#trystan thorne

Her fingers pressed into his shoulder, earning her a soft moan from the former prince sitting between her legs as she massaged deeper into his toned skin. His head lolled back, eyes closed as he melted beneath her touch. She indulged him a few minutes longer. Any other morning, she would have given him a harder time, but today, she would pamper him a bit... after all, it was his birthday.

"I could get used to this," he teased, a growing smirk on his face. “If this whole crime-solving thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a backup career.”

"And here I thought I'd finally found the secret to keeping your pretty mouth shut for a few minutes," she offered dryly. Her arms snaked around his neck, massaging lightly down his chest. "Hard to believe that arrogant royal partyboy whose only concern was himself and to be honest still is a little bit full of it—"

"Is this going somewhere remotely positive?" Trystan interrupted. 

"All in good time," she teased before continuing, "—actually turned out to be half-decent."

"Only half?" His brow raised to challenge.

"Maybe three-quarters." Her smile filled her face, reaching her eyes. Not something she had been used to for many years, but something that had returned with him. "Try not to let this go to your head." She brushed a tender kiss on his forehead. "But, I love you, Trystan, and I am so very proud of who you've become. A three-quarters decent man who has come so far. Still is a little cocky, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

"That's quite the declaration, detective." He turned into her, his hand inching her face closer to his. "Good thing I had the perfect partner to whip me into shape—"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" 

"Is that not the correct American phrase?" he teased, pulling back slightly. "If you read into it anything else, then I think that says more about you than me."

She rolled her eyes, letting a slight sigh slip from her lips. "Is it too late to revert back to half decent?"

"Yup. That declaration of undying love? Sorry, non-refundable. Besides, it's my birthday, you're legally obligated to celebrate me."

"Is that so?" Her lips pressed together, her head tipping to the side. "And, undying?"

"It is, and that's what I heard. Oh! and most importantly, it also means I get what I want too."

"This day already sounds exhausting." She shifted slightly toward the bed. "Better go back to sleep, wake me when this arduous day is over."

Trystan wrapped her in his arms, guiding her back to him. "Too late, you love me, and it turns out, I love you too, sarcasm and all!"

* * * * 

“Thank you for coming!” Emily said, a hand over her forehead. She paced around the apartment like a chicken with its head cut off. The floorboards creaked with each stomp. “I was just trying to trim my goddamn bangs and–”

“Slow down! How bad is it?” 

Ruby shut the front door. Hair shears sat on the coffee table beside some leftovers. Emily dropped it half-hazardly in the sink once Ruby locked eyes with the day-old ramen. Remnants of Emily’s impulsivity were scattered in front of a full-length mirror. 

“Bad!” She scratched her neck with her other hand. The floors went quiet. “I was–uh–thinking of asking Mags for help, but I didn’t…”

“Didn’t wanna look…?” 

“Even worse? Yeah. Sorry–”

“No, I get it. The gown for the Iverson Ball? I didn’t exactly–” 

“Right? Anyways. Please do not laugh at me. Please.”

Emily unveiled her forehead, bowl-cut bangs out on display. Ruby sucked in a laugh. 

“Well. I can see much more of your forehead.” 

“God! It’s horrendous. Are these even bangs?” 

“Microbangs. Definitely microbangs.” 

Emily groaned into her hands. “What detective has fucking microbangs?” 

“You do! And you look great!” 

“Can you fix it?” 

“You think I can fix two inches of hair?” 

“Ruby.” 

“I mean, I can even them out, but that’s about it. You’re just gonna have to grow them out. Or…” She grabbed the shears with a smirk. 

“Or what?” 

“When was the last time you got a haircut?” 

She shrugged. “I’ve had the same hair since I was fourteen. I trim the ends when it gets too long.” 

“Have you ever thought about changing it up? I mean, it’s been almost twenty years.” 

“Please do not remind me of my age.” She crossed her arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’ve definitely thought about it. When I was in college, I thought about getting a mullet. Never got around to it. Obviously.” 

Ruby tapped her foot, still smirking. 

“What?” 

“It’s never too late. You can always change it up!”

Emily fiddled with the cabinet knob. Seventeen years flew by, and all it left was stagnation. Eight years of grinding away at school. Two years of Holbeck and Morris’ shitty quips. Seven bodies worth investigating. To hell with that!

She grinned. “You know what? Give me a mullet.” 

“Yay!” Ruby squealed. “Now, please sit.” 

Emily sat criss-cross in front of the mirror, the living room rug nipping at her ankles. Ruby sat behind her, running her hands through her hair. Disheveled and choppy, like a bed skirt torn at the edges. Ruby separated it into sections with the bobby pins splattered across the ground. She maneuvered to her side, trimming her bangs. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair down.” 

Emily scoffed. “Not true! Remember when we went to Katana Kitten? You spent the night here. I always sleep with it down.” 

“Ha! Sharp memory. That was like, four years ago.” 

“Mind of a steel trap and all that.” 

Ruby combed out the bangs, stomach grumbling. “God. I want garlic wings.” 

“You ever been to Boka?”  

She shook her head, now sitting behind Emily. 

“Theirs are pretty good. All you can eat. Would you wanna go tomorrow?”

“That’ll be fun!” Ruby said, cutting rows of vertical lines at the back of Emily’s hair. “It’s been a while since we’ve had dinner at the boss’s house.” 

“Mafalda’s too busy playing soccer mom. Maybe we can do it next month.” Emily played with the hem of her sweater. “You’ve been busy. What’ve you been up to?”

“Oh, you know. Lots of work. Last month, I went to a medical examiners’ conference in Albany. Did a four-hour forensic sculpture workshop.” 

“Sounds riveting.”

“Quite. I’ve also been writing some…stuff.” 

Emily raised a brow. “Really? Has Luke finally gotten you into journaling?” 

“Pft! No. I’ve actually been writing about you. And Trystan.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“It’s fun! Since I stopped reading Nick Bastion, I’ve been writing short stories about you two. Beating up bad guys, solving crimes. Stuff like that.” 

“Oh, my God!” She laughed. “That’s fucking amazing. What was the last one you wrote about?” 

“Remember the culatello robbery?” 

Emily snorted. “That was crazy. I had to chase that old lady for five blocks! You think you’d ever let me read it?” 

“Hm. Maybe. I’ll think about it.” Ruby zhuzhed up Emily’s hair, shifting the front layers around until it framed her face. “And…I…am…done! What do you think?” 

A tornado swept through Emily’s head, leaving both short and oblong layers in its wake. The two-inch bowl-cut bangs were no more, replaced with wispy ones that curtained out. Everything else was unkempt, strands choppy and tousled. She grinned from ear to ear. 

“I love it. Ruby, you’re amazing!” 

“Thanks! I tried my best.” 

The front door opened, a gust of wind blowing through the living room. Trystan barged in, hands behind his back. 

“Hello–oooo-oooo!” He glanced at the two women. “Emily! You look magnificent. What is the saying – business in the front, party in the back? Now I can kiss your forehead and not have to move your bangs.” 

“Aw, shucks.” She pecked his cheek. “You hiding something back there?” 

Trystan pulled out a box of pastries. “I stopped by our spot. Your favorite’s back, by the way.” 

Emily bit into a hojicha-filled donut, still warm and pillowy. She hummed. “It’s delishush, fhanksh.”  

Trystan chuckled. “You’re as graceful as ever.”

“You’re as grasheful as ehver.” 

“Ruby!” Trystan pointed the box at her. “Can I tempt you?” 

“You don’t even have to ask.” She grabbed a mango tart, adorned with a glazed raspberry and a sprig of mint. 

“Did you give her the mullet?” 

“Mhmph,” she mumbled between bites. 

“You’re quite talented. Mags would cut my hair when we were teenagers–well, when I was a teenager. She was nine or so. I looked absolutely marvelous.”

Emily and Ruby snickered.

“What?” 

“Nothing!” Emily shook her head, laughing. “Don’t even worry about it.” 

* * * * a/n: emily is my silly little friend with a mullet! i figured it was about time she had a little change...thank you for reading! ♡

tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesmcappreciationweek @choicesjulychallenge2026 @jerzwriter @jahrobin @urcowboygirlfriend @calisomnia @tessa-liam @dutifullynuttywitch @juudaimes-true-form @im-the-galactic-starfish @tinytimism @loreofyore (if you’d like to be removed or added to my tag list, please let me know!)

Brothers-in-Arms Series

Snow Wars, Prequel

Summary:  Liam, Drake, Maxwell, Olivia, Leo, and Trystan engage in a spirited snowball fight during their winter stay in Lythikos. What begins as a friendly challenge quickly turns into an epic battle, filled with strategy, laughter, and good-natured rivalry.  

On a crisp winter morning in Lythikos, eight-year-old Prince Liam gazed out of the frosted window of Lythikos keep. The fresh snowfall blanketed the landscape in a shimmering white, and an idea sparked in his young mind. 

 “Snow fort,” he whispered to himself, eyes lighting up with excitement. 

Rushing to his quarters, Liam rummaged through his suitcases until he found ‘The Young Adventurer’s Guide to Winter Fun’. A gift from his mother, Liam flipped through the pages, he stopped at a detailed diagram of a snow fort, complete with instructions on stacking snow bricks and carving tunnels. 

“This is perfect!” Liam exclaimed excitedly, clutching the book tightly and rushing back down the grand staircase. 

 He quickly found his best friends, nine- year-old Drake and eight-year-old Maxwell, in the keep's cozy sitting room. Drake, the practical and steady son of a palace guard, was warming his hands by the fire, while Maxwell, always brimming with energy, was busy fashioning a makeshift sled from a serving tray. 

“Who’s up for building the greatest snow fort in Cordonia?” Liam announced with a grin, holding up the book like a treasure map. 

Drake, ever the skeptic, raised an eyebrow. “A snow fort? Isn’t that for kids?” 

“Drake, we are kids,” Maxwell chimed in, already excited. “I’m in!” 

“Looks like we have a deal,” Liam said, clapping his hands. “Let’s divide into teams!"

Olivia, sitting quietly with her hot cocoa, perked up. “I’ll be on Liam’s team!” she declared, her cheeks turning pink. At seven years old, Olivia was already fiercely loyal to Liam, even if it was mostly because she had a budding infatuation with him. 

“First,” Liam said, flipping the book open to the diagram, “we need to make snow bricks. The book says to pack snow into molds to make them strong.” 

Drake, ever the realist, crossed his arms. “Molds? We don’t have molds.” 

“Not a problem,” Liam said confidently. “We’ll use whatever we can find—buckets, pans, anything.” 

 Armed with pots, pans, and boundless enthusiasm, the three boys and Olivia ventured into the snowy expanse and trekked to the edge of the icy lake near the keep, followed by several Royal guardsmen. The air was cold and crisp, their laughter echoing as they began packing snow into their makeshift molds. 

Maxwell, already covered in snow from head to toe, announced loudly, “I’m the official Chief. Brick. Maker!” 

 Drake rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Fine but make them sturdy. No crumbling bricks.” 

Meanwhile, Olivia took charge of decorating the fort with pine branches and icicles, making it “look royal.” Adding a small Cordonian flag attached to a stick, she propped it into a turret top.

Hours passed as the boys stacked their snow bricks into walls. Liam, with the book propped open nearby, directed the construction like a young architect. Drake ensured the walls were straight and stable, while Maxwell worked on a tunnel inside the fortress walls.  

By the time the sun began to dip behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains, the fort was complete. It stood tall and proud, with sturdy walls, a small entrance, and even a snowball arsenal inside. 

 “We did it!” Liam declared, his cheeks flushed with triumph. 

 Maxwell flopped onto the snow, exhausted but grinning. “This is the greatest thing we’ve ever built!” 

Drake leaned against the fort’s wall, nodding in agreement. “Not bad, Your Highness. Not bad at all.” 

 As the evening settled over Lythikos, the four friends sat inside their creation, sharing stories and sipping hot chocolate brought out by the keep’s kitchen attendants. For that moment, the snow fort wasn’t just a fort—it was their Kingdom, a place where adventure and friendship reigned supreme. 

><><>< 

 The winter sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered grounds of the keep. Crown Prince Leo and Crown Prince Trystan of Drakovia stepped out of the black SUV, their boots crunching in the freshly fallen snow. It had been a grueling day of lessons—diplomatic protocols, strategic warfare, and a particularly tedious lecture on trade agreements—but now, finally, they were free. The sixteen-year-old young men were having military lessons at the army stronghold nearby. 

 As they walked towards the main entrance of the keep, Trystan nudged Leo with his elbow. "Looks like someone’s been busy," he said, pointing in the direction of the lake. 

Leo followed Trystan’s gaze and smirked. Beside the outline of the frozen lake stood a grand snow fort, its walls expertly packed and reinforced, with small openings that served as lookout points. Surrounding it were scattered piles of snowballs, clearly prepped for an impending battle. From behind the fort's walls, they spotted movement—Liam’s blond hair peeked out, followed by Drake’s unmistakable silhouette and they heard Maxwell’s exuberant laugh. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Leo replied with a grin. “Let’s show them why we’re the older brothers,” as they moved toward the lake. 

 Without another word, the two princes bent down, scooping up handfuls of snow to form their own ammunition. Trystan was already calculating strategy. “We’ll flank them—split up and take the high ground. They won’t know what hit them.” 

 Leo chuckled. “Or, we could just charge in and cause chaos. That’s more fun.” 

 “Chaos it is,” Trystan agreed, and with that, the battle was on. 

Behind the fort walls, Liam crouched low with Drake and Maxwell. “They’ve seen us,” Liam said, his voice tinged with excitement. “Stick to the plan.” 

 Drake, ever the strategist, nodded. “We’ve got the fort’s protection. Maxwell, you’re our wildcard. Keep them distracted.” 

 Maxwell saluted dramatically. “Distraction is my specialty.” 

As Leo and Trystan advanced, Maxwell popped up from behind the fort, holding a massive snowball. “Incoming!” he yelled, hurling it with all his might. The snowball arced through the air, landing harmlessly a few feet from Trystan, who retaliated with a well-aimed shot that splattered snow across Maxwell’s face. 

“Direct hit!” Trystan cheered. The battle began with a flurry of snowballs flying through the air. Laughter echoed across the courtyard as both teams ducked, dodged, and launched their icy ammunition. 

Leo, meanwhile, launched a barrage of snowballs at Drake, who blocked most of them with an improvised shield of snow. “That’s all you’ve got?” Drake taunted. 

 “Oh, not even close,” Leo replied, sprinting forward and scooping up more snow as he went. He hurled two snowballs at once—one hit Drake’s shoulder, the other narrowly missed Liam. 

 “Nice try!” Liam called out, popping up from his hiding spot to lob a snowball at Leo. It caught him square in the chest, leaving the older prince momentarily stunned. 

“Think we’re being challenged?” Trystan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 “Little brother’s got a good arm!” Leo laughed, brushing snow off his coat. 

Drake proved to be an excellent snowball sniper, hitting his targets with impressive precision. Maxwell, on the other hand, turned every hit into a dramatic fall, faux-claiming to be “mortally wounded” before springing back to life. 

Olivia stuck close to Liam, her aim chillingly accurate, but her real focus on staying by his side. “Liam, watch out!” she cried, tackling him to avoid one of Leo’s well-aimed snowballs. 

“You saved me, Olivia!” Liam said with a grin. 

“Of course I did!” she replied, blushing. 

 The fight continued on with laughter echoing across the grounds. Maxwell, true to his word, caused chaos by running circles around Trystan, throwing snowballs in every direction. Drake held his ground valiantly, while Liam alternated between offense and defense, his precise throws keeping his older brother and Trystan on their toes. 

 Finally, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the princes called a truce. They stood together in the snow, breathless and rosy-cheeked, their earlier lessons and responsibilities momentarily forgotten. 

 “Not bad, little brother,” Leo said, clapping Liam on the shoulder. “But next time, Trystan and I will bring reinforcements.” 

“Bring whoever you want,” Liam replied with a smirk. “We’ll still win.” 

As they walked back to the keep, they exchanged playful jabs and stories of their victory and near-misses. For a brief moment, they weren’t princes with the weight of kingdoms on their shoulders, or children—they were just brothers, and friends enjoying the magic of a winter’s day.

The fun came to an abrupt halt when Queen Eleanor Rys, Liam’s mother, appeared on the scene, her presence regal yet warm. 

“Liam, Leo, and everyone,” she said with a smile. “It’s time to get ready for the ribbon-cutting ceremony in the city.” 

“But we’re in the middle of a war!” Leo protested, his snowball in hand. 

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. “A snowball war can wait. The people of Lythikos are expecting us, Leo.” 

“Olivia, I’d like you to join us,” Eleanor added. “I could use a young lady’s perspective.” 

Olivia’s face fell. She had been looking forward to spending the rest of the day with Liam, and the thought of being separated from him was disappointing. 

Olivia hesitated, glancing at Liam. “Do I have to?” 

Liam crouched down to her level, brushing snow off his gloves. “You’ll have fun, Liv. And I’ll see you later, okay?” 

“Okay,” she mumbled, still reluctant but unable to refuse Liam’s gentle encouragement. 

A Memorable Day ...

As Eleanor led Olivia away to a waiting SUV, the others exchanged knowing smiles. “Looks like we’ll have to finish this battle another day,” Liam said. 

“Next time, we’re building two forts,” Leo declared as he ran inside to change his clothes for the ceremony.

"Or three!" Maxwell added with a laugh.

Despite the interruption, the day had already become one of those cherished childhood memories that none of them would forget. The laughter, camaraderie, and hint of youthful rivalry in the snowy dukedom of Lythikos marked the start of many more adventures to come.

'There's so many different worlds

So many different suns

And we have just one world

But we live in different ones'

❄️Thank you @sazanes @lizzybeth1986 for creating and hosting King Liam Appreciation Week✨️💖✨️ Day 5, Healing

❄️Artwork Commission by /artbyainna

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