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Not Bob’s Burgers related, but the amazing @gaywriterthings officially convinced me to continue my Stranger Things Steve Harrington x OC fic, which has been left in limbo for years now (I just needed time and motivation to continue it).

This is probably a cool time to be doing this, considering the fifth and final season of the show is coming out next year. So, look out for that fic being released on AO3 eventually.

In the meantime, look at this adorable drawing of them they made for me! Isn’t is precious?

[ID]: Traditional fanart of Steve Harrington, a character from the show Stranger Things, and an OC named Anya Li. Anya is a thin, pretty Taiwanese girl with short black hair, a white shirt, a gray belt, and a pink skirt. She’s giving Steve an almost teasing look. Steve is a handsome boy with incredibly fluffy brown hair, and a bright blue sailor’s uniform with a nametag on it. One of his hands is in his pocket, and he’s blushing a bit. There’s a bright striped shirt underneath his uniform, which looks like Where’s Waldo’s shirt.

Of Ruin: Chapter 4 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: tense situations with dangerous vampires, casual wine drinking, language probably, arguments

wc: 5.5k

“What have we here?” the low voice asks, and your adrenaline races, leagues ahead of your logical processes which take a few more seconds to register that you’re standing between the stone statue and an Infracti man, thin and willowy, unnaturally long.

You’re slammed with shame at your hubris, warring intensely with your fear. You’d thought you could just wander around the royal palace of Infracticus, that these natural predators wouldn’t find you, couldn’t sneak up on you? 

“A human?” he continues, thoughtfully. His black eyes are on you intently, his upper lip curled to reveal his inhuman incisors. He cocks his head, crowds you in a bit. “Or… something else? What brings you here, little morsel?”

Morsel. 

You try to peek around him, to see if anyone might come to your rescue. There’s no one there. You aren't supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be in your rooms, guarded, kept safe. And this is why.

He can’t just kill you right here, you think wildly. We’re in the palace, for god’s sake.

Well, something in your mind counters, he can. There just might be consequences after. 

You didn’t even make it twenty-four hours without blowing your cover. Not even twenty-four hours before fucking up the assignment, putting yourself in danger. 

This is why you shouldn’t be in charge of the cases.

“I was invited,” you say, and your voice shakes. 

He smiles, or something like it, sliding somehow closer. You press harder against the statue, your body trying to create space that isn’t there. Your legs tremble, and you clutch your hands into fists to hide how they shake.

“Oh,” he says, tilting his head even further, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Don’t be frightened. I wouldn’t kill you. Only -”

“Only what?” a cold voice interjects.

The Infracti man has backed away from you and bowed deeply at the waist before you can even process his movement. Infracti move unnaturally fast when they choose to, and you feel like your mind is working through molasses in the wake of your adrenaline rush. 

Relief makes your shaking knees almost give way. The prince stands before you, a sandy-haired Infracti man behind him, both of them frowning deeply. 

You push yourself off the statue, fear sharpening, shifting into a stance that might allow you to run, if you need to.

“Your highness,” the Infracti, still bowing, says. “I -”

Prince Taehyung turns to the man behind him. “Take her to my rooms,” he murmurs, just quietly enough that you struggle to hear him. “I need to handle this, here.”

You freeze, trying to decide if you should bolt (as if you could outrun any of them), or if you should go where you’re told. The word morsel swims through your mind again.

Prince Taehyung must see it on your face - fear, wild and roiling - because he pauses. Then he speaks again, even more quietly, just to you.

“I trust Jimin with my own life,” he tells you. “You can trust him with yours. Go to my rooms. I’ll come right after you.”

The sandy-haired Infracti - Jimin, apparently - holds out his arm to you, as if he’s your date, ready to escort you through the court gathering below. You step forward on shaky legs and are surprised when he supports you easily. 

You shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve got to stop underestimating the monsters you’re surrounded with. 

He leads you away silently, but once you’re around a few corners he slows his gait considerably and releases your arm so you can walk on your own. You’re grateful; he wasn’t the one who scared you, but you want as much personal space as you can get, right now. 

“Almost there,” he promises you. “The prince’s wing is just up those stairs ahead.”

You count your breaths as you follow him, trying - and failing - to still the tremors that still rock your limbs. You reach the stairs quickly and follow Jimin up. At the top, you’re greeted with a gorgeously decorated corridor with thick carpeting and glittering chandeliers replacing wall sconces. Guards stand at attention on both sides of the corridor, backs straight and black eyes forward. 

The closest one turns when you approach, but her shoulders relax when she spots Jimin. Her eyes catch on you, and she frowns quizzically.

“The Prince asked me to bring her here,” Jimin explains. 

“For what purpose?”

“I didn’t ask,” Jimin says coolly. “You can ask him, he should be right behind me.”

The guard’s expression tells you that she does not want to do that, and she slides back into place, inclining her head towards the guards that flank his tall, golden doors, indicating that you should be allowed through.

Inside, Jimin gestures for you to sit on one of the plush couches in the first room. You sit on the edge, terrified. You’re pretty sure no one is going to actually kill you at this point, but the fear from earlier clings to you, reluctant to leave. Not to mention, you’re sure you’re in trouble for getting yourself in that situation in the first place, for going against your directions. 

The only thing the royal family had asked of you was secrecy. 

Jimin keeps his distance, turning and watching the fire dance in the fireplace, leaving you to panic in silence. As promised, it is only minutes before the doors open again, and Prince Taehyung pushes his way through, jaw set and brows furrowed. Jimin turns to face him, and you rise. 

He stalks towards you, stopping a few feet in front of you. His eyes, made to look human, find yours.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, a bit breathlessly. 

“No,” you tell him, but he seems to look you up and down anyway. His gaze catches on your shaking hands. His face softens, some of the anger ebbing away.

“Don’t be scared,” he says, a touch more gently. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, feeling no better for his reassurances. Are you safe? 

He backs off a step, shares a look with Jimin, then laughs darkly, shaking his head. He walks away from you, rubbing his forehead.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius,” he shoots over his shoulder at you. You flinch. “What kind of idiot human walks around Infracticus alone?”

Jimin speaks up, saving you from having to respond. “Did you deal with -?”

Prince Taehyung nods, expression grim. “It’s under control.”

“In that case, we should rejoin dinner,” Jimin ventures. “I’m sure our absence has been noted.”

Prince Taehyung brushes past him and reaches for a crystal decanter, pouring a dark liquid into a glass. He lifts the decanter towards Jimin, who shakes his head, then at you.

You eye the deep red liquid, stomach jolting.

“It’s wine,” he says flatly, correctly reading your reaction. “Ordinary wine. A pinot noir, I believe.”

“No thank you,” you whisper.

Taehyung makes a face like suit yourself and drains his glass. Then, to Jimin, he says, “Will you go back? If anyone inquires… something came up.”

Jimin nods mutely, giving him a quick bow and heading for the door. He pauses as he passes the prince, muttering something quietly to him that you can’t catch. But, as he does, his eyes are on you, and the prince turns minutely to look at you as well. 

You feel a shudder travel down your spine. 

Jimin shoots one last glance at you and slips out the door. Prince Taehyung heaves a sigh and moves to refill his goblet.

“What did he say?” you demand. You’re so frightened that it makes you aggressive; you’re a cornered animal, no control over lashing out. And it’s clear to you that whatever was said, it was about you. 

Prince Taehyung gives you a wry kind of smile, one that you don’t understand. 

“He told me to remember that I’m scary, too,” he says dryly. “As if I could ever forget. Especially these days.”

When you don’t answer, he turns, fiddling with the crystal decanter again.

“Are you sure you don’t want wine?” he offers again, not turning to look at you. “It would calm your nerves.”

“I’d rather keep a clear head,” you say, your voice starting to sound firmer, more solid now that your heart isn’t galloping anymore. In your head, you see the swirl of black eyes, and you push the image away. 

“Smart,” he says, and comes to sit on the couch opposite you. He opens a hand, indicating that you should sit as well. You do, stiffly. You’re pretty sure you’re about to be fired. 

You guess that’s better than being slaughtered.

Still sucks, though.

“That was Jimin,” he says suddenly, like his manners have just occurred to him. “He’s my best friend, for some reason. Has been for… centuries. I should have properly introduced you.”

“It’s okay,” you say, sheepish. “You were focusing on… other things.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to tell my parents what happened tonight,” he says, removing his hand and looking up at you. His wavy hair swings a little, and a detached part of your brain gets the errant urge to brush it back into place.

“You’re not?” you echo hollowly. 

He shakes his head. “They’d send your team back immediately.”

You swallow thickly, feeling like you’re being handed a gift you absolutely don’t deserve. “They’d be right to,” you whisper, shame crawling up your arms.

He makes a face like he agrees, a little bit. “I have faith in your curse-breaking abilities,” he tells you. “If not your ability to follow directions.”

Your face heats up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “And not just because someone found me - I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have -”

“So why did you?” he asks, brow furrowing. “I can’t understand. Were we somehow unclear? The other families can’t know we hired a curse-breaker. Humans don’t come here - questions will be asked. And even if you chose not to care about my secret… you put yourself in great danger.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “I wasn’t… I didn’t not care about keeping your secret. I just… didn’t think anyone would notice me.”

You’re sure the prince rolls his eyes at this, lightning quick. “My people may be civilized,” he says slowly, nearly in a drawl, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you are a walking buffet table with flashing neon signs. They can smell you before they can see you. They can hear your heartbeat from rooms away. They are inherently built to find you even when you don’t want to be found.”

He stares at you a bit incredulously, as if he can’t believe he needs to explain this to you at all. “I thought you were a scholar on my people,” he adds finally, putting voice to what you’d seen on his face. 

“I was,” you croak. “I am. I just… underestimated the situation. I thought I could stay undetected. I just wanted to… look around. I spent so many years studying your people and your culture, it’s torture to sit in one room, so close, but unable to experience any of it.”

The prince sits back at this, looking at you suddenly with an expression that you can’t decipher at all.

“What?” you ask, nervous. Has your explanation offended him? 

You start trying to think of how to explain further, when he gives a tiny half-smile and says, “I didn’t expect you to be… curious. About us. About my home.”

You sit back, too. This conversation is not going where you expected it to, and you feel a bit thrown. 

“Curious is an understatement,” you admit tentatively. “I want to see everything. I read so much… I never dreamed of seeing any of it in person. It was never a possibility, not even as a wild fantasy. And now I’m here.”

The prince’s tiny smile grows sideways, just a little. “Very well,” he says, putting his hands on his knees, businesslike. “I’ll make time to let you experience Infracticus - safely. With me.” 

You look at him, wide-eyed. You’d entered this room thinking you were going to be sent home, and instead it seems like the crown prince is offering to take you sight-seeing. 

“Really?” you ask. “You’ll do that?” You try not to ask why, but it’s clear in your voice anyway.

He nods once, still quite serious. “You’re not here as a prisoner,” he says, suddenly not looking at you. “I don’t want you to feel like one. You’ve given up quite a lot and put yourself in a dangerous situation to help me with my problem. It seems fair that you should get some enjoyment out of being here.”

Your brow furrows. “I’m here to do a job for you,” you say seriously. “I don’t want you to think that I’m just… vacationing.”

He nods, his expression clearing, like you’ve said something that alleviates a worry. “Perhaps,” he suggests, “I could escort you safely around the palace grounds so you don’t feel so cooped up, and we could discuss the curse as we walk. That way we can consider our time spent productively.”

You nod. “That sounds reasonable.”

He gives a tight, agreeable smile. “Well then,” he says, “anything you’d particularly like to see?”

Tentatively, you venture, “Well… I’d like… could we… could I see the amarisca up close?”

A smile does cross his face, now, full and genuine, the first one you’ve seen on him. It changes him entirely, takes him from something cold and frightening to boyish and sweet. “That’s an excellent choice,” he says, still smiling. “We can go to my private stable. I’m afraid that tonight I’ve got to show my face back with the court families… but, tomorrow?”

You nod, hardly believing this turn of events. He rises, setting his goblet back where it came from, and you follow him to his doors.

With four of his guards flanking you, he walks you back to your rooms. As you try to keep pace with him up one of the long, stone corridors, he asks you, “From our conversation this morning… do you have any thoughts about…?”

He trails off, clearly not wanting to say the curse out loud now that you’re back inside and surrounded by other Infracti, even if they are his own staff. 

“Nothing very substantial,” you answer automatically, sliding easily into professional mode. “The first step is to identify all the threads - then, we can begin to work out the most effective way to unravel them.”

He goes quiet for the length of time it takes you to climb two staircases. Then, at the top, he says quietly, “That sounds impossible. How can you identify things you can’t even see?”

“There are ways,” you say, trying to sound confident - competent. “Magic always talks - you just have to know what to listen for.”

He doesn’t respond to this, but you watch his jaw tighten. Nervously, you follow him in silence. 

He stops you around the corner from your quarters. “How did you get past Dansoo and Satuel in the first place?” he asks curiously. “It’s not like either of them to get distracted.”

You avoid his gaze, suddenly fascinated with a decorative vase to your right. He says your name again, and you cringe, wishing you could disappear on the spot.

“I… sort of used magic to distract them,” you admit, unable to make yourself look up at him.

The prince doesn’t respond to this, just watches you out of the corner of his eyes, expression flat. 

You wonder if it was a mistake to admit that, a mistake to show your hand - that you had a decent grasp of magic, that you could use it against them if you needed to.

You should have used magic with the Infracti earlier, you think belatedly. You’d been too panicked to think clearly. It wasn’t instinct to you - your fight or flight hadn’t considered it an option. But it may have worked.

“I have to ask you to please not let this happen again,” he says quietly. “I understand what lured you out - but it’s too unsafe. For both of us. If you want to go somewhere, or you need a change of scenery… have Satuel get me. I’ll do my best to accommodate.”

You look at your feet. “I’m sorry I risked your secret,” you say to your shoes. “I really wasn’t trying to. I really thought no one would notice me.”

“Now you know differently,” he says, and you shiver at the cold edge that’s returned to his voice. “Promise me it won’t happen again.”

You can’t look up from your feet. “Yes, Maiesti,” you promise. 

He sighs. “Come on,” he says, and leads you around the final corner.

The looks on Dansoo and Satuel’s faces when they recognize you would be funny if you didn’t feel so bad about it. You hope they aren’t in trouble.

“A little tip,” the prince says to them, and you swear there’s humor in his tone. “This one uses magic quite well.”

He wishes you goodbye and you slip inside, closing and locking the door behind you.

Inside, Namjoon looks up from the couch, where he’s lounging sideways, scribbling in a tiny notebook. Upon seeing you, he frowns, closing the book and sitting up.

“Where did you go?” he asks, and there’s definitely an edge of annoyance in his tone. “I woke up and you were gone - I didn’t know if we’d been summoned and I’d slept through it, or if something bad happened…”

You feel yourself go cold with shame for the second time that evening. “I thought I’d be back before you were up,” you say quietly. “I wanted to walk a little. I wanted to explore the palace.”

His eyes flash. “Do you have any idea the danger -?”

“Of course I do,” you shoot back hotly. “I was only going for a minute.” And I got found in that minute, you think, but you’re not sure if he knows this and you don’t want to rat on yourself.

“Let me ask you this,” Namjoon says, tone stony. “When you were in the rainforest with my grandfather, did you go exploring there? Alone?”

Of course you hadn’t. He knows the answer already.

“So how is this different?” he challenges. “What’s the difference?”

I hadn’t spent ten years studying the rainforest. I wasn’t half in love with the trees before I got there. 

Again, you fail to put words to what’s in your heart: your life has revolved around studying this place of fantasy, never dreaming you could put your hand on it someday. Now that you’re here, you want to experience it, every bit of it. You want to be part of it so badly it aches.

“Fewer poison frogs here,” you mumble. 

Namjoon softens. “Fewer blood-sucking monsters there,” he points out. 

You press your lips together. You have no good retort for that. After a minute, you release a quick breath. “Let’s order our dinner,” you say. “Then I’d like to work on our list of threads for a little longer.”

He nods silently, but you can tell by his face that he has plenty more he thinks he could say and is choosing not to.

“Sure,” he says. “Let’s get dinner.”

Later, when your meal winds down and you start stacking dishes, you nudge him with your elbow, lightly.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “It was a mistake to go.”

He nudges you back with a little smile, then rises and gathers some plates. It seems, for now, that you’re forgiven. 

-

Taehyung misses the meal, but it’s no matter - he can order bloodfood to his own chambers. He’d prefer that, anyway. 

In his own chambers, he doesn’t have to force himself awake and attentive. Truthfully, he’s been so tired he can hardly stand it, using salves to hide the bags under his eyes. 

Under the curse, he doesn’t sleep from midnight to dawn, his body instead spending those hours launching into overdrive, trying fruitlessly to escape his confines, to get out, to hunt. He wakes sore and spent each sunrise, his limbs begging for reprieve, and tries to rest for a few hours before his day begins. 

Sleep never comes, no matter how exhausted he is. Or, if it comes, it doesn’t last, not long enough to matter.

As the nights continue in this way, he feels like he has less and less strength to fake it during the day. He feels like he’s existing on spite and bitterness alone, brittle and seconds from crumbling into jagged, splintery pieces. 

By the time he reaches the hall where the court families take dinner, most of the crowd has dispersed. It seems his mother has led most of the women outside, where they gather near the edge of the wide balcony and look together at the skies. There must be celestial movement, he figures, something happening with the planets that’s warranted their attention. 

He makes his way towards his father, knowing he needs to be seen here. His father quirks an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask the question Taehyung knows he wants to ask.

“Had to handle something,” Taehyung murmurs quietly. “My apologies.”

His father looks at him steadily for a minute, the conversation flowing around them. There’s been a lot between the two of them lately, and most of it ugly. But, for just a minute, Taehyung feels small again, like his father could - and might want to - solve his problems, offer him comfort. 

And the King surprises him. 

“You should go rest,” he says firmly, and Taehyung looks up at him, shocked. “There’s nothing pressing happening tonight. Rest while you can. You missed the meal, anyway - you ought to eat. You need your strength.”

Taehyung inclines his head, so grateful that he’s almost choked up about it. On his way from the room, he catches Jimin’s eye, and his best friend hurries to come keep stride with him.

“Ooh, am I excused, too?” Jimin asks, mock excitedly. 

“I say you are,” Taehyung smiles sideways. “So you are. Make sure I don’t faint on my way to my rooms. At least where there are witnesses.”

After ordering what food he wants brought to him, Taehyung flops on the couch and groans loud and long. 

Jimin flops into a chair near Taehyung’s feet. “Has your father started in about her yet?”

Taehyung is so puzzled that he lifts his head to peer curiously at the other man. “What?”

“The curse-breaker,” Jimin clarifies. “I saw how you were with her.”

Taehyung scowls. “I wasn’t like anything with her. I can have you removed, you know.”

“You can, but you won’t,” Jimin grins like the cheshire cat. “So? He hasn’t?”

“What makes you think he’d care about her?” Taehyung grouses.

Jimin shrugs. “Your father’s been throwing suitors at you for at least a month,” he observes. “Now you got this skilled curse-breaker right under your nose. She’s pretty. Seems to like you alright. I just figured it was only a matter of time before he started scheming.”

Taehyung groans again, dropping his head back to the couch. “He hasn’t started yet. Maybe I’m safe.”

Jimin makes a hum like he very much doubts it. “Consider my surprise when you were kind to her.”

“Consider,” Taehyung shoots back, eyes narrowed, “what a pain in my ass you are. I was never unkind to father’s… the suitors he picked.”

“Perhaps not,” Jimin muses. “But you weren’t warm, either. You seemed quite worried about her after her little incident.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung grumbles. “If you’re just here to push my buttons, you can leave. I’d rather get some sleep than listen to your nonsense.”

Jimin glances at the marble and gold clock on the mantle. “You could get in a few hours,” he points out. “Do you want to sleep? I’ll wake you before midnight.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Thank you, but no,” he says. “I’m too… I’ve got too much energy right now.”

It’s true; he feels keyed up, has since he accidentally stumbled upon you pressed against that statue, eyes wide and heart hammering. He’d heard it from around the corner, knew something was wrong, had willed himself to stay calm and steady. 

He’d almost gained his salvation and lost it, all in the same day. 

—

The prince shows up the next night after you’ve finished dinner, having sent word to your guards that you should be ready. When Satuel opens the door and announces him, you’re expecting him. You’re not expecting to find him draped in a hooded black cloak, exactly like the ones you and Namjoon had been asked to wear the night you’d arrived. Prince Taehyung holds one out to you, and you don’t argue.

You’d explained to Namjoon what the prince had offered you, and extended an invitation, but he’d declined. As you leave, he watches you carefully, sharp eyes watching the door close behind you.

Prince Taehyung leads you silently down corridors and staircases; you can’t really tell where in the palace you are, but you are definitely going down. As you travel, you notice fewer furnishings - paintings on the walls become fewer and farther between, the lighting on the walls become more plain, you stop passing little console tables decked with flowers and vases. 

A lone guard stands at the beginning of the final corridor - you can see closed doors at the end of the hall that must lead outside - and he bows deeply upon seeing Prince Taehyung. 

“We should be returning within the hour,” the prince tells him, and the guard nods in understanding. The prince leads you to the doors, pushing through them and holding one open as you follow him out into the night air. 

You know in theory that although the human world is considered above and Infracticus is considered below they are not physically so. A more accurate picture, if it was possible to make one, would have the worlds hovering side by side. They link pinkies, never drifting too far from each other. 

Right now, that sky is dark and littered with flickering stars - more than you ever saw in the human world, more than you thought could be possible in a finite amount of space.

Prince Taehyung pushes off his hood as soon as the night air envelopes you. You can see lights from a small building down below, and he points to them.

“We’re heading there,” he says. “There are stairs - I’ll help you. I know you can’t see that well in the dark.”

Unlike him. 

“I get the cloak for me,” you say, as he leads you to the edge of the stone walkway where the stairs must begin. “But why for you?”

He shrugs. “Just in case. The guards need to know where I am, of course, but no one else needs to. The court families tend to be quite… nosy. Gossip tends to spread.”

This makes you smile. Then, the smell hits you - salt. Specifically, sea spray. 

“Are we near the ocean?” you ask, delighted. You wish it wasn’t dark out so you could see. You wonder if you could ask him to bring you during the day.

He makes an affirmative noise low in his throat. “The stables all back up to the sea,” he tells you. “So the amarisca can have access to the water.”

“Smart,” you observe. 

Prince Taehyung pauses on the first step, then turns and holds out a hand to you.

You hesitate. It seems wrong, somehow - like it shouldn’t be allowed. 

“They’re slippery,” he tells you. “Let me help you so you don’t get hurt.”

You nod, swallowing, and hesitantly place your hand in his. It’s ridiculous the way it makes your heart race to touch his hand. You hope, swallowing back embarrassment, that he can’t hear it. You’re sure he can. Still, he holds your hand firmly and guides you carefully down one step at a time, glancing up at you frequently to gauge how you're faring. 

He waits at the bottom as you take the final step; your feet sink into loose, dry sand. The rhythmic crash of breaking waves greets you, closer than you expect, and you breathe in the sea air happily.

“I wish my rooms were here,” you say without thinking, and the prince looks at you thoughtfully. 

“If you are here for longer than - rather, if the curse takes very long to break,” he says seriously, “then perhaps we’ll arrange that.”

You go quiet as he leads you up the beach, the lights from the stable growing brighter as they get closer. 

“I feel like you’re being nicer to me than I deserve,” you admit, the darkness making you bolder. “I know that I really messed up yesterday.”

He shakes his head, halting and turning to look at you through the dark. You can barely make out his features, here away from the glow of the palace’s many lights, surrounded by the crash of ocean waves and the calls of gulls. “You’re a guest here. And we’re asking a lot of you. I should have offered you the chance to look around in the first place.”

You go quiet, focusing on the sound of the ocean, the smell of the salt air. “I’m still sorry,” you murmur.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he tells you seriously. “I need you. My life has been… absolutely destroyed by this curse. I’ll do whatever I can to make your time here better. Your well-being is the most worthwhile investment I’ve had in six hundred years.”

There are two Infracti at the stable, and they leap to attention when they see the prince. 

“Do you want her saddled?” one of them asks.

“No,” Prince Taehyung says, holding out a staying hand. “I’m not taking her out to ride tonight.”

He asks them to be at ease and leads you inside. The smell of hay and feed mixes with the smells of the ocean, and it takes you a moment to adjust. 

“There’s a larger stable on the other side of this hill,” Prince Taehyung tells you, stepping up to the single stall door. “That’s where the rest of the amarisca are kept, and the court families can use those stalls when they come and go. But this stable is just for me.”

The amarisca in the stall greets him by pressing her dark teal snout affectionately into his open palm. 

He smiles unfettered, cheeks rising, and something in your chest moves as you watch them. 

“This is Potato,” he tells you, and you laugh out loud, surprised. 

“You named your amarisca Potato?” you ask, still laughing.

He grins. “Her official name is Regency’s Sweet Potato, but she won’t answer to that.”

“She’s so beautiful,” you breathe, inching closer. “I never dreamed I’d see one up close. I never dreamed I’d see one in person at all.” 

Again, Prince Taehyung looks at you sideways, but doesn’t interrupt. He shifts sideways so you can draw a little closer. 

“Do you want to pet her?” he asks.

You think about it, then shake your head. “Not yet.”

He looks at you quizzically.

How to explain - that you don’t feel like you deserve this dream coming true, after what a fool you were yesterday? That something deep within you feels the need to keep the dream just a dream, that if you touch her it’ll be real and it’ll be over and you can’t dream about it anymore? 

“You read about all these things,” you try to explain, eyes on the animal’s beautiful coat, “but never see them - it starts to feel like they’re mythical, make-believe. Seeing them in person… my brain still wants to believe they aren’t real. Like this must be some trick.”

It’s not a full explanation, it doesn’t really answer the question he didn’t ask, but you do feel like you’re telling him something.

“Us, too?” he asks curiously. “Do Infracti seem made-up, too, until you’re standing with them?”

You consider this. “Standing with them,” you finally answer quietly, very aware that you are standing with him, alone, “doesn’t make me feel like I’m seeing something my mind didn’t believe in. My mind just…accepts you as human. Usually.”

“That’s been your biggest mistake since you got here,” he says, and his voice is suddenly much darker. “And it’s the mistake that will get you killed, if you don’t stop making it. Infracti are not human. And they are not all as scared of the protection laws as you might want them to be.”

Goosebumps fly up your arms as the image of the Infracti who’d cornered you in the palace rises in your mind.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m starting to get that.”

A bit later, he says, “Let’s go back. I have some business to attend to tonight before I… before midnight.”

You step back reluctantly from Potato’s stall, and he seems to clock this.

“Next time I’ll bring something for you to feed her,” he suggests, and you can’t help but give him a small smile.

Next time? Is he planning on walking alone with you around the palace grounds on a regular basis? 

You’re afraid to ask. You’re afraid he’ll say yes, make you feel even guiltier for all the kindness he’s affording you. 

<- Prev

thank you so much for reading!! lots more to come!

can we start headcannoning them now pls

mobius' lokis

These 3 aare my babies and I will protect them with my life 

i love them, your honor

❝ you know, i actually thought you’d be dead by now. ❞ 🪐 — @smokedanced ▶ izzy hands for stede bonnet

          ❝ WELL, I'M SORRY TO DISAPPOINT YOU. ❞ stede can't help but puff himself up as he speaks, pride at the single successful raid they had carried out with the new crew configuration causing confidence to bloom in his chest. the crew themselves seemed to be adapting to the arrangement rather nicely ( & clearly there was no love lost between them & edward, given all they had endured these past months ), most of them now scattered across the deck divvying up the loot without complaint. izzy seemed to be the lone holdout, remaining stubbornly bitter & impossible to please — despite surprising stede with by voting along with the rest of the crew for ed to be banished from the ship. the look of perpetual irritation on his face had become almost comforting in its own way, a reliable constant to count on as they found their footing again. 

                            not that he would ever say as much out loud. instead, he turns away from the other man to gaze out at the sea through his spyglass. the horizon stretches unbroken, not another ship nor a speck of land in sight. & even still basking in the glow of of his recent success, stede is starting to feel restless again. the truth is that concern about where ed is & what he might be doing seeps back into his mind the moment the action falls quiet, no matter what he does. but stede pushes the thoughts away with some force — ed simply couldn’t stay here, not when everyone aboard still distrusted him so. he knew that. but he also knew that they would find each other again. & for now, his place was here : with his crew.

yet despite being returned to his station as captain at last, despite a successful raid under his belt, stede finds he has little clue what he should be doing in these quiet moments when the sea is calm. with ed banished & buttons gone, izzy is certainly the most qualified sailor aboard. & loathe as stede was to admit it, the man was rather good at his job. the honest truth was that stede likely couldn’t do this without izzy's help. yet he doesn't know how to ask for such a thing, the man's foul attitude making any conversation challenging to broach. ❝ you know, it’s quite poor form for the first mate to be actively rooting for his captain’s death, don't you think ? ❞ he says, irritated & still unwilling to look at the man beside him. ❝ why even stay aboard if that's how you feel ? just hoping to be around to bear witness to my inevitable failure, is that it ? ❞

CALYPSO TWINS

New cloneOC thought:

CT-5050 ,

name CHANCE

morning snuggles with little shoobie

A snicker leaves Chaz, her hands in her pockets as she eyes the slice with curiosity. “You know, uh, I can’t afford to be that picky nowadays, now can I?” Besides germ theory, but… she was no medical doctor. She shrugs, offering out a hand to take the pizza. “Is it good? All you’ve ever, um, hoped for in a pizza pie? It sure looks interesting, I mean…maybe it’ll change my, uh, palate.” For the better, hopefully.

@strangeattract gets to try pizza

"That's exactly it!" George enthused, pleased to find someone so smart willing to put up with the scattershot nature of his own mind. "You see! It's a meal, and a dessert. Right there in the name, pizza pie. Genius, really." He strode up to the pizza vendor, gave up his penny and plucked a slice from the man's hat. "You're not finicky about hygiene, I hope?" he asked Chaz as he took a bite out of a pizza slice that had obviously already seen a customer.

“  i’ll be okay but i’m gonna need to get this bandaged and fast.  ”

injury prompts // @sxrgeantbarnes

TK knows better than to take Bucky at his word. They've trained together for years; he knows what's Bucky like on- and off-field. Knows that despite the cocky and flirty behavior, Bucky is usually very dedicated to the mission. His request for TK to only quickly bandage a damn slash wound on his arm proves as much.

"Alright." God, he's going to regret this, but even TK has to admit that they can't just give up now. Not with a deadline this close.

Gently, but with a forcefulness that gives Bucky no choice in the matter, TK tilts the other's face towards him with the hand that isn't pressing a gauze to the wound. When their eyes meet, TK can't help but smile. It's automatic, instinctual, and TK likes to think it's the same reassuring smile he gives all of his patients, but deep down he knows better than that.

"One hour," he stresses, and the smile disappears to make place for a more serious expression. The gauze is slowly staining red and TK increases the pressure. "I'm going to bandage this real tight and then you're coming back to see me in one hour."

I HAVENT SEEN ENOUGH PEOPLE FREAKING OUT ABOUT ANDREW GARFIELD ON CHICKEN SHOP DATE

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE IM SO EXCITED OMD