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#they're in order of course
athanmis · 4 months
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pearl skizzy and ren for the life seasons!!
cleo etho and bdubs
pearl skizz and ren (you're here!)
scott bigb and martyn
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maulfucker · 19 days
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racism in star wars will have wikis saying shit like "this species that is inspired on a real life non-white people is just too stupid to use the Force"
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losing my mind trying to figure out what the different colored backgrounds mean for the fhjy characters. Absolutely cannot find a common thread so far. It's not villains/non-villains bc gorthalax and ruben are both red?? maybe the more major characters are certain colours? maybe it means absolutely nothing at all and I'm steadily going insane over nothing??
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^ me rn
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bruhstation · 7 months
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who here loves divorce? I do. here's captain star and captain zero: two people who can't help but drag other unwilling people into their huge mess! including the youth. can't forget the youth
(bit of ramble in the tags)
#this is tugs#tugs captain star#tugs captain zero#tugs ten cents#tugs zip#zerostar#zipcents#<-- let us hold hands through the trials of this world.#fortezza bigg city#senjart#complicated doomed old men yaoi is a bruhstation staple so of course I'm thrilled to show these two#said this to my friend#''what if ''found family'' parental figures have the toxicity of a traditional family's parents. something like that''#I can't really call the star fleet or even z-stacks found family because they're all bound together out of their will#like a traditional family#also they're people just doing their jobs but the youngest ones definitely got the worst blunt force#related to the animal imagery#ten cents is unwilling to be ordered around 24/7 by captain star and wants to assert his own agency#but due to his status as an employee and a child in star's eyes he can't do much about it other than scoff when star asks where he's been#ten cents is more assertive and stubborn. he desires to fly free and do whatever he wants without getting constantly nagged#zip is more mellow and subdued. he is more obedient and doesn't question much of what he's told#whether it's by zorran zug or captain zero#zip is like if you take a silly jolly golden retriever and try so so hard to train it to become a hunting dog#he regards captain zero highly like a son would to a father. he believes that zero is acting upon tough love on him#when in reality captain zero is just being his impatient distant self. he does care about zip but he also wants profit from it?#''I could guide him at arm's length but I should also have another errand boy in my ranks. it's good that he's obedient''#also FYI captain star and zero are not horrible people or whatever outlandish thing there is. they're just deeply flawed people-#-with distorted perspective on relationships and morality#anyways. I need a cold beer
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allastoredeer · 9 days
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The Egg Bois have no one to take orders from after Sir Pentious dies. Then they see Lucifer and immediately follow him around and unlike Alastor who didn't like being tailed by the annoying yappy yokes, Lucifer is enthralled by them because they are like little ducklings forming a line as if Lucifer is their mother
One egg boi, Frank, is the only one that stuck to Alastor, and Al makes it clear he wants him to go away but Frank stays with him. One time when Al was cooking, Frank asked if he could help and Al thought for a moment, grinned, picked up the egg, and plopped him in the boiling pot. Unfortunately, Frank did not hard boil, in fact, he enjoyed the hot bath, and the rest of the egg bois ran inside as Lucifer entered the kitchen and screamed in horror at the display but the rest of the eggs hopped around Al's feet, pulling at his trousers asking to join the bubble bath.
FRANK STAYING WITH ALASTOR IS SO CUTE MY HEART JUST EXLODED
Alastor trying to boil Frank is just fogjwenweln 🤣 I can see that. The fact that it's not working AND Frank's enjoying himself AND the other eggbois want to join in makes it all so much better.
Also, the other eggbois following Lucifer around like ducklings 🥺 that's adorable.
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cold-neon-ocean · 5 months
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My dogs my beloved dogs!! The first line of beastial spirit vine soldiers from my LoK AU. Created by Baatar when during experimentation, he discovered the spirit energy after being condensed causes the vines to react strangely to machinery and processed material. Turning the inorganic to organic.
These soldiers are comprised of spirit vines that have mutated in reaction to the condensed activated spirit energy and adhered themselves to the suits. Similar to "mimics" in a way, they can conceal their mouths fully so they're indistinguishable from human soldiers, though very astute earthbenders may notice they neither breathe nor have a heartbeat.
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intistone · 6 months
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Instead of Killing Sun and Moon before fight Eclipse, I Rizz them into joining the cult and Marry all three of them after defeating Eclipse
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Yeah i dont think it'll be that easy XD
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Y'all ever think about Goodsir, Fitzjames, and Blanky?
Y'all ever think about those three characters in a show about every kind of consumption under the sun - physical, mental, emotional consumption, being eaten up by the landscape, by your own demons, by your fellow man. Those characters who don't resist it in the end?
Who die, in fact, with the express intention of being consumed?
I think about them. Not coherently, but I think about them.
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ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3
~
Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.
The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through. 
Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell. 
It couldn’t hurt to make sure.
Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.
Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.
Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.
“Hey!” Eddie barks. 
Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line. 
“Eddie?” Barnaby says.
At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”
The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.
“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…
“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone. 
Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”
“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable. 
“Scout’s honor.”
“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”
“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”
Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”
“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.
Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”
“It is not!”
Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”
“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes. 
“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”
Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”
“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”
“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”
Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.
Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”
“I do not.”
“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”
Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”
“And yet…”
Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”
“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”
“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”
“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”
“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”
“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”
“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.
“Practically paper!”
“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.
“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”
Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.
“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”
“Never.”
“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”
“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand. 
Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”
“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”
The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout. 
“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-” 
“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”
“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”
Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”
“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers. 
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123pixieaod · 9 months
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Inspired by this godly post which unlocked a part of my brain I didn't know existed, and solidly gave me complete and utterly brainrot until I wrote something
A thousand thanks to Lily for her wonderful help :))
"Does Kelly not mind you spending all your time with me?" Daniel asks, because she's Daniel and once she's thought something she can't keep her fucking mouth shut, even if she knows it's trouble.
Max looks up, pausing his set of weights, and blinks at her. Daniel feels her cheeks warm. One day, that mouth of yours will run you straight into trouble, young lady, her mum used to tell her, voice firm. Good girls know when to keep quiet. Daniel used to just laugh at the warning. Her laugh is loud and the opposite of quiet, but she used to know that everyone always loved her laugh.
"No," Max says after a beat and then continues lifting. Daniel hates the way her gaze tracks over him, lingering on the movement of his muscles, the ease with which he lifts the weight. Tawny hair brushed out of his eyes, cheeks dusted warm from the exertion. "Of course not."
"Why of course not?" Daniel asks. She wants to sew her mouth shut. This time, Max didn't look over as he answers.
"Kelly's very secure, she's not like other girls. And besides, she knows you."
It's strange. When Daniel was seven and Michelle eleven, they'd gone rock pool fishing. Michelle had been crouched over a shallow pool of water, her finger delicately brushing the tentacles of the anemone. Daniel had been scaling the rocks, wanting steeper, taller, more.
She'd found the shark first, nestled high at between the rocks, and for a beat she hadn't known what she was looking at. Just details, but nothing collective. Rotting smell. Shrivelled holes where eyes should be. Scales of silver lightning. Rubbery fish picked clean. The flash of bone, pearl white.
Then she realised what she was staring at, and screamed. Her father held her while her mother scolded her. I told you not to go climbing! It's too dangerous, Daniel. Why can't you just be good like your sister and stay by the shallow pools?
And then, later, ice cream. Her dad, beside her, explaining the horror away.
It's just nature, Dani. The waves wash them up, and they get stuck there. They can't get back to the sea, and then the sun dries them out.
They drown on air, Michelle helpfully pointed out, her feet kicking happily as she licked her 99. Daniel just just nodded, ice cream untouched. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sunken holes, the rotting flesh.
She hasn't thought about that moment for years, but suddenly it washes back over her. She feels simultaneously both. The child, staring at the carcass, frozen in shock. The shark, burning up in the sun, chocking on air.
"What does that mean?" She asks, and somehow her voice is normal, is fine. She's fine. She's not a girl or a shark. She's stupid and a fool and a gawky, ugly idiot, but she's fine.
Max manages to shrug, even with the 50kg weights. "You know. Just that Kelly knows you. She knows what you're like. And she knows me too, of course."
Daniel swallows. She nods. She hates everything about herself.
"That's sexist," she forces herself to say lightly because if the silence stretches anymore, Max might notice and set his weights down and look at her, and Daniel can't bear that. She doesn't want his eyes on her, taking in every blemish and imperfection. The boyish, ratty clothes she works out in and her curls gone frizzy with sweat and her inked skin, so different to Max and Kelly's pale, perfect complexions.
"What's sexist?"
"Saying she's not like other girls," Daniel tells him, setting down the weights she been doing. Instead, she goes to grab the skipping rope, just for something to do.
Max laughs. Daniel's glad she's turned away. Her cheeks are burning again.
"It's the truth. You, of course, Daniel, are not like other girls either." He says it lightly and ends with a chuckle, as if it's all just a joke. Daniel drags a sweaty hand over her cheeks. Burning, burning, burning.
Apparently, in Max's mind, she and Kelly are the same; both not like other girls. Kelly, with her faultless makeup and wonderful daughter and classy dresses and perfect feminity. One end of the scale. Daniel, the other. Barely even considered "a girl." Always one of the boys, only woman in f1 for a reason.
"Thanks," Daniel says. She wants to make it sound humorous, like she's in on the joke too. Instead, it's too cold; muttered as if she actually gave two shits about the conversation anyway. She has an F1 season to prepare for, she's too busy to care about stupid shit like this.
There's a beat of silence as Daniel stretches out the rope, feeling the plastic flex and give. Then, Max exhaling, the gentle bump of his weights against the floor, the workout bench shifting as his centre of gravity changes. Daniel keeps her back to him, ignoring it all.
"I did not mean it as insult," Max finally says, stubborn. Daniel forces a laugh, turning to give him a smile, all teeth.
"Of course not Maxy. I get that." Voice light and blithe. One of the boys.
She thinks he'll drop it, but instead, his frown only grows. Pinched brows, thin lips, cheeks growing blotchy. Blue eyes regard her, intense and unyielding. She burns from the inside out.
"I've upset you," he says, in that blunt, genuine way only he can do. Daniel barks out another laugh.
"Don't be stupid. You're not important enough to ever be able to get under my skin." She gives him another smile with only teeth. She feels insane. Her mother tells her good girls stay quiet.
"I'm sorry," he tries again, growing frustrated now, "I did not mean -"
"I told you, you didn't upset me," she drops the skipping rope without actually using it. "Anyway, I'm bored. Wanna get lunch now? Or are you still trying to pump those muscle with more testosterone?"
Max gives her one last, searching look before standing. They're almost the same height. She wants to shrink to nothing.
"That is not how testosterone works, Daniel," he says with the air of an overworked teacher. He looks at her with a smile, uncertain but genuine. She laughs, allowing him to move the conversation on.
She walks out of the gym first but holds the door for him. He grins, relieved. His fingers skim hers as he takes it and she lets go. A chill runs through her. Cold like scales, cold like ice cream untouched.
Follow up here!
#whole lot of internalised misogyny to unpack here#in my head Daniel is looking like Tash Sultana in the music video for “Jungle”#Max just meaning :))) Kelly knows you and she knows me :))) and she knows we are both two good people who would not cheat :)))#while Daniel just going into an existential crisis of#:((( Kelly knows Max and I :((( and I am zero threat to her because I must be utterly undesirable :((( and not Max's type at all :(((#maxiel#girl!Daniel#for the first time ever lol#my fic#ending involves the tension between them growing and growing#and Kelly watches them share a podium and sees the way Max wraps his arm around Daniel's shoulder and hugs her tightly#and the way Daniel laughs so happily and loudly everyone can hear her#and suddenly Kelly realises she had been wrong and Daniel was a threat#and basically gives Max an ultimate to choose one of them and stop all contact with the other#somehow Daniel finds out and just locks herself away from the world during summer break because it's not even a question who max will pick#and their story ends with Max knocking on her door with looking annoyed with a bunch of drooping flowers#and before Daniel can even say anything he's stepping into her apartment and getting a vase from her cupboard#while complaining about how he ordered the flowers that morning but the florist fucked up his order and of course the flourists in the#Netherlands are much better and soon he will take Daniel there and pick proper flowers like tulips for her#she stares at him in pure disbelief and then starts to laugh. and Max looks over and laughs too and they're still smiling when they kiss#:)))))#apologies but I'm a sucker for a soppy cliched ending lol
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altruistic-meme · 1 year
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Young Royals Fic Rec List
hello!! it’s been a while since i’ve done a rec list and this is my first one for yr and im very excited to share!! i know several of these are some of the more well-known fics in the fandom but hey, if there’s someone who hasn’t heard of them then i’d be glad to help direct people there!
i tagged as many of the authors as i could, but there were some who’s tumblrs i couldn’t find so if you know any of the ones im missing, let me know and i’ll add them!!
this got infinitely longer than i meant it to, so it’s going under a read more. please enjoy <3
One-Shots
Simon Eriksson: Just Some Guy From Biology by fandom_commitment_issues @zee-has-commitment-issues (5k, oneshot, general audiences)
The girls in Simon's biology class are obsessed with Wilhelm, but they seem to have no idea that Simon is dating him. If he finds himself in a study group with them... well, he's only having fun. There's no harm in that.
or
Simon is a little shit, but it's a whole lot of fun.
[absolutely the funniest thing ever. There is a sequel and it’s the BEST]
The Thing In The Mirror by fandom_commitment_issues @zee-has-commitment-issues (3k, oneshot, general audiences)
Wilhelm stares at himself in the mirror on the morning of his twenty-second birthday and fights every thought that comes into his head in a losing war. None of them are particularly helpful. None of them make him feel good. He’s pretty damn sure nothing would. Not at this point. They collect in his head and tighten his throat and make him feel sick.
-
-
-
Wilhelm turns twenty-two.
[#1 on fics that made me cry and have a crisis. 10/10 spent an entire shift at work thinking about this fic specifically]
summer feelin’ by willesworld (romanticalrj) @willesworld (2k, oneshot, general audiences)
If Wille were to summarise his entire life in one word it would be disaster.
His hair is crusty and sticking to his face from the pool water Erik just dunked him in, and he’s sunburned and peeling and fucking red as a tomato, and he’s a disaster.
Because there is a boy sitting on the edge of the pool. The sun is beating down on Wille’s freckled (red) shoulders and the sky is blue and his mother is glaring at him from over her sunglasses, and there is a boy sitting on the edge of the pool.
 Or: The all too relatable moment when you fall in love with a beautiful stranger that you will never see again while you’re on vacation.
[incredibly soft and silly, absolutely can relate]
bloom where you are planted by cloudymilk @cloudywilmon (13k, oneshot, teen and up audiences)
Hi Wille, I hope you’re doing well!
I hope you don’t mind but I saw sometimes you give plant advice and I think I might have killed mine
- OR -
Wille is a plant boy, Simon has a black thumb. They both run semi-popular Instas.
*Update: Now with art! (Ch. 2)*
[i need about 10 million more fics like this]
Second Chances by embracedthevoid @ungaroyals (9k, oneshot, explicit)
Wilhelm and Simon don't like each other, everyone knows that. Their ongoing feud has basically turned into one big inside joke amongst their friends. The catch? No one knows that Simon and Wilhelm hooked up in their first year, where Simon ditched the next morning without so much as a note. Three years later the boys still hate each other, secretly harbouring their true feelings about a night they pretend never happened. While at Madison's start-of-term party meant to kick off the gangs last year of university, Wilhelm and Simon are chosen to play Seven Minutes in Heaven, but things don't go according to plan.
[👀 absolutely was waiting for this after s2]
Crown Prince Wilhelm’s Facts Sheet by Piebingo @piebingo (1k, oneshot, teen and up audiences)
“What’s this?” Simon asked.
“What’s what?”
“Crown Prince Wilhelm’s facts sheet,” Simon read, a stack of paper in his hands.
“Oh, it’s just the list of facts about me. I need to learn it by heart before the next set of interviews.”
“You need to learn facts about yourself?” Simon asked confusedly.
“Well, they’re not facts about Wille, they’re facts about Crown Prince Wilhelm.”
***
Simon finds Wille's facts sheet about himself. Or rather about Crown Prince Wilhelm. They play a little game for Wille to learn the facts.
[just incredibly fluffy. in love with this]
Multi-chap on-going
heavy is the head by oforamuse @prncewilhelm (63k, incomplete, general audiences)
At 8 years old, Wilhelm and Simon are inseparable. When Simon abruptly stops showing up to play, Wilhelm just wants his best friend back.
At 16, Wilhelm is sent to Hillerska to find himself and instead finds Simon—but Simon wants nothing to do with him.
 a childhood best friends to strangers to somewhat enemies to lovers au.
[this has changed me as a person. i cannot explain. you HAVE to read this fic istg]
finding home by Elin98 @ishotforthestars (12k, incomplete, general audiences)
Simon's about to close the magazine, throw it in the bin, when a headline catches his attention.
WHERE IS WILHELM?
The words curl their way inside his chest, bounce around in there along with the familiar ache. Wilhelm. He hasn’t thought about him in a while. Has tried to keep himself busy, his mind on other topics. Where Wilhelm is? Simon doesn’t know. Wishes he did.
Two years ago Wilhelm disappeared. Leaving behind a title of Crown Prince, a family in shambles and a tentative friendship built with a boy he used to love. No one has heard from him since.
What Simon doesn't know is that Wille might be closer than he could ever imagine.
[so sad :( i have so many feelings about this story]
dancing with our hands tied by embracedthevoid @ungaroyals (21k, incomplete, explicit)
Prince Wilhelm hates dancing, but he absolutely loathes ballroom dancing. And he's spent his entire adolescent life avoiding it at all costs, something that's become increasingly hard to do when his mother assigns him a tutor in hopes of shaping him into the perfect suitor. Claiming the key to finding a wife and securing the royal line is ballroom dancing. All Wilhelm needs to do is complete his classes, then he'll be free from the hell his mother is determined to put him through. A task that seems tolerable... until it isn't.
or...
Kristina hires Wilhelm a dance tutor in hopes that with a little more skill on the dance floor he'll find a wife. But she and Wille get more than they bargained for once Simon enters the picture. Basically, Simon's hot when he dances and Wille struggles to keep his hands to himself.
[i absolutely love this concept and the execution?? OUTSTANDING]
Like Because, Love Despite by cali-chan (girls_are_weird) @girls-are-weird (61k, incomplete, teen and up audiences)
Simon let out a huff. "For our plan! Remember? To get Englund and August to do business together so we can get them to cut us some slack?"
Wille frowned, confused. "Wait, I thought that was a joke."
"It was," Simon conceded. But then he leaned closer, conspiratorially, and lowered his voice, making Wille's traitor heart start nearly beating its way out of his chest. "But... what if it wasn't?" he asked, pronouncing the words very slowly.
Wilhelm and Simon are a pair of overworked, underpaid assistants who team up to gain their supervisors' favor by bringing them together for a joint venture. It might be the best worst idea they've ever had. PG-13, Set It Up AU, Wille/Simon, romance/fluff/slight drama.
[i love silly rom-coms. i love this. it’s just so !!!!!!!]
Completed
Can I Take Your Order? by littlefandom @little-fandom (207k, complete, mature)
“Okay,” the boy retorts, still eyeing him a bit curiously “can I take your order then, Wille?”
Wilhelm feels the blush on his cheeks deepen upon hearing his name on the boy’s lips. He can’t seem to find his voice again, his mind going blank. Felice did him what she wanted to order, right?
The waiter must have noticed he’s struggling but he only smiles a little, almost like he’s holding back a chuckle. Which does not help Wilhelm, because if his neutral, slightly tired expression was attractive before, now he’s just… wow, Wille’s brain shuts down again."
Wilhelm and Simon meet at the pizzeria in Bjärstad.
[words cant express how obsessed i am with this fic. currently rereading it and dying all over again. also one of the first fics i ever read for the fandom and WHAT an introduction!!]
The Full Prom Experience by littlefandom @little-fandom (18k, complete, teen and up audiences)
"Being a prince, he tends to forget about the normal parts of life sometimes.
So the perspective of prom seems… nice? Normal. Something he’d like to experience. Especially with his amazing boyfriend by his side"
The senior year prom at Hillerska is approaching and Wille finds himself more excited about it than he thought he'd be. Unlike Simon, who remains indifferent to this whole thing. But Wille knows his boyfriend deserves the best, so he settles on giving Simon the full prom experience... he just may not be sure what exactly it includes yet.
[this makes me wish i had ever had a date to prom ;;; also just so cute, let our boys have normal teen experiences please]
The Boy and the Bartender by Spidaya @simons-purplehoodie (82k, complete, mature)
Simon is a bartender at a local bar with a sunny smile and confident attitude that hide the darker side of his life he wishes to keep hidden. Wilhelm, the prince of Sweden, is a lonely boy with too much love to give and not getting much love in return.
After they meet at a bar in not the most Prince-Charming way, their hearts are forever intertwined with each other, but not before going through the hurt, trials, and love that come with both of their lives.
[yES i love this. the writing is just aaaaaaaa]
the sound of our hearts by littlefandom, Spidaya @little-fandom, @simons-purplehoodie (93k, complete, teen and up audiences)
“What if we don’t have any shared experience that we can use?” Wilhelm asks. Simon’s only reply is a tired sigh. “That’s why you should just write the lyrics and I should do the music.” He states again and it makes Simon see red.
“We talked about this,” he says, forcing on a calm tone “a song is something whole. Also, do you really think I wouldn’t want to have any say in the music to our song?”
Saying our song makes his skin crawl.”
Wilhelm, piano prodigy and son of the owners of Royal Records. Simon, an aspiring performer with big dreams. The best and brightest students of the Royal College of Music competing for the same scholarship of a lifetime. When they get paired together to write a song that is crucial for the scholarship run, both of them are ready to do whatever it takes to make it perfect. The problem? They can’t stand each other.
[misunderstanding enemies to lovers my beloved]
did you see the love in my eyes, oh were you gazing through this disguise? By millie_cheesesteak @tooindecisivetopickaurl (67k, complete, mature)
“What if you pretended to date someone else to show Victor you’ve moved on?”
Simon considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “Who would agree to that? I’m not exactly known for my social standing here. The only people I hang out with are you and Sara and her friends, who are all girls.”
“So I’ll do it then,” Wille offers, like that should’ve been obvious. Simon’s his best friend, and he’s upset. This seems like a no-brainer to him.
 (aka the fake dating/roommates AU you never knew you needed)
[100% needed it and i love it]
home is where I want to be (but I guess I’m already there) by millie_cheesesteak @tooindecisivetopickaurl (19k, complete, mature)
Wille knows that being in Madison is supposed to be a punishment for his “unseemly” recent behavior; he knew that there was never a chance that he was going to enjoy any part of being marooned here. But as he lies on the frozen sidewalk, head throbbing and a warm weight on top of him, he has to admit that he didn’t expect it to feel so punishing so quickly.
[undercover wille is something i wasn’t expecting but fell in love with]
you and me, meant to be by makeamends (20k, complete, mature)
For clarification, he asks “Prince Wilhelm? Simon, did you just say you used to be in love with Prince Wilhelm?”
Simon doesn’t hesitate to answer.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to marry him and everything. I had one of his posters on my bedroom wall for like a year when I was 15, right before I started high school. I took it down before I started Hillerska, but I’m sure it’s still in some box somewhere. His hair is so shiny, have you ever noticed?” He asks, as if he’s not just upended Wilhelm’s entire existence.
He knows he shouldn’t let this continue, Simon’s drugged out of his mind and doesn’t know what he’s saying and none of it might even be true, so he responds with “Simon, you know that I’m Prince Wilhelm, right?”
 or: when Simon has to get one of his wisdom teeth removed, Wilhelm doesn't hesitate to offer his help. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that he's been in love with Simon for years.
[so sad and so funny at the same time. brilliance]
guess this could be worse (walking out the door with your bags) by tobuildahome (24k, complete, teen and up audiences)
With fumbling hands, he quickly types into the site’s search bar, i love my homie but homie got a bf and i feel uncomfy what do i do help me?
His index finger hovers over the [enter] button, before he pauses, adding a pls at the end of the question.
Hey, he might potentially be a homophobe, but he has manners, okay?
(or; in which simon gets a boyfriend, and wilhelm is an idiot)
[Willhelm is so dumb here i love him so much]
Screwed by fandom_commiment_issues @zee-has-commitment-issues (174k, complete, teen and up audiences)
Erik lived, but things are still Royally screwed up.
 (beta reader appears at around the chapter 7 mark and it gets considerably better from there)
[if you haven’t read this Why Not. Go Read It Now.]
We Left Footprints When We Passed By by This_time_its_just_me (132k, complete, explicit)
Wilhelm broke Simon's heart twice.
He really should hate him considering everything he's done. Simon has tried for so long to push this thing out of him, sever this connection and burn it away. He's tried to rip it out of his heart until his fingers are bloody and his chest is open and raw. But it always finds a way to pull him back in. Wilhelm is a deep, vast ocean, and Simon is caught in his current. Caught in the swell of his inner storm. He is a planet in some dark expanse of galaxy and Simon is a moon trapped within his orbit. They continuously circle each other, again and again until one of them breaks. An endless cycle of wishful thinking that always ends the exact same way. Wilhelm turning his back and Simon left to pick up the pieces.
................................................................
It has been eight years since the video. Five years since Hillerska. Three years since Wilhelm disappeared from his life as quickly and as intensely as he had returned. Simon has done his best to move on from his past, but old ghosts are the hardest ones to exorcise.
(Written Pre-Season 2; The Cheating Fic as dubbed by Twitter)
[I Cannot Express The Many Levels In Which This Story Fucked Me Up. i literally think about it way too much]
“That’s my seat.” by YoungRydbergs (85k, complete, explicit)
"Oh, sorry, Prince Wilhelm," he said, "we have arranged seats."
Wille straightened again and looked around.
"Do you know where there is a free spot?" he asked, watching as the earlier empty seats started to fill up more and more as more people arrived.
"Yeah, the one on the fourth table over there," Alexander said and pointed at a table where both seats were still empty. "I think the chair by the wall is taken, but the other one should be free."
---
This is basically all of season 1 but with one small twist: Wille and Simon have to sit next to each other in class. Wille is still very much a prince, and Simon still hates the monarchy.
[ehhehe i love the smallest little changes and how much the effect the story]
arrhythmia by pysanky @pysankywrites-updates (75k, complete, mature)
“Do you have the patient file for 223?”
Simon rifled through his papers and found it, extending the file out toward Wilhelm, who took it but remained there, lingering. Madison and Simon both looked at him, waiting.
Wilhelm cleared his throat again, opening his mouth and closing it before opening it again, but then someone was calling for him and he was gone, shoes squeaking against the linoleum. Simon sighed when he looked around the edge of the station and realized that the other was wearing Crocs.
(or: in which Simon and Wilhelm work together as medical residents at the same hospital)
[wilmon as nurses is so shfkdhfs i never knew i needed it]
Fever Pitch by Scissorsandstone (101k, complete, explicit)
It's the Christmas Holidays and Simon can't seem to get into the festive spirit after what happened between him and Wilhelm a few weeks before. In fact, he's downright falling apart while trying to keep a brave face in front of his family. One night it all gets too much and he ends up revisiting an old haunt of Wille's and his and, unexpectedly, Simon is suddenly forced to confront his feelings head on
[this STORY man. its got a hold on my brain in the best way possible]
You feel like the perfect escape now (just like the sun on my face) by LoveIsGolden @sunshine-rudberg (51k, complete, mature)
“Then I guess we’re both going,” Simon concluded, although he sounded anything but pleased at the idea.
“What? Together?” Wilhelm asked, letting out a humourless laugh. “On their honeymoon?”
“I mean, from what I’ve seen about the honeymoon plans, they have booked a suite, a huge room. There are so many different activities offered and already paid for, we don’t even have to see each other except in passing,” Simon explained.
“Yeah, whatever,” Wilhelm agreed with a shrug. “But you better keep to your space, and I’ll keep to mine.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
 Or, when everyone – except Wilhelm and Simon – gets food poisoning at Erik's wedding, they decide to go on the non-refundable all-inclusive honeymoon to paradise together. The only problem is they hate each other – or at least they think they do.
[ABSOLUTE HALLMARK MOVIE VIBES meant in the most positive possible way]
you’re the cats meow by melsj98 @allthefakepeople (43k, complete, teen and up audiences)
Meet Simon. Simon, who is an animal-lover. Simon who works at his local shelter with his best friends Ayub and Rosh. Simon who loves what he does and takes pride in making the shelter a safe space. Simon, who wants to take care of his family while also juggling college classes, his job at the shelter, and his tentative music career. Simon who can’t afford any distractions right now and definitely is not looking for a relationship after his last few disastrous attempts.
Enter Wille. Wille who just wants to get through college without too many problems, Wille who only really has three true friends in his life, Erik, Felice and Maddie, anyone else who says otherwise is lying. Wille who got into a minor fight, the details of why aren’t important. Wille who has a semi famous family and whose face is now plastered across magazines labeling him as “jealous” and “violent” and “attention-seeking” and all these other labels that don’t represent him at all. Wille whose mother sends him to work at an animal shelter to “clean up his image”. Wille whose life begins to change the second his eyes fall on Simon.
[included in “fics that make me want to change my job” its just so cute]
I hate the way I don’t hate you. by embracedthevoid @ungaroyals (21k, complete, explicit)
"So, what do I have to do?" Simon concedes, knowing that neither boy will give it up before he at least pretends to play along with their weird cult-like boarding school traditions.
"You know Prince Wilhelm is arriving at the school next week?" August questions with a sly sort of smile that has Simon's skin crawling. "Well, it's simple really, we dare you to sleep with him by the end of the month."
_ _ _
or where Simon is a first-year boarding student at Forest Ridge, gaining himself a special sort of dare for his initiation. Sleep with the Prince of Sweden by the end of the month or suffer the consequences.
[this fic is so so so stuck in my brain]
the way you look at me by strummerjoe @strummerjoe (33k, complete, teen and up audiences)
After spending his whole life in Bjärstad, Simon is excited to go to university. He wants to embrace all aspects of student life and he's ready for anything.
Anything, except finding a disgruntled crown prince in his new bedroom.
[dumb university boys in love]
i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this by cloudymilk @cloudywilmon (59k, complete, explicit)
Simon is Wilhelm's best friend, so when he confesses that he's insecure about his lack of experience Wille offers to help him. After all, it's what any good friend would do, isn't it?
[what could possibly go wrong amirite? 👀]
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botanautical · 1 year
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wisps of youth.
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jurassic-cunt · 4 months
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i think one reason joplittle is compelling despite little onscreen interaction is that they're both loyal to crozier til the end. sort of sons to him in a way, because out of all the men silna and crozier pass, the only ones we see him touch are jopson and little. plus there is their contrasts. the cool unflappable steward pouring tea and the nervous scared first lieutenant giving orders. and little's smile when he finds out it's jopson getting promoted is so adorable
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Every once in a while I remember that Rian Johnson invented Rose Tico because he originally had Finn (child soldier who was brought up with propaganda and any attempts at identity stomped out recently escaped the people that enslaved him) and Poe (child of the New Republic, grew up in peacetime) at Canto Bight together and saw no potential for conflict or real difference between them. And then I stare into the distance and contemplate what could have been.
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sabraeal · 2 days
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fruit of the bitter tree, Chapter 1 [King's Beast | Ou no Kemono, Taihaku/Rangtsu]
[Read on AO3]
Written for @obiyuki-beebs, who has been a long time sufferer of this B-ship with me. One of the newer OnK chapters came out right before I asked for her birthday request, while we were both still wallowing in the DREAD GRIP of this pairing, and I was all too happy to be the first person to write fic for these idiots.
The decision to take on a new aide is one Tenyou-sama does not make lightly. The pavilion of the fourth prince has always been leanly staffed— at least according to Taihaku, who grumbles each time he tallies up the two ajin guards and one civil servant that populate the sprawling palace— but with the increased responsibility of becoming third prince—
“You can’t possibly expect me to take this on alone,” Taihaku tells him, belatedly— if reverently— tacking on, “Your Highness.”
Rangetsu does not naturally speak out both sides of her mouth, not the way the other courtiers do— the way Taihaku can, his words still light despite the weight of the double meaning they carry. But she has learned to listen for them, for the lacuna between breaths, for the way eyes often shoulder the burden that voices cannot. And Taihaku’s is all too plain.
A prince might suffer so few servants, the twitch in his cheeks mutters as the vein in his temple shouts, but an emperor cannot.
Tenyou-sama receives both rebukes with the same abashed bemusement as he takes most of Taihaku’s scoldings, head just barely bowed and smile strained at the corners.
“Of course.” One hand curling open, his magnanimity as reflexive as his kindness. “You are right, as always.”
Caught halfway through forming his next argument, chest puffed large as a bellows, Taihaku practically deflates, hollowed out beneath the tense line of his shoulders. “Oh. Ah. Are you really—?” His teeth snap around the rest of the question, dispelling it with a clearing of his throat. “I mean, thank you, master. Your wisdom is unimpeachable.”
One side of Tenyou-sama’s mouth twitches, stretching toward a smirk. “In this matter, at least. I have full trust that you will pick out someone suitable.”
“Me?” Taihaku’s jaw falls slack, one hand raised to sweep back the fall of his fringe before he remembers himself. “You mean—? Wouldn’t you rather select…?”
This time Tenyou-sama allows himself the smirk, one elegant brow sweeping up the smooth expanse of his forehead. Rangetsu’s fingers itch to trace its path. “You’re not the only one with more work, you know.”
“Ah…” Confusion converts to consternation, a bright flush creeping up from the collar of Taihaku’s robe, painting up the tense column of his neck. “Right. Of course.”
Tenyou-sama may be beautiful in that way that blossoms flutter on the breeze, or snow gathers on stone, but it’s Taihaku the palace maids giggle over. There’s something pleasant about his mouth, she’d heard one say, after he asked her to change out the arrangements in the fourth prince’s pavilion. I like watching him speak.
Rangestu had tried to see it— she’d had plenty of opportunity when he’d found her next, since he’d launched right into an impassioned lecture on the number of feet the fourth prince’s guards should keep on the ground when at court. Through all the sneering and snorting and snide remarks, she hadn’t found much of it pleasant to say the least.
But there is something about the way his jaw works that attracts her attention now; the jump of the tendon, perhaps, as it sets, or how delicately his throat bobs when it swallows. Or perhaps it is merely the grit of his teeth, the smile that is more nerves than nicety as he says, “I won’t let you down.”
Like an ajin’s, she realizes. That’s what his smile is like. And when she angles her own up to him, chasing his heels as he stomps out the door, he scowls back.
“Don’t,” he warns, darkly, “even think about making more work for me.”
“I was just wondering,” she says, trotting past his shoulders. “If my brother still has that liquor the Kougai-sama gave him.”
*
“This is just like him!” Beside her and Sogetsu, it is easy to forget that Taihaku’s official title was guard rather than aide for the first stumbling years of her tenure. But there is strength in the arm that he drops, leaving the table trembling beneath its weight. “I tell him there’s a problem, and then he— he goes off and gives me the power to fix it! Because gods forbid he actually…”
His voice drops to a mumble, muffled by the hand he curls over his mouth. Even with her ajin ears, Rangetsu can’t make out more than one word in five. Not that she needs to— when he gets like this, Taihaku cares more about airing his complaints than having them heard— but she still leans in, close enough one of her splayed knees brushes against his, and asks, “You don’t want to pick out the new servant?”
“What?” His hand lifts, burying itself in his hair rather than corners of his jaw. It’s not often she sees his eyes like this— unobstructed, no spray of fringe to hide the impatience in them. Or, sometimes, something she’s almost sure is fondness. “Of course I do. If I left it to Tenyou-sama, he’d pick someone like you.”
She blinks, filling his cup when he holds it out. “Ajin?”
His mouth curls around the cup’s edge. “Hopeless.”
*
Ichii joins them when the sakura first begins to bloom.
There’s petals tumbling in the air when Taihaku kneels at the bottom of the pavilion steps, leaning forward to lay prostrate at Tenyou-sama’s feet. They catch in his hair, dainty pink dotting inky black, like still water at twilight.
Standing at his shoulder, Rangetsu is glad for her mask— she cannot be sure what the third prince’s chief aide might do if he saw her smile, but it would almost certainly involve copying the worst poetry in the palace’s collection until her strokes were as fine as his. Or at least, until he got sick of disappointment.
His kowtow is serviceable, its execution technically perfect if lacking in abject devotion; the ideal model for the boy beside him, who hurries to make a more meaningful one.
Seated at the top of the steps, robed in pristine white and flanked by two ajin guards, Tenyou-sama is ethereal, more spirit than man and every inch an imperial prince. “This is the one you picked?”
“It is, Tenyou-sama.” Taihaku sits back on his heels, the veil of his fringe settling over his serious eyes. “Ichii recently passed the civil servant exam at its highest levels. Even amongst this year’s impressive showing of applications, he stood out in both the written and physical portions of the exam.”
Across Tenyou-sama’s elegant shoulders, Sogetsu meets her eyes, and even masked as he is, his amusement is plain. As is Tenyou-sama’s, his mouth unable to resist a wry tilt as he hums, “Did he?”
Taihaku’s brow furrows, frowning at their amusement. “Yes, Your Highness. I hope he meets your expectations.”
“If he was chosen by you, then I have every confidence he will.” He shifts, one hand curling under his chin as he adds, “It’s only….”
“Yes?” Taihaku prompts, impatience scraping the reverence off the edge of his voice.
“Well…” Tenyou-sama shifts, his own cheeks blooming with a dainty flush. “I would never have expected you to pick an ajin.”
*
“Don’t get any stupid ideas!” Taihaku glares over the rim of his sake cup, cheeks flushed with more than just alcohol now that both the boy and Tenyou-sama have been put to bed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the two of you.”
Sogetsu’s lounge only makes the arch of his brow all the more insolent. “Is that so? Here I was, half convinced you might like us.”
“I meant what I said.” He glances between the two of them, shoulders hiked right up to his ears. “He’s the best of a bumper crop.”
Impressive, at his age. The boy is young— young enough for one dark ear to droop as she took him to his quarters, so tired he didn’t noticed until she clasped it between her two fingers and rubbed at the muscle beneath. Rangetsu had no memory of how her own ears came to stand so proudly— there was little occasion for tenderness in the crèche— but during her short-lived retirement, she saw one of the old farm wives doing the same to the litter of pups their best bitch had whelped, urging them to standing. It was supposed to be a kindness, but—
But Ichii had smacked her hand away, eyes wide all the way around, and told her, “That won’t be necessary.” His voice had cracked at the end, still high when he tersely bid her goodnight.
“And no one else would have taken him,” Sogetsu adds. It’s not a question.
“No.” Each syllable elbows its way out of his mouth, begrudging. Tenyou-sama may have made it possible for ajin males to serve as more than fodder on the battlefield, but few humans would hire an animal to balance the books. “They wouldn’t have.”
Her brother hums, taking another delicate sip from his own cup. “Their loss.”
“Yeah.” Taihaku shoves a hand through his hair, unveiled eyes meeting hers for a moment before skittering away. “You could say that.”
*
“Do you like your room?” Rangetsu had been breathless when she’d showed it to Ichii the night before— private quarters, with a washstand filled fresh each morning and night. It’s the sort of luxury children in the crèche would only whisper of behind their hands, the kind they would only see if they were taken as royal guards or managed to make a name for themselves among the other flowers in the red light district. “I could hardly sleep my first night here.”
There are few civil servants who could keep pace with two ajin guards— especially ones as tall as her and her brother— but the boy manages it with only the scantest scarcity of breath, his chin tilted up pridefully between his deadly bookends. “I have no complaints, Rangetsu-dono.”
She stares down at him. Only a single night here and already he sounds like Taihaku. “Really?”
His nose wrinkles above his already rumpled mouth. “Yes.”
“I slept on the floor.” Sogetsu leans down, hanging over the boy’s shoulder with a conspiratorial smirk. “The bed was too soft. Took me nearly a month to sleep there the whole night.”
Ichii’s mouth rounds. “R-really?”
Sogetsu nods, straightening into his usual saunter. “There’s no shame in struggle here— not like there is out there. If you have trouble adjusting, you need only speak up.”
“My room is just down the hall,” Rangetsu blurts out, eager to have Ichii turn to her with the same wide, reverent eyes he gives her brother. “And Sogetsu’s is down in the other direction! Taihaku, too, he’s right next to me, so if—”
“I will make sure not to disturb you.” It’s a solemn promise, one he makes with head bowed and shoulders square— and exactly what she didn’t want.
“No!” He startles as she slings around him, taking her next stretch of steps backward to make sure their eyes meet as she says, “Please, do! If there is anything, I am happy to help-- no matter how small!”
Ichii’s mouth falls slack around an, “Oh.”
“Don’t look at me,” Sogetsu drawls when the boy casts his curious eyes on him. “I expect you to keep your problems to daylight hours. And amusing, too, if you mean to drag me into them.”
“Taihaku will handle most of your academic education, but Sogetsu and I will be handling your martial training,” she adds, falling back into step beside him. “But if you’re struggling with anything, tell me right away! Taihaku is a great teacher, but if you need him to go slower, I can tell him to—”
Ichii’s mouth pulls thin, a narrow perforation in his unblemished face. “Thanks you, Rangetsu-dono,” he says, not sounding grateful in the least. “But I won’t need any help.”
“Oh my,” Sogetsu snorts, as the boy outpaces them, his small back disappearing around a corner. “For having pretended to be an adolescent boy so long, my dear, you certainly don’t know how to handle them.”
*
Ichii does, of course, need help. The civil service exam may have prepared him for a life of clerical work in honor of the emperor, but there are different expectations for a prince’s aide. A rounded reading list, for one, with a working grasp of both classic shi and the newer fu poetry— a subject that Taihaku bemoans her progress on even now— as well as exemplary skill in the use of the short sword.
Oddly enough, it’s the last that Ichii struggles with.
“He is physically gifted,” Sogetsu hums, squinting over the training yard. “Even though it’s clear he’s never touched a sword save to pass that exam.”
Tenyou-sama shifts on the bench, one arm lazily folded over the pavilion’s rail, watching Taihaku and Ichii trade blows below. Or rather, they would be, if Taihaku didn’t easily side step each of the boy’s swings, delivering a corrective tap to his side. “As all ajin are. I’m sure with a few more months of training, he’ll outstrip Taihaku with ease.”
“Me too.” Sogetsu tilts his head back, grin sharp as his knives. “Looks like it will be up to my dear sister to make sure our newest addition meets his potential.”
“He’s over-committing.” It’s obvious in the way his shoulder reaches with every swing, in how long it takes him to recover his footing with each dodged blow. “Relying too much on strength when he’s fast too. Much more than Taihaku, if only—”
“My my.” Sogestu arches one of his brows, letting it disappear beneath the pale fall of his hair. “Maybe you should be the one down there.”
It’s not an idle suggestion, not one made from innocence and sincerity— no, as much as Rangetsu may love her brother, as much as she would be willing to lay down her entire life to see him alive and safe, she also has learned: Sogetsu never speaks a single syllable without some scheme behind it.
One which is all too clear when Tenyou-sama turns on his bench, glowing in the heat of the sun, and inquires, so innocent, “Oh, yes! Why aren’t you down there, Rangetsu?”
Sogetsu has earned more than the second of scowl she spares him before she replies, “Taihaku said I’d be in the way.”
“Underfoot,” Sogetsu supplies, so helpful. “I believe that was the word he used, sister dear.”
*
Rangestu only means to pass by Tenyou-sama’s office. Really, she does— it’s the most direct path between her chambers and the training yard, and after the kerfuffle in the kitchens today, she’s already late to her standing spar with Sogetsu. She doesn’t even pause when she passes the open doors, skirting around the curtains billowing in the first summer winds, until—
Until Tenyou-sama’s soft words drift through them, inquiring, “How is Ichii progressing?”
It’s hardly any of her business— Ichii’s made it quite clear that she last on his list of aides to beg favors from. Sogetsu might tease, might say, you read a room as well as you read any of the classic poets, but even she knows that she can’t elbow her way into his good graces by will alone.
And yet, she presses herself to the wall, ears perked to hear Taihaku’s buoyant, “Very well, Your Highness.”
Rangetsu frowns. He’d never spoken so glowingly of her accomplishments, as if just the thought of them put a skip in his step. As if they were something to be proud of, rather than grudgingly won.
Even Tenyou-sama seems surprised. “I hadn’t thought you would take so well to being an instructor again. Not after…”
Her.
“Ichii takes to everything like a duck to water,” Taihaku boasts, for once eager to praise. “Poetry, economics, imperial history— his calligraphy is already good enough to use in official correspondence.”
Unlike hers, which was hardly fit for the scrap paper she scrawled it on. Tenyou-sama said she had an endearing hand— a compliment she had taken pride in until Taihaku scoffed, that’s the sort of thing parents tell their child.
“And his martial skills,” Tenyou-sama presses, strangely unsure. “I suppose it might be time to let Rangetsu teach him the better points of—”
“No need, Your Highness.” Taihaku— Taihaku— laughs, deep in his throat, like a pleased parent fondly chiding their favorite child. “I’m happy to handle his training too.”
“Really?” At least Tenyou-sama seems as left-footed as she does. “I would have thought you would be eager to get back to your regular work.”
“And give up my best student?” He snorts. “Not likely.”
*
There’s something wrong with her, she thinks.
She makes it to her spar with Sogetsu, but her hands shake when she picks up a spear, her rolling stomach making the ground beneath her pitch and yaw like a ship’s deck. It fades as she advances toward her brother, chasing his his tail around the yard as if they were children still— he never did quite learn to fight the way he should, more fox than wolf even with a weapon in hand— but a simple kick from him sends her skittering across the clay, painting a bright red streak down the back of her uniform.
Sogestu, for his part, only watches her get to her feet, but his eyes narrow when she puts her back to him, pleading fatigue.
They narrow even further at dinner— taken together, at his insistence— when she only picks at her plate, unable to summon up her usual enthusiasm for the whole grilled fish placed in front of her. By the time Tenyou-sama dismisses them that night, it’s a wonder she can see anything more than a sliver of silver-blue, lingering on her as she stays behind, a soft hand already reaching for hers.
But there is no relief to be found in Tenyou-sama’s touch. No, when he strokes a hand down the bared skin of her arm, the tension beneath it snaps instead of sparks. She’s used to a pleasant hum that follows in the wake of his hands, like the air before a lightning strike, but instead she feels like an erhu strung too tight, the only music he can draw from her sharp and discordant.
He’s disappointed when she begs off his attentions, but spares her a welcome smile when she slips from his arms— and a less helpful kiss, leaving her nerves jangling as she slinks off to her rooms, strangely dissatisfied.
There’s nothing that eases it; not the briskness of the air nor her steps-- not even the palms she rubs down her arms, trying to urge her skin smooth. Something in her is laying at odd angles, and no matter how she sways and jumps, it won’t lay flat, won’t let her go back to the easy routine she’s settled into.
At least it doesn’t until she catches the spill of golden light from beneath Taihaku’s door. He’s up, still, probably poring over reports Tenyou-sama has long set aside. That’s the thing about the fourth prince’s foremost aide: he’s never once learned how to relax—
“Hah!”
Rangetsu jumps, skirting around his door like a skittish cat at a puddle. That had sounded like— like Taihaku. But it’s impossible; he doesn’t laugh at anything save her. And it’s not like that, all bright and bubbly, amused rather than tired—
“Is that your argument?” His tongue keeps tripping, his normally perfect syllables crowded by the laugh he’s barely holding at bay, and it’s strange how her heart pounds with each skipped consonant or strangled vowel. It’s Taihaku, it is, but unfamiliar, and though she knows she must go, she cannot make herself do anything but lean against the wall, drinking it in.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he insists, more evenly now. “Unless you want to get laughed out of the room before you can make your case.”
Her blood runs cold at the soft voice that squeaks out, “Of course, shifu…”
*
It's just...odd, that's all. Taihaku had always chased her out of his quarters after hours, telling her that he wasn’t her teacher again until morning. Later, she'd learned she could simple bring a bottle and her problems to his door, or sometimes simply sweep in, trapping him in questions before he could think to turn her out, but still--
It’s been hours, and they’re still in there, laughing over— over things. Poetry, probably. Literature, even. All the things Rangetsu could never get the hang of, but Ichii takes to as easy as breathing.
Ichii. Just thinking the name sets a spike through her breast. My best student.
Rangetsu lowers her chin, letting it dig into the flesh of her arm. It's silly, worrying about this. It's been ages since Taihaku called himself her tutor-- I've washed my hands of you, he tells her each time she shows him her attempts at calligraphy, stick to waving around that pole of yours-- no longer just his student, but friends as well. Just because Ichii is good at...at everything doesn't mean he doesn't like her too. It's just--
Well, only one of them is in his room right now, aren't they?
“Oh, my my my.” Sogetsu slips onto the railing next to her, eyebrows already lost behind the sweep of his hair. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”
She frowns. “What is?”
“Why…” His teeth flash in the moonlight. “Not being the favorite anymore.”
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softquietsteadylove · 6 months
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Hello love! May i ask for a spicy one but this time Gil teases Thena and gets it back at her. 🩷
Thena glares at Gil as he picks up the phone.
"What?" he growls into it. "Right...yes."
Thena goes so far as to cross her arms at him, raising her brows. Is this really the time?
He chuckles, resuming what he was doing while still on the call. "No, I can talk."
Thena slaps her hand over her mouth as he resumes thrusting, literally completely inside of her as he takes the business call. This is revenge for earlier that morning.
"Right," he grunts, only sounding slightly out of breath as he continues to move his hips against hers, their skin slapping together as he fucks her on top of his desk. He looks down at her, "I'm not available right this second."
Thena glares at him more, but then he hits that sweet spot and she has to close her eyes because fuck! She tries to sit up and support herself with her elbows but that takes too much energy.
Gil moves his hands and pounds into her even harder, "hang on."
She puts both hands over her mouth as she lets out a loud mix of both a moan and a curse. Fuck this man. He moves with that same intensity until he knows damn well that she's getting close to coming. Then, in a flash, he's out of her.
"What was that?" he asks into the phone, completely absurdly with his suit jacket still on and his cock out and rock hard. "Yes, I see."
Thena slams her fists on his desk at the absence of him. She will get him for this. She sits up again, panting for breath and flushed scarlet rouge. "Get back here."
This man - this complete bastard - holds up a finger to shush her with a wink and the cockiest smirk she has ever seen. He is having far too much fun with this.
"Uh-huh, yes," he continues on in his conversation as he comes closer again. "Right."
Thena moans loudly as he kisses her, hoping that it will urge him to put the fucking phone down and resume fucking his impatient partner.
But Gil holds the phone away from them, dampening the sound of her pleasure for those who aren't privy. When he pulls away from her he brings the phone back, "walk me through that part again?"
Thena bares her teeth at him, ready to take matters into her own hands and tell whomever is on the other end of that call that they are keeping her from a very important orgasm.
Gil half turns away, only for his fingers to immediately resume what work he had been doing before. "Right."
Thena moans again, leaning back on his desk with her breasts settling in her new position. This is the kind of thing she used to dream about. Back when she hadn't been working for him for long, and then she would avoid him so her boss wouldn't somehow find out she was having positively filthy sex dreams about him.
"I think that's reasonable," he continues to speak so normally as he hooks his fingers inside of her, stroking that spot with ease. "It's a perfectly acceptable proposal."
"Fuck," she whimpers as, once again, he drags her all the way to the edge before stopping. She could scream, "Gil!"
"Sweetheart," he puts the phone to his shoulder and croons at her, "not much longer--promise."
Fuck this man.
Thena bites her lip. She's so close. She's been close since the moment he called her into his office and proceeded to kiss her until she couldn't think. When he first bent her over his desk and then helped her lie back on it, tits out, skirt hauled up to her waist.
"Hm," Gil pulls his hand back and licks his fingers one by one, "hmmmm."
Thena tries to kick at him, but he catches her ankle and hooks it into the crook of his elbow. He's enjoying the view; she flushes scarlet.
"Let me see," he chuckles into the phone again before turning to face her. He braces himself on the table again. "I'll get back to you."
Thena lets out a shriek as he drops the phone receiver down the same moment he pushes into her again. "Fuck!"
"When did you become so impatient, Naekkeo?"
"Fuck you," she snarls, and sounds just like him when she does. But she's so wound up, and she wants to come so bad. "You owe me."
"On the contrary, Yeobo," he pulls her hips so he can angle himself better. "This is payback for this morning. Now, we're even."
Oh, they would not be even for a long time for this.
"Fuck, Gil, please," she whimpers, positively feverish with need for him. She reaches for his hand, and not only does he hold it, he also uses it for leverage to fuck her even harder. "I wanna come!"
He all but roars as he pounds into her, their hips meeting in a hard and messy conjoining of bodies writhing together. "Fuck!"
Thena comes first, finally free after a very drawn out lead up to her crescendo. Warmth engulfs her completely and she finally lets go of everything that had been coiling within her. She flops back down to the leather deskmat beneath her, hair everywhere, completely exposed. She feels amazing.
Fuck--this man.
Gil comes barely seconds after, hunching over her and his hips giving a last few jerks as he lets his own ecstasy overtake him. He leans over her until he's close enough to kiss her, both of them kissing and gasping for air on different rhythms.
Thena moans as he slips out of her. His office is going to be a mess (and reek of sex for hours). She finally pries her eyes open just to stare at his ceiling. "Fuck."
"Yeah," he agrees, laughing faintly.
She huffs, slapping his shoulder. "It's not funny."
"It's a little funny."
"Gil!"
"Sorry baby," he chuckles, kissing her temple and then down her cheek and neck. "Couldn't resist--and hey, now you know what you put me through this morning."
Thena grumbles as he pulls her up (knowing her core doesn't have the strength in it for her to do it herself at the moment). She nuzzles into his shoulder, "I think you did far worse."
"I think we're even," he refutes, letting her lean on him as he first pulls her bra back on for her, then buttons up her cardigan again.
She grumbles, "I'm sweaty."
He fluffs her hair out for her and kisses her other cheek, "you're glowing and beautiful and perfect."
Fuck, this man; Thena rolls her eyes, pushing at his chest to try and sit up straight on her own. She wobbles a bit, but she does it. "The work day is not exactly over."
"Yeah, but at least I don't have any more meetings," he grins as he fixes his own appearance as well. "Or conference calls."
Thena pouts at him as she straightens herself out a little more, including getting her stockings hooked to her garter belt again. "I should hope not."
Gil helps her off his desk, her knees wobbling faintly as her heels hit the floor. He holds her gently, letting her stand up out of his grasp when she's ready. "Hey."
Thena smiles into his soft and sweet kiss, much more her househusband than her boss. She pats his chest, "you're not out of trouble yet."
"Save it for home, vixen," he both teases and agrees, pulling the hand up from his chest and to his lips. "And ask cleaning to do an extra thorough detailing in here tonight?"
She doesn't look forward to that. It's ridiculous, but she feels like cleaning has some way of knowing what they've been up to in here.
"And Thena?"
"Hm?" she looks over her shoulder a step and a half away from where they were just fucking like animals. She's combing her fingers through her hair and he's collecting his stray papers.
Gil crosses the distance to kiss her again with his sweet, househusband smile, "I love you."
She gives him another little kiss--a truly domestic exchange of affection after a very wild 'meeting' in the middle of the day. "I love you, too."
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