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crowdvscritic · 2 years ago

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round up // JUNE 23

The best things come in pairs in this Round Up. A few repeat offenders this June:

Jason Schwartzman

Harrison Ford

Brad Pitt

Pixar

Archeological digs

Sports stories

1943 musicals

Tap dancing

‘80s pop-rock records

Two Tales of Cities

And, as always, Crowd and Critic are best when they’re in tandem. These are my top picks for June 2023 in the order I experienced them:

June Crowd-Pleasers

1. Shooting Stars (2023)

As a sports dilettante, I knew nothing about LeBron James’s pre-NBA life. (Full disclosure: I don’t know much about his post-NBA life either.) This sports drama probably sands off some edges (James produced this movie based on a book he wrote), but it hits its marks. It’s inspirational but not schmaltzy, and thanks to great performances (including an always stellar Caleb McLaughlin and I’m-always-glad-when-he-pops-up Dermot Mulroney), this story of five basketball-obsessed kids growing up is much better than you’d expect for a direct-to-Peacock movie. Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 7/10

2. Elemental (2023)

Pixar is back to basics with Elemental. In the best way, that means Pixar is up to their old shenanigans, but in another sense, it means this movie is, well, basic. Read my full review at ZekeFilm or watch my segment on KMOV to give you an idea on whether Pixar’s latest is for you. Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

3. Flamin’ Hot (2023)

What Flamin’ Hot lacks in heat it makes up for in heart. With its relatable stakes and the comedy it finds in skewering corporate culture, this kind-of-true story of the creation of the Flamin’ Hot Cheeto (yes, really) is about as good as it could be. Read my full review at ZekeFilm. Crowd: 8/0 // Critic: 7/10

4. Coco (2017)

Finally watched after being one of my top “oops, I haven’t seen this yet” titles for years. Yes, Pixar did make me sob again. Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10

5. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny (2023)

Do you love to feel nostalgia or to be surprised? Do you like old school action or newfangled special effects? Do you enjoy historical adventures or stories about modern issues? Then the fifth Indiana Jones episode is for you! Literally the only thing this needed to achieve was to surpass the quality of Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, but why settle for that when you can make an action-packed adventure better than most summer blockbuster fare? Given that Raiders of the Lost Ark and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade are two of the best adventure movies (or perhaps, just movies) of the 20th century, it’s no insult to say The Dial of Destiny ranks third for me in Indy’s canon with Temple of Doom and Crystal Skull following in distant fourth and fifth places. Crowd: 10/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

6. Bananarama-thon + Bangle-mania + Go-Go-palooza

What says “summer” more than 1980s girl pop-rock bands? (Or really, 1980s pop-rock period?) Bananarama, The Bangles, and The Go-Go’s made excellent summer soundtracks with their respective albums Deep Sea Skiving (1983), Bananarama (1984), and True Confessions (1986); All Over the Place (1984), Different Light (1986), and Everything (1988); and Beauty and the Beat (1981), Vacation (1982), and Talk Show (1984). Also, does Bananarama’s debut album have the greatest cover art of all time?

7. Sports Night (1998-2000)

My binge of short-lived behind-the-scenes shows continues! Clearly Aaron Sorkin and pals like Tommy Schlamme were still learning the ropes of TV, and they were not helped by the fact that premiering in the ‘90s mandated a laugh track in the first season. But the bones of Sorkin’s future are there: Josh Charles and Peter Krause’s bromance feels like laying the track for some of the best of The West Wing, and Felicity Huffman is one of his iconic strong female leads. Robert Guillaume’s elder statesmen of TV (both in front and behind of the camera) is the glue that holds the show together, and the show’s love for sports is so infectious it draws in non-sporty girlies like me.

8. Legal Eagles (1986)

A legal dramedy starring Robert Redford directed with the light touch of Ivan Reitman? This art heist murder mystery co-starring Debra Winger and Daryl Hannah is a hidden gem of the ‘80s...and also an addition to my Favorite Tap Dances list on Letterboxd? Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 7.5/10

9. The Stone Roses by The Stone Roses (1989)

A Rolling Stone article I shared last month got me curious about this band (whom I know nothing about beyond that article), and this album has been scratching The Smiths itch that lives in me.

June Critic Picks

1. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023)

It’s a visual wonder with stellar voice work, especially Jason Schwartzman’s clever villain, and once we get to the Nueva York universe, everything flies. But boy, does it take a while to get there. I normally reserve my Round Ups for praise, but since Across the Spider-Verse’s nearly universal acclaim won’t be tarnished by my critique, the spirit of transparency compels me to complain this film is at least 30 minutes too long. When you’re trying to be both a Gwen Stacy movie and a Miles Morales movie, the somber first hour slows down even more and delays revisiting the stuff we loved most in the first film. The kids next to me were antsy well before this was over, my dad fell asleep in the middle (which he never does), and then it rivals Lord of the Rings for fake out endings. Here's hoping Spider-Ham and Spider-Man Noir get to make up for their lost time in part 3! Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8/10

2. Ninotchka (1939)

When Soviet Greta Garbo travels to Paris on Communist Party business, can she resist the city’s charms? She and her fellow comrades find themselves succumbing to the amenities, champagne, and romance they can’t find in Mother Russia. An Ernst Lubitsch-directed rom-com co-written by Billy Wilder can’t miss! Crowd: 8.5/10 // Critic: 9/10

3. Little Women (2017)

Another Round Up, another version of Little Women. I immediately pushed this PBS miniseries to the top of my watchlist when I dug into Little Mermaid star Jonah Hauer-King’s past filmography and discovered he performed alongside Angela Lansbury (!!!). Though I expect the budget was smaller than a big screen feature’s, the extended runtime allows for moments we haven’t seen depicted on film before. The cast of ringers includes Lansbury as a delightfully cranky Aunt March and Hauer-King as a lovelorn Laurie, as well Maya Hawke as Jo, Kathryn Newton as Amy, and Michael Gambon as Mr. Laurence in an 1860s Concord as bucolic as ever. Like a warm, encouraging hug!

4. Past Lives (2023)

This bittersweet romantic drama makes me want to call up my boyfriend who moved away the summer after 7th grade and the guy I never dated in college who studied abroad and then transferred and that boy I met at a party a few years ago who said he was moving next week to sail boats in Delaware and then be disappointed none of them are as I remember or imagined who they would become. The best film of the year so far? Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 10/10

5. Double Feature - Silly 1943 Musicals About Marrying for Money: Du Barry Was a Lady + Higher and Higher

Movies today should try being as weird as ‘40s musicals. In Higher and Higher (Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 7.5/10), a one-time millionaire tries to marry off his maid to a wealthy bachelor, though she may prefer to romance Frank Sinatra (playing himself!) instead. In Du Barry Was a Lady (7.5/10 // 8/10), Lucille Ball is trying to snag herself a rich guy, though she may prefer to romance Gene Kelly instead. (This is a much more obvious addition to my Favorite Tap Dances list on Letterboxd.) Both are silly, but when you’ve got Sinatra singing or Kelly dancing to Cole Porter songs, you’ve still got wow moments. More movies today should detour into 18th century dream sequences!

6. Valley of the Kings (1954)

Robert Taylor and Eleanor Parker go on a high-stakes archaeological dig in the early 1900s set in front of gorgeous photography in Egypt. A fun prototype for Indiana Jones and The Mummy! Crowd: 7/10 // Critic: 8/10

7. Asteroid City (2023)

Something Wes Anderson does not get enough credit for: The man has never made a film longer than two hours. This spring’s trend of Wes Anderson-inspired social media may have brought attention to the previously unacquainted, but it took only a few of those superficially xanthic posts to exhaust my Instagram feed. Most social filmmaking is ugly and chaotic, but Anderson’s attention to detail when blocking his troupe of players in the golden ratio, designing perfectly-shaped mushroom clouds, and using color theory to select his palette doesn’t just hold up on a big screen—it deserves it. Read my full review at ZekeFilm. Crowd: 7/10 // Critic: 10/10

8. Double Feature - ‘90s Brad Pitt: Legends of the Fall (1994) + The Devil’s Own (1997)

In Legends of the Fall (Crowd: 8/10 // Critic: 8.5/10), Brad Pitt’s nonconformist Tristan upends the lives of his family members (including Anthony Hopkins and Julia Ormond) as they strive to keep their Montana estate through World War I, Prohibition, and the Great Depression. In The Devil’s Own (Crowd: 9/10 // Critic: 9/10), Pitt’s IRA terrorist Rory upends the life of the family who takes him in (including Harrison Ford) when he escapes to America. One is a soapy historical epic, one is a gritty police thriller, but both show the promise of Pitt’s career.

9. A Tale of Two Cities (1935)

A pretty good adaptation of one of my favorite high school English class reads. Though the nuance and depth of the Mr. Charles “I Get Paid by the Word” Dickens novel can’t be captured in just two hours and the portrayal of Lucie is, well, a lot, Ronald Colman’s Sydney and Blanche Yurka’s Madame De Farge are pitch-perfect, and it’s as moving as its source material. Crowd: 7.5/10 // Critic: 8.5/10

10. Good Reads

The incessant onslaught of more-TV-than-can-possibly-be-watched is reaching critical mass:

“The Idol and Our Backlash Times,” NYTimes.com (2023)

“‘The End of Peak Television:’ Has the Era of Prestige TV Just Ground to a Halt?” TheGuardian.com (2023)

“Peak TV Is Over. Welcome to Trough TV,” slate.com (2023)

“From Warrior Nun to Three Women, TV Shows are Being Cancelled. Yet Somehow Emily in Paris Lives On,” TheGuardian.com (2023)

“Media's Succession Obsession,” axios.com (2023)

Thoughts on our moment in diversity in TV and movies:

“Box Office: Early Summer Tentpoles Cash In, Fueled by Diverse Stars,” HollywoodReporter.com (2023)

“‘Why is Bridgerton’s Race Twisting Acceptable?’ The Real Problem With the Show’s Black Fantasy,” TheGuardian.com (2023)

The Hollywood Reporter continues its impressive breadth of Writer’s Strike coverage:

“Tom Hanks, Baby Jessica and Lessons from a Three Strike Writer,” HollywoodReport.com (2023)

“Guest Column: If Writers Lose the Standoff With Studios, It Hurts All Filmmakers,” HollywoodReporter.com (2023)

And a grab bag of pieces on baseball, basketball, and Beyoncé:

“The Team Trying Very, Very Hard to Be the Worst in Baseball History,” slate.com (2023)

“Beyoncé Caused Sweden Inflation Bump, Expert Says,” politico.eu (2023)

“The 100 Most Significant Political Films of All Time,” NewRepublic.com (2023)

“The Flash Was Never Going to Run Away From Its Problems,” TheRinger.com (2023)

“Employee of the Month Rewarded With More Work,” vice.com (2023)

Also in June…

I’m processing a lot of emotions about what’s going on at Turner Classic Movies, and I’ve yet to figure out how to put them into words. Until I get there, I’m constantly adding to my list of movies I’ve watched thanks to the people who work there, and you can see the almost-350 of them on Letterboxd.

Until the end of July, you can see what I’m watching in real time on Letterboxd. Yes, I’ve seen Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning Part One; no I can’t talk about it until after the review embargo lifts on July 5th.

Pending Twitter doesn’t self-implode before you read this, you can also find me there.

Photo credits: Bananarama, The Stone Roses, Good Reads. All others IMDb.com.

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

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Mistress

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader} It's a stormy night on Dragonstone and you seek solace in your queen's bed, but a certain king consort joins the two of you, making the evening even more interesting...

4.6k words - Warnings: smut, incest, daemyra centric, voyeurism, ffm threesome, tribbing, fingering, oral (male & female receiving) face sitting, riding, Daemon being cheeky, Rhaenyra being a bit nervous& inexperienced in pleasing a woman, lots of kisses, tons of fluff & teensy tiny bit of somnophilia ...

{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}

@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer @cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke @deamonloverrrr

It was well past midnight on Dragonstone, the sound of rain tapping on the stone floor filled the quiet halls of the castle. It was dark and cold but that did not bother the two lovers as they embraced in the sheets, bodies entangled in one another.

Soft moans and heavy breaths filled the room as you straddled your queen, the sheets pooling around your waists as your lips moved against her plump ones, kissing her deeply. Your fingers danced up her arms, her shoulders, and her neck before finding their way into her beautiful silver-gold hair. Her own hands were running down your back and over the curve of your ass before giving it a light squeeze.

A quiet giggle escaped your lips as she squeezed again, and you pulled away from her slightly, pressing your forehead against hers as you both gazed into each other's eyes. You could see the lust and passion as she smiled, moving a hand from your ass and up your side before cupping your cheek and bringing you back to her for another kiss.

Rhaenyra had never felt the touch of another woman before, nor the taste of her lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest, feeling you against her as she deepened the kiss. The feeling of your bare skin against her own was magic. Your warm soft breasts pressing against hers, making her nipples harden against your chest. She could feel the wetness between her thighs, and she knew you could feel it too.

"Your grace," you murmured against her lips, your soft hands caressing the young queen's face, "you are shaking," you told her, feeling her body trembling beneath you.

"I'm just a little cold," Rhaenyra lied, she felt heat flood her cheeks at the way you smiled down at her.

"Then let me warm you," you replied, pulling her closer to you as you moved a hand down her neck and between her breasts, your fingers trailing her soft pale skin. You moved down her stomach, over her navel, and through the neatly trimmed patch of hair on her mound before reaching her soaking wet center.

You watched your queen's face closely, her eyes fluttering shut as you ran a finger along the wetness, making her let out a moan, her lips parting. You smiled at her reaction and brought your finger to her pearl, rubbing the sensitive spot gently, watching as Rhaenyras skin began to flush a beautiful pink, her breathing becoming more ragged.

"Does that feel good, your grace?" you asked her, slowly moving your finger back and forth as you lowered your head and kissed her jaw.

"Yes," she breathed, her hips bucking against your touch as her hands gripped the sheets tightly.

To be intimate with a dragon felt like a dream, feeling the heat radiate off of her body, her skin glistening with sweat. It was an honor to teach her, an honor to touch her, and an honor to watch her as she was pleasured.

You gently pushed her back onto the bed, her silver-gold hair fanned out on the pillow like a halo around her head, the moonlight shining through the window, illuminating her body. You wondered if the Targaryens tasted different than other women, their blood was so close to dragon blood, the magic that was once coursing through their veins, maybe it still did, maybe it still lingered.

Rhaenyra looked up at you with wide eyes as you kissed down the valley between her breasts and over her stomach, your warm lips leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites on her skin. You glanced up at her, making sure she was okay as you kissed her mound. You could smell her sweet scent, like honey and jasmine.

Your eyes stayed locked with hers as you slowly moved down, kissing her inner thigh, your nose tickling her soft flesh. You could hear her breath catch in her throat as you pressed a soft kiss against her swollen pearl, her hips lifting up slightly at the feeling. You smiled and gave it another kiss, flicking your tongue over it before sucking it into your mouth.

You could feel her squirming beneath you, her thighs trying to close around your head. You placed a hand on her stomach, holding her still as you licked, sucked and nipped. Her moans filled the room, her back arching off the bed, her hand flying to the top of your head and pulling on your hair.

Her taste flooded your mouth as she cried out, her body shaking with her climax. You slowly eased your lips off her, moving back and reaching out your hands, pulling her into a sitting position. You kissed her shoulder, her neck, and her jaw, moving your lips up to hers, kissing her gently, letting her taste herself.

"Men, you see, don't know the first thing about a woman's body," you explained, stroking her hair gently as she tried to catch her breath, "they fail to understand just what it takes to please one."

"They can be a bit selfish, can't they?" Rhaenyra whispered, a slow smile spreading across her face as you nodded.

You giggled and wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her flush against your body, your breasts pressed together.

The candles flickered, light bouncing off your bodies which were now glistening with a soft sheen of sweat. The sound of the heavy rainfall and the cracking of the fire drowned out the laboured breathing as you placed your leg over her hip and brought your core against hers.

Rhaenyra gasped when you made contact, and you began to rock your hips, grinding yourself against her. You held her tightly, her hands gripping your ass, squeezing and guiding you, trying to find the right rhythm.

Soft gasps and moans echoed off the stone walls as the two of you moved together, your lips brushing over hers. Rhaenyra moaned into your mouth, becoming lost in the pleasure, the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you against her.

Daemon had always loved a good storm. The sound of the hammering rain, the crack of the lightning and the rumble of thunder made his blood rush.

He had been away from home for far too long, so much that he had forgotten the tranquility Dragonstone provided. Even on nights such as these, when the weather was unpredictable, he loved the thrill of riding on Caraxes over the hills and valleys, letting the storm rage, letting the wind and rain beat his body, it was exhilarating.

But the thrill he craved the most was that of his wife. He missed his queen, his darling Rhaenyra. He missed the way they clashed together, tearing into each other with claws and teeth and desire. Nothing could tame the fire he had for her.

He landed Caraxes in the courtyard and dismounted, his boots splashing in the puddles as he strides towards the main entrance. He entered the castle and began to make his way through the dimly lit halls, heading towards the royal chambers.

Guards watched as the king consort strolled through the castle, drenched from the rain with his hair wet and braided. He was in his element here, walking the halls of his ancestral home, eyes blazing and the blood in his veins running hot.

He came to the large wooden doors of the royal chambers and opened them, entering the room and closing them behind him. The first thing he noticed was the smell. It was sweet, like honey, and the air was thick with a heady aroma.

His eye was immediately drawn to the vast windows, from which he could see the beautiful night sky and the dark and stormy seas, the rain pelted the windows and the sound echoed throughout the room.

A slither of lightning brightened up the room for a moment. the flash of light allowing Daemon to see two naked figures intertwined in a soft and untroubled sleep.

He stayed still by the door, taking in the sight of the two bodies before him. They lay on their sides facing each other, their legs and arms entwined, their hair splayed out on the pillows and their skin glistening. He could see the soft rise and fall of their chests, and the peaceful look on their faces as they slept.

He knew he deserved this, whatever this affair was. He couldn't blame his wife for seeking out affection when he provided her with none. But he would have never expected it to be her closest handmaiden.

He was intrigued by the pair and found himself approaching the bed. He could see your breasts peeking out from the sheets, the way your skin was flushed, and how your hair was sticking to your face and neck. His wife's skin was the same, her cheeks rosy and her lips parted, soft snores escaping.

This was a gift and he couldn't deny himself a taste.

He pulled off his gloves and cloak, leaving them in a heap on the floor, then he approached his wife. He leaned over her, placing a hand on her hip, feeling her warmth against his palm. He slowly slid his hand up her side and over her shoulder, caressing her cheek. He could hear her soft sigh, and her body began to stir as he gently pushed her hair away from her face.

He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her cheek, her skin soft and supple beneath his lips. "Rhaenyra," he purred, kissing further down to her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin, "what are you dreaming about?"

She shifted a little, her head lolling to the side as he kissed her shoulder. Her lips parted, and a quiet moan escaped her, and she turned her head towards him.

"Daemon?" she muttered, her voice sleepy.

He hummed, the sound vibrating against her skin, his stubble scratching her, "wake up, love."

Her eyes slowly opened, and the realization that her husband was home washed over her.

"Daemon," she repeated, her eyes widening.

He pulled back and met her gaze, his lips curling into a wicked grin.

"Hello, my love," he said, his voice low, his tone teasing.

Her heart started to race and she looked over at you, her face reddening when she saw your sleeping form.

"She's new," Daemon commented, noticing the way she watched you, "your first, yes?"

Rhaenyra's blush darkened as she nodded.

He smiled and walked over to you, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes scanned over your body, noticing the way the sheets barely covered your naked form.

"You have good taste," he said, his fingers brushing your cheek, his knuckles lightly grazing your lips.

She couldn't help but watch the way his eye raked over your body, how his touch lingered. It stirred something within her, something she had never felt before. She didn't feel jealous, nor did she feel embarrassed, rather she was curious.

Daemon noticed her watching, and he glanced over at her, smirking at the look on his wife's face.

"Did she teach you much?" he asked her, his fingers running down your arm.

"Some," Rhaenyra answered, her eyes following his fingers, her chest rising and falling as her breathing quickened.

"Show me," Daemon said, looking up at her.

Her eyes met his and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to, she desperately wanted to. The idea of sharing you with him, showing him what you had taught her, ignited a fire in her, one that burned hotter than the one that burned between the two of them.

She nodded, moving towards you, her eyes locked on his.

He smiled, walking over to the nearby table and pouring himself a glass of wine. He leaned back against the table and took a sip as he watched his wife slowly wake you.

You felt a gentle touch on your cheek, a thumb brushing over your lips. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, and your gaze was met by beautiful purple ones, a loving smile gracing the lips of the young queen.

Her kiss was tender and sweet, her hand caressing your cheek as she deepened the kiss. A quiet moan escaped you, and you returned the kiss, reaching out to cup her face, pulling her closer.

The kiss quickly became heated, both of you desperate to taste and feel each other. Your hands wandered, touching and groping, and you let out a soft moan against her lips.

That's when you heard a low, raspy laugh. Your eyes shot open and you looked over Rhaenyra's shoulder and saw Daemon standing by the table, a wine goblet in his hand, his eyes fixed on you.

He smirked, raising his drink in your direction.

Your cheeks burned, realizing the king consort was watching. You quickly sat up, pulling the sheets over your body as Rhaenyra's gaze flicked between you and him.

"No, please, continue, I was enjoying the show," Daemon chuckled, taking a long swig of his wine.

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze and your body tensed as his eyes drifted down your naked body, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You could tell by the growing bulge in his trousers that he was indeed turned on by what he was seeing.

His smile grew, clearly enjoying how flustered you were, how his presence had caught you off guard.

Daemon turned and walked across the room, locking the door, making a point to look at the two of you as he did so. Rhaenyra looked at you and then back at him, swallowing hard as he slowly began walking towards the bed, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor.

He pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it aside, standing before you and Rhaenyra bare-chested. His body was covered in scars from past battles, the damaged skin shining slightly in the moonlight. His eyes were burning with a fire that made the pit of your stomach flutter.

Panic flooded your mind, clouding your reasoning. You quickly scrambled out of bed, holding the sheet to your body. You bowed, your legs trembling slightly as you lowered yourself in front of him.

"M-my king conso-, f-forgive me. I-I...I'm so sorry." You stuttered, your voice shaking, feeling your heart race.

You didn't dare look up at him. You kept your head down and your eyes focused on his feet.

He chuckled, looking at his wife then back at you, taking in the sight of you kneeling before him, your body quivering and the blanket barely covering your breasts. He could see the panic in your eyes, and the way you trembled, like a small bird that had just been caught by a predator.

Daemon grabbed you by the wrist, his grip strong but gentle, pulling you to your feet and back towards the bed, pushing you down next to his wife. You gasped as your back hit the soft mattress and you looked up at him, fear and confusion in your eyes.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice low, his hand reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips.

Your gaze flicked between him and Rhaenyra. They had an intense gaze, and it was clear they had a connection, an energy, a bond. Their eyes locked onto each other, and Daemon smiled, bringing his free hand up to cup her cheek.

"She's a lovely creature, isn't she?" He mused, his eyes still on his wife.

"Yes," Rhaenyra whispered, her cheeks burning and her heart pounding.

"You enjoyed her?"

"Very much."

He hummed, his hand moving up and grasping her chin, pulling her close and kissing her.

You watched in awe as his lips moved against hers, his tongue sliding into her mouth. Rhaenyra's hands rested on his shoulders, clinging tightly to him. You could see her nipples were hard, her breasts pressing against his chest.

"I can taste her on your lips." He said, his voice low, his gaze flicking to you.

Your face turned red, and you couldn't stop staring. They were so beautiful together, their passion seemed to radiate off of them.

Rhaenyra turned to you and smiled, her cheeks flushed and her eyes full of lust.

Daemon smirked, pulling back and moving to lean against the headboard, his eye raking over your body, his cock straining against his trousers.

"Well, don't let me stop you," he said, taking another swig of his wine.

Rhaenyra's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned back to you. She pressed her lips to yours, kissing you deeply, her hands roaming your body.

Daemon watched with a grin, his hand moving to his crotch, squeezing his erection as she kissed down your jaw, moving to your neck and over the swell of your breasts. Her lips leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses on your skin.

Daemon's eyes were fixed on the two of you as Rhaenyra's kisses traveled further down your body, stopping between your legs. You felt her warm breath on your thighs, and you couldn't help but moan softly, feeling her mouth move closer to your aching core.

"Look at me," Daemon commanded.

You turned your head, meeting his gaze, his eyes burning into you as Rhaenyra pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. Her lips traveled up and over your mound, her inexperience was evident, but the young queen was determined to prove herself.

You let out a soft whimper, your hips lifting off the bed, feeling her warm tongue slowly drag up the length of your pussy. She moved her tongue between your lips, tasting the wetness that had pooled there.

Daemon watched with amusement, his eyes darkening as Rhaenyra began to lap and suck. Her mouth was warm and wet, her tongue moving in slow circles. She was doing well, making you squirm with need.

You couldn't stop the moans from escaping your lips, your hands gripping the sheets. Daemon untied his breeches, freeing his erect cock.

It was a beautiful sight, seeing him slowly stroke himself, his gaze never leaving the two of you. To be in the presence of two dragons was an honour, but to be fucked by the two of them was something else entirely.

Daemon moved closer to the two of you, his hand reaching out, caressing the curve of your cheek. He cupped your chin and tilted your head, turning your attention away from his wife and onto him.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue darting into your mouth. His fingers brushed over your nipples, making them harden, his teeth tugging at your lower lip.

Rhaenyra paused, looking up at the two of you kissing, watching as her husband claimed your mouth, his fingers pinching and teasing your breasts. She enjoyed the way you reacted to him, your body quivering beneath them, your hips bucking up towards her.

Daemon slowly pulled away, looking at his wife, and then back at you. His strong hands trailed down your body, his fingers dancing along the curves of your breasts, the swell of your stomach, and the dip of your navel.

Rhaenyra watched his fingers dip inside you, his thumb brushing against your swollen pearl. Your back arched, and you moaned, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

Daemon smiled and began rubbing you, his fingers moving in slow circles. Then he pulled his fingers out and pushed them past Rhaenyras lips. She sucked them clean, her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him.

"Do you like the way she tastes?" Daemon asked, pulling his fingers from her mouth.

"Yes," she replied, a smile tugging at her lips.

He let out an approving little hum, sitting up and looking down at his wife, his cock still in his hand.

"Continue," he told her.

Rhaenyra nodded and returned to her task, her tongue slow and deliberate, licking and sucking, savoring every drop of you. You felt the heat rising inside of you, the warmth spreading through your body.

You reached out and began to stroke Daemon's cock, his head falling back and his eyes closing.

"Good girl," he said, his voice low.

You pumped his cock, feeling the hard, silky flesh between your fingers, precum leaking from the tip. He moved closer and you licked the head, swirling your tongue around the tip. You could taste the saltiness as you slowly took him into your mouth, feeling the weight of him on your tongue.

You bobbed your head up and down, taking him as deep as you could, your eyes never leaving his. His eyes were dark, filled with lust, his pupils blown wide. He moaned and grabbed a handful of your hair, guiding your head up and down, fucking your mouth.

The sound of his grunts and moans filled the air, along with the soft, wet sounds of Rhaenyras mouth. She had begun to suck harder, her fingers joining her tongue, pumping in and out of you.

You moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure through his body, his hips thrusting forward.

"That's it, sweet girl," Daemon murmured, his grip tightening, pulling your hair and forcing you to look up at him. He looked beautiful, his silver hair hanging down, framing his face.

Rhaenyra was moving faster, her tongue and fingers working in tandem, the heat between her thighs intensifying. She pushed you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you came, a muffled moan escaping your lips.

Daemon pulled his cock out of your mouth, smirking as he tapped the tip against your tongue. Then his eyes drifted to his wife, her lips swollen and shining, her cheeks flushed.

He pulled her up and kissed her deeply, tasting the sweetness of your arousal on her lips. He grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, his cock pressing against her stomach.

You watched the two dragons kiss, their tongues sliding against each other, their bodies pressed together. It was a beautiful sight, their silver hair looked as though it was entwined, the moonlight making their skin shine.

Daemon broke the kiss and moved his lips to his wife's neck, sucking and biting, marking her pale skin. She gasped and moaned, her hands pressing into his chest.

You were lying there, your body still trembling from your climax, watching as the queen and king got lost in each other.

You could hear the sounds of their kissing, the soft moans and grunts, the rustling of the sheets. Rhaenyra pushed him back onto the soft bed, trailing kisses over his chest and stomach. Her fingers grazed the scars that covered his chest, the ones she knew all too well.

Daemon watched as his wife took his cock in her mouth, slowly sliding her lips up and down, taking him as deep as she could. He groaned and reached out for you, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you.

Rhaenyra's eyes met yours, her lips curled around her husband's cock. She looked so beautiful, her eyes wide and filled with lust, her mouth stretched and her cheeks flushed.

She slowly pulled her mouth away from him, moving up to straddle him. He gripped her hips, his eyes filled with desire, his lips parted.

He could feel her wetness against his cock, sliding up and down his length, her breasts bouncing slightly as she moved.

"Kneel for you king," he whispered against your lips, gently biting down on your bottom lip.

You pulled back, slightly confused by his request, until he gestured to his face. You blushed furiously as you realized what he wanted. You moved closer, his hands guiding you, helping you straddle his face, facing Rhaenyra.

She smirked, her eyes locked with yours as you both lowered yourselves. The two of you leaned in and shared a messy kiss, tongues slipping past swollen lips.

Daemon's hummed against you, his stubble scratching your thighs and his hands tight on your hips. He always wanted to die a dragon rider's death... But this? This was a glorious way to go.

Rhaenyra's eyes closed, her head resting on your shoulder as she began to move, her hips rocking, his cock hitting that spot deep inside her. Daemon had never felt such pure bliss, the taste of you on his tongue and the feeling of his wife riding him, the sounds of soft moans like a chorus.

The three of you were lost in the heat and the pleasure, the taste and the touch. You could hear the bed creaking, the headboard hitting the wall, the sheets rustling, the sound of lips and skin crashing against one another.

You watched the way your queen rode her husband, her body moving like water, her hips rolling and grinding against his. You reached down to where they were connected, touching her, feeling the wetness of her arousal mixed with the thickness of her husband's cock.

Daemon groaned and held you tighter, his grip on your hips almost bruising, his mouth devouring you.

Rhaenyra leaned in and kissed you, her hands cradling your face, lips crashing together. You could feel your legs beginning to tremble, the pressure of your release building.

"Cum with me," Rhaenyra purred, her forehead pressed to yours.

You nodded, with half lidded eyes, watching Rhaenyra grind her hips faster, her nails scraping down your arms as she held onto you. The pressure inside you became too much and your climax hit you hard. Rhaenyra's moans were loud and breathy, her head thrown back, her pale skin glistening with sweat, her silver hair cascading down her back and the candlelight danced across her skin.

The two of you rode out your highs, gasping and panting. Your fingers intertwined with hers, the smell of sex heavy in the air. Daemon followed soon after, a guttural moan escaping his lips, his cock twitching, his release spilling into his wife.

You slowly climbed off Daemon and collapsed on the bed, the three of you tumbling into a tangle of limbs and sheets.

Rhaenyra snuggled up next to her husband, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. You watched the two of them, a small smile on your lips, the love they had for each other was plain to see. Daemon looked over at you, reaching his arm out and beckoning you to him.

You scooted closer, cuddling up to him, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"This is my favorite one so far," he said softly, kissing your forehead.

Rhaenyra giggled, leaning over him to kiss you, her lips soft and warm. You felt safe and content, lying there with the two dragons, their fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin.

"Shall we keep her?" Rhaenyra asked, looking up at her husband, a lazy smile curling at her lips.

"Indeed, we shall," Daemon replied, his hand moving up and down her arm.

The three of you stayed there for a while, enjoying the closeness, the warmth and comfort of each other's bodies. You could feel your eyes beginning to close, the exhaustion creeping in, the heat from them made you feel sleepy and comfortable.

To be in the presence of not just one dragon, but two, was a great honor. But to be their mistress? Their shared lover? That was the rarest of privileges, one that you would savor for the rest of your days.

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thatnonameuser · 3 months ago

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A Wonderland Of Yanderes

Twisted Wonderland AU - Inspired by @yandere-daydreams

Part 1 Part 2

Imagine…

A world where the behavior of Yanderes is completely acceptable, if not normal.

Where darlings are stalked, kidnapped, and kept by their Yanderes.

Where murder in the name of love can be pushed aside, as a simple accident.

Where it’s common for the Yanderes to learn about how to control their darlings as soon as they’re able.

Not all places in this Twisted Wonderland are equal though.

The Queendom of Roses and the Shaftlands are by far the best places to be if you’re a darling. Darling rights prevent Yandere’s from being horrifically abusive, locking them away from the outside world for good or using too harsh of punishments. Murder is a major no-no, and Yanderes can lose their darlings forever if they’ve committed such a heinous crime. Darlings can even be taken away for lesser crimes, placed in the care of the state far away from their abusive yanderes.

But as we all know, people will find their ways to bend the rules. Manipulation and controlling techniques are common in these zones, often holding the darlings’ children over their heads, or bribing their way out of the law.

On the flipside, the Sunset Savannah and the Coral Sea are some of the worst places to be. While women are treated as equals, darlings are not. They’re considered the prey locked in the jaws of the predators. Whether they slip from the jaws is their own business. Darlings are free to run and hide, but nothing’s stopping their Yanderes from throwing them back over their shoulders back to their lives of captivity. Whether a darling’s punishment is fair or not, as long as they're not dead, Yandere’s do whatever they please. Murder is less bad of a crime here if done in a battle for a darling’s hand.

The Sunset Savannah’s King’s own wife was a darling, and even she can’t get away from his ‘love’ and ‘affection’. Though she never complains, always by her husband’s or child’s side.

Though some Darlings are smart, running off to one of the nation’s that give them more freedoms. Still, if you can’t get them on your own, thanks to those stupid laws, there’s a whole list of Bounty Hunters willing to do it for you. They’re scary good, and your darling will be back before you know it.

The Scalding Sands rests safely in the middle of the spectrum. Darlings carry some rights and freedoms but that’s only in the most horrible of extremes. They’re treated as fragile, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to look after them. They’re traditionally spoiled with riches and wealth, but that’s just to cover up the bruises, both from pleasure and punishments.

Even with the few freedoms of the darlings, the sparkling sand of the desert can be so deceiving. A black market for darling recapture, whether taken legally or runaways. Hitmen who can hide corpses of rivals in the desert.

The Isle of Lamentation is completely separate from the world, but it's full of Yandere’s all the same. So many of the staff are Yandere’s yet almost none have darlings. They’re practically voyeurs watching their darlings from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The Shroud family’s current matriarch was darling from the outside world, and most of the people there are certain that even her living son hasn't seen her since last spring.

The isolation from the world is perfect for hiding away darlings. And they’ll go crazy for any interaction and affection, like a Persphone locked in the Underworld.

If the Sunset Savannah is old-fashioned in its treatment of darlings, then the Briar Valley is practically ancient. The darlings’ lives are completely controlled by their yanderes, kept under lock and key for the remainder of their lives. Darlings rarely leave their homes without their yanderes acting as escorts, with beautiful collars of jewels and precious stones marking them as darlings and the fine, equally ornate leashes in their yanderes’ hands as their ‘owners’. Darlings are considered so fragile, that the outside world is far too dangerous for them, that it’s safer where they’re kept by their yanderes. Murder in the name of a darling is practically excused, as long as it was in the name of protecting their dainty darlings.

On Sage Island the two rival schools are polar opposites.

Royal Sword Academy is honestly full of delusional yanderes, looking for a darling to be their princess to save, their perfect damsels in distress. All they want is to fall in love at first sight with the darling of their dreams. The one who they'll be enchanted with and will sing a love song that will move the hearts of millions with.

They excuse all concerning actions with a simple wave of the hand. They followed you home? They were just looking out for you. They’ve been stalking you? They just want to make sure you’re ok! You caught them over your bed, pink faced, while you were asleep? They probably where just checking to make sure they could wake you up with a kiss, you know the love stories~

Night Raven College is more honest. They know what they are and they’re not hiding it. Since NRC’s full of different students, the crimes that were once illegal in their hometowns, are completely fine here. As long as you don’t get caught. Then you might have detention while we figure out how to make it look like an accident.

Classes about proper Darling care and how to get away with other crimes are mandatory for first years, but after that it becomes an elective. Potion Classes teach how to make the best love potions, tranquilisers and the deadliest of poisons that kill without a trace. Animal Language to communicate with the local fauna if your darling runs away into the woods, and you can’t find them. Phys Ed to carry your darling away whether they're unconscious or kicking and screaming with ease.

But what about you? What does that mean for poor, little you? Lost in a world you barely know anything about. And worst yet, you’re a darling. Try your best to get back home……

…..If they let you that is.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland

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solarrsims · 1 year ago

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greek mythology legacy challenge

hi loves. i’ve spent so much time trying to find a legacy challenge that interests me, and i stumbled upon this one on the forums. however, i decided to put my own spin on this theme, and create my own goals and rules. use the hashtag #greek mythology legacy so i can see your gameplays!!

also, feel free to bend the rules to your liking. if you don’t have a pack i mention, you can bend that rule, or you do have a pack that i don’t have that you think would fit, you can add that in however you’d like.

gens/rules down below or in this doc

edits because of @nom-de-plumbob her ideas were so much better than my og ones!

overall rules:

- you may only use free real estate cheats when you first start

- you can only move onto the next generation when you’ve completed all of the goals

- i recommend setting your life span to normal or long

- you can use any gender for any generation!

- you don’t have to actually name them the god’s name if you don’t want to. be creative!

- try to use their assigned colors in some way (clothes, hair, skin, house, etc!)

GENERATION ONE: ZEUS

god of the sky, king of the gods - white

you have had a rough childhood. your father was abusive towards you and your mother, which resulted in your mother taking you and fleeing town. the two of you settled down the snowy mountains in mt. komebri. she became very over protective of you, rarely letting you out and about in case your father ever found you.

traits: non-committal, ambitious, charismatic

aspiration: successful lineage

career: politician (politician branch)

goals:

have a weather machine

max out career

marry and have two biological kids with partner

have many affairs

have 3 other kids with different partners

live in mt. komebri

GENERATION TWO: POSIEDON

god of water, the ocean - blue

you grew up in a very competitive household. your father was a well-known and very competitive politician whom had many different affairs. you eventually grew restless of the competitive life and decided to move for a simpler life—sulani.

traits: child of the ocean, loves outdoors, erratic

aspiration: beach life

career: marine biologist

goals:

move to sulani when turn young adult

become a mermaid

discover rare underwater treasures

try to keep sulani clean

advocate for marine conservation

marry someone you meet on the island

have at least one kid with partner

GENERATION THREE: HERA

goddess of marriage, women - purple

this sim grew up living a very calm and collected life by the beach. as a child, they loved watching movies and love, which grew into a passion for acting. so, you fled the beachy town and went to del sol valley to achieve your dreams.

traits: ambitious, romantic, jealous

aspiration: world-renowned actor

career: actor

goals:

become a famous actor

marry a celebrity

get jealous and become a controlling spouse

live in del sol valley

have more than one kid

you should favor your other children over the youngest, whom will be the next heir

GENERATION FOUR: HADES

god of the underworld - black

you’ve always despised their mother as a child. your mother favored your sibling(s) your whole life, and always saw you as a disappointment and not being able to live up to your older siblings. because of this, you decided to go on your own, and live up to being a criminal.

traits: loner, materialistic, gloomy

aspiration: criminal mastermind

career: criminal

goals:

max out aspiration

reach level 10 in mischief skill

become enemies with 5 people

have only one child, and don’t be close with them

GENERATION FIVE: ARES

god of war - red

this sim grew up in a rocky household. you’ve always had a strong sense of patriotism and bravery, and you’ve always dreamt of going into the military. despite not wanting to follow in your father’s footsteps, you still have.

traits: athletic, hot-headed, ambitious

aspirations: athlete

career: military (officer branch)

goals:

achieve level 10 in the fitness skill.

start at least 5 fights with different sims

reach level 10 in the officer branch

have at least 2 children

GENERATION SIX: ATHENA

the goddess of wisdom - silver

you grew up in a very competitive household. you were definitely the outcast child, as you prefer to read books or play chess instead of working out. you move out when you become a young adult with little funds.

traits: genius, bookworm, perfectionist

aspiration: nerd brain

career: scientist

goals:

achieve level 10 in three different skills.

complete the nerd brain aspiration.

reach level 10 of scientist career

eventually travel to alien world with wormhole generator

if you have discover university: get physics degree

GENERATION SEVEN: APOLLO

the god of sun, light - orange

you grew up in a very close and loving family. growing up in an environment that fostered creativity and intellect, your mother always encouraged you with your talent: music. your mother’s guidance not only nurtured your musical talent but also instilled a thrust of knowledge and an understanding of music.

traits: art lover, outgoing, music lover

aspiration: musical genius

career: entertainer (singer or musician)

goals:

start playing instruments as a kid

listen to music often as a toddler

achieve level 10 in the singing/one instrument, and level 5 in the other instruments

complete musical genius aspiration

play on the street or at bars for money

if you have discover university: get the fine arts degree

become a famous singer or musician by writing songs and licensing them

marry someone who has the music lover or art lover trait

GENERATION EIGHT APHRODITE

the goddess of beauty, love - pink

from a young age, you found yourself entangled in the intricate dance of romance, captivated by the myriad emotions that love invoked. however, your journey was not without heartbreak. you, in pursuit of love’s beauty, experienced the shattering pain of a broken heart multiple times. yet, with each fracture, you discovered an unparalleled strength to mend.

traits: romantic, high maintenance, party animal

aspiration: serial romantic

career: fashion influencer (stylist branch) or social media influencer (internet personality)

goals:

have at least 10 romantic relationships in your life, starting as a teen

reach level 10 in charisma

as a teen, get the party animal trait

go to parties often as a teen/university student

reach level 10 in either career branch

achieve serial romantic aspiration

have children only from one night stands or blind dates

GENERATION NINE: HERMES

god of trade, travel - brown

your mother never really paid much attention to you and your siblings growing up. you lacked the guidance you needed, leaving you and your siblings to fend for themselves. your nasty habit of kleptomania started as a teen, from stealing your mom’s stuff to stealing items from public places.

traits: active, kleptomaniac, you pick

aspiration: friend of the world

career: astronaut (interstellar smuggler branch)

goals:

live in at least 5 different worlds throughout your life once you become a young adult

reach level 10 of astronaut career (interstellar smuggler branch)

attempt to swipe at least one item per day (or every other day)

befriend at least 15 sims from various ages

marry a co-worker

have only one child

GENERATION TEN: ARTEMIS

goddess of hunt - yellow

your days as a child were spent in the outdoors whilst your parents worked, and you have lived in multiple different towns. once you moved out, you decided to built a house on an empty lot with a small farm. your farm began to flourish, and you hound solace in the tranquil landscapes, surrounded by your family and your animal companions.

traits: loner, family-oriented, animal enthusiast

aspiration: friend of the animals

career: veterinarian

goals:

own your own vet clinic

as a child, befriend at least 5 animal

have at least 3 pets!

achieve level 10 in the dog training

you may never marry. either adopt or have a science baby only once.

OPTIONAL GENERATIONS: TBF

GENERATION ELEVEN: HESTIA

GENERATION TWELVE: DEMETER

#sims 4 legacy #sims4legacy #sims 4 cc #ts4 simblr #ts4 #greek mythology #greek gods #sims 4 challenge #sims 4 legacy challenge #ts4challengehub #greek mythology legacy

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soleilapproves · 14 days ago

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The Demon King's Bride - chapter 1

Synopsis: Sukuna Ryomen is reborn as a human being as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm. To lift his curse and return to his original form, the former demon king must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities. Except it can only be done by having a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.

fanfic masterlist / main masterlist

prologue < > chapter 2

There wasn’t a day where Sukuna didn’t miss his old form. His extra set of eyes helped him see dust particles in the tiniest of corners, his multiple hands helped him fight the strongest of spirits, and his inhumane demonic strength had everyone fearing him: every human, divine being, and spirit.

Mothers in the mortal realm often told their children to sleep early if they didn’t want to be taken away by the King of all demons–Sukuna Ryomen. His fearful reputation takes its stake even in the smallest of villages. People often left offerings at his statue in a misty valley to please his immortal soul and protect themselves from the demons he ruled over. His stark tattoos signify his position in the Divine Realm, the controller of chaos and death.

Alas, but that was no more. It had been hundreds of years since people had uttered his name. Apparently, receiving Divine Punishment and being reborn as a human being meant being wiped from the minds of all humans. His statue simply collected dust. Wearing away till his stony face weathered into a smooth curve. No remnants of his terrifying mug. Only an outline of what once was the demon’s face.

Sukuna stared down at the pool of water reflecting his human form–two swelling muscular arms, a single pair of eyes, no mask to hide half his face, and his cursed tattoos. His figure was worse in the past. All bones and no muscle to cushion them. Not enough blood to bring color to his face. He had to train rigorously to be as strong as he is now.

Most humans would assume the man was the closest thing to a humanoid behemoth. But what he looks like now isn’t even a fraction of his former figure–humongous, horrifying, and unnerving. A true demon king.

“Master, I have your coin pouch ready, and the bodyguards have been stationed outside the estate. We will take our leave as soon as you are dressed.” Sukuna hadn’t realized when Uraume, his servant, entered his private onsen. A disadvantage of having human ears was that you weren’t sensitive to the smallest of vibrations made against the ground. Sukuna clicked his teeth from snarling.

“I have your robes placed in the dressing room.” Uraume shuffled back outside. Sukuna knew it was time to go when he began to shiver–another thing he never had to worry about in the Divine Realm. He had never felt more pathetic when he had to succumb to stupid human sensations, such as his nipples hardening when he was cold, eyes squinting when too much light passed through his corneas, or when his muscles ached after training too hard. It was humiliating, and it was all a part of his punishment.

The worst part of it all was when he’d feel overstimulated, which was quite often. Too many sounds, textures, and sights. He'd try to steer clear of markets, brothels, festivals, and restaurants, but Uraume would push him to go to those places to find the other half of that cursed pearl—his only hope for redemption. Today was yet another day where he’d have to go to the local market to buy gifts for the many women he would meet at a brothel that just opened in the next town over. The most beautiful women had been collected all over the nation to please the abhorrent sexual needs of men. Hopefully, one of them would have the other half of his pearl.

The market was surprisingly pleasant to walk through despite the chill of the winter air. Uraume and Sukuna’s bodyguards followed close behind him as he looked at all the jewelry stalls. Ornamental hand fans with pink sakura were all the rage, even during the barren season.

“Here, sir, I’m sure a very special woman in your life will want this,” the old lady across the table said to him with a bright smile, a single front tooth missing. The crow's feet beside her eyes and the multiple scars on her fingers told him she had been doing this for years. He’d met her when she was only a child, stitching together pieces of cloth and paper in the back of her father’s woodworking shop. A constant and dull life. If he wanted, he could make her as rich as a moneylender. His prosperous yet boring life as a human itched him to do good for her.

But he bit his lip, hands tightening around his money pouch. He had a lot of questions, but the one that stood out to him the most after being reborn was if humans were innately driven to do good and if that habit would follow him once he’d returned to the Divine Realm. He often found himself trying to reason between his demonic and human sides.

All he could do, for now, was pay a little more than she had told him to. She could probably buy fish and make warm soup for herself on this winter day. He pulled out the red pouch from a small pocket in his robes. But as soon as his eyes landed on his palm to fish out the coins, the pouch had long disappeared, leaving only a wisp of wind behind.

“There, follow her!” A brawny bodyguard yelled from behind Sukuna. The band of three men ran towards the thief. Sukuna was often stolen from in bigger cities but not in the town he had been living in for the past three hundred years. He usually stood back and waited for his men to bring back the thief so he could humiliate them in public, but something in him was telling him to follow the thief.

A ‘gut feeling’ as the humans called it. Sukuna turned to return the fan to the shopkeeper, but she pushed it back to him. “I know you will pay me later. Go and get your money pouch. I’m here every day at the same time.” He ignored her ominous smile and swiftly ran after the group, fan folded in hand—a stark contrast of pink against his black robes.

The thief was relatively fast on her feet, jumping over a cart full of clay pots and rolling down the hill towards the forest on the outskirts of the town. Sukuna’s bodyguards followed suit, albeit in a tumbling mess, but enough to get ahold of her in the forest. They pulled the coin pouch out of her grasp and kicked her legs, prompting her to get down on the snow on her knees. One guard grabbed her left arm while another grabbed the right one. The third man had a sword held by her neck.

Sukuna coolly arrived at the scene, his hat now covering his face to prevent the daytime brightness of the snow from blinding him. The thief was a mess. She wore dirty clothing that looked so brown that it was impossible to tell that it used to be red if it wasn’t for small, clean patches by her collar and sleeves (she probably drank from a stream nearby). Her face was decorated with several minor cuts because she was rolling down the hill, and her hair was a matted mess, with twigs and dirt sticking out.

“You dare steal from me?” Sukuna’s voice boomed through the forest as he walked closer to the thief on the ground. The snow cushioned everything so only Sukuna’s voice could be heard, suffocating her with his presence.

“Rich folk can always pull that money out of their asses. A few lost coins will not harm you,” she spat as she looked away from the man she stole from. His eyes were trained on her as he finally stood before her.

“Stolen, not lost. I should rip your tongue out for being so crass with me.” With quiet anger evident in his voice, he dragged the fan from her temple to her chin. The path was painfully short, for her face was so small because of malnourishment. He could see her shiver, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the cold or his indirect touch. Considering how thin her clothes looked, it was probably the former.

He pulled her chin to face him and tilted her head upwards with the fan. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, street vermin.” Her eyes were closed. “Slice my tongue. I do not wish to speak to you because I have nothing to lose by being rude to yet another rich man,” Sukuna was, of course, never planning on ripping the woman’s tongue out, but she was slowly persuading him to do so.

“Look at me in the eye as you make your request, you wench.” His red eyes bore into her lidded ones. “He said to open ‘em up!” The guard holding the sword snarled. She gulped before looking up at the former demon, beautiful orbs glaring at him. “You happy now?”

But Sukuna couldn’t say anything. The man was cotton-mouthed. Staring back at him was a greenish-blue hue twinkling over her actual eye color. It looked like magic. Surely, no human was unique enough to have mesmerizing eyes enough to put the most beautiful of angels and spirits to shame. He had bedded many women in the centuries he’d been alive, but none of them had eyes as alluring as hers. “Megumi, look into her eyes–what color are they?”

The guard holding her right arm looked down into her eyes and replied with her normal eye color, completely missing the apparent turquoise hue visible to Sukuna.

“I have found her,” he whispered to himself. “Three hundred years and she’s finally in front of me,” he yelled as he took his hat off and threw it on the ground. He rubbed his hands on his face and looked back at her again, and sure enough, the hues in her eyes were still there. “I should’ve known that you were a lunatic when you pulled out a whole pouch instead of a few coins in a busy street,” the confused woman mumbled as she watched Sukuna laugh to himself.

“I am not letting you go. Oh no, you will come to my estate,” He laughed to himself like a madman. “Three hundred years, and now I am finally going to be free.”

“Look, you can have your pouch back. I’ll even give you all the money I have on me right now. Just don’t take me home with you,” the woman begged, but the guards only held on to her tighter.

“Not a chance. Now, come on, we have a wedding to attend.”

Confused, the woman raised her brow. “Whose?”

“Ours.”

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inuiiwonderland · 1 month ago

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Tragedy

The king sends troops after a mysterious women. After her lover was brutally killed by the king, the women had to flee before her and her newborn son were next.

Words: 1.1k

It was dark and cold. The weather was horrible as rain poured down from the sky at a rapid pace. You were cold and scared as you continued running. Not even daring to stop in fear that they will manage to catch up to you.

You looked down at the small bundle in your arms. You made sure you had the softest and warmest of blankets before leaving that hell hole. You peek into the small little breathing hole, and for a second you feel at peace until you hear the screaming of horses and men which quickly brings you back to reality.

You quickly picked up the pace as you looked behind you to see them in the distance. Torches and swords in hand as they approached rather quickly.

You gasped and quickly looked away. Tears clouding your vision as you try to get away as far as possible. You ran through the woods and clutched the bundle in your arms tighter. You felt relief wash over you as you saw the river up ahead.

“Make sure she doesn’t get away! The king wants both her and that bastard of a child alive!”

Your heart drops as you hear those faint words.

You quickly pulled out the basket that you had on you. Your heart was racing against your chest as you gently laid down the small thing in the basket. The small thing coos as you gently caressed his face.

“Shhh…there my son. You’ll be safer somewhere out there than here. I’ll pray that the river takes you somewhere safe, in a place where you’ll be safe and strong. I love you” And with a heavy heart, you push the basket onto the river and watch as the currents take the basket away.

The sound of the horses and men grew louder as you got up. You looked at the river one last time before whispering.

“Be safe…”

“Silver”

Tonight was the biggest storm that Briar Valley has ever seen in its entire history. The wind was strong, rain was pouring down like a hell storm, it was the biggest storm anyone has ever seen.

The young prince looked out his bedroom window with a frown. It’s been a while since his guardian Lilia has left the palace doors, and with the horrible weather conditions happening outside, the young prince can’t help but worry.

“My dear prince, what happens to trouble you?” One of the palace butlers asks as he watches the prince look out the window.

“Do you think Lilia is okay?” The butler was surprised by this question. But quickly responded back.

“Why of course he’s okay. Lilia is a former war general who led all of our troops to victory.” This still didn’t seem to please the young prince. He continued to look out the window and the butler knew what he said didn’t seem to calm the prince as he saw and heard a loud thunder from outside.

Rain was pouring hard as Lilia made his way back to the palace. It’s been hours since he left malleus alone in the palace and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for making him wait for that long.

He flinches as he hears a loud roar of thunder come from the path to the palace.

“He’s definitely not…happy” Lilia prepares himself for the dozens of questions the young prince will throw at him once he steps foot inside the palace.

As he continues his journey back to the palace. Lilia hears small wails coming from deep into the woods. He ignores it at first, but the weeps grow louder as the rain pours and the wind blows. He stops his horse immediately and stays silent for a moment.

A cry

He hears the small cries coming from the woods. He was skeptical at first, maybe a trick from some nearby bandits but something in his gut tells him to not ignore it.

“Huh?”

Follow the cries

Of the unfortunate

And after a long pause. Lilia goes to the direction of where the cries were coming from. He followed the cries like his life depended on it. The voice in his head getting louder and louder the more closer he was getting to where the cries were coming from.

Don’t leave him

The cries

Death

And as if he can finally breathe, Lilia finally made it to where the loud cries came from. There, floating near a log was a basket. Lilia hops off his horse as he slowly walks towards the small basket. Cries grow louder by the second and once he was knee deep into the water he opens the basket to see a small bundle of blankets.

But what catches his attention the most is what’s hidden inside the blankets.

There lay a small human child. Crying his poor eyes out as he sneezes.

Lilia stands there alarmed. Eyes wide as the child slowly opens its eyes. Teary violet iris staring back at him.

“What in the seven's name…” For the first time in centuries Lilia was speechless. He was hesitant. He didn’t know what to do.

I mean it’s a child for crying out loud! A human child nonetheless all alone in a basket floating in the river!

He stares at the child before closing the basket. He turns around and leaves the water. He gets on his horse and gets ready to leave. But something stops him before he can leave. Something tells him that he can’t.

He stares at the sky. His heart beating fast against his chest.

Don’t go

Don’t leave me

A loud cry interrupts his thoughts. He looks towards the direction of the basket and sees the waters growing a bit strong. The basket then soon starts floating away and before Lilia could think straight he jumps off his horse and to the river.

He begins to chase after the basket. Heart beating even faster as he sees the basket grow farther and farther away. With a loud grunt he goes deeper and deeper into the water and reaches his hand out to grab ahold of the tiny basket.

Don’t let go

Don’t let go father

And when he thinks he can’t make it on time. Basket out of reach. By some miracle he manages to grab ahold of the damn thing. He gasps and quickly brings it towards his chest.

It wasn’t long until he was finally able to get out of the water, thanks to his horse who pulled him out.

Lilia still holds the basket in a tight grip.

“C’mon, malleus is probably worried sick” He gets on his horse. Basket close against his chest as the tiny child inside sleeps soundly.

Be safe silver

Ermmm….its been a while☺️ it’s ass at the moment because I haven’t written anything in MONTHS!

#inuiiwonderland🤍#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #disney twst #twst x reader #twst angst #twisted wonderland malleus #twst imagines #twisted wonderland angst #twst diasomnia #angst

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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

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The Last Dragon Slayer Part 1

Hello! I know everyone was hoping to see more Himbo Witch today, but I wanted to also get this story out so you can enjoy this one too!

Summary: Fifty years ago, dragons who had once been scarce had suddenly taken over nearly every mountain, vale, valley, and cove. Humans, frightened of their new neighbors fashioned and trained dragon slayers to rid themselves of the beasts. Sir Steffan, once a prince, is the last of these slayers. He roams the land looking for the dragon that killed his mother on the day of his birth. He's starved, cold, and homeless when he gets the call from King Richard to rid the king of the black dragon Edgewraith.

Fifty years prior to the start of our story, dragons became more prevalent they had had in the many centuries prior. No one was sure what caused it; population boom, force migration, them choosing to come out of their caves as it were. Whatever the reason, the dragons kept their secrets.

But soon there wasn’t a mountain, valley, vale, or fen that didn’t house one of the great beasts. They could be found on every terrain and in every color conceivable. Black, red, gold, silver, diamond, sapphire, you name it and there was a dragon in that color. Some of them came in multiple colors, prism, tri-colors, and dual colors.

But like humans came in different strips of good, evil, and everything in between.

That is where the dragon slayers arose from. Men and women trained in the ways to kill creatures that flew, breathed fire, with large teeth, longer claws, and tough scales. They learned how combat all of them. Their secrets were as dark and as deep as the dragons themselves.

Twenty years prior to our story, Steffan of Harring’s Town was born to King Dylan and Queen Mairwen. Shortly after his birth a dragon tore through the castle killing and eating the midwife and the queen.

King Dylan was so overcome with grief and pain, gave his newborn son over to the first slayer he saw passing through his town. A man by the name Iago. He was a gruff man, worn down from many battles and living on the road.

But he took care of young Steffan, treated him like he would his own, trained him in the way of dragon slaying. Told him the story of his mother’s death over and over to drive home the fact that not all dragons are good and that it was their job to take out the ones who weren’t.

Then as things usually do, dragon slaying fell out of favor as the evil dragons were killed off, forced to leave or go into deep hiding the need for these slayers waned. Iago retired and tried to convince Steffan to do so as well, but Steffan burned with the desire to slay the beast that killed his mother.

And now we begin our tale.

King Richard had a problem. A large black dragon with red underscales, eyes, and claws had settled in the nearby mountain range and began to demand tribute in the form of three sheep a month and no one was allowed up to the mountain. They were to tie the sheep down at the base of the mountain and leave.

This angered King Richard. Yes, his kingdom was known for its sheep, numbering the hundreds, but those were his sheep and he wasn’t going to give so much as one sheep to the slobbering beast.

So he searched around, looking for a dragon slayer. Someone who could take this beast out and return his realm to the glory it was before the dragon filled the air with dark fire. But wherever he looked, he could not find a single dragon slayer. They were all dead or retired to live out their days with their remaining limbs.

All but one.

Sir Steffan of Harington’s Town having been knighted but some poor lord who castle had been sat upon by golden hide dragon with diamonds for eyes and claws. Half the town had been charred and smoking by the time the battle had ended, but most of the town folk had survived and they could rebuild.

So King Richard sent for this last dragon slayer. The last vestige of a dying breed. Once Sir Steffan has sloughed off this mortal coil, there would be no more. But King Richard didn’t care, he wanted the pest gone.

He almost turned the sullen creature away when it came knocking on the castle wall. Sir Steffan, no doubt once of a proud countenance and lithe body was now given away to rough life on the road and most certainly starvation. His eyes were sunken with dehydration and agony. His frame barely held up his armor. And his horse was in worst shape then he was.

King Richard wasn’t sure how the animal held up Sir Steffan’s weight sans armor let alone with. But he brought the knight in, gave him food, wine, a bath, and a place to stay the night. All night the king had his bards sing tales of the monstrous beast who demanded tribute of young maidens and fattened calves.

Sir Steffan nodded. Such was the way with these things. Oh not the dragon. He had already spoken to the townsfolk and they talked about the three sheep a month and the desire to be left alone. No, this was all about the greedy kings and lords wanting him to take out good dragons to steal their hoards.

He would take their payment and ride out of town, never to be seen again, leaving the bastards to tell their people why the coffers were drained to deal with a benevolent creature. But even those were becoming rare these days. And with him being the last dragon slayer, he would be all too easy to find.

So he drank the wine, ate the food, and slept in a warm bed for the first time in ages after having taken a bath in something that wasn’t bracken with sludge. He took his fee and stumbled his way to the top of the mountain.

“Edgewraith!” Sir Steffan called. “I name thee! Come out and face me, beast!” He banged on his shield with his sword a few times to make himself as loud as possible.

The creature that came out was exquisite. His body was long and lean with black glittering scales on top and blood red rubies adorned his underside from the top of his long neck all the way to the tip of his bespiked tail. His head had two horns that curled like that of a ram’s and his claws gleamed red as well. His crimson eyes flickered with anger as he breached the cave opening.

"How desperate King Richard must be," Edgewraith hissed, smoke and spark spilling from his mouth, “to send me you."

Sir Steffan threw his sword and shield to the ground and ripped off his helmet. “I am the last of my kind. Kill me and your kind will never be bothered again. All I ask is that you make it swift. I cannot ask for painless, I do not deserve such boon. Just post my head at the bottom of your mountain, great one, telling all those that dare oppose you that there are no more dragon slayers!”

Edgewraith opened his mouth to laugh at such a request when the knight promptly fainted. The dragon tilted his head to the side and gently scooped the fallen man up between his deadly claws.

Sir Steffan was alive, but barely breathing, so Edgewraith picked away at the armor, flinging the piece over his shoulder. The man looked worse out of the armor, because at least in the armor he had mass. The knight was barely a twig, his clothes hanging off of him as if they once fit, but too little food wasted the man to nothing.

All it would take was a flick of one of claws and Sir Steffan’s head would pop off like a cork on the bottle of wine. It would be done. The last dragon slayer would be dead.

But looking at the pitiful creature in his hand, Edgewraith couldn’t do it. There would be no honor, no joy in killing this man. So with a heavy sigh and cradling the knight close to his body, the dragon slipped back into the cave.

Steffan floated in and out of consciousness, barely long enough to drink and eat. Every night his bedding was changed and slowly he began to be aware of his surroundings. He was a much smaller cave then the entrance suggested. He had piles of silken blankets over him and he was propped up on many soft downy pillows.

He struggled to sit up when the most beautiful man came hurrying through the entrance. He had long wild curls that reached right above his collar bone. An angular face that was softened by the dimples in both of his cheeks. He was slender, but Steffancould tell that real strength was in his bones. His deep brown eyes almost seemed to glow red in the low light of the torches.

“Don’t sit up!” the man called, rushing to his side. “You’re not strong enough for that yet.”

Steffan looked up him with utter awe. “Is this heaven? You are far too beautiful to be of Hell.”

“You can’t be very old,” the man said with a hint of amusement coloring his tone, “if you think there aren’t some pretty vile people in the world that have all the looks and manners.”

Steffan blushed and ducked his head. “I am young to be fair, only twenty and you’re right I was being naive. So am I in Hell then? Does Hell truly hold such beauties?”

“I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell,” the man huffed, handing Steffan the bowl of soup and a spoon, “so it can’t be either. You live though the world believes you to be otherwise.”

Steffan took the soup and began eating. Then he was shoveling it in his mouth. It was so good. It had dumplings and mutton and even a few vegetables. He was almost done when he realized what the man said. “What do you mean? Do people think me dead?”

The man blushed and cleared his throat. “The dragon, Edgewraith has the ability to glamour things to look different. There was a skeleton from before he set up residence that he used to make it look like your head; had me paint the pretty sign that said the last dragon slayer was dead and word has already spread to the neighboring kingdoms.”

“Thank God!” Steffancried and began to sob.

The man got up on the bed and sat down next to him. He placed his hand on Steve’s knee and waited for the crying to slacken.

“Why are you so relieved to be dead?” the man asked gently.

Steffan explained that all throughout his childhood he was told that he was meant to slay the dragon that murdered his mother. That he had no other purpose in life. But at aged twenty, not having another skills that would make him useful for those lean times between bounties had left him broken and wishing for death.

“Do you wish a new name?” the man asked. “You can have any of them for your choosing.” He waved his arm to indicate the vastness of his choices.

But he shook his head. “Steffan is a common enough name that no one would connect Steffan the commoner and Sir Steffan the Dragon Slayer.”

“Fair enough, Steffan,” he said with a gentle smile, “I am Edwin. The dragon Edgewraith has gone hunting and won’t be back until night fall.”

“Edgewraith and Edwin,” Steffan said fondly, “my rescuers. You have my deepest gratitude and once I am better, I will be on my way.”

Edwin blushed. “You don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to. Edgewraith won’t hurt you and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“If the rest of your cooking skills are anything like this stew,” Steffan said with a smile, “you’ll be hard pressed to get rid of me. I’ve eaten in some of the largest banquet halls of this country and let me tell you, they have nothing compared to this stew.”

Edwin didn’t think he could turn redder, but alas, he was proven wrong with that little complement. “Thank you. It’s not much only what the dragon can hunt and what I can trade in the village. But now that the Dragon Slayer is dead, we’ll be getting a supply of sheep each month which should help with the food situation.”

“Greedy men,” Steffan said sadly shaking his head. “I will never understand them in all my years why they just couldn’t give up what? Three dozen sheep a year? That’s nothing compared to the vast flocks I saw riding up to the castle.”

“Total.”

Steffan cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Edwin chuckled. “The dragon doesn’t eat all three of them in a month. Even for a beast of his size, that is a lot of meat to get through. No, he eats only one a month and the other twenty-four will be the basis for a new flock. That he will tend to himself so as to not bother the towns people for much of anything.”

“Three sheep a month for only an entire year?” Steffan blinked his surprise away. “I knew King Richard was an idiot but good God, that really takes the cake.”

Edwin smiled. “That he is.”

“What will he do now?” Steffan asked, picking at a loose thread on one of the blankets. “Now that there are no slayers to take care of his dragon problem.”

Edwin held up one finger and then left with Steffan’s empty bowl. A minute or so later, Steffan heard a tentative bleating.

Sure enough, Edwin came with a beautiful black sheep. “They have decided their best option would be to give me their black sheep.”

Steffan threw back his head and laughed for the first time in literal years.

Tag List: TEN SLOTS REMAINING

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5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

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8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #dragon slayer au #dragon slayer steve #dragon eddie

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jester-lover · 1 year ago

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if it’s not too much trouble can i please request savannaclaw, octavinelle, and diaspmnia with a starfire-like reader?

-much love,

anon

Hi anon! This was an amazing request, as I personally love dc comics, but I did take the liberty of shortening the post down to the dorm leaders, I hope this is okay!

Feat/ Leona, Azul, Malleus

CWs/ fluff, fem! Reader, I used og comic version and the teen titans cartoon version as reference

Leona

A significant other who embodies Starfire-like traits would be absolutely perfect for Leona. Most of the traits that embody Starfire—this deep loyalty, strength, and kindness—are, in his opinion, all ideal for a significant other.

Leona would probably overdo it in terms of wooing you, probably because your sheer radiance kind of scares him. (But the second you two are together, he’s going to brag about you any chance he gets.)

Leona would be wrapped around your little finger, but never admit it. Anything you want, you get.

One of the other traits you possess is a deep affection for your loved ones, something that Leona is put off by at first but learns to love over time.

Your energy clashes with his general laziness, but when it comes to Spelldrive, he would love practicing with you.

“How do you not tire yourself out, flying around everywhere..?”

Azul

Do y'all know the Jessica and Roger Rabbit trope?

He is so surprised when an objectively attractive, strong, and cheerful goddess-like girl such as yourself is asking him out.

Azul’s ego is flying.

Canonically, Starfire is over 6 feet tall; if height is a trait you also possess, he’ll be really happy. I hc Azul as a tall woman appreciator, partially because he likes seeing you peer over other people.

(And mostly because he likes powerful women.)

Azul is also fond of your fire abilities; he thinks they complement his well. He finds the green shade of those flames really beautiful.

“Dearest, could you please reach that book at the top shelf for me?”

Malleus

You two are literally designed for one another. We know that despite his stoic personality, he holds an affectionate fascination for certain things, like gargoyles or simple technology. I think this would greatly complement a Starfire-like girl.

This similarity in personality is made even bolder by the fact that both of you use green fire, a trait that earns you his praise.

The two of you honestly just have such a deep adoration for each other; the similarities of your gentle yet stern mannerisms, along with your royal statuses, make you an ideal co-ruler as well as an ideal partner for the future King of Briar Valley.

Malleus loves the gentleness and positivity of your personality and how sweetly you act toward not only him but his dear retainers as well.

He finds the fact that the sun is the source of your power to be a gorgeous contrast to him, a leader of nocturnal fae. Your own beauty both contrasts and highlights his.

“How does your light shine so brightly?”

#reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst #female reader #fem!reader #twst malleus #twst azul #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

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makethatelevenrings · 7 months ago

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Royalty AU - Simon Riley x f!reader

A/N: 9,335 words (20 pages) all in one sitting. I'm unwell. My mother became increasingly concerned as I didn't move from one spot. This is unedited. I'm sorry but I'm not.

Warnings: period(?) typical misogyny, allusions to sexual assault/rape (reader thinks she will be forced to perform her marital duties), illness, fever, violence, light smut so 18+, Simon being emotionally constipated, pregnancy (at the end)

This is part of my 5k Follower Celebration! Check it out to see if any prompts are still open to claim!

The first time you met your husband was your wedding day.

Crowds of people lined the dirt roads as the carriage lurched across the hills and valleys. Their faces peered carefully into the windows in an attempt to see past the velveteen curtains that obscured you from view. Your dress was a heavy combination of silk and a golden brocade that clung to your skin. The veils of your unmarried status hung around your face, giving the appearance that your face was something precious to behold.

Beside you, mother sat silently. Father was in the carriage ahead of you so he could escort you out once the time came. This was supposed to be a happy day, a blessed day, but all you could feel was dread as the wheels crept closer to the looming castle at the center of the village. Hushed whispers permeated the air and you couldn’t tell if the townspeople were looking at you in pity, anger, or disgust. Who were you? Some princess who was now going to be their queen despite never having stepped foot on their land.

You shut your eyes against the shame that burned at your cheeks. You didn’t open them until the carriage stopped.

“Let’s go,” Father said gruffly. He stood at the door of the carriage with his hand extended. Your mother exited first and then you did, only to be greeted by more hushed whispers and judgmental stares. You sucked in a deep breath and straightened your shoulders, raising your head to focus solely on the doors before you. One step. Two steps. You let the mantra guide you through the hall, past the people seated on the sides of the aisle, and to the raised dais before everyone and the gods.

Your betrothed stood on the opposite side of you. King Riley was as big as a mountain, a maid whispered to you as they dressed you that morning. His cruelty knew no bounds, another said. He killed without mercy on the battlefield. He was violent and vicious. No one had ever seen his face. He was incapable of loving anything but blood. His people were the same. Violent and rude, unrefined and uncivilized. Children left feral in the streets. Men and women who wrought vengeance for the smallest infractions. A kingdom ruled by fear and bloodlust.

When the rider came to the gates of your town with a treaty and alliance written out with the stipulation that the princess would marry King Simon Riley, you knew that you would have to accept. Your people were starving from the famine in your lands. Your parents had raised you for this.

Stepping onto the dais, your hand left your fathers and instead slipped into the larger, gloved palm of the king. Your head raised and you could see through the veils that he truly did wear a mask, something awful with a skull painted across the front of it. He couldn’t have gone without it for his wedding? You averted your gaze and instead focused on the priest. The words reverberated through your ears, but you hardly paid attention to the vows. You knew when to say the right words and how to say it.

And then the priest was announcing your marriage finalized and those gloved hands released yours to lift the edge of your veils. The lower half of his mask was raised to reveal his lips and the kiss was short, perfunctory, and colder than ice. Perhaps your maids were right, you thought to yourself. Fear gripped your heart for the rest of the night. Through the reception, the dances, and the dinner, you waited for this hulking mass of a man to take you to his bedchambers and force you to do your duty.

But he never did.

King Riley, your husband, merely sat back in his chair and watched the dancing couples on the floor. He occasionally spoke to the men seated beside him, but he never once glanced your way. When a maid approached you to take you to your new room, you glanced back at him, but he didn’t spare you a glance. She undressed you without saying a word, so unlike your friend and compatriot Lucy who had accompanied you but was probably packing the carriage for the return home. You would be all alone in this foreign place with no friends, no allies.

The maid left you in your thin nightgown and you sat in the big, empty bed and waited for your husband to come so you could perform your marriage duties.

The door lay untouched. As did you.

When the fire began to dim in its hearth and you realized that he wasn’t coming, you pressed your face into the soft, goose down pillow below your head, and wept, both in relief and out of despair. This was your life now.

The next morning, you awoke to someone gently touching your shoulder. Turning, you expected to see the same stone-faced maid from last night but was surprised to find Lucy standing over you.

“The king asked your father last night if he could retain me on his staff,” she explained. Hope filled your heart at the realization that you weren’t truly alone. One of your closest friends and allies would be here. She dressed you quickly as you picked at the tray of breakfast she had brought. As the bells chimed the arrival of seven in the morning, a knock sounded on your door. You settled yourself primly in a chair by the fire as Lucy went to answer.

“Your Majesty,” a knight greeted you as he stepped inside the room. He was tall, but not as tall as your husband, and his kind smile betrayed the intimidating broadsword that was strapped to his back. His hair was cropped short aside from a mohawk that split down the middle. All in all, he didn’t look like any of the stuffy, dignified knights of your parents' court.

“Good morning,” you greeted stiffly. His smile dimmed slightly and he inclined his head to you and then Lucy.

“My name is Sir John MacTavish, Your Majesty. I was sent to provide you both with a tour of the castle and the grounds.”

“Am I in any danger?” you asked. It was unusual that a knight would be sent to do a simple tour, but this whole court seemed entirely different from the way you were raised.

“No, my lady. It’s His Majesty’s version of a punishment, I’m afraid. He didn’t take too kindly to Sir Garrick and I stealing his sword for a day.” His crooked grin grew. “But if my punishment is to escort two beautiful women, then I fear I will find myself in more trouble.”

You exhaled a huff of laughter as Lucy’s cheeks flushed. This MacTavish was trouble, but he was the kindest person you had met so far in this country. Lucy grabbed a cloak for you and you thanked her for grabbing one without all the ornamentation that your mother insisted was fit for a queen. How on earth were you supposed to get your hands dirty if you were weighed down by jewels?

Sir MacTavish opted to show you the grounds first. The village bustled with activity and no one seemed to pay you any mind, which you preferred. Vendors stood at booths and bartered with tradesmen. Knights patrolled the edges of the market to keep an eye out for anyone with an intent to steal or deceive. Mothers with babies swaddled to their backs and chests carried laundry baskets on their hips. Men headed for the great doors implanted in the walls. They were open now, enabling the farmers, shepherds, and tradesmen to come and go.

Oh, it was delightful.

You were rarely allowed to step out into the village of your home because your mother insisted it was a dirty, loud, disease-filled place. Sure, it was full of voices and raucous laughter, and dirt and dust swirled into your hair and skirts, but it was full of people.

“Now, your main export is wheat, correct?” you asked over the din of the crowd. Sir MacTavish’s large stature and imposing sword made the crowds part, giving you a chance to examine the houses and buildings on either side of you. Lucy slipped her hand in yours in an attempt to stay close and not get swept up in the crowds.

“Aye,” he replied in his thick brogue. “How’d you know that?”

“When I first learned of the proposed alliance, I made an effort to learn about the country,” you admitted. “The orchards are your second greatest export, but I was told that you have to import medicinal herbs from other countries. Is the ground not suitable for those kinds of plants?”

He looked at you with something akin to surprise and then shrugged. “Alex, our main healer, has been trying to grow herbs for a while but they never last. He’s tried damn near everything. We try to stock up before the winter months when the fevers typically arise, but we’ve lost quite a few people to sickness.”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Your land should have the nutrients for the plants to survive. Their must be something else stunting them. Could you set up a meeting with the healer, if that’s allowed?”

The knight scoffed at your question and you felt, for a brief moment, that you overstepped. But he quickly dissuaded that thought. “You’re the Queen, m’lady. Of course that’s allowed.”

Hours later, MacTavish watched you talk with Alex, head bent over a book and finger pressed against the lines of text. Lucy stood next to him, rocking back and forth on her heels. You gestured to something outside and Alex lit up, your talking increasing in speed and volume.

“Is she always like that?” he asked the maid. Pride effused from her veins and she grinned brightly at him.

“Oh yes, she’s always been focused on caring for her people. The King and Queen…” Lucy faltered. “They were not as conscientious.”

When Soap first heard about the impending marriage, he thought Simon was off his rocker, well and truly. Price said it would strengthen their trade and provide protection from the west, but his king was the exact opposite of a touchy-feely love kind of person. But Soap also forgot that they were no longer a bunch of soldiers playing hero on the battlefield, but knights turned politicians. Gaz had nearly laughed himself out of the council chambers when Simon announced his intent to marry, especially to a princess of a small country. All they knew about you was from your parents. Your mother was a known court gossip and cared more about the latest dress trends than the status of her citizens. Your father was known for his callous nature and manipulation of his court.

All in all, they hadn’t heard good things about you.

Simon intended for it to be a purely political marriage. At some point, an heir would need to be produced, but Soap realized pretty quickly that Simon was betting on you producing some sort of bastard heir. Well, he thought to himself, Ghost’ll be surprised to hear about this.

That night, long after Lucy left you to sleep, you found yourself unable to fall into that state of semi-unconsciousness. The bed was too large, too empty for you. Sighing, you got up and pulled on a dressing gown over your thin nightdress and grabbed one of the candlesticks from the mantle. You used the dying light of the fireplace to ignite the wick and used the light to guide your steps out of the room and down the hall to where Sir MacTavish had shown you the library. This was your house too, now. Right?

Carefully, you eased open the doors and slipped into the library to find that a decent fire warmed the seating area. A maid must have left it going on accident and you made a mental note to smother it before you left.

Shelves full of books lined the room and you tentatively approached the closest one, lifting your candle higher to see the titles inscribed on the spines. It seemed like every book in the world filled this room. You wanted to know more about this country and its culture, economy, everything. Three shelves down, you hit a jackpot and started to acquire a small stack of books that you could carry back to your room.

Until something tugged at the edge of your gown.

A startled shriek escaped you and you looked down to find a little kitten playing with one of the tassels of your dressing gown. You laughed at your own foolishness and bent down to set the candlestick on the ground and offer your hand to the kitten. It chirped and butted its head against your palm.

“Well hello,” you cooed. “You’re just a baby, aren’t you? Where’s your mama?”

“They stay in the library to kill any rats that get in.”

This time, you nearly jumped out of your skin. You didn’t even hear another person approach and certainly not the huge man that stood before you. A gasp escaped you as you pulled your dressing gown closer around your body. You were fully aware of how improper this was. You were a married woman. You were the Queen. You could not be seen half-dressed in the library with a strange man.

His dark eyes tracked your movements and he turned to look at the books beside him. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, by all means, sneak up on a woman at night, all alone,” you huffed. You gave the kitten one more scritch under the chin and then gathered up the books and pressed them against your chest to hide yourself better. Your other hand scooped up the candlestick and you stood to face him. Well. As best as you could. He towered over you easily and you swallowed past the lump in your throat. He was beautiful, in a haunted sort of way. His nose was crooked, as if it had been broken before, and a thick scar ran across his cheek and through his lips. Messy blond hair fell across his forehead and some strands into his dark brown eyes. You had never seen him before, but you assumed by his ease of movement in the library and the muscles that rippled under his shirt that he was a knight.

“If you will excuse me now,” you said tersely. He stepped back to give you space and you practically stormed past him and out of the library. No way in hell would you be accused of impropriety.

Simon watched you leave with an amused smile pulling at his lips. He bent down to offer the kitten a gentle pet and noticed that you had left a book behind. Scooping it up, he assumed it would be some frivolous thing but found himself surprised when he read the title. What the hell were you doing reading last years tax collections?

Two months passed and you were settling into your new life quite well. You rarely saw your husband and, when you did, the two of you barely exchanged more than a stilted greeting and farewell. You didn’t mind. Sure, the court and the villagers were starting to whisper about your lack of body changes, but you didn’t give a shit. King Simon hadn’t darkened the doorstep of your bedroom and you preferred it that way.

Despite the fact that villagers turned their backs to you, for once in your life, you didn’t feel pressured to exist by the constraints of others' expectations. For once, you felt like you could truly just…be.

The winter was beginning to creep up on the land. You could feel it in the mornings when your joints were a bit stiffer and the bed a little more inviting than it typically was. A new fur pelt blanket appeared on the edge of your bed after the first cold front pushed through and you accepted it gratefully. Lucy denied having acquired it, but you figured she was just being demure. King Simon and Sir MacTavish were off hunting with a few men before the winter finally closed the city walls for the season. It allowed you a chance to breathe just a little easier without wondering what your so-called husband was up to.

Despite the cold, you were in the garden plots on the far side of the castle wall. After talking with Alex, you had realized the old garden plot was too close to the castle and absorbed extra heat off of the sun’s reflection from the windows. The new garden spot provided the perfect amount of shade and light in equal turn and the herbs were growing beautifully. Alex had been called to help with a scythe injury in the fields, so you volunteered to gather the last of the herbs before the first frost. Lucy sat nearby with a basket of darning next to her. Your ever faithful friend rarely left your side and you were eternally grateful. Even if you knew she made sure to change out her dress and apron if Sir MacTavish came by to chat.

“Your Majesty!” a shrill voice shrieked in the distance. You glanced up and saw a young boy rushing towards you with two knights hot on his tail. The child’s face was stained with tears and his breaths choked off with the occasional hiccuping sob, but he still outpaced the two knights. You stood and wiped the dirt on your hands onto your skirt and kneeled in time to catch the boy by the shoulders before he bowled you over. The knights drew their weapons, but you raised your hand to stall them.

“What is it?” you urged the boy to explain. “What’s wrong?”

“My mother. She’s ill. Healer Keller is in the fields and Lady Karim went to get him, but she’s getting worse a-and I don’t know what to do,” he sobbed.

“Put your weapons away,” you ordered the knights. The older one left, presumably to fetch help, and the younger one sheathed his sword.

“Your Majesty, it’s the fever,” the knight explained. His soft eyes cast a worried glance at your hands that held the boy, but you brushed aside that concern. He was a child and he needed comfort. He needed to feel as though his mother had a fighting chance.

“Lucy, I need feverfew, ginger, and echinacea. Sir…” You turned to face the knight and he tipped his head in a formal greeting.

“Garrick, Your Majesty.”

“Sir Garrick will lead you to the house. Come, show me to your mother.” The boy grabbed your hand and you used your other free hand to gather your skirts and run. His house was on the opposite end of the village and the braying of cattle and sheep filled the air along with the clanking of their bells. When you stepped into the house, the earthy richness of the soil was overwrought with the pervasive scent of sick. A woman on the bed curled in on herself and let out a violent cough into the rag loosely clutched in her hand. Next to the bed, a baby wailed in its cradle.

“What’s your name?” you asked the boy gently.

“Tommy, m’lady.” Tears lined his eyes once more and you smoothed his hair down, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Alright, Tommy. Can you do me a favor? If I move your sister outside, can you take care of her until Sir Garrick and Lucy arrive?” He nodded his head so quickly, you thought he might injure himself.

You scooped up the baby and placed her in her brother’s arms before you grabbed the cradle and carried it outside, the children following close behind. The cold winter air nipped at your nose and you quickly discarded your fur-lined cloak. You wrapped it around Tommy and the cradle and instructed him to stay outside.

Once back in the house, you rolled up the sleeves of your gown and washed your hands in a basin set up by the door. Approaching the woman, you pressed the back of your hand to her forehead and cursed under your breath.

“Tommy?” she whimpered. You brushed your hand over her brow and shushed her.

“Rest. It’s alright. I’m here to help.”

Lucy came only a few minutes later with the supplies you ordered and a few other things she thought you would need. She then took Tommy and his sister, Eleanor, to the castle to stay at for the time being. The mother, Fiona, wasn’t too far gone in your estimate. You had helped the healers back home during the fever, slipping out when your mother wasn’t looking. The study of herbs and medicine fascinated you, even if it wasn’t a ladylike pursuit. Despite Sir Garrick’s protest at it being too dangerous, you stayed with Fiona even when Alex returned from the fields with her husband in tow. Instead, you banished the two men to find somewhere else to stay to lower their risk of infection. It would be no use if the children lost both parents and the country lost its best healer.

“Inhale, you’re doing great,” you coaxed Fiona through a steam treatment. The echinacea helped relieve some of her cough and the feverfew was bringing her temperature down. You had been at it for hours now and even though your mind ached for rest, you needed to see this through. Sir Garrick posted himself outside of the door and refused to leave until you did, so you weren’t the only one with a sleepless night.

As dawn broke on the second day, so did her fever. You must have dozed off at some point in the early hours and you rose to stoke the fire to keep the small cabin warm. Fiona stirred on her bed and let out a slight cough that sounded much better compared to the first time you saw her. A little bit of color returned to her face and you knew that you were past the point of the illness being lethal.

“Your Majesty,” she breathed. The woman tried to rise from her bed, but you shook your head and motioned for her to stay seated. You poured her a cup of ginger tea and settled yourself on the edge of the bed, helping her drink it in long, slow sips.

“How do you feel?” you asked.

“Better, m’lady. So much better. How did you…?”

A quiet laugh escaped you. “An old healer in my home village taught me all she knew. She was accused of being a witch, but she was really just smart.”

“Tommy and Eleanor? Are they alright?”

“Being doted on by the castle chef’s, I believe,” you assured her. “And your husband is with them. They’re all well.”

Fiona inhaled deeply for the first time in days and then blinked back tears. Her hands grasped yours and she bowed her head. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. We thought you were some foolish girl. We’re so protective of the king that we just assumed… oh, my Queen, please forgive me for the contempt I felt towards you.”

A wave of both sorrow and adoration washed over you and you hugged the woman close. “You need not apologize. What’s done is done and let us move past it.”

On the third day, with her fever down and the risk of contagion passed, you granted the family to return to the cabin and accepted Sir Garrick’s offer of an escort back to the castle. You were sure you made a right sight, with your dress dirty with soot from mending the fire and spills of both tea and sick staining the fabric. You kept your chin up and shoulders back as you walked through the village. You didn’t want to look at the faces peering through their windows and open doors. You didn’t want to see their judgment at the sight of their Queen in such a disarray.

As you approached the castle, you asked Sir Garrick the question that had brewed in your mind since you left the cabin. “Has the king returned yet?”

“No, m’lady. We expect him back tomorrow.”

Good, you told yourself. He won’t see you looking like this. He won’t be present for what happens next.

Lucy heated bathwater for you and had it ready when you stepped through the doors of your suite. You refused to let her help you undress and bundled your dress into a bag before instructing her to burn it to ensure that contamination didn’t affect anyone else. The scent of rose petals lingered in your nose and you let your head loll back against the rim of the tub.

“You should go,” you instructed your maid. “I will fall ill in a day, maybe earlier.”

“Is that an order?” You had never used rank on her. It was unheard of between the two of you and the thought of it made you cringe.

“Never.”

“Then I shall stay.”

Through the fog of sleep, you heard the doors shudder against the force of something. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and you could guess from the position of the rays on the bed, it was near noon, far past your usual wake time. You willed your body to rise from the bed, but all you were capable of doing was releasing a violent cough that rattled your lungs and made your bones ache.

The door rattled again and you concluded that it had to be a dream. Another cough escaped you and you looked at the fabric below your cheek to see a small splatter of blood on the fabric. Yes, a dream. You were still at home. You had fallen asleep in a bed of wildflowers in the garden, a book on your chest and a bird perched on your shoulder. The warmth that flowed over your body was simply the sun bathing you in its gentle light.

Footsteps pounded against your eardrums in the steady thudthudthud that matched your heart and you shut your eyes to ward off the ache that accompanied it. A wheezing breath passed through your lips just as two hands grabbed your cheeks.

“Your Majesty!” Lucy cried from somewhere to your left.

“How long has she been ill?” a voice growled above you. You tried to place it to a face, but all you could see was what appeared to be a skull. You couldn’t be that far along in the fever, right?

“This is the second day,” Lucy explained. “It’s only going to get worse tomorrow and, if we can stymie the fever, it will abate and she will make it.”

“Soap, alert Keller now. Bring me rags and a fresh pitcher of water.” You turned your head towards the voice and tried to see past your swimming vision. A delicate touch stilled you and you let out a slow, rattling exhale.

“My lord, if you stay, you risk the security of this nation,” Lucy said quietly. What? What on earth did she mean by that? A calloused thumb rubbed along your cheekbone and you let your eyes fall shut as exhaustion began to claim you once more. You nestled closer to the comforting touch and it stilled for just a moment before resuming.

“I had the fever as a child,” Simon explained to your maid. “And if my wife is brave enough to sit with the sick, then I must be too. Go rest. I will watch her for a bit.”

She meant to protest, but one look at her king made her change her mind. He wasn’t even looking at her, but rather his entire focus was on you. He had charged into the room looking like something fresh out of war when he saw your weakened from sprawled out on the bed. Lucy had been doing her best to provide symptom relief and to lower your fever, but she was exhausted too. Sir MacTavish took hold of the maid’s arm and gently led her to a spare room on the floor so she could rest, quarantine, and regain her strength.

When the fever broke three days later, you opened your eyes to find the hulking form of your husband crushed into the tiny chair he had drawn up next to your bed. One of his rough, calloused hands wrapped around your wrist and you realized with a start that he was checking your pulse. As your heart race increased, his eyes opened. He wore a different mask than usual, just a simple black fabric that bridged across his nose and hid the lower half of his face. It revealed a few scars that marred his temple and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and smoothing the tips of your fingers over the puffy skin. He caught your wrist and you quickly realized your place and started to pull away, but he shook his head and merely drew your hand up to touch the silky blond hair he usually kept hidden from you.

It should be laughable to you. The first time your husband saw you in your nightclothes, in your bed, unmade and unraveled, and it was because you fell ill. This was the first time he had been in your room and it wasn��t for the expected production of an heir.

One of his hands came up to cradle your cheek and the other wet a cloth before dabbing it against your brow. You found that there were no words to say anything. Instead, you merely shut your eyes and let him care for you.

Things changed after that. Gone were the days spent in the company of only Lucy. Now you couldn’t make your way through the castle or the village without someone accompanying you. The villagers greeted you warmly and offered you fresh baked bread or holiday treats. When the first snow fell, you and Lucy found yourself ganged up on by some of the village kids in what turned into an all-out snowball war. Laughter rang out in the courtyard as you dashed around the bend of one of the stables to avoid a well-aimed snowball. Lucy had been tackled by some of the smaller kids and succumbed to them piling on her with shrieks of laughter and giggles echoing off the stone. You could hear some of the older kids coming towards your hiding location and you quickly turned around the corner only to land against a firm, unyielding chest.

Before you could say anything, a hand came up to cover your mouth and your husband raised a finger to his lips. He stepped away from you and bent down to scoop up a handful of snow and pack it into a perfect sphere. By the time the kids emerged from their hiding places, the two of you had a nice pile of ammo growing.

“You dare threaten the Queen?” Simon boomed in an overly exaggerated voice. As you pelted the kids with snow, Simon lunged and scooped up one of the smaller children who erupted into shrieks and giggles. Your heart seized at the sight of one of the world’s strongest warriors gently carrying this child. In all of your time here, you had never seen one of the rumors of the Riley clan come true. They were not vicious or cruel. They were good, kind people. They were as good as their king.

The parents came to collect their children and haul them back inside to warm up. It sounded like a good idea to you as snow dripped down the back of your cloak and soaked your dress. Lucy was off talking to Sir MacTavish, or Soap as he asked to be called, so you started to head inside alone. As you stepped out from the stable, a shiver wracked through your body and then a heavy fabric draped over your shoulder and settled across your body. You looked up to find your husband in a staring contest with one of the horses and you looked down at his cloak that now graced your body. A shy smile bloomed across your lips and you slipped your hand out of the bundle of fabric to seek out his.

“Would you like to join me in the library for some hot tea after we get out of these wet clothes?” His eyes darkened at your words and, afraid you overstepped, you started to draw your hand back when his fingers entwined with yours.

“I’ll have the cooks make hot cocoa,” he said in that rough, rich voice of his.

After a quick change into something dry and comfortable, you made your way down the hall to the library. You hadn’t been in here for at least a week due to being inundated with preparation for the solstice celebrations. Holly hung from shelves and crevices. Warm fur and soft knitted blankets lined the seating area. A tray of sweets and cocoa sat on the low table between the two sofas. A crackling fire jumped and danced within the hearth and beside it, a momma cat with her (now) adolescent kittens slumbered lazily by the warmth.

And standing by the window, watching the snow fall down, was your husband. He turned when he heard the door open and offered you a small smile.

Oh.

A smile.

He wore no mask.

“You were the one that scared me half to death that night,” you blurted out. He ducked his head, almost bashful, and nodded.

“My apologies, once again.”

You stepped closer to him and took a solid look at him in the light of day. You reached up and touched the edge of his lip, right where that nasty scar bisected his smile. There were stories of the old king of this land, stories that you wished desperately weren’t true, but you were afraid of their veracity. This scar wasn’t obtained from battle, you figured. But rather his father.

“You’re so handsome,” you breathed, truth in your words. His eyes watched you carefully as you ran your fingers along every one of his features, as though you could commit the touch of him to memory. When you first learned you would be marrying the King of the Riley lands, you were scared. Was he some snarling beast of a man? Would he take and take and take until there was nothing left of you?

No, you whispered to your past self. He was nothing like the rumors and everything like the man you dreamed you would marry. He was kind and gentle. He cared deeply, so deeply that it etched into every fiber of his being. He read literature, he took care of cats, he loved seeing his people experience joy, and he-

He kissed you as though he was a drowning man taking his first breath in a long time. You raised your chin to beckon him closer and curled yourself into his large frame. There was no fear in your mind or body, not when Simon was here. His large palm settled low on your back and pulled you flush against him, eliciting a tiny moan from you. You could feel his desire grow against you and you pulled away with a gasp.

“I have been a terrible husband,” he murmured and pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed him in and slid your hands up and over his broad, strong chest, his biceps, his shoulders, and into his hair. You tugged the strands gently and he groaned, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses along your jaw.

“I misjudged you, dear wife.” His hands slid down to grasp your ass and you whimpered, your heated fleshing erupting with desire. “I had no idea how precious you would be to me, to my people.”

“I fear we were both wrong about each other,” you gasped out. He picked you up with ease and left the library, turning right instead of left towards your room. For the first time, you were entering his room.

“Let me make it up to you, my love. Let me atone for every day I have left you without knowing how truly worthy you are.”

The maids and ladies of the court had gossiped about how it hurts, but they didn’t speak of what pleasure it could bring. He practically drove you mad from the way he drew you apart and made you snap. He took you apart over and over again only to bring you back together with such a gentle touch that you couldn’t believe that he was yours.

Four months after your nuptials, your husband finally laid you to bed and claimed you as his. But he waited until you breathed your assent against his lips, until you begged him to take you, until you claimed him as yours too. And when you finally collapsed against his sweaty, heaving chest, you waited for him to get up and walk out as so many women told you that their husbands do. But he merely slid his arm around your waist and drew you into his chest, his hand settling over the soft skin of your stomach.

“I have always been scared at the prospect of being a father,” he admitted. His words were stilted and slow, as if he had to consider each one carefully before he said them. You stroked your fingers through his hair and drew his knuckles to your lips so you could pepper kisses along the calluses of war that remained there.

“I’m not,” you said.

“Not what?”

Your eyes met his and he curled his fingers around your jaw, guiding you to meet his lips in a sweet kiss. When you broke apart, merely a hairbreadth away, you spoke. “I’m not afraid. I can be brave for the both of us.”

You nestled your face against his bare chest and hummed softly. His hand stroked along your bare waist, not in desire, but solely as a means to touch you in pure devotion. Your words seemed to stun him, but he regained his wits and leaned down to kiss your temple.

“If you don’t bring me those cookies, dear husband, I’m afraid I will never speak to you again,” you said, cracking one eye open to look at him. A brilliant smile spread across his lips and he hopped up, throwing on some pants so he didn’t scar any guards walking down the hall. You sat up to watch his toned body disappear through the door and bit your lip as want pulsed through your veins.

That night, you didn’t return to your bedroom. You wouldn’t have been able to, you mused, not with the sheer weight and muscle of your husband wrapped around you. But you didn’t mind. Here, in his bed, you didn’t feel the same emptiness or cold that seeped into your bones when you were alone in yours.

Spring brought new life to the world. You sat out in the gardens and plucked some weeds that threatened to overtake your herbs. The kitten from the library, now a full grown cat but definitely still a kitten in your eyes, lounged lazily at your feet. Lucy worked on embroidering something that you pointedly didn’t ask if it was for her wedding night. Because she and Soap refused to announce that they were betrothed even though you all had bets on it. That is precisely why they wouldn’t say, you figured. Brats.

Soap and Simon and Sir Garrick (Gaz, you reminded yourself) were off with a few other knights on a hunting party and also a reconnaissance mission. Word had it that a faction from a neighboring country was looking to cause trouble. Shadows, they were called, due to their ability to just appear and disappear into the forests.

The captain of his guard, John Price, stayed behind to protect the castle. John was a nice man, older than both you and Simon, but he was a good leader and an even better fighter. The knights listened to him and there were times that Simon went to him for advice on matters of state. You trusted John.

So when he approached you that day in the garden with a troubled look on his face, you knew to listen.

“Your Majesty, I have reports of movement on the western quadrant. I’ve dispatched a rider to inform the King, but I am about to place us on lockdown. I need you to come with me.”

Lucy was up before you could even begin to stand and she quickly helped you to your feet and guided you towards the castle. You knew that you needed to keep a serene, calm expression on your face so as not to incite panic. You hated that you were going into hiding when your people would be caught in the crossfire.

“How far is Simon?”

“About two hours away.”

A lot could happen in two hours. A siege could last days or the walls could fall within minutes. You inhaled deeply as you followed him through the winding maze of the castle halls. Time and experience had made you quick to learn the routes through here and hopefully, it would confuse an intruder.

John led you to a small room hidden under the stairs in the servants quarters and offered a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing but a precaution, my lady. But do not leave this room unless the King or I come for you.”

He overestimated your ability to sit quietly and listen to your people die. These so-called Shadows felt no remorse in taking down innocent people. Lucy had to practically sit on you and cover your mouth as you trembled with rage. Hurried footsteps sounded all around you as servants rushed about and knights set up barriers and mounted defenses.

It wasn’t enough.

They attacked at the beginning of spring, when people were lax from the winter feasts and lack of physical work due to being kept inside by the cold and snow. They knew this was when you would be weakest and that’s why they exploited it.

Fear lapped at your stomach and you shut your eyes as a pained cry ripped through the servants quarters. No, you couldn’t do this. The Shadows weren’t after them. They were after you.

You shoved Lucy back and forced open the door, coming face to face with a knight in black armor. He raised his blade but hesitated when he took in the sight of the circlet that adorned your head. With a chuckle, he raised his helmet and revealed his smarmy face.

“How do you do, Your Majesty? Name’s Graves.”

“Go to hell,” you spat.

The knight dragged you out of the castle with little protest on your end. Servants peered around the corner of walls and furniture as you strode past, but they were safe. Now that the Shadows had their hands on one of the monarchs, they no longer needed to target the people. More of the Shadows fell in behind the two of you and you were glad to pull them away from terrorizing your family. Your friends. Your citizens.

“Your Majesty,” an older man greeted. “I wish we met under better circumstances. Herschel Shepherd.”

“Fuck you,” was your simple reply. The man chuckled and then backhanded you hard enough to split your lip thanks to his thick signet ring. The Shadows spread out in a circle around the three of you, blocking anyone from rushing to your rescue.

“You know why we’re here then,” Shepherd said. Graves yanked you back into a standing position and forced your chin up so you had to look the man in the eye. You simply rolled your eyes and glared at him, your hands bunching in the fabric of your skirt.

“I know you’re a coward. And pathetic.” Another smack to the other side of the face had you tasting blood.

“I know the King probably likes your pretty mouth, but I’m getting tired of it. You know what I want.”

“I won’t do it.”

“Then I’ll slaughter your entire village.”

Your chest tightened because it wasn’t an empty threat and you knew it. You had heard the reports of other villages and countries. You had heard the stories of what they had done to women and children and men.

“Will you do it yourself? Or make your men do it so you can go to bed every night lying to yourself that your a good man?”

His eyes flashed with something dangerous but you didn’t flinch. Rather, you curled your lips into a sneer and spat directly into his face. He grabbed your jaw, hard enough to force your teeth together with a painful clack, and dragged you to face him. His grip shifted down and around your throat, cutting off your air.

“I should kill you. I should. But once I get you to submit and renounce the crown, I’ll keep you around. Looks like Riley hasn’t laid his seed yet so I’ll let Graves do it. I’ll make sure that no matter how hard you try, you’ll have the heir to the Shadows. You’ll be our whore. Our bitch.”

You struggled against his hold and kicked out, connecting with his shin. He released you but Graves grabbed your arms and pinned them back, securing them with rope, before he pressed on the back of your knees.

“Kneel,” Graves hissed.

“Make me,” you snarled. You just needed to buy some more time. You just needed to-

No. Lucy was thrown into the mud next to you, her hands bound behind her back. She was breathing deeply and you could see her wince with every movement. Broken rib, maybe two, you cataloged. Those bastards.

“Kneel and I won’t kill her,” Shepherd commanded. Your heart pounded painfully against your chest as you slowly, slowly knelt down in the mud. He grinned, an awful and predatory smile, and yanked the circlet out of your hair.

“Look at your queen!” Shepherd boomed. “Come out and see how she prostrates herself before her new ruler. It’s alright now. You all are saved.”

Villagers peeked out of their houses and saw the spectacle before them. The Shadows parted to reveal you to the crowds in a mud-stained dress, crown gone, and bruises already forming on your face. A noise rang out in the village, some kind of holler. Shepherd’s smile widened.

“Yes, yes. Gone are the days of eating scraps while your ruler lives in riches,” he called. “Come see for yourself. She’s merely human.”

You bowed your head to look at Lucy and check over her. That’s what you told yourself, at least. You didn’t want to see the truth. You waited for the derision, the sneers, for the anger they surely felt at your failure to keep them safe. You waited for the rage to rain down upon you.

It never came.

A roar, no, a battle cry swept through the village and then they were descending en masse. No amount of armor or training could save the Shadows from the pure, violent rage of your people. You raised your head to see Fiona jab a pitchfork through a knight’s neck and let out a breathless laugh.

Chaos reigned. You wrenched yourself over Lucy’s body and pressed your cheek against your dear friends, listening to her labored breathing below and the sounds of war above. What if a horse struck you? Or a blade stabbed you in the back? What if a Shadow grabbed you and made for the forest? What if, what if, what if?

Someone grabbed your bicep and you kicked back, but a familiar voice calmed you instantly. “It’s me, m’lady!” John shouted. He sliced through your bonds and did the same for Lucy. You turned and saw that he was in a dreadful fucking state. Blood practically caked every inch of his armor and exposed skin.

“We need to get you out of here,” he ordered.

“And go where?” you retorted. “Give me a knife, sir, and watch me cut out every tongue of the men who dare harm my people.”

“Where is my wife?” Simon’s roaring voice erupted over the din. The villagers stopped their rabid attacks as the King’s Guard swept into the walls of the city. You nearly wept in relief at the sight of the masked figure atop the pure black horse. He looked as thought he were the Grim Reaper himself, but death would not touch you today.

Rage filled his very veins when he saw you, battered and bleeding and standing in the middle of carnage. He jumped down from his steed and pushed through the crowd to you. Blood caked your hair and dripped down your forehead and for a moment, he was terrified it was yours.

“Are you hurt?” His armor was cold where it touched your cheek and you shook your head, reconsidered, and then nodded.

“But not as bad as Lucy or others. I need to get to the healers room. I need to help them,” you pleaded. Soap had dismounted and rushed to join you when he saw Lucy and he knelt next to her now, gentle hands probing against her broken ribs.

“Where is he?” Simon snarled. “Where is Shepherd?”

“Right here, sir,” Fiona announced. He turned to find the farmer’s wife with her foot planted on the man’s chest and her pitchfork digging into the exposed skin of his neck. “Lou’s got the slimy bastard too. No one hurts our queen. No one.”

Affection squeezed your heart so tightly you feared you would break down and weep right there. These people, this nation, had adopted you and loved you unlike any other. You were a mere princess married to their king for an alliance but to them, you were their queen by merit alone.

“Round up any of the Shadows that remain,” Ghost ordered. “Leave Shepherd to me.”

You knew he would kill him. In fact, you knew he would torture him. But that didn’t scare you. Simon’s hands didn’t leave you until you were finally pulled away to aid with healing. There were bodies to prepare for burial, items to repair, people to hold as they grieved.

A queen’s job was never done. You wouldn’t give it up for anything.

In the quiet of the night, when the injured were sleeping peacefully thanks to droughts and pain relief, you slipped out of the healer’s quarters and found Simon leaning against the wall. He raised his head when he heard you step out and his tired eyes shut in relief.

“You should be sleeping,” you chastised. He shook his head and removed his mask, baring himself to you.

“I close my eyes and I see your corpse,” he admitted. “John informed me as to what you did. Sacrifice yourself.”

“I did what I had to do to keep them safe.”

He tipped his head back against the wall, exposing the smooth column of his throat and the way his throat bobbed with every labored breath. “I know. Fuck, I know. But I am a selfish enough man to admit that I would have rather you remained untouched.”

“I can be replaced. Our people cannot.”

He screwed his eyes shut and covered his mouth with his hand. Simon inhaled deeply, as if calming himself, and shook his head. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever fucking say that.”

“Say what?”

“That you can be replaced. You are not some expendable object. You are not some figurehead I can stuff a new body into. You are…you are exquisite. You are magnificent. Our people would rather die than ever lose you, do you understand that?” His armor creaked and groaned in protest but this man, this king, kneeled before you and fisted the fabric of your dirty, blood-stained gown in his hands and pressed his face against your stomach.

“Never say that,” he begged. “Please, I cannot bear to hear you say that in my presence again.”

“Simon.” Was that tears you saw in his eyes? “Look at me.” Truly, it was tears that lined his honey brown eyes. You swept your thumb across his lashes and gathered the salty tear on your skin. Leaning down, you pressed your forehead to his and breathed him in.

“What can I do to make you understand?” His voice was hoarse and thick with emotion.

“Nothing. I understand.” Exhaustion sank into your bones and dragged you down into his arms. He cradled you against him and hauled you up with ease. The day’s events were catching up to you quickly and you wished for the sun to rise again, simply so you could move past the blood that was caked on your skin.

He carried you all the way to his -- your shared -- room and set you on the ground before a bath of steaming water. Simon undressed you carefully, peeling off each layer as if you would dissolve once he reached your chemise, and then settled you into the tub. He stripped off his armor, his underclothes, and settled in behind you. His fingers etched their devotion with every gentle pass of soap against your skin and he took your hand in his to scrub the blood out from under your nails.

“Lucy?” Your tired voice sounded foreign to you, like another person was speaking.

“Soap’s with her. She’ll make a full recovery, just in time for the wedding.” A soft smile curled at his lips and you tilted your head back to rest against his shoulder. His lips traced along the cuts that Shepherd’s hands left and he removed the pain with a simple kiss.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. You could feel his frown against the skin of your neck and he took a deep breath before asking what you meant.

“I lied to you. I’m afraid.”

“Oh my love.” He kissed your shoulder. “I was afraid too.”

“No, Simon, I wasn’t afraid before. I knew you would come. I knew that, whatever happened to me, you would avenge me. That didn’t scare me. It’s what is to come.”

You drew one of his hands away from the side of the tub and rested it on your stomach, above the slight swell that Alex confirmed earlier was indeed the next heir to the Riley throne. Simon’s breath hitched against your neck and then he fell silent. You shut your eyes and waited for his condemnation at your foolish actions today. You could threaten your own life all you wanted, but the heir?

“Simon?” Fear laced your voice and he hated that he put it here. He pressed his cheek to your hair and stroked his thumb against your stomach.

“I was content to rip out one of his lungs,” Simon murmured in your ear. “But now I have two reasons to remove both entirely. He threatened the life of my queen, my love, and he threatened the life of my heir.”

You exhaled a shaky breath and felt a smile grow on your face. He tapped your hip and you stood, letting the water slough off of you and back into the water that was now a mix of mud and blood. Simon took his time drying you off, leaving lingering kisses on every part of your body. Your shoulders, breasts, stomach, hips, even your calves received an equal measure of love. As he knelt at your feet once more, you cupped his face in your hands and pulled his gaze up to meet yours. He settled his chin on your stomach and looked at you with so much adoration.

“Are you afraid?”

His smile grew. “No, for I know you will be brave enough for both of us. And you, my little wife, have the bravery of a lioness.”

#simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley fic #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost fic #5k celebration

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reallyromealone · 1 year ago

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Ganon omegaverse 2 baybee

Fluff, male reader, omegaverse, made up Hyrule lore, mentions of the Oracle's as I have been playing seasons and ages again as they're the best Zelda games fight me

🔺🔻🔺🔻🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻🔺🔻

(name) was in awe as he looked at gerudo valley, the endless sand dunes and the hot sun as they took a break at the Kara Kara Bazaar "we prepared clothes for you, the weather's aren't as fair as they are in the castle" Ganon said smoothly as one of the guards presented him with clothes.

Omegas were treated the same as women in Geredo town, many omegas saught refuge there and were welcomed, so it made sense that omegas wore similar clothes as the gerudo people "uberosa has graciously offered to help you in any way" Ganon said and (name) nodded as he was led to the small inn, the Gerudo who ran the Inn bowing to their king "Sav'aaq...my mate needs a place to change his clothes, could we perhaps use a room?" Ganon was calm and kind to his people who nodded "o-of course! It would be our honor!" One said and they were led to a large bedroom "Sarqso" Ganon said and (name) said a soft thank you with a curtsy to them much to their suprise.

"Uberosa can help you change as needed...I'll be outside" Ganon said smoothly and (name) nodded, the trip had been a bit of a blur so far.

"Did you know of the engagement?" Uberosa asked casually as she helped him clasp anything and adjust, when needed "I wish I did... I-I don't know why my sister would keep something like that...not just from me but from everyone-- aside from betraying me she could have caused /war/"

"The pain it would cause both our people... it's selfish of her" he said and Uberosa was quite shocked, so far the Omega seemed dainty and like many omegas in upper class status but to hear him openly call the Queen selfish /and/ think of not just his people but the Gerudo was quite refreshing.

"I formally apologize for my sister's negligence" (name) bowed to the Gerudo who pulled him up "Fret not little Omega, you are not responsible for your sisters actions"

"I just hope I can make a good impression with your people"

"/Our/"

"Hm?"

"You are mates to my brother, you too are a Gerudo"

"Wait-- you're his sister?" (Name) whispered in awe "you're my sister in law?"

"I am" she smiled softly at his look if awe "A-and you do combat? That's so cool! Zelda knew how to use a sword but I wasn't allowed because I was an Omega, gosh I have so much to learn about the Gerudo people!"

Uberosa found the smaller Omega (compared to her any Hylian was tiny) quite fascinating as she helped him finish up, dressed in lovely Gerudo clothes, the poor Omega fitting in their more teen sizes.

"Fit like a Gerudo" Ganon said smiling as he could see (name) beam from behind the delicate silk that covered his mouth "you think? It's so much more light weight than Hylian clothes" he said happily and Ganon led him back to the carriage "you look wonderful".

The valley was vast as Ganon pointed out things in the far distances, landmarks and such "that is the temple though it's far to dangerous to go into at the moment" he explained and (name) nodded, fully paying attention as he looked at where the other pointed. Ganon found his curiosity precious and was incredibly pleased his mate loved the valley as much as he did "this will be your home, so it's best you know things about it that aren't from books" he looked at (name)s outfit, enjoying the sight of his exposed stomach and knew (name) was sneaking glances at him, the male Gerudo clothes showing his muscles fully and he could faintly smell the attraction from the other who desperately tried to hide his scent.

"Welcome to Gerudo town" he said as they stopped before the sandstone walls that hid the large city, Ganon stepping out as the door opened to help the Omega out and smiling internally at the look of awe on his face "better than the books?"

"Far..." The hot sand slid slightly against his flats, the hot desert Sun like no other but he was giddy none the less.

Between the sandstone buildings were vibrant shades of colored fabrics as stalls lined the townsquare, merchants selling their wares and the sound of water from the stream running through the city. He felt his body shake in excitement and eyes looked around with wonder "you live here?"

"We live here" Ganon said to the other who flushed slightly "we can give you a tour of the town tomorrow, for now we should get you settled in yes?"

The rooms were grand, soft looking blankets and pillows adorned the room he was led to as windows looked out the endless cast desert "I prepared you a room of your own, I didn't want you to feel pressured sharing quarters with me just yet" (name) chirped at his kindness as Ganon took his hands in his own and gently kissed the knuckles "I will leave you to settle"

When night rolled around, (name) had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he gazed through the large windows of his room, the valley was beautiful at night as stars littered the sky like flecks of paint... It was like nothing he had seen before at the castle. It was colder too, the Omega shivering slightly under the thick blanket "troubles sleeping?" (Name) turned around to see Ganon dressed in a Bastian shirt and dark pants and shoes.

"It's pretty..." Was all (name) said as his fiance walked to where he was and (name) reached out "care to join me?"

The two couldn't understand their attraction to one another, it was predestined for centuries but it felt like the stars aligned in their favor.

"Absolutely"

(Name) let himself be sat in ganons lap as they looked at the stars, (name) pointing to the constellations that were not able to be seen from Hyrule Castle, what he learned in his books coming in handy as he spoke "that is the constellation for din, it's said the star shines brighter when a season changes" he explained and Ganon hummed "in Hyrule, we could only see farores... What do you think the Oracle's were like?"

"I was told that Din was a traveller, a Nomad one could say... She was one of the first to settle in Gerudo valley..." Ganon said softly, holding pride in his people "it's said nayru still lives, she travels through time and visits periods and watches over to make sure time stays right"

"And farore?"

"None is known about her but it's said she travelled to ta neighboring kingdom and lived in a tree not unlike our Deku tree" ganons voice was soothing as (name) settled in his chest, the smell of spices and honey comforting him as his eyes slipped shut, enjoying the sweet words his fiance spoke.

Ganon stopped speaking when he felt (name) slump, smiling at the Omega who was sleeping so gently against him.

He was truly made for him.

#loz x male reader #loz x reader #legend of zelda x male reader #legend of zelda x reader #ganondorf x male reader #ganon x male reader #ganondorf x reader #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader

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theseeingfawn · 8 months ago

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My Elriel Subscription list on AO3

Below are the MANY Eriel fics I am currently subscribed to and DYING for more of…

🌹A Court of Blooming Sight by katkos96

Summary: Post ACOSF and HOFAS Eriel fan fic! This fan fic will try and stay as canon as possible, with theories based off of many lovely creators as well as my own. There may be some head canons involved, as we have not had a book come out yet, but any theories and the minds behind them will be tagged. This is duel-pov between Elain and Azriel!

🌹A Court of Sunlight and Shadows by Ahimadala

Summary: Just when Elain thought she had found balance since her life was turned upside down, someone begins to doubt the true nature of her powers. Koschei threatens the fragile peace that has settled over Prythian with his search for the cauldron. However, its power is now inextricably linked to the one who has been gifted by it.

🌹A Match Baked In Heaven by NikeTheStatue

Summary: Elain Archeron, owner of the prestigious Marigold Agency, which specializes in exclusive matchmaking has a new and very challenging client. Azriel Night, football superstar, 'stubborn as a mule' (according to his brother Cassian), handsome womanizer is under pressure to find himself a wife. At stake--a 230 million inheritance.

🌹A Shot in the Darkest Dark by yourstarsmyscars

Summary: It was always those who understood fate the least who spoke most freely of it, as though the future were a path carved of marble, all roads leading in one direction, and one direction alone.

It was always meant to be this way, they said, never understanding that fate was chaos and not order, madness with no clarity. And fate could be changed, if you knew which strands to pluck.

🌹Chiaroscuro (Series) by Meraki_Moonglade/a>

Summary: A collection of beautifully told stories on the budding relationship between Elain and Azriel.

🌹Cruel Summer by slythrhys

Summary: With a broken heart and a bruised ego, Elain tries to survive a week living alongside Azriel in her family's summer home, where they all gather to celebrate Nesta and Cassian's wedding.

🌹Everywhere, Everything by duskandcobalt

Summary: Two close friends, one crossed line… After a decade of friendship, Elain and Azriel are left to navigate the fallout following an encounter that's far from platonic. or A friends to lovers fic about denial and longing.

🌹Forgotten Bonds by noedovenest

Summary: After the events of ACOSF, Elain is torn between exploring her bond with her mate and her growing affection for Azriel.

🌹Golden Doe in a Valley of Shadow by Violetasteracademic

Summary: A week after Solstice, Elain is lost and heartbroken by Azriel's rejection. A surprise encounter with Lucien in the townhouse leads to an offer Elain wasn't expecting, and a readiness to face the future.

🌹High Infidelity by tswaney17

Summary: Elain and Azriel are fuck buddies, nothing more. But when a word slips out in the heat of the moment, their entire relationship comes to a screeching halt.

🌹Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince by yourstarsmyscars

Summary: Fresh off a brutal break-up, Elain is in need of a distraction. A casual fling. One no strings bad idea, with a guy she definitely won't get attached to, so she can finally move on. Azriel has lost count of the number of women who've come to regret meeting him. But while he may be the worst idea Elain has had in a while, he's determined to prove that she won't regret him.

🌹Satin and Steel by airelemental

Summary: Princess/Knight alternate universe. Elain Archeron is on her way to visit her sister, the newly crowned queen of Prythian. With no romantic prospects and a new inheritance of all of her parents' land and most of their wealth, Elain wants nothing more than to lead a quiet life where she's finally in charge of her own destiny.

Upon her arrival, King Rhysand appoints his highest ranking knight, Sir Azriel, as her royal guard and chaperone. She thinks he's a brute and is appalled at the idea of someone following her around everywhere she wishes to go during her stay. He finds her spoiled and can think of a thousand different ways to better spend his time.

🌹Shining Through That Moonless Night by tealeaves_and_rosepetals

Summary: Good intentions went wrong on the night of Solstice, and ever since, Elain and Azriel have struggled through days that felt darker and colder without the joy of the secret love that grew between them. Yet for both of them, a tiny glimmer of hope remains, bright and unyielding.

#azriel x elain #elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel fic

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bones4thecats · 10 months ago

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How Did They Meet Their Genie! S/O?

Type of Writing: #10 - Poll Result Characters: Rollo Flamme and Baul Zigvolt Name: How Did They Meet Their Genie! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: I have rarely, if ever, written for these characters, so they may end up being slightly OOC. Sadly, I had no ideas for Fellow Honest- the guy is hard to write something like this for without it being severely OOC. I also could come up with no ideas for Kifaji, since I couldn't find much information on him, I'm sorry for that. But, do hope you enjoy this my lil bubbles🫧

P.S: The Reader is inspired by a mixture of the original story Genie, Aladdin's Genie, the Live-Action Genie and Jafar's Genie form

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

⛪ Rollo was not amused when he learned some students from Night Raven were arriving at Noble Bell College for the yearly festival. And he was far from happy when he gained knowledge that their two strongest students were coming as well

⛪ That being the Prince, and future heir to the thrown, of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia, and one of the most powerful fae magicians in the world, one considered to be a genie, Y/N L/N

⛪ He stood alongside his secretary and right-hand as the group of magic-users approached, and he caught sight of the supposed genie flying around and messing with a spikey green-haired boy

⛪ Grabbing his handkerchief, he pushed the piece of purple cloth in front of his frowning face, making the two faes cock eyebrows at his actions

⛪ But, it seemed the Prince brushed it off faster than the other fae, as they kept a close eye on him throughout their small tour of the grounds. They also seemed to stay close to a black-haired boy, which he later learned was named Jamil Viper

⛪ Now, normally Rollo did not go out of his way for these magic-users whenever they came by at his school, but for some reason he felt drawn to you more than anything

⛪ He had began to actually speak to you before he realized it. He had asked you about your time at NRC and what your relationship was with the magicless human, despite your fairly obvious hostility to him

" Y/N, I am not quite sure I understand why you are so tense around Sir Flamme. Could you explain the reasoning behind it? "

⛪ Looking at Malleus, you sighed and played with a small blue figurine that you had been gifted by your guardians long ago, and you just handed him a red one as he looked at you with questioning eyes

" I have been told this story for many years, Mal. And it goes like this; Long ago, a young boy fell for a beautiful princess. But, due to their differences in rankings, they could not be together, and seeing the opportunity to gain some better status and power, her father's helper had seen complete red when the man began using a special power to seduce the princess. " " What was this power? " " A magic user. Back then, they were very rare. And very sought-out by men and women alike. Now, once he had gotten a hold of the magic-user, he had begun to trick the princess that he was a prince, in order to win her heart. "

⛪ Rollo stood behind the pillar, wondering on what in Twisted Wonderland you were speaking about? Was this some story from the Scaling Sands that he had not read about?

" What did the King's helper do about the swindler's treachery? " " The only thing he knew how to do; report it once found out. And, once he notified the Sultan, the man was found and handed about, though nobody knows for certain what happened to him. Most likely death. But, for his accomplishment in saving the princess, he was granted a magical lamp, and he used the powers to become Sultan. " " How impressive. Are these figures them? " " They're a form of the story. In there, the Sultan's helper was the enemy and had thrown the princess and Sultan into servitude like he was stuck in. And this blue one that I am holding was the 'good genie' who had been helping the swindler out. "

⛪ Gripping his handkerchief tighter inside his pocket, Rollo began to stroll away, not sparing any thought of you and the Prince of Briar Valley being outside past hours in the field speaking of nonsense

⛪ Once he reached his room, Rollo slammed the door shut as softly as he possibly could before looking around his room in a frenzy. Why did he want to pull that Dragon Fae away from you and escourt you to your room at that moment?

⛪ No matter, he needed to focus on his plan. And nothing, not even someone like you, would be able to change his mind...

🐊 Ever since the war began, there have been many fae and humans alike falling to their shared enemy. Unfortunately, as of late, the humans have been gaining the upper-hand

🐊 This action was leading the Draconia family to improvise by sending in some fae from outside of Briar Valley, and there was a new group of them being added this week

🐊 And these fae were all from the Scaling Sands, a land inhabited by humans, though they chose no side during the war, due to being farther away and thriving on their own without any greed of land catching their minds

🐊 You had dressed in your get-go, that being a dragon's, and set your sights on collaborating your battalion's style of fighting with General Lilia's

🐊 Baul wasn't able to take a simple rest when he heard that you were going to be alone with their leader

🐊 He wanted to trust you, really he did, but you lived somewhere full of humans, you may end up betraying them if you caught sight of someone that you possibly knew

🐊 So, grabbing his mask and uniform, he slapped it on quickly before heading out and hiding behind a tree, concealing his presence from both you and Lilia

🐊 Once he reached where you both resided, he watched with a stink-eye similar to that of a sniper trying to take down one of the most dangerous people in history with one bullet left

" Commander Y/N, if I may ask, how have you lived alongside those humans, those mortals, for so long without an issue? " " It's quite simple, General Vanrouge. I have had many connections to the higher-ups in their society. One being a being from a long time ago, maybe hundreds of years? Huh, my memory of time seemingly has gone down, I apologize. "

🐊 Speaking so formally yet freely was something that Baul had never heard about happening with the General of the Fae army before, how remarkable

🐊 Wait- what was he thinking?! You were a possible enemy! He has to stay focused!

" Do you perhaps remember this being by any chance? " " Ah yes I do. Quite well, actually. I may not remember just how long ago it has been, but I do remember the man with precision. " " Would you mind telling me about this mystery man? " " Of course not. "

🐊 Taking a breath, Baul watched as your hand sputtered out some blue flickers, which forms into smokes and into small figures, one being teal, another being white, then red, blue, orange, purple, and a final resting light tan

" This one, is a woman, a princess from hundreds of years ago. And the small white one was her father, the Sultana and the Sultan. This blue character is a magic-user from way-back-when, our light tan in a swindler, and our red is our main character of this beloved legend and story mashup. Now, the young swindler had come across this magic-user, and he asked if they could put themselves to good use and help him try to sway the princess into a relationship. And, due to magic being a more rarity back then, nobody had suspected anything tricky taking place. Until the red one here, a man now known as the Sorcerer of the Sands, found out about the plot. "

🐊 Sitting up slightly as his shoulders sank down in a relaxed position, Baul found himself listening to the story with just as much attention as he gave to glaring at you from behind

" The Sorcerer of the Sands had eventually gotten enough information and turned the swindler in, leading in the arrest of the young man and eventual fate, one in which nobody knows, though, many believe he was executed for the crime of seducing the princess and plotting both overthrowing the Sultan, basically usurping the thrown, and treason. Now, while the swindler got punished for his actions, the respected-Sorcerer had stood proudly against the Sultan and was granted the object known as a 'magic lamp'. With this lamp, he made the wish to become Sultan. Now, while this story's final ending is shrouded in mystery, some suspect that the swindler broke out and stopped the Vizier from attempting to kill the royal family, while in some the Vizier married the princess and lived happily ever after, and in some others the Vizier had just ruled the land and kept it balanced until his death years later. "

🐊 Baul listened as Lilia sighed deeply, seemingly releasing some stress at hearing the story end fairly happily for the seemingly good-natured Vizier and the ill-intentioned swindler

🐊 Lilia turned to you and patted you on the shoulder as he stood up, shocking one of his right-hands with his words

" You are a good person, Y/N. I expect good things from you, yes? " " You shouldn't expect any less than that, General. " " Have a nice rest, Commander. Good night. " " I wish you the same, sir! "

🐊 Okay, you didn't seem so bad now. But just because you got Lilia to somewhat show trust in you, a Zigvolt is far harder to please, well, that's what he now tells your grand-children, but you get the point

#Twisted Wonderland #Twst #TWST Side Characters #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Twst x Reader #TWST Side Characters x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Fae! Reader #Rollo Flamme #Rollo Flamme x Reader #Baul Zigvolt #Baul Zigvolt x Reader

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