LisaPark
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“Game is over,” he says. “You won. I lost. I was annoying. Normal.”
“That’s not—” Shane starts, then stops, because he actually doesn't know how to finish that thought without sounding like an idiot. His jaw works, teeth grinding together.
That's not what I meant. That's not the point. You said I was boring and you were right and I need you to say it again so I know where I stand, so I know what you think of me, so I can stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He settles for: “You were kind of an asshole.”
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Prince Finn Lunare loved once. Recklessly, briefly, and in a summer that did not know how to last; a summer that haunts his dreams and rids him of his sleep.
So he writes down the things he will never say, remembers a boy he loved, and takes to the sky to remind himself he is still alive.
It is beautiful.
It is a mistake.
Finn Lunare is captured.
Bookmarked by LisaPark
26 Jan 2026
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His men would usually set up traps around the perimeter of their base camp of the week in order to catch any stragglers. Sometimes, they’d catch a Lunare foot soldier. Most times, it’s less exciting. A deer, a fox, a boar. That’s what Dane was expecting to see as he patrolled the woods that lie proximal to their camp that night.
What he wasn’t expecting to see Finn Lunare caught in a net up a tree.
Finn gets caught in a trap during a solo midnight reconnaissance. Dane finds him.
Bookmarked by LisaPark
26 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
There is no excuse for me to be reading this at 5 am
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Summary
A memory loss fic where Shane gets hit hard in the head and wakes up in the hospital. He thinks he is 27, sneaking around with Ilya and still in the closet, only to learn that they are married.
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Tears spilled down his mother's cheeks. “No, honey, you’re not twenty seven. You're twenty nine. Almost thirty.”
Shane snorted. “That can’t—”
“It is, sweetheart. And Ilya is…”
She glanced at the door where two large shadows stood just beyond the frosted glass window. The shorter one embraced the much, much taller one.
Shane’s heart started beating frantically in his chest. His head pounded as he tried to take in what he was hearing, tried to process what the fuck his mother was saying to him.
“Ilya,” he squeaked. “Ilya is what?”
“Ilya is your husband.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 65,722
- Chapters:
- 18/?
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Bookmarked by LisaPark
24 Jan 2026
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Summary
“That's all?”
“For now. I need to know what I'm working with.”
“Are you going to choreograph my mastruibation?”
“Yes.” His legs are folded neatly under him, elbows resting on his knees. He waves absently, giving single minded focus to watching Gabin touch himself. “Go on.”
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Gabin and Tobias, post finale.
Or, the transformative power of being fucked so well you see stars.
Series
- Part 1 of I was picking you anyway
Bookmarked by LisaPark
01 Aug 2025