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Snow White AU! Part Four

The Puppet

After what seemed like hours of on and off running through the tunnel, saying you were drained would be an understatement. Your index and middle finger shifted up to rest on the side of your head where dull throbbing had set in a while ago, pressing against the supple skin as you silently pleaded for it to stop. You could really, honestly, genuinely do without the waves of pain shooting up through your feet and legs, or without the large surface scratches left on your shins from the undergrowth poking out of the tunnel walls. Physically you weren’t doing so great, but mentally you were even worse. Although unintentionally, you kept running the memory of Lydia’s death through your head on loop; your stomach turned from the repetitive horror of it.

An intense ire stirred deep in your chest as you rubbed the side of your head and a sharp grunt slipped from your lips. You didn’t know how, but Rika killed Lydia - the one person you could remember who had given you sympathy throughout the time you were locked away. Rika had taken another life. Who knew how many she had taken by this point? Your lips curved downward in a frown of rage, but despite that your eyes began to well up with tears for what was probably the fifth time. She was slaughtering your people; innocent people, innocent children. After all, Lydia had barely been fourteen years of age, the poor thing. Her mother was most likely being told of ‘an accident’ the girl had during work that had left her daughter maimed beyond recognizability. Alternatively, perhaps Rika would tell her that Lydia had rebelled and gotten killed by a nameless guard for her behavior. A furious scowl spread across your features. Exactly how much blood did Rika have on her hands?

Too much was the only answer that came to mind.

You only shook out of your thoughts as you noticed a ray of light brightening up the tunnel ahead. Before you even fully had a chance to process it, you were racing forward to stand underneath a gaping hole and stare up to try to figure out where you were. Your father had never told you much about the tunnel much less where it lead.

Crawling out of the hole was a bit of a struggle, but you managed after a few failed attempts. You collapsed onto the soft ground beside it, panting heavily from your trek. The grass was much more vibrant than you recalled, and you had certainly forgotten just how many individual leaves would sway on the trees as a breeze tumbled through them. The fresh, earthy smell was probably what you had missed the most about being outside; it was unspeakably better than the stuffy yet sharply cool air of the cell you had been held in.

Lydia has given this back to you; even if you died tomorrow, you would always owe her everything for that.


“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

The voice wasn’t familiar to you, but it was comfortingly light and cheerful as if speaking to a lifelong friend. You peeked open your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the overhead light. Overhead light? It took you a few seconds to recall where you were and why, and a few more to comprehend that there was a silhouette standing over you. The sun created a halo-like effect around the figure’s head.

“Hey! You’re awake!” The person stood and you winced at the direct light on your face, but as your sight adjusted you could see the silhouette was a redhead with odd glasses and hunter’s gear. A wide grin sat on the stranger’s face as he rested his hands on his hips, “Ya know, the ground’s not the best place for a nap. Especially in these woods, haha!”

A groan slipped from your lips and you sat up a little too quickly. Your head spun as nausea flooded over you in an abrupt wave. That’s right, the last meal you had was about this time the day before. One of your hands quickly moved to rest over your stomach instinctively. The stranger’s eyebrows furrowed in concert and the edge of his mouth turned downwards in a frown.

Before the redhead could speak, a second much rougher voice piped in, “We don’t have time for this, Luciel. Leave them and let’s go, we’re on a mission.” Your eyes trailed over to see a tall, rather built brunette man glowering at you. He stood with one hand grasping the sheath on his hip and the other hovering over the sword hilt tensely.

“Calm down, Mary. The mission can wait a few minutes,” The redhead, presumably Luciel, crouched next to you, “You okay? You’re really pale.” You turned your gaze to meet the piercing amber eyes behind the odd glasses. It was odd to see such a striking color - they felt familiar, somehow. You didn’t know why, but a sense of sorrow struck your chest.

You managed to get out, “I’m fine, I’m fine… just really hungry. Now, where exactly are we?” The hunter raised an eyebrow at you, pushing his glasses up his nose. Mary, as Luciel called him, narrowed his eyes further. Why were they so on guard? After all, you were unarmed and dressed in sleepwear - ah. No wonder they found you odd.

Abruptly, Luciel lightly laughed, “Talk about waking up on the wrong side of bed, eh? We’re a little ways past the northern border of Araminta.” He glimpsed over to the gaping hole that dropped into the tunnel, then back to you. “Was there an attack or something? These tunnels haven’t been used since before the king died.” His hand shifted to a pack on his waist and he pulled out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in half, holding one piece out to you.

“No, no, nothing like that, I think…” You gratefully took the food and sank your teeth into it hungrily. Luciel sat cross-legged beside you as you scarfed it down, eyeing you with a look of conflicting amusement and worry. The bread was fresh. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you hadn’t had to cut mold off of your bread. It wasn’t long before you tossed the last piece into your mouth and let out a soft breath of relief. At least now you knew you’d get through another day. Probably.

He took a leather flask from his pack and twisted off the lid, offering it to you as he asked, “Are you an escaped prisoner? Damn, kudos to you! I’ve heard Rika’s castle is impossible to escape.”

You opened your mouth to respond; however, your mouth went dry and you closed it again. Technically he was right, but putting it like that made it sound like you were a criminal. Wait, were you a criminal? You did escape directly against Rika’s orders…

“Uh… maybe?” The uncertain words felt heavy as they slipped off your tongue. You silently accepted the flash to down a couple gulps and hand it back. You hadn’t quite fully comprehended that you were wanted until that moment. How long had you been asleep? Surely guards weren’t far behind if Rika knew about the tunnels.

Luciel tilted his head with an exaggerated pout, “You can tell us. I don’t give a shit about royalty - except for Prince Jumin’s cat Elly. She is my bride-to-be!” He pulled an obviously fake ring out of one of the coin pouches on a strap over his chest and slipped it into his left hand, holding it out dramatically. “See? We’re engaged~” You couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at his joke. At least, you hoped he was joking. In these kingdoms, you never know for sure.

“Luciel, seriously. We need to go,” Mary reminded grimly, his lip curling up a little as he glanced around warily, “It’s not safe here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luciel dismissively waved off Mary over his shoulder, “Come with us, if you want to. It’s dangerous to be out here alone.” What choice did you have? You had no idea where you were, and going in the wrong direction meant certain death and letting Lydia’s sacrifice be in vain.

Mary gaped for a few seconds before butting in, “There’s no way they’re coming with us. Absolutely not.” The huntsman finally glanced over his shoulder, a smirk forming across his face.

They had a stare off for a few seconds before Luciel spoke, “Just until they find a safe place! We can’t just leave them here alone.” Mary stayed quiet, glaring daggers at Luciel until the silence was taken as a reluctant agreement and the friendlier of the two turned back to you. “So how ‘bout it?”

You nodded slowly, hesitantly, “Alright.” Luciel’s expression lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. He offered his hand to you to help him up, unintentionally showing off the callouses scattered across his palm. Your hand automatically moved up to accept his help and he pulled you to your feet.

“So, what’s your name? How’d you end up here?” Luciel put the ring away as he nodded to Mary and they both started walking.

You started to respond only to have someone new speak over you, “Shit! Why the hell are you here!?” The new person’s voice sounded completely eerie, as if three or four voices were speaking at once. It was practically impossible to tell which voice was actually his; it was haunting. You froze, a shudder curling up your spine before you finally glanced back.

A man wearing a mask that covered his nose and mouth stood next to the tunnel entrance, toying with a knife in his hands. His nose wrinkled in what seemed to be anger, fury even. You felt you were supposed to recognize him. He felt so familiar, yet so foreign. You couldn’t recall anyone you had previously met who had white hair with pink tips before, so it must just be deja vu.

“Ah! Another hunter, except you work for Rika. You must be the one I’ve heard about all these years, right?” Luciel lightly yet firmly questioned, half stepping in front of you. You couldn’t see him do so, but you could hear Mary draw his sword.

The masked man’s grip on his knife tightened and he dropped his other hand to his side. He stared at the blade for a minute, seeming to completely ignore Luciel. A bluish liquid suddenly seemed to lightly ooze out the sides of the knife and trickle down the blade.

“Even now all you do is ruin my life,” The stranger hissed.

You blinked in confusion, “Huh? What?”

The man scoffed and closed his eyes for a minute, “Not you, MC. Him.” He gestured to Luciel with the knife. The redheaded hunter froze for a few seconds as he tried to process. You didn’t even really have much time to question how this man knew your name.

“Wait, you know me?” Luciel mumbled questioningly, his tone dropping from somewhat casual to completely grim. A laugh rose from the stranger’s throat as he lifted his index to run along the edge of his cloth mask.

Mary gave a long, annoyed sigh and grumbled, “Luciel, what the fuck did you do this time? Who did you piss off?”

“You know exactly what you did. Is Luciel the name you go by now?” The man pulled down his mask to reveal the rest of his face, including the empty smirk on his lips.

You could see Luciel’s eyes widen a little as he started to put the pieces together, “Wait-”

“Took you long enough. Now, enough of you. MC,” The man looked up with hollow yet piercing mint eyes and spoke in a low growl, “I missed you.

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I thought of an interesting idea for a senario :0 what if MC, when told by the RFA that she should stay at the apartment, she suggests she can use it like an office instead? (and/or MC feeling uncomfortable living in their dead friend’s apartment. Depending on if you think they’d prefer her live in the apartment or not)

Hey, Nonnie! So sorry it took so long to get to your request. I have been soooo behind with my Askbox, so thank you for your patience! Hope you enjoy!!


Rika’s apartment didn’t bother you at first, but after spending nearly two weeks living there, dealing with a stalker, let alone a bomb, you’ve become more than uneasy in the space. There’s something about the air that sets the hairs at the back of your neck on edge and sends shivers down your spine. You knew you were just seeing things, but after dark, you felt like Rika’s spirit was watching you.

Shaking your head, you push those thoughts away and turn back to your laptop. You knew you’re just hearing things. It’s your imagination, but still. After everything that’s happened, you don’t feel like Rika’s apartment was the best place to live. You already had plans to make it into an office space and had already looked into another home nearby.

A clicking noise comes from the front door of the apartment. It doesn’t take you long to jump to the worst possible conclusion, that it’s either a ghost pranking you or someone trying to break in. 

“Not ghosts,” you mumble to yourself, getting up from your sofa to grab the nearest heavy object: the small yet heavy statue on the desk. 

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Hi dear! Could a request some fluff with Jumin Han? Existence is being overwhelming right now (Anxiety and sensory overload) and I really would love to retreat from the world. Jumin's side feels like a great place to hide from everything.

I love this prompt!! Sorry for taking so long to get it written, and thank you everyone for your patience! Work has been super busy lately, and I’ve been sick. Barely had time to write, but never fear, I am slowly working through my Askbox! Hope you enjoy, my loves!


It’s past four in the morning, and you’re lying awake, insomnia taking hold once again. No matter how much you toss and turn, you just can’t seem to fall asleep. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the stress of your job. Maybe it’s the fact that your boyfriend Jumin is several thousand miles away on another long business trip.

You pick up your phone and dial his number, praying and hoping that he hasn’t gone to sleep yet. He picks up after a few rings. “MC? Why are you up at this hour?”

You smile, glad to hear his soothingly deep voice in your ear. “Can’t sleep.”

You hear a door close on the other line, then Jumin speaks again. “You’re in luck, my darling, I just finished for the day.”

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything in America.”

He chuckles, “Not at all. Please, don’t make me socialize with Elon after hours. That man is a handful.”

You give a soft chuckle, pulling the blankets tightly around you to keep warm. “Tell me about your day?”

Jumin lets out a soft sigh, almost as if he collapsed on his bed. “Well, the Americans were very happy to tell me I’ve been overdressing the entire trip.”

You try to hold in a laugh. “What on earth does that mean?”

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Hehe 💞 I love this one

FINALLY uploading this, and I love the turnout. I was inspired by the Ten Count bunny figures recently, and really wanted to draw Jumin in something like that, but in the end, this drawing was more of male anatomy practice because lord knows I need it 😂 but I think it came out pretty nice. Hope you guys like it ^^



🚫No reposting or using my work🚫

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After the RFA party, which was a resounding success and garnered many new interested guests, MC now had a wedding to plan. As she looked to her left hand and the ring that now sparkled at her, she felt giddy and nervous.

Jumin insisted she plan for her fairy tale wedding. “Whatever you want, princess.” Still, MC, having come from humble beginnings, was satisfied with something a bit more modest. Jumin supported any decision she made, as long as it was what she wanted.

As the next few months went by, the details were all coming together and MC was starting to relax about the wedding. She sat on the floor in the penthouse, plans spread out around her as she worked on selecting flower arrangements. She thoughtfully tapped her chin, the jasmine one was beautiful, as were the lilacs…

Her concentration was broken by the phone ringing. The landline was not used often, and was usually just a telemarketer or wrong number, so she let it go to the answering machine.


“Mr. Han, I have the prenuptial agreement that your lawyer asked us to draw up. That being said, we have been trying to get in contact with you to review it. Your lawyer insists you take a look….”

MC stopped and looked at the phone. A prenup…? She hadn’t even considered that. Her heart sank a little. She should have, of course. He was a very important man with a lot of wealth. It made that they should protect that. It pricked her heart to imagine ever needing to protect his assets, from her. After all, she didn’t care about his money. She really tried not to use it. But he would never let her pay.

Flower arrangements forgotten, she got up and walked to the intercom. “Could you have Driver Kim get the car ready? I need to get some air…”


The past several months had been simultaneously the best and most painstakingly slow of his life. MC moved out of the apartment and into the penthouse. This would normally be something Jumin was against, but he was too worried for her safety. And he simply could not resist having her near him at all times.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, a smile spread across his face, knowing he was moments away from his fiancee. He opened the door and deposited his jacket. “MC, I’m home,” he called. Elizabeth the 3rd gently rubbed against his ankles. He stopped at the counter, where the red light flashed at him on the answering machine, and a note.

“Honey, I went to get some fresh air, please don’t fret. There was a call for you earlier. All my love, MC”

Nothing in the words were inherently negative, but the note seemed…off. He pressed the button on the machine and listened to the message.


He didn’t listen to the rest of it before he was already headed back out the door.

He knew where she would be. It had become a favorite spot of hers after he first brought her to his private garden. She said it was like a little paradise, where she could escape the city. He loved that they shared it together. As he entered the gate, he could see her sitting on the swing, slowly shifting back and forth.

He quietly approached her and she looked up at him. She smiled but her eyes were sad. “Hello, love” she said, “did you get your message? ”

He knelt before her and looked up at her. “Yes, and I came here immediately after. I needed to talk to you.”

She looked away. “I see.”

Jumin gently took her hands in his. “I didn’t ask anyone to draw up any kind of agreement.”

She stopped shifting in the swing and met his gaze again. “ didn’t? ”

“No, my love. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. And it certainly doesn’t make any sense to draw one up, because that is an agreement should the marriage fail.” He said, pausing to look intently at her. “This will not fail. I am yours, and you are mine. There is no need for a contingency plan.”

She wiped her eyes. “So you don’t think it would be best for us to sign one… I just don’t want anyone to think that I want your money…”

He pulled her out of the swing and into his arms. “No, no, there’s no need. Anyone that matters knows that you aren’t after anything and I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks.”

Jumin nuzzled into her neck affectionately until she smiled. “Now let’s go home, I saw you were in the middle of selecting our floral arrangements. We can discuss it over dinner.”

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requested: bien sûr

a/n: SON TEMPS BISEXUEL, MES AMIS 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈 obtenir vos drapeaux et vos partenaires!!! celui-ci pour la personne qui a préféré les headcanons hehe

warnings: non

-le plus agité bisexuel, modérateur alex



-Jumin Han did n o t enjoy parties that exceeded 70 decibels, and he found that the whole act of Pride was… too much for him as a whole

-which is why him and his boyfriend celebrated away from the glamour of pride, watching the parade and festivities unfold from a nearby cafe, just close enough to be a part of the atmosphere without being, as Jumin said, “run over” 

-however when the music starts… he can’t help but look over with a childlike wonder, curious by the happenings

-due to not wanting to attract attention from the media, his boyfriend buys him a lovely gay masquerade mask, and he Adores it (he’s literally Never going to throw it away)

-it takes a few cups of wine, but soon he’s sluggishly dancing with the rest of them, clinging onto his boyfriends shoulders as they sway in peace to music who’s tempo is Way too Fast

-near the end of the night he finally takes off the mask, kissing his man with an (albeit buzzed) joy, burying his face in the others neck as he smiled, and for the first time in a while he’s peaceful with where he is in life


-she was always a sucker for pride, sporting her bisexual flag proudly around her shoulders like a shawl, holding onto her wife’s hand with an unrelenting joy that could only come from being around other members of the LGBTQ community

-feeling like she could kiss the love of her life without caring what onlookers thought? the best feeling in the world.

-she doesn’t care much about the actual concerts and gigs going on, her focus on her w I FE and getting to meet and socialize with other gays, pride in knowing she had overcome everything in her life to get to a point where internalized biphobia was neatly cut out of her life

-she has ALL the protest signs, parching in the parade with a few other LGBTQ business friends as her voice intertwines with the shouts of thousands of gays

-holding h a nd  s with her wife, the bisexual colours in her makeup sparkling under the hot summer sun, the beauty only comparable with that of her dazzling smile



-b a be y

-he wants to do e every t hi ng and See everything, so his poor boyfriend gets around 5 seconds max to drink everything in before he’s being dragged by yoosung towards something else

-r e a l l y wants faceprint but he flinches at the cold of the sponge whenever it hits his cheek, so he’s left with ¼ of a bi flag

-giggly, jumping up and down at the sight of people there being like him, people who made him feel less alone

-shyly kissing his boyfriend, not used to being able to do it in public without fear and the feeling of impending doom

-this boy gets d o w n to the Gay Bops, not a care in the world as he boogies, even though hes Completely making a fool of himself, he couldn’t care less. he was safe here.

-he’s not as loud as some of the other marchers, yet his voice can still be heard in the clamor

-doesn’t make it through the whole night, falling asleep at half past midnight on his love’s shoulder, them having found a place to sit and enjoy some pretzels 

-does this mean napping in an empty field together until he wakes up? maybe??


-oh he  r a g i n 

-dresses up in the highest heeled boots he could find, face half done in drag makeup with an expert hand, looking glamorous and confident as he strolls in like he owns the place

-or,,,,,,,,,,,,, alternative outfit: 


Originally posted by oli-the-penguin

-he’s the one naruto running in out and around the other pride-goers screeching “bakugo said gay rights”

-he bought. all. the pride flags. all.

-if he’s feeling spicey he’ll bring his car out to the parade and find a way to drive… his car… IN the parade… preferably next to janelle monàe 

-this man loses his voice within the first three hours of pride, sounding like a croaky old woman the rest of the time

-yoinks his partner up onto his back, grinning stupidly in joy as he feels his s/o’s smile against the crook of his neck


-roasts the homophobes, proceeding to hug as many gays as he could to “spread the joy homophobes took away”

-he is everyones father


-he goes into pride not thinking much, regular grey shirt and jeans thrown on, mainly there because his boyfriend had wanted to go, but all it takes is one whiff of the party atmosphere and he’s turned into Ultra Gay, carrying his smol boyfriend in his arms as they march together


-gets beyond excited when it comes to face paint, spending almost an hour there hanging out with the face paintin gays

-Zen is protector of the lesbians you CANT change my mind, just him, Chris Hemsworth, and Daniel Howell in a Lesbian Protection Squad.  

-Will Square up with Anyone that tries to throws slurs at the crowd, having to be dragged away by Jaehee (who is also having a hard time not throwing hands)

-loves everything about pride, from the people, to the atmosphere, to the vibrant colors of the LGBTQ community, even the shady looking hot dogs they sell 

-his gay fans are THrIVING, forming a small army walking down the boulevard chanting the song of the gays

-the type to get drop dead drunk after pride, having to be dragged to the Uber by his boyfriend, Zen pouting as he vainly tries to kiss his boyfriends face the whole ride home, slurred voice getting whinier every second he gets cuddles withheld from him.

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Por fin me anime a terminar este dibujo xd

Mystic Messenger y Hercules

Se me ocurrió dibujarlos después de escuchar repetidamente la canción de “No hablaré de mi amor” y comencé a imaginar a seven cantándola lol

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