#♚ [ the garden; ]

[world-of-wales]

Catherine’s Royal Closet (71/∞) ♚

↬ Brown Cropped Wool Jacket

This classic equestrian-inspired jacket by Ralph Lauren jacket in brown wool has a structured, cropped fit. It features a suede shoulder panel with notched lapels as well as a button-front closure & flap pockets.

Catherine wore the jacket on : ・ 15.03.2007 - Cheltenham Horse Racing Festival ・ 26.02.2025 - Meadow Street Community Garden

and Woodland

[deadmenandthedivine]

dead men § the divine

table of contents

Lady Rhea Royce gave birth to a single daughter prior to her untimely death.

Princess Maetilda Targaryen was the sole heir to Runestone.

Her father, the Rogue Prince, kept her by his side, ensuring he always had a Keep to his name. Even after his marriage to the heir of the Seven Kingdoms, he refused to accept an engagement for her. Runestone was his castle. Princess Maetilda was his daughter. The Seven Kingdoms was his playground. There only seemed to be one small problem: the Greens.

The Greens occupied the Red Keep for over half a decade while the Rogue Prince and his future Queen raised their children on Dragonstone as tradition. It would seem having the King's castle and the Conqueror's crown plays an advantage when the dragons dance. It became apparent as the virescent cause does not suffer by delivering the first blows.

Despite only holding claims to one of the foundational keeps in the Vale, Princess Maetilda finds herself wrapped up in the center of the conflict. At the mercy of the men around her. Prince Aemond seeks to take what belongs to him, most especially the Rogue Prince's bronze babe.

trigger warning!!! this fic contains many graphic topics and depictions. such as but not limited to: dead parents, abusive parents, toxic family systems, incest, medieval misogyny, forced marriage, threats of assault (sexual § physical), actual assault, sexual situations, eventual smut, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, blood/gore, uxoricide, familicide, PTSD and other neurodivergence. i will do my best to update as i go along, but please let me know if i have missed anything!

✧.*.·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·.*.✧

✫ prologue — rumors from runestone

✫ chapter one — cold landings and green castles

✫ chapter two — a father’s praise

✫ chapter three — mysteries that muddy the keep

✫ chapter four — what the trees see

✫ chapter five — the maids that bloom in spring

✫ chapter six — bound in old magic

✫ chapter seven — the fate of wagging tongues

✫ chapter eight — dead flowers and garden bugs

✫ chapter nine — new leather boots

✫ chapter ten — an old man’s guilt

✫ chapter eleven — the tower tapestry

✫ chapter twelve — drowned in insignificant details

✫ chapter thirteen — the ghost of years coming and years past

✫ chapter fourteen — what the lady beetle does

✫ chapter fifteen — dragons have horns

✫ chapter sixteen — relearning from the same mistakes

✫ chapter seventeen — last suppers and sealed deals

✫ chapter eighteen — a father’s last words

✫ chapter nineteen — when the canary sings

✫ chapter twenty — the weight of aged wings

✫ chapter twenty one — an old man's legacy

part ii coming soon!

✧.*.·:¨ ✘♚✘ ¨:·.*.✧

A/N: i do bend the plot of hotd/tweak the lore of the vale just a lil bit for my own convenience. also i'm not well versed in historical outfits and stuff so my descriptions may not be accurate to the time. but it's gotta be like that sometimes, you know?

[sleekervae]

Monarchs of a Crystal World ♚ (Coriolanus x Sable) 7

Masterlist

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x socialite!fem!reader

Summary: The Reception

Warnings: politicians being politicians, violence, guns, blood, murder

Word Count: 2,471

The reception was nothing short of exquisite. The grand ballroom was bathed in a warm, golden glow, chandeliers casting soft light over tables adorned with fine crystal and floral arrangements of deep purple and white. A string quartet played elegantly in the background, their music weaving seamlessly into the hum of conversation and the occasional clink of glasses. Servers moved fluidly through the room, offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres to well-dressed guests, while the head table remained a focal point of admiration.

Sable, now dressed in an ivory silk gown with a halter neckline, felt the fabric glide effortlessly against her skin as she moved through the crowd. The pleats at the front draped elegantly, flowing into a subtle yet daring slit that grazed her thigh, while the open-back design left a whisper of warmth along her spine. It was lighter than her wedding dress, easier to move in—but no less breathtaking.

Yet, as she stood near the dance floor, offering polite smiles and thanks to guests, her mind was elsewhere.

She hadn’t seen Coriolanus in some time.

“Seline,” she murmured, sidling up to her sister while keeping her smile perfectly in place. “Where did he go?”

Seline, mid-sip of her champagne, arched a brow. “Your husband?” she teased lightly. “He’s not glued to your side for one evening, and you’re already worried?”

Sable shot her a look. “I haven’t seen him in nearly half an hour. And you know Coriolanus—he doesn’t just disappear.”

Seline hummed, following Sable’s gaze as it subtly swept the room. “He was here for the first round of toasts, and then I think he stepped away right before the hors d'oeuvres were served.”

Sable frowned, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass.

“Try to relax, Sable,” Seline assured, lowering her voice slightly. “He probably had to step away for some business. World doesn't stop for your wedding, after all.”

A flicker of unease curled in Sable’s stomach, but she kept her expression neutral, nodding politely at a passing guest who sent her a warm congratulations.

Meanwhile, Governor Mercer adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket, his expression a mix of irritation and feigned confusion as he turned to the security detail flanking him. “Would someone care to explain why I’ve been dragged out here like some common criminal?”

The guards stood impassively, offering no response. The only sound was the distant hum of music and laughter drifting from the reception hall, now nothing more than a glow of warm lights beyond the manicured hedges. The Capitol Gardens, grand and serene, were empty but for the three of them—until the crunch of deliberate footsteps echoed over the stone path.

Mercer turned, his lips parting as Coriolanus emerged from the shadows, Felix a silent figure at his side.

"Governor Mercer," Coriolanus greeted smoothly, hands in the pockets of his tailored tuxedo. His tone was polite—almost cordial—but his sharp blue gaze told an entirely different story.

Mercer straightened, forcing a thin smile. "President Snow. I'd like to extend my—"

"Spare me," Coriolanus cut in, his voice still quiet, but colder now. "You already know why you're here."

A flicker of something passed through Mercer’s eyes—wariness, calculation. But he held firm. “I’m afraid I don’t.”

Felix stepped forward then, producing a neatly folded sheet of paper from his pocket and holding it out. “Then allow me to refresh your memory.”

Mercer hesitated before accepting it, his eyes scanning the words in the dim light. His fingers twitched slightly as he read, but when he finally looked up, his expression had hardened.

"This is absurd," he scoffed. "You think I'd be foolish enough to jeopardize—"

"You were foolish enough to get caught," Coriolanus corrected, taking a slow step forward. “Did you truly believe I wouldn’t uncover the mole in my own government? That I wouldn’t find out about your little arrangement with the rebels?”

Mercer’s jaw clenched. “You have no proof—”

Coriolanus tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something almost amused. "Don’t I?"

Felix, standing just behind his shoulder, smirked. "Turns out, following the money isn’t as complicated as some would like to think."

Mercer opened his mouth to protest, but Coriolanus cut him off with a low, final warning.

"You made a choice, Mercer. Now you live with the consequences."

Mercer barely had time to react before a Peacekeeper, silent and efficient, stepped forward, presenting a sleek, black handgun to Coriolanus.

He accepted it without hesitation.

Mercer took an instinctive step back. “Wait—”

The gunshot rang out, sharp and final, cutting through the quiet hum of the garden. Mercer crumpled instantly, a dark spray marking the pristine stone beneath him. His body twitched once, then stilled, his glassy eyes staring blankly at the star-strewn sky above.

Felix let out a slow breath, adjusting his cuffs as if shaking off the moment. The Peacekeepers, already accustomed to such things, moved in without a word, beginning the process of disposal. The scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air as Coriolanus handed the weapon back, dusting off his gloves with a faint frown of distaste.

“See that he’s cleaned up before the night is out,” he instructed coolly, voice devoid of anything resembling remorse.

As they stepped back onto the grand terrace leading to the reception hall, Felix dusted off his jacket. “Shame,” he murmured, tone dry.

Coriolanus barely spared him a glance. “Make sure I have candidates for a new District Six governor on my desk come Monday.”

Felix nodded, ever dutiful. “Consider it done.”

As they stepped into the reception hall, the shift in atmosphere was almost jarring. The warmth of candlelight, the hum of conversation, the gentle melody of the orchestra—it was a stark contrast to the cold efficiency of what had just transpired outside.

Coriolanus dusted off his sleeves as they approached the reception hall, pausing just before stepping inside. He turned slightly to Felix, who was already angling himself away, no doubt intending to slip off into the night like a ghost.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Coriolanus asked, arching a brow.

Felix hesitated. "My work here is done. Besides, a wedding reception is hardly the place for—"

"You did well today," Coriolanus interrupted, his voice carrying the rare weight of genuine approval. "Join us."

Felix blinked. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if unsure whether to argue or accept the offer. Coriolanus smirked.

“Come now, Felix. Even you must eat.”

Felix exhaled sharply through his nose, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Very well. But if your insufferable cousin tries to drag me onto the dance floor, I’m leaving.”

Coriolanus chuckled and pushed open the doors. The ballroom was alive with celebration—crystal chandeliers casting golden light across the polished floor, laughter ringing out over the clink of glasses, and the orchestra sweeping through a lively melody.

Then he saw her.

Sable stood near the grand table, speaking with Seline and Poppy, her ivory silk dress shimmering as she turned toward the entrance. The moment her eyes landed on him, her entire expression changed—relief washing over her features, her smile lighting up as if the world had finally righted itself.

She started toward him without hesitation. Coriolanus felt Felix shift beside him, as if considering slipping away after all, but before he could, Sable’s gaze flickered to him.

To Felix’s mild surprise, she smiled.

She didn’t know what had happened, what had kept Coriolanus away, but she trusted him. She was simply glad he had returned.

And for once, Coriolanus let himself bask in that warmth.

The clinking of glasses and warm laughter filled the grand hall as dinner wound down, plates being cleared away while guests settled in for the evening’s toasts. At the front of the room, the microphone crackled to life as Poppy stepped up, grinning like she had been waiting all night for this.

Sable immediately groaned under her breath, shaking her head. “I should’ve cut her off at the champagne.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Too late for that.”

Poppy beamed at the crowd, dramatically clearing her throat before beginning.

“So, when Sable told me she was engaged to Coriolanus Snow—” she paused, letting the room absorb the weight of that name “—I thought to myself, Where's the nearest doctor's office?”

Laughter rippled through the hall, and Sable sighed, hiding her face in her hands while Lucretia and Gamma snickered beside her.

"But then I thought, No. It makes sense," Poppy continued, nodding sagely. "Because if there’s one person who can handle someone as tempestuous as our Sable, it’s Coriolanus. And if there’s one person who could possibly keep up with him, it’s her."

Coriolanus lifted a brow, lips twitching as he took a sip of his wine.

Poppy turned her attention back to Sable. "Honestly, Sable, I thought I’d be dragging you out of another whirlwind romance with some artist who barely knew how to pay rent. Instead, you found a man who actually has his life together. A miracle, really."

More laughter. Sable shook her head, but there was no hiding her smile.

"And Coriolanus," Poppy added, "I’d say welcome to the madness, but let’s be honest—you’ve been stuck with us since day one. So, good luck, and try to keep up. To the bride and groom, everybody!"

Glasses raised, cheers erupted, and Poppy took an exaggerated bow before returning to her seat. Sable leaned over as she sat, whispering, “I’m reconsidering our friendship.”

Poppy just grinned. “Too late for that.”

As the laughter settled, Garrison stood from his seat.

Unlike Poppy, he didn’t need to command attention—it simply followed him. The room quieted as he approached the podium, smoothing down the front of his jacket before resting a hand on either side of the stand.

“I’ll keep this short,” he began, voice steady, measured. “Mostly because Coriolanus looks like he’s ready to strangle me if I don’t.”

More chuckles.

“I’ve known Coriolanus for a long time,” Garrison continued, glancing toward him, his expression softer than usual. “I’ve watched him grow, watched him learn, watched him navigate a world that isn’t always kind. And through it all, I’ve seen how determined he is—how fiercely he fights for what he wants.”

His gaze flickered to Sable.

“And then you came along.”

Sable sat up a little straighter, her hand instinctively reaching for Coriolanus’s under the table.

“I’d say you changed him, but that’s not quite right,” Garrison mused. “I think he’s always had this in him—the capacity to love, to want more than power and position. You just made him see it for himself.”

A beat of silence.

Then, with a wry smirk, he added, “And for that, I think we all owe you a drink.”

The room laughed, clinking glasses as Garrison lifted his own.

“To Coriolanus and Sable. May they challenge each other, strengthen each other, and most importantly—keep each other in line.”

The toast was met with cheers, and Coriolanus, ever composed, simply shook his head with a smirk as he clinked his glass against Sable’s.

The music swelled, a soft and romantic melody filling the grand hall as the newlyweds took to the dance floor. All eyes were on them—watching as Coriolanus guided Sable effortlessly, his hand firm on the small of her back, hers resting lightly against his shoulder.

The world around them melted away.

Sable had always been poised, always in control, yet here, in Coriolanus’s arms, she felt weightless. The gentle sway of their bodies, the warmth of his hand through the silk of her dress, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered—it was intoxicating.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, just for her.

She smiled, tilting her head slightly as they moved. “I know.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing absently along her waist. “I see married life hasn’t humbled you.”

“Would you hate me if it did?”

His grip on her tightened just a fraction, his gaze flickering with something unreadable. “Not a chance.”

She felt his lips press briefly against her temple before they continued moving, gliding across the polished floor in perfect sync. The room blurred into a soft golden glow, the murmured admiration of guests fading into the music.

Then—something caught her eye.

A small spot. Barely noticeable, just beneath the crisp white collar of his tuxedo. Sable’s breath hitched, but she didn’t react. She didn’t stiffen, didn’t pull away—only let her fingers ghost over the fabric as they turned. The spot wasn’t large, wasn’t glaring, but it was there.

Blood.

She lifted her gaze back to Coriolanus’s face. His expression remained unreadable, composed as ever, his lips barely curved in the faintest smirk.

Whatever he had been up to before the reception, it wasn’t a conversation for now.

Sable exhaled quietly, pressing closer into him as they danced.

She trusted him.

Whatever had been done, whatever had been necessary—it could wait.

The music played on, wrapping around them like a promise. Coriolanus held Sable close, his grip steady, unwavering. The world watched, but neither of them noticed.

She belonged here, in his arms.

He had spent so much of his life calculating, maneuvering, ensuring he never lost control. But Sable—she had never been part of the plan. She had been unexpected, a force he hadn’t anticipated, and yet, she was the only thing he had ever truly chosen for himself.

And she had chosen him.

As they swayed, the weight of the night, of everything unsaid, settled between them. Sable’s fingers curled against the fabric of his jacket, her touch grounding. She had seen the blood. He knew she had. And yet, she had said nothing.

Trust.

Coriolanus exhaled, letting his cheek rest against her temple for a moment. It was a rare thing, trust. Even rarer in his world. But she had given it freely, and he—he would not squander it.

The whispers of their guests faded, the candlelight flickering around them. The future stretched ahead, uncertain, filled with power and ambition, with choices that would demand sacrifice.

But none of it would be faced alone.

If the world came for them, he would stand before her. If blood needed spilling, his hands would bear the stain.

For her, always.

Sable tilted her head up, eyes searching his as if reading his very soul. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, silent but certain.

His chest tightened. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, soft and lingering, before murmuring against her skin, "I love you."

Her head rested on his chest, listening to the faint thumb of his heart beat, soothing her as she murmured back, "I love you, too."

And as they danced, wrapped in candlelight and quiet certainty, Coriolanus Snow knew—no matter what the future held, no matter the cost—he would protect and cherish Sable Snow.

No matter what.

[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart IV

Jaenara woke up with a pounding heart, her body shivering from the nightmare she just had and last night's events. She glanced at the empty side of the bed where Aemond had slept, feeling a pang of both longing and apprehension. She looked away from the empty spot to see Enith passed out in the armchair in front of the fireplace, Jaenara frowned at the state the maid was in and pushed the covers from her abdomen getting out of bed.

The poor woman's back was probably sore from how she was sleeping, jaenara walked over to Enith and tapped her shoulder but nothing happened so she did it the second time, and nothing happened again, so she grabbed enith's shoulder and shook her causing the young woman to stir and grumble.

"...huh, what," she said drowsily before snorting unladylike as she slowly drifted back to sleep making Jaenara's brows fly up in shock.

"Uh, I...I don't mean to wake you," Both of Enith's eyes snapped open when she heard her lady's voice, jaenara stepped back in surprise as Enith scrambled up off the chair using her fingers to brush her back in place.

"Forgive me, princess," Enith says with her hands clasped in front of her and head bowed, "I didn't mean to fall asleep--"

"It's alright, it happens," Jaenara replied softly making Enith lift her head quickly to look at the young princess.

Enith watched as Jaenara stepped away from her and turned back to the bed before back on and under the covers, Jaenara huffed as she soothed out the blanket before looking at Enith.

"Enith," Jaenara called making the handmaid turn towards her young mistress with wide and curious eyes, "I think I shall have my breakfast in bed," The thought of getting out of bed and getting dressed in only god knows how many layers and just to sit around your quarters doing nothing but reading and looking out the window out to the garden.

"Of course, princess." Enith says coming up to stand at the end of the bed, "Is there anything particular you would like for breakfast, m'lady." Enith asked, making Jaenara think about it for a moment.

"Some crumpets with a bit of honey will be nice." She said.

Enith smiles and nods.

"Crumpets with honey, excellent choice, m'lady." A small smile etched its way onto Jaenara's lips.

As Enith turns away to carry out her mistress's order, Jaenara faces away from the maid to look at the spot she slept in last night. Her mind wandered to last night and everything that happened, jaenara wrapped her arms around herself at the distance memory of Ser Cole's cackle. It made her remember why she needed to see Aemond.

"Enith," Jaenara called suddenly with her eyes remaining on the empty spot, the young maid stopped in the doorway and looked at her mistress, "If you...have the chance..." Jaenara looks over at Enith, "...will you see where my lord husband is." Enith stared at Jaenara for a moment thinking about going against her mistress' wishes, she hadn't been there for long but she could already tell that the prince was no good, but what royalty are.

"Of course, m'lady." Enith finally says making Jaenara nod her head in gratitude before leaning back against the headboard, Enith bows before turning around leaving Jaenara alone with her thoughts.

「                            ⊹₊♚₊⊹                           」

As the morning sun cast a soft glow on the courtyard of the Red Keep, Jaenara spotted Aemond sitting alone on a stone bench, lost in thought. She approached him cautiously, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Aemond, we need to talk."

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and confusion. "Jaenara?" His gaze flickered towards her face, a flicker of something crossing his expression before he quickly masked it. "What do you want to talk about?" He said as he turned his body to look at his wife.

"We will get to that...but first, where were last night?" She questioned, "I woke up and you weren't there, and the same for this morning." Aemond cast his gaze else before he planted his hands on his thighs and stood up.

"I couldn't sleep...so I returned to my old chambers after I went for a walk." He said Jaenara nodded her head slowly thinking why he couldn't return to their chambers, but she didn't want to question him even more than she needed to.

She wasn't there to know where he was last night, but to tell him some terrible news about his mother's knight and his mentor/father figure.

"Why are you asking me all these things, dove," Aemond asked as he walked up to Jaenara making her look up at him nervous.

Summoning all her strength, Jaenara took a deep breath and uttered the words that had been haunting her since the attack. "Aemond...Ser Cole attacked me last night."

It took Aemond a while for the words his wife said to register in his head before a scoff broke out of him making Jaenara frown. "That's impossible. Ser Cole wouldn't do that--"

"Aemond--"

"I have known him since I was a mere boy, Ser Criston is a noble and honorable man. He would never do something so horrible, especially to a princess." Aemond says taking a step forward glaring down at his wife, making Jaenara turn her eyes to the pebble floor, "So, are you telling me that man did something to you, why was he in our quarters." Jaenara looks up at him with tears I'm her eyes.

"I don't know, I woke and you were gone and when I didn't see you in the solar I thought to go look for you but then the door was locked and..." Jaenara couldn't stop rambling, she knew Aemond was going to be mad or even angry but it felt like he was blaming her, "...he unlocked the door he said it was for my protection that it be locked, and started saying things that made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe--"

"Unsafe? What did he say?" Jaenara shrugged her shoulders and tried to remember what Ser Cole said.

"I don't...I can't remember..but it was something about my mother and then he tried to kiss me and..." She trailed in distress shaking her head, she sniffed trying to keep her tears at bay, "...I was scared, aemond." She flicked her teary eyes up at him, aemond stared at her with a blank look contemplating if he believed her or not.

"If he attacked you then where are the bruises, hmm?" Jaenara didn't see any bruises on her when she dressed this morning, even though Ser Cole had been handling her like a rag doll, "Where are they, jaenara?" He challenged making tears slip down her cheek.

Her heart sank, realizing the enormous obstacle she faced. Even the person closest to her seemed to underestimate the gravity of her words. "Aemond, I understand this is difficult for you to accept, but Ser Cole did attack me, I saw his face, and heard his voice clear as day. I do not think there be a day that passes that I don't remember what he did to me." She said looking up at him.

A flicker of belief passed over aemond's face, but he quickly regained his composure. "I need proof, Jaenara. Accusing my mother's sworn sword and a loyal knight to our house without evidence could blow back in our faces..." he states, jaenara didn't have any proof, all the individuals present when Ser Cole attacked her were her and him, the others present after was Ser Ashford and Ser Krey.

Ser Ashford wasn't going to defend her nor Ser Krey even though it did look like he was worried about her. But, his loyalty lies with his brethren rather than the princess they have sworn to protect, and Enith gets there a bit too late but Jaenara doubts even if she had been there, she would have stayed silent as well.

"So, I must ask you, jaenara..." The young princess snaps back to the present and looks uncertainly at Aemond, "...Is it possible that you could....have dreamed or mistaken Ser Cole's advances." Jaenara staggered back from Aemond with wide eyes as if she had just been slapped, she couldn't believe he was asking her that.

More tears welled up in her eyes as her dread grew. "No." She argued, "I-I didn't imagine him attacking me, Aemond. I know he did." She insisted, aemond sighed jaded, his shoulders slumping as he looked at Jaenara, she could see the mixture of skeptical and weariness in his eye, "How can you not believe me after everything I just said, how can you doubt me, You wife of all people...over him." Jaenara couldn't deny that she was mad at Aemond, she wished that this could have gone a different way and not the way she already knew was going to go for her.

Aemond ran a hand through his shining silk hair. His voice softened, yet remained firm. "Jaenara, please understand that I love you. But you cannot simply point fingers at a trusted knight like Ser Cole without concrete evidence." Jaenara closed her eyes feeling betrayed by her husband, "But..." he said making her look at him, "I will look into it and find out the truth myself,"

"You will?" She asked with a glimmer of hope, Aemond nodded his head before putting his hand on Jaenara's arm.

"I will get to the bottom of this mess, but you must do something for me." Aemond inquired making Jaenara ask him what it was wanting to be helpful, "Trust me." Was all he said before pecking the top of her head.

Trust him. She could do that she thought, Aemond never lied to her before so if he says he will deal with it he will deal with it.

"I trust you, Aemond. With all my heart." Jaenara said softly.

Aemond paused, looking at Jaenara, her eyes held so much emotions that it touched something in him when she saw a single tear slide down the corner of her eye. A sudden feeling sparked inside of Aemond, he moved his hand to flicker away the tear making Jaenara look away shyly at the action.

"It's nice out. Let's go for a walk around the garden to clear your head" Aemond suggested sweetly, holding out his arm for her, jaenara took it with a gracious smile before being led away towards the garden.

「                            ⊹₊♚₊⊹                           」

Jaenara was in her quarters reading when her husband, Aemond, burst through the door accompanied by the last man she wanted to see. Startled, Jaenara looked up from her book, her lavender eyes wide with surprise.

"What is this, Aemond?" she blurted out standing up, her voice laced with fear as she stared at Ser Cole.

Aemond's normally calm demeanor was replaced by a distinct air of determination as he approached, striding purposefully across the great chamber. "Dove," he began, his voice trembling with intensity, "We need to talk."

Her heart raced as a foreboding sense of unease settled over her. Ser Cole didn't have shackles on his wrists and ankles indicating that he wasn't under arrest for his crime against her, Jaenara looked at her husband fuming next to a smug Criston.

"Aemond, why have you brought him here?" she asked, her voice tinged with both trepidation, moving her hands to ball at her skirt.

Aemond paused, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. "This man," he declared with a mixture of anger and determination, "is the very same man you accused of attacking you many moons ago, is that right?" Jaenara started to tremble as she nodded her head.

"Ye-yes he did--why is he here, Aemond?" Jaenara questioned unnerved by the other man's presence.

Aemond's throat contracted as he let go of his sword and stalked toward Jaenara, she didn't understand what was going on, she didn't understand why aemond looked so angry while Criston looked like he hit a gold mine. But, it doesn't matter why because what happens next is fill in the blanks.

"He is here for you," Aemond said darkly making Jaenara look at him frightened, aemond grabbed Jaenara by the arm roughly pulling her along.

"What, what do you mean--" She asked frantically as she dug her heels into the floor to keep from going any further, aemond was twice her size and could easily toss her over his shoulder but he settled with just shoving her.

Aemond pushed Jaenara roughly making her fall to the floor in front of Criston, she pushed herself up and looked up at him before looking at her husband who moved to squat down to be at level with her.

"Apologize." He demanded making Jaenara look at him confused.

"For what--what for?" She asked making aemond clench his jaw.

"You lied to me." He simply said before continuing, "You told me he attacked you‐‐"

"He did!" She cries, "Aemond, why would I lie to you." Aemond slapped Jaenara's hand as she reached out for him.

"Why didn't you tell me Ser Ashford and Ser Krey were there?" He asked suddenly making Jaenara look at him speechless that he knew, she looked over at Ser Cole and wondered what he told her husband, "Jaenara, look at me...said look at me!" Jaenara's face was turned roughly by aemond as he grasped her jaw, his gripe causing her eyes to well up and her hand to go to his wrist, "I ask you question and I want answers." Jaenara was crying mess on the floor, she didn't understand why this was happening to her, she hadn't done anything bad to Ser Cole or Ser Ashford yet they hurt her in a way she had never been hurt before it was worse than alys ignoring her.

"ANSWER ME!" He bellowed angrily making Jaenara flinch and cry even more.

"...I don't know, okay I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I..." She cried shaking her head, she didn't know why she was apologizing, it wasn't her fault, she wished Aemond would see that.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." Aemond said turning his nose up at her scornful, "Get up." He spit grabbing her arm roughly and bringing her up with him, "Apologize now." He demanded firmly staring her down as they stood in front of Ser. Ole.

Jaenara's eyes were trained on the floor when she peeked up at Ser Cole, the older man wore a placid look but inside he was celebrating the look of defeat on Jaenara's soft features.

"Aemond, I...I can't." She whispered after she looked back down to the floor doleful.

Aemond clenched his jaw at Jaenara's stubbornness, he towered over her making her shrink and slowly back away from him but aemond's hand grasped her wrist before she could move any further.

"You will apologize or I will have that servant whip for attacking Ser Cole." He threatened, Jaenara looked at Aemond's confound.

"She...She has nothing to do with this, she wasn't even here when he attacked--" Jaenara squeaked in fright as Aemond's grip tightened on the spot above her elbow, his nails dug through the fabric, certain this time a bruise would be left.

He turned her so she could be in front of him.

"ENOUGH!" He bellowed angryily getting fed up with her "lies", Jaenara trembled next to him hiding her face, "Ser Ashford corroborated his story, so did Ser Krey, are you telling me they are liars too, that they would lie to their prince!" He shouted jaenara sniff willing herself to look at Aemond.

The intense glare was intolerable it made her want to look away but at the same time it didn't, it was obvious that Aemond believed Ser Cole over her. Especially with witnesses to back up the knight's story. So, what can she do? The small hope of aemond finding proof of Ser Cole's crime was long gone now, if she continued, she knew that Enith would be punished and Aemond would hate her forever unless...

"...I..l.." Jaenara gulped before licking her lips, she spoke in a low whisper, "...If I apologize...promise me you'll keep him away from me," Aemond squinted at her before he looked at Criston, the older man stood looking at them, but the knight's attention was solely on jaenara.

A glint that Aemond saw whenever Ser Cole talked to a maiden or his mother, he looked away from the knight and back at Jaenara. Aemond wasn't sure at first when Jaenara told him about Ser Cole and he kept his word to her about getting the truth, and in the beginning, he did find out more about what occurred that night. He talked to servants who were in the wing when it happened, and they reported hearing feminine screams, and when he went to confront Criston. He was met with Ser Ashford and Ser Krey, and the older man explained what happened and Ser Krey backed him.

There was something off that he couldn't put his fingers on, the young knight, Krey, seemed skittish and unsure. But, he didn't wish to go further with investigating the situation, he had better things to do than chase down his wife's lies.

"Fine." He agreed with an eye roll before letting her go.

Jaenara took in a shaky breath before she turned around slowly, her eyes trained on the ground as she tried to urge herself to look up at the man and be done. Jaenara lifted her eyes to see Ser Cole standing there like self self-righteous statue with a look that made her want to...Jaenara exhaled through her nose before mumbling out her apology.

Ser Cole raised a brow, he took a step closer making Jaenara take a quick one back only to bump into Aemond's chest.

"I didn't quite catch that, princess. Can you repeat yourself?" Jaenara grinds her teeth together before repeating herself.

"...I'm sorry--" She started.

"Speak up, mouse." He goaded making Jaenara bite her tongue at the new nickname.

"...I said I'm sorry, Ser Cole." She repeated louder making Cridton lean back with a small smile.

"I forgive you, princess."

Jaenara huffed angrily before turning on her heels, she sidestepped Aemond and bolted towards her room, she closed and locked the door behind her. She didn't have the energy to see or talk to Aemond, he could go sleep on the sette or his old chamber. Jaenara isn't a violent person, but she never in her life wanted to cause harm to someone so bad, chilling thoughts of making Ser Cole pay for what he did bring a bit of comfort to Jaenara, but it also scared her.

[divine-knight-hand]

The Ball of the Red Death

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3 Halloween Triple Feature Masterlist

Pairing: Prince!Loki Laufeyson x Enchantress!Female Reader

Summary: A royal feast being converted to a royal ball at the last minute by the god of mischief's mad magic-wielding lover, who just so happens to have an Edgar Allen Poe obsession. What could possibly go wrong?

Content Warnings: Descriptions of violence, discussions of death and mortality at length, implied major character death (you just really have to squint), use of enchantment, unprotected sex, mind reading/communication during sex, use of magic during sex, momentary clothed sex, porn with way way too much plot

Notes: I started writing this because I originally wanted Loki and the reader to have a kind of Gomez and Morticia vibe, but this ended up going in a very different direction.

I reccomend listening to this (TikTok Video) or this (Spotify) during the waltz scene. You can thank me later~

Word Count: 6,905 (Sorry about that, but I believe in y’all!)

Dividers by @chachachannah

“…‘And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.’” I closed the book I was holding and let out a satisfied sigh. “Poe’s commentary on mortality never disappoints.”

Loki and I were resting comfortably in our shared bedroom in the castle. Sometimes, when we had idle time together, I would read aloud from my collection of Edgar Allen Poe’s short stories as he attentively listened, closing his eyes as if he could hang on to my every word. This time, I had just finished reading The Masque of the Red Death —a short story that I’d read about a million times prior to this. Needless to say, it was my favorite one in the collection.

“I find Prince Prospero rather insufferable.” Loki frowned, his head comfortably nestled in my lap. “He didn’t even hesitate to shut the sick out to die. He cared not for his kingdom. He merely cared for the throne. His methods are those born of blatant greed and ignorance.”

I dropped my book on a nearby nightstand before reaching down to softly scratch his raven locks. “Lest we forget, you were once mad for power.”

The god sighed under my touch, closing his eyes. “And I would have done well with it. Asgard would truly prosper with me as its king.”

“I’m sure it would.” I smirked at his witty response. “Enough with the scary stories, anyway. I have more important things to tend to.” I let go of his hair, waiting for him to move his head from my lap. He didn’t budge.

“‘More important things to tend to’?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I would choose your words more carefully, darling.”

I instantly felt guilty for my poor choice of words. “Loki, as much as I love spending time with you, you know I have to meet with Frigga to discuss-”

“The royal feast preparations.” He finished for me. “I’m aware.” He looked up at me, his blue eyes filled with longing. “Each moment I’m without you brings me closer to madness. Perhaps you’ve managed to enchant me, after all.”

“You know I couldn’t possibly do that, no matter how much experience I earn in my craft.” I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I promise you, my absence will only last as long as the blink of an eye.”

Loki sat up beside me. “I’m doubtful, but I will concede.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he continued. “Stop tempting me and go before I change my mind and keep you here for myself.”

I chuckled to myself as I finally rose from the bed and strolled over to the door. “You won’t even have the time to miss me.”

Loki simply let out a low hum in response as I shut the door behind me.

.·:*¨༺♚༻¨*:·.

I made sure to keep in step alongside Frigga as we strolled through the palace gardens. She wore an expression of immense confusion. “Are you absolutely sure you wish to convert the feast to a ball? You do realize the event is tomorrow, and a ball requires much more preparation than a feast, correct?”

“Have you no faith in my planning prowess?” I teased. “I’m absolutely positive. I have grand ideas, and I feel a simple feast wouldn’t do them justice at all.”

“I suppose that makes sense…” Frigga seemed hesitant to agree with me.

“Oh! There’s one more thing I feel inclined to add.” I twiddled my fingers in front of me as we walked. “I wish to plan this event on my own from here on out.”

Frigga’s eyes widened. “You wish to make this event your own? This is a royal event, lest you forget!”

“I’m well aware, my queen.” I reassured her. “I simply wish to take matters into my own hands and allow for the royal family to indulge in the resulting revelry.”

A strange, uncharacteristic darkness crept over her features. “Something tells me this isn’t your true intention.”

“Nonsense!” I waved my hand. “It’s all in good fun, I assure you.”

Frigga froze for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh. “I’ll be speaking with the Allfather. We need his approval for this change in arrangements, after all.”

We both stopped in our tracks, and I flashed her the sweetest smile I could muster. “Lovely! I thank you for your consideration on the matter.”

Frigga met me with a frightened look. “Sure… Yes- Well, I’ll be on my way!” With that, she hurried out of the gardens, as if she couldn’t get away from me quickly enough.

What a shame. I sighed as I watched her go. I do hope I didn’t let on too much…

.·:*¨༺♚༻¨*:·.

Odin grumbled at the documents in front of him. He hated signing laws into action, but they were a responsibility of his. He took pride in his work, no matter how mundane it became.

Tap! Tap! Tap! He rubbed the bridge of his nose as a soft rapping sounded at the door. He wasn’t as pleased with distractions.

“Enter!” He called, sitting up straight in his chair.

Frigga entered the room, clutching the front of her dress in an anxious disposition. “Allfather! There’s something important I must discuss with you.”

“Of course!” His booming voice practically rattled the castle walls. “What must we discuss, my dear?”

“It’s about the royal feast.” She nervously wrung her hands. “Lady Y/N wishes for it to be a ball instead…” Odin arched an eyebrow at her before she continued, “and she wishes to take on sole responsibility of planning it.”

“THE GALL!” He roared. “She’s casting you from the planning council? Who does that woman think she is?!”

“She claims it to be all in good fun…” Frigga’s voice trailed off into uncertainty.

“Yet you seem apprehensive.” Odin observed.

Frigga took a deep breath. “I sensed malicious intent in her. I fear the worst for our family. I fear the worst for our people.”

Odin sighed. He wanted nothing more than to have Loki’s concubine of a lover locked away in the dungeons for the rest of her days. There was something about her that just irked him, but he could never place his finger on it.

However, as the conversation drew on, Odin felt a change in him, and new thoughts began to creep into his mind. Lady Y/N didn’t seem as repulsive to him. If anything, he was curious as to what she had in store for the ball. She said it was all in good fun, after all. What would be the harm in giving his wife some time to relax? In front of him, Frigga’s eyes darted around the room as if she was searching for something.

Odin cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. “Give the lady full control of the event. I want every event planner in Asgard at her disposal. Her ideas deserve to be realized, and I wish to see what she has in store for us.”

Frigga audibly gasped. “But, Allfather-”

“Silence!” He waved her off. “I’ve made my decision. Now be off! I have duties to attend to.”

Frigga looked dumbfounded, her mouth opening and closing in an attempt to formulate a response. She never found her voice. She respectfully curtsied and rushed out of the room, leaving Odin to tend to his papers.

My fingers tingled with magic and excitement as I observed the scene from the rafters. This was all coming together too perfectly. Enchanting the Allfather was the easy part. It was no simple task to fool a master sorceress, however. Especially one as experienced and well-versed in Asgardian magic as Frigga. The thrill of almost being caught sent another jolt of electricity coursing under my skin. This is just too perfect!

.·:*¨༺♚༻¨*:·.

The following night, Fandral stood at the bottom of the grand staircase in the ballroom, which was decorated in elegant shades of red and gold. He himself was outfitted in crimson fabrics, and the attention of every partygoer was fixed on him.

“Welcome, everyone, to the Red Ball.” His voice projected throughout the room. “I see most of you abided by the dress code ordained by the coordinator of this event. Others… not so much.” He passive-aggressively cleared his throat. “Before we proceed with the festivities, it is my utmost honor and privilege to introduce the royal family, as well as their partners. I first present to you the Allfather, Asgard’s king, Odin, with his wife, our beloved queen, Frigga.”

The partygoers roared as Fandral stepped aside, leaving Odin and Frigga space to descend the stairs, arms interlocked. Odin was decorated in gold armor, and Frigga in a large and flowy red dress, a crown adorned in blood-red jewels resting atop her neatly coiled hair. The two were a paragon of a royal couple, descending the stairs in an air of grace and power.

Fandral bowed to the couple as they made their way off of the staircase before resituating himself where he stood prior. “Now I present their eldest son, and prince of Asgard, Thor Odinson, with his partner, hailing from Midgard, Jane Foster.”

Fandral stepped aside as Thor and Jane made their way down the stairs holding hands. The crowd roared again as the couple approached. Thor wore a tunic of red and silver, while Jane wore an equally red hoopless ball gown.

Once again, Fandral bowed and returned to the center of the bottom step to announce the final pair. “And now, last but not least, I present the youngest prince of Asgard, Loki Odinson, with his partner, who attended to planning this very ball, Y/N L/N.”

Atop the stairs, I felt my heart leap into my throat at the sound of my name. This was it. This was the moment everything would be set in motion. I smoothed my hands over the front of my crimson velvet dress before Loki locked one of my arms in his. He wore a tunic similar to his traditional choice, the only difference being that he swapped the green hue for red, as per my request. He tried to argue his way out of giving up his favorite color, but caved when I insisted.

“Don’t worry yourself.” He leaned in to whisper, merely inches from my ear. “Your beauty would make the very stars themselves whisper in envy, my enchantress. If nothing else, you are not the problem.”

I smiled before whispering back, “Thank you, my love. Never does a moment go by where you’re at a loss for the perfect words.”

He motioned his hand towards the stairs. “Shall we?”

I made a small nod. “We shall.”

With that, we began our descent on the stairs, turning onto the grand staircase, where the crowd could finally set their eyes on us. Scattered cheers erupted into loud applause as I set my hand in a delicate wave.

Loki gently nudged my shoulder as we neared the bottom step. “See, darling? They love you.”

“Nonsense, my prince.” I smirked. “Your royal visage is distracting them from mine.”

He lightly sighed. “Must you always evade my reassurance?”

“Not at all.” I responded, taking the opportunity to glance in his direction. “I just stand to reason that your approval is the only one that matters to me. I don’t need that of others.”

Loki and I stood alongside the rest of the royal family as Fandral wrapped up his introductions. “Now that I’ve introduced our esteemed royal family, let the festivities begin!”

At his words, the ballroom came alive. A band in the corner of the room began playing a slow orchestral waltz and couples began pairing up and swaying to the music, forming a sea of red with the occasional off-color sprinkled in. Black-suited figures entered the room carrying trays of drinks and finger foods to pass to hungry dancers. As I observed the scene, I felt a sense of pride swelling inside of me. Any minute now. It’ll be any minute now. I felt the corners of my lips upturn as my fingers began to tingle.

My gaze met Loki’s. “I can’t believe this is really happening!”

I fought to keep my smile from growing too wide. Damnit! Tone it down before you appear suspicious. Then again, it would be safe to consider that anyone in the room would assume that my excitement came from enjoyment of the party.

Loki warmly smiled at me. “You did well in planning this event.”

“The best is yet to come.” I winked, noticing Frigga stiffen in the corner of my eye. The song changed to one with a bit of a quicker tempo, eliciting the same change in speed from the dancers.

Odin clapped his hands, bringing the attention of the royal family and their partners to him. “I believe it is time for us to enjoy a dance as well.” He held a hand out to Frigga. “My wife.” She took his outstretched hand in hers with a small smile before he led her away from the rest of us.

“I’m assuming that’s my cue.” Thor held a hand out for Jane, who let out a small chuckle as she took his hand.

“Well done! This is amazing!” She called out to me before disappearing with her lover among the sea of dancers.

I turned to Loki with an eyebrow raised, and he quickly understood what I wanted from him, extending a hand towards me. “Care to dance, darling?”

I couldn’t hide the grin spreading across my mouth this time. “Let’s!”

I took his hand and he led me to the center of the dance floor. He then held his hands at my waist and I rested mine on his shoulders. We fell into step, dancing something similar to a formal ballroom dance, but with some elements that were more casual than traditional.

As we danced, Loki leaned in to mutter, “Darling, may I ask you a question?”

“What’s plaguing your mind, my love?” I gave one of his shoulders a squeeze.

“Your guest list seems rather…” His voice trailed off as his eyes quickly scanned the room before returning to mine. “How did you manage to gather so many people from the dungeon? This doesn’t seem safe, nor plausible.”

I waved my hand at his concern before returning it to his shoulder. “Worry not about that. They won’t be stirring any trouble tonight.”

“And you can guarantee that?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Indeed, I can.” I warmly smiled at him. “Besides, everyone deserves a chance to enjoy the festivities, don’t they?”

“I suppose…” Then, a look of realization crossed his features, and he sighed, a disappointed sound coming from a suddenly amused expression. “You’ve enchanted them, haven’t you?”

A small smirk tugged at my lips. “Guilty as charged.”

He lightly chuckled, his amusement pulling a grin from his lips. “I see no harm in the matter, then.”

We continued to dance to the music, my dress swishing with each movement as he held me, spun me, and dipped me. As extravagant as our dancing may have seemed, he never attempted a move that would be too much for me. He knew all the moves I could comfortably perform, and would always dance accordingly. Sometimes, I worried that I was holding him back, but he always assured me that there was no one he’d rather dance with than me. He really knew how to make me feel special.

All things considered, it was a wonder I didn’t trip over myself. My eyes remained glued to his, and his to mine. He was gorgeous, and I didn’t want him out of my sight for a second. Each moment I danced with him was a moment where everything else faded away. It was as if we were alone in the ballroom, dancing simply for our own enjoyment. I would stay with him like this forever if I could.

Unfortunately, forever didn’t last, and the song ended up changing to a more lively piece, sending the rest of the dancers into a frenzy.

I decided I wanted to take this moment to step away. “Loki?”

“Yes, darling?” He slowed to a stop as I did.

“Can we go to the balcony?” I gave his shoulders an affectionate squeeze. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

I could almost see the gears in his mind turning as he considered this. “Of course.”

We interlocked arms and made our way back towards the grand staircase, Fandral spying us on the way. “Leaving so soon?” He called, unceasing in his dance with his partner.

“We will return, of course!” I waved with my free arm. “The night isn’t nearly over.”

Loki and I practically dashed up the stairs and down the hall to an inner balcony, which overlooked the ballroom dance floor. We had an overhead view of the sea of dancers below, each creating their own wave of crimson.

I let go of Loki to grab the banister, sighing as I looked on. “It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

I felt his arms wrap around my waist as his head came to a rest on my shoulder. “This is all your doing, my dear. I have not the words to describe my pride in you, both for the event you carefully planned and for your great magical improvement.”

“Thank you, my love.” My lips curved into another smile as his pride filled me with my own. “Do you know why I chose the theme that I did?”

Loki hummed thoughtfully before answering. “I couldn’t possibly say.”

I stretched my arm over the party below. “Look at all those people. Every single one in here has something they’re trying to escape. Something they’re trying to avoid . They bide their time ignoring a malignant problem that doesn’t fade away. It festers, it grows, and someday, it drowns them.”

“How delightful…” Loki didn’t seem amused in the slightest.

“I know it’s morbid.” I lightly chuckled. “But inspiration struck, and that, I couldn’t ignore. Consider this an escape from what is a tiresome reality.”

“Alright,” A moment of silence passed between us as he let go of me and situated himself next to me. He spoke up again, “Why, then, did you ask a majority of us to wear red?” His hands reached forward to grab the banister.

I softly placed one of mine over one of his. “I believe you should instead be asking why some didn’t.”

Loki seemed to carefully consider this as he examined the dancers below. “It seems all the nobles and most of the royalty in attendance are wearing other colors.” He pointed out the wealthy and the royals from other realms, who were, in fact, devoid of the red color that everyone else wore in abundance.

“Very good.” I slid behind him and snaked my arms around his waist, pulling myself into him as I neared his cheek with my lips–which I conveniently left unpainted–and lowered my voice to just above a whisper. “You’re so observant, my love.”

Loki shuddered. “Darling… I’m still unclear on your motives.”

“All will be revealed in due time.” I coaxed his face in the direction of mine. “Be patient, my prince.”

The air between us seemed to crackle with electricity. I brought my forehead to his, closing some of the distance between us.

“We’ve been gone for some time,” Loki breathed. “The others will talk.”

“Let them.” I finally closed the distance between us with a kiss. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing him like it would be my last time. I wanted to drink him in. I never wanted to forget this feeling.

When we broke our kiss, Loki breathily asked, “And what of having patience?”

“You, my love, are the only thing that can make waiting feel torturous.” I sighed, leaning in to kiss him again.

This time, I heard a low hum escape him as we connected. His arms reciprocated my embrace, warming my body and heart.

When we broke our kiss again for air, Loki’s cheeks were dusted a light pink, and his lips were curved into the smallest smirk.

“You little minx.” He teased. “Have you no intention of returning to the event you planned?”

“Of course, I do!” I playfully scoffed, letting go of him and turning to walk away. “But, if you wish to hurry me off, then…”

“Wait!” Loki grabbed my arm, pulling me back to him. “Just once more.” He insisted before pulling me into a final, hungry kiss.

I felt his hand work its way into my hair, the other playing at my waist. I slid mine up his chest until I interlocked them behind his neck.

He sighed against my mouth before breaking the kiss. We were left gasping in each other’s arms, smiling like fools. But, we knew we weren’t fools. We were in love.

“I hope you know, I didn’t actually intend on walking away from you.” I breathlessly admitted.

“I know.” Loki smirked. “I simply enjoy indulging in your little games.”

My ears perked at the sound of a glass chiming. “Oh! I genuinely must be away now.”

“Allow me to escort you back to the festivities, darling.” Loki kissed the crown of my head before we rushed to fix our hair and return to the ball.

Fandral stood at the bottom of the stairs, the attention of the partygoers on him once again, with a glass in one hand and a silver spoon in the other. “There she is! The delicate and fair princess chooses to grace us with her presence once again… and Lady Y/N appears, as well.”

Loki rolled his eyes as I stifled a giggle at Fandral’s dramatic foolishness. “You two can save your childish banter for later. I believe I must take care of something now.”

“But, of course, my lady!” Fandral turned back to the crowd, tapping his spoon against the glass to make another chiming sound. “Now I ask for your attention as we hear a few words from Lady Y/N.”

The crowd applauded as Fandral and Loki walked off, leaving me at the bottom of the grand staircase. Loki glared daggers at the giddy blonde. He would remember that insult for a long time to come.

I had to stifle another giggle by clearing my throat before addressing the audience. “Thank you all so kindly for attending this ball. I worked very hard to put all of this together.” I opened my arms in a grand gesture and the partygoers erupted into applause.

I only spoke again once the applause died down. “With the creation of the Red Ball, I had a vision.” I began to pace in front of the bottom step. “A vision that no one has ever dared to enact before. I’ve brought together royals and delinquents alike in a display of unity.” More cheers filled the ballroom before I could continue. “But one question remains. Unity through what? What unites us? How can royals, commonfolk, and dungeon convicts be linked in any way?” The room went silent, the only sound filling the hall being my voice. “Well, there’s one thing that unites us. One thing that the royals gleefully ignore, but it looms over the heads of commoners. It’s punctuated by each ticking of the clock. It creeps in with every breath we take. It sweeps through every corridor we dare to step through, and it… is… red.”

Whoosh!��All of the lights in the hall were suddenly extinguished, and a few screams were heard before the room came alive with scattered whispers and mutters.

“Please remain calm!” Odin’s voice reverberated around the room. “The lights will return shortly.”

A large pair of arms wrapped around me and I let out a surprised yelp. “Darling! Are you alright?”

“Loki?” I let out a relieved chuckle and settled into his embrace. “I’m okay. I just… What happened to the lights?”

“We’ve got servants looking into it.” Loki reassured me. “Odin believes the lights will return soon.”

“How soon?” My voice oozed with feux concern. I was relieved that the darkness was enough to hide the smirk playing at my lips.

A blood-curdling scream sounded from across the room before quickly tapering off into a gurgling cough, followed by a dull thud. The room plummeted into another silence before more screams of the same fashion filled the void of sound.

Loki’s arms tightened around me. “We need to get out of here.” He growled in my ear. “Now.”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary.” I reassured him.

“What?” He sounded flabbergasted.

“‘And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death.’” I quoted. “‘He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel,’.”

Loki began to sound desperate. “Please, darling, begin to make sense again. I know not what you’re speaking of.”

With that, the lights returned, revealing the red splatters of blood around the ballroom. The dungeon escapees I invited were gone, replaced with figures wearing masks–ghoulish pale faces covered in red blotches—that resembled victims of the Red Death from Poe’s short story. Each one carried a knife, as instructed… Well, as instructed by the enchantment they were under.

The only partygoers left alive were those who wore red. They screamed and sobbed at the carnage that was created around them.

“What the Hel is going on?!” Loki squeezed me tighter to his chest, shock coloring his tone.

“I suppose the name of the ball was a tad misleading.” I mused, “I do believe The Ball of the Red Death would be a much more appropriate title.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki released me from his grip. I turned to face him as his hands ghosted my upper arms. His eyes were blown with disbelief at my commentary. “Did you have something to do with this?”

I darkly chuckled. “No, my love. I had everything to do with this.”

His eyes grew wide. “Wh- What?”

I walked my fingers up his shoulder. “In a world where the privileged forget their place, someone has to act to remind them that even they can’t escape their demise. Consider this a wake up call.”

Loki seemed puzzled. “You’re still speaking in fragments.” His brow creased in concentration before he spoke again. “While we were alone, you mentioned that people escaped something that only festered. Is this what you meant? Death?!” I responded with a silent nod as he scanned the room. “And the victims… They weren’t wearing red. None of them were.”

“Using the term ‘victims’ to refer to these over-privileged assholes is a bit of a stretch, if I do say so myself.” I insisted, “But, yes. The dead attempted to avoid the red… Well, they weren’t ordered to wear red in the first place, but my metaphor still stands.”

“I- I-” Loki was at a loss for words.

“I can understand your confusion, but I assure you there’s a method to my perceived madness.” I slowly approached him and caressed his cheek. “Commoners face death and ailment every day, only for their problems to be ignored and even trivialized by the royally and monetarily privileged. I’m merely reminding them that they’re no farther above the rest of their people. Is that so foul?”

The god puzzled this over for a moment before another scream filled the room. It was then that Thor found us, with Jane at his side.

The two ran up to us, Jane’s voice wavering with panic. “We have to get out of here!”

“Brother, get Jane and Y/N to safety!” Thor commanded, sounding as loud as his father would as he summoned his hammer. “I’ll hold off the murderers until your return.” The blonde sped off before Loki could respond.

I gingerly rested a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Jane seems shaken. Take her away, then come find me again.”

Loki considered this, his jaw clenching as he rapidly scanned the room, before swiftly leaving with Jane. I smiled as I watched him leave, sounds of thunder and violence crescendoing behind me as I drew a knife from under the skirts of my dress. There was one more thing I had to take care of.

.·:*¨༺♚༻¨*:·.

It didn’t take long for me to tie up that last loose end. After discarding the knife and cleaning all the blood off of my skin, I was strolling through the halls–the sounds of metal clanging and bodies thudding fading into background noise–when Loki nearly ran into me.

“Gods!” He exclaimed in surprise. “I was just looking for you.”

“Loki!” I smiled warmly. “It was about time you found me.”

A moment of charged silence hung between us before he spoke up again. “You did all of this by yourself?”

“Hardly.” I waved my hand dismissively at the idea. “I had the entire planning committee, as well as those confined to the dungeons, at my disposal… with a little convincing, of course.” I held up my hand and let small tendrils of magic play at my fingertips to emphasize my point.

“You amaze me.” He breathlessly chuckled. “Truly, you amaze me.”

“You don’t despise me for the chaos I’ve caused?” This time, I was surprised.

“Darling,” He cupped my face in his hands, and I felt sparks tingle to life under my skin. “You’re speaking to the god of mischief. I’m not averse to chaos in the slightest. Yes, your planning was a bit bold… and unorthodox, if I do say so myself… but I could never despise you.” I cupped one of his hands in mine as he continued. “Besides, I do believe I’ve figured out the theme behind your little games.”

A smirk tugged at my lips. “Oh, really? Do tell, then, what my true motives were.”

“You’ve had quite the obsession with Edgar Allen Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death . I have reason to believe our reading of that little story inspired you to act on your own beliefs.” He leaned in until our noses were nearly touching. “And after listening to you speak tonight, I have reason to believe that your motivation is rather agreeable.”

“Oh, Loki,” I let out a sigh as my eyes fluttered shut. “I’m glad we ended up on the same page. Truly, I worried-”

Loki cut off my sentence by slamming into me with a passionate kiss. I let out a soft moan as my hands trailed up his back to tangle themselves in his soft inky locks.

When we broke from the kiss, gasping for air, he reassured me between breaths. “You have no reason to worry. The royal court will have no knowledge of what transpired tonight. To them, this will be an uprising planned by the criminals who will be heading back to the dungeons after the battle dies down.” I silently nodded, my hand reaching up to trace his jawline.

He softly chuckled at my suddenly diverted attention. “You’ve been getting distracted so easily.”

“Your elegance is distracting.” I remarked, bringing my body closer to his.

“Then, forget the ball entirely.” He closed the gap between us with a quick kiss before continuing. “Let us retire to our chambers, hm?”

“I like the way you think~” At my words, Loki picked me up and carried me bridal-style all the way to our shared room, the sounds of violence fading away into complete silence as we swiftly moved through each palace hall.

I couldn’t help but giggle as our bedroom door slammed shut behind him, his stride unbreaking until he laid me down onto the bed. “You’ve done a great deal of work up until now, haven’t you?” He crawled on top of me, his hair falling around our faces, before pulling me into another kiss.

As his trail of kisses moved down along my neck, I shuddered. “I’m still surprised my strange methods for change haven’t turned you away.”

“Oh, darling,” Loki groaned. “I am no stranger to the madness you’re exploring. The darkness you entertain… Its allure is strong.” His kisses were unceasing, making their way back up to my lips before whispering. “I fear it not. In fact, I revere it.”

I reached a hand up to cup his cheek as my own burned warm in feel and in hue. “Loki…”

He pulled me into another kiss, his hips grinding into mine, the growing bulge in his trousers drawing a soft moan from my lips as it made friction with my core through the mountains of fabric between us. My hands were eager, and I felt the pull of magic threatening my fingertips as they desperately grasped at his back. He shuddered under my touch, clearly sensing my energy through the leathers that separated his skin from mine.

With no lack of grace, Loki hiked up the skirts of my dress, granting himself access to the lace panties I wore underneath. I hissed as he brought the fingers of his free hand against the damp fabric, the other creating a dip in the bed as he held himself up on it.

“Already so wet for me?” He hummed in approval. “Your desire for me is nothing short of glorious~”

“My prince,” I breathed as I resisted the urge to buck my hips against his hand. “Please, let me have you tonight.”

I heard the shifting of leathers before feeling Loki move my panties aside and tease the tip of his cock against my slick folds. “I will give you whatever you desire, darling.” Quickly growing impatient, he tore the intruding piece of fabric off of my legs, granting himself full access to my cunt.

I still felt the magic and excitement dancing in my fingertips when he grabbed one of my hands in his, interlocking our fingers. “I can feel this power of yours, my dear.” He brought my hand up to his mouth, unceasing in his teasing as his lips lightly brushed my fingers. “Normally, I’d warn you to exercise caution in allowing your emotions to control your magic… but, seeing as I’m immune to your enchantment, I’ll encourage you to remember the way it courses through your veins as I pleasure you tonight.”

I shivered under his touch, despite feeling extremely warm. “And you’re absolutely positive that you’re immune to my enchantment?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed. “Only your magical enchantment, it would seem. Your enchanting allure, on the other hand?” He leaned in and softly kissed me on the lips before continuing. “I fall weak to it every time.”

“Oh, Loki…” I moaned as I pulled him into another passionate kiss, feeling his magic beckon to mine.

It was playful. It teased at my fingertips, as if it was asking the sparks under my skin to come out and play. I’d never felt Loki’s seidr have energy this light-hearted before. Even when he was using it for tricks and games, it always had some sort of reserved and orderly feel to it. It only ever moved with a purpose. Nothing more, nothing less. But, not tonight. Tonight, it was almost as wild and eager as mine. Tonight, it was carefree.

Can you blame me? Loki’s voice mischievously chuckled in my mind. I have the most radiant woman in all the nine realms all to myself, at last.

You’ve always had me, my love. I sighed against his mouth, my free hand trailing up his back. I’m yours, for as long as you wish to have me.

Then, I’ll have you until the very end of days. Loki’s lust came through in his message, and I reached for his cock, eager to satisfy his hunger for me. Normally, he would softly reproach me for being so impatient, but tonight, he just shuddered when my fingers made contact with his length. Take me now, darling.

With pleasure~ I lined him up with my entrance and slowly let him slide in.

He let his kisses trail along my jaw as he bottomed out, whispering, “Gods, you feel divine…”

Loki’s breath against the shell of my ear sent a shiver down my spine, and my inner walls instinctively clenched around his cock, earning a soft, breathy moan from him in response. Without wasting another second, he began slowly thrusting in and out of me, setting a steady pace.

“Loki…” I groaned, my hand returning to his back to desperately claw at the leather that still covered it. “I want to feel all of you. Please…”

He softly chuckled at my eagerness, allowing his seidr to dissolve our clothes into thin air. A small draft washed over my now bare body, giving my skin a short-lived break from the warmth Loki’s body sent into mine. The delicious warmth…

“How ironic that I should provide you with such warmth.” He purred. “On account of my heritage being so frigid.”

“Yet, that’s the only cold thing about you.” I hissed as he brushed my sweet spot. “You’ve always been so warm and loving to me.”

“You’re the only one who’s proved worthy of that thus far.” He growled.

I felt my impatience heightening at his slow pace, the energy thrumming in my fingers growing equally restless. “Loki…”

“Yes, darling?” He mumbled.

“Harder,” I breathed. “Please… Harder.”

Loki’s low, mischievous chuckle sounded in my ear. “As you wish, my enchantress~”

He sped up his movements, slamming his hips into mine at a bruising pace. He relentlessly targeted my sweet spot, and I could almost hear my own moans rattling off the castle walls as he blended pleasure and pain into a beautiful experience just for me.

“Oh, Loki…” I felt my eyes roll back as my nails dug into his back.

Yes, darling... Loki’s voice broke through my mess of incoherent thoughts. Mark me just like that. Lay your claim on me and me alone.

“Loki…” His name spilled from my lips like a prayer. It was the only word I could speak coherently anymore. “Oh, Loki…”

“That’s it,” He praised me. “Let anyone who might overhear us know who you belong to. Yes, just like that.”

It felt so good. God, he knew just how to please me. Everything about the moment was so intimate. I never shied away from baring myself to Loki, and he happily did the same for me. Our thoughts were aligned, our magic played, and his body was fully available to me, pleasuring me in all the ways he knew I loved.

I felt my peak quickly approaching. “Loki… ’M cumming…”

“Do it, my enchantress,” He grunted. “Cum for me. Let me feel you clench around my cock. Show me how I truly make you feel.”

Loki’s words sent me over the edge, and he helped me ride out my nearly blinding climax. As I came down from my high, I noticed his thrusts becoming sloppier. Needier.

“D- Darling…” He hissed, his jaw clenching as he quickly approached his peak.

“Cum inside me, my love.” I mewled, still sensitive from my release. “Fill me- Ah!”

Before I could finish my pleas, I felt Loki’s cock twitch, spilling its seed inside me as his cries of pleasure filled my ears. I rocked my hips against his, attempting to help him ride out his high.

Oh, my enchantress~ Loki’s voice moaned in my mind, his real voice still occupied as he lost himself in ecstasy.

Once he finished, we were both panting. Energy still thrummed in my fingertips, but I noticed Loki’s slowly slipping away from mine. I willed mine to calm down, as well, feeling the sparks under my skin slowly fade away.

He then slowly pulled out, and a whine escaped the back of my throat at my sudden empty feeling. He didn’t, however, move from on top of me. I took the opportunity to pull him into a quick kiss.

Loki sighed against my mouth before pulling away. “Your temptation is going to be the death of me.”

“I beg to differ.” I breathlessly responded. “Your touch brings me to life, my love.”

Loki sharply rolled over, moving me to rest on top of his chest. I yelped in surprise before succumbing to a fit of giggles and pecking him on the lips. He held me in his arms, and I even began drifting off to sleep before a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Brother!” Thor’s voice boomed as the doors rattled. “The prisoners have been defeated. We require your assistance in the filing of documents on the uprising.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Brother, it’s late. For the love of Valhalla, allow me some rest after this eventful night before I toil away alongside you and Odin in an excruciatingly lengthy meeting.”

A heavy silence hung in the air before Thor’s voice responded in an unusually low tone. “…Very well, Loki.”

After the sound of retreating footsteps, Loki rubbed my back, softly groaning, “Do feel free to enchant my brother the next time he insists on poking at my nerves.”

“As you wish, my prince.” I softly giggled before pulling him into another sweet kiss.

As gleeful as I might have seemed, the conversation left me with a small pang of guilt. I rested my face in the crook of Loki’s neck and breathed him in, willing the lull of sleep to pull me under.

I would have to break the horrific news to him in the morning.

[cirqosmos]

𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐌𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | 𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐓𝟕 × 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

SUMMARY you couldn't believe how your life could turn out for the worse when you were force to take on the body of the wicked and sadistic daughter of a Duke who has countless of enemies ready to stomp on her once they had the very chance. Eyes seething with vengeance and walls like ears—you had no choice but to protect yourself; you either act like her and therefore risk your life even more or overturn people's perception on her and lay low behind the spotlight. Yet the era you were thrown into seems far more complicated than you think when you attracted more eyes than you planned to do so.

GENRE/WARNING reverse harem, comedy, royal au, romance, fluff, angst, time loop/time travel, politics, 18th century au, attempted tongue mutilation, profanity.

WORD COUNT — 5k

•{ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ' 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 }•

"So.. you're telling me," hesitating in gesturing to yourself, "That I'm the daughter of a duke?" the maid nodded slowly, seemingly concerned. "And that I have two brothers.. who are currently out of town. And that I'm the only daughter." your mind fleet away as every word sank in your soul. "And it's the year 1816 right now?"

She nodded again.

And you scoffed terribly, brushing your forehead as you giggled almost like it's a joke. "Yah, who hired you?"

"T-the head took me in a few months ago, milady!"

"No bitch, I was asking who hired you? Which member recommended you to the theater?" You slapped the table repeatedly, "As far as I know, I have never seen you or anyone in my team! Wait—are you perhaps from another team?"

"H-huh, I do not understand what you are trying to imply, milady."

"Stop lying." You pointed your index finger to her face. "Quit acting, where's the freaking cameras? This must be a surprise test, huh?! Come out! I just got into an accident and you all are already giving me an exam for fuck's sake!"

"N-no!" she shrieked terribly much to your cringing face. "I— how- am I.. supposed to? Milady?!" hiccups emitted a couple of times, the girl unable to finish her sentences before suddenly weeping for the nth time, glueing her forehead on the floor

Your jaw dropped, frowning. "Stop calling me that! And h-hey! I haven't even say anything much yet and you're already crying? How much in the script did it actually tell you to cry this much?!"

"My apologies, miladyyy!" her whining cause you to close your ears in frustration, and the two maids behind the door had their head hanging so low it might snap as they pulled their fellow mate away, the familiar old lady from just now came instead, falling on her knees before you.

"Milady." Hanging her head low, she did, as she called out for you. "Perhaps, you don't recognise any one of us?"

"Do I look like I do?" You nonchalantly answered, raising your right leg on top of the chair.

That alone caused the Madame's eyes to ogle out, "Milady! That's very unladylike to sit! Please do not—"

"Excuse me? If you are trying to mould me into a—" swaying your hand in patterns, "Feminine, lovable, innocent wife for your boss. Then fucking quit it."

"Milady!" The Madame taken aback by you, proceeded to go outside, urging the maids to call upon someone. "Oh lord, what has happen to the lady that she had to utter such vile words!"

—♚—

Stress.

Indeed, the entire manor was engulfed with nothing but pure stress with your total switch of a personality—for the very reason of you barging the door without knocking, walking very unladylike, pushing yourself out the first floor's window to look out the garden, or even at worse cases which had their orbs ogling out terribly was when you pull up your gown with the reasons of it being tremendously hot, or when you plucked out the hair ornaments on your hair, or any accessories at sight.

“Lady (Name)... seems so different, doesn't she?” says the young servant as she pours a bucket of water on the marble floor.

“I like her a bit now, though.” the other replied.

“You sure about that?—” they both raise their head up to you standing afar with your head shooting outside the patterned holes of the walls. "The lady.. truly acts eccentric nowadays. I heard the doctor diagnosed with her mental problems."

"Don't tell me you're having such thoughts! Where did you even heard such baseless rumors? Keep that to yourself or else you'll earn it."

"Ugh, fine." The servant groaned to herself. "Honestly, I truly think the chandelier could've possibly damaged the lady's brain to the point she had a total switch of personality."

“Well, at least, we aren’t reprimanded as we used to.” The other replied. "Aren't you glad of it?"

Unknown to the wonders of this new, or atleast old world. A distant feeling consumed your heart as you could be the only one right here, right now. All alone by yourself—you've finally come into conclusion that you truly, were indeed, in the era of 1816.

What a fucking joke.

A teacup snapped into numerous pieces across the carpeted floor, dark brown contents splattered horrendously before the maid's horrific realisation, ultimately falling on her knees.

“I'm–m! I apologise! I deserve to die but no– no! Please I have a family to feed! Certainly they would fall into their demise upon my death, I greatly beg you young lady! Please!”

Baffled over her exaggerated and frantic reaction as if you were going to get her beheaded at any moment just because of a simple fallen teacup and its scattered leafy tea on the carpeted red floor. You laughed awkwardly, “It’s o-okay? It’s just a teacup afterall?”

"I-it's not! My lady, I greatly apologize!" She weep in pure agony, faint red dripping from her forehead as she slammed it repeatedly on the floor.

You stood there in slight shock at the desperate actions of the maid, why are they so beyond frightened of you? Did what you heard were actually true?

The young lady of this family, you heard—after a series of gathered information from what you've came to piece the puzzle together; the daughter of the duke was a one cunning and merciless lady, with an extreme intelligence surpassing of that the highest scholar in the country but one that had been deemed beneath the soil for the duke, her father—had ordered for it.

That she, a woman, shall only stay inside her home, and appease her soul by waiting for a hand in marriage. It's such an atrocious joke, really. How could you even wonder, some parents just don't deserve a child for they only deemed their child's existence as an investment. Not more than that.

The young lady also had a blast of short temper, judging by how the maids often whimper and tremble when you appear before them—acting as if their life was on the edge of the cliff every single time.

You overheard one of them that the lady had ordered for a public humiliation for one of the previous maids who dared to go up against her, stripping her off her dignity and letting men devour her like a dangling fresh meat.

She's like a ticking time bomb.

It had you a tad bit conflicted over what to feel with the lady, or whether to think of her as a completely wronged lady whose talents were gone to be drained by the father, or a spoiled brat using her power to trample on the weak.

Sighing as you watched the garden out the window, surely—it shouldn't be any of your concern right? Anything personal regarding the lady should be scrapped, and only what's necessary should be kept for you have to survive in her body with the infamous reputation she earned—till you're able to find a way back to your original life.

Tapping your chin as you brought yourself in a deep thought, you were contemplating over what to do. Right, your lips pulled up into a slight beaming smile that had the maids eyes widening in utter surprise, unable to process the eccentric sight before them.

"Get up, dear." The maid trembled slightly with your hands pulling her up in a gentle manner, "It's perfectly fine, such trivial mistakes had no need to waste such a tremendous energy upon. You may go now."

"Thank you, milady!" she held her head down before walking off but you had a bunch of curiosity you'd been dying to ask since awhile, and the maid seems the fairly perfect person to ask.

"Stop."

"Y-y-yes, milady?"

"I want you tell me about something-"

And that question was how the lady had got into an accident, since you overheard the passing maid that the lady had been in a coma for almost a month, and no one outside the manor was to be inform about it. That she had to be acclaimed as all well and safe. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering how and why?

How did she got into one and why are they trying to keep it? Sure, the lady had such a bad temper and merciless indeed that she definitely would have plenty of souls desiring to get back on her while she's rendered unconscious. But surely, it ain't that serious? It isn't as if the young lady had a status as high as the princess or the queen.

Your curiosity were confirmed though as the young maid told you everything; that the lady had attended a noble event as she often did so her entire life, a daily occurrences for nobles like the prince and princesses, duke and duchesses and their children, royal officials and high status people to attend to. However on that fateful day, the lady had a dance with a prince and as they do so on the dance floor. The chandelier above the ceiling tragically fell on top of them; the lady and the prince.

It wreck a horrendous havoc in the ballroom and the guards immediately gathered before their unconscious bodies.

The rest was history, and only the young lady's father the Duke and a few royal officials had a knowledge about this tragic incident. Not even the young lady's brothers had any knowledge of it as they were currently out the state. They kept it a secret as to find the culprit, because once the news of the young lady and the prince being in a state of coma came out; the culprit certainly would come back.

Regarding the prince, no one had known how he is currently now. Only assuming that he, too, might still be in a coma just like you are.

The chandelier.. it sort of the same as the incident on the theater. How is this possible? Could this be a mere coincidence?

"That's all I can say, milady."

"Ah, I couldn't thank you enough." you rubbed her hand which causes her cheeks to flushed in both shock and embarrassment, her eyes beaming as she nodded frantically.

"You can count on me, milady!"

You've decided for now to go on easy on them, for now, that is. It's quite difficult to make a decision for this body that doesn't belong to you. But you'd have to ease up a little, and observe your surroundings by studying everyone's characters in this manor. By then, you'll definitely know what to do until you can think of a way to get back to your real life.

A few days had passed since then, and surprisingly they had called atleast a few private doctors the manor had, and yet they couldn't exactly tell what was wrong with you. You rolled your eyes, how could they? How could a doctor could possibly know that you were another soul, from the modern era in someone's body. Might as well call the shaman for this, but you ain't gonna risk that and possibly had yourself labeled as a witch.

Sighing, just why every door has terrible outcome behind them?

Apparently, after a series of failed attempts, the doctor simply assume that you might have an amnesia. Of course, they were skeptical as the chandelier didn't even collide against your damn head so how could you even? Trauma? Probably. That's why the doctor had asked for you to recuperate first and they'll return after a two weeks.

"We can never tell more than five people as it would surely start a rumour and possibly threaten the house of Solon, especially you, milady, has a significant position in the political affairs along with your father, the Duke."

"Losing a fragment of memories, is a fatal mistake. If by any chance it is proven, we had to keep it as a secret. We surely would help you regain your memories back by then, milady."

You could only nod and go along with them as you sipped through your teacup. What else have you to say? Your only one priority is to get back to your old life as soon as you can. Who cares what they are up to?

Somewhere in the manor's quarters—the news quickly reached the every and each person's ears, causing havoc and surprise onto everyone's faces.

"So it's due to the lady losing her memories, that she's treating us good now?"

"I didn't know that was possible!"

"Ha, we could use this to our own advantage."

—♚—

Over the course for the past few weeks, you brought a hell lot of papers with you, stacking them up in the library where you could see them easily.

A role.

Another role, the young lady; you studied the young lady's character by gaining as much as information you could gather by the maids and guards, or anything you could lay your eyes on, either by blatantly asking them or by sneaking in to their conversations.

Taking a deep breathe in, your eyes fluttered as it opens—the dust particles floating in the sun rays flew past your vision, the background gradually growing vague and blurry. Lifting your feet, and another one and so on through the entire room; imitating the lady's way of walking, and how she carries herself, how she talks, how she reacts, how she gaze at someone depending on who they are.

It wasn't perfect, for the information was tremendously limited. However, you had to do best with what you only have.

Somehow, you notice yourself growing somewhat petty and impatient in this body. You weren't entirely sure if it's a fragment of the lady's personality, or yours. It's just that, you tend to voice out without thinking much nowadays which kind of scares you.

Sighing tremendously like any other day you did as you sat on the bench in the center of the garden, where you've been seating yourself for quite awhile now to revise your plans but for some reasons which had you annoyed was another maid standing beside you. You tried to hushed her away before but she reasoned with you that she was assigned to look after you, for you still haven't recovered. How are you suppose to do it with her presence then?

"Look at me, I'm already walking!"

"But, milady. It's dangerous."

"Oh god, leave me alone." Standing up on your feet with these pair of heels drilling a hole on your sole, you lifted your gown, grabbing your heels much to the maid's utter shock and went on your way to the manor, completely bare feet. Thinking of what to eat for today before doing the rest of what you want to do in your room instead. Scrap the fresh air while revising your plans, seriously.

"Milady!" the maid held the need to ask for you to slow down as she gradually increase her speed after you who were obviously trying to evade her.

The sun must be plotting to burn you alive today, seriously. Sure, it was nice to live in such an extravagant, wealthy ass manor but it reminds you nothing but of your parents, totally irritating.

Hm?

You paused on your tracks when your peripheral vision caught sight of an intricate carriage pulling up in the entrance. Curiosity engulfed your foggy mind as you squint to take a good look of who's inside it.

"Milady!—ah!" The maid almost stumble on your back, gulping immensely down her throat as she almost sell her life for the day.

“Who’s.. that?”

The maid followed your line of vision, eyes widening at what met her sight. “Oh! That is Sir Noa!"

"N-noa?"

"Yes! Milady, that is the third son of the Solon family, young Marquess Noa. It is your younger brother, young lady.”

Your younger brother.. your younger brother? your younger brother—what?!

Wait-what? You let out a breath of gasp as the young tall man with humongous dark aura circulating over him—step one foot each closer and everything behind him grew smaller. His intimidating orbs softens into spring like gentle of the petals and his lips kisses his rosy cheeks as he continued to get closer, closer..

And closer.

“Young lady.”

His hair—as if a silk fabric of black and golden blond pouring altogether like a brewed tea to the quarters of a patterned teacup. Pouring down over to cover bits of his flattery eyelashes. His voice; just so much akin to his aura yet it seems like as if he intentionally softens his vocal chords to match your feeble form, yet still strong enough as if to acknowledge your presence.

“I’ve came home.”

"U-uh, welcome home?" you gave him a small smile, unsure if it's the right thing to do but still it won't hurt since he's supposedly the lady's younger brother, right? Fuck. You seriously have no idea, you forgot to ask the maid whether the lady and this boy are close enough.

Yet the first thought you had was, just how old the hell is this boy for him to be this tall?!

He cleared his throat. "I had to say that I missed you alot after horrendous months without being by your side, sister. How have you been doing?

You're about to cringe, he called you sister? What are you supposed to say, brother? I'm certainly doing fine, brother! Or, why are you even asking this, brother? Or, i've just went to—ugh! Just go along with it, seriously!

Shaking your head with a small smile forming on your lips, "I'm doing all well, brother."

His eyebrows knitted in utter confusion. Well shit, was that a wrong call?! "B-brother? Have you ever called me that?"

"U-uh-"

"Sir," the maid exclaimed a tad bit loud for your throbbing ears, "The lady are currently recuperating after falling into terrible sickness, I had to bring the lady to get her daily meds right now."

"Wait? Sickness?" Noa furrowed, the bright smile on his face dissipates as worry consumed his heart. "Milady, are you- no, I assume you don't feel any pain, now?"

"Y-yes, I rested alot, actually."

Noa was about to say something but held the need to do so, opting to brought his usual smile. "I was actually wondering if we could have a sparring session by noon like we always used to, but hearing such terrible news made me think that we could do that some other day."

Uh? S-sparring session? W-what is he saying? You stuttered as you ask him. "Sparring session?"

"May I be as bold as to get your permission again to hold a sparring session with you milady, as we often did? I've improved quite more than you think, milady."

What the fuck are you suppose to say? What in the sparring session is he saying? Swords? Fighting swords? And does he mean the real heavy words that the knights used?! The sword you used during theater are only made out of plastic, and was the only material you practice during lessons, so you couldn't imagine how the real swords would feel on your palms. It dawned on you on that one particular day that you tried to grab the real deal of a sword in an exhibition, and your wrist almost break in a half because of it!

What are you supposed to say now? Should I reject it? Should I take it? But he was asking for my permission! But keyword was freaking 'again'! It means the lady has never rejected her younger brother's request for sparring session! What should I do? You weep into your internal void.

"Sure." your tongue betrayed yourself, well goodbye to your life. The young man instantly had a smile so beaming it blinded your vision, saying a few more words before he soon took his leave, pressing a soft kiss on your hand before doing so.

"Oh, shit." you stood there, utterly frozen.

"Milady, you—yourself often went to sparring session with the guards whenever you had a slight change of mood, or when you need to take some fresh air. It was a usual hobby you and your younger brother often do together—what's wrong milady?"

"N-nothing, it's just the heat, I assume."

—♚—

A dinner with your supposedly younger brother for now turn out to be fairly serene, not that you'd expect it to be utter chaos but you were thinking that he would bombarded you with numerous questions, however you were beyond glad that it isn't the case. You took numerous glances at him taking a couple of sips from his teacup, as he thumbed through the pages of his book.

Noa, seems rather quiet than what his outer demeanour looks like—you'd expected him to atleast be bold or atleast a sharp tongue alike his piercing orbs. However, maybe it's too early to say. Plus, he probably has a different treatment towards each person. So were you actually right that he had a close relationship with his sister, the lady?

Time will only tell.

Ugh, this is trouble. You couldn't stop your hand from trembling pathetically even when you gripped it with the other as you walked side by side with Noa to the site where the sparring session will be held. You were about to cry over how scared you were and seriously, you actually thought that maybe you could pretend over how weak you are due to your sickness. Ha! That's it, that's definitely it. Play swords with him a little and then pretend you got hurt, fall to the ground, and faint! Perfect.

Determination blazes your orbs, as you stood before the young man who has now a pair of swords on his palms. With a bright grin on his face as he twirls the other onto his right hand, showcasing his talents to you. Huh, this kid. It's as if he's trying to show you how good he is in such an odd way. But that's normal isn't? A little kiddo proving his strength to his older siblings?

"Milady, here." the sword on his left palm caused you to sweat cold despite the scorching sun above the sky. You formed a smile awkwardly, wondering how you could even grab the sword.. Should you grab it with your two hands? But wouldn't that make it too obvious for the boy? You're dead either way, honestly.

Circling your fingers beneath the handle had you shutting your eyes tight, gripping it—afraid of what is about to happen.

"Sister?"

Your eyes shot open upon his voice calling out for you, concern adorning his sharp features. "Are you okay?"

"O-oh yes?" You forced a smile, "I am, no need-" Hold for a freaking second, what is this? Your widened orbs fell on the sword on your right hand, squinting at how oddly.. light it was. Like it wasn't heavy at all? Huh- oh my god?

Don't tell me that this is perhaps because of the lady's body? That she is probably capable of swordsmanship? Why have you never heard from the maids about the lady's skill in swordsmanship? Did they or did they knew about it? Either way, you had to find it out later. As your mind were currently amazed that you had never thought that you would gain her strength! How could you forget? It is your soul that currently hosts the lady's body.

You were beyond ecstatic to hold a light sword, amazed by your newly found ability, you tried to swing the sword in such a way that it feels like clouds. This is it. You could push through this and not risk your life before the lady's brother.

"Sister, that's not how you hold a sword."

Uh? Your eyes terribly widened, instantly holding yourself from playing with the sword any further. Alerted by his words, you were dumbfounded over what to answer.

A low, lighthearted giggle instead met your ears. "I didn't know that you, my sister, had the ability to joke?"

Shaking his head in amusement, "Everyday you intrigued me, sister." launching his sword up in the air, you prepared for his attack by dodging it slightly.

Your speed. That was new. Your vision fixated on every motion of Noa's tight grip on his sword as he prepares for another attack, somehow someway—his movement sort of felt like quite slow to you.

It's not that he's slow, it's that you could calculate his movement in a tremendous speed that you could dodge it easily. Amazement consumed your thoughts that this is truly the lady's ability. Pulling a slight smirk, you raised your sword and in an instant—it collided against Noa's, a total stare down occurs for a couple of seconds when you caught his eyebrows furrowing.

Huh?

He pulls away, stepping backward as he twirls his sword in his index finger.

"Why did you?"

Tilting his head sideways back and forth, he lets out a tiny scoff which had your stomach churning. "Nothing in particular, milady."

"Right- Agh!" you shut your eyes tight at his inhumane speed, beyond surprised at his impatience of not letting you finish your sentence. He's too strong, too much strong for you. Noa tightened his grip on his handle, pressing the blade's weight even harder on yours which causes your foot to lose it's footing, stumbling slightly but before you could prepare, you gasped at Noa raising his arm up in the air, launching the sword onto your face.

Is he trying to kill me?! Why is he getting faster each second?!

You pushed up your sword against his blade almost as fast as you, yet once again you were beneath the soil and he has the upper hand. You tried to counterattack against him but you yelp in pain when he suddenly pulls away once again, causing the blade to graze against your palms.

“Sister!?” Noa immediately get on his knees, his voice stuttering as he took your wounded hand in his. His lips blowing a breeze on your hand, causing you to frowned as you hissed at the slight pain. You observed him looking after you with the utmost care, as if you truly meant a lot to him, or the lady, apparently.

“Sister? May I ask you something?”

“Y-yes brother?” shit, that sounds too awkward for you to be honest. You could never get used to it.

"You're not her, aren't you?" A deathly silence occurs as he lifted his attention on you with his intense sharp upturned eyes that held infatuation awhile ago, but now a cold indifference inside.

You froze, “H-huh?”

Your maid's jaw dropped upon falling on your form, dropping the laundry basket she was holding as she strides off to you, “Milady! Are you okay?!”

Noa raises his palms at the approaching maid, "Stop right there."

H-how did he know? Your hand clutches the hem of your dress, your inner heart shaking vigorously as he took each step closer to you. Instinctively lowering your head down as his purplish and golden woven patterns on his collars came into view, the sunlight being covered by the growing grey dark clouds.

"The young lady ain’t this feeble and pathetic, weird isn’t?” his voice strikes your rampant heart cold and deep akin to the glint on his sword, wrapping his hand around your wrist, tightening it much to your growing pain. “She could never make such trivial mistake and yet, you did."

“Noa, what do you think you’re doing?!” You exclaimed, you tried to hold the lady's character and yet you can't help the way your heart was shivering to your core. How can you when this guy before you is just as much as his sister?! "Touching me without my permission like this is atrocious!"

They emitted a total intimidating aura, with those piercing orbs threatening to devour you alive. You had a slight wonder if he had the same infamous hobbies as his sister? Those eyes held downright blood lust inside it, you couldn't imagine how far he would go once he knew that you weren't the young lady. You couldn't even have the opportunity to study this man at all! You've failed!

"And you see, I've been observing you for quite awhile. The way you carry yourself, the way you turn and look at me—is nothing alike the young lady.”

How did he notice? How come?! You've studied the young lady's character very well, you imitated every single thing of her and yet he notice and are able to see through you. Wasn't there enough information? Have you made the wrong call?

A scoff of disbelief escapes his lips as his dragon eyes narrowed even further, “And you see, the young Lady has never called me by the name Noa when we're by ourselves together."

You tried to keep yourself still and firm as he keeps closing the distance dangerously between you both.

“She..” his voice turns into a feathery like brush against the edges of your lips, yet held a thousand prickly needles along the tip. “—calls me Riki.”

Your eyes widened horribly at his words. Well what in the actual fuck, congratulations, you're officially being sent into the coffin! How could you ever know of a nickname between siblings?!

His eyes sharp and intense, akin to dragons roaring thunders and fires mixing with thousands of swords bound to rip your flesh apart. He grabbed your wrist even tighter you could let out a yelp yet you held the need to do so as he pulled you closer, forcing you to look at his intense spiraling dark orbs.

“Who are you?”

What are you supposed to say now? This man is no fool. One word and he might, no—definitely he would rip your head apart for fooling him. After all, the lady's are deemed to be a wicked person, then how couldn't he as her younger brother turned out to be the same well?

Think, (Name)! Have your skill had truly gone to waste? Your palms supporting your torso had been trembling so much you swore you are about to faint.

“Huh? Am I seeing this right? Marquess Noa using such force against his older sister?” an unfamiliar face appeared in the distance, approaching you two. "That's quite un-gentleman of you, I fear."

You observed as Ni-ki’s eyes rolled in annoyance before he turned over his shoulder and it gave you a clear view to the person in question. “Perhaps, you shall keep your pathetic nose inside your quarters, shouldn’t you, General?”

Shrugging his shoulders, the man did. “I don’t know,” your rattled orbs fell upon a jet black slicked hair, faint smirk paired with those glowing grey orbs, a scabbard hanging down his hips as his overalls consists of intricate patterned jacket over his inner black shirt with few buttons off, exposing his well toned chest and neck adorned with gleaming jewels. “Maybe we shall ask you then, milady?”

Who the fuck is this other guy?! Why they keep appearing one after another?! Can't they give you a break?! You were beyond cornered as if your feet were on the scattering edge of the cliff with those two pair of orbs looking down at you—their intimidating and piercing aura threatening to consume you akin to an enormous eagle and a hissing black panther before you, who's only a mere tiny bouncing bunny.

Would this really be the end of your life?

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

💌TAGLIST: @rikimylove , @nopenopebutyepyep , @fairycheol , @strvlveera , @vbxrin , @xxvyjoy , @pleasantfestivaltriumph , @txtmetonight ,

[kinglyisms-a]

♚ — @ebresos ;; Eric & Siius.

   Siius wanted to meet Ceto’s best friend and he didn’t see the problem with that. He had talked about his friend, the Angel of Fate, and Siius was curious enough when he mentioned he lives with some insane people. Perhaps, one insane person would have been more accurate. Zero was their friend too, kind of, and Eric was–Eric. But, he brought the man along with him to the Manor and let himself inside easily when the door opened for him. He held it for Siius, made sure he ducked when stepping inside, and then closed it behind him. 

   Finding Adriel after that was easy, the Angel had likely sensed him when he got close and was already waiting by the door when he turned around. Dressed for outdoor weather with gardening gloves on and a sunhat, the young man tilted his head slightly at the sight of Ceto with–a man. A very tall man, very weird looking man, who was wearing a scarf in a desert. Extra weird then. He blinked and Ceto moved a bit closer, motioning toward Siius. “A friend.” 

   “Friend doesn’t give a name. He has a strange soul.” 

   “Vurnoki.” The word doesn’t come from the stranger but rather the man that had just reached the bottom of the steps silently, causing Ceto and even Adriel to start. He was so quiet for someone so tall. Eric blinked simply and then slid his gaze away toward the direction of the kitchen. “Thought they were extinct…” Reasonable assumption on his part. His father had never corrected him either, usually that means he is correct. “Is Zero still outside?” A glance toward Adriel who nodded his head once. “I’ll make tea on my own then.” 

   And there is genuine fear that crosses the Angel’s face at that even as Eric makes his way confidently toward the kitchen as silent as before. “Don’t–he can’t make tea on his own.” 

[rosietrace]

『 Thunderstorm comforts 』

Ocs featured: Roya Callistis, Gwendolyn Schnee(@starry-night-rose), Davidson Novellion, Noor Jawahir(@windbornearchon)

Synopsis: Roya hasn't seen Gwen since the storm started.... Where is she?

Warning(s): Implications of trauma, thunderstorm, Davis being an annoying fuck /j , potentially ooc

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♚ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱♚⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤† Roya Callistis, the fallen prince

Where is she?

That was what Roya thought, constantly wandering the halls of his own castle just to search for Gwen.

His beautiful Gwen.

“I haven't seen her ever since the storm…” Roya murmured, furrowing his eyebrows as he continued walking.

He soon ran into Noor and Davis.

Pursing his lips, he awkwardly approached the two of them. In response, Davis audibly clicked his tongue before Noor could give him a look of amused disapproval.

“Um…” Roya thought about what he was going to say before continuing. “Have you two seen Gwen?”

Before Davis could open his mouth and make a sarcastic comment, Noor replied to Roya.

“Sorry, Roy-Roy, but we haven't,” she said, soon deciding to cover Davis' mouth before he could say…. Anything. “Alas, it appears you also haven't seen her.”

Davis rolled his eyes. “Wow, Noor, thanks for stating the obvious,” his words were muffled, but Noor's hand wasn't enough for Roya to not be able to understand what his cousin was saying.

“Ignore that,” Noor interrupted. “Why are you looking for Gwen, anyway? Would've thought you two and your lovesick puppy following would always be together.”

Sure, Roya narrowed his eyes when Noor called him and Gwen ‘lovesick puppies’. And yes, he may have blushed a little when she said they'd always be around each other.

But at that moment, that was the least of his worries.

“I'm afraid that isn't the case at the moment,” though flustered, Roya's vocabulary remained the same. “I haven't seen her since the start of the thunderstorm.”

Humming, Noor began pondering why that was the case. All of a sudden, in an effort to remove her hand from his mouth, Davis licked the back of it before making a beeline past Roya.

Gasping in horror, Noor began following him. “GET BACK HERE, ASSHOLE-” she stopped herself from following him to tell Roya:

“Hope you find your snow queen, snow king.”

And with that, she began running across the castle halls towards Davis, determined to get vengeance for him licking the back of her hand.

Roya watched her chase after his cousin until they were out of his line of sight. When that happened, he sighed, looking at the ground.

I wonder….. Roya thought. Where could she be?

He had already searched most parts of the castle that she frequents. Such as: The kitchen, the outside gardens(or at least what can be seen of it from the inside), the indoor gardens, his room….

And then it hit him. There was one part of the castle that he had yet to search.

Gwen's guest room.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Roya blushed in embarrassment as he entered Gwen's room. It wasn't because he witnessed something embarrassing, but rather he was embarrassed about intruding on her personal quarters.

He made sure to remind himself to apologize to Gwen for intruding once he found her.

As he opened the door, he heard a thump.

Flinching ever so slightly, the weight of the holster on his waist suddenly became prevalent in Roya's subconscious.

But then….

“Ah- Ow…”

His guard lowered, hearing a familiar, soft, and sheepish voice. “Gwen?” he called out curiously.

He was replied to with silence.

He called out again. “Gwen?”

Silence yet again. Before he could utter her name a third time, he heard a soft sob.

From Gwen's voice, under the bed.

Immediately, Roya checked under the bed, to find Gwen curled up underneath - tears falling down her cheeks as she hugged her knees.

“.... Gwen?”

Suddenly, Gwen looked Roya in the eye. “R-Roya!” she finally said, wiping any tears on her face to hastily leave the bottom of the bed.

“U-Um…” Both of them knew she was struggling to say something. “Y-You weren't supposed to see that-”

She was pulled into a hug by Roya. A tight, yet comforting, hug.

And the tears filled the brim of her eyes once more.

“.... Are you okay?” Roya asked, pulling away and gently grasping Gwen's shoulders. “Did something happen?”

Remaining ever so sheepish, Gwen hesitantly shook her head. “I-It's fine…”

Roya frowned. “Gwen, you and I both know that it isn't fine.”

“R-Roya please,” she stepped back, turning her back on him and looking down at the carpet. “I-I don't want to argue over-”

The sound of thunder booming cut her off. In an instant, Gwen was down on her knees, covering her ears for dear life.

Quiet, vulnerable sobs were what Roya heard next.

And that was when he realized - Why she hadn't been seen ever since the thunderstorm started.

“Gwen…,” he went on one knee, pulling her close to his chest. “... Are you afraid of the lightning?”

Gwen gulped, nearing the brink of breaking down into sobs. “I-I-”

The crackles of thunder soon returned, and she felt her breath hitch while grabbing onto Roya as if her life depended on it.

Saddened by her current state, Roya repositioned himself in a way that had Gwen on his lap while he sat on the ground, holding her close to his chest.

“Hey….” his voice was but a whisper. Soft, gentle. “It's okay… I'm here..”

She sobbed into his shoulder, all the more afraid of the thunder that kept on crackling as the moment went on.

Roya let out a breath, rubbing circles on Gwen's back as he shushed her into a state of comfort.

“Shhh…” he could care less about the tears that stained his clothes. At the moment, Gwen and her feelings were what mattered.

He kissed the top of her head.

“It's going to be okay.”

♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♚ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝

Taglist(Pls inform if I forgot anyone!)

🥥 @starry-night-rose • @windbornearchon • @authoruio • @sakuramidnight15 • @fumikomiyasaki • @nem0-nee

@revolllutionary @celiica @oseathepebble @twsted-princess @geminiiviolets @vivaresmala @vaporvipermedia @crazyyanderefangirlfan @spadecentral

[sordidery]

∘ ▫ ♚ richard campbell gansey iii & shakespeare aesthetics.

romeo & juliet. suburban july. scraped knees. bruised knuckles. blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in the breeze. burning inside. an ill - fitting party dress. a t - shirt you cut up yourself. the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friends house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with a sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn looking basketball hoop at the end of a cul - de - sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip - flops. a eulogy written on loose - leaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet. speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn. mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you'd say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins. books with cracked spines. books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls' day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. the uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. an oversized t - shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil beneath your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night. wicker deck furniture. new england summer. large sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean. patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. the smell of chlorine. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love. love for the idea of love. love for love's sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar. fishermen with tattoos. a pretty boy with a slacked tie. a lighthouse. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. big, floppy sunhats. double - speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drank on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you're unprepared for. hope you weren’t expecting. pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth. the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat. the stillness after a battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. the smell of sulfur. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. a chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path. an owl that watches you. a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke, dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now.

much ado about nothing. the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck. military supply duffel bags in the hall. hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch. a pitcher of iced tea. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. ill - timed proclamations. stomach clenching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen. a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog - eared rhyming dictionary. chamomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you're home until you’re there.

king lear. cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lighting, a too big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red - black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown out windows of a skeletal house. decay. jokes that aren't jokes. biting your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods. wondering if the gods are listening. worrying that the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream. the smell of wet soil and dead leaves. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill someone slipped you. fear that turns into excitement. excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hallow in an old tree. glow in the dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

tagged by: @oddyseas. im smothering u in kisses and u cant do shit about it. tagging: @altarcup, for sabran or lestat or alice! @dreamlorn, love u. @damsul. @thanatologies. @wildkissed, for the trc kids or van or mal! @zerorisk, for the driver or grace!

[piers-official]

유: Who was your first muse?

♚: Do you and your muse get along?

((@underground-boss-clay ))

// My VERY first muse I RPed on tumblr was from a bit of niche fandom. There's a music video from Fall Out Boy called "America's Suitehearts", and I roleplayed the drummer Andy's, character 'Donnie the Catcher'. He wore lots of green, played sports and loved to garden! He still holds a soft spot in my heart, and I believe his blog is still up, although it's been like... 10 years now? Here's what he looks like:

I still love the fandom and reblog stuff from it on my main blog~

//I think Piers and I would get along! We're both a part of the punk scene and pretty easygoing in attitude. But I miiiight be biased because I have a crush on Piers already lmao

[world-of-wales]

THE PRINCESS DIARIES ♚

30 JANUARY 2025 | CARDIFF : TŶ HAFAN CHILDREN'S HOSPICE

The Princess of Wales carried out engagements in Cardiff. She started out her day by visiting Tŷ Hafan, a children’s hospice based in Sully.

Tŷ Hafan supports families in Wales to ensure that children with life-shortening conditions live fulfilling lives, supported with the compassion and specialist care that they and their family need.

The visit was in conjunction with Kensington Palace announcing that Catherine has become the new patron of the hospice following in the footsteps of Diana, Princess of Wales and King Charles.

During her visit, the Princess spent time with children receiving care at the hospice as well as their families. She then joined a ‘stay and play’ session were the children enjoy meaningful play and activities alongside their care.

Catherine also visited the hospice memorial garden and met with bereaved families supported by Tŷ Hafan throughout their children’s lives, deaths and beyond.

[addolais]

∘ ▫ ♚ squadron leader anwyn howell & shakespeare aesthetics.

romeo & juliet. suburban july. scraped knees. bruised knuckles. blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in the breeze. burning inside. an ill - fitting party dress. a t - shirt you cut up yourself. the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friends house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with a sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn looking basketball hoop at the end of a cul - de - sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip - flops. a eulogy written on loose - leaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet. speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn. mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you'd say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins. books with cracked spines. books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls' day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. the uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. an oversized t - shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil beneath your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night. wicker deck furniture. new england summer. large sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean. patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. the smell of chlorine. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love. love for the idea of love. love for love's sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar. fishermen with tattoos. a pretty boy with a slacked tie. a lighthouse. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. big, floppy sunhats. double - speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drank on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you're unprepared for. hope you weren’t expecting. pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth. the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat. the stillness after a battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. the smell of sulfur. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. a chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path. an owl that watches you. a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke, dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now.

much ado about nothing. the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck. military supply duffel bags in the hall. hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch. a pitcher of iced tea. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. ill - timed proclamations. stomach clenching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen. a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog - eared rhyming dictionary. chamomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you're home until you’re there.

king lear. cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lighting, a too big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red - black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown out windows of a skeletal house. decay. jokes that aren't jokes. biting your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods. wondering if the gods are listening. worrying that the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream. the smell of wet soil and dead leaves. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill someone slipped you. fear that turns into excitement. excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hallow in an old tree. glow in the dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

stolen from @trckstaer ! tagging : @woewept , @beac0ns , @lawved + anyone else that would like to !

[kinglyisms]

♚ — Residents & dating.

Hiroki: Prefers to go out, likes small restaurants and cafes. He'll pay for everything, wants to be out late, probably ends through a night time walk through the Castle gardens.

Toshiro: he's only 20. He doesn't know what he's doing. Probably suggest running in the woods? He'll catch you a deer.

Luka: Home. He can't cook so--he'll offer you a book to read. Sit on the couch with you?

Casimir: This man will spoil you and worship the ground you walk upon as long as you feed him. Date will include making out and or sex as long as the partner is willing. But please feed him.

Zero: What? Is? Dating? Needs guidance. Will take care of you, he is a Servant. Knows the best ways to make someone comfortable. Probably needs to be reminded this isn't a one sided things and that he's not currently working whoopse.

Elliot: Would like to go out to the bar, get a bit of alcohol in them, fool around.

Akira: Work-a-holic. How do you go on a date with unfinished work? He likes picnics especially amongst the flowers.

Elijah: Can it be some place that Silas can go? But also willing to do a nice, quiet and romantic restaurant if his parents can watch Silas. He's a gentleman, he'll treat you good so long as you don't mind him rambling about his kid all night.

Wyatt: Fuck you. Fuck your offer for a date. Fuck dating. Fuck love. Fuck emotions. Fuck him over Starlight's bar.

Amir: Secret. His mother can't know. Quiet dinner at home. He'll cook.

Satoru: Does it involve touching? He loves museums, aquariums, bookstores, libraries, he'll take you to see history. Then a nice dinner, a walk in a park, and back home.

Adriel: Quiet. Quiet place. He's not above people watching through. Crowds do make him nervous. He's always willing to try something at least once, he hasn't gotten out much, the idea of a movie at home sounds inviting. Just not HIS house.

Eric: If you get him out of the manor he'll go anywhere that isn't crowded. But, he prefers to be home. Zero will cook and prepare the bath. But he'll still take care of you, probably sit on the edge of the tub and gently help you wash up. Let's play a game of chess after or read together.

Artemis: Hey. Wanna go on a date in the woods? A scavenger hunt? Some hunting? First one to find the buried heart gets to kiss the other.

[burnedglory]

×, ♠, ♚  - for Ron

meme night

× - what does your muse smell like? what perfume/cologne are they using?

i think that he would smell nature-y! going based off what hermione smelt in her amortentia, one of the odors was ‘freshly cut grass’ which fits in with the burrow. plus, i think that after the war, ron would have helped his parents out with maintaining their garden, so he’d smell of fresh herbs and flowers! ron would only wear cologne on dates or attending special events. he’d choose a wood-smelling fragrance for that, like what you’d smell in the forest or even at a campfire.

♠ any ‘weird’ characteristics on their body? one leg/arm longer than the other?

ron is a rather tall, lanky dude. his arms and legs are both quite long, so he often has to watch out to make sure he doesn’t bump his head on anything. aside from that, no real ‘weird’ characteristics besides scars on his arms from the brain tentacles that wrapped around him.

♚ do they have a favourite piece of clothing?

once molly stopped making ron’s christmas sweaters with maroon, those became his favorite, especially after the war when all he wanted was to be with his family. his quidditch robes from his time as a keeper are also dear to his heart, as well as his auror robes. both items of clothing signify special moments in his life where he felt the most confidant — being an unstoppable quidditch player and starting his dream career.

[poshfortqueen]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: LOFT Shimmer Garden Cowl Midi Slip Dress NWT Size 16.

[gonemadgirl]

———♚ ERA AESTHETIC GAME!!!

** Rules : ** bold the aesthetic that applies to your muse. repost, don’t reblog.

                             𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋.

tired eyes. coffee stains on the table. listening to the bustle of the city. unmade beds. ponytails. sunlight seeping through the curtains. chapped lips. walking barefoot across the floorboards. dusty dictionaries. black and white reruns. huge sweaters. the ticking of the clock. hearing birds in the morning. fireplaces. falling asleep during class.

                            𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

freckles. the sun rising. watching the sea. taking shots of the city. historical museums.bright eyes. looking up at the clouds. walls covered in artworks. drawing in the middle of lessons. tracing your fingers on the sand. painting for hours. staying in uncrowded coffee-shops. worn paperbacks. messy braids. going to bed with your kneesocks on.

                             𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄.

dark hair. a little sophisticated. always observing the world around you. intricate designs. high ceilings. extravagant musical pieces. dim lights. colorless photographs. fancy furniture. pale skin. hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room. mischievous looks.bitten nails. candlelight dinners. dark shades of lipstick.

                             𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.

chandeliers. the clinking of a teacup mug. laced clothing. modern architecture. light hair. watching the view from the terrace. hidden birthmarks. drinking tea in the morning. wandering about in an empty building. botanical gardens. old films. ancient marble sculptures. expensive perfume. breakfasts in bed. reading stories about mythology.

                             𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂.

compassion. short writings on scraps of paper. blushed cheeks. a bouquet of roses. reading collections of poetry late at night. loose hair. carpeted floors. attending operas. faint music playing in the background. staying under the covers until midday. the night sky.streetlights. picking flowers. dancing around in silk dresses. scented candles.