#The first palace is done and over :3
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lowkeyclueless5137 · 2 years ago
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Palace of faiytales (III)
:3c
*shamelessly slides in* the clown is back!
It's me... I'm the clown. :'3
Back at it again, this time with: Dun Dun Dun! The ending of the 1st palace Saga!
:0c shocker, I know...
I mean... It's short... Like only 3 parts... But then again, it's already pretty much settled and we got the deadline to tend to. Not to mention already we have a team of 4 thieves so. :3
What we will cover:
-the treasure route secured
-the boss fight with Neige
-the change of heart
-the aftermath
Now let's move onto the action!
With the addition of Vil to the team, they had to get him a codename too. And while everyone suggested a royalty kind of codename, Vil himself chose Poison. It was simple, not so lavish, but it did say tones about the real Vil. A poisonous beauty to say the least. :3
Hours of exploring every nook and canny of the palace, discovering every secret and opening every door. The treasure did not show up until they found a button in the throne room, which was all in a deplorable state.
Once pressed, the button changed the throne room into a lavish one, walls made out of glass and cristal, an ornate Chandelier above the throne as the room itself was decorated with carpets and textile decorations which screamed rich.
The treasure was an immaterial Bloob of light that seemed to be above the throne.
While in there, Riddle gained more personas and Igor introduced him to the fusion system. Fun times with Silver and a chainsaw! :D
Now it came the part where Joker insisted to make a meeting at LeBlanc, like the old days. But this time, Ortho, Deuce, Riddle, Ace and Vil were present as well.
Now it was the time to discuss. Sure, they were targeting a minor this time. Or more like the kids targeted another kid. They needed to be discret about it. After all, Neige was a raising star in acting. Vil was just a simple model in a small industry, more focused on his schoolwork.
It was explained that they needed a calling card to get Neige's treasure to materialise. The adults voiced their own concerns, since they had to steal the treasure on the same day, while Neige was alert about it.
Ace and Ortho decided to write the calling card and another of the Phanthom thieves, who the kids did not yet meet, will make sure Neige will see it. To have some sort of guide of how it can look like, Yusuke had copies of their previous calling cards.
Of course Ortho recognized some names from the news or online articles. Riddle recognised almost all of them since he did his own little lookout on such cases. From Kamoshida to the Prime Minister...
Tomorrow it was the last day before Neige would hand the pictures and account to the police. They had to do it tomorrow.
Unfortunately, the only adult thieves available were Queen, Oracle, Panther, Skull and Fox. Deuce still was a bit shook to know his mama was a thief too.
So the big day comes. At the end of the last class, Neige got his notebook when something fell out of it, on the floor. It seemed like he did not notice it up until now.
And they decided to read it out loud, so the whole class could hear. The lil note was not signed, but the message spoke for itself.
'Dear, Neige LeBlanche, deceitful prince of vanity. You have committed grave sins of oppression, manipulation, ordering and abusing students who were unfairly deemed as evils of your fairytale. So in accordance, we will steal those scummy desires and make you pay with your own hand for your wrongs.'
One other classmate grabbed it tho, asking Neige what was this about. The boy played the innocent and scared lil lamb card, gaining the sympathy of others who tried to reassure that it was all a prank.
But Riddle knew. He knew the glare Neige gave to the card. He knew the shadow was most likely taking all precautions possible to make sure the treasure won't be stolen.
And it was time to steal his heart!
With Queen and Skull taking over the main defenders as Oracle was guiding them through the palace, to the treasure room.
Except that in the throne room, shadow Neige was staying on the throne, guards on every inch of the room itself.
Meanwhile, a certain ginger got into the palace by pure accident. :'3
On our thieves's end, they decided to use Riddle as he was the lightest, in order to get on the Chandelier and swipe off the treasure.
They also needed a distraction too.
So they all looked at Skull. >:3
Making a commotion on the hall, most of the guards were off to see what was going on. So with that, the other guards were not a problem.
The problem came tho... When Riddle swiped off the treasure. A guard spotted him and they shook the Chandelier, putting Riddle on the spot. Even with the others intervening, the treasure ended up back in the hands of the palace ruler.
~~~~~~~~
"You fools! To think you would try and be so crafty to steal my crown?!" Shadow Neige boasted, his garments turning into far more dirty and tattered versions. He grew in size, fair skin becoming a sicklish green, full of imperfections. His nose was long and hunched as the one glimmering yellow eyes were now bobbling up, full of bloodlust.
"You are all just a bunch of villains that can never win!" the monster roared. "here he comes!" Oracle announced as all of them took their defensive stances.
~~~~~~~~
This was the boss form or the ultimate form of the palace ruler. They needed to take it out without killing it.
And this boss's thing was that he was summoning guards by slamming a spoon to a triangle. The annoying thing it was that it kept happening. It didn't matter if the guards were defeated or not. They would come more and more.
Oracle unfortunately revealed that Neige was weak to Wind attacks. Attacks which no one else besides Rose could use. The guards were fortunately weak to ice, so Spade and Fox could take care of them.
But they needed to get to Neige somehow.
~~~~~~~~
"We need to deploy someone to get to LeBlanche via the Chandelier! Someone needs to get that triangle and spoon..." Oracle demanded. "I think I can do it..." Panther offered.
SWOSH! CRASH!
A gush of powerful wind entered the room, throwing off Neige and swiping away the guards. The thieves group stuck closer to one another as to not be thrown off as well. The chandelier was what broke and crashed onto a bunch of guards.
"Are we late to the party?" "Hell yeah!" 2 voices, one being recognized as Skull's, were heard.
On the wide open double doors, Skull and another individual were staying. The new guy's attire was in black, white and red, with a police like yellow and black band wrapped around the shoulder. It was clear as day that it was Ace, as he didn't have a mask on, behind him, what one would assume it would be his persona, let out a battle cry, sweeping yet another gush of wind with it's tails.
Ace smiled mischievously at Neige, who glared at him. "Ya think I'm just a mere peasant? Well it's time for a revolution!"
~~~~~~~~
Riddle carves violence and death yet again... :'3
But at least now, Ace was a life savior, since his persona had wind attacks. Panther was still deployed to take out the triangle and spoon, getting rid successfully of the guards as well as leaving Neige to he defeated by the thieves more easily.
But still he wasn't letting anything down without a fight. Ace seemed the same as boy was ready to decapitate Neige then and there.
It seems like out of everyone in there, Ace, Oracle, Fox and Flame were the most affected by Neige. For different motives, but still.
In the end, the palace ruler had to go back to normal and the treasure, which was a crown, rolled down to the thieves's feet.
Although, it seemed something else was watching them too.
~~~~~~~~
"It's over, Neige..." Rose pointed his tip of the rapier towards the shadow's head. "I-I-it's not over... I am the hero! I should always win!" The shadow demanded through heavy breaths.
"But a hero doesn't rely on fame to trick others into doing the dirty work..." Spade spoke up. "A hero accepts that some may not like them. It's natural..." Vil added. "And a hero most certainly doesn't push others to death with their own hands! This is what makes a criminal!" Flame added.
"If you really want to be a hero... No one is stopping you... But it would be hard to fix what you've done... So be wise for once, because the truth will come out one way or another... A hero is always trying to pick the wisest decision..." Ace mused, holding the said treasure crown.
It was a small silence. "I... Will be wise.... Thank you... For making me see the truth..." The palace ruler slowly dissappeared with a soft glow. "Is he dead?!" Ace looked around. "No... It means tha-" Queen trailed.
The ground shook, the walls were crumbling down and the ceiling was falling off.
"It means we are gonna be dead if we don't move!" Panther piped in. "RUN!" "YOUR PE HOMEWORK FOR TODAY IS TO GET OUT ALIVE!" "WE HAVE HOMEWORK FOR PE?!" "THIS IS YOUR CONCERN, ROSE?!" "YES?!" "LESS CHATTING, MORE RUNNING!"
They were close to the main entrance. Oh so close to getting out. "Wait! I'm getting some wierd readin-" Oracle tried to keep up the pace. Something shadowy was lurking from behind a pillar, looking at the group with hunger.
THUD!
Oracle let out a pained yell as something put her to the ground. "ORACLE!" Fox immediately tried to reach to his wife, but the beast seemed to aim for something else.
Necronomicon forcefully hot out, the persona crying in pain as it was dissolved to little particles, Futaba returning to her normal attire. "Johanna!" Queen summoned her persona. "I will get Oracle back! You run!" she demanded. Fox nodded as he quickly nudged the kids to go out with Skull and Panther. "Mama!" Flame called, but in vain. He got no answer. Spade gently patted his back. "It will be alright..." He tried to reassure.
The world seemed to distort again as the thieves found themselves back in the real world. "Alright... 1... 2... 3... All 5 are here..." Ann called. "Yusuke... Bro..." Ryuji patted his friend's shoulder. "They will be alright... They know what they are doing..." The man tried to reassure, although it was more for himself.
"Whatcha weeping about?"
The group looked at both Makoto and Futaba coming to them, the 2 leaning on each other for support. "You've made it!" Ann cheered, but the frown on Makoto's face told them that it wasn't something good.
"We... Lost Johanna and Necronomicon..." The police woman mused.
Silence...
"For real?! How is that even possible?!" Ryuji gasped. "We don't know... We didn't get any kind of physical or mental shift... But we weren't able to summon our personas..." Futaba cleared it out. "Well... At least that thing is most likely dead as well..." Ann theorised. "It is certainly dead... It couldn't have made it out anyway since it got stuck as we ran away from there..." Makoto recalled.
"Mama..." Deuce cautiously approached his mother. "I am alright, Deucey... I am not that easy to fall..." The woman reassured as she kissed her son's forehead. Futaba hugged Ortho without any protest from the other. "At least the treasure is secured..." The woman exhaled.
"Yeah... It turned into this thing as we got out..." Ace mused as he showed. The said papers. "It's Neige and I's first big play... I played the Villain in there... It was also Neige's raise as an acting star..." Vil mused.
~~~~~~~~
With the treasure being a script, the group now had to wait for the change.
Unfortunately, tomorrow Neige promised to give those photos and account to the authorities. So they had to hope that it will be alright.
Mr Kurusu got informed about the happenings too. Sure he was taken aback by the apparition of the creature and the persona dissappearings. Futaba and Makoto told them that still their personas were in them, but unable to get out at all... It was as if their magical energy used to get out was sucked away. Which also meant no more metaverse costumes and no more persona usings from the 2.
The next day, it was the big day!
In the morning, the group meet up at Leblanc, where a shook Ortho told them what actually Idia was doing into those photos. Vil wasn't there due to a morning photoshoot.
He was getting anime merch and pieces of metal junk for his project.
They risked their asses just so Idia could get without any complications his anime merch. (this was actually a smol comic I drew for an workshop) :'3
But as they were proceeding with the classes, Neige's sudden absence made our group a bit wary. The teachers said that suddenly Neige got sick, so he was staying in bed and couldn't attend classes.
In 3 days tho, Neige seemed to return to classes.
And it was even more weirder when poor Idia was passing through the hall to get to the toilet, but Neige dropped at his feet, begging for forgiveness. In the middle of the goddamn hall. In front of both students and teachers.
Poor Idia... He just wanted to go to the bathroom... :'3
Of course, when Neige brought up the Shroud case, even more gasps were heard around. It seemed like that switched something in Idia as his expression turned into a grimm one. He leaned down and whispered something to Neige, which immediately got the other to raise and bow, promising that he would do that as fast as possible.
No one knew what Idia told Neige and neither Neige mentioned about it, as he turned himself in and currently was under police investigation regarding the Shroud case and may other cases of bullying. In response to that, apparently Neige was also expelled.
Vil seemed happy that Idia at least got a bit of his courage back. So he wanted to face him about it, by the end of the classes, in an empty classroom the 2 were put on cleaning duty. Idia because it was his turn and Vil because he insisted to be on cleaning duty today.
~~~~~~~~
"I am curious, Idia..." Vil broke the awkward silence. "What did you tell Neige?" he asked, seeing how the other tensed up. It was a small silence before Idia exhaled.
"I told him... That no matter how much he will beg for forgiveness... I will never give it to him... I told him to scram and never cross my path or Ortho's again..." The dyed haired boy mumbled, fist clenched over the little board sponge. Vil looked at him with a raised brow. "You are one mercyless guy..." The blonde mused. Idia looked down, the silence overtaking them."
"If... You were given a chance... To punish someone who is doing bad... Even if you knew the consequences... Would you take it?"
Vil was silent, looking at the other. "I would take it..." "But what about the-" "Consequences come with everything... My silence costed your expense..." Vil made a pause.
"It costed our friend too, Idia..."
"You never mentioned them up until now..." "Because it was too painful... To know I could've done something against it..." Vil slammed his fist to the board.
"I was useless then... But now I will not be silent anymore... I am sorry... I couldn't be better then..."
Idia was silent. "Apology accepted..." "Then... Can we be friends again? Like the good times..." "You jump the gun now..." Idia backed out, raising his hands in the air. It was a small silence, the 2 finishing the clean-up. The black and blue haired boy grabbed his bag, getting out a small sandwich, which he split in 2 parts.
Vil was rummaging through the social media, when he felt a nudge. Raising his gaze, he spotted one of the sandwich halves. Smiling he accepted the part, taking a bite out of it.
"I guess you are jumping the gun too, Idia..."
~~~~~~~~
Once the news were out, of course scandals were commencing. I mean... A beloved celebrity turned out to be a very shitty person... And a minor on top of it just made things worse.
But Neige's confession was enough to close the Shroud case successfully. Idia's confession wasn't needed anymore.
So with that, the group of kids and adults decided to celebrate. For a successful heist and also the kids's first palace mission ending successfully.
So for starters... Something small: a remote party at LeBlanc. More or so a sleepover in the attic/Riddle's room.
Ortho also mentioned that Idia showed him his project. He wasn't going to give any details, but it was pretty awesome. Idia told him he would want it to present to the school on the culture fair. Maybe that would give him a small recognition for possible colleges.
At night tho, Riddle is again dragged to the Velvet Room.
Igor congratulates him on a well done job, but mentions that it is not over. The threat that was uncovered is quite enigmatic and dangerous. Silver warns that far more obstacles would come in his way, trying to stop him from having his story be told.
But for now, Igor nudges Riddle to celebrate, as this kind of moments would soon be expensive.
Meanwhile, a small chat occurs in 2 cases: a pair of young brothers... And an uncle with his nephew...
Aaaaaaaaannnndd DONE!
The palace of fairytales arc is done!
Now I am debating if I should make an extra chapter which would cover the mechanics of the palace/team dynamics/daily life. Kinda like if this was a game, it must have some mechanics behind it.
What do you think? And do you have any speculations on who we might be next? Or... A better question: who we will get beef with?
Until next time! Buh bye!
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bookshelf-in-progress · 2 years ago
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Fun fact: The fairy tale flash fiction has now passed 4,000 words.
#i'm okay talking about it because i'm going to finish this thing if it kills me#it nearly has#you don't know how i've agonized over those opening scenes#writing and then rewriting and then cutting almost everything of it#i gave up months ago before finally getting inspiration or at least motivation to just push through#i've now reached roughly the halfway point#maybe 3/4#and i am embarrassed by a lot of it but also at least i have something that sort of a little bit flows#i want to finish the ask game stories before starting on the four loves challenge#the trouble is that i love tattercoats as a story so much that i'm aiming for a more detailed retelling than i might otherwise#it's still bare bones because i'm a hack who can't write description#but it's going to sit in a weird middle ground of being too long to be satisfying short fiction and too short to count as a full retelling#i've got one speech that i love#a few images or moments that i'm okay with#and the rest is just scaffolding that hopefully keeps the story from collapsing even if it isn't pretty#all duct-taped together with sentiment#i had hoped to get a first draft done tonight but since that ain't happening there's no chance it's getting done this week#but at least i'm further in than i've ever been before#and making good use of scene breaks so this section feels more doable than it ever has#if i can just get them to the palace it'll be relatively smooth sailing#here's hoping i can keep from overagonizing and just get a draft down that i can edit later#it hasn't happened yet during this draft but one can hope#(which is rather a prominent theme in the story actually)#adventures in writing
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ireneispunk · 7 months ago
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Duty
Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut
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After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.
w.c: 1487
c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any
a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.
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Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.
“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.
He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.
You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.
Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.
You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.
You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.
You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.
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theonottsbxtch · 1 month ago
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Hiii I have a request for you. Can I pls have a princess!reader x Max Verstappen. Something happened (maybe like too much royal duties) and she had to get away for a bit. And she ran across Max and they ended up hanging out together. And then he made her feel normal so she kept sneaking out to see him.
Maybe you can make it a little angsty with a HEA pls.
Ps, I love your writing! Can I be 🐴 anon?
THE PRINCESS AND THE DRIVER PT1 | MV1
an: thank you for this request and yes of course you can be 🐴 anon! i'm having way too much fun writing this and i've yapped my buttocks off, i'm already at 14k words so i'm going to split this into a few parts and i hope you enjoy it! <3
wc: 6.4K
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The Princess had spent the evening pretending everything was fine. She’d smiled through the formal dinner, nodded politely at endless conversations, and held herself with the grace expected of her. But as the night wore on, the weight of it all pressed down on her chest like a tight corset, squeezing the air from her lungs. Every curtsy, every forced laugh, had added another layer to the suffocation.
By the time the palace halls had grown quiet, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She needed to get out—away from the golden chandeliers, the careful whispers, and the constant eyes that watched her every move. It felt like she was drowning in expectations, and the only way to breathe was to leave, even if just for a few hours.
The stables were her refuge. She’d discovered that long ago, as a child, when the pressures of the court were less heavy but still present, lurking in the background. Now, as she slipped into the stables’ cool shadows, she felt her heartbeat slow just a little, her muscles loosening in the familiar surroundings. The smell of hay and horses grounded her, bringing her a small sense of peace.
She walked softly, the thick, polished soles of her boots barely making a sound against the stone floor. The horses stirred as she passed, their gentle snorts and soft whinnies acknowledging her presence but not alarmed. She stopped for a moment by her favourite, Orla, a chestnut mare who nudged her shoulder affectionately. She stroked the mare’s mane, whispering a quiet apology for not taking her out tonight. Orla would understand; this wasn’t a night for riding.
Moving to the back corner of the stable, she crouched down and brushed away the loose straw to reveal a wooden panel in the wall. With a soft grunt, she pried it loose, the way she had done so many times before. This was her secret—a gap that led to the fields beyond the palace grounds. Not even her personal guards knew about it. She had discovered it as a young girl, slipping through the hole in search of adventure when the confines of the palace walls grew too small.
Now, that same urge pulled her through the narrow opening, but it wasn’t adventure she sought—it was escape. The cold air hit her face as she emerged on the other side, the smell of grass and earth filling her lungs. For the first time all night, she felt like she could breathe.
The field stretched out in front of her, wide and dark under the night sky. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow on the tall grass that swayed gently in the breeze. She pulled her hood over her head, hiding her most definitely recognisable hair, and stepped forward. The ground was uneven beneath her feet, the soft squelch of mud and grass a welcome contrast to the polished marble floors of the palace.
As she walked, the palace grew smaller behind her, its golden lights dimming until it was just a distant glow on the horizon. She paused for a moment, turning back to look at it—a fortress of expectations and responsibilities. It felt strange to see it from here, like it was part of someone else’s life. Someone who wasn’t her.
Turning away, she continued across the field, when she saw it. A karting track lay just beyond the hill, the faint hum of engines already audible in the distance. She had heard the sounds many times before while sneaking out but had never been, the laughter and cheers carried on the wind, but had never dared to go closer. Tonight, though, something was different. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the desire to feel something other than the heavy weight of duty. She wasn’t sure. But tonight, she would go. She would see what it was like to be just... normal.
The lights of the track grew brighter as she crested the hill. From here, she could see the racers whizzing by in small go-karts, their faces blurred by speed and excitement. A group of people stood by the sidelines, watching, some laughing, some leaning against the fence with drinks in hand. It was a world apart from hers, and yet it called to her.
She lingered at the edge of the track, keeping her hood pulled low as she observed. No one paid her any attention, and that in itself was a relief. She wasn’t a princess here. She was just another person, another face in the crowd. The knot in her chest loosened slightly, the familiar ache of expectation easing.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice someone approaching until a voice broke through the hum of engines.
“First time?”
Startled, she turned to see a man standing beside her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He had a relaxed posture, his expression open and friendly, like talking to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world, but he too had a hoodie fully covering his face. His eyes were bright, but not with recognition. There was no flicker of surprise, no hint that he knew who she was. Just casual curiosity.
“Uh… yeah,” she replied, her voice hesitant. She tugged her hood a little lower, instinctively trying to hide.
The guy turned around and she could see his face properly, he was gorgeous as he smiled at her, a lopsided grin that was both easygoing and warm. “It’s fun,” he said, nodding towards the track. “You should try it.”
“I’m not really dressed for it,” She said, glancing down at her boots. They were sturdy but far from practical for something like this.
He shrugged, still smiling. “Doesn’t matter. Half the people out there don’t know what they’re doing either. It’s just for fun.” He paused, then added, “I’m Max, by the way.”
His name hung in the air for a moment, simple and unassuming. He didn’t ask for hers, didn’t press. It felt strange—refreshing, even. No titles, no formalities. Just... Max.
She hesitated, glancing at the track. The racers zoomed by, their shouts of excitement echoing in the cool night air. For a moment, she could almost imagine what it would feel like—no duties, no one watching, just speed and laughter. It was tempting. More tempting than she wanted to admit.
“I don’t know...” she started, but her words trailed off as Max leaned casually against the fence beside her, his posture easy and unbothered.
“No pressure,” he said, with a shrug that was so natural it almost made her laugh. “You can just watch if you want. But trust me, once you try it, you won’t want to stop.”
She looked at him, studying the relaxed set of his shoulders, the comfortable way he seemed to fit into this world. He didn’t have that tight, rigid way of standing that she saw in the palace—where everyone was always conscious of how they looked, of what others thought of them. Max was... easy. Uncomplicated.
It was such a stark contrast to the world she’d just left behind.
“Is it always like this?” she asked, her voice softer now, more curious than hesitant.
Max turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Just... fun.” She felt a little silly asking, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.
Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Depends on who you ask. Some people get real competitive out here, but for most of us? Yeah, it’s just a way to blow off steam. No big deal.” He glanced at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes now, though still no recognition. “You from around here? Never seen you at the track before.”
Her heart skipped a beat. For a second, she almost blurted out the truth, but the words caught in her throat. No, I’m not from here felt too close to I’m the princess of this country, and she wasn’t ready to give up her anonymity yet. Not here. Not when it felt so good to be invisible.
“I don’t get out much,” she said, keeping her answer vague. It wasn’t technically a lie.
“Figured,” Max said with a teasing grin. “You’ve got that ‘I’m-too-good-for-this-place’ look about you.”
She blinked, then laughed, the sound surprising even to her. It wasn’t the forced, polite laughter she had perfected for royal gatherings. This was real—spontaneous, like the feeling of breaking the surface after holding your breath for too long.
Max grinned wider at her reaction. “See? Already starting to loosen up.”
She shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She liked this—liked how easy it was to talk to him, how he had no idea who she was and didn’t seem to care. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could just... be.
“I guess I could give it a try,” she said after a moment, surprising herself with her own words.
Max’s eyes lit up. “That’s the spirit! Come on, I’ll show you how it works.”
He led her towards the pit area, where a few go-karts sat idle, waiting for the next round. Her pulse quickened as they approached. The karts looked small, but the thought of actually getting in one and racing felt exhilarating—and a little terrifying. She had never done anything like this before. Her life was too controlled, too polished. But here, surrounded by the hum of engines and the laughter of people who didn’t care about titles or status, it was easy to forget all that.
Max handed her a helmet. “Here, put this on. And don’t worry—everyone’s a little nervous their first time. Once you get going, it’s a blast.”
She took the helmet, her fingers brushing against the cool surface. For a moment, she hesitated, the weight of her real life lingering at the back of her mind. But then she thought of the palace, of the endless duties and expectations that would be waiting for her when she returned. Tonight, she didn’t want to be a Princess. She wanted to be someone else. Even if it was just for a little while.
Slipping the helmet on, she pulled the strap tight and climbed into the kart. It felt strange, sitting so low to the ground, the engine rumbling beneath her like a living thing. Max knelt beside her, adjusting a few straps and showing her the pedals. His voice was calm, instructive, and for the first time in a long while, someone was teaching her something without being stiff or overly formal. She liked it.
“Alright,” Max said, standing up and giving her a thumbs up. “You’re all set. Just take it easy on the first lap—get used to the feel of it. After that, let loose.”
She nodded, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Her heart pounded in her chest as the flag waved and the others sped off, leaving her sitting still for a beat longer. But then she pressed down on the gas pedal, and the kart jerked forward, the wind rushing past her face.
At first, she was cautious, her fingers gripping the wheel tightly as the kart bumped along the track. But as she rounded the first corner and the engine roared, a spark lit inside her. The fear melted away, replaced by a thrill she hadn’t expected. The sensation of speed, of being in control of something that moved so fast—it was intoxicating.
She leaned into the next turn, feeling the kart glide smoothly along the curve, the tension in her shoulders easing. The wind whipped against her face, but she didn’t care. She laughed—loud and unrestrained, the sound swallowed by the night. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free, so... alive.
Max was right. Once you started, it was hard to stop.
When she finally pulled back into the pit area, her heart was still racing, her breath coming in quick bursts. Max was waiting for her, his grin wide and approving.
“Well?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the fence. “Not bad for a first-timer.”
She took off her helmet, her hair wild and her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t care. “That was... amazing,” she admitted, unable to stop smiling.
“See?” Max said, laughing. “Told you.”
For a moment, standing there with the wind still rushing through her hair and her body buzzing from the ride, she forgot who she was. She wasn’t the princess here. She wasn’t responsible for the weight of an entire country. She was just a girl, laughing at a racetrack with a guy who didn’t know her, and it felt... perfect.
She leaned against the kart for a moment, still catching her breath. Her pulse was racing, and not just from the speed. She couldn’t shake the pure, unfiltered exhilaration that had coursed through her veins. The feeling of freedom, of shedding the weight of expectations, even if only for a short time, was unlike anything she had felt in years.
Max was watching her with a casual smile, clearly amused by the joy lighting up her face. She caught her breath, realising how utterly at ease he seemed, as though this was his world and everyone else was just passing through it.
“Not bad, right?” he said, his voice still warm and relaxed.
“Not bad?” she laughed softly, shaking her head. “That was... incredible. I didn’t know something so simple could feel that good.”
“Simple?” Max grinned, looking genuinely entertained. “You’ve never been karting before, huh?”
She shook her head, wiping a loose strand of hair from her face. “No. Never.”
He leaned closer, his expression still friendly but with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “You really don’t get out much, do you?”
The question was casual, but it hit closer to home than she cared to admit. She shrugged it off, pulling her hood back over her head, as though it would somehow shield her from further questions.
“I guess not,” she said, her voice softer now.
Max nodded, seeming to accept that without prying. “Well, if you liked that, you’d probably love a real race. You ever watch Formula One?”
The mention of Formula One caught her off guard, and she shook her head. “No... not really my thing.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Really? You don’t even know any of the drivers?”
She could only smile awkwardly, realising that she had no idea how big of a deal Formula One was, let alone the names involved in it. “Nope. Can’t say I do.”
Max let out a soft laugh, as though the idea of someone not knowing about Formula One was a little unbelievable, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he smiled again, more to himself this time, and shrugged. “That’s refreshing, actually. You’re not missing much, anyway,” he added with a wink, making it sound like an inside joke she didn’t quite understand.
Just as she was about to respond, the faint chime of a clock echoed in the distance. It was so far away, nearly drowned out by the hum of engines, but it pierced through her, pulling her back to reality. She froze for a moment, the fun of the evening abruptly replaced by the realisation of what time it was.
“Oh no,” she muttered, standing up straight and glancing toward the palace grounds, hidden behind the field and trees.
“What?” Max asked, his brow furrowed.
She gave him a tight smile. “I should probably go. It’s... getting late.” She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. But she knew she had to.
Max studied her for a moment, his playful grin fading into something softer. “You sure? I can walk you back if you want.”
The offer was kind, but the last thing she needed was Max seeing the palace guards and connecting the dots. She could only imagine how complicated things would get if he found out who she really was. She shook her head quickly, hoping her refusal didn’t seem rude.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Really.”
Max didn’t press, though something in his eyes told her he was still curious. “Alright,” he said with a small nod. “But hey, I’m gonna be in town for the next two weeks, so if you feel like sneaking out again, I’ll be here. Same time, same place.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. The idea of doing this again—of stepping back into this world where no one knew her, where she could just be—was more tempting than it should have been. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her voice soft but genuine.
She turned to leave, feeling the cool night air brush against her skin, but something made her glance back. Max was watching her, leaning casually against the kart with that easy smile, as though none of this was out of the ordinary. It was strange how comfortable she felt with him—a stranger—and how much she didn’t want to go.
“See you around, stranger,” Max called after her, his tone playful but sincere.
She gave him one last wave before heading back across the field, the lights of the track slowly fading behind her. The palace loomed ahead, a reminder of everything she had to return to—her responsibilities, her duties, her carefully controlled life. But even as she slipped through the hidden passage in the stables, the thrill of the night lingered, like a secret she carried with her.
Once inside the palace walls, she moved quickly, keeping to the shadows. Her heart was still racing, but now it was from the fear of getting caught. She slipped back into her room unnoticed, quietly closing the heavy door behind her. For a moment, she stood there in the silence, the warmth and grandeur of her surroundings feeling strangely suffocating after the openness of the track.
Kicking off her boots, she padded to the window, pulling aside the heavy velvet curtain to look out over the darkened palace grounds. The karting track wasn’t visible from here, but she could still imagine it, hear the hum of the engines, and feel the wind on her face. She hadn’t felt so alive in years.
As she changed into her pyjamas and prepared for bed, her mind kept drifting back to Max. The way he had spoken to her so easily, without hesitation, without any of the reverence or caution people usually showed her. It felt like they were equals. No expectations, no carefully chosen words. He had no idea who she was. And she hadn’t known him, either.
The following evening, she sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection. Her hair was pinned perfectly, her skin glowing under the soft light of the chandelier. But all she could think about was the wind in her hair, the roar of engines, and the unfamiliar freedom she had tasted the night before.
She was expected at dinner in an hour, a formal affair with visiting dignitaries—yet another night of forced smiles, stifling conversations, and the suffocating weight of being a Princess. The thought of sitting through it made her chest tighten with the same anxiety she’d felt the previous night. She couldn’t do it, not tonight.
Her heart raced as she made her decision. She needed to feel that freedom again.
Standing up, she walked toward her door and opened it just enough to see the palace corridors beyond. Quiet. Perfect. She padded down the hallway to her parents’ private chamber and knocked softly.
Her mother’s voice answered from inside, “Come in.”
She entered, finding her mother seated at a desk, reviewing documents. The Queen looked up with a warm but distracted smile.
“Hello darling. Ready for dinner?”
She hesitated for just a second, but her face betrayed nothing. “Actually, Mother,” she said softly, “I’m not feeling well. I think I might be coming down with something.”
Concern flickered across her mother’s features. “Oh no, my dear. Is it serious? Should I send for the royal physician?”
She quickly shook her head, her heart pounding as she forced a smile. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. I think I just need to rest. A quiet evening in my room should help.” She tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping her mother wouldn’t press further.
The Queen studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Take care of yourself, darling. You can join us tomorrow.”
“I will,” she promised, relieved that it had been so easy. She gave her mother a small smile before excusing herself from the room, and the moment the door was closed, her heart began to race for an entirely different reason.
She wasn’t going to her room. She was going back to the track.
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was once again slipping through the hidden gap in the stable wall, her pulse quickening with every step she took away from the palace. The familiar field stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight, and the sound of distant engines filled the air as she drew closer to the track.
A thrill surged through her. She hadn’t felt this kind of anticipation in so long—years, maybe. As she crested the hill, the track came into view, the floodlights illuminating the karts zooming around the circuit. Laughter and shouts echoed in the night, and there, standing by the fence again, was Max.
He hadn’t seen her yet, but something about the sight of him—so at ease, so comfortable in this world—made her heart race. For a moment, she stood still, wondering if this was a terrible idea. But then Max turned his head and spotted her. His face lit up immediately, and before she could second-guess herself, he was walking toward her.
“You came back,” he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and a hint of surprise.
Before she could respond, Max pulled her into a quick, unexpected hug. It caught her off guard, but the gesture was so natural, so friendly, that she relaxed into it. It wasn’t formal or calculated like the stiff embraces she was used to. It was warm, real, and surprisingly grounding.
“I’m glad you came,” Max said as he pulled back, his smile still wide. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
She smiled, a little breathless from his easy affection. “I wasn’t sure either,” she admitted, though a part of her had known she would return the moment she’d left the night before.
Max gave a playful shake of his head, as if amused by her uncertainty. “Well, you’re here now, so I’ve got something for you.”
“For me?” She blinked, confused.
Without a word, Max walked over to a nearby bench where his gear was piled, rummaging through the bag until he pulled out a sleek black helmet. It gleamed under the track lights, the design simple but stylish. He turned and handed it to her, a grin tugging at his lips.
“For next time,” he said. “Consider it a welcome-back gift.”
She stared at the helmet, her fingers brushing over its surface. It felt substantial in her hands, the weight of it unexpected. “This is... for me?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded, his expression softening. “I thought you might like your own, since it seems like you’re gonna be coming back more often.” He paused, glancing at her. “Unless you’re planning to disappear?”
She felt warmth rise in her chest. The idea that Max had thought about her after last night—enough to get her a gift—was strangely touching. She didn’t know what to say at first, only that her heart was doing a strange, excited dance in her chest.
“No disappearing,” she said with a small smile. “At least, not yet.”
Max’s grin widened. “Good. Because I think you’re a natural at this. You belong out here.”
The words struck something deep inside her. Belong. She wasn’t sure where she belonged anymore, but for the first time, standing here with Max, holding a helmet meant just for her, she felt a flicker of that feeling—like maybe she did belong somewhere outside the palace walls.
She turned the helmet over in her hands, then looked up at him. “Thank you. Really.”
Max shrugged, the gesture so casual it made her smile. “It’s just a helmet. But hey, now you’ll have no excuse to not race me next time.”
The princess laughed softly, shaking her head. “I think you’d have a pretty big advantage.”
Max winked. “Maybe. But who knows, you might surprise me.”
They stood there for a moment, the sound of engines and laughter filling the space between them. She clutched the helmet a little tighter, feeling the pull to stay here with him, to keep being this version of herself. But she knew she couldn’t stay long—not tonight. There would be questions if anyone realised she hadn’t been in her room all evening.
She stared at the helmet in her hands, her fingers tracing the smooth curve of the visor. Something about the gesture—Max giving her something that was entirely hers, something from this world—made her feel bolder than before. Maybe it was the way he had smiled at her, or the fact that she didn’t have to be anyone other than herself around him. Whatever it was, a playful spark ignited inside her.
She looked up at Max, who was watching her with that easy grin, clearly amused by the way she was studying the helmet. Without thinking too much about it, she raised her chin and asked, “How about that race, then?”
Max blinked, surprised, then his grin widened. “You serious?”
She shrugged, her smile growing. “Why not? You said I’m a natural, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean that natural,” he said, laughing softly. “You sure you’re ready to take me on?”
The challenge in his voice only fueled her. She had tasted the thrill of the track last night, and now, with the helmet in her hands, the idea of racing Max—even if she was far from a professional—was too tempting to resist.
“I’m sure,” she said firmly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Unless you’re scared you’ll lose.”
Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, princess,” he teased, the nickname rolling off his tongue in a playful, light-hearted way that made her grin. He didn’t know how close to the truth that was. And while it would usually make her panic, it was clear he didn’t know who she was. “Let’s do it.”
She felt a rush of adrenaline as she followed him over to the karts. Max helped her adjust the helmet and get settled in the driver’s seat. The moment she gripped the steering wheel, that same electric thrill from last night returned, only now, it was heightened by the fact that she was about to race him.
Max hopped into his kart, giving her a wink from across the track. “Alright,” he called, his voice muffled by his own helmet, “just remember, it’s all about control, not speed. Don’t push it too hard.”
She nodded, her heart pounding as the engines roared to life around them. The buzz of excitement in the air was contagious, and she found herself gripping the wheel tighter, anticipation humming through her veins.
“Ready?” Max shouted over the noise.
“Ready!” she called back, her voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement.
With a sharp rev of the engine, they were off.
The first few moments were a blur of motion and sound. She felt the kart lurch forward, the wind whipping against her as she sped down the track. Her nerves spiked, but she quickly remembered Max’s words—control, not speed. She focused on keeping steady, her hands firm on the wheel as she navigated the turns.
Max was ahead, of course, but she could see him glancing over his shoulder, slowing down just enough to let her keep pace. She knew he was going easy on her, but she didn’t mind. The thrill of racing him—of racing anyone—was more than enough to make her feel like she was flying.
The world around her blurred into a mix of bright lights and the roar of engines. For the second time in her life, she wasn’t thinking about the palace, her duties, or the expectations that constantly weighed her down. It was just her, the kart, the track, and the rush of adrenaline surging through her veins.
Max pulled ahead slightly as they rounded a sharp corner, but she was right behind him, her competitive spirit kicking in. She leaned into the turn, feeling the kart respond beneath her, and for a brief moment, she let herself push just a little harder.
She caught up with him, and when he looked back, his eyes met hers through their visors. There was a flicker of something—surprise, maybe, or pride. He grinned, then slowed again, letting her pass him just before they hit the final straightaway.
She laughed, the sound muffled by her helmet but still filled with pure, unfiltered joy. She knew he was letting her win, but the thrill of it was real, and she couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride as she crossed the makeshift finish line.
She slowed to a stop, pulling off the steering wheel as she’d seen Max do, her laughter bubbled over. Max pulled up beside her, his own helmet off, his face lit up with a grin.
“Well, look at you,” he said, hopping out of his kart and walking over to her. “You actually made me work for it.”
She climbed out, still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You’re lying. You let me win.”
Max shrugged, clearly not about to deny it. “Maybe I did,” he said, smirking. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you were pretty good out there.”
She beamed at the compliment, still riding the high of the race. “That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
Max leaned back against the fence, watching her with an easy smile. “Yeah, it’s a rush. You looked like you were having the time of your life.”
“I was,” she admitted, her voice softer now. She hadn’t felt this free, this alive, in... well, she couldn’t even remember. “I really was.”
Max’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes studying her for a moment, as if he could sense there was more beneath her words. But he didn’t push. Instead, he smiled and got close to her, pulling up her visor so he could see her eyes better.
She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“We’ll see.” He winked, leaning back on the kart again, clearly in no rush to leave. “So, you coming back tomorrow?”
Her heart skipped at the idea. “Maybe,” she said, feeling the tug of responsibility from the palace, but also the undeniable pull to return here—to this track, to Max, and to the freedom she had only just started to discover.
“I’ll be here,” Max said, giving her that same playful smile as the night before. “Same time, same place.”
She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. “I’ll think about it.”
As they stood there, the night air cool against her skin, she felt something shift inside her. For the first time in a long time, she had something to look forward to—something that wasn’t bound by duty or expectation. She had this—this world, this track, this chance to be someone else, even if just for a little while.
And as she walked away, the helmet tucked under her arm, she knew she’d be back. How could she not?
Her pulse was still racing as she slipped through the gap in the stable wall, her heart light with the thrill of the night’s race. The cold night air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She hadn’t felt this alive in years—her mind still buzzing with the memory of the wind whipping past her as she sped around the track, Max’s teasing grin as he let her take the lead, and the helmet now tucked securely under her arm.
She quietly crossed the stable yard, the moon casting long shadows over the cobblestones. The palace was still, its lights dimmed, as if it, too, was resting from its heavy burdens. She let out a breath of relief, thinking she’d made it back undetected.
But as she rounded the last corner towards the servant’s door leading into the palace, a figure stepped out of the shadows.
She froze, her heart plummeting to her stomach.
“Princess,” came a low voice, steady and unmistakable.
Her personal guard, Lukas, stood there with his arms crossed, his expression stern but not angry. The tall man’s silhouette was familiar—broad-shouldered, dressed in his midnight-blue uniform, with the polished silver crest of the royal family gleaming faintly in the moonlight. He had been her personal protector for years, and though he had always been professional, there was a softer side to Lukas that she had come to trust.
She swallowed hard, her mind racing for an excuse. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone, much less Lukas. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words stuck in her throat.
Lukas stepped forward, his sharp gaze landing on the helmet tucked under her arm. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, she feared he might drag her straight to the King and Queen.
Instead, he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Out racing, were we?” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the disapproval in his tone.
She winced, shifting uncomfortably. “I... I just needed to get out for a while,” she admitted, her voice small, but she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. Even now, standing in front of Lukas, knowing she was about to get a lecture, she couldn’t help but feel a lingering joy from the night.
Lukas’s sharp eyes softened as he took in her expression—the light in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks. He sighed again, longer this time, and his shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Your Highness,” he muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. Then he looked back at her, his tone a little gentler. “You can’t keep sneaking out like this. It’s dangerous. If the King or Queen found out...”
She bit her lip, feeling the weight of his words, but the exhilaration of the night was still thrumming beneath her skin. “I know, Lukas,” she said softly, her smile faltering for the first time. “But... just for a little while, I needed to be something other than...” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but Lukas understood.
“Other than the princess,” he finished for her, his tone quieter now.
She nodded, her eyes dropping to the helmet in her arms. “I just... It felt so good. No one recognised me. No expectations. I was just... me.”
Lukas studied her for a long moment, his stern expression softening further. He had been by her side long enough to understand how heavy the crown weighed on her, even though she wasn’t Queen yet. He saw it in the way she carried herself, always poised, always controlled. But now, standing here in the moonlight, he saw something else—something he hadn’t seen in her for a long time. Happiness.
Another sigh escaped his lips, and this time it was more resigned. Without a word, he reached out and gently took the helmet from her arms. She watched, surprised, as Lukas examined it for a moment, running his thumb over the smooth surface. Then he looked up at her, his voice firm but not unkind.
“I’ll cover for you tonight,” he said quietly. “If anyone asks, you’ve been in your room since before dinner. But,” he added, fixing her with a pointed look, “you absolutely cannot sneak out again. Not this week, not ever—not like this. It’s too risky. Do you understand?”
Her heart swelled with a mixture of relief and guilt. She had expected anger, a stern reprimand, maybe even being dragged straight to her parents. But Lukas’s understanding, his willingness to protect her, caught her off guard.
“I understand,” she said softly, grateful. “Thank you, Lukas. I— I’m sorry.”
Lukas’s expression softened even more, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’ve watched you grow up. I know what this life asks of you. But you need to be careful, princess. You can’t take these kinds of risks.”
She nodded, her throat tight. “I won’t. I promise.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them easing. Then Lukas glanced down at the helmet again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re getting into some interesting hobbies, Your Highness. Kart racing, huh?”
She grinned, a small laugh escaping her. “It’s... different,” she admitted. “But I love it.”
“I can see that,” Lukas said with a rare hint of amusement in his voice. “Just—if you’re going to be tearing around tracks at night, maybe let me know first. That way I won’t have to worry about losing you to some street racer.”
Her eyes widened, her heart skipping at the thought of Lukas discovering who she had been racing with. She quickly shook her head, laughing nervously. “No street racers,” she said. “Just... fun.”
Lukas gave her a knowing look, but he didn’t push. Instead, he held up the helmet and gestured toward the stable door. “Go on. Get inside before someone else spots you.”
She nodded, stepping past him, but before she could go, Lukas added, “I’ll keep this for now,” referring to the helmet in his hand. “Safer that way. I’ll give it back to you when it’s... less suspicious.”
She smiled, grateful. “Thank you, Lukas.”
Lukas just gave a small nod, watching as she slipped through the door into the palace, her heart still pounding with the remnants of the night’s excitement.
As she quietly made her way back to her room, she couldn’t help but smile. She had managed to keep her secret—thanks to Lukas—and despite the risks, she didn’t regret a moment of it. The track, Max, the rush of the race—it was all worth it.
But she knew Lukas was right. She couldn’t keep sneaking out like this. Not without being more careful. Yet even as she crawled into bed, the memory of the night’s freedom stayed with her, lingering like the glow of the moon outside her window.And as her eyes drifted closed, a small, rebellious thought crossed her mind: Maybe just one more race.
part two
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
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have a bonfire - send a character + a trope (one bed, fake dating, etc.) and I’ll write a drabble
AHHHHH CONGRATS CONGRATS CONGRATS
how about like secret royalty, like very princess diaries-esque, with sirius???? he's basically royalty anyway, so either him or reader suddenly entering his world would be so cute
Thanks lovely <3
prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.2k words
With the early arrival of the visiting king, the uproar the palace (You’re actually not sure what you’re supposed to call this place. Castle? Mansion? Home? (You really hope you’re not supposed to call it home, that seems awfully quick.)) has been in since your arrival triples in severity. Your grandmother completely disappears, the nice older man who’s been showing you around goes with her, and when no one wants to take on the problem of the new and completely untrained princess, you’re shooed into the nearest sitting room to wait things out. 
“Well, this has to have been a mistake.”
You give a start, turning in place to find a young man stretched out like a cat on a settee by the window. He has longish, dark hair that spills like ink over the green upholstery and cunning eyes that are narrowed curiously on you despite his disinterested countenance.
“Or I suppose maybe your team’s just stashed you here the same way my father’s stashed me,” he says, and the voice that emerges from that small, pretty mouth is just as smooth he looks like it would be, self-assured and infused with an accent that speaks to a privileged upbringing. “I don’t imagine they’d like knowing their new pet is cavorting with her equals so early on.” An untrustworthy smile curves his lips. “Could be fun. Should we ring for food?” 
You have half a dozen questions, but what makes it out is, “Pet?” 
The boy tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. “You’re an unhousebroken puppy, sweetheart.” His eyes dip to the dress they’d put you in this morning, skimming their way back up to your face and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “A very pretty one, but as far as royals are concerned, an embarrassment. From what I hear, that’s hardly your fault, though.” 
You sit a cautious distance away from him, on a parallel couch. The afternoon sunlight spills over the top of his settee and hits your eyes, but you bear it rather than move. 
A week ago, a couple of days even, you wouldn’t have been able to make eye contact with someone like this. But though this boy is prettier and speaks more brashly than nearly anyone you’ve come across, you’ve grown remarkably used to novelty since being sat down in front of relatives you didn’t know to be told that you were heir to a country you’d never heard of. One upside to the chaos of the last few days is, you suppose, it might be making you braver. 
“Who are you?” you ask. 
“Oh, my god.” He smiles, seemingly delighted. “You really are brand new, aren’t you? I’m not trying to sound arrogant,” he says at your flustered look, “it’s just we’re usually trained to know important people before we ever meet them. It’s not every day I come upon someone who actually has no idea who I am.” 
A little laugh trips off your tongue. You tell him, “You’re not making your not-arrogant point very well.”
“Well, I never said I wasn’t arrogant.” That dastardly grin again, slicing across his face like a weapon. “I said I didn’t want to sound arrogant. I’ve been told it doesn’t make a very polite first impression.” He stands, graceful limbs unfurling, and starts for the door. “I’m Sirius. Are you hungry?” 
You nod dazedly as he crosses the room, and it’s only then that you realize he’s wearing a suit. Or, parts of one. The jacket and tie have been cast off, hung over the arm of the settee, but he’s still wearing the pants (thank god) and a dress shirt that appears blue in the light but otherwise is so dark it might be black. 
Sirius opens the door, murmuring to someone outside. When he’s done, he heads for you instead of the settee. Kicks his shoes off and settles in across from you, legs crossed underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. You decide to follow suit, turning to face him and trusting the length of your dress to protect you from scandal as you tent your knees in front of you. 
“That’s better,” Sirius says, and his eyes look different with the light cutting across them. Before, they’d been in shadow, but now they’re the color of heavy clouds, a faint bluish hue brought out by his dress shirt. “You looked stunning with the light on your face, but you’re even lovelier when you’re not squinting. I asked for someone to bring us chicken nuggets, is that alright? You’re not vegetarian, are you?” 
You’re surprised at the choice, but that quickly gives way to relief. You feel a smile tugging at your lips at the banal normalcy of it. After the five-course dinner you’d had the night before that had tormented your unrefined stomach for hours afterwards, chicken nuggets sound like a dream. 
“That’s good,” you reply, and Sirius returns your smile with feeling. “Who were you talking to out there?” 
“A member of my detail is just outside the door,” he explains airily, as if security details are something everyone has and talks about on a routine basis. Your astonishment must show on your face, because he raises a slender eyebrow. “You don’t have one? I suppose not every kingdom does. Or, if you haven’t left the palace, you might not have met yours yet.” 
“You said your name was Sirius.” 
“I did.” 
“But you didn’t say your last name.” 
Sirius’ lips twist wryly. “I did not.” 
Maybe it’s his own audacious manner, but you feel like you can be straightforward with him. “Why not?” 
He shrugs and lists sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch. “Maybe I’m still enjoying the novelty of you. I don’t often get to talk to people without all the genteel manners and button-up-ed-ness.” 
You tilt your head. “You’re one of the Black family, aren’t you?” 
Sirius nods, looking unsurprised you’ve figured it out. It’s obvious he’s royal, so it really wasn’t that far a leap. He doesn’t look like any of the family you’ve met so far, and the only other royals are the ones visiting.
“So does that make you the king’s son?” 
“There are two of us, actually.” He mirrors you, tilting his head so it’s resting against the couch. “But I’m the oldest, so I get to go on all the fun trips.” 
You feel your lips twist again. “Yeah, you seem like you’re having a blast.” 
“Oh, let there be no misunderstanding, doll.” He straightens, looking you in the eye. It feels like being under a spotlight, and it’s all you can do not to look away. Sirius grins. “This is my fun face. I’m having a far better time with you than I have at any of these things in years.” 
“Oh.” You can’t help it now, and your gaze flees down to the skirt of your dress. You take a bit of the fabric between your fingers, distracting yourself with the extraordinary silkiness of it. “Well, happy to help. Maybe while your family is here our paths will cross again.” 
You look up, and his expression has softened into something nearing genuine. “I’ll be sure that they do,” he says.
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rachalixie · 1 year ago
Text
forgive me for what i haven't done
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summary: you arrive at your enemy's kingdom under the guise of making peace. the prince being nice to you wasn't part of the plan.
genre: strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort
warnings: she/her reader, reader's father is emotionally manipulative and physically harms her, mentions of violence
word count: 17.5k
a/n: absolute massive thank you to @sulfurcosmos, @isilentprincess, and @woahfruity for reading this through and giving me your honest feedback. i truly appreciate you <3 this fic has sent me through the five stages of grief.
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you can’t ignore the bruising grip your father has on your arm as he walks you to the steps of the large palace. the journey here was a mere two hours, but it feels like this palace was built out of another world altogether. it’s shorter than your own, absent are the dull reaching peaks and towers of your home, traded for warm bricks covered in snaking ivy and the shining sun peeking through powdery clouds. where it lacks in height, it makes up for in its expanse. the building was wider than any you’ve ever seen. 
it was more beautiful than any building you’ve ever seen, too. 
you hope your nerves don’t show as you throw one last glance back at the carriage you arrived in; it would soon take away your handmaidens that had made the journey with you, and you wouldn’t see them again until you went home. it makes your heart ache that the only people you felt comfortable with were leaving you behind. you try and focus on the present instead, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would get you nowhere. you had hours of meeting strangers ahead of you, making polite small talk with them and learning whatever information you could about the royal family until you could go to bed and be upset in private. you weren’t here for pleasure anyways, your father had reminded you as the carriage had pulled in. you were here for a reason.
the first person you make eyes with is the king, a kind looking man, hair and beard speckled with gray and a soft smile on his face as he takes in his visitors. he had invited you and your father here, a gesture of goodwill, an unspoken plea for peace between your two kingdoms. 
“they want peace,” your father had scoffed, throwing the letter from the neighboring king to his desk. you watched as it slid off and fluttered to the floor. “the scum that killed your grandfather want peace, and they dare ask me to negotiate a treaty with them.”
“well,” you started, swallowing down your nerves like you did every time you spoke to your father. since your mother passed, all those years ago, you had taken over the role of his confidant, like he did with her. though, he never listened to your advice when you gave it; you were simply a body for him to talk at, to pour out his grief and frustration out on. “did the king not overthrow his own father? he is not the man that hurt our family, and i assume neither are his sons. can we not let the past stay in the past?”
the two kingdoms are small - a unity between you would open opportunities for new trading, allies in battle, new paths to resources that your people don’t see.
“their bloodline is rotten,” he says, definitive. “i would be doing the world a service by ridding it of their pitiful existence.”
his words of extremity did not surprise you; he spoke of all of the neighboring kingdoms in this way. he was not one for alliances, keeping the borders of his territory locked to outsiders, deeming them not fit to enter his kingdom. you can barely remember a time when foreigners or immigrants inhabited the now barren lands.
“and the people in their kingdom?” you question. “they are truly innocent. will they be given refuge here once their kingdom has fallen?”
“i do not care!” he spits out at you, eyes burning in anger, and you shrink back a little. “they will burn along with their miserable rulers. i will find a way to take them down, all of them, to make them pay for what they did to my family. and you, gods help me, will do as i say.”
and you would. in truth, you had barely even considered going against him. you were alone, you had no options other than following through with his wishes, no escape from him and his cruelty. you had nowhere to go that he would not find you. and yet, he remained vexed as he moved closer to you, speaking quietly in a manner that was more terrifying than if he was yelling at you. his fingers curl around your upper arm, like a warning-
“welcome,” the king’s voice breaks you out of your memory, and you muster up a smile for him. “thank you for making the journey here. and please, call me stephen. you are esteemed guests here, no need for formalities.”
your father doesn’t offer the same notion back, nodding coldly at your side. king stephen furrows his brow for a moment, and it’s clear on his face that he’s caught off guard. so expressive for a royal, you muse as he shakes his head and the smile returns to his face.
“my sons,” stephen gestures to the boys standing by his side, the ones you had yet to lay your eyes on. “crowned prince christopher, his betrothed, the lady roseanne, and our youngest, felix.”
betrothed? you did not know the older son was engaged. this complicates things. you can feel the anger coming off in waves from your father, and you place your hand on his forearm for a moment. not now, please, you mentally beg, and you almost sigh in relief when the tension leaves his body, turning your attention to the two royals in front of you.
the taller of the two dons a mop of curly hair under his circlet, cleanly pressed clothes shining with the royal blue of their family. a striking woman is at his side, an arm loosely curled around his. as he moves forward to greet your father, linking arms like the king had, your attention is drawn to the boy left standing alone. 
the shorter boy is what you can only describe as ethereal. his features are sharp in all the right places, smoothed out by soft planes and dips covered in starlight scattered freckles. his clothes are similar to that of his brother’s, but no crown adorns his head. 
he might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. it makes your knees weak. 
“i am felix,” he says, his voice deeper than you would expect from the gentle features of his face. he dips his head a bit, a sign of respect, as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to the back of it. your voice is steady when you respond with your own name, and you’re glad for it. 
his attention is diverted when your father’s hand lands on your shoulder, his touch more gentle than it ever is whilst away from prying eyes. 
“my daughter, princess y/n,” he announces, a proud smug on his face when you shyly curtsey. he must think your timidness is a ploy to get their trust, and not as a result of the raging nervousness boiling under your skin. 
“it’s an honor to meet you, your highnesses,” you meet each of their eyes, looking for any sign of malice, but you find none.
“come inside, please,” the king beckons, and the circle of knights that had been flanking him move aside gracefully to make way to the tall archway leading inside the palace. you’re once again taken away by the beautiful architecture inside, melting candles lining the walls made of warm brick. “we will begin the peace talks tomorrow, spend the day settling from your journey.”
“we will go freshen up,” your father states, cutting your exploration short with a poorly concealed fake smile donning his face. you hope no one else can see through him the way you can. “and we will meet you for dinner?”
he doesn’t wait until the king answers before he pulls you off to a hallway, beckoning over a servant and barking at him to show you both to your chambers. you pray to the gods that your hosts see your father’s unorthodox behavior as a difference in customs, rather than rudeness. the servant looks flustered, eyes wide as he directs you to your adjoined chambers, and you almost feel bad for him. you’re sure he can tell when your father’s anger returns, getting stronger the further you walk from the royal family, and you keep your head bowed until the two of you are behind closed doors. 
he lets go of your arm harshly, almost throwing you off of him in his haste and if you weren’t so afraid you would remind him that he probably shouldn’t yell as you’re sure he was about to do.
“he is engaged?” he growls out, teeth gritted together in fury. “this was not in the intel that i was given. this does not fit into our plan!”
his plan was for you to woo the prince, get him to fall in love with you, and then to kill his father and take the throne. nevermind the extensive gaps that he didn’t care to think out, that you weren’t brave enough to tell him about. the thought of the prince not going along with the neighboring king taking over his kingdom never crossed his mind; it was either extreme hubris or immense stupidity on his part. perhaps it was both.
“will i have to marry him? the prince?” you asked, avoiding his eyes. you kept your voice as leveled as you could, but you couldn’t completely mask the apprehension you were feeling.
“you will do whatever is necessary to gain his trust. if the boy proposes, you will accept.” he said, clinical and cold like he wasn’t gambling with your life. if your father was correct, these men were murderers, men who killed others in cold blood. what would the prince do if he discovered your father’s plan? how long was he expecting you to keep up this charade?
“control yourself,” he says when he takes in the tears pricking at your eyes, the wobbling of your lips as the gravity of his words sink in. “those of our class do not weep so easily.”
“what do we do now?” you ask, regretting it almost immediately when his anger turns towards you. you had wished, foolishly so, that he may forget this revenge-fueled nonsense and let you go home. 
“i do not know, stupid girl. why do you not think of something instead of having me do everything for you?” you pray that no servants were listening in through the door, and no knights were making their patrol past the hallway. with how loud he’s speaking, there would be no hiding his ill intentions. “i thank the gods you were born a woman and i can marry you off. with how useless you are, there would be no helping my kingdom with you as a ruler.”
the words sting, your heart aches at the cold insult he’s thrown at you, but it’s not the first time he’s said something like this. it’s at the tip of your tongue to tell him that this wasn’t even your plan, that you didn’t want to betray this kingdom in the first place, that you’re tired of being his pawn in a game only he wants to play. you want to tell him that you would be a better ruler than he is if given the chance, that you almost hope for the day that he keels over and dies because you would be free of him. but you’ve learned to hold your tongue in times like this, knowing that he only says these things out of frustration; flashes of the kind man he used to be when you were younger play through your mind, calming you down as you scramble for some kind of answer. 
“i will go after the younger one,” you start, a half-baked plan forming in your head. “if king stephen and christopher are out of the way, he is next in line for the throne, is he not? we just have a couple more people to get out of the way. befriend the king, distract him and make him trust you. i will handle the prince.”
you disappointed yourself by expecting some kind of verbal affirmation, some kind of praise for doing something right, but all you get from your father is a curt nod and a gesture to leave his chambers.
a nod was better than nothing. a nod was silent assurance that you were doing something right, that he was wrong about you. that you could think for yourself. 
when you enter the hallway, you catch a glimpse of the servant from earlier peeking around the corridor. you smile at him, hoping that he had heard nothing and that your face didn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions clouding around in your head. he simply smiles back, foxy eyes crinkling and he nods at you before disappearing. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
dinner was an incredibly awkward affair; all throughout the meal, you couldn’t avoid meeting eyes with felix from where he was sitting across from you, and you flushed and looked away every time. his eyes were striking, soft browns highlighted with specks of gold reflected from the candlelight. this was the boy you were supposed to woo and manipulate, and you couldn’t even meet his eyes. gods help you.
you weren’t sure if your hosts could sense the concealed hostility in your father’s voice, but you could. he was doing a poor job of hiding his apathy, answering king stephen’s questions with short words or grunts. he eyed his food with judgment and took hesitant bites, even though you thought it was exceptionally made.
even the banquet hall itself was remarkable, banners of blue and gold hanging from the tall ceilings and plants of various kinds lining the walls. light shone down from the high windows, bathing the royals in front of you in a golden light.
“is the food not to your liking?” king stephen asked, a small frown gracing his features when he saw your father’s mostly full plate. 
“this is amazing, like nothing i have ever tasted before,” you voiced, directing the attention to yourself. your own plate was nearly scraped clean, and you might have licked it to savor the flavors if you didn’t have your royal dignity to uphold. 
your heart pounded in your chest from addressing the king so directly. 
“good, i am glad,” stephen smiled warmly at you, quelling your nerves, and his smile reached his eyes in a way your father’s hadn’t for years. “i shall make sure to send your compliments to our main cook, he was worried that the meal would not suit our guests’ tastes.”
“minho worries too much,” christopher laughs, meeting eyes with his fiancée. the way he looks at her sends warmth up your spine, like you’re witnessing kindling sparkling into a burning flame. “his cooking is the best in the entire kingdom.”
it might have turned you off that he was boasting like that if it wasn’t about someone whose status was below his. a crowned prince, giving compliments like that to a palace worker? kitchen staff, at that? it was different, for sure. 
the thought stuck with you for the rest of the night, even as your head hit your pillow at night. though you weren’t so naive to think that first impressions were indicative of their entire nature, it seems that the image of this royal family that your father painted for you might have been more skewed than you initially thought.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
while your father spent the next day with king stephen and their advisors, beginning the process of drafting and scrapping and rewriting peace treaties that you knew would never come to fruition, you were left to your own devices. venturing out of your chambers where you were bound to run into strangers was unsettling, but you pushed the feeling aside as you got dressed.
your father no doubt assumed you were jumping right into spending time gaining felix’ trust, but you didn’t know how to approach the younger prince to fulfill your part of the deal. you didn’t even know how to find him, or who to ask for his whereabouts; the sheltered walls of your home did not provide many opportunities for you to practice talking to people. 
the people here did not seem to have the same problem. wherever you turned, visiting nobles and palace staff sent you smiles, casual how are you’s and i hope you slept well’s handed out to you like spare change. it made your head spin, and the desire to retreat back into your chambers was strong.
you found your way outside instead, through an archway made of brown stone. the fresh air often helped you think. 
your casual walk allowed you to take in details that you couldn’t when you first arrived. the trees and greenery surrounding the palace were things you did not get at home, the forever winter killing off any color you longed to see. crops and livestock were held miles from the palace, outside of the reach of your vision and the invisible leash your father had kept you on, but here they thrived under the midday sun. you had a horse that you called your own, but you were only allowed to use him to travel to nearby towns on the outskirts of the palace property, right outside of the strong walls that surrounded it. none of the villagers there spoke to you past cold formalities, no matter how hard you tried, so eventually you gave up, settling for spending your time inside the castle.
here you found that you simply had to step outside of the palace walls to feel the soft grass beneath your feet, to smell the earth under your nose, to drink in the vibrant pinks and purples of the flowers in the gardens. there were so many trees, tall and strong with no walls blocking your vision of the soft foliage. you found a quiet bench under a tree, leaves and twigs decorating it’s surface from disuse, and you decided to call it your own despite having no ownership of any part of these grounds. 
no ownership yet, if your father had anything to do about it. 
you sat there for hours, drinking in the scenery as the sun made it’s path across the clear sky. you had expected boredom to creep around the edges of your mind, but it never came. the tranquility was so addictive that you found yourself back there, on that same bench, the next morning. and the next, your feet carrying you there before you were even fully awake.
“penny for your thoughts?” a deep voice disrupts your peace on that third day as a slender body sits on the bench next to you, just close enough that the warmth of his body touches your skin. you’re equal parts relieved and distressed when you see that it’s felix, and you smile at him in greeting, hoping that it didn’t come out as a grimace. this time when you meet his eyes, you make an effort to not look away.
“i do not get to see things such as this at home,” you wave your hand towards the garden, towards the birds chirping and the gentle sound of a stream bubbling. “it is beautiful. serene, you know?”
you don’t know how to act around him, and you certainly didn’t expect him to approach you. your words came out awkward, sounding unpracticed and superficial, and you try and hold back a flush from taking over your face. you hoped it wasn’t outstandingly clear how uncomfortable you were in his presence. do better than that, your father’s voice rings in your head.
“i agree,” he turns away from you, drinking in the picture-perfect view in front of you. “i am very lucky to call this place my home. what is yours like?”
“gray,” you deadpan, and the responding laugh he grants you makes your heart skip. better.
“there must be something beautiful there, it cannot just be you, right?” he says, a playful smirk tugging his lips upwards. 
“flattery will get you nowhere, my prince,” you shoot back, enjoying the moment of quick banter between the two of you before your words turned sober. “when my mother was alive, she would paint the hallways and the walls of our chambers with beautiful flowers and vines and clouds. the flowers were my favorite part, she painted them in such beautiful shades of purples and yellows. most of them have been painted over, but the ones in my chambers remain. those are my favorite part of the castle, the most beautiful things i have ever seen.” 
“i would love to see it one day,” he says, adamant and genuine as he takes your hand in his to squeeze it once before letting it go.
“maybe you could visit?” you look up at him through your lashes, a fake gesture to toy with him that left you feeling staticky and wrong. it was a complete lie - you would never subject this beautiful boy to the somberness of your home, lest it dull his brightness. even though he might not have a home soon, you push away the thought.
“only if it means i can see more of you, and not having you hide away,” he says, pointedly, though his face shows no malice. 
“it is overwhelming, for me,” you explain, embarrassed at having been caught. “to be surrounded by strangers.”
“yes,” his eyes are far away for a moment, his head deep in thought. “i understand.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the next morning you had only just left your chambers, planning for another day exploring the greenery around the palace, when you spot felix leaning against the wall opposite of the door. he approaches you with a warm smile and takes your hand, his skin soft under your fingertips. how long had he been waiting there for you?
“my lady,” he bows his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips to press a kiss there, as he had done when you first arrived. “would you care for a walk around the palace? it would be my honor to be your escort for the day.”
“if you ask so nicely,” you smile back, humor seeping into your voice naturally. “how can i refuse?”
“excellent,” his smile widens and he holds an arm out for you to take. “i’ll take you to meet my friends! that way, you will have friends here, too, instead of strangers.”
his friends, you thought, would be nobles and lords and other members of high class that you would have to make fake pleasantries with. while his gesture was sweet, you had no interest making relations with the elite members of this court, the ones whose lives you were planning on upending. the last thing you expected was for him to take you straight to the kitchens, down winding hallways and corridors, marked by the ever increasing aroma of delicious baked goods and mouthwatering herbs.
“minho!” felix exclaims, bouncing on his heels excitedly, catching the attention of a man who was frowning deeply at a pot bubbling over a fire. “this is y/n, i am taking her around the castle today. y/n, this is minho, the king of our kitchens, and a dear friend of mine.”
the way he introduced you, so casually, was perplexing; no one had ever spoken your name without princess or lady preceding it. even more so was his casual use of king when talking about someone of lower class, a term that should be solely reserved for his father. 
“hello, my lady,” minho looks up, his lips turning up into a graceful smile, slightly crooked teeth peeking through his lips. his hair curls around his ears a bit, dainty jewelry adorning his lobes, and his features look almost sculpted in perfection. he’s absolutely beautiful.
“is everyone in your kingdom this pretty?” you blurt out, forgetting yourself, and minho barks into laughter. felix’s hand moves to lay on your arm, right at the crook of your elbow, and if it wasn’t for the amused smile on his face you may have thought you upset him.
“you are one to talk, my lady,” minho says, delight on his face that quickly morphs into exasperation as the pot he was monitoring earlier begins to bubble over.
“careful, min,” felix drawls out, his fingers curling further into your arm. almost possessively. interesting. “she is our guest, not someone for you to flirt with.”
“alright, your royal highness,” minho says distractedly, stirring vigorously. “now stop distracting me, unless you want raw meat and vegetables for dinner tonight.” 
felix grins in response, shooting a wave at the cook before leading you to a door in the back of the kitchens. it follows outside to a set of fields you hadn’t laid eyes on before, a cobblestone path winding through it like a river.
“so, do you think i am pretty too?” he teases as he leads you down the path, towards a set of men - knights - sparring in the midday sun. “or is that reserved for minho?”
“well-” you laugh, startled at his boldness. “i will not lie, you certainly are beautiful. but do not let it get to your head.”
“well as you said, flattery gets you nowhere, my lady,” he laughs too, and the two of you break all composure as you lean into each other. it’s almost too easy to be casual with him, too natural to break the carefully taught formalities that were drilled into you. you thought it might be a challenge, or awkward at the minimum, to get close to the prince, but you’re finding it to be quite an enjoyable experience thus far.
as you approach the knights, sweaty and panting from the exertion of their practice, you point out two men stand out from the rest, wearing armor with the royal colors showing proudly rather than the simple silver of the other knights. they held themselves with grace, power exuding off of them almost effortlessly, and they spark your interest.
“changbin and jisung,” felix points them out. “chris’ most trusted knights, and our friends. i pray for you if you ever get into a poker match with those two, they’ll cheat you out of every coin in your purse, the rascals.”
his voice is fond as his words are teasing, a juxtaposition that fascinates you. you don’t think you can recall a time where someone has used an insult as a term of endearment as he had just done. you lock this away in the back of your mind to ponder on later as you take in the two knights in front of you. the shorter one is clearly fond of exercise, if the muscles that even his heavy armor can’t hide is any clue. his hair is as dark as a raven’s feathers, curling from sweat, and his face is kind. the one next to him is slimmer, but no less strong. his face is round, cheeks swelling from the gummy smile he’s wearing, and his eyes are so pretty. 
“felix!” the more muscular one, changbin as felix had pointed out, beams at the man beside you. “care to join? your moves must be getting rusty with all the sitting around you royals do.”
felix sends a glare to changbin, no heat behind the gesture, and him and jisung laugh in response. 
“i have company, you scoundrels,” felix complains, almost in a whine. “could you not just boast about my prowess on the battlefield? you had to make me look bad?”
“please, lix,” jisung teases before turning his attention to you. “he may not be the most powerful warrior, but he is quick. the most agile swordwork i have seen, probably. it is like he is dancing with his opponent.”
felix flushes, shy under the compliments of his knights, his friends. 
“hyunjin and seungmin must be around here somewhere,” felix muses as he walks you down the corridor lined with knights, back inside and down a hallway you haven’t seen before. “this is where mine and chris’ chambers are. hyunjin is chris’s personal secretary, and seungmin is mine. though, i would consider him more of a menace than anything else.” 
his voice is lined with fondness again, like the way he spoke about minho and changbin and jisung. it’s the same manner as how he talks about his father and his brother, his family. it was like they were all his kin, regardless of blood.
“you are on a first name basis with the staff here?” you ask after a lull of silence, curiosity winning over your hesitance. your own handmaidens did not address you by name, the women who were your closest companions since you were young girls. you had never even thought to grant them the privilege of doing so.
“we treat everyone with the same respect, regardless of status or bloodline,” he says, words sounding a little colder than usual. 
“do not misunderstand,” you quickly correct, not wanting to offend him. because you want him to trust you, your mind supplies. not because you want him to like you. “i think it admirable. it is…different, to how things are in my kingdom. i am simply not used to it. i would prefer it this way, if i had the choice.”
it wasn’t a complete lie; you were searching for words that would win him your favor, but it surprised you how naturally they came to you. 
“do you not?” he furrows his brow, looking at you in confusion. whatever iciness he had before had melted into befuddlement, like he genuinely didn’t understand. “have a choice, i mean.”
you don’t know how to tell him you don’t have many choices at all. 
the silence takes over the both of you again, less comfortable than before, but he remains quiet as if he can sense the thoughts whirling inside of your head. it’s only when you reach the limits of the palace property that you’re thrown out of your mind, glancing at him with unspoken question.
“i thought we could take a stroll through the lower towns to end our day,” he explains, no signs of lingering animosity from your previous conversation. “it is my favorite place to go to get away from the palace once in a while.”
the lower towns, like most things in this kingdom, were not what you had expected. there were children playing in the streets, laughing and screaming while their parents watched on in exasperation. markets lined the cobblestones you walked on, selling vibrant fabrics and jewelry, freshly baked goods and crisp produce, and a variety of trinkets that overwhelmed you in the best way, patrons were striking bargains for products on every corner, trading goods for coin, a smile on each face you encountered.
it was a good distinction from the towns you were used to, where knights patrolled to ensure nothing was amiss. people there lived in fear, not in joy. everywhere you turned, people smiled at the prince beside you, and he would wave back or offer a small nod, ever polite. the few times you had managed to sneak into the lower towns to buy paints and canvas or trinkets as gifts for your handmaidens, you had gone in a thick cloak that covered your face lest you be recognized. here, walking around in your day dress, you felt almost naked. 
a child runs up to felix and wraps his small arms around his legs, bouncing excitedly on his heels.
“prince lixie!” he squeals, and felix leans down to ruffle his hair, a large smile on his face. it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “is that a princess?”
it takes you a moment to realize that the child is asking about you. you don’t interact with children much, your father would never allow them to touch you like the boy is with felix.
“yes, she is,” felix whispers, like he’s sharing a secret. “a very beautiful princess. why don’t you say hello?”
“hello,” the boy turns shy, peeking his head out from behind felix’ leg. the child, you found, could be forgiven for his lack of decorum when addressing you. he had a lot to learn at his young age. “i am joshua.”
“hi, little one,” you say, a little awkward as felix’ eyes are trained on you. “i am y/n.” 
you were at loss for words, but the few words you managed to give had the boy practically beaming at you in response. you watch as felix tells him to return to his friends, because you and him were on official palace business, and the boy nods sagely before scampering off.
“sorry about him,” he says once lucas is out of sight. “i have been visiting him in the village since he was very little. i have taken a liking to him, naughty as he is. he is the son of one of the merchants here, and he lost his mother years ago. i see myself in him.” 
“he is precious,” you take his arm again as he continues down the path. “i always wanted to visit the children in the orphanages at home, but i-” you cut yourself off, a habit you’ve taken to since arriving here. i need to learn to think before speaking. “i have not gotten the chance.”
“the children here are lovely,” he says. “i like learning from them. they keep me humble, remind me that not everyone is born with such privilege.”
he says it so simply, as if it’s his right to question such things; a man born into royalty surely has no business spending time with lower-class children, learning from them. it is one thing to offer them a coin, something that the kingdom could clearly spare. but what could they possibly teach him that his well-respected tutors could not?
you didn’t bring it up, afraid that he would react the same way he had earlier, when you questioned his informality with his staff. afraid that maybe, he would react in anger, though you couldn’t quite imagine the perfect lines of his face twisted into anything but peace.
before the two of you leave, he stops at one of the many stands selling an array of sparking jewelry and scarves, and he asks you if you would like anything. you want to say yes, the handmade twists of metal and dyed fabrics captivating you, but you shyly shake your head. 
you almost miss his forlorn expression when you refuse, turning away from the stand. it’s better this way, to not receive gifts from him. there will be nothing in your possession to remember him by, then.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
as felix drops you off at your door in the evening, the day comes crashing down on you - he’s so kind. everyone here is, from the royal family to the staff and the people living in the villages outside the gates. throughout the entire day you spent with felix, you did not once think about why you were here, simply enjoying his company and learning about him, not the secrets you were tasked with uncovering. 
it’s given you a lot to think about.
as he leaves, he runs a gentle hand down your arm from your shoulder to your wrist, squeezing gently before walking away. even his strides are made in lovely, even steps that makes him look other-worldly.
you lean against the doorframe, taking a deep breath to try and settle yourself, and it’s then that a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye captures your attention. 
a servant is standing just down the hallway opposite from the one felix disappeared into, the same servant who had walked you to your chambers the very first day. the first person here who had smiled at you for no reason other than to be kind.
“hello,” you call out softly, beckoning him closer to you; you don’t know who looks more nervous out of the two of you as he approaches you with uncertain steps. “what is your name?”
“jeongin, my lady,” he almost whispers, hesitant, wide eyes trained on you. 
“nice to meet you, jeongin,” your lips tug upwards. he’s adorable. 
“we have met before,” he blurts out, smacking his hands over his mouth. “i am sorry, i spoke out of turn. i just meant…” 
he trails off, looking down shyly. 
“meant what, jeongin?” you ask, sure to keep your voice light and free of demand despite the curiosity starting to burn in you. what did he mean, you’ve met before? surely, he means within the palace earlier that week, right?
“i used to live in your kingdom,” he admits, his fingers playing with them hem of his tunic. “when i was younger. my mother was a servant in your castle.”
“really?” you gasp, understanding and puzzlement taking over simultaneously. 
“yes, but i left when i was still young,” he explains. “i remember you, though. you were always kind. i admired you for that.”
“thank you, jeongin,” you manage to force out, knowing that you did not deserve his kind words, even as informal as they were given. he was wrong; you were just as wicked as the rest of the nobles in your court. perhaps you were simply better at hiding it.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
your father pulls you into an empty corridor near your chambers the next day, his strength harsh enough to make you stumble over your feet.
“what have you learned,” he speaks in hushed tones, scared of being overheard. it’s more of a demand than a question, as if he simply expected you to have what he needs after such little time.
“i spent the entire day with him yesterday,” you start, choosing your words carefully, lest he discover that you’re actually enjoying yourself here. “he took me around the castle, and i have an idea of the layout, in the case that we need to make a hasty exit.”
“anything else?” he pushes, leaning further into your space. 
“they are…unusually fond of their staff here,” you divulge, more reluctant to give up this information. “they might be of use.”
“good girl,” his smirk is like frost, and he reaches out to cup your cheek. a gesture that, to others, may have seemed paternal, protective. though his touch sends an unpleasant shiver up your spine, his words satisfy some sick satisfaction within you - the need for his approval was met.
“your mother would be proud.”
as he walks away, it makes you queasy how those words make you straighten up, proud. pleased. living in the echo of your mother’s footsteps for so long made you doubtful that you would ever be able to fill them, but maybe this was a start.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you see felix later, walking to the banquet hall with another boy dressed in simple clothes. they pause by the entrance, deep in conversation, and you duck behind a pillar, out of their sight. you’re just close enough to hear snippets of their conversation, when their voices raise from their hushed whispers. they must not want to be overheard, you realize, straining your ears harder. this was your chance to gather some kind useful information for your father.
you close your eyes and listen, picking up puzzle pieces of she’s sick and time off and you’ve almost completed the puzzle when it hits you - though any conversation they might have had was not meant for you to hear, this one in particular felt like a breach of privacy. not of felix’ but of the boy standing before him. 
his secretary, seungmin, that he had spoken about the previous day. the boy who, as you had just learned, had a sick mother, and was requesting some time away to care for her. as you peek around the pillar, you see felix rest a hand on his shoulder, leaning close to the boy before pulling him in for a gentle hug. 
he’s friends with his staff, and he touches them so casually? this didn’t fit. it fit nothing of the way you were brought up, formality and proprietary trained into you, and it fit nothing of the picture your father had painted of the royals that ruled over this kingdom. it seems that with every observation, instead of answers you were left with more and more questions. 
“what are you doing?” a voice sounds from behind you, too close, and you nearly jump. 
“what?” you breathe out, turning to see jeongin standing behind you, eyes wide.
“you were just standing there with your eyes closed,” he explains. “is everything okay?”
“my lady,” you correct, the words leaving your mouth as if it had a mind of its own. “is everything okay, my lady.”
“oh,” he says, twisting his bottom lip between his teeth. “apologies, my lady. there is no such need for formalities here, i had forgotten.”
“it is alright,” you assure, watching as he relaxes and lets out a breath. 
“just, a word of advice?” he says, continuing before you could tell him that no, you didn’t want nor need his advice. “if you are going to be here for some time, you should try and adapt. not to overstep, my lady, you just might find yourself more comfortable if you relax a bit.”
he walks away with a smile, and you’re left alone to reflect on his words. he did overstep, but it does not mean he didn’t give you something useful. adapt, he had said, and perhaps he had a point. felix seemed to be more open with you when you were agreeable, when you didn’t question his strange impropriety. 
maybe becoming one of them, even through a facade, was the key to unlocking whatever you needed to find.
he arrives at your door as the sun was setting, light knocks accompanied by a call of your name that you almost couldn’t hear. you call out softly for him to enter, a delighted smile taking over your face when you see what he has grasped in his hand, held out in offering.
a beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapped in creamy tulle. the petals were a vibrant purple, highlighted by sharp yellows and soft whites towards their center. they were violas, your mother’s favorite flower. 
you hadn’t seen one since she had passed. your father had forbade anyone from growing them on his lands.
“how did you know?” you gasp, smiling at him brightly as you take them from him. you move them closer to your face, and if you were alone you might bury your face into them, savoring their powdery sweet smell. “that these were my favorite flower?”
“you told me,” he says, ears turning pink under your attention. “that your mother painted your room in purple flowers. i just guessed, but from your reaction i hope i got it right?”
how had he remembered such a small detail that you had given him, when you knew little to nothing about him?
“oh, felix, they’re perfect. you remembered such a small thing?”
“there are a lot of things i wish to know about you,” he confesses. 
“likewise,” you smile at him. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
smoke, creeping through the gap between the floor and the wooden door, rising in curling pillars towards you. snaking around your neck, entering your throat and your nostrils, burning your lungs to ash. you scramble for the doorknob, but the moment your fingers hit it you’re snatching your hand back - it’s icy hot, unable to touch. 
there is no escape.
the windows - covered by royal blue curtains, catch fire from below, and you throw them back. you need air, something to clear out your crumbling lungs, but when you look outside the city is on fire. red-hot flames lick up the side of the palace, trees turned barren and flowers burned to a crisp. 
in the center you can see felix, flames surrounding him but not touching. he’s whispering something, and you cry out that you can’t hear him. speak louder, please, you beg. help me.
“this is your fault,” he speaks, his voice right in your ear, but when you turn towards it, it’s not felix next to you. it’s your father.
his hand slides around your waist, pulling you close to him, embracing you. 
“good work,” he says, proud smile on his face as the both of you watch the city fall to the flames. “i knew you could do it.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
since the younger prince had taken you on a tour of the castle, you’ve seen him every day. sometimes he would greet you at breakfast, disappearing afterwards only for him to show up at your door later to ask you on a walk around the grounds. other times he would be waiting for you outside your chambers when you woke up with a basket of fresh pasties baked by minho for you to enjoy together, and he would watch in delight as you savored the flavors. on rarer days, you would only see him in passing while he was between duties, but he would stop to press a kiss to the back of your hand, every time. 
you played along with him, accepting his flirting and responding in turn. it came instinctively, and you often forgot that you were meant to be luring him into a false companionship, not a real one. he was alluring, smart with a fragment of recklessness, soft with sharp edges, a perfect balance of everything. 
as the days passed, he would get bolder. his touches lingered for longer, the searing heat of his hand pressing on your arm, your shoulder, on the small of your back. his kisses moved from your hands to your cheeks and your temples, to the crown of your head, and it left you aching for more. he didn’t hold back his compliments, reflecting not only on how beautiful he found you but also how thought you were clever, intelligent, good-natured. you never thought those things about yourself, but something in the way he said it made you think they were true.
in the times that you weren’t with felix, you spent time with jeongin. the boy was as sweet as he looked, the the more time you spent together, the more his shyness melted away to reveal sharp wit and an even sharper tongue. you found your own walls dropping around him too, his easy companionship making it difficult to remain closed off to him. he reminded you of the home of your childhood, the one that you missed fiercely, and you were grateful to have him by your side. he kept you humble, holding you accountable for the way you acted, even though a spark of fear remained within him any time he spoke his mind in that regard. you managed to hold back your annoyance at his remarks, and soon you found that it simply faded out of reach. you became fast friends, almost too quickly, evidenced by the way he would raise his eyebrows at you when he saw you with felix, like he could see right through you.
you were lucky that your attraction to the prince was all that he could see through. the weight of your impending betrayal was like a shackle on your ankle, following you wherever you went, impossible to truly forget about. while you had yet to learn anything about the royal family that could serve as a benefit to your father, you saw your relationship with felix as a betrayal in it’s own right. if you were better, you would leave him alone - you would leave this kingdom entirely, and refuse to play any part in their downfall. but you couldn’t physically stay away.
you couldn’t stop from filing away small bits of information that might serve to be useful, either. the prince’s brother’s favorite meal, in case the opportunity to poison him came along. his father’s daily schedule, told to you by felix freely when you had asked, your fingertip running down his arm from his shoulder to his wrist. the likely areas where secrets may have been hidden, restricted to you and glossed over by felix when he would walk with you around the castle. you hated it, categorizing this information into handy little parcels that you would deliver to your father.
a welcome distraction came in the form of the very thing you should be avoiding; on a few occasions, felix had christopher and his betrothed, roseanne, accompany the two of you on whatever excursion he had planned for that day. 
a simple picnic in the garden, juicy fruits picked just that morning and fresh baked bread and crumbly cheeses to snack on while the four of you talked. conversation came easy with chris and roseanne, once you broke out of the too familiar anxiety that surrounded you when with new people. felix’s warmth from where he was settled next to you, allowing you to lean into him, helped more than you wanted to tell him. chris was so similar to his brother, sharing his kindness and his humor, though his jokes were cheesier than felix’ dry sarcasm. roseanne was lovely, someone who you could see as a close friend under different circumstances. 
a on a visit to the lower towns, just as lively as it was the first time you went. it was then that you officially met hyunjin and seungmin, the prince’s assistants. the way they bickered with one another, and their royal counterparts, made you laugh so hard that your stomach ached with it. even they were striking, and it left you wondering whether one’s disposition on the inside reflected their beauty on the outside. 
your friendly chatter continued into mealtimes, where the kings would join you, the very few times where you would get to see king stephen at all. he bantered with his children, asking them about their days and their plans for the next ones, acted like a father instead of a king with them. it sent a pang of longing through you - your father had been like that, before. you don’t think he remembered how to be a father, anymore.
as much as you loved the prince’s company, you hated the approving nods you would get from your father whenever he saw you and felix together. the acknowledgement that you craved for just weeks ago felt near futile now - he didn’t see that instead of making the prince fall for you, the opposite was taking place. he didn’t see the genuine connection between the two of you, the way you craved for him, the way nothing else seemed to matter when he was in front of you. he didn’t care about your heart, about how it would likely break beyond compare when he he was finished here. he didn’t care about you. 
the you that was falling for felix. for his compassion, for his gentle nature, for his quick wit and effortless beauty. for the way he treated those around him, for the way he spoke to you like you were more than a pawn in a cruel game of chess. it made you sick to your stomach to think about what was to come, what you hopelessly wished you could avoid. you find yourself wishing, not for the first time, that you and your father were truly here seeking peace. that you could imagine a future here without guilt gnawing at your chest.
the closer you grow to felix, the stronger the gnawing feeling in your stomach becomes. but you can’t stay away from him, even if you tried; the sparking light in his eyes drew you in and you were helpless to his magnetic pull. the way he would beckon you over with his hand, palm facing upright as if waiting to join with your own, left you no choice but to go to him. you knew you were selfish, spending time with him out of your own desires while doing nothing to warn him of what was to come and making no actions to follow through with your father’s wishes. you knew your time here, living in peace, was running short, the last dribbles of sand slipping down an hourglass.
and yet, when he finally pulled you into an empty alcove and held you close so that he could press his lips gently to yours, you let him. you responded in kind, moving together with him like some kind of dance. 
when he invited you into his chambers and into his bed, you didn’t say no. even then, when he gave you all of himself, you took it. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
fire, this time contained in a ring of wooden slats, smoke curling up into the night sky. felix, by your side, you tucked into his side while the two of you claim it’s warmth for your own.
“why?” felix says, running a hand up and down your arm. you hum, snuggling further into him when a breeze makes it way to you through the trees surrounding you.
“why what?” you ask, voice syrupy sweet.
“why did you do it?” he turns towards you, the flames still visible in his eyes. he glances over your shoulder pointedly before turning back to the campfire, pulling you into him again. you look behind you, and a firestorm meets your vision. you can barely make out the outline of the beautiful palace through the inferno, but a figure stands out in the center of it. you move closer, the heat threatening to scorch your skin, to see your father strapped to stake. burning. dying.
you turn back towards felix, question dying on your lips when he’s not there. a sick feeling enters your stomach as your gaze returns to the fire, and where your father was is felix in his place.
you let out a horrid scream.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
waking up to the sight of felix, blonde hair illuminated by the morning light like a halo around his head, was something you think you could never get used to. even if you were allowed this under better circumstances, if the two of you had fallen together after meeting at a ball or a diplomatic meeting, his beauty was something that you truly could not comprehend. 
you have half a mind to scold both him and yourself for breaking proprietary, for falling into bed with one another out of wedlock, as parts of two separate kingdoms that have yet to establish ties. you don’t, though; you were as much at fault as he was, and you had enjoyed it too much to ruin it for either of you. you do not acknowledge the guilt that was creeping up inside of you from your dishonesty, or the remainder of fear that lingered from your dream. looking at felix while he slept seemed like a much better way to spend your time.
he is equal parts pretty and cute when he mumbles, smacking his lips together as his eyelids flutter, holding onto the last pieces of sleep he can. when his brown eyes peek through his eyelashes and land on you, you can see the smile in his gaze.
“morning,” his deep voice rumbles, and he pulls you close to him by the waist. you land almost on top of him, his movement making you lose your balance from where you were perched on your elbow watching him, and you both let out breathless laughter at your undignified flailing. you settle against him, his chest pillowing your head while you trace senseless patterns into whatever patches of skin you can find.
you can still feel the phantom touches that he had imprinted on you the night before, as he held you more gently than anyone ever had. you can feel the silky smooth strands of his hair under your fingers, the ghost of his breath panting against your neck. you can hear the sweet sounds you pulled out of him over and over. 
“penny for your thoughts?” he asks, just as he did when he met you in the gardens the very first time. 
“mm,” you sound, not wanting to break the peaceful silence the two of you were basking in. “just thinking about my mother.” 
“oh,” his face drops in sadness. not in pity, but in compassion. in empathy, for of all people he would understand; he lost his mother, too. “can i ask how she passed?”
a refusal is at the tip of your tongue, as it is when anyone asks about your mother, but it fizzles out when you look at him. you found yourself wanting to talk about this with him.
“she was sick,” you start, early memories of your childhood filtering into your head. “since i can remember, she was sick. it took over her body slowly, it took years for her to succumb to being bedridden. she would paint for hours and hours, back then, until she collapsed. but then, it took over her mind too. that was the worst part, her forgetting who my father was, who i was, forgetting who she was. when she passed, it was almost a relief, i could not stand to see her in that state of pain anymore. i was twelve, when it happened.”
“i am sorry,” his voice is deep, thick with sadness. “that sounds like something a child should never have to go through.”
“what about…” you trail off, not wanting to make it sound like the two of you were trading secrets like giggling children. 
“she was murdered by bandits, in the lower towns, just a few years ago,” he answered your unfinished question. “she went further than she was supposed to go from the castle grounds, and she always refused to bring knights with her. my father blames himself, and i blamed him for a long time too. but it was not his fault.”
“i am sorry, too,” you place your hand on his cheek, hoping the weight of your caress would surpass the lack of words you offered him. 
“as strange as it is to say, i-” he cuts off for a second, letting out a strangled laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “i am glad that you understand. it is hard telling these things to people that have not experienced that kind of pain.”
you don’t think it’s strange at all. it settles something within you, the part of you that had felt so alone for years. for all of his charms, it was this display of raw honesty that transformed what you had thought to be superficial attraction into something more, something deeper.
“i feel the same,” you close your eyes, trying to tamper the nausea that arose at those words. you’re going to take his father from him too, your back-stabbing mind informs you. and his brother, you don’t deserve his comfort. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
your father calls for you that morning, sending a note to your chambers. you only see it when you finally get out of felix’ bed and make it to your own to freshen up, a smile present on your face that you can’t help. 
every step you take towards your father’s chambers feels more and more like you’re signing your death wish, and the sound of his door opening several moments after you knock on it sounds like cannon-fire in your head.
“you asked for me?” you move closer to the desk where he had sat, and from your position you could see messy piles of paper with words that had been angrily scrawled on them. 
“i have asked you for many things,” he starts, voice dripping with condescension. “but it is good to see that you can manage to follow simple orders.”
his passive aggression makes your blood boil; after weeks of being treated so kindly by your hosts, your patience was wearing thin in the face of your father.
“i am trying to earn their trust fully,” you try to reason. “it is taking longer than expected.”
“and sharing a bed with him is not enough? whoring yourself out to them has not given you the opportunity to find out what you need?” his words were almost enough to make your skin catch fire. how did he possibly know what you and felix had done? “complete what i have asked of you, now. the faster we finish this, the quicker we can leave this horrid place.”
leave this place, and go back to what? an empty castle where you are disrespected, forgotten, ignored? a place with no life, no joy, no laughter? you weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but you were certain that going back was not a favorable outcome.
“i’m not a servant that you can bark orders to,” you bit out, regretting it almost instantly when he stood up so fast that his chair fell to the floor behind him. 
“watch your mouth,” he growls, stalking towards you, and you take a few steps back from him. “it seems that the only thing you’ve learned from the insolent brats here is how to be weak. how to disrespect your king, the one who has clothed you and fed you since you were born.”
your king, he said. not your father. 
he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back, back, back until you’re up against the door, his grip strong enough that you knew would leave behind a ring of bruises. you wish you could deem this unfamiliar, but the sensation of feeling pain caused by his hands was not uncommon.
“i am growing tired of your excuses. you think they care about you? they would kill you in an instant if they knew what you have been hiding.” he moves closer, until his face is inches from yours and you cannot look anywhere but at him. “if you know what is good for you, you will stop this insolence and do as i say.”
when he removes his grip from you, your knees give out, and you brace yourself against the doorframe to keep from falling. he returns to his desk, not sparing you a glance as you leave his chambers and close the door behind you.
you don’t notice the frightened frame that had been standing outside the door through the tears clouding your vision.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you’re sitting at the fireplace in your chambers when you hear your door open, jeongin slipping in and closing it quietly behind him. he settles himself next to you, taking in your haggard appearance.
“your father is not here to make peace, is he?” he asks, his voice quiet and free of judgment. like he was confirming what he was already known to be true, not making an accusation.
“no,” you answer simply, too exhausted to try and lie to him. your friend. maybe the first real one you’ve ever had.
“you are helping him.” he says, letting a crumb of distress loose into his voice.
“yes.”
“you have come here under the illest of intentions, gained our trust,” he starts, calm. quiet.
“i know,” you sigh.
“you are going to hurt a lot of people.“
“i know.”
“you are going to do it, even though you do not want to.”
“i know, jeongin!” you snap, feeling guilty when he jumps a little.
“it’s just,” he’s playing with his fingers, a tell of his nerves. “i remember what it was like, at home. before, and then after. when things changed, when people became meaner. more cold, and closed off. that is why we left, and came here. don not make us go through that again.”
“i am sorry,” you whisper, a heavy, uncomfortable feeling settling in your stomach at his words. all you can offer him is an empty apology, useless as it is.
“i had hoped that you would be different. that you would stay true to who you were, or who i thought you to be.” he’s looking into the fire, not blinking as if mesmerized. as if he’s trying to dissociate from this moment in a way you wish you could. “when i saw you here, you still had it. that light, from before.”
“i do not want to do it, innie,” you choke out, echoing his words while your eyes burned. “i do not know what to do. i never wanted this, i hate it.”
“i know,” he says. “i can see it. in everything you do, your hesitation, the way you hold yourself back. but you do not understand.”
“understand what?” you’re exhausted, you don’t have it in yourself to be frustrated at him.
“that you have a choice,” he says, as if it was a simple thing. “that you can choose to end this, choose to do what you know is right.”
“i am scared,” you wobble out.
“being scared is good,” he finally breaks away from the fire, but the light in his eyes burns just as bright when he looks at you. “it makes you genuine. that is what makes you different from him. but you do not have to let that stop you.”
“i do not know how,” you whisper, voice barely carrying over to him. 
“figure it out,” he says, just as quiet. “or i will do something, that you will not like. i will not let you harm my friends, no matter who you are.”
he leaves you then, slipping out of the chambers as quietly as he had come in, leaving you to your thoughts and what felt like a never ending stream of silent tears flowing from your eyes.
the next morning, you hand jeongin a note to give to hyunjin for christopher. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the sun had been set for hours when you wrap a scarf around your neck to hind the greenish blue splotches forming around your neck and secure the buckles on your boots. you hadn’t seen felix all day, but you knew that if he asked you to spend the night with him that you wouldn’t be able to follow through with what you were about to to.
your cloak shrouds your face from anyone who might be awake as you quickly make your way through the gardens, to the bench that you often inhabited. christopher is already waiting there for you, a grim look on his face.
“why did you ask me here, my lady?” he asks, clearly confused. 
“please, i need you to listen to me,” your voice is hushed, like you’re scared of anyone hearing despite the hour of day and the concealed location you had chosen.”i am going to tell you things that you will not like, but i need you to listen until the end.” 
“are you alright?” he looks concerned at how desperate you sound, but you shake your head. now isn’t the time for him to worry about you.
you tell him everything. the things your father had said about his family, the plan he had concocted before even stepping foot in this kingdom, the way his demands have been increasing from your lack of progress. the way you had changed as a result of being around the people here, that you didn’t wish to play in your father’s game any longer. you watch as his face morphs from surprise to anger to betrayal and back again, a cycle of emotions that might be comical under any other circumstance. 
there were many ways you could have done this; telling the king for one, but this would open the chance of him ending your life along with your father. trying again to reason with your him, making it clear that you weren’t going to comply with his demands, but you could never see him compromising his mission. there was one single thing that you had thought of that had a chance of succeeding, with your head still attached to your body.
you end your speech with a demand, simple as it is, and that’s when he shows disbelief.
“you want me to kill your father?” he asks, incredulous. 
“i may have loved him once,” you admit, voice thick with emotion. “but not anymore. he is not my father anymore, he is a tyrant. there is not a single soul in the kingdoms that would benefit from him being alive.”
“how do i know i can trust you?” he raises a cool brow, indifference masking whatever he was truly feeling underneath. “what if this is part of your plot?”
“you do not have time to consider my legitimacy!” you cry out, desperate. “i have tried to delay him, to think of some way out of this. he is getting angrier by the day and i fear that he will do something without thinking, something bad, and soon.”
“why not just leave then?” he asks, as if giving you a test. for all it was worth, it was a test that you wanted to pass. “why go through all of this when you could just get out, save yourself?”
“that would not be fair to my people, to leave them with him,” your words come out more passionate than you expected them to. “they deserve better than that. and it would not be fair to you, either. you have shown me more compassion than anyone has since my mother was alive. i will not repay that kindness by leaving like a coward.”
“has he hurt you?” the question catches you off guard, as does the concern filtering through his gaze. you bite your tongue; you want to answer, tell him yes, but that tiny, frightened version of you inside stops the words from coming out. you want to pull down your scarf, show him visible proof of the way your father treats you, but your hands feel like lead. he takes your silence as a confirmation though, nodding and cursing under his breath. 
“i will not kill him,” he says, and you open your mouth to beg, plead for him to listen, but he holds a hand out as he continues. “but i will keep my guard up. i will not take this lightly; my father’s life is in danger, and i will take every precaution while i gain information.”
you sigh through your nose, defeat making your body sag into the bench. this was your last chance; chris may as well have just sealed all of your fates.
“please understand,” he says, weary. “i cannot go to my father with accusations when i have no proof. i believe you, i just need evidence before i can act.”
“please, just,” you say as you stand, not wanting to ask him for another impossible task he might refuse. “do not tell felix? i cannot have him getting caught up in this. i do not want him hurt.”
“you care about him.” he states, as if he is already sure of your answer. 
“more than i thought possible,” you answer, and it is the truth.
“i cannot promise you that i will keep him in the dark. he is my brother,” he frowns. “we do not keep secrets from one another.”
“please,” it’s all you can say before you walk away, pulling your hood back over your face. you can only hope that he will listen to your plea. if not for your sake, but for felix’.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you should go to your own chambers, should stay away from felix until things were figured out, done and over. but your feet take you to his door instead of your own, and you’re inside his chambers before you can second-guess your stupid decision. you can tell he’s awake by his breathing, irregular and short, and it both pains and excites you that you are allowed to know things about him in that capacity.
“hi,” you keep your voice low, almost a purr as you climb into the bed and throw an arm around his curled up form. his nose scrunches and he wriggles a little bit, almost dislodging you, but you keep your grip strong. you don’t know when you will get this again. 
“you smell like outside,” he complains, his body going lax. “where were you? i missed you.”
“just checking on some things,” you mumble into his skin, your lips finding home on the back of his neck. “i am all yours now.”
“do you not have people to check on things for you?” he asks, opening his eyes finally and turning his head towards you. you’re glad for the lack of light that keeps him from really seeing you. seeing the stress pinching your brows together, and the guilty frown that you can’t get rid of. “i have told you, my staff are there at your disposal. for whatever you need.” 
“why trust others to do things i can do myself?” you quip back, the guilt of not telling him eating at you. you bury your face into his neck, hiding yourself, and the hand he tangles into your hair soothes you a bit. you feel tears welling up against your will and you let a shaky breath out into his honeyed skin.
“are you alright?” he tries to move your head up to look at you, but you refuse, shaking your head.
“i just really care about you, you know that right?” you admit, the last words you spoke to chris echoing in your head. “i didn’t expect to ever care about someone this much.”
“i care about you too,” confusion laces his words, and he runs a hand up and down your back. “are you sure you are alright?”
“i will be.”
so will he. you would make sure of it, somehow.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
felix is out of bed by the time you awaken the next morning, but it isn’t something unusual to wake up to cold sheets next to you. he is a prince, after all, and he can’t spend all hours of his day with you. if anything it’s better that he’s gone today; it will help you keep the distance that you failed to keep the night before.
you’re slow as you dress, the decision you made before you succumbed to sleep weighing heavily on your shoulders; you were going to speak to your father, for a final time. you were not going to give him a choice, you were going to rob him of the basic right that you he so often deprived you of. you were going to make him listen to you, for once.
but when you enter his chambers, he is absent from them. you try and dampen the dread creeping up your throat; surely, he wouldn’t act now? only a couple of days after you last spoke?
you approach his desk, looking for any sort of clue that might lead to his whereabouts, but what you find is worse than you’d imagined. pages upon pages of plans, detailed imagery of how he wanted to kill the king and his sons, how he wanted to enslave the people here, how he would take the resources here and let the land rot and decay, all scribbled down in near nonsensical sentences. 
stupid man, leaving these out for anyone to see. you swipe them off the table, folding them neatly and tucking them into the bodice of your dress where no one would find them, just as your father enters the chambers. your hand flies to your chest, covering up what you had just done, but your father must think it an act of surprise from his lack of acknowledgement.
“what are you doing here?” he asks, eyes narrowed on you. you hold your head up even when you want to cower before him. 
“the crowned prince knows of your betrayal,” you inform, watching as his eyes filled with anger. no fear, as you had expected.
“how,” he growls, making quick steps towards you and taking both of your arms in a harsh grip. his rings dig into your flesh, 
“i told him,” you say, surprised when the words come out clean and leveled and your head stays up high. “i will not help you any longer. the king will know soon, and you will be thrown in prison.”
it was an empty threat; you knew the king was still unaware of what was going on. 
“you would trade me for these people you barely know? the same people who killed your moth- your grandfather?” and it clicks into place. he made a mistake, he misspoke, and it showed the last of his cards that he had kept so carefully hidden from you. it’s clear now: he’s gone mad, searching for some kind of revenge, even if it is on the wrong people. he’s locked himself into some grief-fueled conspiracy, and you realize now that he’s truly lost to you. that he had been lost, for years now. 
“you are not fit to rule over anything,” you snarl. “you are not fit to be a father, you are not fit to do anything more than sit here and place blame on everyone but yourself!”
he doesn’t react for several moments, searching your face for something, before letting out a bark of laughter, eyes wild.
“you ungrateful, insolent, stupid girl,” he shakes you with every word, and your teeth rattle. “you think you can threaten me?” 
he raises a hand and the back of it strikes you across the cheek, metal catching on the delicate bone there. you fall to the ground, the force of it knocking you off balance, and when you raise a shaking hand to your burning skin it comes back flecked with blood. 
“get out of my sight,” he spits at you, stepping around your form as if you were a mere pest before him. “this changes nothing. your threats mean nothing, but heed mine. if you ever step foot in front of me again, i will have you hanged. from now on, you are not my daughter. you are nothing.”
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
the walk to your chambers feels longer than usual despite your hurried steps, and you can’t shake the feeling that something unfortunate was going to happen, soon. what did your father mean when he said that your warning changed nothing? did he not believe you?
you don’t dwell on his clear descent to madness for long; you curse yourself for not seeing the blatant signs of it earlier, his obsession and his misplaced fury, but you know that there are more pressing issues that need your attention. 
perhaps a further look at his aimless scribbling would give you some answers. either way, it was the proof you needed, the evidence chris claimed was necessary to have before approaching king stephen with your claims. you knew needed to act, and soon.  
when you find felix already in your chambers, his presence is enough to qualm the hurricane raging under your skin. it comes back full force, though, when you look at him and he’s angry. 
“when were you going to tell me,” he starts, voice ice cold like you’ve never heard it before. it terrified you. “that you were planning to kill my family?”
“what?” you gasp out, every nerve in your body freezing to stone. any urgency you were feeling regarding your father is wiped out, replaced with cold trepidation. chris told him.
“you came here to kill my father, to kill my brother and his love and to, to use me,” he grits out, voice trembling, and you can’t stand it.
“no, i-” you choke out, the words escaping you. you wanted to tell him everything, wanted to show him what you had found and bring the evidence to his father together, but you can’t get it out. “maybe at first, but no, not anymore-”
“not anymore?” he cries out, incredulous. “how can i trust anything you say to me? you’ve been lying to me since you got here, lying about everything, lying about caring for me-”
“no, felix, i love you,” the confession rips out of you and the timing couldn’t be worse. you wanted to tell him after, when things were not in the uncertain state they were in now. you wanted to give him the confession he deserved, something worthy of the man that he was. he shakes his head at your words, crystal tears forming in his eyes.
“you do not get to say that to me,” he bites out. “i do not even know who you are, you have been lying to me from the beginning, playing with me, you do not get to say that.”
“i did not want to,” you almost wail, the feeling in your knees giving out as you fall to his feet. the emotions that you haven’t been letting yourself feel were pouring out of you. “i did not want to, but he would have killed me, or married me off to some brute to get rid of me and i had no idea what to do.”
you want to shout, look at what he did to me, look at the evidence of what he would do to me, but you can’t. 
“stop. stop talking.” he drags you to your feet by the arm, grip harsh like he would rather do anything than be touching you right now. “get out of my chambers. i want you and your father out of my home, and if you do not leave i swear to the gods i will tell my father to have you hanged.”
you stumble towards his door, turning back to throw one last pleading glance at him, and you regret it as his next words cut you right to the core.
“they warned me about you, did you know that?” he’s no longer speaking out anger, but rather cold indifference. it’s worse, somehow. you wanted to ask who they were, but in the moment it truly didn’t matter. “they told me about your family, how vile you all are. how you would poison us from the inside. but when i laid eyes on you, i did not believe them. i know now, that i should have.”
your body remains frozen long after he leaves, and you don’t realize that your body has moved to your bed until jeongin peeks his head into the door.
“innie,” you choke out from where you’re laying over the covers. he rushes to your side, and his face falls when he sees the tears leaking from your eyes. 
“what happened?” he pushes your hair out of your face with the tips of his fingers, so gentle that you can’t help but let out a sob. 
“felix,” you stutter out. “he hates me- he wants me gone. and i don’t blame him, i hate me, but innie, it hurts.”
you let jeongin pull you into his arms, tears leaking into his shirt, and even then your traitorous heart wishes it was felix holding you like this. the last thing you remember before sleep clouds your mind is jeongin whispering i’m sorry into your hair.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
fire, but this time it surrounds you. not burning, but encasing you in warmth, covering your body completely. it spreads, catching onto the surfaces around you.
it’s threatening to combust, taking you with it. you didn’t know what do to. flee? protect, your mind demands. so you run, past door after door, passing by people who beckon you inside. you can’t, you need to leave.
chris, asking you to come inside. minho, calling you in for a meal, fresh and fragrant. jeongin, asking you to join him, telling you he’s worried about you. 
felix, standing still as stone on his balcony. your father behind him, eyes dark as they narrow in on the prince. no.
you rush to them, gliding past felix, your flame sliding off his skin like water. you push your father away, your momentum carrying the both of you forward as the flames catch on his frame.
falling, falling, falling, off the balcony towards an endless pit of darkness. you look up and felix is watching, beautiful face twisted in anguish as he watches the two of you plummet.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you didn’t leave. despite felix’ warnings, you didn’t make any moves to flee the castle. you needed to see this through, needed to ensure that the people here were safe; the only way you would leave this palace is in the absence of your father’s company. if you were going to die, you would rather it be by stephen’s hands than by his.
you almost don’t leave your chambers, terror paralyzing you as you sit on your bed, waiting nervously for something to happen. whether it be news from christopher about his efforts or a group of knights ready to take you to the dungeons, your body itched for some action. you don’t leave for breakfast, and you don’t let jeongin in when he quietly brings you a meal and leaves it at your door. you pick at it, watching the morning sun rise into the sky and wishing you had a jug of wine to drown yourself in.
by midday, you had made up your mind; you were going to enter the king’s chambers, deliver him the information you had, and sneak away from the palace at night. where you would go, you did not know, but you knew that you were not welcome in either court anymore. you had ostracized yourself from your home and from the group of people here that you hoped to one day call your family. 
you had no one. and it was your own doing.
you push away the thought as you hurry through the familiar halls, stopping at one of the only doors you had yet to enter. the king wasn’t in his chambers, you discovered, when you spent several minutes knocking on the door to no avail. the council chambers were empty as well, and you felt your heart speed up as you raced through the halls, avoiding any person you saw. your boots clicked on the stone as you hastily entered and exited chambers and hallways, searching desperately for the king, hoping he was here somewhere. 
you find them in the banquet hall, a smile on stephen’s face as he signs a long document with a feathered quill. you’re not close enough to see what it is from you’re standing behind a column at the entrance to the hall, hiding your presence from them. your father moves to stand next to the king when he finishes, leaning in close as he takes the quill from him, and he raises his hand behind the king’s back. in his hand, sunlight glints off of a piece of metal in his hand - a knife,
you look around desperately for a knight to alert, but you find none. why are there no knights here? your stomach lodges itself into your throat as you stare at the two kings, frozen as your father readies the knife, poised to strike stephen right in the center of his back -
“no!” you cry, breaking away from the spot you were glued to as you run faster than thought was possible have towards them. your father turns towards your voice in shock, the knife slicing through the king’s side in a clean movement, and the king falls. 
“what are you doing?” your father snarls, the man by his feet forgotten as his attention turns to you. you spare stephen a glance, meeting his wide eyes, and you hope he can see the apology in yours. your father’s forward movement moves your attention to him, and you see him stalking towards you with his knife poised. “i am growing tired of your foolishness, you wretched girl.”
“if you want to kill someone, kill me. not him,” you plead, backing away from him. “he did not kill her, you know that. this, this delusion you are living under, it needs to stop!”
“do not speak of her to me,” you can see his anger rising, redness traveling up his neck. “you are a poor excuse of a woman compared to her. you know nothing. everything i have done, i have done for her, and i will kill you and the rest of them if i need to.”
you’ve heard your father recount his killing of countless adversaries, spoken in cold tones with no regret, but to see him with his weapon raised at you is something you had never imagined in all of your days. it was a truly terrifying sight.
he backs you into the same column you had been hiding behind earlier, a mirror image of the way he had cornered you in his bedchambers days ago. his free hand circles your neck, covering the bruises that he had left behind then, and your hands fly to his wrist.
“this will never free you,” you choke out, tears brimming in your eyes that make your vision blurry. this way, when you look at him, his features are so unfocused that he almost looks like he used to, when he was sane. kind. “do you not understand? this will not bring her back. you will be truly alone.”
“better to be alone than living with you as a reminder of what i have lost,” he says softly, the sharp blade of the knife pressed to your side, stinging as it nicks your skin. 
you close your eyes, resigned to your fate. this was how it was going to end, no matter what. you, suffering from the result of his hands, his jolted mind. you, a mere ghost of your mother, biding your time in this world until he decided that you had none left. living a life that would never truly be your own. 
no.
your eyes fly open and meet his and he hesitates, the knife pulling back the smallest bit. you take the chance, your hand moves from one of his wrists to the other and you twist, taking in a sharp breath when he gasps and lets the knife clatter to the floor. he lets go of your neck and you drop, grabbing the handle of the knife with a shaky hand and slashing upwards, hoping that it would land somewhere. 
he drops to the floor with a howl of pain, clutching at his thigh, and in the next moment you’re on top of him, pinning him to the floor with a knee to his stomach. the knife is still in your hand, unmoving from how strongly your fingers were grasped around the handle. it would be so easy to plunge it into his chest, so simple. you would finally be free. 
you barely register when several knights finally barge into the hall, swords pointed at the two of you. your focus was purely on the man under you, at the madness swimming in his eyes and the ugly curl of his mouth shaped in scowl. 
“you will not do it. you are weak,” he wheezes out, confident even as he struggles to speak from your weight on him.
you raise the knife. 
a moment of tense silence. 
and felix calls out your name. the only voice that could break you away from the trance you were in. his lovely voice, shaped in your name. 
when you meet his eyes you drop the knife, and you’re pushed away from your father when by knights who move to secure him in shackles. you stand on wobbly feet, taking in the hall - felix, hovering by your side, hands raised as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t. chris, standing by his father’s side, supporting him as he rises from the floor. blood drips down his side, but not an alarming amount. he would be fine. your own father, cursing angrily at the guards who were keeping him restrained, his words passing through you with no recognition.
you’re sure you looked horrible, in this moment. hair a mess, chest still heaving, clothes torn. you didn’t belong here. you drop your father’s papers that you kept hidden in your clothing to the ground, watching them flutter before settling, face up for all to see.
“i will leave at first light,” is the last thing you say before leaving the king, the princes, and your father behind you.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
you didn’t look at your own reflection until the next morning. your face was a horrible painting of blues and blacks, and the bruises on your neck are fading into green, though you’re sure more were forming underneath them. 
you look horrible.
you didn’t come with many things, and most of them were unnecessary for where you were about to go; traveling into the woods didn’t require fancy dresses and jewelry, so as you packed your bag you left them behind. 
the last thing you expected was for felix to push the door to your chambers open, a noisier affair than you were used to from the way the door banged against the wall. 
“you are still here,” he breathes out, panting a bit like he ran here. he eyes the bag you were holding warily.
“i am,” you answer, fear seeping into your veins as he moves closer to you. not of him, never of him, but of the power he held over you. of the way his words could break your heart into more fractures than it already was in. 
“your father is in line for execution, at midday,” he informs, placing a hand on top of yours when he reaches you, his warm skin stinging the ice-cold skin of your own. 
“good,” it’s the only thing you can think to say. the only reaction you can muster from learning that your father was about to die, like you had wished him to.
“chris told me what you asked him to do,” he says, voice low. “i did not stay long enough to hear the whole story, when he told me the other day. i came to you in anger, and i did not listen to you either. i am sorry.”
his voice wobbles in sorrow, and it breaks your heart. 
“no, do not be,” you whisper, flipping your hand around so you could tangle your fingers with his. you wanted to feel him like this, at least one more time. “i should have been honest with you. when i chose to go against him, when i chose you, i should have told you.”
“you were scared,” he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “of him. and of us, i presume. i cannot fault you for that.”
“i was scared, but-” you cut yourself off, trying to find the right words. he waits for you patiently, eyes trained on your features. “since my mother died, my life has not been my own. i have not been allowed to make my own decisions, i don’t know how to…do this. that is no one’s fault but my own.”
“this?” he asks, velvet soft as he seeks for clarification. 
“to be honest about things. to trust people with what’s going on. to…not be scared of people’s reactions,” even this show of candor was sending your heart into a frenzied pace. “i do not know how.”
“then let me teach you,” you can hear the tears in his voice but you don’t look up to meet them. you didn’t think you could handle it. selfish. “please. i do not know what you are planning to do - after, but please do not leave.”
“felix, i have never felt more free than i have here, in this kingdom, with your people. with your family,” you squeeze your fingers around his hand, the only thing you could bring yourself to do. “with you. you have already taught me so much. how do i continue to take and take from you like this?” 
“you do not owe me anything,” he vows, bowing his head a bit. “anything i give to you, i give gladly. i act without thinking and i make rash decisions, too. do not think that i am not learning from you in turn. if it were not for jeongin finding me and explaining things to me yesterday, i would have done something horrid. i could have lost you, do you understand? you and i, we are not so different.”
jeongin. once this was all over, you were going to award that boy a house. or a village. whatever he wanted.
“did he do this to you?” he says when you don’t answer, raising one hand to the bruising around your neck and another to your cheek, feather-light fingertips tracing along the lines. “did he hurt you?”
“yes,” you breathe out, admitting for the first time to someone other than yourself what kind of man your father truly is. letting yourself accept that maybe, it was not your fault. that maybe, you deserved something better. 
you stayed.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
chris meets the two of you outside your chambers hours later, looking more exhausted than you’ve seen him before. he takes in your linked hands with a smile.
“felix told you?” he asks, gentle. you nod, leaning into felix. “i am sorry, that i did not do more. that it came to that.”
“do not apologize,” you say, resolute. “if anyone should be sorry, it is me. for putting you all through this.”
“if anyone needs to apologize, it is your father,” felix swears, his grip on your hand tightening. “if he was not already on his way, i would kill him myself for hurting you.”
you squeeze his hand back, hoping the gesture would bring him some comfort. violence was not a color that you think shaded felix often, but you couldn’t deny that his protectiveness was attractive.
it is chris’ duty to oversee the affair, but you cannot bring yourself to accompany him. the thought of seeing your father again, restrained and awaiting death, was not something that you wished to experience. 
felix stays with you, guiding you through the halls and into his bed, holding you tight the entire time. his presence by your side is overrides the myriad of negative emotions inside of you and for once, your mind is quiet, failing to remind you that you needing felix in this moment was self-serving. it’s as if the thoughts were dying along with your last-living relative.
you wished that you felt happy, relieved to be released from him. or even sorrow, full of grief for your lost father. but you felt nothing.
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
chris enters felix’ chambers at dusk, waking you and felix from the sleep that neither of you intended to fall into. 
“my father wishes to see you,” he addresses to you, waiting with leveled patience as the two of you slowly rise from the bed.
“is he angry?” your voice comes out as a whisper, betraying your anxiety.
“yes, but not at you,” he assures, settling a hand on your shoulder, his touch light. “do not worry.”
but you did worry, all throughout the walk to the king’s advisory chambers to when you enter the door, startling him out of whatever hushed conversation he was engaged in with his staff. when he looks at you he is angry, and you’re glad in that moment for christopher’s warning. you moved with more confidence than you truly had, chris and felix’ presence at your sides helping more than you cared to admit. 
“you wanted to see me, sire?” you ask, your hands wringing together. felix takes one of them into his own, if only to stop your movements.
“i wanted to discuss things with you,” stephen waves off his advisors, waiting for them to leave the chambers before continuing. “regarding your father.”
“my father is dead,” you state plainly, moving forward until you were in front of the king. “i swear fealty to you, my lord.”
you slowly knelt at his feet, gasping in surprise when felix knelt by your side. 
“whatever i can do to prove my loyalty, i will do it,” you assured, keeping your head down. normally, you would internally bristle at the thought of kneeling before a king like this, in an act of submission, but this time it was different. this time, it was your choice. 
“you have proven your loyalty by going against your own kin, my child,” his voice was thick with emotion. “please, stand.”
you don’t, until felix does and pulls you along with him. you’re confused at his immediate acceptance of you, the daughter of a man who wished him such ill-will. you look at him and you’re sure he can see the puzzlement on your face.
“i did not ask for you here to make you prove yourself,” he explains, gesturing at the papers strewn about the table. your father’s notes. “i simply wished to thank you, for preventing such heinous acts from occurring. these notes…” he pauses, as if gathering his thoughts. “are unsettling. more were found in his chambers, detailing increasingly vicious flights of fancy.”
you would learn later that in your father’s notes were his plans for you, for once his own were executed. perhaps stephen felt pity for you as a result of what he saw. when you meet eyes with the king, any trace of anger is gone, replaced with a deep kind of sadness.
“thank you, for keeping my family safe at the sake of your own welfare. anything you wish for, i will grant it.” 
your mind screams at you that you don’t deserve it, that you had put them in more harm than anything, that he doesn’t owe you any kindness. 
“i wish for nothing that i do not already have,” you glance at felix, shooting him a small smile when you notice the pride gleaming on his face. 
───•───•───✧𓆩⟡𓆪✧───•───•───
it takes less of jumping through diplomatic hoops than you would have expected to sign your kingdom over to stephen. the lands were adjacent to one another, so rearranging property lines was as simple as removing a single line from a parchment map. you learned that it was more common than you had originally thought to combine kingdoms, though usually it resulted from acts of war. you were queen for all of two days before officially resigning.
your father, for all his boasting, did not carry many alliances with other nations, and the ones he did have stephen was glad to cut off. your father’s knights did little more than grumble about having to change their colors, and the ones that refused to were promptly dismissed from service.
the castle that was once your home was a different case; you never wished to go back there, other than to gather the things that still held your mother’s touch. that place hasn’t been a home to you in a while, but you decided that it could be a home to someone. 
it would take some time, but you had plans to turn the palace into an orphanage. a place where everyone and anyone could come and seek shelter, food and water, and company. it was the least you could do for your people, who had suffered under your blind eye for over a decade while you sat in your chambers, ignorant to all that was going on outside the palace walls.
the biggest relief was the weight of your kingdom off of your shoulders. maybe it was selfish to think that way, but you had never asked for that life. you knew your people were in better hands with stephen than they ever would have been with your bloodline, and you could think of no better successors than chris and roseanne. 
you had your ladies in waiting brought from your old palace, but they did little more than help you dress. jeongin had become your formal assistant, but you considered him a friend and a confidant more than anything. you had offered him and his family whatever he wanted, now that the riches your father held were in your name, but he had refused. he simply asked for a new house in the lower village for his parents and siblings, but stated that he wished to remain in the castle. 
you and felix decided to hold off on announcing a formal betrothal, deeming it wiser to let the kingdom that had nearly doubled in size settle first. you had not been together long, after all, and most of your time together was spent with you under a guise. you took the time to relearn each other, to memorize every miniscule detail of the other’s personality, your habits and your mannerisms and your preferences. despite your earlier reservations, propriety mattered little with the two of you; you spent even more time together than you did before, and you had all but moved into his chambers, only using yours when you wanted someplace quiet to think. 
you don’t remember a time when you were happier than you were now. for the first time in your life, you looked toward the future with brightness.  
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kaiser-author-san-iii · 2 years ago
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Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader
A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3
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Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?
Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,
Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.
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Masterlist>>
Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome
Silence.
What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?
They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.
The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.
"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"
Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.
But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)
They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.
For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.
"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"
Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.
Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.
"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."
That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!
"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"
"Everyone?"
At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.
"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.
He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.
While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.
Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.
"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.
The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.
The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.
"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"
Eh?
-x-
It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.
Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.
Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.
But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...
Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.
If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.
While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.
During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.
The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.
"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.
Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.
[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.
They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.
Ehe.
Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.
The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.
Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."
And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.
'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'
TAGLIST:
@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir
@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33
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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago
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No Alarms and No Surprises, Please
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I had this idea and decided to write it "real quick" (it took like two hours). I meant to do just like a really short thing so I could eat lunch and then get back to work, but then my brain was like no we gotta set up context
Titled after the song "No Surprises" by Radiohead. It doesn't exactly fit, but it felt right in my mind
Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments
Word Count: 1,863
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
You peeked slowly around the corner, holding your breath. Astarion hovered just behind you, almost touching you as you both surveyed your surroundings.
It was a palace, that much you knew. You also knew the guards were exceptionally strong. You already wasted enough healing spells and potions on the two guarding the door - you were just lucky they didn’t call for reinforcements. You also knew there was an artifact deep within the heart of this place that could provide some insight into removing the tadpoles.
“We’ll have to go around,” you breathe out slowly to the spawn. He gives a slight nod. As much as he loved bloodshed, sneak-killing all of them would be too high a risk. You almost came face to face with him when you look over your shoulder. He gives you a knowing smirk as he backs off. You nod down a side-hall. “That way.”
You gesture to Gale and Shadowheart, making sure they knew the plan. They nodded, waiting. You turn back to the patrolling sentinels. Their movements are constant and predictable, each pace following the same amount of steps. They sync, facing away from your destination, and you wave a hand for a companion to go.
Gale, ever the gentleman, lets Shadowheart go first. She hides behind the wall, out of sight. You wait again and gesture for Gale to go. He bites back complaints about his knees that creak under the duress of sneaking. He arrives just as a guard turns. Astarion could hear your heart thumping wildly in your chest; it pounds so loud in your ears you can’t even hear the guards’ footsteps anymore.
He wraps a hand around your waist, carefully pulling you away from the corner. You stare at him, worried he’s noticed something wrong. He nods toward the hall where your companions wait. “You first,” he whispers.
You want to argue - he can see the wheels turning in your head as you frown at him. As the de facto leader, you always worked to ensure everyone else was safe before you. You rested a little easier knowing you’d be the one in harm's way should something go wrong. But Astarion was a rogue, and used to sneaking around to boot. He would be much better at timing his dash to the hall than you could.
After a moment, you nodded. He pushed you back to his prior spot as he takes your place, poking an eye around the corner and studying them. He thought you’d die of a heart attack if this went on any longer. When the guards turn, he taps your waist. You crouch as quickly as you can to Gale and Shadowheart. They greet you with a tense nod.
You wait in silence for Astarion.
He almost spooks you when he comes silently around the corner. But now, further from the immediate threat, you have a chance to breathe.
The hallway stretches on for what seems like forever. Closed doors and open arch-ways line each side, perfectly mirrored. At the end, there’s a very small statue - but you’re sure it’s life size up close. The prospect of a maze with the ever-looming fear of getting caught doesn’t exactly thrill you, nor any of your companions, but nothing can be done for it.
You sigh and lead them onward.
It’s too risky to peek inside the rooms - if there were patrols inside you’d all be jumped and killed within minutes. At each arch, you glance around the corner, down the other equally as endless corridors. It’s oddly quiet. Not a guard in sight, even on grander doors that seem like they should be protected. It leaves you on edge. Waiting for the boot to drop and leave you in mortal peril. At the very least, you feel safe enough to stand up. It saves you from Gale’s grumbling.
You peer around another corridor and try to imagine the layout of the palace. You’d found a map once, but it was too tattered to make anything useful out. The most information you gleaned from it was where the staircases were. If you could find your way to one of those, you’d be able to go down, deeper into the belly of the beast. You believe, if your slipping memory of the map was correct, you could turn down this way and go all the way to the end, and there would be stairwells on either side of the very-tiny-life-sized-statue.
Resolved to your plan, you step through the ornate marble arch. You feel the pain before you register where it’s coming from. You collapse to the floor, cushioned only by a strong arm and solid body. A hand clamps over your mouth, pressing down tight to keep any sound from slipping through.
Oh. That breathless tightness in your chest is not from the pain. It’s you screaming. Trying to, at least. Your eyes dart frantically around as your body writhes against the person holding you. Gale and Shadowheart appear in front of you, kneeling down and working as fast as they can to help.
One of your legs feels weighed down. You stare at the chunk of metal for too long before it finally registers the trap clamping down on your leg. It looks and acts like a bear trap, but it’s been improved to burn red-hot when activated.
Fear grips you like a vice. You become conscious of the fact the teeth of the trap are almost meeting. It’s bitten through your bone. Or nearly through, anyway. You didn’t process it, too busy being victimized by the sadistic mechanics of the device, but Astarion, Shadowheart and Gale all felt nauseous as the crack continues to echo in their mind.
“Shh,” comes a whisper by your ear. You whimper and gasp and struggle, but the arm around your waist only re-wraps around you to pin your arms down. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”
Astarion looks away from your injury, peering down the halls. The sound of the bone snapping was loud enough to attract attention, he just didn’t know how much, or when they’d be coming. Not to mention where they’d come from. For all he knew, their luck had run out, and any second a swarm of golden-armored bastards would be charging down the hall they were in.
“We need to get out of the open,” he hissed to the cleric and wizard.
Gale cast an ice spell, focusing all his energy in freezing the hinge of the device. If he could get it cold enough, it would become brittle, and they could dismantle it and pull it from your leg like cracking open an oyster. Shadowheart focused on healing the burns being inflicted to your skin as they were happening. It smelled uncomfortably like meat roast. Your blood vessels were cauterized. Astarion could hardly take solace in the fact when the usually-delicious scent of your ichor was replaced with the smell of cooking flesh.
“We can’t move them yet,” Shadowheart whispered, barely biting back her panic. She couldn’t keep healing you forever.
Gale grunted, brow furrowing further as he willed the ice to freeze faster, freeze colder around the metal.
Astarion felt useless, watching and unable to help. Holding you while you thrashed in agony was all he could do. He hoped to the gods he wouldn’t reveal a bruise over your mouth when this was finished. “I’m here,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. It was all he could think to do. “You need to keep still, love. It’ll be over soon.”
The words didn’t reach. You knew he was speaking when his breath fanned over your ear, but the speech-centers of your brain were thoroughly turned off. As were any of the logic-centers. Anything that could have told you they were helping, to calm down and stop moving, was replaced instead with klaxons and sirens urging you to struggle and fight back against the pain.
Footsteps. Loud and clanging. Getting closer. Astarion cursed. “We have to hide,” he hissed again, panicked.
There was no time to argue. They all seemed to have the same idea as Astarion pushed himself across the floor with his legs, pulling you with him. Shadowheart and Gale stopped casting in favor of moving your legs, as carefully as they could possibly manage. Hot tears slipped over Astarion’s hand as you thrashed violently with the motion. But now, at least, you were tucked into a corner. Hidden behind a pillar that framed the arch of the hallway. Everyone held their breaths. You didn’t catch the memo, but the spell-casters held your legs down so you wouldn’t make as much noise.
The clanging of armor rose in volume until the echoes through the corridors nearly deafened everyone. You momentarily stopped fighting. Though, Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because the sound had reached past your pain, or if your body was giving out under the duress.
The steps - 3 guards, if Astarion had to guess by ear - slowed from a run to pacing the juncture of the halls. They circled around, stopping occasionally. One set of steps stopped mere feet away. If Astarion leaned forward slightly, he could make out the point of a nose. Shadowheart and Gale slowly pressed themselves back into the shadow of the pillar.
Something touching his hand startled him. He had to fight not to physically jump and draw attention. A hand, your hand, rested weakly over his. He let go of your arm and turned his hand to hold yours. He could feel you whimper in his hold, the shake of your breaths as they hit hot against his hand. You were scared. He was, too.
He squeezed your hand and looked back at the pillar. The steps hadn’t moved. The sentry was still there.
Seconds ticked away at a snail’s pace. They all worried for a moment the guards had chosen to stay there and patrol the intersection. Then the sentinel stepped back from the arch. More footsteps followed. A pause. He could only imagine they were silently saying they did not find anything. And then the cacophony of armor drowned out any last doubt as they retreated back down the hall.
They all let out sighs of relief, even Astarion who had no need for air. He turned his focus back down to you. Your eyes were shut, your breaths were evened out. You’d fallen unconscious. It was a small mercy.
“Hurry up so we can get the Hells out of here,” he huffed. Shadowheart and Gale nodded, equally as eager to get back to safety, and returned to work.
Astarion slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Light bruises where his fingertips had been began rising through the surface of your skin. He sighed, upset at the pain he caused even through necessity, and brushed a tender kiss over the darkest of the bunch. He was too overwhelmed with relief to care if the others saw him. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered again, even though they did not reach you. He was reassuring himself more than anything. It would have been pathetic, if he could think about anything other than your wellbeing. “I’m here, darling.”
---
Tag List:
@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars
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thelargefrye · 1 year ago
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CLEOPATRA … mature one - shot | part one
pairing : ateez x f!reader
genre : mature, fantasy, royalty, ancient egypt inspired setting, smut
word count : 6k
warnings : language, heavy nudity (sexual and non-sexual), yn is viewed as a descendant of the gods, infidelity (its a loveless marriage but they are still married), drinking
smut warnings : unprotected sex, multiple smut scenes (3 total), slight exhibitionism, oral (f), mentions of past pregnancy sex, some of the guys have a breeding kink, masturbation, slight cum eating
honorary suffer tag : @sanjoongie
inspired by this tiktok.
you had power that no man could ever imagine. as such you bowed to no one. you were known throughout the continent as the ruler that would protect her country no matter the cost.
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hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh, a hand running through his black locks as he walked down one of the many corridors of the extravagant palace. he walks in long strides, ignoring all the servants that pause and bow at him. he'll feel bad about not acknowledging them later, but right now he's on a mission.
he approaches your private quarters, yunho standing guard outside of your chambers doors like always. that's tells him that you are at least in your chambers. wherever you are is where yunho will always be.
when hongjoong comes closer to your chambers, that's when yunho finally turns to look at the first prince consort. his eyes sharp and always on guard.
"her highness is a little busy at the moment, your highness," yunho's voice is just as stoic as his eyes, cold and on guard.
"i don't care, this is important," hongjoong brushes him off and yunho does nothing to stop him from entering. not that he would anyways, hongjoong is one of the few people aside from yourself that the guard would listen to.
hongjoong doesn't waste a second in bursting through the doors to your quarters. the highly decorated chambers shows how you are the ruler of isis and descendant of the gods. the gold lining the room was something one of the first rulers of the country had done in order to show how important and godly they were. hongjoong remembers you mentioning several times how you hate the over the top gold in the room and how you desperately want it gone.
however, your father would probably come back from the underworld if you ever tried to change anything about the pharaoh's private quarters.
hongjoong is knocked out of his thoughts when he is greeted by the sight of you riding wooyoung. hongjoong can't help but feel his mouth run dry at the sight of you energetically bouncing on wooyoung's cock. your breast bouncing and he watches wooyoung squeeze one of them, the other slapping your ass and gripping and squeezing the flesh tightly. hongjoong feels himself getting hard from the scene in front of him. you always looked like you were glowing when one of them fucked you.
a beautiful goddess surrounded with nothing but love and he would gladly worship you for the rest of his life if he could.
but not right now, right now he needed to speak with you.
"y/n," his voice breaks through the lustful atmosphere in the room. you turn your head to look at your first husband, a parchment gripped in his hands from the news he had received from a guard. you falter your speed for a second, distracted by hongjoong's appearance and wooyoung takes this moment to flip the two of you over.
your head now at the foot of large, silk covered bed, legs now bent over the top half of your body as wooyoung pounds into your pussy. his hips moving at a first pace that has your eyes rolling back from the feeling. you can feel him hitting the deepest parts of your pussy, almost like he was about to penetrate into your womb. not that you would mind.
"ho-hong-joong~" you moan out, looking at your husband, mouth open in the perfect o-shape.
"hey, hey, hey! don't be saying his name when i'm balls deep inside of you!" wooyoung pouted making you whine when he did an extra hard thrust inside of you.
"y/n, something urgent has come up," hongjoong says, completely ignoring the fact that you and wooyoung were still fucking.
"w-what's wrong?" you ask, watching as hongjoong moves closer to you and wooyoung, now standing the end of the bed. you have to crane your head back in order to look at him upside down. you notice the look of concern over his face and you use one of your hands to reach for his. intertwining your hands together.
"there's been news about the minerva empire wanting to invade isis and take over," hongjoong says. "some of our spies have sent word about minerva's emperor planning something."
"minerva's emperor? isn't he that old bastard who was about to keel over?" you ask, remembering the emperor seonghwa had described to you during his travels several years ago.
"apparently he died two years ago and their new emperor is suppose to be this great war general. they've been invading and conquering smaller countries, adding to their empire," hongjoong tells you and the sudden news of this former war general has caught your attention.
it seems to have caught wooyoung's as well, as your second husband has seemingly stopped fucking you in favor of listening to hongjoong. wooyoung moves off of you in favor of relaxing against the silk pillows that laid fluffed at the head of your bed. you sat up, turning to face hongjoong with neither you nor wooyoung opting to cover up your bare bodies.
"a new emperor?" you said, tilting your head in wonder at this news. "i'm not worried, joongie, isis is a great empire that can not be invaded that easily," you tell him, running your hand down his chest. your fingers grazing over the soft fabric of his tunic.
"but y/n this is serious!" you notice the worry in his tone at the thought of the minerva empire even thinking of invading your home, his home, and your daughter's home.
"joong–
"why don't you just invite this new emperor here and throw a banquet for him?" wooyoung speaks up after having remained silent. you both turn to see wooyoung lounging behind you, hands behind his head like he had no care in the world. "if you invite him and show off the amount of power you and isis hold, then maybe that will make him think twice about invading."
"you mean assert dominance?" hongjoong asks and wooyoung nods.
"wow, wooyoung, that's pretty smart," you say, a teasing smile on your face as your crawl towards him and settle down next to him.
wooyoung lets out a small 'tsk' sound at your words, "give me more credit, dove, i'm smarter than i look," he teases back, wrapping his arms around you.
"joongie, call seonghwa and my advisor. let's send out an invite to our new little emperor," you say, a smile overtaking your features. hongjoong looks like he wants to say something, and you wait for him to but he changes his mind. he simply nods his head before turning heading for the door to summon seonghwa and your advisor.
seonghwa was a little worried when a servant had come to him while he was with his daughter, telling him that you had summoned him. his daughter's nanny was quick to take her out of his arms. seonghwa makes sure to press a quick kiss to the top of her head before he is bidding her goodbye and taking his leave.
when he approaches your chambers, jongho trailing behind him, he is greeted with the sight of yunho and yeosang both standing guard now at your door.
"is everything alright?" seonghwa asks the two guards.
yeosang is the one to speak up to answer the consort, "the pharaoh as requested for you and her advisor. prince consort hongjoong and prince consort wooyoung are already inside."
seonghwa can't help but raise his eyebrow at the guard's words, but nonetheless goes into your quarters. when he enters, he finds you and wooyoung wrapped in your golden robes, it being quite obvious that you are bare underneath. you're sitting at your table by the balcony doors which are open and letting in the warm afternoon air. hongjoong is standing next to you and wooyoung is still on your bed.
your advisor is sitting on a stool next you, writing your words down as you say them.
"what's going on?" seonghwa asks, earning the attention of everyone in the room, say for your advisor.
"her highness and wooyoung have had the amazing idea of inviting the enemy into our home to throw him a banquet," hongjoong says and you can all hear the irritation in his voice. you ignore him.
"there's rumors of the minvera empire and their new emperor wanting to invade isis, so i'm inviting him to show him that it is not something he wants to do," you explain to seonghwa, watching as he comes up to you.
seonghwa takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it before he is sitting down in chair across from you. "new emperor?" he asks, echoing your words and he sees hongjoong nod his head.
"apparently he's a great war general. what did you say his name was?" you ask, looking towards hongjoong and your advisor.
"san," hongjoong answered.
"ah, yes! emperor san," you say, a bright smile on your face; however, you three husbands can tell how this is not a genuine smile and that you are hiding something behind it. something that none of them have figured out yet.
"san..." seonghwa says trailing off, trying to remember if he's heard that name before. "ah! that's the name of the general that led minerva into victory during their takeover of the apollo kingdom," seonghwa says once the memory finally came to him.
"oh? that was him?" you ask, sounding impressed by the information you just learned.
"y/n, are you sure you want to invite him? what if they try to attack while inside the kingdom?" seonghwa asks, voice his concern that both him and hongjoong now have.
"hmm," you trail off for a moment, not saying anything, but clearly thinking, "yunho!" your voice is loud and commanding and the doors to your chamber open to the sight of your personal guard coming into the room.
you beckon the guard over and he walks to you before kneeling down next to you, "yes, my pharaoh?" he asks, eyes looking downward to the ground as to not disrespect you. it was known that anyone that wasn't one of your consort husbands could never make eye contact. it was forbidden to look at a descendant of the gods like they were on the same level as any other human.
"if there was an enemy inside the kingdom, would you kill them the second they tried to bring harm to me and the kingdom?" you ask, hand combing through the guard's dark locks and brushing them away from his eyes. despite him not making eye contact with you, you can't help but admire yunho's eyes.
"yes, my pharaoh. i would kill anyone for you," he says making a large grin stretch onto your face as you look from your personal guard to your two worried husbands.
"woobin," your advisor snaps to attention at the call of his name, "finish writing and send out the invitation to emperor san immediately."
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"i can't believe the bastard agreed to come," hongjoong says as he lets out an annoyed sigh despite sinking into the warm water of the large bath that him, seonghwa, and wooyoung shared.
the bathhouse was the one place that you never entered, it was only for the prince consorts and any sons that they had with you. a place for only them to sit and relax in. the place decorated like the rest of the castle, after you had made servants redo the bath after your father and grandfather had left it to basically fall apart. your husbands deserved a place to relax in peace and you would be damned if they had to suffer through a bathhouse room like your mother and your father's other wives had to.
"of course he did, it was an open invitation to come and take a look at the country without the worry of losing men," seonghwa says as he relaxed next to hongjoong who had a deep frown on his face. "y/n knows what she's doing, maybe we should just trust her," he adds.
"she has a plan, i could tell from her face," hongjoong sighs, "i'm just annoyed that i don't know what she's thinking."
"have a little more faith in our pharaoh, you two," wooyoung's voice echos as he walks into the bath. hongjoong can't help but roll his eyes at wooyoung who is once again naked, not bothering to even cover himself with a towel like the other two have.
"wooyoung, can you be any more shameful?" seonghwa asks, looking away from the younger male who walks down the white marble steps and into the water.
"yah, don't be jealous, hwa, green isn't your color," wooyoung teases as he settles into the water. "but i think you two are doubting y/n. she knows what she's doing, she has been pharaoh for a while now," he adds looking at his fellow consorts.
"i'm just worried is all. i don't want anyone to be in danger," seonghwa says voicing his main concern. he's worried that this emperor will try to not only harm you but also your children. he would die if something happened to his daughter.
"you're not the only one worried, hwa," wooyoung says, snapping the eldest out of his thoughts. "i'm worried about the enemy coming here as well, but i also trust y/n."
"i guess you're right," hongjoong says, finally speaking back up after watching the two go back and forth. "we should trust y/n and her decisions, but the worry will still be there."
you couldn't help the breathy moan that ripped through your throat as you threw your head back onto the lush amount of pillows. you had to try your best to not close your legs around yunho's head, knowing that he would stop if you didn't keep your legs open.
his tongue continued to lick your pussy, at this point basically making out with your lower lips. his nose continuously nudging your clit and adding to the stimulation that coursed through your lower half, sending a warmth through your entire body.
"hmm~ yunho!" you moan out, tugging at his dark locks causing him to let out a groan that vibrates through you. you felt yunho's hands come up to grip your thighs, massaging and digging his fingers into the flesh. you feel his tongue flicking in and out of you before he's flattening his tongue and licking up your pussy.
you feel your eyes roll back, head tilting, and back arching thanks to the pleasurable feeling. sometimes you can't believe how good yunho makes you feel, mainly because of how cold and emotionless he is when on duty. yet despite the harsh stare he gives you while eating your pussy, he still manages to make your toes curl.
"does that feel good, pharaoh?" he asks, tone deep and breath warm as it fans over your slowly heating up skin.
"mmh, yes~ please keep going," you tell him and he chuckles before diving back in. "so good," you breath out softly.
you were honestly still surprised by how willing yunho was to please you since the beginning. always taking care of you even when you were pregnant. you remember settling between his legs and letting his calloused hands roam your body and touch you.
"yu-yunho?" your voice breaks through the peaceful silence that the two of you had set. you look down at your guard to find him looking up at you. his eyes boring into your own, as it was the only time he could look at you like how your husbands do. because in this moment he wasn't your guard, but your lover. "do you think– fuck, right there– do you think... that i shouldn't have, mmh, invited e-emperor san?"
that questioning had been weighing on you since that conversation weeks ago. the way hongjoong and seonghwa were against it made you want to reconsider everything, yet you need to make sure this new emperor of the minerva empire knew not to mess with you. you were the pharaoh of isis, you had a duty to look powerful and protect your country and people. your husbands included.
you watch as yunho pulls away from your pussy before he's sitting up and resting on his knees. his face void of emotions like it always was.
"what would you like to hear, my pharaoh?" he asks and you make an annoyed huff sound before rolling your eyes at him.
"your honest opinion," you tell him.
yunho hums before he's casually lifting your leg up, letting your calf rest on his shoulder. he presses a few kisses to your leg as it looks like he's in thought.
"i think that if you did it for a reason then my pharaoh shouldn't worry about any danger the emperor of minerva might bring. you cannot change the past, but you can change the future," he says as his hand comes up to cup your heat, running his fingers through your drenched folds.
"gosh, who knew you could be so wise," you huff out with a teasing tone.
"i can be very wise if my pharaoh wants me to be, or i can be as savage as the rest of my people," he says, repeating words that many people of isis have said about yunho's people.
"would being a savage get you to fuck me?" you question, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at your guard who towered over you in this moment.
"if i fuck my pharaoh like a savage, i can't guarantee i won't get you pregnant with my savage heir," he says as you watch him remove the fabrics that covered his lower half and his hard cock standing tall and proud and waiting to breed.
"hmm, that sounds nice, that means i get to keep you to myself. i am a very selfish pharaoh after all. would you fill me up and give me my first bastard child," you say and yunho licks his lips before he's using the head of his cock to tease and rub between your folds. slicking you up with his pre-cum.
"i'll do whatever my pharaoh wants," he tells you making a cheshire grin spread across your lips as you felt him enter you.
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"ah! welcome, emperor san, it is a pleasure to met you," you say, a welcoming smile on your face as you watched the male walk up the large stoned steps of the palace in order to approach you.
you had to admit that san was a handsome man. his jaw was sharp and defined and his skin was sun-kissed. his feline-like eyes darting around and looking at his surroundings before they settle on your form. his eyes rack over your silk covered body and you notice how he faintly licks his lips before he stoping a good distance in front of you.
"of course," his voice is strong like the rest of him, "i was pleasantly surprised when i received your invitation, pharaoh," he adds, hands coming to rest behind his back. his shoulders are straight and you notice how his muscles bulge underneath his tunic and armor. fuck, you could definitely see the former war general side of him when he stands like this.
"well, i just wanted to congratulate and get to know the new emperor of minerva. even if i am two years late which i apologize for," you say, a bashful smile on your lips, but san easily brushes the comment off.
"it's quite alright, pharaoh. better late than never, and i do love a party, especially when it's in my honor," he says making you laugh.
"shall we go inside then? my servants will show your men to their rooms before being escorted to the banquet hall," you tell him and san nods his head taking several steps forward before he's offering you his arm which you happily take.
"does this mean i get a private tour by the great pharaoh goddess herself, then?" he asks, a smirk overtaking his lips and you let out a small hum at his question.
"of course, nothing but the best for my honorary guest," you tell him as you both walk into the palace, the swarm of people following behind the two of you.
"and this is where my consorts' quarters are located," you say and you notice how this catches san's attention.
"how many consorts do you have?" he asks.
"i have three; hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa," you say feeling a sense of pride as you speak of your husbands. even if was just saying their names.
"do you love your husbands?" you're a little surprised by his question but you do your best to hide your surprise.
"yes, i love them very much," you tell him and san can only nod his head at your answer as you both continue to walk. "are you married?"
"i am. i have a wife, siyeon," he says and you notice how he doesn't seem as energetic to talk about her like you are about your husbands.
"i'm sure she's very beautiful," you tell him with a soft smile and san can only nod. "do you have any children?"
"no. none yet," he answers sharply and you make note about how he doesn't want to talk about his wife.
"tell me, emperor san," you begin, earning his attention, "do you like to fuck or make love?" now this question caught him off guard, and you had to try hard to suppress your grin. "or which one do you prefer? fucking or making love?" you're teasing him now and you can tell that san is quick to catch on to your tone.
"i like to fuck," he says taking a deep breath as he watches you run a hand down his arm, his muscles twitching under your touch. "but i would prefer to make love. let it be raw and real," he adds and you let a small smile grace your lips.
"do you fuck your wife? or do you need someone else to pleasure you?" you ask, your hand coming to rest around the back of his neck. your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.
"it depends," he begins lower his face closer to yours so your lips are inches a part, "is her highness offering to let me fuck her raw in her own private quarters?"
"it depends," you say mimicking his words, "tomorrow night when the moon is at its highest. i'll be waiting for you," you tell him. "but right now everyone is waiting for us, it would be rude to keep your men waiting," you say, slipping away from him as you begin to walk towards the banquet hall, leaving san to catch up with you.
when you and san entered the banquet hall, many of the isis nobles and soldiers from minerva seemed to be chattering and enjoying themselves. you were quick to notice hongjoong, wooyoung, and seonghwa sitting in their spots near the head of the table. however, a spot to your right was left open in order for san to sit next to you.
"i made sure to prepare a mixture of classic foods from both isis and minerva, in order to add some variety and flavor for everyone here," you explain as you and san walk down the table. the nobles from your country bowing as you walked by while the soldiers from minerva bowed to san.
"i'm impressed with how much you prepared, pharaoh," he says and you smile at him as you gesture to his seat next to hongjoong and across from wooyoung. you take your seat at the head of the table and look to see all the nobles still bowing their heads as they wait for you to speak.
"please, continue enjoying yourselves. this is a celebration for our honored guest," you say with a smile and the nobles are quick to obey your words.
"and these are my beautiful consort husbands," you say with a smile as your gesture to the three males. "the one beside you is hongjoong, the one across from you is wooyoung, and next to him is seonghwa."
wooyoung smiled at you as he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. his fingers intertwining with yours as you continued your conversation with san. you noticed how san looked at your and wooyoung's hands before his eyes flickered up to meet yours.
"a pleasure to meet you three," he says with a firm smile, and the tree males all return the smile with firm ones of their own.
the banquet continues as you planned it would. many of the nobles and soldiers drinking and eating to their hearts content for the next few hours. entertainment in the background going on with music and dancers. you and san watched as some of his men attempted to dance like some of your dancers, but failed miserably due to their drunkenness. his second in command, mingi was probably the only one not to fail miserably, but still struggled to keep up.
eventually, wooyoung even got up and was able to dance. you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips as you watched him move effortlessly in time with the music.
"wow, he's really good at dancing," san says as you both watch your second husband.
"wooyoung was originally a dancer before i married him. he could dance to anything whether sober or drunk," you brag and san only nods his head at your words.
it was only a few hours later when most of san's men had dragged themselves and each other to their rooms. several servants following after them to help them find their way. at the same time, the nobles also stumbled out of the palace as they made their way back to their own homes.
you personally escorted san back to his room and before you could bid him goodnight, he's pulling you in close to him. your nose squished against his as he lips ghosted over yours from how close you both where.
"be prepared for me, i plan on making it raw and real," he says, before he's letting you go and licking his lips.
"of course, emperor san, i'll be waiting. goodnight," you say, before you turn on your heel and walk back down the grand corridor. making sure to let your hips sway as you walked away.
when you returned to your own quarters, you were not surprised to find your three lovers waiting for you. you let out a sigh as you walked past them and over to your vanity in order to start removing your jewelry and makeup.
"what's your plan, y/n?" hongjoong asks as you both look at each other through your mirror.
"i'm going to get him to marry me," you say, turning to look at your husband. "then we will have a strong ally," you add.
"that was your plan this whole time?" hongjoong asks, voice raising as he is complete applaud by your words.
"no, i didn't think of it until i saw him. i knew i wanted to become allies but knowing he's in a loveless marriage just makes this plan even better."
"you're a nasty woman," wooyoung says a wide grin on his face, his hyena laugh echoing through your quarters. "i love it," he adds making you giggle as you finish removing your makeup. you then stand up and begin to undress. letting your dress fall and become a puddle around your ankles leaving you bare to your three husbands.
"this is a bad idea, y/n," hongjoong says as you come up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. your body flush against his clothed one. a chill runs down your spine when you feel his cold hands run over your skin. "what happens if this plan fails?"
"it won't fail. i won't let it," you tell him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. "i already have him falling into my grasp. i'm close to getting somewhere."
"trust her, joong. if he fucks the god pussy then he won't be able to say no to her," wooyoung says, speaking up from his place on your bed. you turn to give wooyoung a sneaky grin which he returns. "i should know, once you fuck god pussy, you won't want nothing else but it."
"have more respect for your wife and pharaoh, wooyoung," seonghwa says finally speaking up for the first time tonight.
"don't be pissy, hwa, you're just mad you haven't fucked her in a while," wooyoung throws back and you realize that he's right.
it has been a while since you and seonghwa have been together. pulling away from hongjoong, you quickly make yourself comfortable between seonghwa's legs. kneeling between your husband, you let your hands run up and down his thighs as he looks down at you.
"what do you think, hwa? do you trust me?"
"o-of course, love, i trust you and i believe you know what you are doing," he says and you smile before kissing the skin of his thigh that was peeking underneath his tunic.
"when are you going to talk to him?" hongjoong asks as he watches you slowly trail your hands up, moving seonghwa's tunic up as you do so.
"he's going to visit me tomorrow night."
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"i wasn't expecting you to be this prepared when waiting for me," san says with a smirk as he enters your chambers to the sight of you touching yourself. your middle and ring fingers covered in your slick juices as you slide them in and out of your wet pussy. the heat of your core sending pleasurable chills up your spine.
"f-figured i'd give you a personal show," you say with a smile as you watch san stalk closer to you. he easily unties and discards the robe that was around him, showing you that he was wearing nothing underneath it. his half hard cock slowly growing the more he watched you.
he stood at the foot of your bed, watching as you continued to fuck yourself before he was crawling onto the bed and closer to you. san watched with sharp eyes as you used your free hand to grope your breast. squeezing the flesh of your tit and pinching your nipple and tweaking it.
san couldn't help but groan when he watched you remove your fingers to see them coated in your juices. he quickly grasped your wrist before popping your fingers into his mouth. his tongue wrapping around your digits, cleaning them before he's removing them with a clean pop. you couldn't help the stuttered moan that left your lips.
"so," he begins as he crawls up body, his hands pressing into the silk sheets below you as he props himself up. "why does the beautiful pharaoh want to have her pussy fucked by someone like me? compared to your husbands, i'm definitely not your type of man," he says, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks.
"i love sex, i'll fuck whoever i want," you reply making him chuckle before he's sitting up and positioning himself between your legs.
"yeah? then you'll let me fuck you? what happens if i get you pregnant with my heir?" he asks as he positions himself, the head of his cock teasing your entrance and running between your folds. you let out a loud cry as you felt him thrust his cock inside of you in one thrust. your back arches as san has your legs propped onto your shoulders.
his pace is immediate and ruthless. almost animalistic like his primal instincts are taking over as he fucks you.
"f-fuck san!" you shout, not caring who hears. not caring about how yunho is outside your door right now, listening as san pounds away at your pussy, using it how he pleases.
"what will happen if– if i fill you up full of my cum? leave you nice and full for the rest of my stay here?" he looks hypnotized as he watches your breast bounce with each of his thrust.
"do you want an heir? w-want a child between the two of us, something– fuck! something you don't have with your wife back in minerva?" you taunt him and san groans as he rolls his head back at your words.
you let out a loud gasp, back arching as your mouth forms a perfect o-shape and san knows he hit a sweet spot. he can't help but think you look beautiful especially like this.
"s-so, i've heard you wa-want to– fuck, form an alliance between isis and minerva," he says and you can't help but run your hands down his chest.
"y-yeah, i want to combine our powers," you tell him as you pull him closer to you, you clench hard around his cock and san has to keep himself from feeling lost in the feelings of your pussy sucking him in.
"combine our powers?" he echoes, hips continue to drill into you as the room is overpowered with the sounds of skin on skin mixed with your heavy moans.
"we– we could be unstoppable," you tell him as you feel yourself growing closer to your climax.
"you think so? is that why you want my cock?" he teases as you clench once more around him. "i'd fill your cunt with my cum as our two empires become allies, is that all you really want?"
with one final thrust, its enough to have you coming around him. your walls tighten around his cock and it makes it almost impossible for him to continue moving in that moment. he lets out a deep groan at the tightness but ignores it in order to continue his movements. his thrusts prolonging your orgasm. he wants to extend it just a little longer. wants to extend the feeling of you two connected and as one. something he's never felt before, especially with his wife.
"s-san," you call out his name before he's crashing his lips onto yours. he can tell how fucked out you're becoming the longer he continues to abuse your poor pussy.
he doesn't ever want this feeling of raw emotions to stop. san's decided that he likes feeling like this.
"f-fuck, why does your pussy feel so good," he groans as he continues to thrust into you. your moans like music to his ears as he continues to listen to you let out breathy moan and call out his name. despite being a drooling and moaning mess beneath him, san thinks you look breathtaking.
"s-san, lets becoming one," you say and san groans at your words. he does a particularly harsh and deep thrust and you swear that it hits the entrance to your womb. you feel your eyes roll back as you clench tightly around his cock.
"sure, lets... lets become one, my pharaoh," he says as he looks at you with an equally fucked out face.
"please..." you begin to say, "call me y/n," you finish and san smiles at your words.
"y/n... y/n, y/n, y/n!" with every pronounce of your name, he does an equally harsh thrust into your leaking and abused pussy. you feel san begin to stutter in his thrusts before he's finally coming with a cry of your name. you can't help but come one more time as you feel san paint your walls with his thick cum.
you know everyone in the palace will know what the two of you did tonight, but you don't care. you had san wrapped around your finger and it was only a matter of time before you officially became as one.
san let out a groan as he rolled onto his back next to you. a layer of sweat covering his golden body making it look shiny as he relaxed into your sheets. you turn onto your side, immediately cuddling up next to him and he has a blissed out smile on his face as he holds you close.
"was that raw and real enough for you?" you tease, a hand coming up to trace the toned muscles of his chest and abs. "so about that alliance..."
"fuck..." is all he says before you're moving to straddle him. "i want you to come visit minerva in a months time and there we can... discuss this alliance."
you can't help the smirk that graces your lips before you're leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. you couldn't wait to rub it into hongjoong and seonghwa's faces about how your plan was coming along smoothly.
maybe wooyoung was right about not being able to say no to the god pussy after all.
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bouncybongfairy · 8 months ago
Note
hello~ i love ur work and i hope ure doing well! i was wondering if u could write a sub overstimulated zuko with thigh riding and/or dry humping please? thank you 🩵🩵
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Good Boy
Prince Zuko x Fem Reader
Summary: Zuko sneaks you into his room in the palace. After teasing him until he can't take it anymore, you finally let him have what he wants.
Word Count: 1.0k+
Account Ref: @kaionyx
TW: Smut, Overstimulation, Sub Zuko.
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
You’d just gotten back from visiting family, four hours away from home. It was a long two weeks, not to mention the first you’d been away from Zuko since becoming an item. It was hard being away but felt so worth it as you got ready. The entire family was exhausted from the travel, which made it quite easy to sneak out. Making sure you were fully presentable before climbing out the bedroom window. It wasn’t cold outside but you were shivering with excitement. A grin on your face that couldn’t be wiped away. Zuko opened a side door in the palace, beaming when he saw you. Both giggling as he snuck you back to his room. 
It was nice to see a happier side of him, being more carefree. Hiding in corridors or behind large columns until finally making it to his room. It was huge, it always surprised you whenever going inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, kisses the back of our neck. Telling you how much he missed and thought about you all day. Making you blush and laugh as he ambushed your neck with affection. He let you go once you pulled away, walking over to the bed. Taking off your coat and getting comfortable on the bed. Zuko couldn’t get enough of you, burying his face in your neck. Holding you tightly against his body, taking your scent in. 
“Homework? Really?” he asked. 
“I like getting it done early, so I don’t have to worry about it later,” you said, trying to keep your focus on the scroll. 
“I’ll make it worth the worry,” he said, grabbing it from you and setting it aside. 
The temptation was just too much to ignore. Especially when you looked over at him, his hair down and eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were wide and he looked so desperate. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Watching his mouth fall open as you focused your sex against his. Rubbing yourself up and down his length, enjoying his facial expressions. He was rocking his hips, only adding to the pleasure. It was nice seeing him so reactive to your touch. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, digging into the skin. Leaning down and connecting your lips together. Not caring about the layer of clothes separating you. After being apart for so long, no point in wasting precious time. He arched his hips up, giving you more access. Taking the hint, you begin to increase your speed. Wanting to see how far you could push it. Both of you were letting out needy moans, you gripped the material of his shirt as you started to cum. Feeling you pulsate and tremble against his shaft sent him over the edge. Cumming into his boxers, soaking the area even further. After sitting together for a couple moments, catching your breath before switching positions. 
“Wanna get on your knees for me?” you whispered into his ear. 
He practically jumped off the bed, dropping to his knees in front of you. It gave you such a high watching him be so eager to please you. The future Fire Lord at your, kneeling in front of you. He’d already came once and you could see he was still feeling the rush of oxytocin. His face was beat red and pupils were wide as could be. Leaning forward, trying to push his face between your legs. You grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling tightly at the strands. He let out a low grunt and looked up at you smirking. Almost like he was relieved he didn’t have to ask to be dominated. 
“What do you want?” you ask, tilting his head to the side slightly.
“Anything you’ll give me,” he said, more like whining. 
You smirked and loosened your grip. Allowing him to finally get his head between your legs. Kissing your inner thighs before moving towards your lips. Flicking his tongue at an agonizing pace. You were touch starved, making things feel more sensitive than normal. He was letting drawn-out moans as he ate you. His cock throbbing against his stomach, hands resting on your knees, which were still trembling. Seeing how reactive your body was to his touch was making him feel dizzy. A combination of your wetness and his saliva was dripping down his chin; making a train down his chest. Completely consumed with pleasure; involuntarily humping the air every once in a while. Meanwhile, you were trying hard not to cum, wanting to ride out the wave of burning pleasure in your lower stomach. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore and came onto his stomach. Being so heavily engulfed in pleasure, he stops working his tongue. Instead, just pressing his lips against yours, moaning and panting against you. 
Still having a grip on his hair, you pull his head back. You jerked his head back pretty hard, his hands flew behind him to catch his weight. His own cum was dripping down his stomach, lips red and swollen. Using the grip you had on his hair, you stand the two of you up and push him onto the bed. He was weak and pliable, which made you giggle. You crawled on top of him, lining yourself up with him before sinking down. Both of you let filthy sounds slip from your lips. The look on his face was priceless, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. You were rocking your hips faster as he continued to squirm beneath you. His hips were bucking and jolting into you, hitting you right in the cervix. The pain felt more pleasurable than you’d admit. His nails were digging into your thighs. Working yourself on his cock solely for your pleasure; although he still seemed to enjoy himself. Moaning and muttering a mixture of curse words and Zuko’s name as you spill over the edge. Feeling him throb as your walls milked him. Letting your body fall forwards so the two of you were chest to chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and filled the two of you over. Letting his full body weight rest onto you and falling asleep.
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ozai-the-bonsai · 8 months ago
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Cry for the Moon
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader
Important Notes: I don’t think there is any use of she/her in this chapter but for future chapters, please don’t be surprised if other characters refer to the reader as she/her. And just like any other Fire Nation citizen, the reader has amber eyes. Other than that, I have given my best to avoid any further details about the reader but constructive criticism is always welcome!
Warnings: none
A/N: I am looking forward to your feedback on this very first chapter, personally the first ones are the hardest :) if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!
Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart
Credits to @lost-inthe-v0id for the main idea behind the story
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“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” you spoke with a low voice as your hands reached the necklace Zuko was holding. It was past midnight, and you two had to be sleeping but – as always – you decided to sneak out to lay under the moonlight, enjoying the peace the night brought to the palace. “Did you do it yourself?”
Zuko nodded in a proud manner. “I have always loved the way the moonlight reflected from your amber eyes,” his words made you turn your gaze away, feeling heat rushing to your face. “So I wanted to capture that beautiful light in this amber stone as well.”
Apparently, he had somehow managed to melt the amber, place some tiny silver pieces which looked like stars, and then form the amber in a crescent moon.
“Do you want me to help you put it on?”
You nodded, gathering your hair on your left shoulder. “I love it,” you spoke as you laid your left hand on the necklace, your eyes finding Zuko’s. “Thank you.”
Slowly, Zuko’s left hand found your right one, which was resting on the grass, and held it tight. “Once I become the Fire Lord and make you my Fire Lady, I will gift you the finest of jewels.”
A small smile formed on your lips, he was always so eager to show his love – you adored it. “That sounds lovely,” your left hand was still on the necklace as you spoke. “But I cannot imagine a better gift than this.” Zuko’s face lit up almost immediately. “Every time I look at it, I will remember how lucky we are to have each other.”
Zuko left an innocent kiss on your forehead, his lips were warm against your skin. “You are my favourite person in this world.”
Waves crashing against the ship woke you up from the dream – a memory from the life of a different person. Unconsciously, you moved your left hand to your neck, only to find emptiness there. There was no necklace. There hasn’t been a necklace for over three years.
Your mind was playing tricks on you now that you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw the Banished Prince.
Realising that sleep was not going to be easy to find, you wrapped yourself in your red gown and went outside, only to find the Princess there on the front deck. The cold wind of the ocean was causing you to use your breath of fire as you walked towards her.
Azula didn’t even look to see the owner of the footsteps, she could recognise you anytime. “Having trouble sleeping?” She asked, but it was rather a rhetorical question.
You nodded as you stood next to her, your hands rested on the railings. “Sometimes I feel like my dreams hate me,” you muttered. “What’s your excuse? Please don’t tell me you have been up all night, again.”
The Princess simply shrugged; her amber eyes were fixed on the waves. You heaved a sigh.
“Azula, darling, even you need to sleep once in a while.” You spoke with a tender voice, which caused Azula to look at you. “Do you really want your failure of a brother to see a slipping version of yourself just because you were too stubborn to admit that you were sleepy?”
“But I am not done calculating all the possible scenarios for tomorrow,” she spoke with a low voice that wanted to sound stubborn but in the end, she was just tired. “I must be ready for anything.”
Gently, you wrapped your left arm around Azula’s waist. Growing up together – and especially after Zuko was banished – you two had developed a special bond, perhaps such that Azula hadn’t shared with anyone before. Not even with her mother.
“Sleep deprived Azula won’t have the same capacity as a well-rested Azula – we have talked about this before.” You were slowly making both of you walk inside. “Your body needs to rest, your mind as well. With a crystal-clear mind, you will finish your calculations in no time tomorrow, I am sure of it.”
She would never admit it, but Azula loved the way you had this soft spot for her – it was too easy to read it from her eyes if one had known her long enough.
“Plus, sleep deprivation is bad for your skin – you will get dark rings under your eyes. Nobody wants that.”
Azula let out a chuckle as you stopped in front of her chambers. “You do know how to get to me.”
You let her waist go as you adjusted your red gown. “As long as you allow me to, Princess.” Your voice carried the hints of affection, sympathy, and loyalty. “I intend to be there to get to you, to assist you, and to kill for you, when you need me to.”
The edge of Azula’s lips curled upwards upon hearing you. “Allow yourself to rest,” she spoke as she walked into her chamber. “I can see that having to see Zuzu after all these years is starting to trouble you – I need you to bury the ghosts from the past.”
“We both know that the ghosts have all been buried long ago,” you said before heading back to your room. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here with you today.”
At least, that was what you had believed for the past three years – that all the flames from the past were snuffed out – until Azula visited you in your chambers a week ago.
[Flashback]
You giggled as you ran your fingers through Shuzi’s smooth, dark hair; his head was rested on your lap as he laid on your bed. It had been a peaceful morning with Shuzi surprising you with breakfast in bed – apparently, he had been in the kitchens, preparing your breakfast on his own, declining any kind of help offered by the servants.
“Do you have any plans for today?” Shuzi asked, his amber eyes wandering on your face.
“You know that I need to keep up with learning the languages,” you responded as your hand moved down to cup his face. “And I have this family dinner later today.”
Shuzi pouted in a playful way. “Won’t I get to see my girlfriend for the rest of the day?” he spoke imitating a baby’s voice, which caused you to giggle once again. “That’s too long!”
Before you could lean in and leave a small kiss on his nose, the doors to your chambers were opened to reveal Azula standing outside. She was already in her royal uniforms but without the armour – compared to the sleeping robes you still wore. Which made you realise that you hadn’t even combed your hair.
“Aw, adorable,” Azula spoke with a rather soft tone which sounded a bit too sarcastic and caused Shuzi you sit up straight. “Shuzi, give us a moment.”
Of course, just like everyone else in the Fire Nation, Shuzi wouldn’t dare make the Princess repeat herself. Hence, he quickly stood up, gathered his stuff, placed a quick kiss on your lips and left your chambers. As the servants closed the doors, you raised a questioning eyebrow at Azula.
“He is not a puppy, you know.”
Azula made herself comfortable on your couch while watching you walk towards the table to pour yourself some tea – it was still warm enough. “Well, he certainly allows himself to be used as one.” She responded, causing you to heave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, please – only a fool could miss the way you get him to do everything for you.” Azula crossed her right leg over the left one. “A little bit girlish coquetry, a little bit kissing and congratulations! You get the finest top knot pin with rubies and black diamonds.”
Holding the tea with your both hands, you turned back to face Azula, the eyebrow still arched. “Azula, there is no need to be jealous over something so small – you are the princess, you can literally get anything you want at any time.”
“Me? Jealous?” Azula let out her well-known, condescending laughter. “You have said it yourself – I am the Princess. There isn’t possibly a person in this world that I could ever be jealous of.”
Once again, you heaved a sigh – Azula knew very well that you could see through her almost all the time for you knew her way too well. However, at moments like this, she would show the Ozai in herself by pretending that the deep connection you shared didn’t even exist.
Sometimes, you tended to get mad at her for such behaviour, but you tried to remind yourself why Azula acted the way she did and how you could heal her – and it wasn’t by approaching her the same horrible way Ozai had been doing for all these years.
“Azula..?”
The Princess brushed you off and you decided not to push further, you would probably have more private time with her after the day was over. “Anyways, I have some exceptionally important news for you.”
You took a long sip from your tea as you leant the table behind you. “I am all ears.”
“Father has assigned me a crucial task after the recent outrageous failure in the North,” Azula began explaining and you simply nodded – not that you believed the failure to be outrageous but to signal her to continue.
The moment you had heard about the plans to siege the Northern Watertribe from your father, you had known it was not going to work out the way Ozai had fashioned it to. There was a reason why the North hadn’t even received a single blow in the last hundred years.
Azula slowly stood up. “I am to stop Zuzu and Uncle from further disgracing my family. Father wants me to capture them and bring back as prisoners of the Fire Nation.”
“Will you be sailing to Earth Kingdom, then?” You asked with a curious look in your amber eyes.
“We will be sailing to Earth Kingdom.” Azula corrected you with a smirk on her lips. “I want you to come with me on this mission.”
The teacup between your hands fell down onto the ground, breaking into million pieces.
[Flashback ends]
Sleep hadn’t been eager to pull you into its soothing embrace that night. Before going on to this mission with Azula, your only concern had been whether you would miss Shuzi or not – well, you two hadn’t really spent several days apart ever since you got together. You being a noble resident in the Royal Palace due to your father’s military work and Shuzi’s family being the Fire Lord’s foremost advisors, you two could easily spend any night together at your chambers.
However, instead of missing Shuzi’s arms wrapped around your body at night, you had found yourself missing the peaceful sleep which wasn’t haunted by the ghosts from your past. It disturbed you greatly that even the anticipation of getting to see Zuko after three long years was starting to disrupt everything you had built since he was gone.
It hadn’t been easy to rebuild – no, it had been the most painful thing you had ever done in your sixteen years of life and you certainly did not intend to let the Banished Prince burn your whole world to ashes.
Not this time.
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xxkissesforchanniexx · 7 months ago
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𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐏𝐭 𝟐
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒂 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆... 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
Pairing: Merman!Hyunjin x Human!fem!reader Genre: Angst kinda, Fluff🥰💖, Smut🔥❤️ Word Count: 6k Warnings: Blood, Hyunjin is missing, JYPEeeEe KING OF DA SEEEEAAAAA, challenges for king, memories of sexual scenes >.>, Hyunjin AND the kid have hallucinations, kidnapping..., RANDOM MERMAID CRAP I THOUGHT WAS COOL (heart of the sea, coral palace, etc), reunions, chan becomes king of the sea... i think that's it... sweet sex (not entirely soft...), possessive Hyunjin, JYP dies.... forgive me its for plot.
A/N: Based on this TikTok link to pt 1 AHHHHH THE LONG AWAITED PART 2 i hope you like it <3 changing the formatting of my work and page again soon >.>
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"I'm trusting you to take care of them, at least until I get back..."
Chan stared at his friend, "And if you don't?"
Hyunjin sucked in a breath and looked over his shoulder at Chan, "Let her... Make her... Forget me."
"Mommy what's 2 x 2?"
"Why are you worried about multiplication right now? Sugar you can't even add your hundreds place yet." You sighed.
"Uncle Ji said it's important to start early." You child pouted.
"Uncle Ji doesn't know much about math either." You chuckled.
"I second that." Chan laughed.
"Uncle Chan." She looked at the dark haired man, "What's 2 x 2?"
You gave Chan a look.
"I'll teach you another time we should work on addition first, y'know?" The man smiled.
You smiled and looked back at your work, you had been studying a certain type of guppy for just about a month now. A type of guppy that always lingered around Hyunjin's home...
You clenched for fists as you thought about that man, his beautiful sea green eyes, his gorgeous smile, the way he held you.
The doorbell made you look up. "Chan, can you get that?"
"I got it." Chan opened the door to Changbin.
"UNCLE BINNIE!" Your child ran to the short man's arms.
He them up and spun them. "Look at my favorite kid." He smiled, "You ready to go?"
Your child grabbed her bag and dragged it to the door, waving goodbye, "I'll see you in two days Mommy. Bye bye!"
You laughed lightly and waved. "Take came of her Changbin."
"I will." He called back.
You were positive she would be fine when you heard Minho's "I'll watch them both."
You kept to your work until Chan tapped your shoulder, "You're going to die of work. Go out and do something."
"Who are you my dad?" You laughed lightly. "Fine."
You picked up your computer but Chan took it from you. "Go relax... Go for a drive, go out to eat, get your nails done. SOMETHING!"
"FINE!" You huffed, muttering a you put on your shoes and grabbed your car keys.
You drove around town for a bit, looking out at the sea, you parked by the beach and walked to the shore, taking off your shoes and sitting there on the sand.
You watched as the water lapped around your bare feet, remembering sitting here with Hyunjin, who seemed shocked that crabs could be so mean when he didn't appear like a merman. You smiled and gripped the sand between your fingers before reaching up and playing with your sun charm.
You lie back on the sand as you remembered the day you and Hyunjin sat on the beach at night, the moon was full and he was talking about his parents.
"And apparently, my dad was the most romantic guy ever. But I can't be so sure about that now."
You giggled. "Do you think I'll meet your parents?"
He looked at you. "Maybe..."
"Maybe?" You tilted your head at him.
"I'd have to make you my mate first." He smirked.
"You'd bite me?" You laughed. "Like a werewolf?"
He made a face and grabbed your face. "I'd present you to the Mother of the Sea and beg for her blessing. I'd give you all my air..." he looked into your eyes and you felt your face get hot. "And then..." He leaned in close so his lips brushed against your jaw. "I'd give you my seed."
You shoved his face and hid yours in embarrassment as he cackled.
"Is it so bad to you???!" He laughed.
"No just..." You looked at him. "You've already done 1 of those things."
He smirked. "Then let me do it again.." he took your hand into his and kissed your wrist then your arm before moving to your neck.
You blushed deeply as your remember how he'd practically dragged you under the water and done... jiendsjiok Y/n. Focus..."Hyune... Where are you?"
Uncle Changbin and Uncle Minho had taken me around all day, we went to the mall, to the park, then we went to go eat, when we finally got to Minho's place and I went to bed I smiled slightly to myself. Mommy never let me go out often.
It was late, I was staring up at the ceiling, I wonder what Daddy's doing right now... the thought of my father made me smile, I still remembered his pretty face. Mommy used to smile more then. It's been two years if I've done my math right.
I hugged my narwal plushie that he bought me the last time we went to the aquarium together. I closed my eyes and whispered softly, "Mother of Sea... bring my daddy back." And I fell asleep.
Mommy says I got my hyper awareness from Daddy. The soft sound of steps woke me up and I froze. The steps weren't near the door or in the hall. They were in the room.
My eyes focused into the darkness and I glanced around without rolling over. I tried to look like I was sleeping as the steps grew closer, was it a monster? was it the boogey man my friends at school talked about...
"Jazz hands and flash." Daddy's voice came to my mind, I was 4 then and he told me to be careful when I flared my hands out because my claws would appear...
The steps grew closer and I swallowed, should I scream for Uncle Changbin...
I should scream..
The steps were beside my bed now.
The shadow stretched over my bed, moonlight from the window pouring in.
I saw the hand reaching for me.
One...
"Deep breaths.." I sucked in a slow, steady breath.
Two...
"Jazz hands..."
Three...
"FLASH!"
I flared my hands out and my claws connected with a hard substance that made me cry out in pain and pull my hands back. The person grabbed me suddenly and I shrieked.
The door burst open and Uncle Changbin was lunging claws out. Another person flew and slammed him hard into the wall just as Uncle Minho ran for me.
My gaze locked on the corner of the room. There was a woman who looked like my mommy dressed differently, like the olden days.. I was pulled out of my window as my uncles shouted.
Something pricked my arm and then the world went dark.
It was so hot... so hot he couldn't move. The heat crushing him place almost.. He looked up as he heard the door to the chamber open.
"Time to eat." the maid said as she set the food in front of Hyunjin.
He stared at it for a long time and as he reached for it he heard a voice.
It's the food...
And he pulled back, smacking the food away with his tail and shouting. "LET ME GO!"
The maid looked at him for a moment, before she shook her head and walked away.
I struggled for a moment before I heard the voice.. her voice... "Hyunjin... it's almost time."
You stood there in shock. Chan was very quiet. Changbin winced as Jeongin dabbed at the wounds on his neck.
"It was the royal guard." Minho said softly.
You looked at the floor, squeezing your necklace...
"Why would they take her.." Chan finally spoke.
Yongbok twirled his thumbs. "How did they even know she existed?!"
Seungmin sighed. "If it's the royal guard it had to have been a roayl decree."
"HOW WOULD KING JINYOUNG HAVE EVEN KNOWN ABOUT HER THOUGH?!" Jisung shouted. "THEY COULD KILL HER!"
The boys went quiet and Chan said softly. "He's been king for a long time."
The others looked at him.
"Chan what are you thinking.." Seungmin whispered.
Chan sat up straight. "I guess I owe you all an explanation."
If there was ever a merboy King Jinyoung put effort into. That boy would be Chan. That boy who was made to be a model king, his parents were impossibly proud of him for being so close to the king. It was when he was thirteen the king really took him in. Fight like this. Kill humans like that. Humans are evil because of this.
It was when Chan met his friends things became a little different, he was freer, the group following him around as it grew, and Hyunjin... Hyunjin who told Chan first where he got his necklace... who told Chan first he felt drawn to you.. who told Chan first that the child was his.. who trusted his love and daughter to Chan.
And Chan gradually slipped away from the king of the sea. But everyone knew.. from the Arctic to the southern most sea, and all the way back again they all knew the next king of the sea was going to be Chan.
And Chan neglected his duty.
"If we're going to get her," Jisung stared at you. "You need to blend into the sea."
You pursed your lips. "Huh-"
Seungmin hummed and circled you. "An octopus or a sea horse..."
"I think she'd make a good shark woman personally." Minho said.
"I agree." Jeongin seconded.
You made a face. "Why can't I be a pretty mermaid like you guys?"
"Because," Yongbok huffed, "Not all of us look the same." He cleared his throat and glanced at Changbin, "First girlfriend had tentacles."
Changbin shouted. "SHE WAS REALLY PRETTY THOUGH!"
They all shrugged.
"Don't listen to them." Chan sighed. "I have something ready already."
They all looked at Chan.
"Watch him make her some ugly black thing-"
"Betta cross." Chan said, looking you over, "Y/N would look good as a Betta fish with a mix of mandarin... Don't you all agree?"
The boys tilted their heads at you.
"Yes." Minho said.
"Definitely." Changbin smiled.
"She'd look gorgegous." Jisung jumped.
"Stunning." Felix nodded.
Seungmin shrugged.
"I think she'd look really pretty." Jeongin agreed.
"What on earth-" You started but the men practically dragged you to your car and put you in the drivers seat, before crowding in your van.
"Drive." Chan said. "We're going to the beach."
for yall who are wondering this is a betta fish (siamese fighting fish).
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Chan stared at the shore. "This brings back memories..." He exhaled slowly.
"It's now or never." Jeongin huffed, taking off his expensive human trinkets and leaving them in your car.
You stared at the sea. "If they hurt my baby. I'll dump plastic."
The boys all blinked at you in shock.
"Gimme the pill." You huffed.
Chan cleared his throat and put the pill in your hand.
The boys jumped into the water one by one and you watched as they swam away, clothes washing up to the shore.
You looked at Chan who tilted his head to the water, "After you."
You sucked in a breath and jumped into the water, shoving the pill into your mouth and gasping, watching the bubbles float to the surface before you tried to move you legs. You looked down and shrieked.
Jisung and Seungmin snickered at your reaction.
Yongbok swam around happily. "YOU'RE SO PRETTY!"
You looked at them. Chan dove into the water and you turned away as his legs became one and when you looked back, there was a dark blue tail.
He smiled. "The look suits you..."
You looked down at the big tail, sparkling scales and pretty frills waving and wafting in the current. Hyunjin would've thought it was so gorgeous..
You exhaled. "Lets go."
You followed the boys deep into the water, the coral grew larger, then you saw another merman swim by. Your eyes widened at the sight of a more merpeople, the boys weren't lying, they were all built differently. Some with octopus arms and others with shark teeth.
You pursed your lips as a merman with a striped tail in gold, brown, and black like a lionfish..
Jeongin nudged you. "He's venomous.."
You blinked a few times and nodded. "Noted."
You felt like the merpeople you passed were staring at you and suddenly you forgot how to work your tail. Could they tell you were human..?
Jisung turned and grabbed you, dragging you after the rest of the group. "You're pretty, like.. top tier mermaid princess kind of pretty.." He smiled. "It's natural for them to stare. They'd think the mother of the sea blessed you with her beauty."
You tried to assure yourself that they couldn't tell you were human.
Chan swam towards a huge rock structure and smiled at you. "The person in here is trustworthy." He motioned for you to enter.
You saw a very pretty mermaid with big black eyes her tail was gold and yellow with black spots and there was spines all over it.
"Chan... who is this pretty girl and why is this the first time I'm meeting her?" She circled you a few times and her tail swished happily. "Is she a model for me?"
"Rin-" Chan started but the mermaid lifted your arms and started using a length of something to measure you.
"Rin she's-" Seungmin tried.
"I have just the thing for you darling!" She started running off to get something but Chan grabbed her arm and dragged her back.
"She's human!" He whispered shouted.
Rin's eyes widened. "This is Hyunjin's.."
The boys nodded.
She smiled at you, much calmer than before. "I'm Rin, I'm glad to finally meet you."
"Rin." Yongbok said, "Did the royal guard bring a little human girl through?"
"They did actually." She sighed. "While you were gone King Jinyoung said he'd found the Heart of the Sea."
Chan's eyes widened. "What?"
"It's encased in something, they say the girl is the key to opening it." She looked at you. "That girl is your daughter isn't she?"
You nodded and took a few breaths trying to collect yourself.
Changbin took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Can you keep her h-"
"No!" You snapped, pulling away from Changbin. "I'm not staying when some 500 year old man kidnapped my daughter! No! I'm going with you!"
Chan pursed his lips. "Please... Y/N-"
"I'm going and you can't stop me." You touched your face as something behind your ears flared.
Minho hummed. "She's still pretty while she's angry."
"Fine." Chan sighed. "Hands up."
You put your hands up and he flared his hands before baring his nails at you. You jumped back on instinct as his claws appeared.
"Do it." He glared at you. "If you can't, you can't come with us."
You shrank under his condescending gaze.
"Well?" Chan raised a brow at you.
Rin swam between you two. "You're scaring her Chan."
"Stay." He told you.
"Chan that isn't fair to her-" Rin started.
"Yea-" Jeongin started.
The appendages behind Chan's ears flared and he shouted. "She stays. That's final."
The boys and Rin all went quiet.
"Let's go." Chan huffed, swimming out.
The boys looked at you and swam after him, Yongbok smiled at you. "We'll get her back.."
Hyunjin tugged at the chains. He pulled and pulled until his wrists went raw.
"Food time." the maid entered and the heat from the bubbling hydrothermal vents calmed somewhat.
Hyunjin looked at her. "What's happening up there... It's loud."
"The king has found the key to the Heart of the Sea. The sacrifice is in two days time." She said as she set the food down. "I suggest you stop struggling, by the time you get out that half human brat will be dead."
Hyunjin's eyes widened. "If you scum touch her-" Hyunjin tuggd at his chains with all his might and he felt them shift in the sand.
"What will you do?" a voice said behind the maid.
She quickly bowed and excused herself.
Jinyoung stared down at Hyunjin. "I'm going to restore the Merman empire. And when I do, merpeople like you will stop existing."
Hyunjin's eyes narrowed. "You're a monster."
"A monster who cares for his people. And if I have to kill a few humans to reach my goal... So be it."
Hyunjin tore from his chains and vaulted for Jinyoung.
The older merman was stronger than he looked, throwing Hyunjin hard against the rock of the dungeon.
Hyunjin's vision blurred as he slumped to the floor. He saw a luminescent something before he felt the sting and his vision went dark.
Jinyoung stared at the almost diamond casing of the heart of the sea. He looked at the child sleeping in the bubble, it resembled Hyunjin so much.
He held the dagger Chan and his friends had recovered. This was for his people..
"Your highness." a servant entered and bowed, "Chan is here."
"Send him in." Jinyoung covered the child with the seaweed curtains and turned as Chan entered the room.
"My king." Chan bowed.
"Chan, please."
Chan looked up and locked eyes with him. "It's been almost two years since Hyunjin disappeared..."
"A tragedy really." Jinyoung swam to the wall of his study and traced the shelf.
"He had a lover." Chan said softly. "A lover I promised to protect.. and he had a child a child I'd give my life for."
Jinyoung turned eyes wide, the appendages behind his ears flaring. "That half human bastard child!"
"She is not a bastard child!" Chan's eyes narrowed. "In 2 days the moon will be full and at its strongest, the tides low, the fish will move for the coast. The Coral Palace will be accessible. If we have the Heart of the Sea."
"So what?" Jinyoung glared at Chan... This boy can't read through me.
"The Mother of the Sea blesses one. One person to harness the Heart of the Sea." Chan looked at the seaweed curtain, "And Hyunjin's daughter is missing."
"What' the point of all this? You want me to search for a mista-"
"No." Chan moved so fast, Jinyoung barely saw him before Chan's claws were at his throat. "I challenge you."
"Chan!" Minho and Yongbok came around the corner just in time to see it. Their eyes went wide.
"Park Jinyoung. I, Bang Christopher Chan, challenge you to be King of the Sea." Chan said coldly.
Jinyoung stared at him for a long moment. "I accept.."
You sat with Rin talking about the quality of her clothes.
"But really..." she sighed looking at you. "You shouldn't mind it."
"Don't mind what?" You raised a brow.
"How Chan talks to you..."
You looked at her. "Of course I shou-"
"Chan is going to be the next king one day. Simply by being in contact with you, he's risking his future." She said quietly. "By hiding the secret about your daughter for so long... He's risking his life."
Your eyes widened slightly. "So.."
"He's mean sometimes but it's because he cares.." she smiled, "So don't let that get to you."
You nodded, looking at your hands. "I'm just worried about C/n.. and Hyunjin.."
Rin smiled and took your hand in hers. "It'll be okay..."
She spoke too soon.
"RIN!" Minho entered the coral building with such speed he was dragging bubbled behind him, eyes wide and frantic with fear. "Chan challenged the king!"
He opened his eyes again... he felt so tired.. His sea green eyes looked over the hydrothermal vents and he tugged at his chains. He'd broken free before.. why couldn't he now?
He felt something.. something.
Turn. Hyunjin turn your damn head. He turned his head with so much effort and he saw it. The jellyfish that had stung him. He sucked in a breath and exhaled, how the hell did he let this happen.
"SHIT!" He shouted as he realized what would happen. He pulled at his chains. Y/N, C/N, Chan, Changbin, Yongbok, Jeongin EVERYONE!
Hyunjin pulled at the chains one last time before giving up.
He sank to the floor and grit his teeth as he remembered the last time he'd seen you.
"You'll come back right?" You looked up at him with the saddest look in your eyes.
"Of course I'll come back.. when haven't I?"
And how you'd kissed him as if it was the last time you ever would.
Hyunjin screamed and pulled at the chains again, he looked up at a little ball of light in the distance and somehow he saw you... No.. not you.. but you.. dressed in something so much like the old days hundreds of years ago.
"The Heart of the Sea is here... it's been waiting on you."
By the time you got to the arena area Chan was in the sand, the man he was fighting, who you assumed was Jinyoung, was beating the crap out of him. The other people watched with sad expressions as Chan got punched again..
You swam to the closest place you could to see. "CHAN!"
Minho tried to move over the coral railing as King Jinyoung's claws emerged, but Changbin held him back.
"He's going to kill him!" You shouted.
Jisung grabbed you around your waist and held you back. "That's how the challenge works... the one who lives is king..."
You stared with wide scared eyes as blood swirled into the water. "Chan.."
You tried to pull away from Jisung as Jinyoung released Chan and stood straight. Chan lie there in the sand, blood curling up into the water. Was he dead... Chan... dead?
Something in you snapped and you tore from Jisung's arms with alarming force.
This man. This King of the Sea. He'd kidnapped your daughter. He'd destroyed your peace. He'd forced Hyunjin to go back to the ocean. He'd hurt Chan.
You tore through the water, seeing red, you felt numb. There was nothing but this Jinyoung. This monster.
You raised your hands on instinct and felt your nails shifting on your skin before you really saw red. Your barbed claws buried themselves in Jinyoung's chest just as the royal guards swam for you, just as Chan sprung back up, just as the crowd screamed and a messenger shouted over the arena... "THE SEA DEVIL IS FREE!"
Hyunjin woke up in a bed. It wasn't soft by any means but he wasn't complaining, a familiar warmth was pressed to his chest and he smiled as he held her tighter pressing his nose against he head, the familiar scent filled his nostrils.
He opened his an eye and smiled at you. He barely noticed the sheets looked different.. how strange they felt, he heard something and tensed.
"What is it?" You looked up at him.
"Nothing.." He lied. "Go back to sleep." He got up from the bed, and stepped on to wood flooring. His brows furrowed as he realized... this floor wasn't the one in your house.
He went to the door and felt something looming over it as he opened the door and walked into the hall, the chairs in different rooms looked old... and he saw it... a baby crib... His eyes widened, that wasn't..
The sound of the front door opening made him turn with such speed he could have cracked his neck.
"The oceanic beast is here!" Someone shouted.
Hyunjin turned to run back to your bedroom but someone grabbed him and he shouted, "Y/N!"
He heard you scream as you were dragged from your bedroom.
Hyunjin saw red and before he could stop himself he spun from the people holding him and slashed their throats, Lunging for the men holding you. Heavy metal chains fell around him and he was pulled back baring his claws.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face.
And Hyunjin stopped struggling.
He let the people drag him away...
From where he was chained in the village square he'd seen you multiple times, but you were always with someone, they always kept you away... and one night he heard something and looked up.
The moon was full and he saw his people storming the village..
You came running to him, and as you tried to unshackle his chains he stared with wide eyes as a long dagger, tore through you. "Y/N!"
Your grip on his chains slackened and Hyunjin tore away from where he was held about to lunge for the person but he froze. It was a boy... a merboy, no older than 16.
"Human devils and Sea devils are the banes of this world. You should die!" The boy shouted.
And as he opened his mouth to shout a human sword ran him through.
"You can't let the past repeat itself..."
He looked up at you. Or what looked like you.
"You have to go now..."
"But-"
"Hyunjin..." You leaned to him and kissed him gently. "Give me your air."
Hyunjin screamed and tore his chains from the ground, swimming to the stalactite edge of his enclosure and pounding on it before he slammed into it and the rock crumpled. He swam up frantically towards light, and surfaced in the remnants of the Coral Palace.
He stared around for a long time. Then his ear appendages twitched and he turned in the direction of the New Palace.
Jinyoung held his chest and stumbled back. His eyes widening at the sight of you. "HUMAN!"
The crowd gasped and Chan stood in front of you, defensively, "She's trustworthy-"
"NO HUMAN IS TRUSTWORTHY! ARREST HER!"
"Your highness, the moon-" A frantic servant tried to say but Jinyoung pushed him aside and swam for the palace.
Guards circled you and Chan as the others tried to get to you and the crowd began to panic.
"UP!" Chan grabbed you and slammed his tail hard, sending you shooting upwards before he released you and began to swim as fast as he could.
You followed before you looked back. "I can't.."
Chan looked at you. "Y/n! We need to go!"
"Chan..." You breathed before turning back to the palace. "She's all I have."
Before he could stop you, you swam around the guards and followed Jinyoung into the palace. You followed the merman as he swerved through the palace and then you finally caught up to him as he stopped in front of a seaweed curtain.
"JINYOUNG!"
He pulled out a bubbled and turned to you. Inside the bubble was.. your daughter..
The artifact Hyunjin had stolen from the museum in his other hand. "With this dagger... Mother of the Sea... Bless the Heart! And devour Man."
You screamed as he raised the dagger. "NO!" You swam for him but something was faster, grabbing Jinyoung and slashing his face. He dropped the bubble and you dove for it. Looking up, you stared in shock at the familiar figure. "Hyunjin.."
"You want the heart..." he said lowly, raking his claw over his palm, blood coiled from the wound into the water as Hyunjin grabbed a crystal locked object.
You stared at it. Jin-young sprang up to attack Hyunjin but something slowed him...
Hyunjin gripped the crystal and shouted. "COME GET IT!"
And it shattered.
Jin-young stared at him. "This can't be... You're not- You can't- You... You love that HUMAN! You're not one of us! TRAITOR! LIAR! DEVIL!"
Hyunjin tossed the crystal to the ground before staring a beautiful blue pearl.
"This... is for 500 years ago." Hyunjin grabbed the dagger from the floor and stabbed the pearl.
Jin-young screamed and lunged for him but Chan swam past you and grabbed the shrieking king. "Your dynasty is over."
Hyunjin's brows furrowed before he swam and covered your eyes. And yet you couldn't mistake the sound of Jin-young's neck breaking.
It took several hours to get everything handled with your daughter as she couldn't believe Hyunjin was back. Chan was going to recover and the planning of a formal coronation was under way. It was early the next morning, when you finally got home, settling your daughter into bed. But now you had questions.
"Where were you.." you whispered as you returned your home.
Hyunjin looked at you. "Jinyoung ordered me to return and kept me when I tried to leave. He... he imprisoned me in the Coral Palace and I saw... you..."
You looked into his eyes. "You were gone. I thought you-"
Hyunjin remembered what he begged Chan to do and bit his plump lip.
"I thought you left us." You whispered.
Hyunjin fell from the couch on his knees in front of you. "No... Jagiya no..." he breathed. "I would never."
You felt the tears welling in your eyes as he took your hands in his. "I'm sorry... you've been struggling and I just-"
"No. Don't apologize. I.. I should've figured out something-"
"You were in a dungeon, I was just here and-" the tears started streaming down your face before you could stop them. "C/n would ask where you were and I wouldn't know what to say.."
Hyunjin took your face in his hands and shushed you, wiping your tears. "You did amazing..." He whispered. "You are amazing.."
You looked into his pretty green eyes as you tried to control your tears. "I missed you.."
He smiled gently and leaned to press his forehead against yours. "I'm here... I'm finally back... And I'm never going to go again.."
You kissed him softly. He held you against him, pushing his tongue past your lips and sighing as he tasted you for the first time in so long. "Let me..." He breathed.
"What..." You exhaled.
"Make you mine. I want you to meet my parents." He muttered. "But first-"
You didn't let him finish his sentence before you pounced on him.
Your lips were molded to his in a desperate heated kiss as you ran your fingers through his long hair. He muttered against your lips "I love you so much..." as he lifted you, hands firmly on your butt with your legs wrapped around his waist.
He carried you to your bedroom, lip never leaving yours as he set you down on the bed, leaning into you, pulling your shirt over your head as you worked at his pants. He smiled against your lips after he pulled the shirt off you, "Shit, I missed this.."
You gasped as his lips moved to your throat and he bit gently at the skin before kissing and licking at your chest as you mewled softly.
He lifted you and unclipped your bra before taking your of your nipples into his mouth. He groaned as you pulled off his pants just enough to palm at his cock through his boxers. He moved lower kissing at your stomach before kneeling as he pulled your pants and panties off, looking up at you past your breasts. His eyes met yours, pupils blown wide with desire.
His green eyes trailed to your pussy before he leaned in and kissed your clit gently before giving it gentle licks.
You whined and grabbed at his hair.
"Shh.." He hummed, "I've got you pretty thing." He took one of your hands in his and your fingers intertwined as he began licking and sucking at your clit.
You tugged at his hair and gasped, "Hyunjin-"
He groaned into your womanhood, the vibrations sending sparks down your spine before he pushed a long finger into you. You moaned at the stretch and Hyunjin hummed.
"You missed me filling your pretty pussy?" he whispered as he moved his finger in and out green eyes admiring the way your slick coated the digit, before he pushed in another.
You gasped as he curled his fingers to rub your g-spot. He fingered you faster, grinding his palm against your clit, you moaned louder as you felt the familiar knot tightening in you gut. Hyunjin moved up and kissed you moaning as you pulled his hair.
Hyunjin released your hand and took his hand to your clit, rubbing in figure 8 motions as you moaned.
"Cum for me, baby.." He whispered.
And the knot inside you snapped, you jerked as your vision went white and Hyunjin continued fingering you stretching your orgasm thin.
He pulled away and drew his fingers out slowly, admiring your slick as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at your taste. He pulled his shirt and pants off, dragging the boxers as well before grabbing your legs and dragging you to the edge of the bed.
He looked down in you eyes as he took his shaft into his hand, rubbing the tip against you slit and slapping it against your clit. You whimpered and he smiled as he pushed into you before leaning over you.
You both moaned as he sank into your tight heat.
"I love you so much..." he breathed, kissing you as he pulled out. He pushed in slowly and the kiss swallowed your moans as he repeated the motion, pushing into you over and over. He pulled away to look into your eyes before he stood to his full height and grabbed your hips.
You gasped as he began fucking into you roughly, desperately, even, as if you might disappear, as if he were dreaming. You moaned as his cock reached deep inside you, brushing your cervix.
"I missed you so much... I thought you'd forgotten me... moved on.. given yourself to someone else." He groaned and and wrapped your legs around his waist, moving you up on the bed and slowing his thrusts. "This is mine.." He kissed your hand,"mine." he kissed your stomach, "mine..." he the valley between your breasts, "mine.." he kissed your lips, "mine. You are mine.." He slammed into you so hard it knocked the air out of your lungs and the bed creaked.
"Hyunjn-" You reached to hold onto him and he took your hand again, kissing your palm as he started pounding into you again, his eyes glazed over and distant but at the same time so focused on you and only you.
You the human he learned to trust. You the girl he used to think about all the time. You the girl who seemed to be everywhere he was. You the only woman he would ever love. You his human.. the mother of his child.. his savior.. you.. the Heart of the Sea.
"I'm not leaving you again... never.." he breathed as he moved faster. "'M going to stay for our little family.. for you." He leaned down and kissed you, muffling your cries as he picked up the pace. "I'm going to cum..."
You gasped and whined as you felt the knot building in you again. "Me too.."
He licked two fingers and brought them to your clit. "Come on jagiya, you can give me one more baby..." He rubbed furiously. "Please he whined and you came again, pussy clenching tightly on Hyunjin.
He moaned and grit his teeth as he came as well. His hips bucked to yours as he released load after load into you before falling over you, holding himself up with his forearms.
You pulled him down to you, his head resting on your bare chest, sweat slicked bodies pressed together and you whispered, running your hand through his damp hair, "I love you, Hyune... Welcome home.."
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scary-grace · 6 months ago
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Expiation - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Even after slaying the High Kingdom's greatest enemy and sparing its people from a terrible fate, Shigaraki Tomura's past crimes make him an outcast in the castle. Still, someone has to attend to him, and that someone is you -- and unlike the maids who came before you, you're not afraid to ask a question. (cross-posted to Ao3)
This is a birthday gift for @sophsiaaa based on a suggestion of a fantasy AU Shigaraki x reader. Happy birthday (although it's definitely a bit late)!
Chapters: 1 2 3 4
Chapter 1
You hear the rumors long before you see him, but the story of his arrival is told to you so many times that it’s etched into your head. It was a beautiful spring day, the fields surrounding the castle bright with wildflowers, the air humming with butterflies and bees – the kind of day on which nothing bad is allowed to happen. And then the world went still. The sun seemed to dim. The air fell silent, empty of insects and birds, and even the flowers cringed away as he led his horse past, walking so slowly that it seemed he knew his presence poisoned the world, and reveled in it. The dark knight, the one they call the White Death. Shigaraki Tomura.
The rumors are terrible, and most of them are true, but no one finds the High Kingdom unless they were meant to be here. You remember the day you stumbled out of the Forest Perilous, last of a party of dozens who had all set out together, the only one to reach the castle. The castle chose you, the same as it chose everyone born outside the walls who now resides within. The same is true of Shigaraki Tomura – Sir Tomura, or Lord Tomura, anything but the dread title he’s earned on the battlefield. There is some purpose to his presence here, although neither you nor anyone else can imagine what it is.
Most knights come to the High Kingdom with squires and servants, hauling supplies and gifts and finery to please the king. The White Death comes alone, and bears no gift – no gift other than the one he’s rumored to have tossed at King Izuku’s feet. That rumor is terrible, too. But it it’s true, it means that Shigaraki Tomura crossed a line no one else had dared to touch – in taking on the King’s fated enemy, the man prophesied to destroy the High Kingdom, and slaying him himself. Tearing down his armies himself. Singlehandedly wrecking a prophecy that has hung over the Kingdom’s head since it was first spoken, a prophecy of death and destruction that would bring a mighty kingdom to its knees.
And you suppose it did. After all, the prophecy, never said it would be your kingdom that fell.
King Izuku offers Shigaraki Tomura a seat on his council, over the objections of the rest of the council. Shigaraki Tomura accepts. And then the question turns to where he should be house, and what level of opulence is appropriate for his room, and because the gods hate you or because you’re just unlucky, you’re assigned from all the servants to help him decorate it. To create a dwelling space fit for a hero, meant to house someone who cannot be called anything but a villain.
You knock hesitantly at the door, struggling to balance the heavy wooden chest you’re carrying at the same time. When that fails to produce a response, you call out, your voice thin as it echoes through the deserted wing of the palace. “Lord Tomura?”
The door unlocks with a sharp click, then swings open, and you suck in a breath. You heard he had magic – most in the High Kingdom do, you included – but it’s considered crass to flaunt it for things that could otherwise be done by hand. You step through the door into a large, empty room. The only features in it are a window without a single pane of glass, an armoire with doors gaping open, and a canopy bed bare of both canopy and sheets. The infamous white armor is piled in the corner of the room, along with the white sword his enemies call Decay. The White Death himself sits on the edge of the bed.
He doesn’t look away from the spot on the wall where he’s fixed his eyes. “What do you want?”
“My Lord.” You bow, or curtsy, or do some awkward mix of both at once. It doesn’t matter. He’s not looking at you. “I was sent to help you put your room in order.”
“This is fine.” Shigaraki Tomura’s voice is flat and icy, devoid of anything but apathy. “The window is a nice touch.”
You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. You would be, if you were a knight and not a maid. “The window will be fixed, my Lord. In the meantime, I was sent to arrange the rest of your room. I’ve brought many things for you to choose from.”
“Many things.” He looks up at last, and you catch your breath at the sight of his crimson eyes. It’s all too easy to imagine his enemies freezing in terror, those eyes the last thing they saw before the darkness closed in. “That chest is too small for many things.”
“It’s larger on the inside,” you say. He raises an eyebrow – or he would, if he had them. “Do I have your leave to show you?”
“If it’s the case that you won’t leave me be until you do.” The White Death looks away, and you come a few steps closer. A few steps, and then a few more, until you can set the chest down within his eyeline and kneel down to open it. “What is that?”
“No one could tell me what you preferred, so I brought some of everything.” You were hoping to avoid being berated. You’re starting to think that’s unlikely. “There are sheets for the bed – and choices for the canopy, also. These are for the walls – most knights have tapestries made of your great deeds, but you’ve only just arrived. They won’t be ready for a little while.”
“Great deeds,” Shigaraki – Sir Tomura – sneers. Your ears burn. “Yes, I’m sure the weavers are lining up to chronicle mine.”
“If you say so, my Lord.” You lift out a set of curtains – curtains, for a broken window. Whoever left this for you to deal with, you hope they catch the plague. “Er, the window –”
“I didn’t say so,” Sir Tomura interrupts. You look up at him. “I have done no great deeds. It is no honor to be on your knees at my feet.”
“Pardon me, my Lord. I never said it was.”
You shouldn’t have spoken. You bow your head hastily, but not before you see a flash of interest in the White Death’s eyes. “A punishment, then. Tell me, who did you displease?”
“Nor did I say it was a punishment.” You’ve already gotten yourself in trouble. You may as well explain. “It is my duty to serve the nobles of the High Kingdom. You are one of them. And you’ve done the kingdom a great service.”
“I didn’t do it for you. Or for your wretched kingdom.” Sir Tomura is looking at you, still. You can feel the heat of his gaze on your shoulders, the exposed curve of your neck. “I might have destroyed your kingdom just as easily.”
You know that. It’s why everyone fears him, why a man with a lean, slender build casts such a long shadow. “Then why did you choose his?”
“You both wronged me. He wronged me worse.” Sir Tomura goes silent for a moment, and you dare a glance up at him. His face is still, the sneer long-gone. “And because you wronged me, too, you must suffer my presence. In honor of the great deed I have done.”
Now he sounds bitter, mocking – but not of you. He’s looking at you again. “And what terrible deed have you done, that you do not fear to raise your eyes to me?”
“Is that a requirement for meeting your eyes, my Lord?” It strikes you as an odd thing to say, when any other knight would remark on your temerity at gazing upon any noble’s face. “I did not come here to pass judgment on your deeds. I came to make your room a fitting place for a person to live.”
“Indeed,” Sir Tomura says. “But unlike the five maids who preceded you, you have not fled from the sight of me. Why?”
You would answer him if you knew, but you don’t. The rumors of him terrified you, the same as everyone else. You were frightened as you knocked at the door, frightened when you stepped into the room, and even though he’s weaponless, you have no doubt that he knows dozens of spells that will kill you where you stand. There is no doubt that the man in front of you is the White Death, the terror of battlefields across the known world, the ruination of a kingdom most thought would stand forever and the slayer of a king most thought could not be killed and the destruction of a prophecy that went unchallenged for a hundred years. You should be terrified, just as you were before, and you’re certainly wary. But you aren’t frightened any longer.
The White Death is waiting for an answer. “If I had an answer, I would give it, my Lord,” you say. You look away and begin to unpack from the chest. “Does my Lord have a preference as to colors?”
“No.” Sir Tomura’s voice carries an odd rasp, whether he’s scornful or not. “Do what you want.”
So he’ll allow you to complete your task. You wonder if the five maids who apparently preceded you tried to hold a conversation, or if they simply ran away the instant he opened the door. Some part of you wants to decorate his room in bright colors, something cheerful, but you don’t have the sense that he’ll appreciate it. You’d be better off giving him something to look at, since he spends so long staring off into space. You choose fabrics in muted colors, woven with small illusions here and there, patterns that move and change in response to the human eye. It’s likely that Sir Tomura will spend a lot of time here. He doesn’t seem to like people very much. His room should at least be a pleasant place to be.
When you’ve covered key portions of the walls, leaving space for the inevitable tapestries, you move on to laying out rugs. The stone floors in the castle are cool in the summer, cold in the winter, and Sir Tomura’s feet are bare, his boots kicked into the same pile as his sword and armor. You don’t have as many choices with the rugs. They are nothing but bright colors, woven together from scraps of fabric, and you lay them out hastily, hoping he continues to prefer staring at walls to staring at floors. Then you turn your attention to the armor. It needs to be stored properly, and there isn’t a stand in the room.
You turn to face Sir Tomura and find that he’s already watching you. “If you give me leave, my Lord, I’ll retrieve a stand for your armor.”
“It can stay where it is.”
Most knights pride themselves on their armor. Most pride themselves too much. “Won’t it rust?”
“Until it crumbles away. I don’t care.”
You don’t understand. “Sir –”
“It’s no use to me any longer.” Sir Tomura rises from the bed for the first time and crosses the room, moving with catlike grace. He lifts the breastplate from the pile one-handed and holds it out for you to inspect. You can’t miss the problem – it’s been cleaved almost in two by a single strike, torn apart as only cursed steel can do. “It can’t be fixed.”
“The best smiths in the world work here,” you venture. Sir Tomura scoffs. “They reforged One For All, and that sword was broken into nine pieces.”
“Yes, we’ve all heard the story. Good King Izuku gathered the nine pieces of One For All and proved he was the rightful king.” The disdain in the White Death’s voice is withering. “The rightful king, but not a good one. The king before him was worthless, and the queen before him, too – they let their greatest enemy grow and prosper, throughout their entire reigns.”
“They fought back,” you protest. “Queen Nana was killed fighting him – King Toshinori was badly wounded –”
“And King Izuku never tried,” Sir Tomura sneers. “In spite of their goodness, they turned away. They were too good to do what had to be done, so it fell to me to slay the monster and tear down his throne.”
Sir Tomura wasn’t mentioned in the prophecy. Why would it fall to him? “And look what I’ve done,” he continues. A harsh laugh tears free from his throat. “Spared a kingdom of cowards and fools from destruction they deserve only slightly less.”
The questions bursts out of you. “If you despise us so much, why did you come here?”
“This kingdom owes me a debt,” Sir Tomura says. “I have nowhere else to go.”
You have nothing to say in response to that. You expect Sir Tomura to look pleased at silencing you, but he doesn’t. “Receive a stand for my armor if you wish it,” he says, and you depart, feeling sick to your stomach.
The White Death’s words cling to you as you search for a spare armor stand. What had to be done. What could he mean by that? What would the White Death do that the good kings and queens of your kingdom wouldn’t try? The answer occurs to you at once. Dark magic. Magic that corrupts the mind and soul, magic that leaves cursed wounds and blighted lands in its wake. Of course the kings and queens of the High Kingdom would never do such a thing. But if that was what it would take to end the Enemy’s reign of terror, then maybe –
It’s not your place to decide such things. You find a spare stand in the armory and cart it back to the deserted wing of the palace, only to be accosted on the way by the tailor Hakamada. “You’re attending him? Good. These are for the feast tonight.”
He thrusts a package into your arms, even though your hands are already full. “Ensure he wears them. His presence is an affront, but he’ll be properly dressed if it’s the last thing I do.”
Given that Hakamada isn’t the one forcing the new clothes on Sir Tomura, it’s more likely to be the last thing you do. You set off again, struggling under the weight of both the package and the stand at once.
Sir Tomura seems surprised that you’ve returned, but he doesn’t mock you over it – yet. He allows you to set up the stand, and to begin to store his armor properly, although he refuses to allow you anywhere near the sword. “It’s cursed,” he says, even though you didn’t ask. “Once it tastes a victim’s blood, that person is doomed to wither and rot. Did you know that?”
“I heard rumors,” you say carefully. “There are many rumors about you.”
“They aren’t rumors if they’re true,” Sir Tomura says. “Almost all of them are.”
It doesn’t surprise you that the White Death knows his own legends. “Which ones aren’t?”
Sir Tomura doesn’t answer. He’s investigating the package from Hakamada, which you set down on the end of the still-unmade bed. You, meanwhile, find yourself transfixed by the tear in the breastplate of his armor. It’s been split nearly in half. You lean closer, paper and fabric rustling behind you, in order to peer at the edges of the breastplate, the padding inside, and a needle of shock and fear drives itself through you. All of it is stained with blood. “My Lord –”
You turn to find yourself facing Sir Tomura half-dressed, in clean breeches and bare feet, having just removed his shirt. His bare skin is laced with scars, some old and some newer, but none so terrible as the enormous wound in his chest, so fresh it can barely be called healed. It matches the tear in the breastplate exactly. Sir Tomura glances at the breastplate, then at you. Then he turns away.
“My Lord,” you start, “if you need a healer –”
“It’s a cursed wound,” Sir Tomura says. “It will never heal.”
That was in the prophecy, too – something about a blow from which the victor will never recover. You know it’s half the reason King Izuku held off. He has no heir, nor an obvious successor among his advisors, and everyone assumed the blow described in the prophecy would be fatal. You mind feels frozen, caught between horror and sadness and trapped in confusion. If what everyone says is true, and it is, Shigaraki Tomura is a monster. If what everyone says is true, and it is, King Izuku is a good king. If both of those things are true, then why did the monster fulfill the prophecy? Why has the good king offered him so meager a welcome? You don’t know what to do with the White Death, who saved your kingdom, whose infamous fury has yet to make an appearance since he arrived at the castle.  Neither does anyone else.
Sir Tomura is fumbling with his new shirt, cursing. You abandon the armor and come forward. “May I help, my Lord?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t refuse, and you take the risk of helping anyway, straightening the useless ruffles, doing up the pearl buttons, staying well clear of the terrible wound. “It takes a monster to slay a monster,” the White Death says, as you smooth out the lines of his shirt. “And now you all must live with the monster that survived.”
He looks down at you, the ghost of the sneer from before distorting his features. “Is that pity I see on your face? Save your pity. It’s useless to me.”
“I don’t pity you,” you say. You can’t – not when he’s done such terrible things, not when you can’t begin to calculate whether what he did in fulfilling the prophecy cancels any of them out. But you do feel something. You can be honest about that. “I was thinking that it was a brave thing to do, my Lord. To face the Enemy when you weren’t the chosen one, and knowing that the consequences were severe even if you should win. That is all.”
A hint of surprise crosses Shigaraki Tomura’s face. “Do the words monster and villain mean nothing to you?”
“They do,” you say. “But I have never seen it written that a monster cannot be brave. Or that a villain must always be a villain.”
The White Death scoffs. “Are you waiting for me to become a true knight?”
“Only as long as you would wait for me to become a fair lady,” you say. “That is to say, a very long time.”
“A long time to become a lady, perhaps.” Sir Tomura extends one hand towards you, slowly, as though he’s expecting you to flinch or bolt. “You were fair before you knelt at my feet.”
You’re not sure what he means to do with his hand, but you reach out and capture it anyway. There’s only one thing you can think of to do, and you do it – bow low over it to kiss his knuckles, just as you’ve seen lords do for their ladies a thousand times. And you speak, words you’re certain no one has uttered since he arrived. “Thank you for what you did. Even if it was not done for us,” you say. “And thank you, too, for saying I was fair. You did not need to say that.”
“I didn’t lie.” Sir Tomura has yet to take his hand back. You don’t know what to do but keep holding it. “It seems that you are in my debt now.”
Just like that, you’re nervous again. You know what knights often ask, or demand, from the women who cross their paths. “How shall I repay it?”
“This feast,” the White Death says. You look up, startled. “You will accompany me.”
“My Lord –”
“Since I have arrived here, no one has met my eyes, nor spoken to me as you have.” He’s averting his eyes from yours now. “I would like to spend one evening in the company of someone who does not find my company torturous.”
“I would, my Lord, but it is simply not done.” You’re surprised at how upsetting it is to be unable to grant such a simple wish. You let go of his hand and drop into a curtsy, replacing the distance that should exist between you, rather than the odd intimacy of the last few moments. “No true knight would bring a servant as his companion to a royal feast.”
“I see,” Sir Tomura says. His hand slips beneath your chin, tilting your face upwards, and you see that same flash of interest in his red eyes. This time it has staying power, as his callused hand molds to the shape of your jaw and his lips curve into the first smile you’ve seen from him. “It’s fortunate, then, that I am no true knight.”
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sweetlywriting · 8 months ago
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Allegiance
Part 1 Part 2
Feyd Rautha x Reader
Sypnosis- To save your weakening house you propose a marriage to Feyd Rautha through the creation of a flower that blooms in color, even on the black and white planet of Geidi Prime. Though the stakes are high-if the flower does not bloom, you must face Feyd in the arena instead of the altar.
Warnings- Manipulation and toxic behaviors, blood and violence, enemies to fiancés to deep mutual understanding(?)
A/N- Read part 1 first! It will make a lot more sense!(it’s good I promise) + lmk if you want to be added to the tag list <3
You scanned the topography of Geidi Prime desperately from above your spacecraft, surrounded by your attendants as they aided in your search. You all carefully watched for a glimpse of a yellow flower in the barren black and white land.
“Bring me my armor, quickly.” You ordered the attendants. The ship was getting too close to land and you had seen no evidence of the blooms. The fortnight had come. Your flowers had failed and thus your proposal. Now you had to face the consequences with your life, fighting in the arena.
“Surely we can wait a bit longer-“ One of your closer attendants said in a worried voice.
“We cannot, you must leave me here and quickly go back home. Do not come back. If I die do not retrieve my body.” You said, trying not let a tremble in your voice. Feyd was a gamble, and you were a fool to take it. Your attendants silently lamented as they quickly undressed you from the beautiful ceremonial dress into heavy armor.
You embraced the attendants you had known since childhood and got off the ship, watching as it quickly receded back towards your home planet. You were greeted by Harkonnen servants as they led you to what only you could assumed would be the arena. Though as you walked through the twisting hallways of the palace you ended up in a private garden-your breath caught in your throat seeing a large bloom of yellow flowers. You had succeeded. Relief flowed through you as you tried not buckle to the floor. Alongside the flowers was Feyd, walking up to you and gesturing for the servants to leave.
He pulled one of the flowers, striding your way and you hesitantly stood your ground as he came closer, able to feel the heat of his breath fanning your neck but never letting your eyes off the sheath at his side as he placed the yellow flower in your hair and drew away.
“I like your attire.” He said in a mocking way. You knew it was unusual to wear armor to an engagement, though only until some seconds ago you were convinced on having to fight a battle to the death.
“But I can’t say I didn’t expect it. I think it rather suits you.” He said, running his eyes over the armor well fitted to your figure. You pursed your lips. He knew you wouldn’t see the Solaris flower if he kept it in a garden. He knew you would see the absence and prepare for battle. He wanted you to feel that fear. ‘What an awful trick’ you thought trying to swallow the infuriation.
“Didn’t bring any attendants either hm?” He said laughing lightly but you could see the adding irony in his little trick. By making you think you had lost the gamble you had to send your people back for their safety-but now you had lost a share of your own safety, completely isolated and surrounded by Harkonnens in their own territory. He had turned out to be much more manulaptive than you thought.
“So . . . you’ll marry me?” You asked wanting to get this done as swiftly as possible.
“Yes, I’ll keep my word. Though my family isn’t quite as . . . accepting. You’ll have to prove your worth to them yourself, I can only offer you some protection. And of course I don’t have to that.” He said, dragging out the last sentence in his sly voice.
“Let’s see if you can survive a week.”
***
For a month you had navigated the difficult environment of the Harkonnens house estate, writing encrypted letters to your family, learning Giedi Prime’s complex local languages, and trying not to get assassinated by your future in laws.
Even now, with the privilege of a seat at their dining table, you didn’t dare take more than sip of your drink or eat anything served cold. Heat killed poison, so you opted for things that burned your tongue, relishing in the taste of living another day. They didn’t speak much, but you knew if you survived today the honorary courtship of one month would be over, and you could finally marry Feyd and send your people the aid they truly deserved. You kept this in the forefront of your mind as you learned to deflect the Harkonnens veiled threats and insults. Feyd did little to ease this-sometimes adding on or jesting along with them.
But as you started to walk back to your designated chamber on the thirty first day after dinner you felt relief flood through you. It was over. You could sleep peacefully tonight, marry Feyd, and quickly return to your home planet-
You turned as a sharp pain grazed your shoulder, sparsely dodging a dagger aimed to your chest. Immediately starting to run from the hand that had dealt it. Glossu Rabban Harkonnen. Feyd’s cousin and previous commander to Arrakis. He had sneered at you and paid you the respect of an attendant, but had shown no sign of wanting to kill you nor anything to benefit from it.
The pain was intensifying as you continued to sprint, you couldn’t run forever. But where to go? The guards were all Harkonnens, all your people had left, and you had no allies on this hollow planet.
But perhaps one. He didn’t seem to care for you, much less your life, but this was the only chance left. You prayed he was in his room.
“Feyd” you rasped knocking fervently at his door willing it to just open, to just-
“This isn’t what I told you to do.” You heard a voice hiss, from . . . behind you?
You turned to see Feyd and his cousin arguing in hall behind you as you slumped to the foot of the door clutching your shoulder.
“You asked me to test her-“ Rabban said indignantly.
“Not like this-“ Feyd hissed.
“It’s fine, it was just a little scratch and she came to your room anyway-“
Rabban stopped mid speech as the Feyd quickly pulled out his own blade, the sound of metal clashing reverberated in your head for what felt like hours until Rabban began to retreat. You paid no mind, cursing yourself for being stupid enough to come to Feyd’s room when he gotten you into this very situation. ‘Of course it was just another ‘test’, simply another mind game for him’ you thought.
You frowned as he approached, but he hauled you by your uninjured arm and pushed you into his room. You stumbled on to a chair and watched as he dug around cabinets and chests setting salve, alcohol, and dressing bandages on a table.
He didn’t offer any apologies or condolences for what he did, but rather took his own blade to the same point you had been slit, quickly running his dagger through his own shoulder.
He didn’t speak or seem to mind the fact his own blood was staining the white floor red as he dressed your wound. Deep red ran down his arm and traced itself over the curvature of his veins.
Seeing the way he ignored his wound as though it was simply not there, the way his eyes focused on your cut with sound precision, the way he ripped the long bandage with his teeth-you began to understand why house Harkonnen repayed blood with blood. You had the odd urge to kiss him.
“We are allies.” He said this with little emotion or regard, as though stating a fact. Your loyalty had been proven, and now so had his.
For the first time since you had gotten on this morbid planet you laughed.
“I suppose we’ll having matching scars to wear for our wedding.”
Tag list: @szapizzapanda, @moonsoulk, @unicoreads, @avidreader73, @flower-frog
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The Arcana HCs: Babysitting Taiga
~ written for @vesuviaweekly's prompt "Familiar Swap" ~
WELP here it is, I'm boring so my irl cat Taiga is my self insert (Drue's) familiar. And as we all know, familiars do reflect their owner's feelings for the people around them ...
Julian
Generally adept at recognizing the personality in things and immediately started referring to her as "her ladyship"
Got bapped (claws in) the first time he got carried away trying to bond too fast. Gave her all of two minutes of space before resorting right back to pspspssing
Known to engage in long conversations with her (she's very vocal as far as meowing goes) and loves making up silly conversation topics (you caught him with a stray in the dumpster? no!)
Frequently ends up on the other side of the "i'm not impressed" cat stare and usually takes that as his cue to provide ear scritches
Will simply pick her up for snuggles whenever he wants them, which she will hop out of as soon as she's done (she does tolerate his affection longer than most visitors, though)
Asra
Often jokes that Taiga could just as easily be their familiar as Drue's, just like Faust. They're weirdly in sync
So. Many. Catnaps. As soon as he starts fluffing up a pillow pile, Taiga's kneading the closest fluffy blanket so she can curl up against him as soon as he lies down
One of the few people she will purr around
Knows they're an enabler and consistent source of treats
Has been known to sit on his chest, make eye contact, slowly and deliberately place a paw on his nose, and then meow pitifully until he gives her pets/treats/food/attention
Has a habit of swatting at their necklace when they play
Will allow him to dress her in whatever weird accessories he's made/sourced for her and then wake him up at 3 AM in revenge
Nadia
Nadia didn't jump straight into Taiga's personal space as soon as they met, which is why they get along so well. There's a healthy respect there
Trips to the Palace can be stressful for a cat who's not familiar with it, but visits always end up going smoothly
Likes to climb on her lap while she's talking and loaf there
This does lead to Nadia idly stroking her, which initially resulted in getting gently nipped but is now usually greatly appreciated
Drue still apologizes for the first time Nadia came to the shop, pet Taiga while she was in her lap, and then got nipped. Nadia thinks it's a great story. Taiga has no shame about it
Taiga prefers sitting in her lap/on her shoulder to Drue's while she's in meetings. They like to play into each other's regal auras
Muriel
One of her favorite napping trees. Tall, permanently warm, usually wearing some kind of fur - he's perfect
Often attempts to groom him (licking his hair/scruff) in thanks. Muriel appreciates the warm gesture but not necessarily the cat smell that gets all over him as a result
Probably the only person Taiga's never swatted at/bapped. He's too much of a calming presence for her and so hands-off that all the affection involved is cat-initiated
Freaks him out completely when she has zoomies. She's moving too fast, happily yowling at the top of her lungs, and using his shoulders as a springboard for the ceiling
Despite his apathetic attitude, he always shows up with a scrap of fish for her and has been known to carry her around like baby
Portia
Clicked from the get-go. Portia knows cats and Taiga knows safe people. There's just one problem - Pepi
To say that there was some initial tension there would be an understatement. Neither of them want to miss out on any potential affection from the humans around them
Thankfully, they do quickly discover that it's possible for cats to enjoy each other's presence, at which point Taiga enjoys visits to the cottage for Pepi more than for Portia
All four of them (Pepi, Portia, Drue, and Taiga) have healthy individual doses of chaotic impulses so getting them all together in one space quickly devolves into questionable decision making
Constantly meowing back and forth with her, which often culminates in a two-minute case of zoomies
Lucio
She met his dogs before she met him and it didn't go well
Taiga was a street cat in a rough area before Drue found her. Her fight-or-flight instinct is hardwired to fight and that's exactly what she did when Mercedes and Melchior shoved their noses at her
Those poor dogs got several hefty whacks to the noses
They get along much better now - especially when there's a surface she can chill on out of the dog's reach, just to reinforce personal space boundaries
Likes Lucio's human hand pets, but gets immediately spooked anytime his metal hand makes contact. It's cold
Will walk up to his white clothing items, wait for him to say "don't touch that", and then make eye contact while she very purposefully places a single paw on it
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ashprince-of-bel-air · 3 days ago
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Little Dove: Part 2
Im flattered you guys liked part 1! Here is part 2 and I'm going to try and write a couple more chapters!
Part one
Your mind had lingered on Emperor Caracalla ever since the day you attended that court, the twinkle in his eye as he spoke to you and the way he kissed your hand, bringing a blush to your face every time you remembered it. Once you would have dreaded the next calling of the senate, now you were praying for the days to pass in the hopes you could see Caracalla again.
The Gladiator Games were set to begin on the morrow, a special occasion to appease the Gods. Rome had not felt the relief of rain for months now, her citizens were were on the brink of unrest and madness. Food had come in short supply to its people, fueling the fire that had already been simmering for the last decade under the rule of the twin Emperors.
The Games were to be a grand spectacle, to rival that of the celebration thrown when the Emperors were coronated. It was to be a multi day spectacle of battle, blood and victory, one that anyone of importance was expected to attend, any snub would be considered a slight against the Gods and the Emperors promised there would be punishment for it.
As a senator your father was expected to attend all 3 days of the Games, ones that you would be attending with him, making your official debut to the entire senate and the public. You knew the reason for this, he was trying to marry you off to a man of influence, to further his career in the senate, you would never carve your own path like your brother's would, your worth lay with whomever would take you as a wife, a fact you wholly resented.
The sun bore down relentlessly over the stadium, the heat of it feeling more intense by the minute, almost becoming unbearable as the day wore on. You watched the matches enthusiastically, these were your first games and you were surprised at how enthralled you were. Previously you had believed them to be barbaric and unnecessary, yet you could not deny the pull of them as you sat in the stadium. The roar of the crowd and atmosphere was hypnotic as you found yourself cheering on the gladiators, each battle more exciting than the next.
The next match was the main event the munera, the top gladiator's from the best ludus' would compete to become primus palus of the day. It was to be the bloodiest competition of the day, one that everyone had waited for, taking bets on which gladiator would become the victor. The battle was hard one by a gladiator named Septimus, you joined the crowd in chanting his name as he made his victory lap, caught up in the moment, not noticing a certain Emperor looking down upon you from the royal box, a smile spreading across his face as he watched you enjoy the games.
An invite to the royal palace for a banquet worthy of the Gods was extended to all the senators who attended the games, the finest wine and food would be served to Rome's finest citizens. The palace was awe inspiring, you had never seen such grandeur, it made your father's villa look shabby in comparison. Marble and gold adorned every room, rich tapestrys hung through the hallways as you and your father made your way to the banquet hall, ready to mingle with the rest of the senate.
For once it was nice to be holding a cup of wine rather than pouring it, though the eyes of the lecherous old senators were still raking over your body; you made sure to not let it ruin this night for you, your first and maybe only royal banquet. You could feel the hot gaze of your father upon you as the night went on, each man he sent to you walked away with a sour look on his face, you were beautiful but not worth the effort these men would have to put into courting you. You would pay for this act of defiance after the games were done but you were too busy reveling in the banquet to care.
Though Caracalla had senators queuing up to vie for his and Geta's attention he never took his eyes off you once he spotted you. He knew you would be in attendance and would make his way to you at his first opportunity. The way you rejected the advances of the men who came to you made him chuckle, many women would love the attention yet you spurned it, you were different and it made him want you more.
Finally the senators had stopped approaching him, he had grown tired of the baseless flattery of men who did not mean it, only attempting to gain influence. Caracalla sat upon his throne, his loyal monkey Dundus upon his shoulder, feeding her grapes and laughing as she ruffled his hair, growing excited from the bustle of the crowd. A thought popped into his head as he finally caught you stood on your own, having rejected another man for the night, he knew how to get your attention.
Caracalla stroked Dundus' small paw and pointed to you in the corner, motioning for her to go to you. As Dundus crawled away he smiled to himself, he knew this would get your attention and he watched the situation unfold.
It was nice to have a moment of peace, the men and old senators finally having given up on you for the night, you let out a relieved sigh and took a big gulp of wine. It wasn't long until you felt a scurry up your dress, you almost screamed until you recognised the cheeky monkey from before. You giggled as you felt her play with your hair once again "Well hello Lady Dundus" Stroking her head and playfully shaking her tiny paw. "And where is your master then?" You smiled at her before looking up, seeing Caracalla sat in the distance, a smile upon his face as he looked at you, his eyes flitting up and down over your figure.
This was a perfect opportunity for you to speak to him again, hoping the blush wouldn't creep up onto your cheeks as you spoke to him, wanting to keep your composure before him. You walked through the crowd to stand before his throne, ignoring the stares as you walked past with the Emperor's prized pet upon your shoulder.
"My Emperor" You bowed politely before him, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach almost making you stutter as you spoke. You held your hand up to Dundus who was happily sat upon your shoulder, letting her grip and inspect your fingers curiously. "She is a very cheeky one isn't she my Emperor?" Your voice playful, hoping you were not being to over familiar with him.
"She just knows a pretty lady when she sees one, Little Dove" The nickname made you blush ever so slightly, unable to think of a clever answer to him like you would to any other man who tried to flirt with you. Caracalla held out his arm and Dundas swiftly jumped back to her master, nestling onto his shoulder playing with his hair once more, ruffling it in a way that made him look even more attractive.
"So my Little Dove, did you enjoy the games today?" His smile was cocky as he spoke, he knew you enjoyed the games, he spent most of the day glancing down at you in the stands below his royal box. "Yes my Emperor, it was my first time attending and it was enthralling, I must admit I may have gotten caught up in the excitement of the crowd though." You spoke without thinking, admitting you got caught upon in the crowd was unbecoming of you but you found it hard to censor your thoughts Infront of him now.
"The games will do that to a person, the primal nature of them gets to all of us my dear" Caracalla spoke softly to you, finding your nervousness towards him flattering, especially after you had spent the entire night ruthlessly rejecting any other man who came before you. A thought popped into his head as he spoke to you, thinking this would be the best way to get you to himself.
"I want you to join me in the royal box for tomorrows games Little Dove, it is an entirely different experience viewing from the heights that Gods would" His eyes gazed over your face, judging your reaction before quickly adding. "Your father would also be invited of course" He did not need to invite your father, he was the Emperor and he could do as he pleased, yet he did not want to offend him or have him take his wrath out on you.
Your eyes light up at the invite, not only would you get to be in close proximity with Caracalla again but you were invited to the royal box, a luxury very few would ever be afforded. You bowed quickly again, this time trying to hide the blush that was now very apparent on your face. "Thank you my Emperor, I shall inform my father right away and you can make the arrangements with him" Your smile was wide as you made your way quickly to your father, almost giddy as you told him. Obviously your father would not decline, you even almost saw a twinkle in his eye as you told him but you were too excited to care. You would be joining Emperor Caracalla in the royal box tomorrow, a thought that caused your heart to flutter, excited as to what day 2 of the games would bring.
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