#I can’t wait to see what she’s going to wear for the coronation

[aimeedaisies]

Wishing Lady Sarah Chatto a very happy 59th birthday 🥳💓🥰

Born 1st May 1964

[ofduskanddreams]

This Lovely Enigma

For @catboyjamesbond. The prompt: Royalty AU Azris, Eris is king and needs a consort. Azriel is the one who catches his eye.

Azris ✦ Rated M ✦ 2.5k words (yeah ik) ✦ on AO3

"The Ruler shall take a consort within a year of their coronation lest they forfeit the title to the Heir. The Crown is too heavy a burden to bear alone." 

Eris knows that particular stipulation so well that he sees it in his dreams and behind his eyelids whenever he blinks. 

His crown hits the ornately carved walnut throne with a dull thud as Eris looks to the paned glass dome of the ceiling above the dais in the empty throne room and groans. 

A wry laugh echoes from his left, “Ah, let me guess: woe is me, I am but a king facing the truly arduous task of choosing a partner from a selection of the most competent and beautiful of my subjects.”

Callan has been Eris’s most loyal guard for nearly a decade. Eris would never allow such flippant sarcasm in public or from any other member of his staff, but Callan is the closest thing he has to a friend, not counting Eris’s brothers.

“I just don’t understand why my ancestors felt that such a useless clause would be one of the few immovable laws. Why do I need a consort in order to keep the title that is rightfully mine? I’ve been perfectly fine on my own so far,” Eris allows a granule of petulance to lace his words.

Cal just smiles and softly shakes his head. It’s unsettling to witness because that gesture is identical to one his mother often makes. 

“There’s nothing that can be done to change it, you know that. It’s been six months since your father’s passing—stars smile gently on his soul even though he was a right bastard—and now that the mourning period is coming to a close you know you can’t afford to waste another minute. This way you are giving yourself a little time to get to know them at least.”

“If I meet them today,” Eris points out, tracing the vines carved into the throne’s arm with a ringed finger. 

Knowing it’s better to voice his feelings than quash them, Eris sighs and begrudgingly continues the thought, “What if I can’t stand any of the people I meet today? Aren’t they all the children of the gentry? I don’t care about liking them, but I need to be able to tolerate them. You know how I hate sycophants, and that’s all they’re going to be—hoping that they can woo their way into the royal family and a better title.”

“Defeatism does not suit you, dear.” Serafina Vanserra, the Queen Mother, approaches the throne at an elegant glide.

Eris rises and descends the three steps of the dais. “And black did not suit you, Mother. It’s wonderful to see you in color again.” 

She’s donned a wine-red gown for the occasion, the rich color making her fair skin appear lit from within. The black they’d been wearing always made her look sickly pale. This, Eris thinks, is a very welcome change. 

Her lightly painted lips tug up in a smirk. “Flattery, while always welcome, will not divert my attention, Eris. Try having a little more faith in humanity. Giving up before the race has begun is the quickest way to ensure defeat.”

“I know,” Eris agrees. She’s right, of course, she is. He knows that he frequently walks the line between realism and pessimism and, while such an attitude guarantees that he is always prepared for worst-case scenarios and puts secondary measures in place for every plan, it is not an ideal outlook for the day ahead of him.

His mother raises a brow, waiting. 

“I promise to try,” Eris tells her. “I wouldn’t have bothered setting up this whole affair if I did not intend to make an attempt. It would have been far more efficient to simply select a name from a list but, believe it or not, my heart is not made of stone.”

“I know that, darling.” Her hand is soft and warm, the touch to his cheek a brief allowance of the affection that they’d been denied for so many years. “But it’s my hope that you will permit others to learn this as well.”

The ‘now that he’s gone’ hangs unspoken in the air between them.

“I hope so too,” Eris replies. It’s the best he can do while remaining honest. 

Hope, an ember banked for years upon years has, against every odd, retained its glow. Eris might even go as far as to say that, since his father’s death, the ember has sparked a flame.

 ✦ ✦ ✦

Azriel tries his best to hold still while his mother fusses with his jacket collar, but he’s restless.

“There,” Zahra smiles proudly as she steps to the side so he can view his reflection in the long mirror.

He scarcely recognizes the man staring back at him. His typically unruly hair is swept back off his forehead and tamed by something that smells faintly sweet. The clothes he’s wearing are finer than anything he’s owned before. The jacket is sapphire blue, laced up the back in gold—the same gold laces that begin at his wrists and end at his forearms. 

He’d thought the process of donning the garment ridiculously complicated, but Azriel can’t help thinking that the effect might be worth the effort. He looks… elegant? Everything is tighter than he’s used to. The jacket clings to the curve of his waist, and the breadth of his shoulders. The trousers are impossibly soft and fit like a second skin. His boots are supple black leather and buffed to a shine. 

It’s not just the clothes though. What really makes his reflection so foreign is the tint on his lips and cheeks, making it appear like he’s slightly flushed; it’s the hint of kohl smudged into his lashes and bringing a new brightness to his eyes. 

“My beautiful boy, my Azriel. Look at you,” his mother murmurs and the rosiness of his cheeks darkens at the sheer pride in her voice. 

“Thank you,” for this, for everything. The emotional rasp of his words embarrasses him.

It’s a public secret that Azriel is Lord Blackwell’s bastard despite his father’s begrudging formal claim. He’s certain that, had the decision been left to his father alone, he would have turned them out on the street. It had only been his paternal grandmother, to whom his mother was and is chief caregiver, threatening to change her will and cut him off that made the lord claim Azriel as his own. 

Sometimes, less often now than when he was young, Azriel wonders if life may have been better had they been forced to fend for themselves. It’s a notion he quickly shakes off. Who’s to say what could have happened? It was pointless to dwell upon.

“I’ve raised you for this, there’s no need to be anxious.” She takes his fidgeting hands in her own, thumbs tracing arcs over the pale web of scars. 

“I know,” Azriel assures her, dropping her hands with a squeeze to pull on his gloves. Knowing that he is thoroughly prepared has no effect on how he feels though. 

Only a fool wouldn’t be nervous before being presented as a potential consort to the king.

Azriel has caught glimpses of the then-prince now-king over the years, but there’s one memory that stands above all the rest: 

He was five and hiding from his brothers. Azriel had wandered into the stable as he often did and climbed the rickety ladder into the hayloft. 

Unlike all those previous afternoons spent up there, however, the hayloft was already occupied. A red-haired boy was sitting on his heels on the far side, his hand outstretched to something in the hay.

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked as he approached. 

The boy startled, his honey-colored eyes narrowing at Azriel. “Who are you?”

“My name is Azriel. Who are you?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

The boy had laughed then and beckoned him over to come see. 

One of the barn cats had given birth to a litter of kittens. Azriel forgot all about his brothers as they passed the afternoon watching the kittens stumble around each other as their mother took turns licking them down.

It was only after the boy left that Azriel realized he’d never been told his name. 

The next time he saw the boy, a few months later, he was crossing the west courtyard with his mother. 

“Bow!” She hissed at him, dropping into a graceful curtsey as the boy and two guards walked past them. Azriel bent at the waist, waiting for his mother to rise before straightening his spine.

“Who was that, Mother?”

She looked at him, astonished. “That was Prince Eris. One day he will be our king.”

“Oh.”

It’s childish but, as Azriel makes his way down to the carriage his grandmother has arranged to take him to the palace, he can’t help wondering if Eris will remember him. If, maybe, he will look at Azriel and be reminded of golden dust motes and the sweet smell of hay just as Azriel is whenever he sees the king. 

He chides himself for being foolish as the carriage trundles through the city streets. He cannot afford to let something as asinine as sentiment distract him. This is his only opportunity to secure a better life for his mother, and he refuses to jeopardize it because of one afternoon a lifetime ago, even if that afternoon is one of the best he’s ever had.

✦ ✦ ✦

Eris smiles politely as the next prospect is introduced. The firstborn of Lord Arminta has an education overseen by a herd of tutors and an admittedly impressive number of instruments they play proficiently. They’re beautiful in the way a painting is beautiful—attention grabbing and pleasing to the eye—but Eris carries out a brief conversation with them as he has with everyone else who has been escorted through the throne room doors and feels nothing. 

As they go to join the other dozen prospects already milling about the refreshment tables, Eris leans over to ask his mother, “How many more are there?”

“You’re about halfway through.”

Eris swallows his groan, kings aren’t allowed. Callan’s posted by the doors and Eris looks at him with a subtle nod, signifying that he should send the next one in.

A hush falls over the room as the doors swing open to reveal what may just be the most striking person Eris has ever seen. Familiarity nags at him but he can’t recall why.

“Azriel Blackwell, he is the son of Lord Blackwell,” his mother supplies as she’s done for all the others. 

Azriel.

Azriel.

Somehow he knows that name, but he’s too distracted by the sight of his present to wonder about the past. Sharp hazel eyes watch him from a face that would not have been out of place on one of the statues in the sculpture gallery. This is a man who has been crafted by a mastered and magnanimous hand. His clothes are well-tailored, hinting at the power of lean muscles and showcasing elegantly proportioned limbs. 

The way he moves, grace belying strength, reminds Eris of a mountain lion, and yet those lovely eyes betray him. He’s not as confident as he is pretending to be, but Eris can hardly fault him for that. 

Before the thought is fully formed, Eris stands as Azriel stops before the dais. He’s remained seated for the others but something is urging him to go to him so he does. 

Azriel’s eyes widen before they drop to the floor, and he quickly folds into a bow. 

Eris doesn’t stop until he’s only an arm’s length away. “Rise,” he bids. His voice is softer than intended.

Azriel does, but his eyes remain fixed on Eris’s boots. Eris is only an inch or two taller than him which is a nice change. 

“Have we met before?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Once, when we were children.” Azriel’s voice is rich and smooth, and Eris grins a little because he finds it pleasing. 

“Azriel,” Eris ponders aloud. It’s a beautiful name, unusual too. So why can’t he… “Kittens in the hayloft.”

Finally, Azriel looks up at him and there’s a questioning intensity in his gaze that sends a thrill up Eris’s spine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Eris’s smile widens, and he dares to hope it’s that expression which causes a soft grin to spread on Azriel’s face. 

“By the stars,” Eris muses, scarcely resisting the urge to trace the curve of Azriel’s lower lip with his thumb, to press and see if that mouth would open to him.

“Is something wrong, Your Majesty?” Azriel inquires carefully.

“Far from it.” It’s just that his memory of a small scrawny boy with dirt on his forehead and a scraped knee poking through a hole in his trousers is difficult to reconcile with the person who stands before him now. “You’re rather exquisite, you know.”

This time, Eris allows himself an indulgence. He brushes a dark curl off Azriel’s forehead where it had fallen out of place with his bow.

Whether Azriel’s beautiful blush is the result of the compliment or Eris’s touch, Eris doesn’t care—either is a delightful prospect. 

“Your Majesty is too kind,” Azriel says, dipping his head as if it will conceal the color on his golden brown cheeks. 

“I assure you I am no such thing,” Eris huffs a laugh. “But if you fear my words are contrived, allow me to press upon you the sincerity of my confession over tea?”

“Tea, Your Majesty?” Azriel looks confused and Eris thinks it’s rather adorable.

“Yes.” Eris glances over his shoulder, giving his mother a pointed look which is met with a pleased grin. “I’m very curious to learn more about you, Azriel. If you’ll do me the honor of joining me?” On impulse, Eris holds out his hand. 

“The honor is mine, Your Majesty. I find myself plagued by a similar curiosity.” There’s a hint of a smirk in Azriel’s polite smile, an edge of something that Eris cannot wait to unearth. 

Azriel takes his hand but, to Eris’s dismay, he’s wearing gloves. That won’t do. Eris needs this man’s skin beneath his fingers. He takes Azriel’s wrist in one hand and tugs off the glove with the other, bowing to press a lingering kiss to his scarred knuckles. 

Eris’s thumb trails over the ridges and divots. When he glances up at Azriel, he’s surprised to see the man’s eyes wide in horror. That won’t do either. 

Of course, Eris had anticipated that he’d worn the gloves for a reason, but he didn’t care about how the scars felt though he was curious to know how they got there and knew he wouldn’t like the eventual answer.

Holding Azriel’s gaze, Eris lifts his hand to his lips this time. “Beautiful,” he says, then kisses the word into the scarred skin. 

Azriel inhales sharply; the sound wavering a little even as the tense set of his shoulders vanishes.

Not yet willing to release this lovely enigma named Azriel, Eris tucks his hand into the crook of his elbow. “Shall we get that tea, then?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Azriel says, fingers flexing on Eris’s arm.

Oh yes, I intend to be.

“The pleasure,” Eris lets some of the hunger stirring in his gut fill his gaze, “is all mine, Azriel.”

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @ablogofsapphicpanic @iftheshoef1tz @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @the-lonelybarricade @krem-does-stuff @octobers-veryown @foundress0fnothing @melonsfantasyworld @fieldofdaisiies @lady-riel @queercontrarian @valkyrieassassin @brokeneveningstars @areyoudreaminof @itsthedoodle @xtaketwox @talons-and-teeth @thelovelymadone

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Grandeur @camillafezine! Between the 3 routes and FeH, there are so many what-ifs for Camilla that I had to explore them all. And lots of obligatory Nohr Sibling angst/fluff.

…

…

…

…

In another life, Camilla becomes a queen. A temporary one, perhaps, one that is only a stand-in, but a queen nonetheless. Xander lies ill in his chambers, a terrible wound on his chest incapacitating him. Their father is dead, the war is over, and Nohr is looking for a leader.

Camilla had never wanted to be that leader. Not even at the height of battle between mistresses, the jockeying of children as each of the king’s consorts vied for favour. Yet the duty falls on her nonetheless, as heavy as the robes on her back. She stares at her reflection in the mirror and finds a stranger looking back. The ermine-trimmed cloak, the sleek armour, none of it resembles her usual battle-attire in the least.

“This doesn’t look right,” she mutters under her breath. Long sleeves hide all but her hands, and she feels vulnerable without her trusty axe by her side. It feels even odder to just wait in this side-chamber, away from her family. Camilla’s coronation is in an hour, all the preparation is in place, and her younger siblings are no doubt rushing about, making sure nothing is forgotten.

Or perhaps it is just Leo who is rushing about—Elise and Corrin are no doubt tending to Xander, confident their perfectionist brother has it all under control. She should be out there with them, not hidden away until she’s called.

“What doesn’t?” Selena asks, reminding Camilla once more that she isn’t entirely alone. Resting a hand on her hip, the red-haired retainer scowls. “Did they apply the make-up too heavily? I told you I can do a better job than them.”

Camilla chuckles. At least this feels normal. She turns to where Selena stands, guarding the window. The grumpy pout is absolutely adorable and she feels her tension slip away. “I’ll keep that in mind next time, darling.”

“You better,” Selena huffs. From the corner of her eye, she studies Camilla before reluctantly admitting, “It’s not terrible.”

At the door, Beruka grunts and averts her gaze. “You look good.”

As rare as it is for the assassin to stand openly, it’s even rarer still to hear a compliment. Their shyness is even cuter than their sulking. Camilla wants nothing more than to pull them both into her arms and squeeze them, but it is almost time to go.

“I am glad you both approve,” Camilla replies, smiling brightly at both of them. Leo once told her she had no restraint; if only he could see her now. She cups her cheek and sighs. “If only you both wore dresses too.”

Beruka shudders immediately. Her reply is curt, as sharp as the blade she wields. “Assassins don’t wear dresses.”

There is nothing in that response about Beruka hating the idea. Camilla saves that information for later.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Selena hunches over and moans, “I would have, but I can’t do guard duty like that.” After a moment, as though realizing the implications, she straightens up and adds, “Not that I don’t want this duty.”

“Oh?” Camilla taps her chin, her long nails lightly scratching her skin. Perhaps she should look into battle dresses. They could be made in time for Xander’s coronation.

A shiver runs down her spine, a doubt entering her mind, but Camilla refuses to entertain it. Xander will recover. He will be crowned. He will be fine. If she thinks otherwise, she knows she’ll crumble.

Outside, she can hear nobles entering the grand cathedral, chittering like the crows and harpies they are. Most of them do not want her in this position: Leo is the second favourite after Xander, even more so for the flexibility they perceive in him. Elise is an easily manipulated choice and Corrin doesn’t exist in their eyes. Camilla is known for her blood thirst and beauty, and she has heard enough rumours about the madness they fear from her. No, it is the men the nobles look to.

It’ll be satisfying to see their faces when she steps out.

There’s a knock on the door. Camila swallows inconspicuously. “It’s time.”

Beruka nods and opens the door before slipping through it to secure their exit. Meanwhile, Selena stalks over. “One second.”

Camilla holds still, watching in curiosity as Selena readjusts her cloak and the sash across her chest. Her fingers are meticulous and battle-scarred. Not for the first time, Camilla wonders just what sort of life her retainer has led.

Just what sort of life she’ll return to, if given the chance.

Camilla isn’t certain she’s ready to say goodbye yet. She wasn’t before the war and she definitely isn’t now, in the midst of an uneasy peace. “You’ll tell me when you’ll leave, right?”

“Of course, I promised.” Selena pouts as she brushes imaginary dust from Camilla’s shoulders. “You don’t believe me?”

“I do.” Camilla smiles softly, squeezing Selena’s shoulder with a gloved hand.

“Good.” Selena grins unabashedly, surprisingly honest for once. “Though, I really hope I won’t have to go for a while. I want to see your reign myself.”

“You do?” Camilla stares at her retainer, surprised. “Why?”

“Yeah, I…” Catching herself, Selena flushes a bright red and averts her gaze. “That is…I…you’ll make a good queen.”

And then, she all but runs out of the room.

A good queen. Camilla isn’t sure she has it in her. If she ever had it in the first place. Still, there’s at least one person who thinks otherwise.

Camilla glances at the mirror again. She was not raised for this duty but she will master it all the same. She will keep her family together, her country in one piece.

In another lifetime, Camilla’s reflection stands a little straighter, ready for the weight of the crown.

-x-

In another life, Camilla abandons her duty. She takes the crown, as cool as her brother’s corpse, and drops it immediately. It is not a weight she wants to bear. It is not a weight she can bear.

Her body’s already crushed from the grief of losing both Xander and Elise in a single night. No longer does laughter ring in the hallways, no longer does lamp light spill out of the study at late hours. Her family shrinks until it is three, and then two.

The weight of hatred is just as heavy as grief and is no less binding.

The only light she has is Leo—King Leo, now, and Camilla clings to his hand like she’s drowning. The crown looks too big on his head, the robe still needs adjusting, and for a moment, all she can see is a child playing dress up.

“Xander would be proud,” Camilla murmurs, gently brushing his hair out of his face. “You’ve grown so much these past few weeks.”

To his credit, he doesn’t flinch, though a flicker of pain flashes across his face. Leo clenches his jaw. “I would rather he be here than me. This…this wasn’t how I wanted to beat him.”

This isn’t how Camilla wanted to overthrow her father either. If she had stepped in earlier, if she had done something before it got to this point, would things have been different? When would that have been? When Xander faced Corrin? When Elise left to bring Corrin into the castle? Or earlier still, when Corrin abandoned them for Hoshido, when her father ordered Corrin’s punishment, when her father first started to veer into darkness?

It is too late for what-ifs.

She is still full of them.

Her vision grows blurry and Camilla blinks quickly as she tries to keep her composure. She is tired of lying in bed, her days and nights blurring into the colour grey. Even if it is only for today, she wants to be herself again. She wants to be there, in the present.

Leo touches her hand lightly. When she looks at him, he gives her a small smile and taps his collar. “It’s not inside out today.”

She stares at him. To think, he’s consoling her now. Just when had he grown so mature? Camilla forces a smile as she straightens his robe. “I guess you don’t need my help anymore.”

“I do.” Leo clasps her hands immediately. His eyes are serious, even though his ears are red with embarrassment. “I always do. Now, more than ever.”

For a moment, Camilla’s reminded of a conversation they had months ago, when Leo quietly admitted he wished she’d dote on him more.

And now, he will be the only one she’ll ever dote on.

“I’ll be here,” she promises, her smile more genuine now. A bittersweet warmth fills her. Camilla leans forward, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “I’m always here for my darlings.”

Pensively, Leo asks, “What about…Corrin?”

“No.” Camilla immediately rejects the notion, the idea. She steps backward, her hands cold as they fall limply to her side. At one point, that name had meant everything to her. At one point, she couldn’t go an hour without thinking of their younger sister.

Now it’s enough to send her stomach churning, bile rising up her throat.

And Leo, the boy who taunted Corrin, the boy who teased her, is the man now protecting her. “She didn’t intend—”

“I don’t—I can’t…” Words fail Camilla and she covers her lips with a hand. Forcing herself to breath in through her nose and slowly out her mouth, she makes herself calm down. “I just…”

“I shouldn’t have asked.” Gently, Leo embraces her, his hands patting her back. Before, he had never been one for affectionate gestures. Now, she finds herself on the receiving end more than the giving. His hand had clasped hers while she wasted away on her bed, depression eating away at her core.

“No, it’s…” Camilla buries her face in his cloak, the ermine trim tickling her skin. “It was cute how you used to hold grudges over everything.”

“I still do,” Leo replies, his hand still patting her back. He’s taller, his shoulders broader, and she isn’t sure if she just never noticed or if his new duties gave him a growth spurt. “Odin ruined my favourite cloak yesterday, and he’s still making up for it.”

Camilla chuckles wetly. “Try not to be too hard on him. He’s cuter when he makes mistakes.”

“I don’t think he can be cured.” Leo sighs. His voice quiets. “I just don’t want anymore hate. Especially with Corrin. It’s not forgiveness just…I’m tired of fighting.”

 It sounds like forgiveness. Camilla wishes she had the strength. Corrin’s eyes were full of heartbreak when she’d apologized for Xander’s and Elise’s deaths. Somewhere in Hoshido, she must be crying too.

Somewhere in Hoshido, her other family is comforting her.

Camilla has never thought of herself as a bitter person, but it fills her all the same now. Leo’s warm in her arms, but all she can think about are the two people missing from this hug, the four arms that should be wrapped around them now.

“Even then,” Camilla murmurs. “I just can’t.”

-x-

In another life, Camilla attends a royal funeral in Hoshido. She watches two sisters mourn over their brothers, their grief shattering the younger one. Corrin mourns too, for the family she never knew, for Hoshido’s late queen caught up in their father’s schemes, for the life that she had lost.

In another life, Camilla watches the tears of strangers with a twinge of sympathy, but no regrets. Her family survives and that is all that matters.

-x-

In another life, Corrin lets go of her Nohrian family. She reaches for her long lost Hoshido brother, never looking back as they sweep her away into parts unknown.

In another life, Camilla’s heart breaks and then hardens. She had long known that Corrin’s place had never been in Nohr, that she was meant for something different, something special. It was easy enough to see with how their father treated her, this lost princess that neither Xander nor her could determine the origins of. Their father called her daughter, and they accepted it as fact.

And now, they are paying the price for their ignorance.

There is rage in her, like fire, like lightning, like the claws and teeth of her wyvern. Camilla has never known what is to hate, truly, until this moment. Not even when her mother pitted her against her siblings, not even when her father requested darker and darker missions of her, had she ever felt a hate like this.

“I want to come too,” Elise says, clutching her staff as she stands in the middle of Camilla’s room. To her credit, she doesn’t let her voice tremble. While she is the youngest of the siblings, she’s an adult nonetheless, one raised and ready for war.

Camilla has never felt a fear like this. It grips her heart with icy claws. Corrin is gone. War leads to death. And for all of Elise’s strength, she is not a fighter. There is no hesitation as she says, “No.”

Elise stiffens, expecting the response. She sets her jaw, her hands gripping her staff tighter. “Why not? I can fight too!”

“It’s too dangerous, dearest,” Camilla replies easily. It is not a lie. It is not the truth. She reaches down and strokes Elise’s soft hair. Her sister’s black ribbons were a birthday present three years ago, her dress last year’s, and Camilla can only see the tiny baby she vowed to protect.

Her sister pouts childishly up, her cheeks still chubby with baby fat. “That’s why I have to be there! I can protect everyone. I can even heal!”

The stubborn streak runs deep in their family. Camilla keeps her smile. “I’m sorry, Elise, but I can’t let you go to the front lines. You understand, I hope?”

There’s a grumpy exhale as Elise averts her gaze. After mulling over it for a moment, she brightens and chirps, “Then what about the medical tent?”

It’s a reasonable suggestion. A good one, even. Camilla discards it all the same. “No, dear. You have to stay here.”

“But why?” Elise grabs her hand tightly, confused. “I can help!”

“I…” Camilla cups Elise’s cheek, brushing her thumb across her baby soft cheeks. There is a hole in her chest, a black void that she doesn’t want to grow any bigger. Corrin escaped her arms, but she refuses to let anyone else do so. And if she has to clip a few wings, then that’s what she’ll do.  

Camilla wraps her arms around her younger sister, pulling her in for a tight hug. “Please. Just for today. I’m worried.”

“Sis…” Elise sighs before hugging her back. “Finneee. I’ll stay. But next time, I’m fighting right next to you.” She looks up, determined. “I can protect you too.”

“Next time,” Camilla agrees. Camilla lies. She’ll have to find another excuse. Her gilded cage cannot open again. Part of her wonders if she can get a fine, gold chain made, if she can slip it around Elise’s ankles so she doesn’t sneak into the slums like she’s prone to do.

-x-

In another life, Camilla takes Azura’s hand. As a child, she knows intimately of loneliness, of alienation, of all the feelings one has while watching from afar. No one notices or acknowledges Azura, whether it’s their father, their siblings, or the competing consorts. Maybe they see competition. Maybe they see a weak girl, one easy to disappear.

Camilla sees a friend. She takes Azura’s hand and clasps it tight.

When tragedy strikes, when Hoshido and Nohr take up arms and hostages are kidnapped, Camilla is taken with Azura. Even in danger, Camilla refuses to let go of her people. Though she doesn’t know how to wield her axe yet, she still has her strength and loyalty.

The Hoshidan queen and chief tactician hardly know what to do with not one, but two Nohrian princesses. The whole thing is a mistake, but Nohr will not return Corrin and so Hoshido cannot give up their hostages. The games royalty plays are the same regardless of what side of the border they’re on. Nobles of all stripes only care for how they can use the two girls and how to torment them otherwise.

The children, however, are different, and in them Camilla sees a glimpse of what her family could have been. There is no contest for the throne, no pitting of heirs in a battle of the fittest. Instead, the siblings work together. Instead, despite their loss, Sakura reaches out with shaky hands, Ryoma gives a firm hug, and Hinoka a begrudging smile. Only Takumi glares and ignores them, but Camilla finds that adorable anyways.

In this life, Azura doesn’t know loneliness. Camilla refuses to let her. The walls she keeps up between herself and the Hoshidan royals shatter with a single swing of Camilla’s mighty will.  Years pass and memories of Nohr are replaced with green grass, clean air, and sun-like warmth.

Now an adult, Camilla stays still as she watches Azura tug her kimono, trying and failing to cover her ample cleavage. With a soft sigh, Azura reluctantly gives up and steps back. “I am afraid I cannot adjust it any further. It’s not…”

Azura trails off meaningfully and Camilla chuckles. Her bust is not made for an outfit like this. Neither are the rest of her curves and that is why Takumi always looks away, scandalized, or Ryoma offers her his heavy cloak whenever they make formal appearances.

“I like to think of it as a new style,” Camilla says cheerfully, twirling around. Her kimono loosens even more with the movement. Ignoring Azura’s soft groan, she reaches onto their bedroom dresser and picks up a gold earring. “Your dress looks lovely, darling. You just need this to finish it properly.”

Azura shakes her head, mirth filling her voice. “You never tire of dressing me up.”

“Of course not.” Camilla beams brightly. “I love pampering those I love. And you deserve it.”

“So do you.” A familiar shadow crosses Azura’s face and she bites her lip. “You should be in Nohr, with your siblings.” She rubs her wrist anxiously. “Your youngest sister doesn’t even know your face.”

“She does not know yours either,” Camilla replies softly. It is just like Azura to forget herself.

“That’s fine.” Azura shakes her head. “You weren’t even the target of the kidnapping, and they…they didn’t know me regardless.”

They had argued this before. They will argue this in the future. Camilla grabs Azura’s hands, clasping them tightly in her own. “I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let you go alone. I don’t regret it.”

Azura stares at her in disbelief. “Don’t you miss your siblings?”

“Every day. Every minute. And one day, I will return to see them.” Camilla intertwines their fingers. “But I love my new family too.”

Azura gnaws her lip. “But—”

“No buts,” Camilla interrupts, settling the matter once and for all. “I am quite happy with my life. Aren’t you?”

There’s a soft sigh and Azura hangs her head. Quietly, she admits, “Happier than I was there.”

It’s a sad truth. Camilla holds out the earring. “It’s only here I see your smile. So please don’t talk like that, dear.”

In another life, Camilla doesn’t know Corrin. She barely knows Elise. But she does know Sakura, Hinoka, Ryoma, Takumi, and Azura. She knows a mother’s warmth and a kind home and she is all the richer for it.

-x-

In another life, Camilla comforts a grieving, distraught Corrin after Azura’s disappearance. They fought a war together and still Camilla does not think much of the blue-haired girl, not even enough to feel a small pang of what could have been.

In another life, Azura is remembered as a traitor by the Hoshidans, a nobody to the Nohrians, and it is only Corrin who grieves the loss.

-x-

In another life, Camilla and Xander do not hesitate. They are loyal to the bone, their family the most important part of their life. Despite the cruelty their father teaches and their mothers practice, the Nohrian prince and princess are shaped by their love for their siblings. And it is out of that love that they turn their blades on their father, cutting him down before all that’s left of the warm man they once knew are memories of a tyrant.

Elise and Leo are asleep in their rooms, unaware of the treachery underfoot tonight. The guards turn a blind eye, lulled by the promise of a better tomorrow, a better Nohr. Inside the expansive throne room, Camilla sets down her bloody axe with a dull thud. She leans on it, panting.

Nearby, in the very center of the room, lies their father’s broken, cooling body. Xander stands in front of it, staring. There should be tears neither of them are shedding. Perhaps it’s the shock.

“It’s done,” she finally says, breaking the silence.

“So it is,” Xander agrees, not looking at her. His posture is abnormally stiff. Camilla knows who he is, the distance he’s forced onto himself in order to lower their father’s guard. It was a role they needed while waiting for this moment.

Now the moment is gone and there is no longer any need for the ‘cold princeling’. Camilla forces her weary limbs into an awkward shuffle. When she reaches her brother, she pulls him close until their foreheads’ touch. She doesn’t have to see his eyes to know the guilt within. “This was the right thing.”

He’s still looking at their father’s body. His reply is textbook perfect. “That doesn’t mean it was right.”

“That distinction only matters to you,” Camilla replies evenly, weaving her hand through his hair and massaging his scalp. It works; he relaxes at her soothing touch. Smiling, she adds, “And that is why you will make a great king, dear.”

“Father—Garron was one.” Xander trembles, tiny earthquakes revealing the heart of his problem. “Who’s to say I will not end up the same?”

“I do, darling.” Camilla pulls back and squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “Will that be enough?”

“You doubt my strength?” Camilla raises a brow.

Xander flinches. “No, that wasn’t—”

“Besides, Leo will also be there. He has to chase you adorably, after all. And Elise will keep your heart safe. And Corrin—” Camilla cuts herself off, recalling the newest member of their family.

“Corrin…” Xander’s expression darkens, remembering how Garron had presented her to court after her kidnapping. “She shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

It’s true. Camilla doesn’t like it nonetheless. Something dark, possessive curls up within her. She doesn’t like that either; it’s something Garron would feel. Maybe she’s the one who takes after him, his tendencies waiting within her to spring out.

His blood is cooling on her hands. She doesn’t need to learn another lesson on obsession.

“We’ll send her home,” Xander decides. “An exchange of hostages.”

Briefly, Camilla remembers the blue-haired princess. Asura? Ashura? Another addition to the family either way. If only she could keep both girls in Nohr. “Do you think they’ll agree?”

Xander hesitates before nodding. “I believe it was just Garron who was stalling the peace talks.”

“I see.” Camilla reaches down, picking the blood-splattered crown off the ground. She rubs it with a sleeve, wiping it clean. In the flickering torch light, it gleams red.

“We’ll make things right. Here first, and then abroad.” Xander smiles wanly before ducking his head slightly at her silent request.

The crown slips onto his head too easily. “I know you will, dear.”

If there is anyone who can uphold such a lofty promise, it’s him.

-x-

In another life, Garron lives and Nohr wins the war. Camilla knows only of blood, of pain, and how to inflict it on others. To her regret, it’s a lesson Elise, Leo, and Corrin have now learned too. Villages burn, people die, and whether it is loyalty or fear, none of them are able to turn on their father and stop him.

Camilla tries not to think of how long it’s been since she’s seen anyone smile.

-x-

In another life, there is peace. Nohr and Hoshido do not fight. Garron died by Corrin’s hands; there could not be peace otherwise, their father too far gone to return to the kind man from their memories. Camilla doesn’t mind. She can’t mourn someone who they’d lost long before he’d breathed his last.

Corrin spends her days flitting between her families, between Nohr, Hoshido, and a lost kingdom of her own. A lost power of her own. A family of her own.

Yet, still she comes when they call. Today, that call is at the beach. Xander is holding Elise’s hands as he tries to teach her how to swim, while Leo hides under an umbrella with his book. It won’t protect him for long but it’s cute that he tries.

Camilla stands at a distance, watching them all. Even now, in this time of quiet and serenity, a single fear runs down her back. Something could shatter it. It might even be herself; despite all reassurances that they’re safe, Camilla finds it impossible to let go of her family.

Sometimes, she fears her love is too much, too great. That her parents’ darkness is her own.

“What are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Corrin asks, stepping onto the hot sand next to her. From the corner of her eye, Camilla spots Jakob running over with an umbrella. Sometimes it feels like she shares the same mind with Corrin’s loyal retainer.

“Nothing, dearest.” Camilla smiles as she pats her sister’s hair. “I wish I could have a painting of this. Maybe next time.”

“Then we’d have to stay still for hours. Elise would complain.” Corrin chuckles, dismissing the idea. “We’re supposed to have fun at the beach, not in a painting.”

“That’s true.” Camilla wonders how long they’ll be able to do this, how long it’ll be before Xander’s and Corrin’s duties keep them further and further away. “How long will you stay?”

“I’d like to say as long as I want but…” Corrin grimaces, her expression gaunt. It’s the same expression Elise has when she looks at her studies. “Well, I can’t run away for too long, but hopefully a few days. I don’t want to go back to that fortress, but things were a lot simpler then.”

Sometimes, Camila wishes the same. There was no need to share Corrin, back then. Elise still didn’t know the darkest truths of their kingdom. “If you need help, just let me know.”

“That’s just what Xander and Ryoma told me too.” Corrin laughs as she squeezes Camilla’s hand. “You let me know too, okay? We’re family, after all. You don’t have to shoulder things by yourself anymore, you can share it with us.”

It’s a truth Camilla knows already, but it sounds more real when Corrin says it. “We are family.”

“Of course.” Corrin leans her head against Camilla’s arm. “Always.”

Always. Camilla likes the ring of that.

In another life, Camilla is happy.

[shadowqueenjude]

Day 4 of @gwynweekofficial Adventure

I wrote a little Targwyn! May or may not continue this depending on the response to this.

Premise: With Elain and Lucien off traversing through the continent fighting death gods and riding pegasi, Nesta had regained her original position as Emissary to the Night Court. She was probably a terrible choice given how often she pissed people off, but with Mor gone to Vallahan, she was the only remaining member of the Night Court with any experience in politics. Rhysand and Feyre had been banned once more from Summer, likely as a result of Tamlin informing Tarquin of Rhysand’s frequent unwelcome visits to Spring, Cassian and Azriel were hopeless in that department, and Amren didn’t give a shit. When Nesta reaches out to Tarquin to repair relationships damaged by her sister and her mate, Gwyn and Emerie take the opportunity to brave the world outside Night for the first time in ages.

Gwyn took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

This was her first trip outside of the Night Court since the fateful incident. The one which had turned her life upside down. The one where she had failed and lost, again and again. Which led to her running to the library to hide away.

Yet without that incident, she would’ve never wound up in Night. She would’ve never met her best friends Nesta and Emerie. She would’ve never become a Carynthian.

She would’ve never become a Valkyrie.

Deep breaths. Gwyn concentrated on her breathing. In. out. She took in the scents of her surroundings. Nesta’s lavender scents. Emerie’s mix of various spices.

You are not strong enough for this.

I take that thought and let it go. I am strong. Stronger than my demons, stronger than my past. We all are.

Gwyn placed one of her hands in Nesta’s and the other in Emerie’s, opening her eyes with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the world I missed out on.”

They were all three of them in blue dresses to honor the Summer Court. Nesta wore a shimmering silvery dress that matched the color of her eyes, with a large, billowing skirt with lacy butterflies attached to it that looked like something a queen would wear to a royal ball. A silver and diamond tiara adorned her braided hair while diamond and emerald jewelry hung around her neck, her wrists, and her fingers.

Gwyn was in a teal dress which also matched her eyes; it was a long, sleeveless dress with a highly ruffled skirt that went down to the floor; it gave her the look of a mermaid. Enormous sapphires sparkled from the necklace she had on, a gift from Amren to Nesta which Nesta had passed on to Gwyn, and her sapphire heart studs looked adorable on her, as well as her bracelet of seashells. Her fiery hair had been tied up in a chignon bun, a tanzanite tiara glittering from her head.

Emerie was in a navy blue dress that complemented her skin very well. The dress was off-shoulder and there was a slit on one side that cut to mid-thigh. Aside from that, the dress was rather plain; it was the jewelry that made it look spectacular. Incredible gold jewelry with amethyst and garnet gemstones, complete with a man tikka that somewhat resembled an invoking stone were it not for its deep red color. Amethyst was for Emerie’s favorite color, royal purple. The garnet was a nod to Emerie’s Illyrian heritage, which she had recently decided to embrace.

Together, they looked like High Ladies. Gwyn laughed when they’d all settled down in the carriage, saying, “We look like we’re headed towards our own coronations.”

Nesta snorted, Emerie smirking on her other side. “Maybe we would all be dressing like this had I accepted Eris’s proposal.”

“Well, technically you still can,” Emerie mused.

Gwyn gasped. “Em!”

“What? Like Eris wouldn’t take her, rejected proposal or not? I mean, she’s Nesta. Besides, the Autumn Court sounds so cool.”

Gwyn shook her head emphatically. “Yes, but Nesta loves Cassian. Nothing can equal that.”

Nesta chose that moment to speak. “Do I?”

Gwyn blinked. “Sweetie…we attended your mating ceremony. We were all there. You were glowing then.”

Nesta sighed. “Yes, but now…now I’m having some doubts. Perhaps this time away from him will help me get clarity.”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged concerned glances but did not push. They’d have plenty of time to get the truth out of Nesta anyway.

Gwyn was gently shaken awake when the carriage arrived before the Summer Court palace. Gwyn stared in awe.

The palace was hewn from light brown stone upon a mountain-island floating in a bay the shape of a crescent. The floating lantern lights that lit up the surrounding city gave the whole place an ethereal glow. Guards at the entrance opened the sea-glass doors to them as they walked in. They must have been waiting for them.

Her dress suddenly felt plain before the magnificence of this castle. The man who lived here had to be very powerful, and not happy with their ruler at all. Gwyn gulped, feeling the nerves settle in. Her hands shook slightly.

“Hey.” Nesta grabbed her wrist. “We’re here. We’re with you.”

Emerie nodded grimly, gripping her other hand. “If you want to leave, I’ll escort you out while Nesta carries on the conversation.” Gwyn nodded. “I am the rock against which the surf crashes,” she whispered. Since there was an enormous ocean near them, it felt appropriate.

“Nothing can break us,” Nesta and Emerie answered fiercely.

Gwyn felt nothing but calm as they were escorted to a patio to wait for Tarquin and his most trusted advisors. Being near the sea calmed her too. She breathed in the sea salt air, stared at the powerful body of water that exuded possibilities.

“Ladies.” Gwyn looked up, her breath catching in her throat. The trio was heavenly beautiful, their dark skin in stark contrast with their brilliant turquoise eyes and silvery white hair. The one in the middle emanated power, and Gwyn instantly knew he was the High Lord. The woman to his right stared them down suspiciously.

They all three of them scrambled out of their chairs to bow. “High Lord,” Nesta said reverently, bowing deeply.

The male waved her off. “Please call me Tarquin. High Lord is far too formal.”

“High Lord!” The lady snapped, pulling him aside. She hissed something in Tarquin’s ear that typical High Fae hearing wouldn’t be able to catch, but her water nymph blood gave her a built-in sonar system that allowed her to catch what others wouldn’t be able to.

“You can’t trust these folk. Remember what happened last time?”

“These are not Rhysand’s inner circle members, Cresseida.”

“No,” Cresseida retorted. “They’re his lackeys.”

“We are not Rhysand’s lackeys,” Gwyn called loudly. Both Cresseida and Tarquin looked back at her in surprise. Nesta and Emerie turned towards her too.

“You heard that?” Tarquin asked, intrigued. Gwyn smiled. “Super hearing is one of my many talents.”

Cresseida raised a brow. “Oh? Then pray tell, what are your other talents?”

Gwyn shrugged, her smile transforming into a grin. “Allow me to introduce myself more formally. Gwyneth Berdara. Carynthian. Priestess. Valkyrie. How do you do?”

Murmuring broke out amongst the trio. “Valkyrie?” The other male asked. “Last we heard, the Valkyries were no more.”

Nesta stepped forward. “With the help of Gwyn’s research, we’ve revived it.” Gwyn turned to Nesta, beaming. “Nesta is the new leader of the Valkyries. She is also the emissary to the Night Court, but let me tell you, she’s had her fair share of spats with Rhysand.”

Nesta nodded. “Most of the time, we do not see eye to eye. We hate each other, but we have an understanding not to get in each other’s way. He is too proud to come and try to make peace here, so he has sent me in his stead.” Nesta inclined her head at Tarquin. “We met. At the High Lord’s meeting. Remember?”

Gwyn did not know what happened at this meeting, but Nesta must have made a big impact there if the Summer Court trio was now looking at them with more respect.

“Here’s the deal, then,” Cresseida said. “Kill Rhysand, and we will consider an alliance with you.”

The male on the far left gasped, and Tarquin glared at her reproachfully. Nesta steepled her fingers before her. “I’m…not sure I will be able to do that.”

“Then get out,” Cresseida snapped, and she flung her hand in Nesta’s direction.

“Don’t touch my friend!” Gwyn shrieked, stepping in front of Nesta, who had frozen. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

Which didn’t come. Gwyn opened her eyes, and to her amazement, a watery barrier resembling a shield had formed in front of her and Nesta. Everyone was staring at her. She blinked.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she muttered, dropping her hand. The shield disappeared. Tarquin laughed softly, and Gwyn’s eyes snapped to his. There was appreciation there, perhaps because she had protected her friend instinctively, and dare she say some affection?

“You’re of Summer Blood,” Tarquin observed. “Interesting.”

Gwyn blinked, surprise overtaking her. “I-I didn’t know. I never knew my father.”

Tarquin took a few steps towards her. “Would you like to stay awhile and learn to control your magic?”

Gwyn’s mouth dropped open before she remembered to control herself and closed it. A High Lord offering to teach her magic? She couldn’t help it; she could feel her face turning as red as her hair.

She stammered “I- wow, you would really-I mean yes, thank you so much.”

Tarquin gave her that adorable soft smile again. “You are most welcome, Gwyneth Berdara.”

[mysteriouslytransparentwitch]

Hello! I love how everyone is freaking out about the article by Low saying Kate’s gonna wear a flower headpiece.

Every paper speculation has been shown to be wrong. There will be children carrying the canopy! 1. It’s a screen and 2. It will be military people careying it. No coronation chairs! They were actually made. No use of the ivory rod! She is going to use it. Journos have been throwing out hypothesis because the palace is tight-lipped and they are just in the mode “let’s see what sticks”. 

People forget the historical view of this event: the working royals will be prominent. Will be wearing robes and white-tie attire as they will be filmed and photographed for historic purposes that will be viewed in the future. 

They are just trying to find a balance between tradition and modern times which has been reflecred in the updated service by cutting down the elite of peerages and let people who does charity and co take a role in the ceremony. Including women to play a role held only by men before for example or including representatives of other faiths to mirror and honiur the other countries they are sovreign of.

I get why is day dress as general. The peers that were so central in the previous times when they ctually had psome power and co have been now sidelined as the times have changed and so their relevance too. 

People freaked out about the Jubilee too and how it turned out? Better than expected as 1. The queen put Harry in his place. 2. We got our baby boss and other royal children 3. The final and emotional balcony moment and the big crowd signing God save the Queen

I have a feeling this coronation will be well perceived and at least meet our expectations, if not exceed them.

I just can’t wait to see this historical moment take place. We are going to witness history being made like the week that lead to the Queen’s funeral.

AMEN

[robynmizore]

Redemption Special Chapter:

A Hoshidan Birthday

“Hey, Takumi.. when’s your birthday?” Robyn asked suddenly. 

They were sitting next to each other, books in laps in front of the roaring fireplace in Robyn’s room, absorbed in reading. It was nearly the end of the year now, Alfonse’s coronation ball rapidly approaching. Surprisingly, she remembered her own birthday was soon, and while she’d seen the other heroes celebrate birthdays, she’d yet to see the prince even mention his. For some reason, the question prompted a faint blush on the prince’s cheeks. 

“..My birthday? Why are you asking about that?”

”Because I want to celebrate with you, silly!”

”Ah.. is that so?” He glanced away, seeming self conscious. “Well.. when’s yours?” 

“I asked you first!”

”Fine.. let’s both say it on three.” Takumi chuckled. “Three.. two.. one!”

”December 14th!” they both said at the same time. 

“What?! We have the same birthday?!” Takumi exclaimed. 

It would seem they had even more in common than they thought..

”B-but that would mean both our birthdays are..”

”..Tomorrow.” Takumi finished. 

Both stared at each other, faces flushed, eyes wide until at last, Takumi spoke up first. 

“I uh.. I have to go.. d-do something. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

He shot out of the room at the speed of an arrow, and a soft blush covered the Summoner’s cheeks. 

..He’s totally planning something for me.. isn’t he? she thought as affection bubbled in her chest. 

Takumi paced the halls of the Askrian castle restlessly, mumbling to himself. 

“I can’t believe Robyn and I have the same birthday. Hm.. what to get her..” he mused. 

While he wanted to run out to the markets and buy the most beautiful thing he could find, the prince found he was rather indecisive. He was determined to find the courage to confess soon, but their shared birthday wasn’t the time to do so. If he got her something too extravagant, it may raise some questions he wasn’t yet ready to answer. 

“..But its still our first one together, so it’ll still need to be special.”

Takumi was so distracted, he didn’t notice the footsteps stealthily approaching him until the the familiar voice hissed eerily in his ear.

”..Special you say? I know juuuust what you need..” 

Stifling a groan, Takumi turned to face Niles, who was wearing his infamous smirk. 

“Whatever gross idea you have, I’m not interested.” he growled. 

“Aw.. it isn’t gross! Quite the opposite actually!” the thief circled him, Takumi’s eyes narrowing in suspicion.

”You want your precious little Summoner to have the best gift ever, right? Lucky for you, I happen to know exactly what she wants.”

I’m not falling for that!

But then again.. Niles was well aware of his feelings, and was known to be quite observant. Maybe he did actually know what the Summoner wanted. It couldn’t hurt to play along for a little bit.. right?

”F-fine! But don’t try anything funny!”

I’m only doing this for Robyn!

”Wouldn’t dream of it. Okay first, take this long red ribbon and tie it around yourself.”

”Um.. okay.”

Takumi caught the red ribbon with a frown, then slowly tied it around himself. 

“Okay, now repeat after me: Happy birthday! I’m your present!” Niles instructed with a pleasant smile. 

“H-happy birthday, I’m your present- WAIT WHAT?!”

Takumi froze, blushing profusely as the realization of what he just uttered hit him.

”Pft- HAHAHAHA! That’s perfect!” Niles cackled. 

“D-damn it, Niles! I’m going to kill you!” Takumi seethed, his blood boiling with rage and humiliation. 

“Ha, you can kill me after you get out of that ribbon!” the thief taunted. “Have fuuuun~”

”GET BACK HERE!!!” Takumi shouted, but Niles had already retreated down the halls, and when Takumi tried to pursue him, the prince found himself still tangled up in the ribbon. 

“Gods, this is embarrassing. I just hope Robyn doesn’t see me like this..” he muttered. 

“T-Takumi?”

Gods why?! the Hoshidan groaned inwardly as the familiar voice called his name and turned, only to be greeted with the sight of the Summoner wrapped up in a red ribbon, being nudged forward by Gaius and Caledori. 

“Go on, say it!” Caledori encouraged. 

What in the..?!

The Summoner lowered her head sheepishly and mumbled 

“H-happy birthday.. I-I’m your present..”

“YES!!!” Caledori and Gaius whooped, high-fiving.

”Nailed it!”

Gaius’s cheer was cut short by the look of absolute murder that was also known as Takumi’s death glare. 

“You’re both dead..” he deadpanned, and with a quick “oops!”, they took off down the hall.

Rolling his eyes, the prince made his way over to the poor Summoner, who still wouldn’t lift her head to look at him, and he didn’t even need to see her face to know how flustered she was.

”They got you too, didn’t they?” he sighed. “Here, let me help.”

Together, they managed to untangled the ribbons until they both lay on a heap on the ground. 

“Thanks..” Robyn mumbled, then sighed. “..We’re getting them back for that later, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

They parted ways soon after with a promise to meet up in the evening. There was an unspoken agreement that they’d be going to prepare gifts for each other. Robyn hurried to the kitchen, the wheels in her head turning. Her happiest memories were snuggled up by the fireplace with Takumi, especially after a hard night.

I want to make him something that reminds us both of that. Something that’ll show him just how special he is to me.

Takumi wove his way through the market, a huge grin on his face. The small box in his pouch filled him with a sense of warmth. The prince was never really considered warm, and when the topic of gifts came up, he always drew a blank. But the second he laid eyes on it, he knew he had to get it for her. The prince’s pace quickened, his heart fluttering as he made haste back to the castle. 

I’ve never felt this excited for birthdays in the past. Is it because of Robyn?

Robyn carried the box carefully atop a folded blanket, a serene smile on her lips as she headed towards the garden. That was the place where he’d seen her face for the first time, and where’d they’d shared a deeply vulnerable moment. There they would be undisturbed, or so she thought when her eyes spotted a figure sitting up ahead on a candlelit blanket. 

Wait that’s-

“..Takumi?” 

The prince looked up with a start, a small flush overtaking his cheeks when they landed on her. 

“R-Robyn?! Why are you here?!”

”I.. I was setting up something for us here..” the Summoner mumbled, a bit lost for words. 

Takumi stared at her incredulously for a moment, then burst out laughing. 

“Wh-what’s so funny?”

Now it was her then to blush until he finally stopped laughing with a small shake of his head. 

“We’re so alike, we could be twins!” he chuckled. 

Without thinking, Robyn let down her hood and replied 

“Good thing we’re not, because then I couldn’t-“

The words froze on her lips as realization flooded over her, turning her face crimson. 

“..Couldn’t what?” Takumi inquired with a frown as he observed her sudden change in demeanor. 

“Oh.. it’s nothing.” the Summoner replied as she settled on to the candlelit blanket. 

I can’t believe I just almost admitted my feelings so casually!

The prince was still staring at her, intrigued, his head tilted slightly, hazel eyes missing nothing. Thinking quickly, Robyn held out the box to him.

”I um.. I made you a gift? You.. you can open it now if you want..”

”You made me something?”

While he looked a little flustered, there was no denying the way his face lit up, chasing away her embarrassment. Robyn noticed how careful he was as he took the box delicately from her, opening it with great care. Takumi froze at the sight that greeted him, his mouth opening and closing several times. Tears welled in his eyes. 

“Robyn I.. I don’t know what to say..” Takumi whispered, reaching up to hastily dry them. “This is probably the most thoughtful gift anyone has given me..”

Inside the box was an assortment of handmade mochi in all various flavors. But that wasn’t what had brought the tears to his eyes. Robyn had spent a fair amount of time shaping then into the shape of Takumi’s late mother’s headpiece. And seeing the Hoshidan’s response to her efforts made all the work worth it. 

“I know she can’t be here with you today physically, so I thought by making these, you could still feel like she’s here celebrating with us. In her own way.”

Takumi let out a quiet sob, then embraced her tightly. 

“T-thank you. I won’t ever forget this..”

Robyn returned the hug, his scent wreathing around her as his silver hair brushed her cheek.

”I have something for you.” Takumi said, finally pulling back as he gave her a look so warm, it filled her whole body. 

“Oh?”

The prince placed two small round green balls in cups. 

“Just watch.” 

Mystified, Robyn watched as Takumi poured steaming water over them. Her confusion turned to absolute wonder as balls began to slowly unfurl until they formed..

”..A white azalea flower!” Robyn gasped as the flower settled on the bottom of the cup, and the scent of genmaicha hit her nose. “And it’s also my favorite tea?! Takumi, you’re amazing!”

”I’m.. glad you like it.” Takumi replied, smiling as her, a blush on his cheeks from her praise. 

They shared the mochi and tea together in an amicable silence.

”This is more than I could have asked for..” she breathed, soaking in the atmosphere. “..Happy birthday, Takumi.”

”I feel the same.. Happy birthday, Robyn.”

Later that night, Takumi headed for Caledori’s room, his heart fluttering nervously in his chest, and he kept checking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed, then knocked on her door. The redhead answered immediately, like she’d been expecting him. 

“There you are! Ready for your lesson?”

”Yes.” Takumi replied determinedly, letting her usher him inside and they closed the door. 

Back in her own room, Robyn traced the glowing white flowers that adorned the silver fabric, her eyes softening as pleasant smile made its way to her lips.

It would appear they both had something special planned for the ball…

[cyansadness]

Prologue

two royal families, one future king, one future royal advisor, and one proclamation that is about to change everything

author's note: first official chapter!! woo!! but now get ready for the drama

word count: 1225

Once upon a time, long long time ago, after Cindy got away from stepmother and stepsisters from hell, she and her sweet prince decided to merge their kingdom with Belle and her newly transformed beast and created Auradon.

Blah, blah, bunch of legal stuff. Obviously, they booted all the cool people like the villains, the sidekicks, and everyone in between out of Auradon and to this little island off the coast called the Isle of the Lost with a magic barrier around it.

No wifi, no magic, no way in or out. Until now. Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet us real soon. But before that, you have to see this first.

:readmore:

Buddy Charming stood on the pedestal, looking towards the Isle through the window. He was wearing a rough version of his coronation suit as the tailor took measurements. “Are you sure this is a good idea Janey?” Buddy asked, turning towards his girlfriend and future royal adviser. 

The tailor scolded Buddy, turning him back towards the front. Jane Laurent sat in an armchair behind Buddy, still wearing a rough version of her own coronation dress even though she had finished her fitting ages ago. 

Jane looked up from her notes, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Yes Buddy, it will. We have a strong plan, good candidates, and multiple contingency plans.” Jane reassured him. “We are going to be running this kingdom in less than two months. We need to show our parents we can make good and drastic decisions that will help the kingdom.” Jane said confidently. 

She wasn’t sure how much of that confidence was real. There is so much that can go wrong. But she knew this was something she had to do. No more fear. That’s what she promised herself when she was offered to be Buddy’s advisor. 

“There they are. I can’t believe you two are going to rule the kingdom soon.” King Kit Charming said as he and Ella walked into Buddy’s room where the fitting was taking place. Adam and Belle, Jane’s parents along with Jane’s younger sister, Francesca or Frenchy as Jane called her, walked in with them. 

“Kit, they’re growing up.” Adam chuckled, clapping him on the back. Jane stood up, lifting her dress slightly so she could walk towards her parents. “Oh Jane, my little princess is all grown up.” Adam smiled at his eldest daughter. Jane smoothed the tulle of her dress, blushing at the compliment. 

“Mom, Dad, Jane and I have been talking and we’ve chosen up with our first official proclamation.” Buddy went to step off the podium but was held back by the tailor. Jane turned to look at Buddy, who gave her a nod of encouragement to continue. Both sets of parents look proud and excited to see what their children have come up with.

“We’ve decided that the children on the Isle of the Lost be given a chance to live here in Auradon.” Jane said with as much confidence as she could muster which was increasing harder to find now being in front of both sets of monarchs.

The looks of pride and excitement turned to shock as five jaws simultaneously dropped. “What?” Belle said after a few moments of silence. “Those kids are about to be our subjects too. We can’t just abandon them on that island.” Buddy told their parents as he walked to stand next to Jane. 

Buddy grabbed Jane’s hands, interlacing their fingers. “You want the new generation of monsters to live amongst us?” Kit remarked, a slight venom to his words. “We start out with a few. The ones that would benefit the most.” Buddy said to his father. 

“We’ve already chosen them. And they’re not monsters. They’re just children.” Jane said, much to her mother’s dismay about talking back to the King. “Really?” Kit asked, stalking closer to the young couple. 

Buddy stood slightly in front of Jane as she grabbed Buddy’s arm. “Wait, hear them out. Second chances are kind of our thing.” Belle said, stopping Kit from getting closer to the two. “So who are these kids? And who are their parents?” Ella asked the two teenagers in front of her.

Buddy and Jane looked at each other, trying to figure out how to do this without getting yelled at by their parents. “Uh, Mr. Smee, Cruella De Vil, The Evil Queen, Captain Hook.” Jane started, poking Buddy to finish for her.

“Drizella.” Buddy said, making his father gasp and his mother’s eyes widen slightly. “Gaston.” Belle grabbed her husband’s arm and held Frenchy closer to her. “And Maleficent.” Buddy finished, making everyone in the room shout in either fear or anger.

“Maleficent? People call her the Mistress of all Evil for a reason Buddy. All of them are guilty of unspeakable actions.” Kit yelled at the two. “Yes, they are. Their children are not. These kids are our age. They haven’t done anything wrong.” Jane shouted, letting go of Buddy’s arm and stepping towards the king.

“Whether we like it or not, the Isle is still part of our kingdom. We owe it to them to be the good leaders you all raised us to be.” Jane stood her ground, confidence coming from seemingly nowhere. Her voice quieted down a bit as she calmed herself down. 

“Don’t they deserve a chance at a good life like the rest of us? Why should they be punished for their parents’ actions?” Jane questioned, her voice portraying a childlike innocence. 

The adults all look at each other, silently communicating with each other. Buddy walked towards Jane, putting his arm around her shoulder. “You did good. I’m proud of you.” Buddy whispered, kissing the top of Jane’s head. 

Kit turned towards the two. “I supposed their children haven’t done any wrong.” He said, still uneasy with the idea. Jane and Buddy both smiled. He was coming around. That’s a good thing.

Ella walked towards the two, cupping Jane’s cheek softly and placing a hand on her son’s biceps. “You are going to change this kingdom for the better.” She smiled at the pair but they all knew. They knew that she was talking about Jane. Jane would change everything for the better. 

Ella walked away and towards her husband, grabbing his awaiting arm. Jane turned towards her parents. Her mother gave her a curt nod, making Jane deflate a little. Jane didn’t need her mother’s approval over her own laws but a little pride would be nice. Belle and Adam made their way out, Frenchy bouncing alongside them after giving her sister a shining smile. 

As soon as the pair were alone, they walked over to the window that looked across from the Isle. “We’re making the right decision right?” Buddy asked. “Of course we are.” Jane said, smiling as she turned towards her boyfriend. 

Buddy cupped Jane’s cheek, running over her cheekbone with his thumb. “Okay.” Buddy said. Jane smiled, grabbing Buddy by the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling him down for a kiss. Buddy smiled into the kiss as his hand stayed on Jane’s face as his other arm went around her waist, pulling her small frame flush against him.

Okay, enough of that. We don’t need to see all of that. Now for the actual interesting part of the story. This is me and my gang. 

i don't think i have to tell you who is this narrator but take your guesses in the comments

[inact-ice]

Episode 10!!!!!

I’m almost doooooone

- aw Abby

- she’s leaving soon right, noooo

- bucks holding Abby so gently like my queen deserves

- Abby girl you better be taking a leave of absence rn to heal

- yeah I figured cause the British accent was so fake sounding

- ok bobby and Athena hintsss

- ABBY WAS IN THE OLYMPICS?!! AND NOBODY TOLD MEEEE. Ugh Abigail Clark you can do no wrong

- Bobbert, who are you getting all cute for sir??? Oh dear. Someone take this camera away from him. Chimney he’s watching porn at WORK!

- hen don’t project your cheating nonsense onto this please

- OMG THE CATFISH EPISODE! Oh yeah everyone just thought he was cheating, omg these buncha HATERS! Nobody would ever cheat on Abby bc she is perfect

- did black people write this? Why would May get twists when her hairs silk pressed? Anyways

- hello mean gay husband, your eyes are such a light brown wow.

- why are these people so chill about cheating. Hen you don’t need to have an existential crisis, just apologize and admit you did something bad

- ABBY! How are you doing girl? Oh she’s gonna travel lots to kinda fulfill her mom’s dream too? SHES BACK TO WORK- Abigail is that healthy?

- this is such a terrifying situation fr like he coulda gotten dissected! This guys’ a freak… but he’s kinda cute

- hi Karen, I’m tired of this too girl. “I love you biiiiitch, I ain’t never gon stop loving you biiitch” ass confrontation

- ABBY! Omg these main character situations are stressing my girl OUT, poor girl. Oh and these women need to stop hurting buck, like I get why but Jesus

- oh fuckkk, being ripped in half is crazy. Oh shitttttt, yeah this is a tough one. The way Bobby’s crawling is so much, he like collapsed in on himself

- ok Athena and bobby moment! OK ATHENA AND BOBBY MOMENT???

- Ayo rebar, bucks so mad wow valid. Chimney is being kind of a jerk, why’s everyone in this house so cool w/ cheating????

- does buck not know what an ip address is

- BOBBY TOOK ATHENA TO CHURCH FOR THE FIRSY DATE??? LITERALLY AND NOT EUPHAMISTICALLY?? Is he well? Not Athena being into this shit puh LEASE

- buck close your damn mouth there are MAGGOTS in the windows. Is buck gonna fight this coroner? Oh ok. Gross. Yeah fuck you coroner guy

- chimney I understand you on a spiritual level

- Abby I understand if this was all too much and you need to break up with buck bc you’d be so valid. Aw man. WAIT SHES LEAVING YES DUBLIN

- I’m realizing that the amount I like Abby might be making me dislike buck a little bit lmao, like that’s MY girlfriend sir

- Abby I will mourn your time on this show

- you know abby gets credit for buck 2.0 or whatever, but buck helped Abby change for the better in a lot of ways too. I don’t think she would have learned to prioritizeherself like this without him

- BOBBY AND ATHENA DATE YIPPEE

- Abby please don’t narrate us out worth Florence and the machine playing rn

- Karen… well I know this doesn’t affect anything again ever so whatever

- so glad chimneys gonna get railed

- ABBY DONT GO, TAKE ME WITH YOU!! WHERES THE ABBY TRAVELLING CRIMFIGHTING SUPERHERO SPIN-OFF! NO GOD WHY DONT TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME WHYYY TAKE BUCK INSTEAD

- can’t even be happy about the bobby and Athena date because I’m crying so hard.

- that was a lie, Athena you look HOT! Bobby, wear tighter pants

- ABBY NOOO, DONT PLAY THE LINE GOING OFF NOOOO and we won’t see her ever again, this city can’t survive without Batman

This episode was fine, but they should’ve focused more on Abby, I think they were trying to do a gentle perspective switch to be more in Bucks pov to really prepare us for her leaving, but i needed to see more of my queen to prepare for her leaving. She didn’t even say bye to Athena! Ig it was a fine conclusion for the first season tho, I’ll collect all my thoughts on this season later after I finish mourning

[indepwom101]

Awww look at the Queen of Thailand's purse! 😍 She's very pretty. I can't wait to see what she wears to the coronation!

https://twitter.com/royalinstablog/status/1654143044801777665/photo/1

I know it adorable! She looks beautiful. I’m excited to see how everyone is going to look on Saturday but tomorrow as well. Tiaras or not everyone will show up in their best for the coronation.

Honestly, I have such a hard time looking at her and seeing the King though knowing what he’s put his past wives, family and children through. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for her daily.

[watchmegetobsessed]

WONDERWALL (part 5)

A/N: aaaand the final part is here! thank you for coming on this royal adventure!!

PAIRING: Royal!Harry X Maid!Reader

WARNING: sexual content

WORD COUNT: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Cassidy is out cold by the time you decide to sneak out. You feel like a silly little teenager, trying to trick her parents and hook up with her crush. Only that your parents are not around, you’re an adult and you have a crush on none other than the future king of the country. It’s a weird situation.

Pulling a hoodie on you tiptoe out of the room, careful not to wake your roommate and then head over to Harry’s room.

It’s been a couple of hours since what happened in the woods so you’ve had some time to think. You couldn’t figure out for sure what Harry’s intentions are, but from the nature of the interaction by that tree you are thinking that it might be just a no strings attached situation. He must be frustrated by his upcoming coronation and becoming a leader and he wants nothing else than just to blow out some steam.

So as you’re nearing his room, walking down the endless hallways of the palace you’re bracing yourself for the possible outcome where Harry asks you to have casual sex with him and nothing more. In the meanwhile, you’re pushing everything into the back of your mind that tells you how badly you want him more than in just a physical way.

As you stand at his closed door you take a few moments to yourself, weighing in on what you’re about to do. If your speculations are right, you’re just about to become friends with benefits with the man who’ll be the king of Eroda in just a little over a week.

Holding your breath you knock on the heavy door and wait for an answer, but instead, it opens and a very much cozy looking Harry appears in front of you. He is wearing sweatpants and a loose, grey t-shirt, appears to be fresh out of the shower, because his curls are damply falling into his forehead.

“Hi,” he breathes out, as if he is surprised you actually came. “Come on in,” he invites you inside holding the door open and you walk in, a sense of intimacy washing over you, standing in his room so late and out of work.

He closes the door and you turn towards each other, a few beats of silence falling upon the room, both of you trying to figure out what to say exactly and at last Harry speaks up first.

“I wanted to kiss you a week ago,” he confesses and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.

“Y-You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a soft chuckle as he starts walking towards you slowly. “I didn’t pull back because I didn’t want to. I just… knew that my actions will have consequences and I didn’t want to pull you into it before I figured out what to do.”

“Consequences?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m about to become king,” he comments with a cheeky smile and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him, but he wasn’t expecting anything else from you.

“Oh really? Haven’t heard about that.”

“On a more serious note,” he clears his throat, trying to contain his grin. “Everything I do is watched by the whole country. I can’t just recklessly do what I want and then move on like nothing happened. I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” you nod, nervously fumbling with your fingers.

“Most people expect me to only get involved with women from class, in fact, Valentina has been fantasizing about marrying me probably since she was eight,” he continues and your throat is going dry, you don’t really like where it’s heading so far, is it gonna be the point where he tells you nothing can happen between the two of you because of who you are?

“Decades ago it would have been the end of my family if I was caught with someone like you.” He is now standing about one step away from you and you pray he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. It’s kind of devastating that he cares about it all and now gonna reject you because of it. That’s not how you got to know him so far.

Reaching up he cups your face in his hands and you want to pull away, but the warmth of his touch is pulling you closer, melting into his palm.

“Good thing we’re not living in those times,” he then adds and your eyes widen in shock. That was a twist for sure. “I’m falling for you, Y/N. Like never before,” he admits and you almost faint. Is this really happening? Did he really just confess that to you? “I never thought that a woman who can piss me off like you can would turn my world upside down,” he chuckles and you break a smile too.

“I’m glad I can do that,” you breathe out.

“You do a lot of things to me, Y/N,” he murmurs leaning closer and teasing you with just nudging your nose with his, but not kissing you yet. “And there’s even more I want to do to you.”

“Do them. All of them, please!” you beg, desperate to feel his lips on yours at this point. Harry’s smirk widens, but still doesn’t kiss you.

“Patience. We still have a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” you breathe out, staring more at his lips than at his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you can sense the change in him in an instant.

“We might not be living in those times but the judgement is still there. People will talk and gossip and say bad things. I don’t want to put you through it without telling you the truth. You have a choice, I don’t. I understand if it’s too much for you.”

“So… what is it exactly we are talking about? The thing between us?” you ask with a shy smile.

“Whatever we want it to be. I already told you I’m falling for you. I want to be with you, get to know you even more and… see what it could be.”

“So you want more than just sex?” you ask bluntly.

“I want you, Y/N. All of you, in any and every possible way,” he answers and a shiver runs down your spine at his words. “I’m using all my self-control to hold myself back right now, especially after having a taste of you already, but I won’t do a thing unless you tell me you want it. That you’re okay with being involved with me.”

“Harry, I’m more than okay,” you breathe out, running short on patience. You want him, more than anything and you’re ready to make sacrifices for him.

“Are you sure?” he hums as he leans so close, his lips are almost brushing against his.

“Completely, please, Harry, just—“ you start to beg, but don’t get to finish before his hungry lips claim yours again, finally.

He is kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, not holding back, his tongue pushing into your mouth right away, he is definitely over holding himself back.

You’re stumbling around in the room until the back of your legs hit the bed and the two of you fall onto the mattress in fits of giggles, but keep kissing, tangled together, rolling around until Harry gets on top of you, his hips pressing against yours and you can already feel him getting hard.

“Harry,” you moan, rolling your hips and he groans against your lips. He feels like a horny teenager again, like he can’t think straight and only wants to get himself buried deep inside you.

He drags his lips down the line of your jaw and the column of your throat while tugging your sweater up on your body along with your shirt underneath, finding a pleasant surprise; you’re wearing no bra.

“Y/N, oh my God I’m fucking crazy about you,” he grunts, tugging the fabrics off of you, leaving you shirtless and your back arches when his lips crash down onto your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth while he gropes your other breast with his hand. Breathing in your scent he feels like he is completely intoxicated and high on you, the best feeling he has ever experienced.

Your greedy hands impatiently fist his shirt as well, ridding him of it soon before he does the same with your pants, leaving you in only your underwear that’s already soaked. Reaching between your legs he swipes two fingers across your clothed pussy, feeling up just how turned on you are.

“This is for me? I made you this wet, huh?” he murmurs, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, his fingers keep moving, feeling you up.

“Yes!” you cry out, wiggling underneath him, desperate to feel more.

Hooking his fingers into the fabric he tugs it down and a moment later you’re lying completely naked on his bed, his lips tasting yours relentlessly with so much hunger. It doesn’t take long for his head to end up between your legs. The sight of him down there, watching you with greedy eyes, you see his back and shoulder muscles move with each movement and you just want to kiss each and every one of them.

He teases you with only kissing the inner side of your thighs, nearing where you need him the most and only allowing his lips on your cunt when you’re on the verge of tears. But then it’s like paradise. He sucks and kisses and uses his fingers to please you, tasting the juice of your pleasure as if it was the sweetest nectar he has ever tasted. One of his hands moves up your body, over your stomach and to your heaving chest and he loves feeling your racing heartbeat under the touch of his palm while he devours you with his mouth.

Though it would be heavenly to come like this, it’s not what you want right now. You want his cock inside you and before that, you want a taste of him as well. Grabbing a handful of his hair you tug him up and he understands the message, moving up he is eager to press his lips to yours and the taste of yourself mixes with your moans before you push him down to the mattress and get on top of him. You kiss your way down his chest, explore the patterns on his soft skin and every time your tongue presses against his hot skin he groans impatiently, his hips buckling up involuntarily.

When you finally reach the elastic of his pants the bulge in it is already impressive and you palm it over the fabric, earning yourself a loud moan and you can’t hold a proud smile back before you hook your fingers into the elastic and pull his pants down along with his underwear, his hard cock springing free in front of you.

Fuck, he is so big, the red tip already leaking and you haven’t even started with him. He watches you intently as you wrap a hand around the base and leaning down you kiss the tip before giving his massive length a lick from bottom to top.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he moans, the muscles in his thighs twitching from the sensation. You place your free hand to his inner thigh, his fingers digging into his flesh as you take him into your mouth and give him a gentle suck before taking several inches of him.

With a hand on the back of your head Harry’s eyes roll back into his head, your name falling from his lips as desperate pleas while you bob your head up and down, forcing yourself to take more and more of him, just the sounds that rip out of his chest are making you feral and obsessed with having him like this; at your mercy and falling apart.

Harry is about to burst in bliss, every time his cock disappears in your mouth he falls for you more and more and harder than ever. And as much as he loves having himself buried in your warm mouth, he wants to feel himself in your pussy already.

He cups your jaw in his hand and pulls you up, you let go of his cock with a pop, your lips are glistening from your saliva and Harry tugs you up, crashing his lips onto yours as he flips you over and onto your back on the mattress, getting on top of you, his hips settling between your legs and you moan loud and shamelessly when the tip of his cock presses against your clit. Harry reaches to the side and blindly tears the drawer of his bedside table open, but you grab his wrist and pull it back.

“I’m on birth control and I really want to feel you raw, please!” you tell him, kissing the corner of his mouth and his answer is a guttural growl before he kisses you hard and reaches down between your naked bodies to position himself to your center.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment probably since the day I first saw you,” he murmurs against your lips and you whimper when he drags the head of his hard cock up and down your pussy, collecting wetness before he pushes just the tip inside. “Are you mine, Y/N? I want you all to myself.”

“I’m yours. All of me, it’s yours,” you gasp as he slowly pushes more and more in until his whole length is buried deep inside you.

“Fuck, say that again!” he begs as he starts moving, in and out, slowly picking up his pace.

“Yours, Harry. I’m yours,” you repeat as you wrap your arms around his torso, your fingers digging into his back muscles.

His arms frame your head and his lips capture yours in messy kisses from time to time as he keeps thrusting in and out of you. It’s everything you ever wanted and needed, you’ve never felt like this before with anyone and if you had an ounce of doubt in you about Harry, now it’s all gone. You want him, in and out, all to yourself and for as long as possible.

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your orgasm builds up and you come screaming his name, but he doesn’t last longer either, his hips falling out of rhythm as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, riding his high to the fullest.

After a few more sloppy thrusts his movements come to a halt, but he remains on top of you. Minutes or maybe hours go by before he rolls off or you, but his arms lock around you in an instant, pulling you against his sweaty body and you gladly melt against him. His lips press against your forehead and when you lift your head to look at him you see his beautiful green irises are filled with joy as he smiles at you.

“Your majesty, you’re a bit possessive, huh?” you tease him with a giggle, referring back to how he demanded you to tell him you’re his.

“As if you didn’t enjoy being labeled as mine. I saw the shine in your eyes,” he grins before craning his neck so his lips could meet yours for a short, chaste kiss.

“I’m yours, but are you mine too?” you ask softly as you cup his cheek in one hand.

“Completely,” he replies without hesitation before he turns his face and kisses into the palm of your hand.

You’re late.

Again.

But this time it’s not entirely your fault.

Running around the room you’re collecting your clothes from here and there, putting them on in a hurry while your hair is still one big mess, bouncing around with every movement. You have about one minute to be down at the morning briefing, but you have no idea where your shoes are. 

“Under the chair, Love,” Harry’s voice snaps you out of your frantic search and your head snaps in his direction. He’s lying in his bed, king sized for a future king, no shirt and you know for a fact that no underwear under the sheets. His arms are tucked under his head as he’s watching you with a smug grin, knowing well that he is the reason you’re late.

You wanted to get up and out of bed in time, but he wouldn’t let go of you, kept stealing kisses until they turned a little more heated which eventually led to some hot morning sex. Not that you’re complaining, but Agnes won’t be glad when you stumble into the briefing late and looking completely unpresentable. 

“Thanks,” you huff and grab your shoes from where he said they were and put them on with one hand while trying to comb through your hair with your other one. 

“Can I get a goodbye kiss?” he asks innocently, but there’s no doubt the moment you’d get into his reach he would pull you back into bed. His morning meeting got canceled yesterday and now he is way too smug about having a few free hours for himself, even though it’s not the case for everyone. 

It’s been two days since Sunday, the turning point. Two blissful days of… whatever it might be that’s going on between you and Harry. Now it seems ridiculous there was a time you thought Harry didn’t want you. Ever since the wall between the two of you broke down he’s been making sure you know just how into you he is. 

“You look stunning today.”

“I love your smile, especially when it’s because of me.”

“I wish I could spend the whole day with you.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until I see you again.”

These are just a few of the things that made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, turning you into a giddy teenager. Every moment you spend apart you ache to know where he is, what he is doing and whether he is thinking about you, but according to him, you’re always on his mind. Which is great, because you can’t stop thinking about him either.

“We both know it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” you tell him with a knowing look as you somehow regulate your hair into a bun. 

“I’m sorry I can’t get enough of you,” he innocently apologizes, but the grin on his face tells you otherwise. 

“Stop trying to get into my panties again!��� you warn him but walk closer to the bed anyway. He scoots to the side as you approach him, but you stop just out of his reach. “Just a kiss, Harry. Seriously, I’m already late.”

“Tell them I needed your immediate help.”

“With what exactly?” you arch an eyebrow, inching closer so now his hand can sneak up your thigh, under your skirt. His smirk widens and he needs no words to let you know his answer. “You’re so needy all the time,” you roll your eyes but lean down anyway, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back right away, one hand remained on your thigh, his fingers gently massaging the muscles while his other one cradles the back of your head, gently pulling you down, keeping you close to stretch the kiss out for as long as possible. 

“I really have to go,” you mumble against his lips and with one last peck, you pull away and head towards the door. 

“The things you do to me!” Harry growls and you just laugh, glancing back at him one last time from the door.

“I didn’t do anything,” you wink at him before walking out and leaving him alone.

The gods had you in their favors. When you finally get to the briefing it hasn’t started yet, someone kept Agnes up so she storms into the room just about five seconds after you and misses how you were totally late.

You ignore Cassidy’s staring, who’s been on your case for a long time now. You haven’t told her exactly what’s been going on between you and Harry, but it’s obvious you can’t hide it much longer. She’s not stupid, she can tell something is up and you hate not telling her the truth.

Through the whole briefing you feel her eyes on you, she knows you didn’t spend the night in the room and you’ll have to come clean. 

For the noon you get signed up for laundry along with Cassidy and two other girls, Krissi and Leah.

“That’s it for today. Report to me when everything is done on your list and we’ll see if there’s anything else to do. Thank you,” Agnes dismisses the group and everyone goes on their merry way. 

“You’re not getting away from telling me everything this time,” Cassidy tells you as you head up to your floor, Krissi and Leah walking a few steps ahead of you. 

“Chill down, I know! But this might not be the right moment,” you whisper back, looking around cautiously. 

“The right moment was about two days ago. I want to know everything!”

Sighing you look around again and make sure no one is listening before you link your arm with Cassidy’s and lean close to keep your voice down.

“I’m… seeing Harry. Like, we’re… we’re a thing.”

“A thing? Like… you’re hooking up?” she whisper-yells with wide eyes.

“It’s more than just hooking up. We’re just gonna see where it’s heading.” You can’t hold a smile back from your lips just thinking about everything that has happened since last Sunday.

“Oh my God, you’re so gone for him!” she gasps. “What is he like in bed? Is he as good as people assume?”

“Cassidy!” you snap at her, feeling your cheeks heating up. 

“Come on, I need a little something!”

Sighing you pull her to the side by one of the windows before you’d turn the corner to the queen’s suit.

“He is… the best. In every way. He is passionate and caring, always makes sure to give just as much as he gets, if not more.”

“Fuck, he sounds like the perfect lover,” she hums dreamily. “You spent every night with him since your little classes?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a giggle. “It’s been hard to keep our hands off of each other.”

“You lucky bitch! You have what the whole kingdom wants! Or at least the women.”

“Shh, keep it down! We don’t want the whole palace to know about it yet,” you shush her. 

“So it’s a secret affair?”

“Well… It wouldn’t be smart to make it so public when we don’t know for sure what it is,” you explain. “It’s a complicated situation and he’s very protective. He danced back before because he didn’t want to bring me into something seriously affecting without thinking it through and having my approval.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet,” she swoons.

“I know,” you sigh with a full heart. 

“Y/N, I’m happy for you,” Cassidy smiles back at you, giving your hand a squeeze. 

Before anyone could pick up what you’re talking about you return to work and don’t mention Harry when anyone is around, especially Leah and Krissi. Laundry work is kind of a neutral task, you collect the dirty ones, bring them to the laundry room, start the machines and bring clean ones. Easy as it is, but it doesn’t need much concentration either and you can’t help but keep thinking about Harry.

You’re falling for him with every passing moment, even when you’re not around him. You’ve never felt like this before, no man was able to sweep you off your feet the way Harry has been doing and you know your feelings are already stronger than you ever felt for anyone else before. 

There aren’t many questions in you about where you want to head with him. You see a future with this man, even with all the obstacles you might have to face for the most human thing to ever exist. 

As if he could feel you thinking about him, your phone buzzes in your dress’ hidden little pocket and when you pull it out you see a message from him.

HARRY: Meet me in my office.

His study room just got finished this weekend and now he has officially taken the spot where his father used to do business. He didn’t say it but it’s obvious it means a lot to him, that it’s an important connection between his father and him. 

“Cass, I’m gonna take a quick break,” you let your friend know. She smiles at you knowingly and nods before you part ways.

Excitement rushes through your veins as you try not to run down the hallways like an excited little kid. Walking past guards and other staff you finally arrive at his study and knocking on the massive doors you wait for an answer from inside.

The door opens as you’re rolling on the ball of your feet and you get pulled into the room before you could even process what’s happening. One of Harry’s arms curls around you to keep you on your feet in the sudden motion, he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, his lips claiming yours in an instant.

“Mm, missed me, huh?” you giggle, returning his hungry kisses. 

“I always miss you when you’re not with me,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your skirt. As much as you would love to take it further, you know you don’t have enough time and it’s risky for you to even be here. So gently pushing him away you pepper his lips with a few more soft kisses and step away from the door. Luckily, he gets the hint and completely understands it. 

The room looks fantastic. It’s spacious, almost every wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with books as thick as your arm, his massive desk situated near the bright windows, allowing the light to hit it perfectly, there is a corner with a sofa and some armchairs and a giant and probably incredibly expensive coffee machine with a set of china next to it. Everything looks so… royal, so impressive, it’s exactly what you’d picture for a king. 

For your king.

“Wow, it looks amazing,” you look around in awe and walking over to the desk you slide your fingers over the shiny surface of it. 

“You like it?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind.

“Yeah, it suits you,” you smile, turning to face him. “Sit there, let me see what you look like doing business,” you giggle, nodding towards the leather seat behind the desk.

He smirks, walking around the desk and you watch him take the seat, leaning onto the top as he watches you. You can’t help but bite into your bottom lip at the sight of him. He’s wearing his usual crispy white shirt, but the sleeves are rolled up, showing off the ink on his skin and the way only one corner of his mouth is curling up is giving you ideas of what you could do that would involve this desk between the two of you. 

“Come ’ere,” he murmurs, leaning back in the seat and you obey without a second thought. He turns away from the desk and spreads his knees so you can stand between them. Reaching out you run a hand through his hair as his palms slip to your waist, tugging you closer, making you almost fall on top of him. 

“You’re being naughty, what if someone comes in?” you warn him, but make no action to put at least some distance between you and him. 

“No one barges in here without knocking first,” he hums and turning his head he kisses your arm, your hand still tangled into his hair. “But if someone did… would it be so bad if they caught us?”

“Weren’t you the one who said we need to think everything through before acting? Getting caught might not be the best way to make it official.”

“Make what official?” he smirks cheekily.

“That… we’re a thing?”

“A thing?” he chuckles. “That’s quite the label.”

“Okay, then what do you want to call it?”

“I want to call you mine.”

“I’m already yours,” you smile at him softly before leaning down you press your lips against his and he returns it eagerly. “And you’re mine, right?” you whisper against his lips.

“Yours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he answers before kissing you passionately.

Though you could stop yourself before, hearing his words you feel your self control vanishing and you want him way more than just moments ago. His hands are exploring your body as he kisses you with intense hunger and you return it just as eagerly, pressing yourself up against him. 

He emerges from his seat without breaking away from you and the next thing you know is that he is helping you up onto the desk, his hips pressing between your open legs. The whole scenario feels like it’s straight out of one of your fantasies, never in a million years you would have thought you’d find yourself in this situation, with none other than the future king of Eroda. Sometimes you still feel like it’s too good to be true. 

Soft moans slip through your parted lips when you involuntarily roll your hips against his, Harry groans against your neck where he is nibbling on the skin, kissing and sucking it, not even caring if he leaves marks behind. He is way too lost in the bliss of having you in his arms. 

“Fuck, Y/N… You’re…” he mumbles before kissing his way back to your mouth.

“I’m what?” you breathe out, your words turning into a moan when his growing erection is pressed against your center.

“You’re everything,” he replies, stealing your next moan as he kisses you so hard you almost fall back on the desk. 

Neither of you are planning to stop, it’s way too heated and you can’t think straight anymore, but when you hear voices coming from outside you jump off the table and Harry moves back, though the state both of you are in and the way your chest is heaving are massive give-aways of what was happening.

The people pass by the door and their voices die down in the hallway, but it was the reminder you needed that it’s not safe to just fall for your desires whenever and wherever. 

“Sorry,” Harry chuckles, running a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath and you feel your cheeks heating up when you see the bulge in his pants. Hopping off the desk you walk past him and stand by the window as you fix your clothes and hair. He completely messed up your apron somehow, so you untie it at the back and try to redo it, though you’re not the best at it, usually Cassidy helps you out.

“Let me do it,” Harry softly murmurs as he steps behind you and takes over the task. He ties it carefully before his hands slip to your waist from behind and he kisses into your neck.

“Don’t start again, your majesty,” you sigh as you turn around in his hold and kiss him gently, careful not to get back to where you were just moments ago. 

“I’m sorry, can’t help it,” he grins, stealing another kiss before forcing himself to let go of you. 

Smiling to yourself you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress and absentmindedly glance out the window, realizing just how sheer the curtains are. The windows are massive and Harry’s desk is dangerously close to them, meaning that if someone was walking by they would easily spot what the two of you were doing. 

Looking around cautiously you don’t see a thing, but there’s an eerie, unsettling feeling in your guts that tells you, you should have been more careful. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks and you tear your gaze away from the view to see him tucking his shirt back into his pants.

“Yeah,” you nod with a faint smile. “I really should go back to work.”

“Can I see you tonight?”

“We’ll see,” you chuckle. Walking over to him you fix his collars before pressing a short kiss to his lips and heading towards the door.

“I’ll be waiting,” he calls after you. Glancing over your shoulder you wink at him before slipping out of the room, hoping no one noticed your rapid visit. 

It’s been a tiring day. Harry’s last meeting has stretched longer than he expected, but it’s been his usual all week. With the coronation coming up on Monday, so in just two short days, his duties are never ending, it seems. 

His study finally empties out as his last guest leaves the palace and thankfully, he is finished for the day. Collapsing into his seat he takes a few moments in the quiet and peace he’s been dreading all day, knowing well it all starts in the morning again.

But it’s what he signed up for. This is what he always knew he would be doing and he loves to serve his country and be a leader, but sometimes he wishes he could just take a day off. 

There’s a knock on the door and he almost groans, but when he calls out and sees his mother walking in he loses his lack of enthusiasm towards his guest.

“Hey,” he breathes out and standing up from his seat he rounds the desk and nods at Anne, inviting her to sit on the sofa.

“Hi, did you just finish for the day?” she asks. This past week the queen has completely given up on her tasks, allowing Harry to take over the lead before his official coronation. That means she hasn’t been attending many meetings along with her son so the two of them didn’t see much of each other. 

“Yeah, finances always take longer than anything else,” he chuckles, as they settle on the sofa. 

“Believe me, I know,” she smirks knowingly. “I wanted to come by and ask how you’ve been. The big day is just around the corner.”

“I’m doing fine. I don’t have much time to not be,” he jokes.

“It’s crazy for now, but you’ll get used to it and also better at it.”

“I know,” he nods. Anne takes a deep breath, taking a look around before her eyes settle over Harry again. 

“I’ve noticed that there’s a little shine in your eyes lately. What do you have to say about that?” she asks and they both know exactly what she’s talking about. 

Anne knows Harry better than anyone and even after spending so much time apart, she can easily spot the slightest change in him right away. She is the biggest expert of Harry Styles.

“Not much. Only that… I’m happy,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Is it because of a particular person?”

“Why do you even ask when you know exactly what the answer will be?” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “It’s because of her. Y/N. I’m… I’m seeing her.”

“So it’s somewhat official?”

“I mean… between us, it is. We haven’t figured out what to do.”

“So you’re planning with her? It’s not just a fling?”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head confidently. “She is… I want to be with her. Always. And I think she feels the same way about me.”

“Well, that’s a great start,” she smiles and Harry feels relief washing over him, even though he knew his mother would support him no matter what. “I assume you don’t have a plan then.”

“That’s the last thing I have,” he admits laughing.

“Alright. Then maybe think about it. So when you’re a little bit less busy you’ll know what to do. I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a situation that might hurt anyone you care about, or what’s worse, hurt you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been so wrapped up in everything and it’s been nice to have something… just for myself.”

“I know and I wish you could keep it that way,” she sighs and reaching over she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “But I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Do you think… Do you think she’ll be attacked if word gets out?”

“As I said before, there is always going to be judgment, no matter what. They won’t see the woman you see when you look at her. They’ll only see a maid who somehow got involved with the royal family and for some standards that’s unacceptable. So you have to brace yourself for the worst case scenario.”

“We’ll think about it and consult with the right people eventually,” Harry nods.

“I know you’ll make the best decisions. You always do,” she smiles before giving his hand another squeeze.

Harry can’t stop thinking about you after that in the sense where he is trying to imagine his life without you. He can’t. The way you’ve made him feel, he’s obsessed and he wants to keep it forever. When he was younger he questioned whether he’d ever find the person he’d want to stay with forever. Who’d make him feel so…

Loved.

And in love. 

Harry loves you, he knows that now. He’s been trying to label his feeling, but because he’s never felt like this before he couldn’t decide what it was. Now he is sure he is in love with you.

That night he is waiting for your arrival impatiently, wanting to see you after a long day spent apart and when you slip into his room he is quick to pull you into his arms and kiss you with all the love he has for you.

“Hello to you too,” you grin against his lips, your arms hugging his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to lessen the height difference between the two of you.

“Hi,” he smiles, resting his forehead against yours. Just looking into his eyes you see the change in him and it worries you for a moment.

“What happened?” you ask, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Nothing, I just… I’m thankful you’re here. With me.”

Smiling warmly at him you kiss his lips before pulling him towards the bed. Despite his words you can tell something is different and you feel like tonight it’s best if you just simply hold each other. Harry curls around you in an instant as you get under the sheets and you wrap your arms around him, his head resting on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat. 

“Are you nervous about monday?” you ask, playing with his curls.

“A little bit, yeah,” he hums. “I just don’t want to trip and fall anytime during the ceremony,” he adds with a chuckle.

“That would be funny,” you grin. “But I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Y/N?” he softly says. 

“Yes, Harry?” you answer and he loves the way you say his name.

“Nothing will change between us, right?” he asks, lifting his head up so he can look into your eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll be the same. I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine, right?”

“We’ll be the same, Harry. No matter what,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

That’s all he wanted to hear, that even in the midst of the craziest time of his life he’ll have you the way he needs you. 

On Sunday you wake up early in the morning and after kissing Harry goodbye several times and successfully peeling yourself out of his needy grip, you return to your room before the morning rush could start in the palace. Cassidy is still asleep, she has about thirty more minutes before her alarm goes off so you make sure to stay quiet for that time. Busying yourself with braiding your hair and scrolling on your phone you kill some time and enjoy the stillness of the early hours.

That is until a knock is heard on the door.

At first you think it’s Harry. Who else would be at your door so early? However as you walk over to the door and open it you’re surprised and kind of shocked to see Agnes. She is not wearing her uniform yet, though her casual attire doesn’t ease the seriousness she always carries in her presence.

“A-Agnes, good morning,” you say, not entirely sure how to act.

“Follow me,” she simply tells you and there’s no place for protest as you follow her down the hallway.

There are a million questions racing in your head but you don’t dare to speak as you head in the direction of Harry’s study and part of you already knows what it’s about, but you ignore it just for a few more seconds before you have to face reality.

As you’re escorted into the room the first person you see is Harry, he is standing behind his desk, leaning onto it, his head hanging low, but as you step inside it lifts and you see his wide, bloodshot eyes and your stomach drops.

Then you see the queen and a few more people who work for the royal family and suddenly you feel like you’re being examined through a microscope.

“G-Good morning, your majesty,” you breathe out, not sure about the etiquette in this odd situation. Harry ignores your confused greeting as he pushes himself away from the table and rounding it you see his pained expression just worsen.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes right away and as he reaches you he takes your hands between his.

“For what exactly?” you ask quietly.

Before anyone could say a word Agnes hands you a copy of the Sunday newspaper and on the very first page you see several pictures of yourself. They were taken through a window and you immediately know when they were taken so you’re not surprised the situations you see your past self in. You’re wearing your uniform and there’s one where you’re standing by the window, Harry right behind you, kissing into your neck as he holds your waist, and then there are the spicy ones, where you’re on the desk and though most of you is hidden behind Harry’s figure, there’s no denying about what was happening.

And then you see the headline: Future king caught hooking up with young maid.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you stare at the pictures. You’re not a PR expert, but it’s obvious the photos are scandalous, the scenario is definitely not one you’d want to portray yourself in as a king. 

“The timing of the publication was definitely set to be right before the coronation, to make it as big as possible,” one of the PR people speaks up, but you zone out on his further words as you open the newspaper and read some lines from the article. Additionally to the front page there are two more whole pages dedicated to the pictures, there are some more of just Harry from previous events and then they somehow got a few of you as well and it makes you realize your Instagram account is completely public. To make it go well with the narrative, they chose older pictures of you where you appear even younger and more inappropriate in age to Harry. 

…The long time bachelor of the royal family seems to be fulfilling his needs with the staff of the palace. According to sources Y/N Y/L/N has been working as a maid for the royal family for the past few years and it seems like lately her duties have been expanded…

…Though the prince���s love life had always been kept private, it appears there’s more hidden than what we were expecting. And after all, we found out that his type is definitely the younger, more naive, classless women. Maybe he has had enough of the high expectations of the ladies in the kingdom and seeked something easier…

You hear more and more talking around you but all you can focus on is the article that keeps going on and on about how you’re just some nobody, a toy Harry likes to play with because you’re just an easy hook up, a temporary fix for his needs. It’s everything you feared from the first moment.

“We need to act right now or don’t do anything,” you hear the queen talk firmly. “We don’t have much left before hell breaks loose online, we need to have a plan.”

“We’re suing them, right?” Harry asks, one hand on your lower back while you just stand there, with the paper in your hand, your anxiety growing with each passing second. “Those pictures were taken on the property of the palace where they are not allowed.”

“Security issues are already being checked out to see how it could happen and our legal team is working on pressing charges. But that doesn’t make the story disappear,” the PR person says.

The discussion carries on and you feel like you’re not even there, like you’re just a ghost with nothing to add, nothing helpful and it’s starting to feel too much all at once.

“Excuse me,” you breathe out under your breath and you’re not sure anyone even heard you. Harry notices as you move towards the door and he calls after you, but you’re out of the room fast, running down the hallway and away from the issues that fell on your shoulders all of a sudden. 

You know exactly where you’re going, to the place where you can be alone and have a breather from everything to think it all through. To the lake. 

Harry tries to go after you, but he is held back, however he knows exactly where he needs to be also. With you.

“Your majesty, we need to take the matter in our hands, every minute matters,” the PR guy reminds him, but Harry is quick to shut him down.

“Do whatever you want. I trust you with the matter, but I need to make sure she is alright, understood?”

They want to protest, but Anne is the first one to speak up.

“I’ll take care of it. You go and do whatever you need to do,” she tells Harry and he looks back at her with appreciation before leaving the room to go after you. 

By the time he frees himself you’re nowhere in sight, but he knows exactly where must have gone and he wastes no time running after you. To get there quicker he decides to take Ladybug out, heading to the lake in the woods. 

You reach the water completely out of breath, but it’s not only because of the running, it’s also because of the panic attack you’ve been dealing with ever since you saw that newspaper. You should have seen it coming, that no matter what people would find the worst in you and pick you apart. You’ll always be the naive young girl, a little nobody next to the king of Eroda.

What if Harry sees you that way too? What if you really are just an easy, temporary fix until he finds someone with class to marry and be picture perfect with? You feel stupid for thinking he’d ever choose you, that he’d put himself through all of this for being with you. 

“Fuck,” you gasp as you sit down by the water, onto the pebbled ground and just stare out ahead of you, tears dwelling in your eyes. It’s so early in the morning, you’re wearing the clothes you slept in, but you think about just walking into the water and submerging to feel isolated from everything.

However you don’t stay alone for long. You hear Ladybug’s galloping before you spot her with Harry. Wiping your cheeks from the tears you jump to your feet just as Harry climbs off of Ladybug, rushing up to you, cradling your face in his hands as he looks down at you with eyes full of worry.

“Y/N, why did you run away?” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just… It was too much at once so I wanted to think, but I’m so sorry for everything, Harry!”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, it wasn’t your fault!”

“But you’re being roasted because of me, because of my lack of status and class and it’s ruining your coronation, your big day!”

“Y/N stop, this is none of your fault!” he begs you, desperate to make you understand he doesn’t blame a thing on you. 

“I-I’m sorry… It’s so… It’s okay if you want to end it, I would understand,” you whisper, your throat closing up as you’re fighting your tears back even harder, but you’re losing this battle. 

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts in a firm tone, still holding your face in his hands, his eyes focused on yours. “You rewrote my whole universe the moment I laid my eyes on you. Everything has been about you since then, every decision I make, every thought I have, every breath I take is to spend another moment with you even when things seem to be turning against us. There’s nothing that could change the way I feel about you. Absolutely nothing, do you understand me?”

Not trusting your voice all you can do is nod, your hands finding his waist as you push yourself closer to him, wanting to feel him. He rests his forehead against yours before speaking up again. 

“Nothing they wrote in that article is true. You’re not just a hookup or a momentary adventure. I want to plan a future with you, Y/N. Forever or for as long as you’ll have me. Every moment I have with you is a gift to me, because… because I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his words and for a moment you think your knees will give up underneath you, but you manage to stay on your feet. It was unexpected and shocking, especially after the whirlwind of thoughts you just had a couple of minutes ago about him. 

But one thing is for sure.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your hands fisting his shirt as you press up against him and your lips find his in an instant. 

He kisses you back as if he was saying the words over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you, his lips tell you in a different way than the first time, but you understand the words clear as daylight. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the taste of his lips, but they are a different kind now, you feel full and happy and most importantly, loved. 

“Aren’t you needed back there to discuss the situation?” you ask when your kisses slow down, but you’re still tangled in each other, neither of you are willing to let go just yet. 

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he smiles before kissing you again. 

The two of you ride back to the palace on Ladybug, you practically melt against Harry, completely forgetting about the rest of the world or the fact that you’re sitting on a horse again. He walks Ladybug back into her box and then takes your hand as you head back to his study to face reality. 

No one comments on your disappearance and most importantly on the way Harry doesn’t let go of you, not even for just a moment. You sit in silence and listen to the conversation intently as a plan is formed. Before the clock hits eleven a statement will be released that the photos were taken on private property and the person who took them violated the law. Legal steps will be taken and the pictures will be deleted from every media outlet. No further statement will be forwarded, no explanation, no comment. The two of you are required to stay silent about the matter at least until after the coronation.

“And what about after? They won’t just let it die down, will they?” you ask Harry quietly so only he can hear your words.

“We’ll figure it out. We’re gonna have to come forward at one point and give out our own narrative.”

Nodding you just nervously chew on your bottom lip until Harry reaches up and pulls it out from between your teeth.

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Just… talk to me. We can never speak of it in public, if that’s what you want.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you say with a bitter smile. “But I’m okay with… whatever is needed to be done. I just don’t want to make you appear in a bad light,” you admit. “Being seen with me looks to be quite damaging and I understand if you don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Y/N, that’s not happening,” he smiles at you gently. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.”

“I believe you,” you smile back and steal a quick kiss.

The rest of the day is filled with damage control. The royal legal team is nonstop working on getting a hold of the case and making every photo disappear from the internet, though everyone knows that’s basically impossible. 

You stay with Harry for most of it, because one, you kind of want to hear every detail so you know what’s exactly going on. And two, because being with Harry is the only thing that keeps you sane for now. 

When the end of the day finally comes you feel dreaded and want nothing else than to just sleep. You’re walking out of Harry’s study after one last meeting with the legal team and Harry is pulling you towards his room, but you stop him.

“Maybe we should spend tonight apart,” you suggest, exhaling shakily. 

“What? Why?” he asks and you almost regret your suggestion seeing the panic in his eyes.

“It’s just that tomorrow is your big day, it’ll be busy enough without me being around. With the whole situation… maybe it’s best if we’re not seen together for now.”

Harry wants to protest, to tell you he wants you around him all the time but what you said was rational. It’s what you agreed to do and his day will be documented top to bottom tomorrow, so it’s better if you’re not around, just to keep yourself to the plan. But that doesn’t change the way he feels about you and how he wants you to be around all the time.

“When will I see you tomorrow then?”

“Um, I’ll be working, probably just in the kitchen so I’m not out in the front,” you add with a bitter chuckle. “But… let me know when the craziness is over and we’ll see, okay?”

“At least come to the ball in the evening. Are you working then as well?”

“No I’m not… but maybe it’s not the best decision to show up there.”

You can tell the rejection pains him and you hate that you make him feel like this, but today has been fucked up enough. As much as you need Harry by your side you also know you need some alone time to think everything through.

“Alright,” he nods, clearing his throat. Pulling you into his arms he kisses you without even looking around, checking if anyone is around. You melt into his embrace and kiss him back before he just simply rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile back at him, pecking his lips one last time before parting ways.

It feels like everything crashes down on you again once you return to your room. Cassidy is there, watching your every step as you practically fall into bed with the loudest groan that has ever been heard from you.

“So, are you alright?” she asks, rolling to the edge of her bed.

“I kind of want to die, thanks for asking,” you mumble into the pillow. 

“What’s the plan? I read the statement about the legal steps, but nothing about the two of you.”

Sighing you lift your head and push yourself up into a sitting position, crossing your legs as you look at your roommate.

“There won’t be anything for a while. We need the coronation to happen and then we’re addressing the situation.”

“So what, you’re gonna hide until then?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Kind of,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“And you’re okay with that? Most importantly, is Harry okay with that?”

“I understand it. I’m not quite the best person to get involved in for a royal, don’t you think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she scoffs. “No one is better than anyone just because of a stupid title, I thought you know that better than anyone. Why should you hide for literally the most mundane thing to ever exist? For being with someone? Does Harry want to hide you as well?”

“No… not really,” you admit.

“Thank God!”

“He wants me to go to the coronation ball tomorrow.”

“And you’re going, right?”

“I said I wouldn’t…”

“Y/N, you will not just hide in a corner until they let you make an appearance. Harry wants you there, it’s his and your decision, no one else’s. I say you go there, show up looking like a fucking goddess and make everyone regret all the bullshit they said about you!”

You blink back at her at a complete loss of words. You weren’t expecting a speech like this, especially not from her, but it definitely got the message through.

It’s mostly your own inner fears that are messing with your head. Harry made it clear he is not ashamed to be seen with you, he is planning a future with you and that’s exactly how you feel too. Then why should you let stupid, ignorant people decide how you live your life? You want to be there with Harry, support him and be part of the day that changes his whole life. 

And no one can take that away from you.

At ten in the morning the next day, Harry officially becomes king of Eroda as the crown is placed on his head in St. Carolina Cathedral.

Just like everyone in the kingdom who is not present at the ceremony, you watch it through a live stream while working in the kitchen. Your chest fills with pride and joy as Harry is introduced as King of Eroda to the crowd, waving and smiling and you wish you could be there to witness it with your own eyes and not just through a screen.

The palace has been buzzing since early in the morning, the works for the big day seemingly never ending. When one thing is done there comes the next, there’s just no stopping. 

Originally your shift should end at three, which leaves you just enough time to get ready for the coronation ball. However just five minutes before you are about to be off the clock Agnes comes up to you in a rush.

“Y/N, can you maybe take a few more hours of kitchen service?” she asks with her usual clipboard in her hands that definitely has a lot more papers clipped than on a normal day.

“Oh, I kind of…” you exhale, not sure whether you should come clean about your plans or tell her a lie. At last you realize you’re done hiding and it should start now. “I’m planning to attend the ball, Agnes. I can’t stay any longer.”

She examines you with a straight face and you’re convinced she is about to tell you how stupid of an idea it is, to go against the plan, but at last you see the tiniest smile turning the corners of her mouth upwards.

“You better look flawless, Y/N,” she tells you before rushing off to find a substitute. 

The crown feels heavier than he expected, Harry thinks as he takes a look at himself in the mirror. He has just changed from his traditional suit he wore for the ceremony into a more conservative one for the ball, but with the crown on his head it would be hard to lose him in a crowd. All eyes are about to be on him again as he walks into the ballroom and dances with his mother to open the event.

Everything has been going perfectly, there was no mishap, no sudden issues, almost too perfect, if you ask him. But of course, above all the good he knew something was off all day.

He missed having you around. 

He was really counting on sharing the night with you, but he didn’t want to press it after your suggestion. Waking up alone was disappointing and he hasn’t seen you all day either. Now the ball is about to start and you told him you wouldn’t be there. He has to go through the whole evening hoping to finally see you and hold you in his arms, that’s all he wants now.

There’s a knock on the door and as he calls out Anne walks in, wearing her ball gown, a black and golden piece that suits the occasion perfectly. She walks over to him with a proud smile to fix his collar even though it looks spotless.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?” she asks, brushing her hands over his shoulder gently.

“I know. And thank you for all the support you gave me,” he nods before pulling her into a hug she’s been dreading, but held herself back not sure if he’d be happy about it.

“I’ll always be by your side,” she smiles, squeezing him to herself. “Alright. Ready to make your first appearance?” 

“I guess I am,” he chuckles as the two of them head out.

The ballroom is filled with lords and ladies, tonight is an occasion no one wanted to miss, of course. The trumpets go off as Anne appears on the top of the stairs and walks down gracefully, for the first time as not the queen. When she reaches the end of the stairs she steps aside, the trumpets start playing again and Harry finally steps out, taking a moment to look around in the room while the crowd cheers for him.

He walks down the stairs, just like his mother did only moments ago and the trumpets turn into music with a whole band and when he reaches the bottom he holds out his hand for Anne for their dance. 

As they twirl to the middle of the room all he can think about is you and what you taught him about dancing. His posture, his movements, everything is resonating back at your work and the time the two of you spent together at your classes and his thoughts return to missing you once again. 

While the two of them are dancing perfectly, at the back of the room the crowd starts to whisper and look around, even part as if someone more important than the king showed up.

It’s you.

You didn’t intend to stop the whole show with your arrival but as soon as people recognized you, it got out of hand. Wearing a simple, but elegant royal blue dress you only wanted to make your appearance known after Harry and Anne’s dance, but the crowd thought otherwise.

It gets to the point where Harry notices that something is happening, his gaze trying to spot what’s causing the scene and then he sees you.

The crowd of guests part until you’re fully visible to Harry as well and you’re obviously in the center of the attention now. Harry stops dancing, unable to look away from you while you look back at you a little uncertain and afraid that he might be mad at you for showing up after all. 

He feels none of that, more like the opposite. He can’t believe you’re here, looking like a dream.

Anne squeezes his hand to grab his attention.

“Go, ask her to dance,” she smiles before slipping out of his arms.

Harry turns to face you and then walks up to you as every guest is waiting to see what’s about to happen. He stops right in front of you and takes his time to run his gaze up and down your appearance.

“Hi,” he then smiles at you, barely able to control his emotions.

“Hi. I just… I don’t want to hide. So if you’re okay with it—“

“Can I have a dance, Miss Y/L/N?” he asks with a wide grin as he holds his hand out for you, ignoring your rambling but also giving you an answer at the same time.

Relief washes over you and you could cry from happiness as you take his hand and he leads you to the middle of the room, pulling you into his arms, every pair of eyes glued to you but you only see the man in front of you.

You start dancing, just like before at your classes only that now the whole kingdom can see you and by the morning there will be no question that you and Harry are more than just a fling even though you didn’t say a word.

“When I first saw you at the lake a month ago I didn’t know you’d become my wonderwall,” Harry admits as the two of you sway to the music.

“Your wonderwall? What does that mean?” you ask.

“Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infatuated with,” he explains as you listen to him smiling to yourself. “That’s what you are. My wonderwall, my love, my queen…” he lists, his eyes keeping yours in lock and he stops before continuing. “And one day I’ll make you Eroda’s queen,” he adds and without a care in the word, he leans down and kisses you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[aciid-eater]

“Touching you” Harry Hook soulmate AU/xreader part 2

Summary: In a world where you’re connected to your soulmate by thought, a young villain and a young girl are brought together by unique circumstances.

__________________________________________

“And next we have Ms soon-to-be crowned sultan of Agrabah, y/n!” The announcer at Ben’s coronation moved with pep as she approached y/n’s entry carriage to interview her.

On the isle, Harry slid up next to uma, pushing gil out of the way so he could finally get his first look at the girl he had been talking to for years.

“She left home not too long ago to attend auradon prep to further prepare, how’s that going for you?” She asked, holding the mic to y/n’s mouth.

“Quite well actually. My people should be assured that good things are coming.” y/n replied, smiling into the live feed camera.

“I’m sure! You and that soulmate of yours will do great! Have you met him yet?” Y/n masked her uneasiness well when she answered.

“Not in person, but i have no doubt that the media will just eat him up.” She laughed.

“And finally, do you have any words for anyone watching at home?”

Y/n looked into the camera once again, clad out in a silk blue dress that fitted form around the bust and flowed out further down the skirt, she batted her eyelashes she gave an innocent expression.

“Hi darling.” she waved softly.

As soon as the camera was off of her, Harry’s thoughts were the first thing she heard.

“Yer’ so beautiful.”

“Why thank you Harry”

“Im feigning to touch ye’.” She let out a bark of a laugh in her carriage.

“How forward of you, you haven’t even taken me to dinner first.”

“Ye’ know what i meant.” he huffed.

“i know. I wish you were here. We’d be quite the pair.”

“Why so sure?”

“Because i’ve seen the outfits you kids from the isle wear, and it’s right up my alley.”

“Just ye’ wait til’ fate brings us together, I’m quite the handsome devil i would say.” Y/n let out another laugh, earning a stern look from her mother.

“I’m sure you are, and i can’t wait to see.”

__________________________________________

And for months, the two waited, and waited, and waited, until.

“Mal’s gone back to the isle.”

Y/n’s head whipped around to Evie, showing nothing but shock to her statement.

“This is all my fault! We have to go find her.” Ben said, standing from his seat.

“I’m coming too.” Y/n said firmly.

“No. The isle is dangerous y/n.” Ben shot down quickly.

“You listen here.” she said, pointing a finger in his direction.

“Ben I HAVE to go with you. I’m not asking. This is serious.”

The king sighed, running his hand through his brown locs.

“I mean, she does dress the part.” Evie chimed in.

“Fine.”

__________________________________________

The entire ride to the isle, y/n ignored all of Harry’s attempts to talk to her. She wanted it to be some what of a surprise when she arrived.

She followed Jay, Evie, Carlos and Ben through a narrow musty alley way as they explained to the king how to fit it. She couldn’t help but noticed the conditions on the isle were somehow worse than what Harry had described to her all those years.

“Where are you?” She asked suddenly.

“Eh? On the isle...?” Harry responded, the confused tone evident in his voice.

“ Where on the isle? Give me land marks.”

“......Near the entrance, 20 paces past ye’ old carpet stand and down the alleyway to hell hall.”

Looking up, she scanned the area, up above her there was a shop sign for the carpet vendor, and just under it was a street sign for hell hall.

“E.” Y/n said suddenly. She pulled Evie to the side, letting the boys walk on.

“E, i have to go.”

“He’s here?” Evie held a small smile.

“This might be my only chance E, i have to go now.” Evie held the girl’s hands to her chest.

“I can’t stop you, even i know the magic of soulmates is irrefutable. Please be careful. We’re not leaving the isle without you.”

“I won’t be long.”

__________________________________________

“I don’t know what you look like.” Y/n thought, standing in the middle of a moderately busy intersection. She continued to people watch, looking for anyone that could possibly be captain hook’s son.

Suddenly there was a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was met eye level with a broad chest. Looking up, she locked gaze with beautiful blue eyes that were shadowed in eyeliner. He had tossed black hair under a pirate hat and a silver hook over his hand.

Y/n was struck still, her breath hitched in her throat. She exhaled softly when the sharp point of his hook trailed up her jaw. His other hand grabbed her waist, pulling her to him and ushering her hand up onto his chest. He leaned close, lips brushing against her ear.

“Yer’ even more beautiful in person, Princess.” He mumbled.

His heart fluttered when she let out a breathy laugh. One laugh turned to a mountain of joyful giggles as he swept to the side, into an alley, and out of sight.

“Harry.” She held his face in her palms, tears brimming her eyes.

“Don’t cry.” He mumbled, wiping her stray tears with his thumb. He placed a small kiss on her cheek, then he grabbed her chin, turned her face, and mirrored it on the other side.

She breathed a sigh of content as he softly pushed her against the alley wall. He peppered kisses all around her face, his hands wandering up and down her body.

“How much time do we have? How much longer can i spend with ye?” He mumbled, his thumb tracing the side of her face.

“Not long, I need to go back in a little bit.” She responded sadly.

“I promise you, i’m trying really hard to get you to Auradon.” She mumbled, leaning her head onto his chest. Surprisingly, he smelled good, not like any perfume, but more like a sweet musk.

“What if i never make it there?” He asked, cradling the back of her head.

“Then i’ll come here.”

“No. I’m not letting ye’ live here in this dump.”

“It’ll be worth it, if i’m with you. Besides I think i’d make quite the dashing pirate.” She smirked, snatching the hat off harry’s head and placing it on her own. Harry let out a low chuckle while she stroked stereotypical pirate poses.

He couldn’t dream of spending the rest of his life in the isle, it was one of many reasons why he stuck with Uma. She was his only chance of having a life with his soulmate.

“You’d be the most beautiful lassy on board.” He smirked.

“Y/n!” The two teens perked up at the sound of y/n’s name being called down the intersecting alley.

“I guess this is me.” She said softly, pulling Harry’s hat from her head.

“Keep it.” He said, pushing her outstretched hand back in her direction. “I’ll get it back another time.”

Y/n let out a sad breath of a laugh. Placing her hand on the pirates chest, she leaned up to press her lips to his cheek.

“Stay safe, Darling.” And before he knew it, she was gone.

[bluenpjm]

the kang code ✹ 3 — knj x oc

© bluenpjm | all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own.

synopsis. when you can’t trust your instincts anymore, what do you turn to? 

genre. murder au + detective namjoon + angst + fluff 

pairing. knj + oc 

rating. M

wordcount. 2.1K

warnings. there’s a killer on the loose and he’s about to make a mess! 

chapters. previous — three — next // new chapters every day at 00:00 KST

May 9th, 2022.

Hyori was lying. She lied to Seokjin. And then she lied to me. The coroner had just finished the autopsy when Seokjin was interviewing her and it was impossible for her to hear a scream. The girls were already dead when they were dropped in the alleys. She never heard a scream. So, what was she doing there? 

I haven’t told Seokjin about us- about my connecting with her. I know I should have. 

I don’t know what to do.

Namjoon looks at the watch on his wrist as he sits on a bench just a few meters away from the entrance of the suspect’s apartment. His eyes are heavy. He had managed to get only a couple of hours of sleep. 

The door of the building he had been watching finally swings open, and the person he had been anticipating seeing for at least the last half hour finally appears. 

Hyori walks at a quick pace and Namjoon forces his legs to move, trying not to lose sight of her. 

Seokjin had insisted that Namjoon should be the one keeping an eye out on the woman who had quickly become the number one suspect in the Kang case. All her lies, including the ones Seokjin was clueless about, had made her a person of interest, climbing right to the top of the list. And as such, she had to be watched. 

The killer hadn't delivered any more clues, nor had any more bodies appeared. Namjoon was nervous about that. The killer had presented himself to be careless, impulsive — most likely used to acting upon instinct during most of his life. This sudden stop was killing Namjoon. The waiting… Namjoon was usually patient — more than most people — but this… it felt too close to home. It was as if he was already too invested with the case. And he wanted to solve it as quickly as he possibly could. 

Hyori is small but surprisingly fast. Namjoon is having a hard time keeping up with her. The streets are busy and most people meander, drunk on sleep, as it seems to be too early to even try to be happy, making Namjoon easily left behind, as Hyori seems nothing like the ones around her. 

Stopping a couple of stores down, Namjoon notices Hyori make her first stop of the day. A small café. And it doesn’t take her long to come out, hand finding the strap of her mask to remove it and take a sip of the liquid on the cardboard cup she carries. 

She resumes her walk, this time at a much moderate pace. The tote bag she carries keeps falling from her shoulder and he notices how quick she is to switch it to her hands. Practical. 

Noticing a bus stop reaching, Namjoon slows his pace a bit more, the possibility to be caught seeming terrible at this time of the day. He hadn’t gotten up this early to go right back to the station empty-handed.

Hyori sits down. So, she takes the bus to work. Namjoon makes the mental note. He has his notebook stuffed into his bag but prefers to keep commenting on what he’s observing to himself. Adjusting his mask and cap, he hopes to remain as invisible as possible, the simple possibility of the woman laying her eyes on him now that they have both stopped makes the palms of his hands' sweat. He had never really appreciated this part of his job. 

“Oh, no, please! I insist!” 

Namjoon’s thoughts are interrupted by the sudden soft voice of Hyori as she stands up from the bus bench to offer it to an older woman. Underneath the mask she wears, Namjoon can see a soft shade of red begin to adorn her cheeks. There is a little back and forth between the woman he has been watching and the old lady that had just arrived at the scene, the latter refusing to accept the seat and the youngest standing her ground. Eventually, the lady takes the seat, many thanks falling from her lips as Hyori keeps bowing, eyes smiling. 

The bus arrives and Namjoon is the last one to enter. By then, Hyori had already taken her seat, eyes glued to her phone and headphones in. Namjoon can breathe with ease as he sits a couple of rows behind the girl. 

As the bus comes to a halt just a couple of minutes before 8 AM, Namjoon has to rush after Hyori as she makes her way to work. She stops just outside a big building, windows for walls as the sun shines on the glass, illuminating the entire street. He watches as she quickly fixes her outfit, taking the opportunity to catch her breath before going inside. 

Deep down, Namjoon finds all of this useless. Hell, he was never one to trust his gut feeling over all the concrete evidence he had. And if he had to be completely honest, Hyori was conveniently placed in all of this. Still, something inside him screamed that he was chasing her for the wrong reasons. 

Across the street, he spots a bench, placed perfectly so that he could watch the main entrance of the building without being too suspicious. He had nothing but time to think of the case and to think of the woman that had been making him slowly go insane, unable to sleep properly as she kept on crossing his mind. Taking his notebook out, he begins to brainstorm all the details he has about the case so far. The coroner’s report brings new light and he hopes that by lunchtime, he will have an idea of what to do.

“Sir,” 

A boy comes rushing, stopping right next to Namjoon, and hands him a crumpled piece of paper. And just as quickly as he was there, Namjoon watches as he runs. As an instinct, he gets up, mind trying to decide if it would be more important to catch the teen or see the content of the paper he had messily handed to him.

“HEY! KID!” Namjoon screams, but he’s long gone. “Fuck!” 

He sighs, hands finding a place at his hips. His tongue clicks and he figures he might as well look at the paper. Turning his back on the building, he unfolds the crumbled piece, trying not to damage it. 

Taking his pen out, Namjoon is quick to solve the code, now familiarized with the killer’s way of writing. His heart begins to beat as he reads the message out loud. 

You are so easy to find. Are you taking the right steps? Think again, pig. No one is safe. Tic toc… 

“You… find… the… right… steps… tic… toc…” He whispers under his breath. 

His heart begins racing and he stands up high, breath shallow as he looks around. No one stands out, but his head is still spinning. This entire time, he was being watched. And he had no clue. 

“Are you lost?” A voice makes Namjoon jump and he turns quickly. 

“Hyori!” His voice trembles. “What are you doing here?” 

“I work just across the street.” The woman tilts her head towards the big building Namjoon had had his eyes on for the past 4 hours. He had been so engrossed with it he had forgotten to beware of his surroundings. 

“Oh, I see.” Namjoon eyes the building, head continuously nodding in a slow movement. 

“Do you need to go anywhere? I’m on my lunch break but I can take you if it’s close by.” She smiles gently. 

“No, no. It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to keep you.” Namjoon reassures. It might be best if she keeps a safe distance from me, he thinks.

“Are you working on the case?” Hyori eyes him suspiciously as she notices him looking around, paper sloppily folded in hand. He grabs it so tightly that his thumb has started to lose color, now looking a faint white. “I won’t pry.” 

“Yeah- I can’t really talk about it.” He finally looks at her, his eyes meeting her expectant ones. He feels at ease once again. “Sorry.” 

She chuckles at his apology. As if one was needed. “It’s okay. Have you eaten yet?” 

“Actually, no.” 

“There’s this place just a couple of streets down. It has the best fried chicken I’ve ever eaten.” She balances from one foot to the other. At the lack of response from him, she continues. “I was thinking of eating there.”

Namjoon looks around one last time. The boy that had handed him the paper was long gone and it would be impossible for him to identify the real killer with all these people around. Except… “Can I join you?” He asks, now smiling at the woman. 

“Sure!” 

They walk quietly, Hyori enjoying the fresh breeze that runs in the air. Her hair floats and Namjoon notices as she continuously keeps pushing the same strand of hair behind her ear. She puffs, arms shooting to the front of her body as she checks her wrists. 

“Do you need a rubber band?” Namjoon lifts his sleeve up, taking the elastic from his wrist and handing it to the woman. 

“Thank you!” She smiles politely, eyes quickly scanning the rubber band. It’s a simple, black band and it looks as good as new. There are some fissures on it, but it wouldn’t be from the weight of the hair. 

Namjoon watches as she makes a messy ponytail, just glad that she was able to take the hair from her face. “You look nice like that.” 

“You think?” Hyori lets out a giggle, embarrassed by the sudden compliment but even more by noticing how red the detective’s cheeks had gotten. 

He nods, a dimple appearing on his cheek. Hyori finds him absolutely adorable. How a man so big and strong is able to sound so soft. 

Yet again, Namjoon watches Hyori, this time from the building he had earlier that day seen her enter to what he believes to be the way back to her house. She doesn’t rush home this time around, walking slowly instead. She’s different from every single person around her, he notes. 

Hyori takes a stroll around the park Namjoon had been sitting in. He has to hide behind a tree when she abruptly stops. He watches as she kneels on the floor, hand stuffed into her bag for a moment. She approaches the pound and unravels what she had fetched from inside the tote. The ducks that had been swimming nearby quickly approach and delight in the crumbs of bread she offers them. 

She sticks around for some time, just enjoying the company of the birds. Snapping some pictures of the scenery she finds herself in, she begins to walk again. Namjoon can’t help but fight the urge he has of joining her. He could see himself mimicking her actions if he had been in Seoul, enjoying a day off from work. 

She doesn’t stop at the bus stop. Instead, she keeps walking. Is she taking the long way home? Namjoon ponders. He was already feeling tired, the muscles of his legs asking for some rest. But Hyori walks swiftly to the sound of the melody playing in her headphones. Until she stops abruptly, eyes fixated on her screen. 

The sun was setting and there were fewer and fewer people out on the streets. The paths Hyori takes divert further away from the main road until they are in walking through alleys, not a soul to be seen. Namjoon finds it more difficult to find places to hide. With no one in sight, he was sure to be spotted and scare the girl away. 

Standing behind so he can remain hidden, Namjoon loses sight of Hyori for a couple of seconds. He decides it is time to move again, stealthily walking at a rushed pace. He peaks his head at the corner, Hyori already far off. She’s walking faster now, her tote bag already hanging low on her arm. She keeps on looking at each of her sides. Something’s off, Namjoon can feel it. 

Something cold hits Namjoon’s head and the last thing he sees is a black van pulling up just down the alley and Hyori trying to run the opposite way. He wants to cry out for her to run but finds himself as a mere spectator, his body now lying on the floor, head pounding with the pain. 

A man leaves the van, grabbing Hyori and pushing her inside before driving off. 

It takes Namjoon forever before he gets his senses back. As he opens his eyes, he’s still lying on the cold floor. His hand reaches for the back of his head, feeling the somewhat dry blood already mixing up with his hair. 

He sits up, looking around him. It’s dark. The sun has already set and he feels disoriented. 

“Hyori…” He murmurs, suddenly being hit with the memories of what had happened a couple of hours ago. 

[ chapter four ]

[yutafrita]

Under the Blue Flames- Nine

"There is no blue without yellow and without orange." - Vincent Van Gogh

Pairing: Vampire!Yuta x Reader

Y/N Pronouns: She/Her

Genre: Fantasy au, Supernatural nct, sometimes college au, sometimes magical school au, angst, fluff

Chapter Word Count: 7.8K

Catch up on previous chapters here

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, graphic depictions of violence, blood, religious references and imagery, secondary character death (butipromisetheendingishappyiswear)

Tag List! @kodasity @hope-lovelle @ygimsgw​ @nini0620​

Chapter Nine

You sat in your family living room, watching your Dad pace around as he tried to articulate whatever he was thinking. Taeyeon sat next to you, aggressively writing down notes to herself and texting people. She would normally have the winter break off, but with the coronation she had agreed to be paid overtime in exchange for helping out.

“Are you either of you going to tell me why you called me here? I kind of have stuff to do today,” you finally interjected. 

You were finally going to get a dress- the day before the coronation- when your Dad called you in a panic to go over to the house as soon as possible. You borrowed Mark’s car, and within thirty minutes you were in your living room, waiting for someone to talk to you.

“There’s a tradition sweetie that, to be honest, I think most people expected to not happen for several reasons,” your dad rambled, adjusting his tie now to stop himself from pacing.

“Okay?”

“Spit it out, Lee,” Taeyeon muttered, looking up for a moment from her clipboard. 

Sighing, your father cleared his throat. “Yuta’s Mother is on her way here to deliver what you’ll be wearing to the coronation.” 

“Huh?” you shouted, stepping up from the couch and hoping that your father was just kidding.

“Traditionally, the mother or father of the soon to be ruler would personally deliver the garments the person betrothed to their child would wear,” Taeyeon helped clarify, glaring at your father for his horrible delivery. “I don’t think anyone expected this for… several reasons.”

“Yeah like the fact that my kid is not engaged, she’s not a mythic, and his mother is a nightmare,” your Dad cut in, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Oh god I can’t see her again,” you panicked, feeling your blood instinctually start to boil at the thought of his mother. The anger you felt with her last time triggered your powers- you feared what having to see her again in such close quarters would do.

“You’re going to be fine, but gosh could you cover that bandaid on your neck? It looks abysmal,” Taeyeon went to get a better look at the bandaid on your neck that covered Yuta’s bite mark and you instinctively moved away from her.

“How did you even get hurt on your neck? Was it Sicheng? I told Yuta that was a stupid idea,” your Dad blathered.

“No, it wasn’t Sicheng, it was just an accident. Can we please focus on the matter at hand?” you plead, hoping they wouldn’t notice the embarrassed blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“If you refuse to see her and refuse to accept her dress, it will not be good,” Taeyeon noted, frowning. “As horrific as she is, at the end of the day, this is a way to help bring humans and mythics together… a small, tiny way. Plus, the council will know and make Yuta’s job difficult if you don’t wear it.”

“She isn’t obligated to do anything,” your father huffed, tugging at his tie. Rubbing your temples, you sighed. You were placed in a position that Yuta’s mother had to love- damned if you did, and damned if you don’t. 

“How long until she gets here?” you asked, standing up to start going through the clothes in your old closet. Taeyeon glanced down at her phone.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Can you make me look not horrible by then?” you forced a begging tone.

Taeyeon was always helpful, and this moment was no exception. She dug through the clothes you had left behind in your family home, and muttered to herself her thoughts as she did so.

“You know, I read your father’s mind yesterday,” she suddenly spoke up. You had been digging around your jewelry box and were a bit caught off guard by this announcement.

“Oh,” was all you could say.

“I know… about your…” she paused now, looking up as if to search for the words as her hands hovered over a dress. “Heritage,” she finally settled.

“Ah,” she didn’t make it easy for you to respond with anything more intelligent.

“Your past doesn’t change who you are, remember that,” was all she said, before yanking out a white over the shoulder top and a pair of slacks that were buried in your closet. “Put this on, and we’ll braid your hair to cover the bandage.”

Sitting on the couch facing Yuta’s mother felt like torture. So badly you wished you had gotten your onyx necklace back from Sicheng, so at the very least there could be some sort of safety net. But you were on your own, managing your emotions as best as possible.

Your father and Taeyeon awkwardly stood in the corner of the living room, glancing between Yuta’s mother, you, and the ornately wrapped gift box that sat on the center coffee table.

“My, while it is nice to see the both of you,” she flashed her fangs now as she forced a smile at them, “I would love to have this moment be a private one,” she looked back at you then, “just between us.”

 You forced an uncomfortable smile back and looked towards your father, “sounds great.”

The pair then, after exchanging nervous looks, excused themselves down the hall to your father’s office.

Left alone now, you looked back at the older, beautiful vampire. “Thank you for coming by, I did not expect this. Although it is a lovely surprise,” you forced, hoping she would look past what to her was not one but two bites on you from her son. She smiled and leaned forward, pushing the box closer to you than it already was.

“I am happy to be here and follow our traditions. Please, open the box. I helped design the dress with you wholly in mind,” she cheered, an odd almost excited energy coming from her. The hairs on the back of your neck rose, but you mentally tried to soothe yourself, trying to convince yourself that she had maybe turned over a new leaf- or was at least trying to give you a real chance.

Smiling at her, you slowly undid the ribbon that held the golden box together, peeling away the delicate fabric. Setting it aside, you lifted the lid of the box and felt your blood run cold.

At the top, set deliberately was a pack of wrap gauze bandages. You tried to not think over the implications too much, setting it aside with the ribbon to pull out the dress that sat underneath. A plunging, halter top dress with a double slit that would run along both thighs.

It was a beautiful dress, with gorgeous black lacing and both black and ruby jewels sewn into the top. But, it was also incredibly revealing- the neck and thighs both being exposed. Glancing down, you looked at the gauze wrap before looking back at Yuta’s mother.

“I had figured you would need the wrap. My son can’t seem to control himself and you allow this to happen,” her tone was still light hearted, but the words were full of a venom that sunk deep into your bones. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Mouth still dry, you sputtered out, “they’ll be healed before tomorrow.” Maybe you could- embarrassingly- ask Johnny to heal at least your neck. Anything would be better than this… symbol she so lovingly wanted you to wear. She clicked her tongue, before smiling and standing up.

“I think not. I already noted to the rest of the council-sans my son- that the bandages are a part of your gifted coronation outfit. Not wearing it… would simply be rude, don’t you think?” she was watching you, seeming to relish in seeing you freeze and try to come up with any sort of proper response to her.

“It would be rude, don’t you think?” she repeated, speaking through her smile now. She had backed you into a corner, fully. 

If you don’t embarrass yourself and wear the wrapped bandages which exposes yours and Yuta’s intimate life, you in turn place him in horrific standing with the people he would be working with and then in turn, his subjects. Wearing them just humiliates you. They’ll know where, or rather, who it was from and create their own assumptions. Jaw clenched, trying to think of anything besides bursting into flames, you nodded at her.

“Glad you agree, and good to know you have some… useful attributes. See you tomorrow,” with that, she glided out from the living room and out the front door. You dropped the dress back into the box and slowly walked downstairs to the basement, ignoring Taeyeon and your father’s calls for you. 

“I need to be alone!” you shouted, shutting the door roughly behind you. You’d apologize later, but you figured it would be best to let yourself be angry in the least flammable spot as soon as possible.

The basement's high ceilings, open space, and linoleum floors allowed for you to quickly find an open spot to curl up into a ball.

It was a deep, angry cry of agony that came from your gut it seemed, and as it released so did the fire you were holding back along with every other feature you hadn’t felt since that night at the bar. Your ears extended, your fangs pierced through your gums to fully extend to your jaw, your shirt that hardly even fit you correctly was split as your demonic wings sliced through it.

Sicheng had explained to you the form in bits, but didn’t get much into how you control it or how even to go back without holy water or bible verses that were used last time to bring you back. Now, with your panicked human mind trying to damage control, the Satanic portion of your mind only focused on one thing- anger.

You were angry with everything. Angry that you didn’t know about your heritage. Angry that you couldn’t properly control yourself. Angry that it was your fault that Yuta was forced to be controlled his whole life.

You dug your extended nails into the linoleum, trying to restrain the wings on your back that so desperately tried to lift and go whoever knows where, all the while yelling in anger with tears streaming down your face.

“I shouldn’t have trusted Sicheng,” it wasn’t your Dad. You were confused, both warring parts if your brain now ceasing to try to overtake you. You looked around to see who it came from. In the flames that surrounded you, stood a black shadow.

“What th-?”

“I don’t have much time- speaking to you has proven to be difficult,” the shadow seemed to speak. “All I’ve been able to do is send visions and help with your memories. The first time you had burst into flames, when you had seen the full extension of the night you were found, and only being able to send you the first part of that memory over the years.”

You were frozen now, your anger slowly subsiding and the flames seeming to diminish.

“Stay angry. I need one minute,” they chastised, irritating you enough to reignite the flames again. “Good. I sent Sicheng with you that night in hopes that when you were old enough, you would then rule the underworld on my behalf.”

Your eyes widened. “Satan?”

“Yes, and you are ready to take on that role. I have been sending demons to the surface world to locate and evaluate you. You have an enormous power- greater than two vampires even when they were only dormant- it’s wonderful.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you cut in, your voice coming out as a growl. There was harsh laughter from the shadow.

“You don’t have much of a choice. I’ll be seeing you soon, when the clock strikes midnight.”

Then the shadow- your biological father- vanished into smoke, leaving you alone with your anger and flames.

“Come back!” you shouted, seething. You had unfolded yourself from the floor, standing tall with your hands curled into fists. “I have a choice!” you yelled into the air, the fire growing exponentially now and slowly reaching out towards the dining room table and licking at the paintings on the wall.

“Y/N!” you faintly heard your name, turning your head slightly to see someone standing by the basement steps. It was hard to tell who it was, and the anger was still festering in the pit of your stomach.

“Stay away,” your voice carried over despite you not putting much force. They moved closer, so close to the flames that once you recognized who it was, you panicked.

“Stay away!” you repeated, anxious as you wanted to move into the corner but realized all the highly flammable objects that lingered close to you.

“You won’t hurt me,” Yuta called back, his eyes not showing any fear despite your horrible state.

“I can’t control them,” you choked, holding yourself tightly, the surrounding flames diminishing slightly at the lowered anger you were feeling.

“That’s okay. I’m here for you,” he then extended his hand, the blue flames now moving to caress his fingers, “always.”

A few moments of silence passed, your eyes not moving from each other, before slowly the flames recessed along with all other portions of your demonic form, leaving behind a pain in your gums, ears, back, and a torn up shirt. 

You stood now, a few feet apart from Yuta, sobbing as he moved swiftly to gather you in his arms and hold you tightly.

“I don’t,” sob, “want,” sob, “this.”

“I know,” was all he could say, squeezing you tightly to him as he caressed your hair and aching back. “Your powers may be difficult to control, but it’s part of who you are.”

Sobbing harder, you couldn’t even articulate to him what you were actually hysterical over. To him, he likely only knows that his mother said some harsh words to you and you decided to burst into flames. He has no clue that Satan of all beings is what had you in hysterics, spewing tears and snot onto Yuta’s nice shirt.

“Don’t let me go,” you sputtered out, burying your face into his cold and welcoming shoulder.

“I was never going to,” he replied, seeming confused. It was all you could say without beginning to explain everything- you didn’t even know if you could.

***

Chaein gently tied off the bandage, patting your neck gently.

“It’s not too tight, right?” she asked, holding the leftover bandage roll in her hand. You, Mark, and your mythic friends decided to prepare for the coronation at your family home since coronation was set to occur only a half an hour out from there compared to the hour it would be from the University

“I guess it’s fine,” you affirmed, moving your hair forward to instinctually try and cover the bandages.

“You know, most people might not be able to guess where it’s from! Your Dad was complaining to Taeyeon about some guy named Sicheng fighting you,” her ear twitched as she spoke to show she was still actively listening to the people upstairs.

“Yeah, maybe,” you forced a smile before thanking her. Chaein’s family’s colors were a soft lilac paired with an offwhite color, her dress being bright and elegant compared to the dark tones you had on. 

“Taeyeon’s going to start corralling everyone,” Chaein noted to you. Several moments passed before Taeyeon stepped out from the basement, her long silver beaded dress shining brightly without the help of any light.

“All right folks, it’s time to go!” she called up the stairs, taking her phone out from her clutch and sitting on the couch with you two. “Men will always complain about women taking long, but I’ve only ever been late somewhere because of a man.”

“Johnny is rushing Ten and Hendery… Jaemin is walking down already,” Chaein announced, ears twitching enough to make the earrings she had on jingle. As she had assessed , Jaemin slowly descended from the stairs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black suit pants.

“Aw, you look dashing Jaemin,” Taeyeon noted, sending an encouraging smile his way.

“Get out of my head,” was all he responded with, leaning now on the last step as he adjusted the collar of his scarlett blazer.

“Excuse me for being curious about what the psychic is thinking,” Taeyeon groaned. 

“The bandages don’t look that bad, by the way,” he called over to you, and you noted the flash of white his eye had before returning to normal.

“Are you telling me that as a friend or someone looking into the future?” you asked, and he smiled in a way that seemed as if he was holding back some pain.

“As your friend, sorry,” he admitted. You groaned, wishing you could do anything to hide at all of the parts of you that were exposed. Even the bandage wrapped around your thigh still managed to peek its way out enough to be noticeable to anyone looking at you. It was embarrassing around your friends already.

You glanced at your phone, smiling. You knew you would have no shot of speaking with Yuta, but you still texted him this morning, letting him know that you were excited to see him and that you loved him. You told him you loved him a dozen times, primarily because you were panicked about what Satan had told you yesterday and were in horrible fear that it would be the last time you could tell him that.

I can’t wait to see you, I wish I was with you all. I love you.

“Oh Ten’s mother is calling him,” Chaein noted, laughing now as she seemed to be eavesdropping. “Wow, she is feisty.”

After a few more moments, your father, Mark, Johnny, Ten, and Hendery descended down the stairs ready to go.

“Geez took you guys long enough,” you laughed, starting the way to the driveway.

“Geez, what, did he just take a huge chomp out of your neck and your thigh?” Hendery asked loudly, earning a warning wide eyed response from you, Mark, Taeyeon, and Ten. They all knew how your Dad was, and some of you would have to be in a car with him for thirty minutes- the last thing that was needed was for him to go on an endless speech about yours and Yuta’s endeavors. 

“Huh? I was just asking if-?”

“Okay everyone lets get going!” Taeyeon loudly cut off Hendery, grabbing Hendery by the wrist and helping drag him away from your Dad.

“What was he going on about?” your Dad asked aloud, heading towards his SUV.

“No idea,” you and Mark both quickly responded at the same time.

“Chomp… he… wait… oh my god,” you watched the gears in your Dad’s head turn and you quickly ran to Taeyeon’s car.

“Oh look Taeyeon’s car has space, I’ll see you guys there!” you shouted, clamoring into the car that was visibly already full. Squeezing into the three seater backseat, Hendery, Jaemin, and Johnny groaned.

“I thought you were going with your Dad?” Johnny asked.

“Oh no-he knows,” Chaein who sat in the front seat hissed, patting Taeyeon’s shoulder to start the car.

“Someone thought it would be an appropriate question to ask about the nature of my boyfriend biting my neck in front of my father,” you then thumped Hendery’s forehead, earning a surprised ouch.

“Oh please your Dad can’t be that bad,” Hendery countered.

“Taeyeon, you should start driving before he jumps onto the car,” Jaemin warned. This finally got Taeyeon’s attention, and she quickly backed the car out of the driveway as your father seemed to be charging towards it.

“Next time, you guys are driving yourselves,” she huffed, tossing her phone onto Chaein’s lap.

“Our parents were all already there the night before,” Johnny reminded her, earning an annoyed sigh from the mind reader. Last night, mythics who did not have to travel from afar, were ‘highly encouraged’ to help do the work of any final preparations needed for the coronation, and as such, most of your mythic friends had their parents roped into the mundane task.

The coronation was to be held in an isolated area about a half an hour out from town in a mythic non-denominational worship hall- or an old church, depending on who you asked. Ten swore it was beautiful, and Johnny nodded in agreement when they had told you about it. You were less than thrilled. You were glad it wasn’t a sect of Satan, but it still didn’t make you feel all that safe either way.

The first fifteen minutes was sheer silence, the only noise in the car being the radio Chaein was managing, and the sound of the car’s wheels along the road. Trees lined both sides of the road, making it difficult to gauge much in terms of distance and how far along you really were.

“Y/N,” Jaemin suddenly spoke, breaking everyone’s thoughts. You glanced over as best as you could despite being squished between the door and Hendery.

“You and Yuta are going to be just fine,” he smiled softly. His smile didn’t meet his eyes, and you swallowed a lump in your throat before nodding and looking back out the window. He knows the prophecy. If you and Yuta are okay… it was at the price of someone else- and you knew it was not fair. 

“We’re getting close,” Chaein stated, earrings ringing. Slowly, the trees began thinning, acres and acres of seemingly empty farmland spanning across both sides of the single road.

“How do mythics hide this church from humans?” you asked absentmindedly. It was something you had always thought about, especially knowing there were so many mythic enclaves that existed and thrived.

“Same way we hide most buildings, faerie dust,” Johnny seemingly teased. “Well, it’s more like a powder that can fall from our wings and act as a cloaking mechanism, but close enough.”

“Considering how hard it can be to collect and use, you’d lose your mind over some of the structures they manage to conceal with it,” Taeyeon added, turning the car into what seemed like random brick gates on vacant farm land. 

At the front of the iron gates was a burly man. He gestured to Taeyeon to lower her car window, which she obliged.

“Everyone in the car please state your name and species,” they leaned themselves against the frame of the car, until their eyes settled on Jaemin. His eyes widened in shame as he quickly let go and bowed. “I did not realize a member of the oligarchy was in this vehicle, my deepest apologies. Please proceed.”

“Thank you!” Taeyeon hollered, not raising her window as the iron gates opened and allowed you all to enter what seemed like empty farm land. “That guy shit himself when he saw Jaemin,” she giggled.

“Happy to help,” Jaemin replied, earning a chuckle from everyone else in the car. Before your eyes then, the sunlight seemed to shift. It was as if the sun was reframing itself, and the lighting adjusted to reveal a massive, ornate Victorian structure, cars lining themselves around the building and slowly having different mythics shuffle towards it.

Stepping out of the now parked car, the ground around you shifted from gravel to a beautiful marble that seemed to flank the entire area. Your Dad, Mark, Ten got out of the SUV now parked next to you, Mark glaring at you.

“How was the drive?” Ten asked you all, looking at his reflection in the car’s mirror and adjusting the black collar of his red suit jacket.

“Cramped,” Hendery huffed, patting his pants to remove any wrinkling that may have occurred in the drive.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Mark mocked. Your Dad climbed out of the car, and you avoided eye contact as he did so.

“I’m… just going to pretend I know nothing,” was all he said before starting the way to the front of the church.

“Huh, sweet,” you sighed in relief.

“Yeah he got it all out in the car,” Ten noted, earning an exasperated sigh from Mark. You had all started walking then. You lagged behind, and as such Ten quickly grabbed your wrist and stopped you from going further. You raised an eyebrow at him as he glanced ahead to make sure no one had noticed yours or his absence yet.

“My Mom asked you to meet her in the back with us,” he explained.

“Us?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin came out from behind your Dad’s car, making you and Ten jump in surprise.

“Man, that was freaky,” Ten huffed.

“But it was funny, now let’s get going,” Jaemin led, surprising you and Ten a bit. Following behind, you quickly texted Mark that you were asked to take the back entrance, and that you would meet up with them when you could.

The building was large, and with the wind and having to thread between the cars, you held the dress tightly as you could to prevent any additional mishaps that could happen with the ever so gracious piece that was given to you. Approaching the back of the church, you knew it was near as grand as the front must be, but it was still beautiful enough to stun you with its elegance as you approached.

The oak doors opened before Ten could open them, and out was his mother in a large red and black ball gown.

“Oh, Ten!” she cheered, rushing to wrap him in a hug.

“I was with you yesterday!” he bemoaned, trying to get out of her embrace. She let him go, chuckling as he moved past her.

“Hello,” Jaemin greeted blankly, also moving past her. When her eyes landed on you when you approached, you gulped and forced a smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice how quickly your heart was racing now that you were here.

Her eyes landed on your neck, and she sighed in disappointment.

“Come with me sweetie,” she whispered, extending her hand out to you. Confused, you took it and followed her inside. The back hall was a bustling area, several other mythics in red and black colored garments walking around and asking questions, organizing papers, and seeming to be in a panic. Embarrassingly, you looked around, hoping you could maybe spot Yuta.

Brushing past the main back hall, you were led to a small hallway that seemed to hold different dressing rooms. Some rooms were open, and you could hear laughter from a few, smoke emanating from another, but it was mainly quiet as you were led towards the end of the hall. Turning back towards you, Ten’s mother gripped your shoulder and leaned closely to your ear.

“The rest of the council is in agreement that having you forced and presented with your bites is shameful,” she whispered, and your eyes widened. “Behind here, a faerie agreed to remove them, but stay quiet.” She stood back then and knocked on the door four times, seemed to count to herself, and then nodded to you before walking away from you in the hallway. For a moment, you swore no one was behind the door, as there wasn’t even a sound coming from there. You considered just opening it, and as you extended your hand to the door knob to turn it yourself when it opened, slightly, a hand from inside extended to grab your wrist and forcibly yank you through the now barely opened door.

“Damn, you didn’t need to be so aggressive,” you hissed, snatching your wrist back from Taeyong. 

“Sorry, Ten’s Mom was stressing me out about being discreet,” he whispered, looking apologetic as he moved to lock the door. The dressing room he was in was large and oddly empty, with empty mannequins in the back, a large closet, and a tailoring section in the middle.

“It’s fine, thank you,” you muttered.

“Nah, don’t mention it. Really don’t mention it,” he repeated, his eyes widening. “If anyone asks, it was a mind reader in Siberia who patched these up.”

You chuckled at his response and nodded in agreement. You sat on the small platform in front of the triple mirrors, unbandaging your thigh as Taeyong quickly undid the one on your neck and managed it. It was silent for a few moments, before you spoke up.

“Have you seen Yuta today?” you asked. 

“Yeah, briefly. Although, we’ll all be seeing him soon enough,” Taeyong noted. 

“How did he seem?” you pressed, hoping you could at least gauge how he was feeling. Taeyong hummed a bit, thinking to himself as he seemed to throw some powder over your hair.

“Like himself,” was all he replied with, before stepping back and staring at your neck. “I think you should be fine. I’m going to step out so you can check that one on your thigh but-,” he raised his voice slightly, “I’ll be back in a few to check.”

He stepped out, and you raised an eyebrow at this, before shrugging. You turned towards the mirror, and lifted the center fabric from your dress to see that the bite mark that had sat on your upper thigh was now gone without a trace, same thing for the ones on your neck.

“How disappointing,” a voice announced. You instinctively reached for your bo staff before realizing you didn’t have it. Turning from the mirrors and coming out from the closet was Yuta, who was smiling at you brighter than you had ever seen. “I liked how the bites look.”

Excitedly, you got off the platform and quickly hugged your boyfriend, taking him by surprise as he laughed and held you closely. “I liked them too,” you admitted. “I just don’t like being judged for them.”

“And that, I do agree with,” he mused, caressing your hair. You pulled back, holding his face in your hands to study him. He was beautiful, there was no doubt, but he seemed different. Off.

“How are you?” you asked, watching his eyes dart away from you as he thought over this.

“Not great,” he admitted, brown eyes staring back down at you as if he too was studying your features. “But, you’ve made me feel a lot better,” he smiled, his smile meeting his eyes now.

“Hm, how so?” you giggled, running your thumb along his cheekbone.

“Well, you’re here, you look great, and I also have something I would really love for you to do,” he then moved and you let go of his face, watching as he dug into the inner pockets of his red suit jacket. Out he pulled your beat up copy of Frankenstein, a smile still on his face.

“When did you even get that?” you giggled, taking the copy from his extended hands.

“A few nights ago. So, I get sworn into the King position, and in the past most people used the Sect of Satan’s Scrolls to swear on,” he frowned at this. “I don’t want to, and the council understood- they said I could select any other text, and can have the person of my choice hold the book for me to swear on,” he was smiling again, seeming to bounce on his toes with this. A feeling of joy and honor swelled in your chest, and you stared at the copy of Frankenstein. You remember wondering about what his thoughts were on the book, wondering if he liked speaking with you the way you liked speaking with him. How he had first surprised you in your dorm, and used the book as an excuse to engage in conversation with you.

“Hey, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he suddenly said. You looked up, surprised, and he moved his hand to swipe away a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

“No, I want to. Nothing would make me happier,” you affirmed.

***

The coronation would be in a large balcony that overlooked the main ballroom, you came to find out. The founding families had started out of the curtains first, a silence now emanating from the ballroom upon the sight of them. You were nervous, your hands shaking. You squeezed the copy of Frankenstein in your hands tighter as Yuta’s mother and father now stood in front of you.

“Don’t fuck this up,” his mother hissed at you, before taking her husbands arm and stepping out of the curtain. 

“Thank you again for doing this, I know I can do anything when I’m with you,” Yuta whispered in your ear, helping relieve the bubbling anger you felt when seeing his mother.

“All right, you two step out and in the off center front of the families, I’ll enter through the middle once I count to ten,” Taeyong’s mother, the soon to be former Queen instructed. Nodding, Yuta lifted his elbow for you to hold, and you held on tightly as the curtains were moved for you two to walk through.

There was a nearly blinding light pointed to the large balcony, and you had to use what little strength you had to not flinch and just stare straight ahead. What was a silent crowd murmured as you stepped out. Moving through the opening path through the oligarchy families, you caught a glimpse of Ten, who shot you a wink before you and Yuta moved fully to the front. Following Yuta’s lead, you shuffled to the right hand side of the small formation, opposite from where his parents stood. 

Silent seconds felt like an eternity, before a small orchestra seemed to play from somewhere. A grand, yet soft sound began to play, and everyone turned towards the curtains as they rose, showing the Queen. She looked stunning from every angle. She didn’t have her crown on when you saw her before, but now, a golden crown sat on her head that matched her golden faerie wings perfectly. Gracefully, she slowly walked through the path, and as she did, everyone in the oligarchy began to bow, and you followed suit, wanting to be respectful and also not wanting to stick out anymore than you already did.

“Good evening everyone,” she spoke, allowing her subjects to rest as you all stood up straight again. “Tonight, I return to being a subject, and we embrace our next leader.”

You squeezed Yuta’s arm encouragingly, as you felt him stiffen next to you. The Queen spoke for about thirty minutes, recounting her years as Queen of the mythics. You and Yuta shared occasional glances with each other, trying to be as encouraging as the adrenaline wore off slowly the longer you stayed standing still.

“Now, if Yuta Nakamoto and the person holding his swearing literature could please step forward,” she called suddenly, bringing you back from zoning out. You let go of Yuta’s arm, hands now firmly holding the copy Frankenstein as he moved to the side of the Queen and you stood behind them at the center, the book now flat on both of your hands. “Place your left hand on the book, raise your right hand, and repeat after me.”

The next few moments were hazy, but the look on Yuta’s face as he recited his promise to protect his people, made a horrible pit sit in your stomach. You knew he was freaking out, and yet, he looked like a King. His face was determined, his eyebrows pinched together as he focused on everything the Queen was saying and not slipping up.

“Congratulations, King Nakamoto,” the now former Queen cheered, lifting the crown from her head and placing it directly onto Yuta’s. In a moment, the crown transformed from the large, beautiful golden crown, to something more silent. It took a moment, but once you and the crowd realized what it was, it was clear that there was something odd. 

A few gasps emanated from the crown, and both you and the Queen widened your eyes as you saw what now sat on Yuta’s head- an iron crown of thorns that, if not for his stone Vampiric skin, would easy pierce him or anyone else who wore it. 

Yuta however, could not see the crown, and in a panic turned to you to try and figure out what could be so weird that the former Queen was so dumbfounded.

“It’s… a crown of thorns,” you whispered softly, hoping that with the gasps and murmurs in the crowd no one would hear you affirm what it looked like. Yuta pressed his lips tightly together, his brain seeming to run through just how strange that had to be before nodding and looking back to the former Queen.

“Thank you,” was all he could say to her. She nodded, before tapping your shoulder to signal to you to return to your original spot as she then moved to now stand with her son. You nodded, and glanced back at Yuta before going back to the front of the Oligarchy line up, watching Yuta turn to now face down at the crowded ballroom. 

“Good evening everyone.”

Yuta spoke much less than Taeyong’s mother, mainly outlining his plans and thanking everyone for guiding him on his journey to preparing for this role. Before you knew it, the Oligarchy was slowly exiting the balcony to take the hidden stairwell behind the curtains. Yuta moved to your side and took your hand in his.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling nervously.

“No problem, sir,” you teased. Moving under the curtain, you followed behind as everyone shuffled down the steps, listening as the speaking sounds from the main ballroom grew louder the closer you got.

“What time is it?” he asked, patting his pockets before realizing he didn’t have his phone on him. You took your own phone out, and once you saw the digits on your phone turn to midnight, that was when you heard the sound of an explosion, forcing everyone in the stairwell to drop in panic.

“What the fuck?” Ten called from the front, hearing the cries from the ballroom. You saw it from the door frame at the bottom of the stairwell, causing you to bolt over the panicked mythics to head down stairs, hearing Yuta trail behind you. When you opened the door, you saw the attendees rushing out of the front door, only a few people staying behind the edges of the ballroom to stare at the large blue flame sitting underneath where the balcony was.

“Shit,” you muttered, moving aside so that Yuta could see. “I don’t think it’s going to hurt anyone else, help them out of here,” you muttered to him, your eyes pleading. He was searching your face now, trying to silently piece something together.

“Don’t do anything without me,” he begged. You nodded, moving aside to watch him lead the oligarchy out from the stairwell and towards the nearest exit outside of the building, several of them screaming in fear when they saw the blue flame sitting at the center.

“You guys should go too,” you chastised, panicking once you saw that Jaemin and Ten had stayed behind in the stairwell and were watching the blue flame.

“And miss this? Absolutely not,” Ten cracked his knuckles, moving out of the stairwell and into the ballroom, moving around the edges of the flame. There was a hand on your shoulder, and you noticed it was Jaemin, looking solemnly at the center of the ballroom.

“My favorite color is yellow,” he spoke.

“I… what does that have to do with anything?” you wanted to yell. You felt terrified enough as it was, but Jaemin randomly speaking with you was not helping.

He shrugged, “you might need to know that.” 

You let out an exasperated sigh and started moving towards the ballroom, the blue flame growing now the closer you got.

“Sis!” Mark called, rushing towards you and hanging onto your arm.

“Mark! Where’s Dad?” you asked, your eyes searching wildly around the room to try and see who had stayed behind.

“He’s outside trying to help control the crowd and call the Vatican,” he explained.

“Why is this here?” Johnny called, seeming to just run in from the outside as he undid his tie. “Did you do this by accident?”

“It wasn’t me!” you snapped, feeling an anger festering in your stomach.

“Then who was it? Sicheng is still at the College,” Ten noted, and now moved towards where you three stood.

“Who’s the main being known for their blue flames?” Jaemin pointed, having now appeared next to Mark.

The large front entrance opened again, and within a second Yuta was standing behind you now, all of you staring at the single, angry blue flame.

“How could Satan even manage to send this? And why?” Yuta vocalized. You gulped and turned around, watching as everyone turned their attention to you.

“Yesterday… he visited me.”

“What?” Yuta cried, his eyes lacing now with their red strands.

“Yeah, what?” Ten repeated, his eyes now slowly matching Yuta’s.

“He told me that… he wants me to go to the underworld and reign on his behalf,” you admitted, a weight you didn’t realize was on your shoulders now lifting as you finally admitted what happened.

“Sis, what the fuck are you talking about?” Mark grabbed your shoulders and shook you, his own voice panicked.

“Uh, guys,” Johnny whispered, his eyes looking past you.

“Not right now, Johnny! What do you mean reign? Like, the underworld?” Yuta asked, his own voice rising.

“Guys,” Johnny repeated, his voice a bit more stern.

“You aren’t going anywhere!” Ten challenged, his eyebrows furrowing.

“GUYS!” Johnny shouted, earning him a glare from Mark, Ten, and Yuta.

“What?” they all spat in unison. Johnny lifted a finger, and you all turned to look back at the blue flame, now seeing that it had doubled in size, and a shadowy figure now standing at the center of it.

“Oh, how fun,” Jaemin laughed dryly.

“It’s time,” a booming voice called, the voice matching the one you heard yesterday.

“I’m not going anywhere!” you shouted, moving from Mark’s grip and stepping forward. There was a booming laugh, and the flame grew three times in size, now fully enveloping the balcony above it. Oh shit, you panicked, hands trembling as their own blue flames were dwarfed by the one now trying to spread throughout the building.

“It’s either you come with me, or I kill every single mythic in the area and then take you,” Satan called, the voice so loud it vibrated through every part of your body.

“Once the three qualifications are met, the following sequence will occur- a destined ruler will die in order for the blue flames to arrive to earth, a mythic in relation to the deceased ruler will fall in love with the flames. Either the pair dies, or someone else dies in order to protect them.” Jaemin’s words rang through your head, and you choked on a sob as the realization hit you- this was the path Jaemin had been watching for. 

“You aren’t taking her,” Yuta shouted. He stepped forward now, his crown of thorns seeming to glow with a blue hue against the blue flames. You looked at him now, eyes widened in fear as you took his hand in yours that was now without flames.

“Oh, that’s adorable. My daughter is half mortal and yet finds herself with the mythic king. Very different from her Dad,” Satan’s laugh was bitter and horrid- it reverberated through every part of your body.

“You may be my father, but you are not my dad,” you grit your teeth in anger.

“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way,” there was a groan before the flames seemed to shrink, an eerie silence having suddenly grown. “How about a deal?” You and Yuta looked at each other, as if trying to figure out what on earth Satan could possibly want.

“Give me the most powerful mythic here… I can sense he will be useful to me in my endeavors,” Satan’s shadowy figure seemed to be thinking, waiting for a response.

“Who are you talking about?” you shouted, confused. You saw a figure step away from you all, now close to the flame. “Jaemin, what are you doing?”

“Yes, the psychic. If you give me your soul to take to the underworld, I will spare you and your friends,” Satan taunted. You moved quickly, rushing to grip Jaemin’s arm. “I can sense that he cares about you all so deeply, that it doubles as a punishment for you, my daughter. How wonderful.”

“You are not going, Jaemin, this is my fight not yours,” you begged Jaemin, voice shaking. He gave you that look of sorrow as everything clicked into place. “Oh my god, you’ve known this whole time,” you cried, tears streaming down your face now. The entire time he’s known you, he knew it would come to this- he had known his fate, and as the days inched closer he was more solemn, yet accepting of this. Nothing you could say would change his mind. It’s been made up from the beginning.

“Sunflowers. Those are my favorite flowers. Get them for me sometimes, will you?” Jaemin asked, his own voice trembling as he spoke. 

“Who's to say he’s going to be okay with this forever? That he’ll stop with you? That he won’t come back?” you fought, holding his arm tightly. No one should have to be whisked away to the underworld on your behalf- certainly not Jaemin. Jaemin’s trembling lips turned upwards to a smile, the blue flames shining now against his bright white teeth. He brought his hand up, and tapped his head. 

“I’m to say,” he replied. Moving quickly, one of his hands shoved something into your free hand. Before you could even ask what it was, he turned to the shadow in the blue flames. “I enter through the flames, correct.”

“Yes… yes,” the flames then shrunk again, now meeting perfectly to match Jaemin’s height.

“Jaemin, you’re not going,” Yuta moved forward now, reaching for Jaemin’s arm. You looked at your hand, seeing that it was a crumbled wad of paper. One side had text you couldn’t even begin to decipher, and on the other side in neat scrawl, was the words: For Sicheng.

“This is the only right path,” Jaemin countered. He turned to you, smiling. His smile was steady now, he wasn’t trembling, he was firm- this was what he was going to do.

“Jaemin…” you paused. What could you even possibly say to him? Raising your free hand, you tapped your own forehead like he did that first day you met him in the library. “I will thank you hundreds of times.”

He laughed now, raising his own hand back up to his forehead. “Up here.”

Then Jaemin moved towards the flame, being engulfed in them. For a moment, two shadows stood in the flames, before it was gone all at once.

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

Can you write something where when the reader sees Aaron for the first time in the fbi vest she can’t take her eyes off of him. When he confronts her about it, she denies it so he decides to send her filthy texts the whole flight home. When they land he tells the reader to get in his car. When they get to his place to go at it, she asks if he’ll wear the vest. He does. DomHotch!!! 😚 xoxo

You'll have to wait

(Request by anonymous)

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warning - (NSFW 18+)

Word Count - 2.3k

Material list

______________________

“Alright Reid and JJ stay here, look over anything else we might have missed. Coronate the media and send back up.” My eyes snapped over to Aaron. 

“Sir what about me.” 

“You’re coming with, your vest is in the car. Everybody lets go.” 

I was confused at the request but I followed the order. 

I never went into the field, I had experience from my previous job before the BAU. But Aaron never let me go with him to make an arrest which I never minded. I’d much rather work from the precinct or do an interrogation

I had my gun with me at all times but have I ever used it in an actual situation... With the BAU never once but with my other job yes. When Aaron and I got together he never changed a thing about how he acted towards me. It was always business but he did still worry about me. 

Going after regular criminals is definitely less nerve racking than serial killers. 

“Hotch sir”, I stopped him before he left the room. “Are you about me going with you? I can stay here, It’s not a problem.” 

“Y/n you’ll be fine. Strauss called earlier about how you never do anything, how I ‘benched you’. She wanted to see what you could do.” 

“But--” I tried to speak but JJ and Reid left the room and we needed to move over. “Look y/n we need to go.. come on.” He lightly tugged on my arm to follow him. I followed him as the rest of the team left the building. 

We climbed into the SUVs. The whole way there Hotch gave the orders that the ubsub was in the house, he didn’t plan on coming out alive. Morgan, Hotch, and I got into one car while Emily and Rossi went into the other. 

Aaron and Morgan could feel the nervousness radiating off of my body. Morgan turned around in the passenger seat, “Baby you gotta calm down.” 

I scoffed a dry laugh, “Easy for you to say, you guys do this all the time.” 

Aaron kept his hands on the wheel and focused on the road. “You’ve done this before nothings different.” 

“Yeah it is, I worked with those people in the field before and I trusted them. That's not me saying I don't trust you guys because I do... It’s just different.” 

“Just follow us you’ll be okay.” Aaron spoke and turned the corner on the street and my view revealed lines of cop cars and flashing lights. Hotch pulled over and we all got out of the car, I walked behind him and go to the back. 

He opens the trunk and pulls out three vests. I froze a little, being intimidated. I watched as Morgan and Aaron put on their vests. My eyes drifted over to Aaron, it fit his body perfectly. The navy blues kevlar fibers and white letters splayed across his chest. 

“Sweetheart, my eyes are up here.” He said teasingly after Derek had walked away. “Sorry”, he just smirked and helped me tighten my vest before we made our way over to the officers. 

“Are you ready?” Aaron and I walked over the house. 

“Totally.” I wasn’t ready, being too distracted.

--------------------------------------

On the jet Aaron sat in the back with his face buried in the files that scattered the table. I was with Emily and Derek on the opposite end. They were talking about Reid and teasing him while he was sitting in the seat next to us. 

While they were cracking jokes I couldn’t stop thinking about how Aaron looked in that fucking vest. He was already built but with the extra padding he just sparked that part of me.

My eyes drifted over to him working, he pen glided across the paper and his hands--

Zoning out I didn’t realize that he had noticed. Then my phone vibrated on the table. 

Aaron - Are you okay there

Me - Yeah I'm fine... why

Aaron - You’re staring

Me - No I wasn’t just thinking about you

Aaron - Me? You know what I think

Aaron - I think you couldn’t stop thinking about how I looked earlier. Your mouth was practically water at the sight of me. I bet you just wanted to get on your knees right there in front of everyone

I glanced up in surprise at Aaron and his files were closed and he was looking at me with a smug grin. 

Aaron - You’re imagining it now aren’t you

I was honestly, the things I’d do for that man. I clenched my thighs together and hoped no one noticed. 

I didn’t want to react but he was already getting a rise out of me. 

Aaron - You want to be on your back and have me over you with my cock buried so far, just wait baby

My eyes widened a bit and I put my phone back down. There was no hiding how flush my face was. “Who keeps blowing up your phone.” 

“Don’t worry about it”, i said too quickly and Emily reached over the table to grab my phone. I lunged over and snatched it back before she had the opportunity to search through it. 

“Okay...” JJ said after being included in the conversation. Aaron saw how I had excused myself from the table and went to the bathroom. 

When the plane landed we all exited and headed back to the office for the remainder of our things. 

After everyone left I joined them, going into my car from the garage, I heard a car behind me. Aaron pulled up and rolled down the window, “My place, now.” 

He didn’t say much after that, I climbed into the car and he reached a hand over to my thigh. His finger rubbed my thigh before the tipped of his fingers brushing, dangerously close to my core. 

I just glanced over at him, he was still in his suit. His shirt was so tight over his chest you could see the definition. 

We crossed the threshold of his house and not a second went by before my back was slammed against the wall.  

“Aaron”, he shook his head slightly. “I didn’t say you could speak.” 

“Please, I just-- I wanna ask you something.” 

“You get one question before I have my way with you”, his hand traveled down my neck and to hip, keeping me on the wall. “Wear it.” He raised his eyebrows. 

“The vest.” 

“I knew you couldn’t stop those thoughts from going into your pretty little head, you want me to wear a government issued bulletproof vest so you can have your fantasy.” I whimpered, I really wanted it. 

“I want you stripped and on the bed when I come back.” He released me and stepped away going out to the car. I went up stairs and in the bedroom shedding my clothes on the way. I kneeled on the bed and just waited and waited. 

When he didn’t return the arousal between my leg was already dripping down onto the bed, slipping a hand down I made slow circles on my clit. 

I was too focused on the sensation that I didn’t hear his heavy footsteps approaching the room. He watched with a smirk on his lips as I arched my back on the duvet. I got closer and closer to finishing and he could tell. 

My eyes snapped open and he was hovering over me, “I tell you when to cum... understand.” his voice was dark and coated with lust. I didn’t expect him, I thought I’d be able to hear.

I nervously nodded my head. “Tsk, are you going to be a good girl for me.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“I don’t think you are, needy little sluts always say whatever they need to get their way. That sounds like you doesn’t it?” He put a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to match his. 

“No sir I promise.” 

“We’ll see won’t we, step off and get on your knees.” He pushed himself off the bed and I got the full view of him. It was like I saw him for the first time again, he looked so fucking good. 

I didn’t take a second thought before getting low in front of him, patiently waiting for him. Aaron was going to either take his time or be indescribably rough to get the message through. 

His hands went to his belt and took it off moving around me and buckling my hands together behind my back. 

Stepping in front of me he unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to pull himself out. “Open”, he ordered before my jaw slacked as he slid his cock into my mouth. 

He looked down at me and my eyes met his. A groan escaped his lips before he took the motion. Sliding a hand behind my head and into my hair, he gripped a portion.

Tilting my head up a bit more so he could thrust in and out easier. “This is what you wanted right-- fuck little girl you’re doing that so well.” He gritted out using my mouth as a tool for his own pleasure. 

He was right, this is what I wanted, just the feeling of him inside my mouth was enough to make me cum. I wished he’d let me touch him, to just get a better grip and grab his thighs to stable myself. 

“I might actually let you finish tonight if you keep this up.” With the limited motion I had I flattened my tongue along his shaft and took him in as deep as I could before it was too much. 

I gagged around him, no matter how far we were into the scene he still cared about how I was feeling. Aaron pulled out and loosened my hair in his fingers, “You gotta breathe.” 

There was a string of saliva moving down my face as I swallowed and collected myself. "Are you okay?", I nodded softly.

"Do you want to keep going?" He gave me an out, he didn't want me to feel obligated to keep going just because of him. Aaron wanted me to feel comfortable.

"Yes", he resumed what he wanted. Opening my mouth back up. 

His cock moved slower to give me extra time to get okay again. When I moaned around him he got the message.

Pushing his hips into my face again and I got that feeling of my jaw being stretched. 

He groaned and his dick twitched and I knew he was close, I wanted him to finish but he pulled back. 

When he got a hold of my waist he tossed me on the bed. Flipping me over roughly my face pressed into the pillows below me. Aaron manhandled me like I was a ragdoll. “Well would you look at that, you really do get off when you act like the whore you are” There a small wet spot on the floor. 

My face was flushed and I caught my breath. Feeling the bed dip he adjusted my hips into the air. “Fuck”, I muttered my breath. 

“What was that.” I didn’t answer and he didn’t like that. 

His hand traveled over my curve of my spine and Aaron placed a slap onto my ass. Recovering he slammed himself into me and I jerked forwards. Letting out an embarrassingly loud moan I bit my lip and tried to hold them in.

“Now don’t do that now, I wanna. hear. you.” He every word he pumped in. I whimpered, getting the relief that had been building a few hours earlier. He grazed my g-spot deliciously and snaked a hand to my clit. 

“Oh god... fuck.” Leaning onto me his other hand wrapped around my neck and lifted me flush against his chest. I felt the kevlar on my back and it scratched my sensitive skin. 

His fingers tightened around my throat and squeezed. My vision went hazed and I rested my head back onto his shoulder. My back arched and I got every sensation I could. 

We locked eyes and he captured my lips in his, he slid his tongue over mine and claimed dominance. 

“Does the little bitch deserve to cum tonight.” He quickened his thrusts and I jolted. “Daddy please.” I clenched around him and I watched as he tossed his head back. I was already so close, and he knew it. 

“Sir can I cum.” 

“Not yet.” I could barely hold it, his pace on my clit was too much to handle. I choked out, “Aaron please.” 

“Go ahead baby.” Releasing the tension that was building was like breaking a dam. I came around him and I felt him pulse. My orgasm brought him over the edge and he spilled inside of me. 

I fell limp and he let me go, my pulse calmed as I came back to reality. He undid my restraints and I automatically pulled him on me, my lips met his.

“Come here”, he whispered against my lips and he helped me stand as my knees buckled. I couldn’t walk or stand on my own, “Fuck Aaron.” I chuckled and he brought me to the bathroom, cleaning up. 

I watched as he shed his clothes, to lazy to actually put them in the hamper they laid on the floor. “It was hot in that.” He said when he felt the cool air on his skin. 

I smirked and kissed him again, “and it was so fucking worth it.” 

“Glad you enjoyed it."

Getting up I made my way back into the bedroom and settled under the thin sheet. I laid my head down, Aaron had gone into the kitchen to get me some water.

When he came back he smiled at the sight, I was already sleeping so he placed the glass next to me on the table.

He got into bed, curling up with me. My sleeping body flipped over and automatically clung on to him. Putting my head on his chest, his arm moved around me and his hand rested on my hip.

Aaron kissed my temple and he fell asleep soundly.

[elvish-sky]

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

A.N: OK GUYS- i literally tied my hand to my sister’s to figure out some of the logistics of movement for this. She thinks I’m crazy now. But I loved this request! I’m currently catching up on requests and also dealing with some personal issues, and I haven’t been happy with anything I’ve written in a really long time, but I’m really happy with this! It would mean so much to me if you guys liked it too, I put so much work into this and I’m so proud of it!

also- a thousand thank you’s to @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth for giving me an idea for this fic. i appreciate you letting me use it so so much. thank you.

Requested by @raineeace on Tumblr: Your recent request you wrote was beyond cute! You’re an amazing writer, so catch me reading the rest of your LOTR content !! I also wanted to request something as well! Can you do a Faramir x Fem!Reader and Gandalf and/or Pippin try to get them together? I loved the how you wrote Aragorn as cupid, and I wanted to ask if you could make these two matchmakers as well? Lots of fluff please and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,334

Pairing: Faramir x Reader

Summary: You and Faramir have been mooning over each other for months, but nothing has come of Pippin’s efforts to get you together. What happens when Pippin enlists the help of a certain wizard?

Warnings: Fluff, Humor

****

How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

Pippin leaned over the banister, watching you and Faramir walk together below. You smiled at something the man said, then nodding your head goodbye and walking away. The hobbit watched as Faramir stood there, watching you go, looking oddly lonely.

Pippin had been watching/trying to get you and Faramir together for a while now. He had first noticed the chemistry and romantic tension between you when everyone was gathered waiting for Frodo to heal, and decided to do something about it. Now, months later, nothing had happened. Pippin thought that at this point neither of you was ever going to confess your very obvious feelings for the other.

At least, not without some extra help.

“Come on, Gandalf, please?”

The wizard shook his head, “I cannot believe you are still going on about this.”

“They need the help,” Pippin told him, “Plus, getting them to admit their feelings to each other would help them, and ease your exasperation with the two of them for walking in circles around each other!”

The wizard shook his head. “I’m not going to help you with this!”

“It’s for the greater good! Can you really stand to see the two of them mooning over each other all the time?”

“That’s true. It’s getting ridiculous,” Gandalf sighed, “Fine. I’ll help. Where do we start?”

Back in your room, you lifted your head from your desk as a loud, hobbitish whoop rand through the air. You chalked it up to Pippin hitting another elf, probably Legolas, with an apple, and returned to your work. You hoped that it wasn’t Legolas that Pippin had hit, because the last time that happened Legolas had promptly eaten the apple, and Pippin had bemoaned the loss of his snack for weeks.

That night, you left your room, closing the door behind you and setting off down the hallway. You’d barely made it fifteen feet when another door opened right in front of you and Faramir came rushing out, crashing into you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I feel terrible!”

“It’s okay!”

You shuffled your feet, nervous to be so close to the person you’d been in love with for months.

It was also weird how close your rooms were- Aragorn had given everyone from the Fellowship and friends special quarters after his coronation. You could understand why the hobbits’ rooms were so close together, but wondered why Aragorn had placed you and Faramir almost directly across from each other. Probably because the two of you worked together the closest on negotiations with the other kingdoms.

Eventually, Faramir broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

“So, late to dinner?”

You smiled, glad he’d spoken first.

“Yeah. I got so focused on drafting that new trade agreement with the Iron Hills that I didn’t realize how low the sun was.”

He nodded. “I completely understand, I’ve done that far too many times, working on something like that or staying outside the city for far too long.”

Laughing, you looped your arm through his. “We should get to dinner before Aragorn yells at us.”

You entered the hall together, pushing open the doors to see your friends all seated around the high table. Dinners with the group had started when everyone was waiting for Frodo to heal and wake up and had just continued on, everyone reluctant to give up the time spent together.

Letting go of Faramir’s arm, you took your usual seat between him and his brother.

“What prompted you two to arrive together?” Boromir winked at you as he whispered.

“Huh? Oh, we just bumped into each other in the hall.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirked as he spoke.

“Pass the potatoes, please, Boromir.” You were determined to change the subject, and, happily, it seemed to have worked.

What you didn’t notice was Gandalf staring intently at you and Faramir, muttering something under his breath as Pippin watched gleefully.

You yawned, pushing your empty plate away with a groan.

“I’m stuffed. And tired. I think I’ll head to my rooms.”

Everyone said goodbye, and you pushed back your chair and went to stand.

But you couldn’t.

There were handcuffs on, one on your wrist, and the other on Faramir’s. And they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Who handcuffed us?” You were bewildered.

“Gandalf…” Faramir glared at the wizard.

Gandalf glanced behind himself, and, seeing no one, turned back around with an innocent expression.

“What could I have done to make this happen?” He gestured to your hands, still handcuffed together.

Faramir said, “I don’t know, but it had to have been you!”

“Ask yourself this, Faramir. What motivation could I have possibly had? I think one you probably just ran astray of something else?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, then, how do we make it stop?”

“Only time will tell,” the wizard nodded sagely.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You exclaimed.

“Just stay together? Do everything together?” Pippin looked all too pleased by this.

“Fine. C’mon Faramir.”

The man rose, and together you marched out of the hall, handcuffs clanking, never moving further than five inches apart.

Once in the hallway, you turned to Faramir, panicked.

“What do we do? We’re stuck five inches, or less, apart from each other for Eru knows how long, we both have important duties.”

“And there’s going to the bathroom, and sleeping, and eating..” he was just as freaked out as you.

You turned to each other.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Y/N, Faramir, chill.”

You tried to turn, but the clanking and tug on your wrist stopped you as you spun the wrong way, twisting yourself with Faramir.

“Ok, no wait,” he backed up, accidentally taking you with him.

“Here, go this way, move your hand left.”

“No, no, my left, my left.”

“Spin this way?”

“You go under, I go over?”

“Aha! Yes, that worked!” You high-fived each other clunkily, and turned, making sure to bring your arms over your heads so that your hands fell back again.

“Oh, Pippin! What were you saying?”

Pippin smiled at Faramir. “I can help.”

“Would you mind telling us how?”

“You just have to accept it!”

“WHAT?” You screamed in unison.

Back in the hall, Aragorn winced at the echo of the yell.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” He questioned the wizard.

“Of course not,” Gandalf replied, “but it was not mine. It was all Pippin, and if anything goes wrong that’s who we’ll blame.”

Legolas chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll leave it all on Pippin.”

Boromir raised a mug of ale. “TO-”

He was cut off by a resounding shush, and, chastened, began again.

“To Y/N and Faramir”

Everyone echoed the sentiment, quietly, and clinked their mugs.

Back in the hallway, you and Faramir were glaring at Pippin.

“You want us to just live like this?”

“Yes! You’ll be fine, maybe it’ll wear off soon, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Ughhhhhh,” you stormed away, dragging Faramir behind you.

Approaching your door, you were suddenly stopped when Faramir halted behind you.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet. “Whose room are we staying in?”

You considered. “Which one is bigger? We’ll need all the maneuvering space we can get.”

You walked together over to your doorway, poking your heads inside before moving back to his.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” He asked.

“Yeah. You have more space and a bigger bed. Let’s just go back to my room so that I can grab a few things if I’ll be staying with you indefinitely.”

“How are we going to do this?”

You stared at Faramir’s bed.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You hadn’t thought this situation could get any more awkward, but there it was. The crown jewel of awkwardness, coming out to torment you. It had been bad enough attempting to change into your nightclothes, which you’d managed by turning your backs to each other to put them on, and only wearing one sleeve. But this was worse.

You decided to just go for it, and climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Your movement pulled the handcuffs so that Faramir went with you, and you ended up on one side of the bed, him on the other, hands cuffed together in the center.

“This is not very comfortable,” Faramir observed.

That was true. You were lying flat on your back when you always slept on your side, and you were literally handcuffed to another person. Unable to stand the absurdity of it all, you broke out into laughter.

Faramir joined in, and you laughed together until you had tears in your eyes. His smile was so bright in the dimly lit room, and you could listen to his laugh for a thousand years without getting sick of it.

When the laughter subsided, you decided nothing could be more uncomfortable than the position your body was currently stuck in.

“Do you usually sleep on your side?”

Faramir nodded, looking a little confused.

“Ok. I’m going to try something, it’s going to be really awkward, but we might actually be able to sleep.”

“I trust you, Y/N. Whatever you’re going to do will be fine.”

You smiled at him, internally still freaking out that you were sharing a bed with Faramir. But there was no time to panic, your shoulder was killing you.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped so that the handcuffed arm was now underneath you, chain stretching up to where Faramir’s arm hovered.

“Would you be alright with putting your arm over my waist?” You wanted to make sure he was comfortable with all this.

Craning your neck, you saw a faint blush creeping up his face in the dusky light.

“Only if it’s ok with you,” he seemed nervous.

You were too, but you nodded and felt him slowly settle his arm around your waist.

Once it was there, his hand gently hanging near your stomach, you both relaxed, letting out sighs as the tension left your bodies simultaneously.

And then you giggled. Again, because this was just too ridiculous.

He laughed too. “You alright?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bumping into his chest as he sucked in a breath.

“I’m good.”

It took a while for each of you to fall asleep, brains spinning with thoughts of the person next to you. But eventually, you did.

It was the best you had slept in years.

The next day, the two of you began to figure out how to go around with your hands stuck together. You ate by spooning the food into each other’s mouths one at a time, which you were pretty sure Boromir was sketching to memorialize forever.

You blinked your eyes open the next day to sunlight streaming through the windows, and soft breathing behind you. Carefully, you turned around so that your hands now rested between your bodies.

Faramir’s face was glowing with the light of the morning sun, hair spread on the pillow. You’d never seen him so peaceful, and he looked gorgeous like some Vala come across the world to Gondor.

Unable to resist the impulse, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

You quickly moved back, only to notice that the weight on your hand was gone.

You looked down.

The handcuffs were gone.

“Faramir! Faramir!” You shook him awake.

“What, Y/N?” He asked groggily.

His morning voice was perfection itself, and you had to bring yourself back to reality.

“The handcuffs are gone. Look!”

He shot up at this, looking down at his now-free hand.

“Wow! We should probably go let Gandalf know.”

You nodded. “Meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and the last thing you saw as you closed the door was Faramir marveling at his now-free wrist.

Later, in the room that Gandalf had claimed as his office right next to the large hall where you usually ate, you sat together.

The wizard inquired, “What exactly happened?”

“The handcuffs were gone when I woke up,” Faramir told him.

“That shouldn’t have just happened. They were supposed to disappear when a physical manifestation of your affection for each other happened.”

“You did this?” You were outraged.

“Yes, Y/N, I did.”

Sensing that you were about to interrupt in outrage again, he added on.

“It should have been a physical manifestation of affection that was not circumstantial because of the handcuffs.”

You sighed, knowing what it was.

Faramir turned to you. “Do you know what it could have been?”

You stared straight at the floor.

“I… kissed your cheek when I woke up this morning.”

He blinked at you, shocked. Gandalf discreetly slipped out the door.

“You just looked so handsome in the sunlight with your hair glowing and I couldn’t resist and I’m so sorry and I’ll leave Gondor right now and never come back and what you must think of me no-”

“Y/N.”

You stopped rambling, looking at Faramir. He leaned closer to you, and in the depths of his eyes, you saw nothing but love. He paused for a moment, head tilted as if asking for your permission.

You nodded your head.

Faramir moved closer, tilting your chin up so that his lips met yours, kissing you oh-so-gently. Then somehow you were standing, lips still touching his as he surged closer and kissed you harder, like all the passion and feeling in the world was just pouring out of him and into you.

Finally, you broke apart, smiles on both your faces.

“I think I love you.,” you said, then clapped a hand over your mouth.

Faramir smirked. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you too.”

You gazed at each other for a few moments, before you grabbed his hand.

“Now, let’s go kill a wizard.”

Opening the doors to the hallway, you saw said wizard suddenly disappear.

You corrected yourself.

“Let’s go kill that wizard once he returns from wherever he’s hidden himself.”

Faramir laughed. “Let’s kill Gandalf later. For now, would you like to go for a walk?”

You smiled at him, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Lead on, my love.”

Everything tag❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fic tag: @eru-vande @annkdarar @lust4crust @the-reformed-ringwraith @ethereal-earendil

[dwellordream]

“…Being a damsel was a specific job. It meant that you were a lady in waiting in a house that was not your own. A lot of the time the period of service would kick in around about thirteen when families had educated their daughters to a level that was deemed sufficient. The next step of their education was to get refined and ladified, so they would get shipped to live with another, usually richer and more powerful, family.

Damsels did all sorts of work. They embroidered and helped with cloth production. They made their lady’s bed. They took messages to other rich people if their mistresses didn’t feel like going themselves. In general, they made themselves useful in whatever way was best. In return, they learned how great houses were run, made contacts among the aristocracy, and hopefully made a good impression so that they could secure a marriage with a nice (rich) young man as well.

Anyway the thing about being a damsel, as my patron Max (shout out!) pointed out, is that the main sort of work you did was essentially being an inverse influencer.

This is because the major thing that damsels did was be very conspicuously pretty, well dressed, and hanging out with the woman that they were serving, especially in ceremonial circumstances. Phillips notes, for example, that Dame Katherine Grey and Mistress Ditton served at Elizabeth of York’s (1466-1503) coronation in 1487 by going “under the table where they sat on either side of the Queen’s feet all the dinner time.” Similarly, the Countesses of Oxford and Rivers “kneeled on either side of the Queen, and at certain times held a kerchief before her Grace”.[2]

Now this is an extremely specific (and weird) flex. What Elizabeth was showing was that she was surrounded by hot important chicks at all times. She had so many hot important chicks around her that they just hung out to pass her a napkin when she needed it. Hell, she had hot important chicks sitting under the table where you can’t even see them just because she can. It’s like a late medieval version of a selfie full of Instagram baddies and a caption that says, “Quiet Tuesday in with these idiots, yawn.”

The point of having a bunch of damsels around you was to create a spectacle which highlighted the woman in charge. She looks very feminine and very powerful because she has lots of feminine powerful women surrounding her and serving her. In return, the damsels get to be a part of the spectacle and prove that they are well connected and feminine enough to be used in this manner. It’s a form of display and you, peasant, are meant to be very very impressed by it. So basically, a powerful lady or queen with a large retinue is running a hype house. I will not be apologizing for this analogy, thanks.

This is interesting though, because it acts in a sort of reverse way from how influencers work now. Influencers are, of course, expected to be extremely hot, and usually conspicuously feminine when they are women. When we have to deal with every white girl in the world in a pair of suede boots at a pumpkin patch every autumn they are acting out a specific form of girly-girlness that we are meant to recognise, respect, and respond to.

However, unlike damsels which are meant to make it clear that someone is very important, and indeed much more important than their audience, influencers have to make their audiences feel as though they are actually friends. Yes, they are standing in a million-dollar beach house in a three-hundred-dollar bikini, but maybe you could be there too with them! The only thing preventing you from doing so is buying X product which will make you just like them.

…So the difference is that influencers are attempting to create what we in the analysing society game refer to as “parasocial relationships”. That’s a technical way of saying when you feel like you have a relationship with someone based off of their media output. So, you know like how you feel that you are friends with the people who are on your favourite podcast? That is a parasocial relationship and that is what influencers do. This is in stark contrast with damsels and ladies’ courts who are extremely on a Mean Girls vibe and doing “on Wednesdays we wear pink” in front of an audience who knows that they, decisively, cannot sit with them.

Hilariously in both the medieval and modern contexts, whether the women in question are letting you know you are not friends, are trying to make you think that you are, the pretty ladies doing the display make some people very very sad. Phillips notes that in the fourteenth-century Book of Vices and Virtues it was written that damsels wearing pretty clothes were in mortal danger of their souls, both because they were vain and because they inspired lechery in the dudes who saw them. It reads:

“To behold these ladies and these maidens and damsels arrayed and appareled, that often [time] apparel them more quaintly and gaily for to make [foolish] lookers to look on them and [think] not to do great sin … But certainly they sin well grievously, for they make and be the cause of loss of many souls, and where-through many men are dead and fall into great sin; for men say in old proverbs, ‘Ladies of rich and gay apparel are arrow blast [against] the tower.’ For she has no member on her body that is not a [snare] of the devil, as Solomon says, wherefore they must yield accounts at the day of doom of all the souls that by reason of them are damned.”[3]

In other words, the damsels at court might think there is nothing wrong with being conspicuously hot in public, but in fact, it is very sinful because it creates a sinful society and encourages lust in men. TL/DR: dressing up in public means that you are in league with the devil.

…This is important to note because both medieval European society and our society now have a clearly very fraught relationship with women displaying themselves in public. The attempt to control gaze both then and now has some very visceral reactions. It can make people feel awe, or build entire relationships in their mind. It can also enrage people to the point that they condemn these women even though, and this is crucial, in neither case were they actually in a relationship with their audiences.

The important thing to take away from all of this is that women being put on display, and using that to wield power, is a very old practice. What has changed over time is the way that display is focused. Medieval people used it to keep others as an outgroup, and people now use it to make outsiders feel as though they are in. Overall, the goal is the same: accruing power, prestige, and respect to the woman who is in control of her image. This often results in backlash but the thing about it is that the world has yet to end because a bunch of hot chicks hung out one time and then someone felt bad about themselves.

Do I think that either iteration of hyper-feminine display is necessarily laudable? Not especially. I am just saying it is a constant feature in our society, and if you want to get rid of it, then we need to rethink our approach to femininity more generally. Until we can offer women more ways to gain prestige, we are gonna keep going back to old reliable: being conventionally attractive. I find it hard to get mad about that.

- Dr. Eleanor Janega, “On damsels and influencers.”