parted lips. His hands tugged at the silk tie of your robe and let the silk slide open. He pushed it from your body and let it fall to the floor, leaving you scantily clad in your pyjamas. His hands scaled up and down your sides as his fingertips got used to the feeling of your body, the silk bunching up as he let his hands wonder underneath your pyjama top. Pulling away from your neck, he gently lifted you onto the bed, crawling over the top of you and diving back in to kiss your lips with vigour. His hands framed your head, holding his body up as his tongue trailed your bottom lip. His body rested against yours, slotted between your legs with his crotch pressed to your own.

You knew the basics of sex. You’d been taught by a very red-faced Mark a few days before your wedding and he’d assured you that Jeno had also received the same embarrassing talk. But you still felt a bundle of nerves wind itself up inside of your stomach and the thought of having the Prince on top of you without any clothes on. But at the same time, you felt a spark of excitement travel to your core that you’d only ever felt before when you’d gotten curious and let your fingers wonder. All the orgasms you’d had were self-inflicted by the use of rubbing your clit late in the night when there was no one around to hear your quiet whimpers. So the feel of Jeno hardening against you through his clothes and your thin pyjamas was causing that familiar feeling to build, spurring you on to want more.

You turned your head and let his lips kiss at your cheek leaving faint marks of spit against your warm skin as his tongue darted out to taste you. Your chest was rising and falling fast as you tried to catch your breath, Jeno’s lips never stopped as you opened your mouth and spoke. “Have you ever…?” You felt your cheeks flare up as you blurted out the question, unable to finish it and hoping he would catch your drift. He paused and his silence piqued your curiosity, so you turned your head to look up at him. His mouth was parted, and his eyebrows were furrowed, almost as if he was annoyed at your question, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind.

“No of course I’ve never had sex…have you?” His eyes widened slightly, and he pulled back slightly. You had a feeling if your answer was yes then he was going to cause a scene that would wake up everyone in the castle. It was expected of a Prince or Princess to stay a virgin until their marriage to another Prince or Princess. So you would feel the same way if you found out that Jeno wasn’t a virgin, and you could understand why he had pulled such an annoyed face now you knew he thought you were asking about having sex.

“No! Oh no I didn’t mean, er…I didn’t mean that. I meant have you ever…touched yourself?” Your cheeks were boiling as your embarrassment set in, your voice almost a whisper as you asked him. Jeno visibly relaxed and a small smirk arose on his face.

“Yes, I have. Have you?” He lowered his head and laid gentle kisses to your neck that left a heavy feeling in your stomach. “Have you been a dirty girl and used your fingers to do the job your Prince should be doing?” His voice dropped an octave and your stomach fluttered as his lewd words, your hips bucking up into his as you wished for him to copy what you did late into the night. “Do you want me to do the same to you?” His fingertips trailed down your side, sending shivers up your spine and a small whine to leave your chest.

“Yes.” You whispered breathlessly as he sat back on his knees, staring down at you like a predator staring at its prey. He smirked; his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tugged your pyjama shorts down your legs slowly. You suddenly felt shy, automatically closing your legs to block his view of your heat but he gripped at your knees and forced them apart.

“Be a good girl.” He gazed down at your glistening pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes darkened. He tried to push down his own nerves, wanting you to think he was confident even though you knew he’d never seen a vagina before. He paused, taking a deep breath as he trailed a tentative finger over your folds from your clit to your dripping hole. “Wow…” He breathed out, shuffling back on the bed and laying so that he was at the right angle to lean out and lick at your centre with his slow tongue. You let your head fall back against the pillow as his tongue flicked up and down slowly, circling your clit and forcing a loud moan to erupt from your lips. Your moan provoked him to take your clit between his lips and suck on it softly, his finger trailing down to your waiting entrance. He slid it in very hesitantly, remembering the words Mark said about it being very painful for a woman if they aren’t prepped properly.

“Jeno…” You whined and lifted your head to watch him as he started to devour your pussy, his enthusiasm making you almost see stars as your toes curled and back arched, the ball of pleasure in the pit of stomach flaring up as if it was going to explode at any moment. “Oh!” You squeaked, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from screaming as he brought you to the edge that you’d sat on many times before from your own doing. Only this time it felt a hundred times better. He stopped abruptly, removing his mouth and stopping his finger. As he pulled his face back you noticed his lips and chin glistening with your juices, causing your stomach to do a flip at obscene sight.  

“I want you to finish on my cock baby girl.” His words almost shoved you over the edge, but you nodded and gulped down the saliva that had built in your mouth as you watched him. You nodded eagerly and licked your lips, gasping slightly as he pushed another finger inside of you. The slight stretch made you wince at first, but after a minute of him pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly the pain dulled, and you could feel the pleasure pouring through.

He pulled his fingers out and sat up again, popping open the three buttons at the top of his shirt before pulling the loose shirt over his head. You propped yourself up on your elbows, staring at his defined body with hearts in your eyes. His blond hair was fluffy from the friction of pulling his shirt over his head and you wanted nothing more than to tangle your hands in the light strands and trail your tongue down his chest. He threw the shirt to the floor and paused as he took the button of his trousers between his fingers and thumbs. He visibly gulped and looked up at you with hooded eyes. You could see that all his confidence had flown out of the window as he stared at you. You smiled softly, sitting yourself up and pulling your own top off, throwing it to the floor with his and leaving you completely naked in front of him. His eyes went wider than you’d ever seen as his sight dropped from your face to rest on your breasts.

“Shit.” He gulped again, his mouth almost watering at the sight of your chest. It was the first time he’d ever seen a pair of boobs in the flesh from what he could remember, and he wasn’t disappointed. He hurried to pop open the buttons on his trousers and he discarded of them, leaving him completely naked. You didn’t get much of a chance to look at his penis as he hurried to lay over you, taking on of your nipples into his mouth and cupping your other breast with his big hand. You wrapped your legs around his waist and could feel his hard cock brushing against your core, making you want more.

“Jeno, I want you now.” You whispered, his eyes glancing up to look you in the eyes as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bud.

“Hang on.” He mumbled against it, taking it between his lips once again and sucking hard. You giggled softly, reaching up and running a hand through his hair and pushing it away from his forehead.

“You like that don’t you?” You bit at your bottom lip as you watched his lips suckle on your nipple. He closed his eyes and nodded, pulling his lips back and letting your nipple go with a pop.

“Are you ready?” He moved a hand down sitting back slightly and taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times. You finally got to see it, your eyes zoning in on the large member he held tightly in his hand. You’d never seen a man’s privates parts either so you had nothing to compare it to, but it definitely didn’t look small, and had a vein running up the underside, the head a pink colour with a milky bead of pre-cum leaking out from the top.

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, settling your head against the pillow and trying to relax. He smiled softly at you, leaning over you and placing a tender and lingering kiss to your lips as he started to push his cock into you. You gasped, the pain a lot worse than the pain you’d felt from his fingers. Your back arched and tears pooled in your eyes as you tried to cope with the pain, not wanting him to stop as this was the most intimate you’d ever been with anyone, and it being your husband that you loved with all your heart meaning you’d be crushed if he stopped. He went slowly, pulling out a few times only to push in again in an attempt to fit inside of you better. He stopped once he was fully inside of you, laying kisses on your cheek and stroking your side affectionately to calm you down.

“Tell me if it gets too much Princess.” He spoke quietly into your ear, pulling his hips back and rolling them into you again. He was laying over you so that his forearms were pressed to the pillow on either side of your head, wanting to be as close to you as he could be but still so he could control the situation. He repeated this slowly, letting his head drop into the crook of your neck as his eyes squeezed shut from the immense pleasure shooting up his cock into the pit of his stomach at how tightly your walls were sucking him in. It took at least a minute of Jeno pushing his cock in and out of you for you to feel the pleasure that you’d felt when he’d used his fingers. The pain died down and you focused more on how his strong figure loomed over you, his breath panting against your neck and the sound of skin slapping against skin as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” His voice was deep and gruff, but the words held so much meaning to you that you let out a loud moan, gripping at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as your nails dragged across it.

“I love you too.” You whimpered, your back arching and thighs starting to shake as euphoria fluttered down onto you like the snow that fell from the sky outside of the window. His thrusts got faster, and he let out little grunts and moans, his tongue darting out to lick at your neck before his teeth bit your skin, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. Your senses felt heightened and you felt like sobbing as the burning in your stomach roared like a fire about to explode. You couldn’t hold on any longer, and as Jeno’s lips met your own in a sloppy kiss, the ball of fire in your stomach finally burst and sent the best feeling you’d ever felt across your system. The orgasm Jeno gave you felt so much better than any you’d been able to bring upon yourself, and you felt yourself wanting to cling onto the man above you as he continued to make love to you.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, his eyes tightly shut as his rhythm faltered and he tensed up. His biceps on either side of your head became more defined as he tensed, his hips slamming into you one final time as he came inside of you, his hot seed spilling into your velvety walls. He lifted his head up and slowly opened his eyes, gazing at you with half open eyes. He let out a dazed smile, his hips rolling into yours a few times as he rode out his orgasm. He leaned in and laid his lips on yours, kissing you sweetly and full of love before attempting to pull back from you. You whined and gripped at his body, shaking your head as non-verbal sign that you didn’t want him to get up yet. He let out a soft chuckle and wrapped his arms around your body, rolling you both over so that you were laying on top of him. You laid your head against his chest and let out a sleepy slightly smile.  “Thank you.” His chest vibrated against your head and you looked up at him, stroking at his skin with your fingernails as you raised an eyebrow.

“What for?” You asked, pressing your ear to his chest once more to listen to his heart as it started to beat slower.

“For being such a forgiving, and loving person. What I did was inexcusable, and you had every right to ignore me and tell me to back off. But you didn’t and I am so thankful for that, because I love you, and I’ll love you until my dying breath.” His words tugged at your heartstrings and made you feel a sense of elation. It helped that you were basking in the bliss of sex and his cock was still tucked inside of you, so you hadn’t yet felt the soreness you were sure to feel.

“You’re my Prince,” You pressed a kiss to his chest and smiled at him. “And I am your Princess. I wouldn’t change that for the world.” His arms wound around your body tighter and he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was quiet for a few minutes before his voice broke the silence.

“Can we do that again? Now?”

“Jeno!” You gasped, using your hands to push up on his chest to give him an amused, but shocked expression. “…Okay!”

---

The castle felt like a much happier place to you now that you could walk around without worrying about whether you’d end up pissing off the angry Prince if you came across him. Instead you now walked around actively trying to find him, wanting to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. The first night you’d spent together those five months ago had been the kickstart to the happy ever after that you’d read about in the books. And ever since that night, Jeno had stuck to his words and had been the best husband you could have asked for. When he wasn’t doing his Prince duties, he was by your side. Keeping you company, reading to you, trying his best to bed you, or talking to the ever-growing bump you had that held the future Prince or Princess of the Northern Kingdom. It didn’t come to a surprise to either of you when you’d found out about your pregnancy a month after you consummated your marriage. And the King and Queen were thrilled once you announced it to the Kingdom. The Queen had been spending a lot more time with you too, ecstatic that her son had finally seen the light and started his life with you. You had exchanged a few letters with your own parents, and they were happy for you and promised to visit you soon. Prince Jaemin had given you a wide smile and a friendly hug, before turning away and letting his face fall at the news of your pregnancy. He couldn’t ignore the thudding in his heart as it longed for you, but he had to pretend everything was fine and that he was happy for his cousin and yourself. You hadn’t heard anything about Nayeon, but you wished her well and decided to let go of all the negative feelings you felt towards her, giving her your forgiveness despite her attempted murder.

“Will you read to our little Prince or Princess when they’re born?” You sat in the library, opposite your husband at the table in front of the large window, watching the snow as it calmly settled on the ground of the Kingdom. Jeno looked up from the book in his hands and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course I will.” He laid the book down on the table and followed your gaze out of the window.

“They’ll love the fairy-tale books, especially the one about the brooding Prince who fell in love with the kind Princess.” Your smile widened as you talked about the book he’d read to you on the night of your first kiss. You turned to look at him and let out a soft chuckle, licking his bottom lip.

“Yes, it sounds rather familiar doesn’t it?” He tone was teasing, and he glanced out of the window again before letting his eyes fall on your prominent baby bump.

“How did the story end again?” You rested a hand on your bump as Jeno stood up. He helped you to your feet and stood in front of the glass with you, looking out at the Kingdom from the high window as he wound his arms around your frame. You placed your hands on his chest and gazed up at him, a soft smile playing on both of yours lips.

“They lived happily ever after.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his own, pouring all the love and affection into the exchange. Thanking you in his mind for how you took his cold heart and heated it with your own love. 

----

Hey, it’s finally out! This took me over a month to write and it’s brought me stress, joy, and finally a sense of achievement at writing something 20k words long. I would appreciate it dearly if you took a moment to tell me your thoughts and feelings about this piece. I’d love some feedback! I hope you enjoyed it x

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