#Castle: Recoil

[detective-jane-rizzoli]

[renegadesstuff]

I'm still so impressed with Stana's performance in this episode. She carried it! 🤍

S5E13, “Recoil” aired 11 years ago (February 4, 2013) ❤️‍🩹

[nikki-rook]

There's another world out there Mr. Castle, one that most people don't see, run by money, influence, power, and the people in it will do anything they can to stay on top. But I assume that you already know that...

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

Stuck on the idea of vampires as a kind of reverse fae, or like someone's twisted, perverse attempt at moulding humans into fae.

They're repelled by liminal spaces.

A vampire could never enter fairyland, not just because they'd never be welcomed, but because most of the usual entry-ways are naturally barred to them.

They can't cross running water. They can't be seen in mirrors. They will wait forever at a crossroads, unable to pick a direction to go in. They can't even step over a thresh-hold unless there is absolutely no ambiguity about whether they are welcome inside.

They crave human blood, iron and salt, but are repelled by herbs and plants. They are supernaturally prevented from harming you unless the rules of hospitality have been invoked.

A fairy may replace your newborn child with something unnatural and ever-hungry. A vampire will do the same, but with your grandmother's corpse.

The fae are typically associated, even in stories where they're the bad guys, with flourishing and purity. Vampires, even in stories where they're the good guys, are typically associated with decay and corruption.

The fae turn ancient human burial mounds into fancy halls for their courts. Vampires take ancient human castles and let them grow mildewed and cobwebbed, exchanging the beds for coffins, turning them into burial places.

Fae don't tend to live among humans, but can generally pass for them with relative ease if they so choose. Vampires nearly always live among humans, but tend to find not revealing themselves a huge struggle.

I can't think of many stories I've read where fae and vampires even exist in the same universe, let alone ones where they actively interact. I feel like their enmity is almost more inevitable than that between vampires and werewolves, however.

The rivalry between vampires and werewolves is, essentially, the rivalry between two apex predator species who share a territory. (Even in stories where the werewolves aren't actually hunting humans.)

The vampires hate the werewolves because the werewolves interfere with their access to prey. The werewolves hate the vampires either because they consider themselves aligned with humans (the prey species), or because they are also predators and the vampires are competing with them.

By comparison, I think there's some story potential in the fae finding something genuinely creepy and uncanny valley about vampires.

They're immortal, like them, but also dead. They can be beautiful, like them, but that beauty is something they actively require humans to sustain. They like to inhabit beautiful and ancient ex-human dwellings, like them, but they actively work to make those places dark, damp and empty.

Fairies who are unflappable in the face of all sorts of Otherworldly monsters, can look an eldritch horror in the eye(s) without blinking, and have never been phased yet by any human, but will recoil from even the weakest vampire.

Vampires who hate fairies just as much, but in a more envious way. The way that the creature for whom immortality is a curse is bound to hate the creatures for whom immortality is an eternity of sunlight and laughter.

Maybe their touches burn each other. Maybe vampires can't stand physical contact with anything so alive and vital. Maybe immortal fairies become ill from too much exposure to the undead.

Maybe they fight over the human population when their territories overlap. The fairy need for servants and people to make deals with, competing with the vampire need for thralls and blood to drink.

Just… fairies and vampires. We need more stories about them interacting.

[thousand-winters]

I feel like people sometimes underestimate what a hard position Darius was in after bonding with Hunter.

Because here's the thing: It's not that easy to help someone who's being abused when they don't understand they're being abused. Especially when it comes to a case like Hunter's, in which not only was the person abusing him his family and legal guardian, but also the only person he was somewhat close to, since he was effectively isolated.

This isn't even speculation, it's clear in Hollow Mind. There's a degree of denial that comes with someone who hasn't been able to digest the fact they're being hurt because not thinking about it has been a survival mechanism for them. Having someone trying to change that perception of the world can make you lash out and snap, anything to preserve the carefully balanced status quo there. Anything to keep the one thing that has worked for survival.

Darius' options at this point were straight up kidnapping Hunter and lose all of his trust because Hunter would then think even more that he truly couldn't trust anybody but Belos, or try his best to become someone Hunter could trust, so when the time came, Hunter would know he was a safe person who could get him out of there.

Darius couldn't say outright "hey, kid, you're being abused and that's fucked up, let me get you out of here". Not with the layers of denial and fear Hunter had built because of Belos. The only thing that would have earned him would have been Hunter recoiling and pushing him away. Darius would have pushed him away even further into Belos' clutches if he had done that.

Of course, it feels terrible because we're not talking about, say, providing a safe space for a friend until they are able to get out of an abusive relationship, this is a child, but it's such a complicated situation. You can hardly call Child Protection Services on the Emperor of the Isles, provided they even have that in the first place.

Honestly I think Darius did the best he could have done and people who think he didn't do enough really do not give him the credit he deserves, because it's clear Hunter DID trust him, for him to be able to believe in him and let Darius reach out after running out of the coven, despite the intense fear and paranoia he had toward everybody from the EC.

Plus it's not only this single aspect that was on the line here. Darius had to be mindful not to accidentally push Hunter away and lose all the chances he had to get him out of that situation while at the same time being very aware he was being reckless by having the Emperor's nephew close to him when he was one of the main leaders of the rebellion.

He was risking so much here and he really didn't have to. He gave Hunter something to communicate with the world outside of the walls of the castle, he could have said "this is all I can do for him" and washed his hands off of him, continue his rebel work and just tell himself Hunter would be fine once they took down Belos.

But he didn't, he chose to be there, he chose to build trust, he chose to help as much as such a hard situation allowed.

He does not get enough credit for that.

[hisui-dreamer]

Hi, congratulations on 1k followers! I love your writing a lot and I was hoping you could do Villainess AUs with Malleus? Like isekai manhwa style? Thank you!!

the gazelle's sweet briar

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader

Synopsis: your first objective was to avoid the main characters, but it's not easy when you only have the memories of your friend's ramblings to work off of

Tags: cliché isekai plot, reincarnation, fluff, arranged marriage, tw (mentioned): bad parenting, patriarchal society, death

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: @coralinnii has an amazing series based on isekai villainesses, so i definitely recommend you check out her work too! im so in love with it (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there lived a villainess of exceptional allure, her visage as enchanting as a moonlit night. However, this bewitching beauty concealed a heart blackened by a singular obsession with appearances.

From the earliest days of her upbringing, her mother, a woman who had managed to step into aristocracy by charming a noble, had instilled in her a cruel belief: that those who were not blessed with physical perfection were destined for lives of relentless mockery and eternal solitude. This twisted ideology consumed the villainess' every thought, blinding her to the virtues of education and morality. She became nothing more than a porcelain doll, admired solely for her aesthetic charm.

The King arranged a marriage between her and Duke Draconia, the enigmatic descendant of the dragons who ruled the northern lands, believing that such a striking bride would surely please the reclusive Duke.

However, the King remained oblivious to the swirling rumours that pervaded the courtly circles. Whispers spoke of the Duke as a hideous man who had never once revealed his face, perpetually concealed behind a forbidding black mask. When the rumours reached the villainess' ears, she threw tantrum after tantrum, vehemently refusing to wed a man whose appearance couldn't possibly match her own.

Yet, a royal decree could not be denied. Reluctantly, the villainess embarked on her journey to the northern realm in bitter acceptance. It had rained the moment she arrived, the castle dark and uninviting, with thorns crawling onto the obsidian walls. The Duke, an oblivious and shy man, did not greet her at the grand entrance. Instead, she was met by the Duke's advisor, a man with a curiously boyish features.

Humiliation welled up within the villainess' heart, for she felt as if she were being played the fool by the entire duchy. On the eve of her arrival, anxiety gnawed at her like a relentless spectre.

As night descended, the Duke, mustering his courage, attempted to approach the vexed lady.

But when the villainess beheld his masked face, terror seized her like a vice. "Stay back! You hideous beast!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear, and she recoiled, her steps faltering as she retreated from him.

The Duke, wounded by her cruel words, attempted to console her, his outstretched hand beseeching understanding. Yet, her irrational dread overcame her, and she continued her backward retreat until, with a heart-stopping scream, she slipped from an open window.

That was how the villainess' life ended.

you hadn't actually read the book, but it wasn't difficult identifying who you got reincarnated as

especially with how your best friend obsessed over this villainess because, and i quote, "if pretty, why evil, huh???"

you woke up a week before the villainess would depart for the North, but that week alone was enough to make you understand the way she acted

every day, you were fed portions fitting of a child, had your skin rubbed raw as you were bathed, and not a moment of your mother's nitpicking about a sudden imperfection she found in you

in truth, you were more than glad to leave for the North, even if that's where your life would be on the line

the survival plan was simple: maintain an amicable relationship with the duchy until the night the heroine stumbles in to ask for a night of shelter, to which the heroine would heal the emotional wounds of the Duke, and share with him the beauty of love, bringing warmth into his heart

and so, you arrived at the estate, the castle tall and intimidating with the clouds dark and foreboding

still, you stepped out of your carriage (with wobbly legs) and met the advisor (your friend's favourite character, in fact)

the advisor, lilia, though seemed young, was actually the very man who raised the duke in the absence of his parents

he welcomed you as the lady of the duchy, and led you to your quarters

by nightfall, you were quite comfortable with living in the estate

everyone was polite, the food was delicious (and properly sized), and you had no doubt you'd settle nicely here

as a precaution to the death sequence, you decided to take a stroll in the rose garden after dinner

if you were already on the ground floor, you couldn't fall to your death, right?

but unexpectedly, you encountered a lone figure in the centre of the garden

he was incredibly tall, dressed simply, his emerald eyes fixated on the estate

upon closer inspection, you noticed he had long horns as well, perhaps he was a gazelle beastman?

either way, you were curious about what it was that held his attention so strongly that he couldn't notice your presence

"Excuse me, sir? May I ask what is so interesting about the building?" you timidly break the silence of the night.

The man turns to you, his eyes widening in surprise. "... Do you not know who I am?"

You blinked in confusion at his words. His words filled you with a sense of foreboding. You wondered if this person matched any of the characters your friend had so fervently described, but all you could recall was the beautiful villainess and the enigmatic advisor to the Duke.

"My apologies, I'm afraid I do not... May I know your name, sir?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he considered your question. "No... If that is the case, you may call me whatever you wish."

Perplexed by his response, you tried to come up with a suitable name. "Then... May I call you Mr. Gazelle?"

Upon hearing your words, he burst out in laughter. "Hahaha! What an interesting choice. Very well, I accept the name," he said. "In response to your first question, I was observing the gargoyles of the building."

on that night, not only did you learn more about the fascinating functions gargoyles serve, you also made your first friend in this life

strangely enough, you didn't meet the duke at all unlike the novel, which though strange, you greatly welcomed

if you didn't have any ties with him, then it'd be so much easier to just divorce him, get the money, and live a comfortable luxurious life far away from the main characters

though as you say that, you find yourself wanting to spend more and more time with "Mr Gazelle"

despite his intimidating appearance, he turned out to be a very generous person, frequently gifting you little trinkets he's made or bouquets he's arranged

he's started calling you "Briar", after the roses in the garden where he met you

you greatly appreciated the nickname, it felt better to be called that than the name of the villainess, that you could just be yourself and not play the role of a villainess avoiding ruin

you also find that whatever musings you've mentioned to him, they somehow manifest themselves

oh? you wish you could learn about embroidery? the next day there's a basket full of the highest quality threads and fabrics, with a gentle tutor to help you learn

(you still remember how cute "Mr Gazelle" looked when you gave him your first finished product, a handkerchief with an embroidered gargoyle)

what's this? you'd like to try more desserts from the capital you were never allowed to try? say no more! the next day the chef presents you with 10 different choices!

so you assumed he was an advisor of sorts to the Duke, because how else could your requests be granted so easily?

but one day, around two months after you started living in the duchy, "Mr Gazelle" asked you questions about the duke, whether you were afraid of him, would you prefer to meet him, curious questions like that

though surprised by the topic, you answered honestly, saying you don't really believe in the rumours (because you know from your friend he's an ethereal beauty) and yes, you would like to meet your husband

and what do you know? lilia informs you the duke wants to share dinner with you. what a coincidence!! :)

Nervousness held you in its grasp as you stepped into the room. Your gaze remained fixed on the carpet beneath your feet, and your knees bent gracefully as you executed the perfect curtsey.

"Your Grace."

You could hear sounds of shuffling, and then a pair of black boots entered your field of vision. Familiar hands found yours, guiding you to rise and stand upright. "Rise, my Briar," he murmured gently.

With hesitant anticipation, you finally looked up, taking in the obsidian mask that concealed his face. That voice, that nickname, and those enchanting eyes—it was all too familiar.

"Mr Gazelle..." you whispered in disbelief.

His eyes narrowed in mirth as he chuckled. "Although I hold great fondness for that name, I do wish you could call your husband by his name," he said as he began to remove his mask.

"Malleus..." you breathed.

A tender smile graced his lips, and his eyes sparkled with affection as he delicately brushed a stray lock of hair from your face—a gesture he had done countless times before. "My sweet Briar, I implore you to forgive me for deceiving you. I wished nothing more but to know you," he pleaded.

Oh, with how loud your heart was pounding in your chest, you realized that you were irrevocably and hopelessly ensnared in a love story that had deviated far from the original story.

But you didn't feel a single ounce of regret.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[my-castles-crumbling]

accidental eavesdropping - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 177 - slightly NSFW but not explicit

Being the Head Boy had a lot of perks. Getting away with more pranks. Unlimited access to the castle after hours. The ability to sneak off with Regulus whenever he pleased. Yes, being Head Boy was definitely one of James's favorite parts of his seventh year.

But of course, it also had downsides. Specifically, rounds. And what he overheard on them.

"Fuck Moony, yes, right there-"

"Yeah, baby? So good for me, Sirius-"

Recoiling with a gag, James moved away from the door of the broom closet he'd approached only seconds ago. Briefly, he considered leaving his two best friends alone to their activities, but then he remembered Sirius's reaction to finding James in a similar position last week.

"Oi!" he yelled, grinning, banging against the door. "Take your depraved shite somewhere else, sick bastards!"

There was a yelp and a bang, followed by Sirius's screech, "Fuck off, Prongs, or I'll tell Reggie about the time you missed when we were practicing shrinking charms and accidentally shrank your-"

"Right!" James said loudly, giving in and sprinting away.

[companionjones]

Enemies to Lovers?

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix)

Summary: A Witcher is regularly summoned to your kingdom to take care of a continuous monster problem. What will be your reaction to repeatedly having the Witcher in your castle?

Warnings: SMUT, Cursing

*******

    “I do not trust a hulking beast to ‘protect’ this kingdom, no matter how many times he comes crawling back to us,” you recoiled.

    Your mother spoke. “The Witcher did not come to us. We summoned him because of the unfortunate beacon for monsters our kingdom was built on.” She went on, “We may not...approve of his species; however, we do need help. That...unfortunately...comes in the shape of...What do they call you? The White Wolf?”

    Geralt used his voice for the first time since entering the room. “That is correct, your majesty.”

    Your mother sighed, “Alright. Tomorrow, your hunt for the Striga begins. As for tonight, let us drink and be merry to celebrate the quick return of our peace. Let the party begin!”

    With that, the hall erupted in cheers.

    Your mother turned her gaze back on Geralt and, with detest, extended, “You are welcome to join us, Witcher...just don’t touch anything.”

    You sat back in your throne with your arms folded. You rolled your eyes.

    Once the celebration started, you could only stay for so long before you were so repulsed you had to leave. You went back to your bedchambers.

    About fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at your door, You prayed it wasn’t your mother as you went to answer it.

    Standing on the other side of your door was the White Wolf.

    The two of you stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Then, you took a step forward and hastily captured his lips with yours.

    Geralt reacted just as passionately: he backed you up so the two of you collided with your door frame. From there, he picked you up bridal-style and carried you into your bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him.

    “Fuck, I missed you,” Geralt promised as he eyes bore into yours. He laid you on your bed.

    “I guarantee you that I missed you mor--hhnn,” you cut yourself off with a moan when his hand snaked up your dress to palm your drenched cunt.

    Geralt repeated, “I missed you,” he kissed you and went on, “This pretty pussy.” He kissed you again. “The sounds you make.” Geralt leaned down to start sucking on your neck.

    “I hate being mean to you like that,” you told him breathily. Your eyes were closed.

    Geralt started kissing down your neck and chest as he started working off your dress. He took breaks from your skin to remind you, “We have to keep us a secret. You know how your mother will react if she finds out.”

    “Do not bring my mother up now,” you warned, much to Geralt’s amusement. “...But Gods, the things she said to you tonight--” Suddenly, you gasped.

    Geralt had slipped two fingers inside of you.

    You whimpered out his name and gasped again.

    “It’s alright, my love,” Geralt coaxed in his deep voice as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “Relax. Feel my fingers.”

    “Geralt. Geralt, oh fuck. That feels so good.” One of your hands went to Geralt’s as you held his wrist close to your pussy. You were coming in no time. “Geralt-Geralt!”

    “Sh, shh,” hushed Geralt. He kissed your forehead. “I’ve got you. Cum on my fingers.”

    After you came down, Geralt helped you out of your dress. He then stripped off his shirt.

    You sat up. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this.” You smoothed your hands up his torso to circle your arms around his neck. You used that leverage to pull Geralt down to you.

    Geralt eased off his pants and promptly started grinding at your entrance with his sizeable cock.

    “Come on, honey,” you smirked, “You know you want to.”

    With a smooth smile of his own, Geralt sank into you.

    Your lips were still curled upwards as your jaw went slack.

    Geralt caught your lips in a bruising kiss as he pulled almost the whole way out of you just to thrust all the way back in. He swallowed your initial moan, just as he did each time he sunk into you.

    After some time, you broke off the kiss to warn Geralt in broken words, “Gonna...Gonna...Geralt!” you whined.

    “I know, sweetheart. Me too.” That last part was strained.

    Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your toes curled as you came. You felt your whole body tense up, then slowly release itself in pulses.

    Geralt released himself inside of you with two powerful thrusts. He grunted as he did so.

    When you opened your eyes, you saw Geralt above you, mixing his breath with yours. He slowly opened his eyes. “I love you.”

    Gently, you reached up to caress his cheek with your thumb. You pulled Geralt down for a slow, languid kiss. After it was over, you returned, “I love you, too.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it! I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more stories over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[peachdues]

THE SWEET FAR THING — SNIPPET

Knight!Kyojuro x Princess!Reader • Royal AU

A/N: yes, there’s going to be smut, but there’s also going to be angst (because who am I if not the connoisseur of angsty romance?)

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Rengoku exploded, whipping around to face you. The fire in his eyes could have burned you alive, could have reduced the magnificent castle around you to ash. “Do you think it does not tear me apart to know that you are meant for another?”

Rengoku swore violently, his outburst making you flinch.

“That I cannot have you the way I desire — and I do not mean merely taking you to bed,” the knight’s anguish was palpable as he gripped at fistfuls of his hair. “I mean that I cannot claim you as mine for the world to see; I cannot kiss you. I cannot marry you. I cannot love you.”

Once, his admission — his confession — of his true feelings for you would have made your heart soar. That he would’ve wanted you as ardently as you’d longed for him would have soothed the inferno raging with your heart; tamed it to a steady, tender flame that burned for him and him alone.

Now, you only felt cold.

“And yet you’ve still taken liberties with me,” you fixed your gaze upon the stone behind his head, unable to bear witness to the way he visibly deflated. “You have touched me and tasted me with abandon.”

Even the cadence of your voice felt foreign. “Some would even argue you’ve compromised my virtue.”

It did not matter if he’d revealed the depth of his feelings for you; the earnestness of his confession was poisoned by his own actions — by his disregard for you in favor of his own selfish wants.

Rengoku dropped his head in shame. “I know.”

Your accusation had been made in earnest, and yet you recoiled all the same from the ugly stab of his words.

It would’ve hurt less if he’d hit you.

An uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air until the knight roughly cleared his throat.

“And that is why I am to join the Hashira — why I am to leave the castle by the next full moon.”

Your lungs constricted harshly, your breath eking out of you in a pitiful, strangled wheeze. “Y-you’re —?”

His pained expression was a sure mirror of your own. “I cannot do it, Y/N,” he said roughly, not bothering with the formality of your title. “I cannot sit back and watch as you’re married off to another.”

The skin of his knuckles turned white as the knight balled his fists. “It is tradition that the Guards of both parties attend the consummation — to confirm the marriage is valid.”

Rengoku’s eyes screwed tightly shut, and his head turned stiffly to the side, as though he could avoid facing the ugly truth of it all. He exhaled harshly, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he worked to open his eyes once more.

“You cannot ask me to bear witness to that.”

And yet, he was asking you to endure life as a caged bird without even the hope to dream of flight; of him.

“If you leave, I will have nothing left,” you whispered, eyes wide and unblinking. “I will have no reason to continue on; nothing worth living for.”

Rengoku’s attention snapped to you in alarm. In a flash, he’d closed the distance between you, his hands locking around your shoulders, fingers digging uncomfortably — urgently — into your skin.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice low and full of anger. “Don’t ever say that. Don’t you dare even think it, not even for a moment.”

[renegadesstuff]

He was by her side from start to finish 🥺 Always 🤍

[just-some-user-hunny]

I hope Isekai!reader is firmly team green I’m sick and tired of characters born to Alicent being team black 💀 also I need to see her getting along with her platonic yandere FULL-blooded siblings instead of Rhaenyra (I beg you I don’t want to see her around here 😔🙏)

I think it'd be fun to write for team Green, I adore Helaena and Aemond's character, they're so interesting :) I really want to do some stuff on Alicent too, there's so much to get and it'd be fun to navigate what kind of relationship the reader would have with her in a yandere situation. She's really always done what she's been told to do, always following orders, even at her own expense. She's given and given, and although I think she is a questionable mother, I do feel so sad for her because she could have had such a wonderful life if it weren't for the people around her :( for once she has something- someone of her own.

I always see the comparisons of her children representing parts of herself, and for a yandere Alicent I feel that reader would represent the part of herself that dreamed for more outside the confinements of her life. You'd be her joy for life, and she's obsessively possessive over you. Perhaps since you'd be isekaid, you'd have a deeper understanding of her character as a whole. It's like you know her better than herself, and for once she feels seen. Not the heir creator, not the powerless queen, not the screeching mad woman. Just her. Just Alicent. You'd be her precious one, the only person who can see deep into her very soul and not recoil in disgust- only understanding. She needs that. She needs you.

Having her three children as your siblings as well would be another trial of its own. Still, going on the isikai!reader perspective, you've seen them grow up through your screen. Seen the challenges they've endured, so they'd also feel that attachment to you through your empathy and understanding.

Aegon would love you because you listen to him. He's seldom met with your eye rolls or enraged scoldings, and he deeply appreciates that. With you, he can smile. Genuinely smile. The one that makes his eyes crinkle like crescent moons and his smile lines to wrinkle like the ripplings in a still pond. He practically glows in your presence, like the sun.

Heleana, the sweet girl, often feels that you are the only one who can see her. You listen to her with full attention to her dreamy mutters and ramblings, never once raising a brow or finding her odd. You indulge in her fascination with bugs, and may even join her in collecting them out in the garden together. You two would be especially close, as she can't say she has many close friends like you, the person she can happily call her sibling. She is different, and you embrace that. Embrace her, and that's all she could ask from whilst in a family where she is often ignored.

And Aemond? Oh he is an interesting specimen. He's riddled with loneliness and lack of care, the added fire of his rage and cunning wit creating a frightening combination. He'd be extremely protective over you, often shielding you from harm and consoling you if anything upsets you. He's a little different, because although he takes as much affection and care as he can get from you like his siblings and mother, he also enjoys giving it back tenfold. Taking you out riding under his supervision, joining you in the gardens to read, having you watch him train. Your other family members would most likely keep you locked up tight in the castle to keep you as safe as possible, but he wants to give you at least some taste of freedom. As long as you are kept in his line of sight, of course :)

I may write more on isekai!reader since it's a fun concept, and delve into some more writing on team green. I adore Rhaenyra and team black, but both have plenty to explore and pick apart :)

[baelarys]

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫

Helaena targaryen X Lady lover reader

word count : 890

Warning : anguts

The castle was steeped in sadness and solitude after the news of Prince Jaehaerys's death. The sound of your footsteps was the only thing echoing through the halls as you headed towards Helaena's chambers, intending to console her. Before entering, Queen Alicent exited the room. You bowed respectfully before she departed.

Helaena stood with her back to you, facing a small table with Jaehaerys's toys, holding a blanket in her arms. Her sobs filled the room. You approached her carefully.

"Helaena," you called softly. The platinum-haired woman turned to look at you, her face adorned with a deeply sorrowful expression.

You took a few steps toward her, and without hesitation, she threw herself into your arms.

"I want to stay here," she protested through her tears. Otto had ordered the young prince's body to be paraded through the streets of King's Landing to its burial place.

"I know, I know, but you have to do it," you said, rubbing her back as she continued to cry on your shoulder.

You held her tighter, trying to convey all the warmth and strength she needed at that moment. Helaena sobbed, her tears soaking your dress. You remained silent, providing the comfort only the presence of a loved one can offer.

"I know this is terribly difficult," you murmured after a few moments. "But we must honor his memory in the right way."

Helaena nodded slightly, though the pain remained reflected in her eyes. You helped her compose herself, fixing her hair and straightening her dress.

"I'll be with you," you promised, firmly holding her hand. "You are not alone."

You sat next to her in the carriage, with the Dowager Queen Alicent on her left. The procession began to move, the urn carrying Jaehaerys's body ahead of you, surrounded by guards.

The townspeople crowded around, shouting Helaena's name and showing their respect for the young prince. Yellow petals fell over you, a silent tribute to the loss.

Helaena had held your hand since leaving the castle, fidgeting anxiously in her seat. You rubbed the back of her hand, trying to calm her. The crowd looked sadly at Prince Jaehaerys's urn, their faces reflecting shared sorrow.

"They're here for you and for him," you whispered softly, trying to offer comfort.

Helaena nodded weakly, though her eyes were still full of tears. The procession continued slowly through the streets of King's Landing.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped. The crowd began to move closer and closer to you, and Helaena started to panic. Queen Alicent also became alarmed as the guards tried to get the carriage moving again.

Helaena fidgeted anxiously, as if she couldn't breathe.

"Helaena," you called, trying to calm her, but she recoiled, seized by panic.

"You have to stay calm," you said firmly, taking her face in your hands so she would look at you, your blue eyes reflecting the same panic you saw in hers.

You hugged her tightly, trying to protect her from the tumult of the crowd around you until the carriage moved again. You felt her cry on your shoulder again, her anguish overflowing.

"I'm here with you," you whispered. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Helaena clung to you desperately, seeking solace in your closeness. Alicent, though worried, tried to maintain composure, trusting the guards to control the situation.

As the carriage resumed its journey, the crowd began to disperse, though the tension was still palpable. The guards redoubled their efforts to maintain order, allowing the procession to continue without further interruptions.

"We're almost there," you murmured softly, rubbing the back of her hand. "Stay calm a little longer."

Helaena nodded, her tears still flowing, but her breathing began to stabilize. Queen Alicent extended a comforting hand toward her daughter.

––––––––––

The room was dark and quiet, a contrast to the chaos outside. Helaena sank into a chair near the window, her eyes fixed on a distant point.

You knelt before her, calling her attention. You took her hands in yours and kissed the back of her hand gently, trying to offer her a small comfort amid her suffering.

"My sweet dreamer," you said softly, placing a hand on her cheek. She leaned into your touch, finding a brief moment of relief in your warmth. "I wish I could take all this pain away from you."

Helaena moved closer to you, her cheeks showing a slight blush at the affectionate nickname. She let a small sigh escape her lips as she sought comfort in your closeness. Tenderly, you left a chaste kiss on her lips before standing up.

"You need to rest,my love," you said softly, guiding her to her bed.

You helped her settle among the sheets, ensuring she was comfortable. As you leaned in to adjust the pillow, you noticed that her eyes, though filled with sadness, also reflected gratitude and affection.

"I'll be nearby," you murmured, stroking her cheek once more. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me."

Helaena nodded weakly, closing her eyes as she settled. You watched her breathing become more regular, though the pain was still evident in her expression.

With a final glance, you left the room. As you closed the door, you saw Jaehaera approaching, followed by one of the nursemaids.

You lifted her from the floor, prompting a delighted giggle.

"Where are you going?" you asked, smiling.

"I'm going to see mommy," she replied enthusiastically.

"Well, your mommy is resting now," you said tenderly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Why don't we go play in the gardens?"

Jaehaera's smile grew even wider as she nodded at your suggestion.

"Yes, let's go!" she exclaimed cheerfully.

You spent the time playing and enjoying her company, giving her the attention and affection she needed. In those moments, the weight of pain and sadness seemed to lighten.

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Prince Roier Hires a Faerie to Help With His Divorce (he hasn't gotten married yet)

For day two of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Fae/Kiss

-

Once upon a time...

Roier picks his way through the foliage with a grimace. His feet hurt, twigs keep smacking into his face, bugs keep flying into his mouth. This sucks, but it'll all be worth it.

Thunder rolls above, and rain starts pouring down without a second's warning.

...It'll all be worth it.

He's due back at the castle by morning, but, honestly, he'd kinda rather die than go back. If the wolves eat him, so be it!

Grumbling, he pulls his hood up over his head, and he continues onward. If he freezes to death out here, so be it!

He's not planning on going back to the castle alive, anyway.

Legend has it that, deep in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla, there lives a man-eating witch capable of tearing a man's soul from his body before he can so much as breathe in her general direction. Nobody knows this witch's name, but everybody knows that she's totally fucked up: if she isn't eating people, she's eating bears, and her magic is said to be as destructive as the eruption that created the universe.

Roier needs to meet her now.

So he continues trudging through the woods. The lantern in his hand is fighting to stay lit, and his boots are filled with enough water to drown a rat with, but he's fine. He's going to die miserable, but he's fine.

There's a flash of lightning bright enough to blind him, and then there's a crash of thunder loud enough to make him jump and nearly drop his lantern. When his vision returns, the tree in front of him is toppled to the side, leaving only a charred and smoking stump behind.

And then there's the cat.

Roier, frankly, stares. Because... what?

It's a cute cat, at least: brown with black stripes almost like a tiger's and blue eyes so bright that they almost seem to glow in the night. It sits on the stump with its tail curled around its paws, very polite, 10/10 cat.

Hesitantly, Roier approaches. He holds the lantern up to the cat, tilts his head, smiles.

"You're so cute," he coos, bending down to pet the cat between its little ears. "What are you doing out here, eh?"

The cat yawns, and then it huffs, "I could ask you the same question."

Roier screams and recoils and drops his lantern. It goes out, but the forest doesn't grow any dimmer because the cat is fucking glowing now, okay. Okay!

The cat rolls its eyes, tail twitching. "Okay, ouch. I'm not that scary."

"You're a talking cat," Roier breathes. "What the fuck?"

"What, you were expecting the witch?"

A pause.

Then:

"Oh, come on!"

Roier finally collects himself, brushing the water off of his cloak and adjusting his hood and picking up his lantern.

The cat stands and starts pacing the stump in a small, annoyed circle.

"The witch isn't even real," it complains. "She never was! Witches aren't real!"

Roier frowns. "Fuck you, man, my best friend is a witch."

"They aren't. Witches aren't real. Magicians are real, but witches-"

"You are literally a talking cat."

"I am a faerie," the cat corrects, sounding almost pained as it does so. "Faeries are real. Witches are fake. It's all anti-faerie propaganda created by the Federation-"

"By the what?"

The cat flicks his tail at Roier; Roier's mouth shuts, and, to his alarm, he finds that he can't open it again no matter how hard he tries.

The cat angrily swipes a leaf off of the stump. Unfortunately, it is really cute as it does so.

But then it starts complaining again, and Roier decides that this annoying fucking faerie cat isn't that cute after all.

"I haven't eaten anybody in centuries!" the cat shouts. "Fucking Cucurucho..."

Roier's eyes widen.

He waves at the cat until the cat does its magic thing again and allows him to talk.

First, Roier sucks in a deep breath through his mouth. That was uncomfortable.

Then, he says, "I know Cucurucho. I'm supposed to marry him in three days."

The cat's eyes narrow. Its shadow beneath it seems to grow; it tinges itself red like a pool of water with blood in it, wow. That's almost cool.

"That's why I'm here," Roier explains. "I need the witch to kill me so I don't have to marry him."

The cat sits.

"I see," it says. "Unfortunately, the witch isn't real."

"Suuuure, but you are." Roier sneaks closer. "Can't you just-" He opens his hands and wiggles his fingers. "-magic me dead?"

The cat stares at Roier's fingers. "Um. No. Faeries can't kill."

Roier deflates. "Ugh."

With a frustrated groan, he sits on the stump next to the cat. The cat grumbles, but it doesn't, like, magic him onto the ground, so that's kinda nice of it.

"But," the cat says, slowly as if questioning itself as it speaks, "I can get you to kill for me."

Oh. Now there's a thought. But...

Roier looks to the side at the cat. "I've tried. I'm pretty sure he's immortal, man."

"You haven't tried killing him with faerie magic. Now, come here."

The cat hops off of the stump and pads into the forest. After a moment, Roier follows.

They walk until they reach a hollowed-out tree. Then, the cat hops into the tree and mutters to itself as it looks for something.

Eventually, the cat pokes its head out of the tree with an opaque brown bottle held in its mouth.

Roier takes the bottle and turns it over in his hands.

"This," the cat says, "is extract of unicorn. Mix this in with Cucurucho's food, and he'll be dead by the end of the night."

Roier's mouth twitches. It'll happen, just like that? Just like that? Decades of oppression over just. Like. That?

"Okaaayyy," Roier drawls. He looks back up at the cat with a small smile. "Thank you."

The cat responds by clambering out of the tree and lounging on a branch hanging by Roier's face.

"No, thank you," the cat insists. "You'll be doing us both a favor if you manage to kill that asshole."

"If this kills him, you'll be a hero."

"Oh, I'm no hero. I'm just..." (The cat grins with far too many teeth in its mouth.) "...an invested party."

Well, the cat is probably evil. But that's fine. So is Cucurucho, and two wrongs make a right, right?

-

Well, wrong! Because Cucurucho isn't fucking dead.

Roier stomps back to the tree stump with the faerie's empty unicorn piss whatever bottle in hand. He doesn't have a lantern this time because, frankly, he really isn't intent on returning to the castle this time. If he trips over a root and dies, so be it!

The cat is nowhere to be seen. Of course, the bastard.

"Gatinho!" Roier calls. He cups both hands around his mouth and spins in a circle and continues shouting, "Gatinho! Where the fuck are you! Come here!"

No response.

Frustrated, Roier chucks the bottle to the ground and plops onto the stump. He puts his head in his hands and groans.

"I am going to fucking die," he moans. "I can't go home, I need to die, what the fuck."

A twig snaps. A presence ghosts over his shoulder, what feels like fingers grazing his tunic. But, when he snaps his head up and turns around, all he sees is the cat sitting behind him.

Roier's eyes narrow. "You."

"Me," the cat agrees. "Did it work? Is he dead? Please tell me he's dead. He's dead, right?"

"No! He isn't! He thought that unicorn shit was edible glitter! Now he wants it at the wedding!"

The cat blinks. "Huh."

"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier huffs and turns back around and hides his face again. "Fuck you, man. You said it would kill him."

"It should've. He's a demon, right?"

"How should I know? He's a fucking bear wizard thing."

"Okay, again, wizards aren't real, magicians are. But you're marrying him, right? How do you not know what species he is?"

"It's not like I'm getting a choice in the matter," Roier spits. He glares into the palms of his hands, shoulders shaking with barely-concealed rage. "Either I marry him or he destroys the kingdom."

There's a pregnant pause as the cat takes this information in. Fair, honestly. Roier hadn't exactly told him that he's a prince. Wasn't important, still isn't important. Doesn't matter if he's a prince if he's being sold off to marry a goddamn bear like he's a common animal.

It's for the good of the kingdom, Foolish had said. He and Vegetta have always liked Cucurucho despite Cucurucho being a legendary fucking creep. It's either you or Leo.

And Roier isn't the one that's meant to take the throne after his parents die.

"Can't you just kill me?" Roier asks. He waves a hand in a random direction. "Just make a tree fall on me or something. It'll be an accident, it's fine, your faerie cops won't know."

"Um, no," the cat says. "That's fucked up."

"Don't you eat people? How the fuck do you eat people without killing them?"

"Who says I killed them before eating them?"

Ah. Sounds about right.

...Kinda cool, to be honest. Imagining a tiny little kitty cat rip a grown dude apart like he's a slice of bread. Almost funny in a way.

Roier jumps as something brushes the hair out of his face.

He jerks his head upright and glares down at the cat, now sitting delicately in front of him.

"I have an idea," the cat tells him. "Follow me."

As they walk back to the hollow tree, the cat asks, "Does Cucurucho still have that freaky mechanical sword?"

Roier thinks. "Maybe? I don't know, he kinda just sits and stares at people. Sometimes he chases the servants around with a sword? Dunno if it's mechanical, though..."

"Well, any sword will work. Hold on."

The cat leaps into the tree and comes out with a new bottle, this one clear.

Roier takes the bottle and swishes it around. The liquid inside looks like oil, okay...

"This is dragon's blood," the cat explains. "It's corrosive to the touch, so be careful. Tell him that it's a special polish for his sword. It should eat his skin to the bone and kill him dead."

"Huh," Roier says, suddenly much more careful with the bottle. He gently slides it into his pocket, makes sure it's secure between a bag of coins and his headband. "Okay. Cool."

"This should work," the cat says. "But I'll try and think of something else for if it doesn't."

"Yeah, well, it'd better work," Roier huffs. "I'm getting married in two days. Then the gods only know what he's gonna do with me."

"Trust me, we'll figure it out."

"Trust you? Aren't you some kind of evil faerie cat?"

The cat looks offended. "Excuse you, I'm barely evil anymore. All I do is read these days. Do you know how many books I have at my house? More than Cucurucho, that's for sure."

"You have a house?"

The cat visibly bristles. "Of course I have a house. What, do you think I'm homeless?"

"You are a cat."

"Not all the time!"

Oh, that's interesting. Roier can almost imagine what the cat looks like in a human form, but the idea escapes him at the last second.

"Whatever," Roier sighs. "Just kill me tomorrow if this doesn't work."

-

Roier doesn't even bother shouting as he storms up to the stump.

He sits, pulls his cloak off, tosses it to his feet, kicks it away. What the fuck!!

He doesn't so much as blink as the cat appears by his side.

"It didn't work?" the cat cries. "Really? That should've worked!"

"Yeah, well, it didn't," Roier huffs. "He wore gloves today. And Cucurucho figured out that I've been sneaking out to see someone at night, so he told my parents that we're going to move to a different castle out in the middle of nowhere. I bet he's going to lock me up, the piece of shit."

The cat's ears lay back on its head. Its eyes narrow, and its lip curls back in a clear snarl.

"I know," Roier agrees. "Fuck this guy for real."

"Fuck him."

"Fuck him!"

Roier smiles just for a second, and he even manages a brief laugh before remembering, right. He's fucking doomed. Right.

Sighing, he slumps to the side until he's tumbling off of the stump and splayed across the ground. He buries his face in the grass and screams.

To his credit, he hardly jumps as a hand firmly settles on his back and rubs it. Small circles, firm hand, big hand, it feels like, wow.

Something- a knee?- presses against Roier's arm firmly. It's grounding in a way. Almost.

"I'm getting married tomorrow," Roier whines. "Just kill me, gatinho. I promise I won't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to kill you, guapito," the cat says. (Roier blushes. Guapito...) Its voice sounds deeper, almost. Louder. More clear. "I can't."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Marry Cucurucho?"

"I won't let that happen."

"Why? Because you want to kill him? Because that hasn't exactly been working so far."

"Because it's super fucked up that he's forcing you to marry him. I don't give a shit about the kingdom, I don't live there. I want him dead, but I'm starting to think that he's unkillable."

The hand moves from Roier's back up to his head. Fingers sift through his hair. Woooow, that feels good. When's the last time Roier got touched this softly? Before Cucurucho arrived?

"I've been thinking," the cat continues. "I've been keeping an eye on Cucurucho for centuries, but he's never tried destroying the kingdom before now. Before you. I think that, if you're gone, then he might leave, too."

Roier cracks an eye open. He doesn't shift his head at all, so he can only just barely make out a hint of cloth. So the cat has clothes when he's a human, that's cool, Roier guesses. Makes him wonder where they came from.

"So... kill me," Roier tells him. "If it'll get him to leave the kingdom alone, kill me."

"I can't do that."

"I'm not next in line for the throne! It's fine! Just push me into the river, I can't swim."

"You can't swim? Really?"

"Well, I can, but I can pretend that I can't!"

"You are so... selfless," the cat says, sounding completely exasperated. "And stupid. No, come with me. I know how we can solve this without killing you."

The hand leaves Roier's head, and then a cold nose is poking at his cheek until he's sitting up and looking the cat right in its little kitty eyes.

"Do you still have cat eyes when you're in another form?" Roier can't help but ask. "That would be really cool."

The cat chuckles. "Maybe. Come on. I have one last thing we can try."

They go to the hollow tree, and Roier waits as the cat scrambles into the tree and surfaces with a necklace clutched in its teeth.

Roier takes the necklace and inspects it. It's a solid gold chain with a little charm that looks like a cat's head. Cute.

"What, is this evil faerie gold that will melt Cucurucho's skin off?" Roier asks.

"No, it's for you," the cat replies. "Wear it tomorrow. When the wedding reaches the climax, take the necklace off and break it."

Roier points at the cat accusingly. "You are going to kill me!"

The cat rolls its eyes. "I'm not. Just... trust me."

Trust the man-eating faerie cat, sure. Right.

Roier sighs, but he puts the necklace on, anyway. It's surprisingly warm around his neck.

The cat almost seems to smile. "You look lovely."

"This thing is going to explode and blow my head off."

"No, you'll see."

And, well. What choice does Roier have but to wait and see?

-

The final wedding preparations go by in an uncomfortable blur.

Leo comes in to hug Roier goodbye. She then punches Roier in the stomach and tells him to write to her once he's at his new house.

Jaiden comes in to help Roier finish getting ready. She's happy about the marriage because she really thinks that Cucurucho is a good person, and Roier can't help but be happy that she's happy.

Foolish comes in to walk Roierto the church. He and Vegetta each take one of Roier's arms, and they walk.

And then Cucurucho is waiting at the church in front of the altar in an all-white suit. His fur is meticulously brushed, his claws are polished, his smile is painted on, he's absolutely grotesque.

Roier hates him.

"Good morning," Cucurucho says as Roier settles in front of the altar.

"It's sunset, you fucking idiot," Roier snaps. He can say what he wants now, right? He's going to die, anyway. The cat is going to kill him.

Cucurucho laughs, and then the ceremony starts.

Roier tunes out most of the goings-on if only to keep himself from breaking down and breaking the necklace before it's time. The cat said to wait until the climax, so Roier's going to wait for the goddamn climax.

He comes back to himself as the cleric asks if anybody in the audience has any objections to the marriage.

This sounds like a fucking climax if Roier's ever heard one.

"Yes," he says. "I object!"

He tears the necklace from around his neck and throws it to the floor. Before anybody can stop him, he slams his heel into the charm.

The entire church erupts into screams as a blinding white light fills it. Magic tears at Roier's skin, biting and pulling. He squeezes his eyes shut, anticipating the end of it all.

But:

"I also object," the cat says.

Two large hands settle on Roier's upper arms, and he's pulled back and against a firm chest.

Roier tilts his head back- not too far, because the cat's human form is shorter than he is, funnily enough- and his eyes widen as he takes in the most beautiful man in the world. Long hair the same color as the cat's coat, scarred face, feathery earrings, cat eyes.

"No," Curucucho snaps. "No!"

"Yes!" the cat- well, not the cat, Roier supposes- shouts. "The prince is mine! He swore himself to me the moment he accepted that necklace, and so he will go back with me to the Faewild and become my husband. You know the rules, bear."

Leo, in the audience, cheers. So does Foolish, who always appreciates a good show.

"Gatinho," Roier hisses.

The faerie shrugs his concerns off. Roier is annoyed about this for exactly three seconds before he gets caught up in the faerie's eyes.

Could be a worse arranged marriage, that's for sure...

A long moment passes, but Cucurucho eventually says a begrudging, "Yes."

"So," the faerie continues, "you will not destroy the kingdom for this. If the prince has already been promised to somebody else, then he never rejected you."

"Yes," Cucurucho sighs.

"You're hot when you're arguing," Roier whispers.

The faerie's cheeks redden, as do the tips of his pointed ears. Cute!

Yeah, no, this arranged marriage will be way better than the last one.

"So!" The faerie turns Roier around so that they're looking at each other properly for the first time eye-to-eye. "You will be coming with me."

"Yeah, okay," Roier agrees. Hell yeah. "Take me, gatinho."

"'Take me'?" Foolish gasps. "Ooooo, this is getting spicy!"

"All you need to do is say my name," the faerie says.

He leans in close and whispers right into Roier's ear, and Roier returns the favor... with a couple of flirtatious remarks thrown in for good measure. Sue him, he's about to get married to a sexy faerie. He's going to make the most of the situation.

"Cellbit," Roier murmurs, and something tickles at his skin. Something... purple. It feels purple. Soft and purple.

"Roier," the faerie replies. He looks positively flustered, aww. He's going to be so fun to tease once they're out of the church.

As the Faewild's magic starts to pick up, Roier can't help but give the faerie a grateful kiss.

The faerie blinks away from the kiss after a moment of some very eager lip-chasing. His face is completely red, and his eyes are wide and unblinking even as the magic around them whips like the wind.

"There's more where that comes from," Roier teases. He puts his arms around the faerie and smiles. "You're marrying me, get used to it. That's just part of the deal."

Because faeries are all about deals, right? Well, Roier's the best deal this guys is ever gonna get.

The faerie swallows, an eager grin teasing at his face.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Alright."

He pulls Roier's head down for another kiss just as the Faewild swallows them whole.

-

(Legends say that there are monsters living in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla. Once monster is a man-spider with glowing red eyes and fangs the length of one's sword. The other is a furry snarling beast of a thing with magic worthy of the most powerful of witches.

Ah, but don't worry, my child, for these monsters don't hunt humans.

No, they hunt bears, and isn't that a good thing for us?)

[kinascum]

BITS. - M.STURNIOLO (harry potter AU)

summary: As night descended upon the Hogwarts grounds, the students retreated to their dormitories. However, as a prefect, you noticed a student missing from the dungeons.

Warnings: listen english is not my first language im sorry, angst, sad matt, regulus black coded matt, prefect!reader, slytherin!matt.

A/N: Hey! this is pt1 of my 1K CELEBRATION! find the celebration masterlist here (coming soon)! enjoy!!

As darkness fell, enveloping the Hogwarts castle, all of the students retired to their dormitories, preparing for a restful night's sleep. However, as a diligent prefect of Slytherin House, you couldn't help but notice that Matt Sturniolo was conspicuously absent from the Slytherin Common Room. Despite the stringent rules prohibiting students from wandering the halls at night, your concern for Matt propelled you to search for him.

Quietly making your way through the dimly lit corridors, you cautiously avoid the watchful gaze of the janitor and the ever-wandering eyes of the teachers. After what seems like an eternity, you catch sight of a mysterious figure in the main courtyard. And there he is, standing alone amidst the cold night, his face powdered with a delicate layer of snow. His demeanor exudes an aura of hostility and distance, not at all striking as this was his usual self. As you cautiously approach him, attempting to engage in conversation, Matt remains silent, his thoughts veiled in the mystique of the silent winter night.

You try several times to bring him out of his melancholic trance, but it seems like no matter how hard you try, Matt won't speak. Frustrated by his seemingly stubborn silence, you approach him and grab his shoulder, turning him back. You gasp, not having expected the tears running through his eyes.

"Matt...?" you question, concern bubbling in your own eyes as Matt' sobs intensify.

"Get away from me!" he yells tearfully, his voice quivering with fear and vulnerability. You instinctively reach out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he recoils, his eyes filled with hostility as if they were shooting needles into your skin.

Matt had never been the type to open up, yet you can't bear to see him suffer alone. Not when you know that his loneliness is eating away at him, causing him to doubt himself and question his sanity. How could someone as thoughtful and kindhearted (even if he didn't show it much) as Matt go through such anguish? It doesn't make sense.

In one swift motion, you pull the boy into a tight embrace, offering him the only comfort that you can give him in this time of need. He fights against your warmth. Sighs of denial fly out onto your shoulder as he cries. He rejects the embrace as he is used to doing, but you know he needs this more than his pride.

Eventually, he starts desperately clutching your clothes, struggling to stifle his cries, burying his head in your chest. You gently caress his back, trying to offer some semblance of comfort, yet his shaking is unbearable. All too soon, he pushes you away, looking into your eyes with tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Why are you doing this!?" His uncontrollable sobs cause him to struggle for breath, and as he exhales, large white clouds of condensation form over his face.

Your heart breaks at the anguish radiating from him, as well as the frustration seeping out of every pore of his body. It feels like an entire ocean lies between you two, and the mere sight of it makes you feel so helpless. And then it hits you.

The first thought that comes to mind as you stare into Matt's wide blue eyes: You have to be there for him. If not for yourself, then for the sake of everyone who loves and cares about him. You want to ease the pain that his despair brings him, whether he wants it or not. Matt Sturniolo deserves to be happy, even if he's unable to accept it at the moment.

"I'm doing this because I care," you say between gasps for air, your heart pounding as you desperately search for the right words to convey your understanding.

Even though you barely know this boy, you can sense the weight he carries and how he longs for moments of peace and support. You take tentative steps toward him. You stop in front of him, your heart still pounding, feeling like you had ripped it out just to hand it to him.

As you stand there in the courtyard facing Matt, the cold night air seems to envelope you, creating an almost tangible barrier between your emotions. But the urgency to reach out to him and provide some comfort is overwhelming. He looks at you with a mix of surprise and pain in his eyes, as if he can't fathom why anyone would care about his turmoil.

"I want to be there for you," you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your own emotions threatening to spill over. "You don't have to go through this alone." Matt gazes at you, his expression a tumultuous blend of vulnerability and defiance.

It's evident that he's battling his inner turmoil, struggling with the idea of letting someone in. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence seems to echo the heaviness of the situation, mirroring the weight of Matt's pain. At that moment, you feel a profound determination to break through the walls he had built around himself, to let him know that he isn't alone in this.

"I don't know if I can," Matt finally murmurs, his voice laden with uncertainty. He takes a hesitant breath, his gaze flickering between you and the ground. You wait, giving him the space and time he needs to process his emotions.

Before you can say anything, you hear footsteps approaching. Professor McGonagall's dark eyes pierce through the darkness. "What is the meaning of this?" she demands, her voice commanding and tinged with disapproval.

Matt steps back, his moment of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had come. "Nothing, Professor. I was just... I was just leaving," he stammers, avoiding your gaze as he brushes past you and heads back toward the Slytherin Common Room.

But before he could, McGonagall stops him dead in his tracks, "No, you werent, actually." She said, the boy stood confused before she continued speaking. "It is far past curfew, children, follow me."

Both you and Matt followed her out of the school, grumbling under your breaths. McGonagall turned and cast a stern look at you both, her eyes daring them to talk back. You quickly obeyed, knowing that McGonagall would not tolerate any disobedience.

Upon arrival at Hagrid's hut, he's already waiting outside, Fang by his side "Well, kids, you'll help me here tonight then," Hagrid said, his heavy accent dripping on his voice as he handed Regulus a heavy light, and an axe to you.

"What is this?" you ask, confused as to why he would hand a heavy axe to a child. "Oh. Right..." he turns around to face you both, "We are cutting down some trees these nasty little creatures have been eating at." The rest of his sentence was drowned out by your thoughts as you walked with him.

The weight of his pain lingers in the cold night air, and you can't help but wonder if you'll ever be able to break through to him. With a heavy heart, you make your way into the forbidden forest, knowing that despite your best intentions, some battles are fought alone.

A/N²: not my best work, but let me know if yall want a pt2, kisses!

[caffedrine]

Chevalier Michel - I fell in love with you that day – Choose your true love - Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

When Emma wakes up, she is in a pitch-black forest, which is weird since the last thing she remembers is waiting for Chevalier in his library.

There’s a unique smell to the forest, iron and something burning. As far as dreams go, this one is very vivid, and Emma trembles as the smell triggers memories of the last time she participated in a war. Thankfully, she cant hear any sounds of fighting around her, so she’s safe for now.

Her heart pounding, Emma forces her legs to carry her forward, until she enters a clearing with a large lake reflecting the moonlight. And on the edge of the lake, wearing a dark cloak is a familiar figure.

Emma calls out to Chevalier as she hurries towards him, the smell of blood and battle growing stronger as she nears him. She can see that Chevalier’s clothes are covered in something red, and he kneels down to scoop up water to wash himself.

Drawing close to him, Emma asks what happened and reaches out to touch him.

Chevalier recoils from her, unsheathing his sword and resting the tip just at her throat. He demands to know who she is. Very carefully, Emma tells him her name.

(Actually, this is just how he says 'hello')

Not helpful. Chevalier does not recognize the name nor the person.

Is this really Chevalier in front of her? His eyes are so cold that Emma can feel her blood freeze, and the traces of warmth she is used to is gone. She remembers back when she first met Chevalier, the ruthless bestial gaze, but this might be even worse. She can feel the hostility radiate from him, and it’s intense enough that she can’t breathe.

Chevalier tells her to run away, unless she wants to be killed. The tip of his sword is just touching the skin at her neck. The murderous intent half-convinces Emma that if she moves at all, he will chop of her head.

Emma mentally calms herself down, taking one deep breath after another. She needs to figure out what is going on.

Feeling better, Emma looks into Chevalier’s murderous gaze and asks him what is going on. She explains that she was reading back at the castle and suddenly she was here. It looks like he’s covered in blood, and it looks like a war is going on, so she’s understandably confused.

Chevalier doesn’t answer her.

But the hositilty has decreased, so he lowers his sword.

Chevalier sheathes his sword, turns, and walks away. Unlike usual, there is no ‘come with me’ look, but Emma decides to follow him. She doesn’t want to be alone in this place, even if it means being with a Chevalier who does not know her.

Upon returning to the forest, two people intercept Chevalier. His younger brother, Clavis, and the traitor knight, Sir Flandres. It’s the later that puts things into place for Emma, Flandres was a knight of the foreign policy faction 10 years ago

Both Clavis and Flandres were too agitated to even notice her and focused on Chevalier. Flandres begs Chevalier to reconsider, his family is among the 1,000 hostages captured by Obsidian. He asks if Chevalier really intends to abandon all those he has sworn to protect? If they mobilize the knights, then maybe they can save them.

Chevalier refuses to change his decision, even though Clavis argues that they could still win. Chevalier reminds them that Obsidian has firearms, and if they walk into the obvious trap, the 1,000 citizens will die along with the knights. Flandres asks if they could do a more covert operation to save them, but Chevalier refuses to waste the military power on this.

Clavis reminds him that he is consigning 1,000 people to death. Chevalier reminds Clavis that they are at war, people are going to die, but if they don’t win, then the entire country will be wiped off the map. He is getting tired of saying the exact same thing over and over again. Chevalier pushes past the two, as they stare at his speechless.

Somehow Emma was transported to 10 years in the past, when Rhodolite was invaded by Obsidian and all 7 princes went to the battlefield.

She is at the day when Chevalier let 1,000 hostages die, the Blood-Stained Rose Day.

Emma has no explanation of why she is here and how she went back in time, but this is too real to be just a dream.

She sits near Chevalier in the command tent as soldiers bring in reports. And each report is dire – with them losing land and Chevalier making decisions to abandon one battle and send more troops to another.

One of the scouts reports the Supreme Commander of the Obsidian Army was briefly spotted, and Chevalier asks if they have spotted Ever-Victorious Marshal. Nope, Gilbert is suspiciously absent. Chevalier muses that if they manage to kill the emperor, the fighting will be over. A soldier points out that the Supreme Commander, the Emperor of Obsidian, is the best fighter on the continent, no one can kill him.

Chevalier tells them to send for him the moment they pinpoint the Emperor’s position, he will fight him himself. He warns them not to engage the Emperor.

As the soldier leaves to spread Chevalier’s orders regarding the Emperor, another scout comes with more reports.

So far, with everyone focused on Chevalier, no one has noticed her. Or maybe they have, they just have other things to worry about. Instead, Emma is left by herself to listen to Chevalier give out order after order, and she is quickly overwhelmed by the cruelty of the war. As the night breaks into day, Emma feels a little safer, but it is impossible to relax.

Lucian, a face Emma can recognize, comes forward with an urgent report. Chevalier doesn’t even need to hear it to know, his stupid brother went and did it, right? Lucian asks if Chevalier was expecting it, and Chevalier admits that he wishes he wasn’t.

The other side now has Clavis and is demanding hostage negotiations. How would Chevalier like to handle this?

Chevalier tells Lucian to ignore the demand, if his stupid brother got himself into this situation, he can get himself out. Chevalier has made it clear that he does not intend to negotiate.

Even Emma is chilled by his disregard, and she has the advantage of knowing exactly how it will turn out.

One of the nearby soldiers objects and asks if Chevalier is sure. Chevalier reminds him that Clavis entered the enemy camp on his own, and he asks how many people should he sacrifice to rescue Clavis? The soldier backs down, and Chevalier tells the soldier not to think about unnecessary things and focus on their roles.

Emma muses that even though Clavis is his brother, Chevalier has no doubt in his decision to abandon him. She understands that if Chevalier makes the wrong choice, Rhodolite will be overrun by Obsidian troops and lose the war. He accepts the responsibility of making the ultimate judgments on the battlefield, right or wrong.

As Emma thinks about what Chevalier and the others are going through, Lucien abruptly looks at Emma and asks who she is.

Chevalier shrugs, he has no idea either. She just started following him and didn’t run away.

Eventually, the reports stop, and Chevalier calls for Lucien. He’s going to go for a walk. Lucien asks if he should come with him, but Chevalier tells him not to. Lucien then tells Chevalier to be careful.

Emma decides to join Chevalier, she doesn’t want to stay behind without him.

Chevalier makes a beeline into the forest, and judging from the way he’s moving, he seems to have a destination in mind. This isn’t the casual break she was expecting. As she frantically follows him, Chevalier abruptly stops. He warns her that if she continues to follow him, he won’t guarantee she’ll live. Emma assures him that she’s not worried, and unless he really can’t have her with him, she would still like to accompany him. She wants to know what happened during the Blood-Stained Rose Day. Chevalier is visibly confused, and Emma realizes that this war doesn’t even have a name yet. Chevalier calls her strange, snorts, and continues forward.

Under the cover of darkness, Chevalier hides in the shadows. There are multiple tents pitched nearby, all bearing the Obsidian Crest.

Emma is shocked at how easily Chevalier is approaching enemy territory, but he seems to be handling the situation. Looking at the tents, Emma is surprised at how few soldiers she can see.

Just as Emma begins to second guess herself, Chevalier unsheathes his sword and boldly walks into the enemy camp. The soldiers all shout in alarm and recognize Chevalier as the enemy commander. The soldiers at the front aim their firearms at Chevalier, but he is too fast and swings his sword before they can fire. For the first time in a while, Emma sees people die in front of her. Only a few soldiers have firearms, and the rest attack with melee weapons, but are struck down in turn.

Emma is shaking from the sight, but with no signs of reinforcements coming, she steels her legs and watches Chevalier. Finished with the soldiers, Chevalier enters the largest tent in the camp, only to quickly emerge, dragging a man with him by the hair.

The man is wearing a commander’s uniform, and he is shouting at Chevalier to release him and threatening him. Chevalier ignores him, throws him to the ground, and stabs the man through the shoulder with his sword. The man threatens that if Chevalier won’t stop, he won’t rescind the order to burn alive all those prisoners of war. Chevalier stabs him through his other shoulder, pointing out that the execution is already happening right this moment. He notes that since this commander and his subordinates are here, that means they didn’t have the stomach to see their execution orders carried through.

Thanks to that cowardice, it made it easier for Chevalier to find and dispose of them.

Chevalier stabs the commander in the shoulder again, and then in the legs, and the commander screams. This is the first time that Emma ever saw Chevalier purposefully torture someone. He’s angry, very angry.

Chevalier explains that he has just sacrificed 1,000 people to kill him, one of the army commanders. But what is the point in just killing him?

Chevalier throws the commander into a nearby tent, grabs a torch, and sets the tent on fire. The commander starts screaming, and Emma realizes that some of the wounds Chevalier inflicted on him made him unable to use his legs.

Emma realizes that Chevalier always knew what would happen when he allowed those hostages to die, and used their sacrifice to kill one of the enemy generals. With the gift of hindsight, Emma knows that this was instrumental to him saving Rhodolite.

Chevalier, framed by the blazing tent fire, looked calm, but Emma knew that his insides were boiling with rage. She can feel the palpable anger at the loss of all those people and knows that this decision will nearly bring about a civil war in the future. Everyone said Chevalier was a merciless beast that left those people to die, but the truth is that Chevalier didn’t want them to die in the first place. He had just decided to shoulder the burden of all those deaths in exchange for a future for Rhodolite.

Eventually the sound of the commander’s screams stops, and Chevalier sheathes his sword, checking the flames. Satisfied, he turns to leave, passing by Emma who is still hiding in the shadows. She struggles to chase after him.

Chevalier abruptly stops and asks how long she intends to follow him. Emma assures him that she won’t bother him, and to please allow her to stay near.

For the first time, Chevalier turns to face her. He is caked with dirt, sweat, and blood, but somehow remains noble and pure. He notes that there are few women who can see all of this and remain normal. But Emma has barely started crying. She’s not a soldier, but she seems used to the battlefield.

No, that’s not right.

Emma is used to Chevalier.

Who is she?

Chevalier roughly grabs her and her wedding ring shines faintly in the moonlight. Chevalier has figured out that Emma is in love with him, but why?

With Chevalier looking down at her, stinking of blood instead of roses, Emma looks into his eyes and asks how he knew.

Chevalier can tell from her courage, as well as her attitude. Besides, she seems to already know the outcome of the war. This is insane and impossible, but she doesn’t seem from this time.

Even ten years ago, Chevalier was able to deduct accurate conclusions from a small amount of information. Leaving him only with the question of why she loves him.

Emma looks into the eyes of this blood-soaked beast, and though her hand is trembling, she refuses to look away. She wouldn’t be the person she is if she could look away from Chevalier like this.

She admits that there are many reasons why she loves him, but the most important is that he is capable of more love than anyone else.

Chevalier asks if she’s serious.

Emma tells him that she knows he will shoulder the burden of those 1,000 people lost, as well as everyone else who sacrificed themselves in this war. No matter who hate him, he will do what it takes to save as many people as possible. She loves his strong will and sense of responsibility, and the fact that he is human.

Like anyone else, Chevalier feels sadness and anger, proving that he’s not some beast but a human. No matter what, Emma wants to stand next to and support him.

The wind blows, stinking of ash and blood. Emma still feels numb from the scene she’s just seen, but she pushes forward. Chevalier isn’t cruel and heartless, it is this war that makes him seem so. She wants to do everything possible to stop another tragedy like this from repeating.

Emma is still inexperienced and knows too little things, but it is important that she was able to see the Blood-Stained Rose Day up close like this.

She tells Chevalier that she is his fiancé, and she will never let him turn himself into a beast.

After a long moment of silence, Chevalier releases her hand. He knows nothing about her, but if she thinks all that is true, he is interested to see how far she goes.

Chevalier snorts turns, and walks away.

Emma thinks that she’s been chasing his back for a long time now. Now, in the future, she will always chase after him.

When Emma wakes up in the present, the dream lingers and she tells Chevalier about it. He pauses his work, considering it. It is a very strange dream.

Chevalier never told anyone about attacking the commander, and there are no records about it that anyone could have read. He also has no memory of anyone following him to the enemy camp.

Chevalier muses that if it was more than a dream, or just a dream, either way it doesn’t sound pleasant for her. Emma agrees, but she thinks it worthwhile to have occurred.

Awkwardly, Chevalier reaches out and caresses her cheek. Emma thinks he looks a little paler than usual. She feels the warmth of his hand, the warmth of a human. This same hand has been stained with blood so often that Chevalier fears he might be a beast. Even she, who knows him the best, cannot always suppress her fear.

Even though his hand is so gentle with her.

Ten years ago, after their commander was slain, the Obsidian troops lost their morale and withdrew from the villages they had occupied, and the war had been won by Rhodolite. The Emperor had never before been defeated in battle, and the withdraw was unexpectedly thorough.

Rhodolite had lost a lot to this war, but the fact that a small country was able to drive off Obsidian was significant on the global scale. Until that battle, Rhodolite was considered a weak small country, ignored on the global political scale. But, thanks to that victory, Rhodolite is heralded as a beacon of hope to all countries threatened by Obsidian.

Thanks to the sacrifice of all those who died on the battlefield.

Emma agrees that they are where they are today only because of everyone working so hard to protect the country. But the war shouldn’t have happened to begin with. No matter what they say about Rhodolite becoming prominent in victory, Emma cannot bring herself to glorify war.

Chevalier agrees with her sentiment.

Emma doesn’t want to lament her helplessness to stop anything, and she wants to work with Chevalier to build a world where no one needs to become a beast to win a war. She doesn’t want blood to get on Chevalier’s hands ever again.

Chevalier is interested to see how far she will go.

Emma remarks that dream-Chevalier said the same thing to her in the end. Chevalier muses that he must not have changed from who he was back then.

Chevalier pulls Emma’s hand close to him and kisses her fingertips, as if he was swearing a sacred oath. He has no intention of staining her hands with blood either.

Chevalier is someone who will wage a war if he thinks it is necessary. Currently, he’s thinking positively and continues to be a human. As long as the love between them exists, Emma is sure Chevalier will retain his humanity.

She looks at him, at his smile, and thinks about how warm it is.

[princessbrunette]

kinktober : oct 9th

leon kennedy x mirror sex

when dating leon kennedy, watching him simply move was a privilege.

from years of gaining strength, leon’s body had sculpted itself into something you’d only see delicately painted in museums or sculpted into ancient statues standing proud and naked outside castles. you could watch him all day, from the way he’d casually roll his sore shoulders after a particularly tense workout — his back muscles dancing beneath the tight fabric of his compression tshirt as he’d stand in the kitchen making a snack, to the way his biceps would tense and relax — carrying in all of your shopping bags to the house in one trip, because leon was not a two trip kind of man.

this of course, extends to sex. the intimacy often times started because of the staring problem you’d gained from dating him, sauntering over when you’d zone out watching him unpack groceries with an adorable dazed expression on your face, gently cupping beneath your chin and tilting his head with that warm smirk of his. “y’know, it’s rude to stare.” he’d chide before leaning in to all but shove his tongue down your throat (definitely not complaining.)

perhaps that’s why you’d had him install that giant mirror facing your bed, watching him fit it to the wall and do all that handyman shit you thought was so sexy. “any reason you want it right here?” he casually slid into conversation midway through putting it up, the slightest of inflections in his tone suggesting he knew exactly why.

“no reason.”

it doesn’t take long to become painfully clear why, when he’s got you facing it in doggy style, staring straight through the mirror at the way his godly form rolls his hips into you, making his abs ripple and the meat of your ass recoil with each thud from his pelvis. you also get to stare at the way his skin is slightly glowing from sweat, and the look of concentration on his face as he tucks his tshirt beneath his chin, watching down at the way he fucks into you.

“so this was your plan all along huh? wanted to watch me ruin you?” through his breathlessness leon manages to smirk at you, strong hand gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them obscenely as he briefly slows his thrusts. at being called out, you feel your face heat and you retreat, burying your cheek into the bed to avoid his amused yet accusatory gaze.

as quickly as you do this, you’re being swept upwards.

“no, you wanted to watch — so watch.”

it’s not forceful or unkind, just so unapologetically leon. he’s scooped you so that you’re upright, back arched and his mouth by your ear. he wraps a strong bicep across your neck in almost a headlock, which makes you clench around him all the same. you looked so weak and pathetic like this, his hips continuing to smack against you as he fucks you just like that, the both of you on your knees, upright facing the mirror. your less forceful hands grip at his strong arm, holding on for dear life as he continues to take you infront of the mirror.

you relax, letting him do whatever he wants and finally let yourself lock eyes with him through the reflection again. his lips skim your cheekbone as he speaks, low and quietly. “atta girl. seem like you’re enjoying the show.”