#and the shadow dragons need someone who knows that world. someone who sits in an office and evaluates financial statements

[spindleweedss]

reading a book about the history of money has finally given me a proper idea of what my shadow dragon rook does for a living

[solxamber]

How to Tame Your Dragon - Malleus Draconia x reader

Since you and Malleus have gotten into a relationship, you've become a bona-fide dragon soother. But whenever you fumble, the entirety of NRC faces the consequences.

aka the 7 times you cause ecological disasters and the 1 time it works out for you.

this is one of my favorite works i hope y'all enjoy it too

Instance 1: The Unbirthday Party Fumble

It all started so innocently, as most disasters do.

You were sitting on a bench in the gardens with Malleus, who was in one of his "look at my shiny things" moods. He had decided to show you his prized possessions from his extensive, possibly cursed, hoard. Usually, this was an easy gig. You’d nod, say something like “Wow, so shiny,” and then give him a kiss. Easy peasy.

But not today.

Because today, your brain decided to take a little vacation while your body stayed behind, stuck on autopilot.

You were half-paying attention, your focus more on the distant ruckus over at Heartslabyul’s tea party, where Ace and Deuce were most definitely in the middle of doing something stupid. Riddle was probably screaming about proper fork placement, Trey was juggling a thousand responsibilities, and Cater was... doing whatever Cater does.

You could hear the faint sounds of plates clinking and people panicking about the sugar cubes being uneven. It was practically a symphony of disaster waiting to happen.

Meanwhile, Malleus was holding up what looked like a teapot. But not just any teapot—this thing was ornate. Gleaming, intricate patterns, probably blessed by some ancient fae god of beverages. You didn’t notice any of that, though.

Instead, when Malleus asked in his deep, romantic, “I’m-giving-you-a-piece-of-my-soul” voice, “Do you like it, my treasure?” you waved him off like he’d just shown you a half-eaten sandwich.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Looks fine.”

Silence.

Not just any silence. The kind of silence where the air pressure changes and you suddenly realize you might’ve done something very, very bad.

You blinked, finally looking over at Malleus, and oh no. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed, and a shadow seemed to fall over him—literally. The sky darkened as if the heavens were in on his mood. His grip on the teapot tightened, and you could swear the wind started to howl.

Oh, no no no.

The moment you realized your mistake, the storm was already brewing. Quite literally. The sky went from clear to “about to smite someone” in about two seconds flat. You could feel the temperature drop, and leaves started swirling around like they were auditioning for a role in a natural disaster movie.

You were in for it now.

Meanwhile, at the world’s most cursed tea party:

Riddle was just getting ready to pour the first cup of tea when the wind decided to yeet the tablecloth right off the table. Teacups clattered, pastries took flight, and the entire garden descended into chaos.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE QUEEN’S LAWS—” Riddle screamed, clutching a teapot like it was his last lifeline.

Ace, currently dodging a rogue scone, looked over at the sky. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Is this a Malleus thing?”

Deuce, who was using a sugar bowl as a makeshift helmet, shouted over the wind. “It’s always a Malleus thing! Why do I even ask anymore?!”

Cater, hair blown sideways and desperately trying to keep his phone in hand, was trying to snap a selfie in the chaos. “Guys, this is prime MagiCam content—wait, no, my phone’s gone!” He dove after it as it got carried away in the wind.

Riddle, already on the verge of a meltdown, turned to Trey, who was trying to shield a cake from the incoming storm. “I demand an explanation!”

Trey, forever the calm one, glanced up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the prefect did something to upset Malleus.”

“OF COURSE, THEY DID,” Riddle shrieked, practically levitating with fury. “Why do we suffer every time they breathe near him?!”

“I don’t know, but we need to fix it before Riddle explodes!” Ace said, dodging a flying plate.

Deuce grabbed Ace’s arm. “We need to talk to them! Make them apologize or something!”

And so, in the middle of the flying teapots and pastries of doom, the group sprinted to find you, dodging airborne desserts and Riddle’s wrath.

Back at the epicenter of destruction:

You were still sitting there, eyes wide as you watched Malleus literally brood so hard it summoned a small hurricane. “Uh, Malleus…?”

He didn’t respond. Nope, he was fully in Pouty Dragon Mode™. The sky darkened even more, the wind howling, the trees bending, and you could faintly hear the sound of Ace, Deuce, and the others screaming in the distance.

Your casual dismissal of the teapot had, quite literally, ruined lives.

Before you could say anything else, the chaos squad came barreling toward you like a human avalanche, looking like they’d been through a war zone.

Ace was covered in frosting, Deuce had bits of shattered china stuck in his hair, and Trey was holding onto what looked like the remnants of a cake stand. Cater was still trying to get a selfie in, even though he looked like he’d been through a tornado.

“FIX. THIS.” Ace wheezed, dropping to his knees dramatically. “BEFORE WE ALL DIE.”

“Riddle’s about to combust,” Deuce added, his eyes wide. “Please. We’re begging you.”

Trey just gave you a calm look. “If you don’t make this right soon, I don’t know if we’ll make it to the end of the day.”

You sighed, realizing there was no escape. You’d have to face the storm—literally—and make things right.

Turning back to Malleus, you slid off the bench and stood in front of him, gently tugging on his sleeve. “Malleus?”

His eyes, still stormy, met yours, but he didn’t say anything. The wind continued to howl, the sky still dark.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, your voice soft and apologetic. “I didn’t mean to dismiss your teapot. It’s beautiful, really. I was just…distracted.”

Malleus’s eyes narrowed slightly, but the wind died down just a little. Progress.

“I’d never intentionally dismiss something that’s important to you,” you continued, taking his hand in yours. “Please forgive me? I’ll pay more attention next time, I promise.”

The storm finally started to calm as Malleus’s expression softened. The sky cleared up, and the wind turned into a gentle breeze.

He sighed dramatically, though it was more theatrical than anything. “Very well, my treasure. I suppose I can forgive you this time. But you owe me proper attention.”

Relieved, you grinned and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I give you all the attention you want right now?”

That did it. The storm completely vanished, and Malleus’s mood visibly brightened. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a possessive, yet affectionate embrace. “I suppose that’s acceptable,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head.

Behind you, the chaos squad groaned.

“Oh, sure,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “One cute kiss, and suddenly the hurricane stops. What even is our life?”

“Let’s just never bring up teapots again,” Deuce muttered, shaking bits of pastry out of his hair.

Cater, who had finally managed to get a decent selfie, grinned. “Well, at least we survived!”

You chuckled as Malleus nuzzled into your hair, clearly pleased with your apology. At least for now, disaster had been averted. But something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d have to apologize for accidentally setting off your dragon boyfriend.

But hey, at least you had kisses to fix everything, right?

Instance 2: The compliment conundrum

It started as one of those innocent slip-ups—the kind that makes you wonder why you even opened your mouth in the first place. You were lounging by the side of the spelldrive field, watching NRC’s teams practice. Malleus, busy handling his own royal duties, hadn’t been able to make it to practice today, so you’d spent the afternoon watching Leona and his squad dominate the field.

It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. You were just… appreciating talent, right? And Leona was talented. You couldn’t help but admire the way he effortlessly dodged tackles, sending spells whizzing through the air with precision. The guy was annoying, sure, but he had undeniable skill.

So when you casually mentioned to Jack and Ruggie, “Man, Leona’s got some impressive moves,” you thought nothing of it.

Until you felt the ground crack beneath you.

You froze mid-sentence, glancing around as a creeping, eerie silence settled over the field. The other players stopped in their tracks, confusion spreading across their faces. The once lush, green training grounds were slowly transforming before your very eyes—the grass yellowing, the soil drying, the sky dimming. It was like nature had collectively decided, Nope, we’re out.

Jack blinked at the ground, then at you, his eyes wide with dawning horror. “Did… Did you just—?”

Ruggie, a master of putting two and two together, slapped his hand to his face. “Oh, no. Not again.”

Before you could even ask what was happening, you heard the faintest sound of rumbling in the distance, like some ancient, angry being had woken up from its nap. And that’s when the full weight of your mistake hit you.

You’d praised Leona. And Malleus, who was more possessive than a dragon guarding his hoard, definitely heard you.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, already starting to backpedal. “Oh, crap, crap, crap—”

The drought spread faster, draining every last drop of moisture from the air. The once-pristine spelldrive field now looked like a scene out of some post-apocalyptic desert movie. Cracks snaked across the ground, the once-refreshing breeze now felt like it was straight out of the Sahara, and the remaining players started wheezing from the dry heat.

Leona, of course, was the first to piece things together. He sauntered over, glancing at the parched earth beneath his feet, then back up at you with a deadly glare.

You tried to stammer out an excuse, but Ruggie was already grabbing your arm and yanking you toward the nearest path off the field. Jack, looking somewhere between worried and resigned, trailed after you.

“Listen,” Ruggie said in a panic, “we gotta fix this now, or the whole school’s gonna turn into a wasteland.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you protested as they half-dragged you across the desertified landscape. “It was just a compliment!”

“You can’t just compliment Leona when you’re dating Malleus!” Jack huffed, sweat dripping from his forehead as the oppressive heat intensified. “You should know better by now!”

You felt a bead of sweat trickle down your temple as you tried to keep up with their frantic pace. “I didn’t know he was that possessive!”

“Oh, he is,” Ruggie muttered, glancing nervously at the sky. “And he’s sulking. You know what that means.”

You groaned. Yes, you did know what that meant. A sulking Malleus equaled world-ending storms, natural disasters, and in this case—apocalyptic droughts.

Leona, who had followed you guys, clearly had enough of this nonsense. He stomped up behind you, glaring daggers. “You’ve ruined my field,” he growled, voice dripping with irritation. “Do me a favor and never say anything nice about me again.”

“Don’t worry, Leona,” you sighed, exasperated. “I’ll only insult you from now on. Promise.”

“Good,” Leona grumbled, adjusting his collar. “Now fix your dragon before I lose my mind.”

By the time you reached Malleus, the situation had reached catastrophic levels. The entire island felt like it was one sunny day away from turning into a desert. The sky was an angry, cloudless blue, and even the birds had fled, probably deciding they didn’t want to risk spontaneous combustion.

And there, in the middle of the courtyard, sat your dragon boyfriend, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as you’d ever seen him. His aura was practically radiating misery.

“Malleus,” you called out, panting from the trek across the sun-baked campus.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge your presence, but didn’t say a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowed, and you could practically see the pout written all over his face.

Ruggie gave you a light shove. “Well, go on. Apologize before we all die of thirst.”

You shot him a look, but he wasn’t wrong. Sighing, you stepped closer to Malleus and knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He huffed, his gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. “You praised another.”

“I didn’t realize it was such a big deal,” you said softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it. I only have eyes for you, you know that.”

Malleus remained silent for a moment, but you could feel his mood softening. The tension in the air eased ever so slightly, the heat less intense, the grass no longer crumbling beneath your feet.

“I don’t like sharing your admiration,” he murmured, still not quite looking at you. “Especially with him.”

“Leona’s not a threat,” you chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “He’s too busy napping to notice, anyway.”

That earned a tiny smirk from Malleus, though he was clearly still in sulk mode. You couldn’t help but smile as you nuzzled into his neck, placing little butterfly kisses along his jawline. “Come on… I’ll make it up to you. I’ll praise you for hours if you want. No one is more worthy of my compliments than you.”

That finally did the trick. His stiff posture relaxed, and he let out a deep sigh. “Very well,” he murmured, turning his head to look at you. “I suppose I can forgive you… this time.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his chest. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Malleus, now fully basking in your affection, wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on top of your head. The sky finally returned to normal, the air cooling down, and the earth itself seemed to let out a relieved sigh.

Meanwhile, back on the now-saved-from-death spelldrive field, Leona collapsed onto the cracked ground with an annoyed grunt. “I swear, if they ever break up, I’m moving to a different continent.”

“Honestly, same,” Ruggie groaned, lying down beside him. Jack just nodded in agreement, too tired to even complain.

But as the world finally returned to normal, and you cuddled up against your not-so-grumpy-anymore dragon boyfriend, you couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—you’d be more careful with your compliments from now on.

…Maybe.

Instance 3: Dinner Downpour

It had started out as an innocent evening. Just you, Malleus, and a nice dinner at the Mostro Lounge. You figured it was a good idea—a cozy meal, some quiet time away from the usual chaos. Plus, Malleus had never been to the Lounge before, and you wanted to show him a little piece of what passed for fine dining at NRC.

Everything was going smoothly. The candlelight cast a soft glow over the table, and Malleus seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he occasionally side-eyed the giant aquariums and questionable dishes swimming in ink. You were halfway through your meal when it happened. The moment that would soon be known as The Great Mostro Lounge Flood of the Century.

Malleus, eyes warm and his tone utterly princely, leaned toward you as the waiter left the bill on the table. “Allow me to cover this,” he said, reaching for his wallet—or whatever it was that dragons carry their horde in. “I would like to treat you.”

You, not sensing the danger, waved him off with a smile. “No need, Malleus. I’ve got this.”

Oh no.

If you could rewind time, maybe you would’ve noticed the way his expression faltered ever so slightly. The tiniest furrow of his brow, the faint tightening of his grip on his silverware. But you didn’t. You were oblivious. You, poor unfortunate soul, paid the bill yourself.

And that’s when the first clap of thunder rolled through the building.

It didn’t take long for things to go from zero to we’re-all-gonna-die levels of chaos. The sky outside darkened almost instantly, rain pouring down like the heavens had just decided to empty all their buckets at once. But it wasn’t just rain—oh no, this was a full-blown, hurricane-tier downpour. Lightning flashed, illuminating the shocked faces of the Mostro Lounge patrons as water started seeping in through the windows.

Inside, chaos erupted. The once-elegant ambiance of the Mostro Lounge turned into something out of a disaster movie. Jade was frantically trying to keep the dining area dry with what looked like twenty towels, but the water just kept rising. Floyd was sitting on top of a table, cackling at the sheer absurdity of it all, while Azul was on the verge of a mental breakdown, clutching his ledger to his chest as if it could somehow save him from bankruptcy.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Azul’s voice broke through the chaos as he practically teleported to your side, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you like a maraca.

“I—I don’t know!” you stammered, still processing the fact that the place was flooding. “We were just having dinner!”

“Oh, you were ‘just having dinner,’” Azul mocked, his voice climbing an octave as the water level rose past your ankles. “Sure, just dinner—and now I’m watching my profits swim away!”

Jade appeared next, a suspiciously calm smile on his face despite the absolute catastrophe around him. “You didn’t happen to upset the prince of Briar Valley, did you?”

Floyd leaned in, grinning like a maniac. “Yeah, did ya snub him or somethin’? This is hilarious.”

Your face paled. Oh no. You replayed the scene in your head—the offer to pay, your refusal—and realization hit you like one of the lightning bolts currently striking outside. “Oh my god. He’s upset because I didn’t let him pay.”

“That’s it?!” Floyd burst out laughing, clutching his sides. “All this ‘cause you didn’t let him foot the bill? Man, that’s rich!”

Azul’s eye twitched. “Fix. This. Now.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!” you protested, feeling the water slosh against your calves as the storm outside intensified. “I just wanted to treat him for once!”

“Clearly, that was a mistake,” Jade said, entirely too serene for someone standing in knee-deep water. “I suggest you… rectify it.”

“Rectify it,” Azul echoed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Or I swear I’ll have you and your little dragon both in debt until you’re ancient fossils.”

Floyd, still howling with laughter, gave you a light shove toward the entrance. “Better hurry, Shrimpy, before we gotta start charging people for canoe rentals!”

You rushed outside, braving the storm as the winds whipped around you. The ground was already flooded, rain pelting down so hard you could barely see two feet in front of you. But there, standing in the middle of it all like some tragic figure from a gothic romance novel, was Malleus.

He wasn’t even trying to shield himself from the rain—he just stood there, soaked, staring up at the stormy sky as if summoning the wrath of the heavens. His mood was palpable, the air around him crackling with discontent.

“Malleus!” you called out, running over and nearly slipping in a puddle. “Malleus, wait!”

He glanced down at you, a flash of vulnerability in his eyes quickly masked by his usual regal composure. “I thought… I could treat you. It seems you do not trust me to do even that.”

You winced. He wasn’t angry, not really. He was hurt. You should’ve known better—Malleus was always thinking about how to show you he cared, and this was just one more way for him to do that. And you’d brushed him off without realizing the significance.

“Hey, that’s not it at all,” you said softly, stepping closer and taking his hands in yours. “I just… I wanted to treat you this time. But I didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

The storm rumbled ominously overhead, but you could feel his mood starting to shift.

You squeezed his hands, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry, Malleus. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t appreciate it. You always take such good care of me.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing from his posture. “I simply wished to show you how much I treasure our time together.”

“And I treasure you,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “So how about this—I’ll let you treat me next time. Dinner, ice cream, whatever you want. You’re in charge.”

The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “You promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, kissing him again for good measure. “But for now, maybe we could, uh… ease up on the weather a bit? I think Azul’s about to have a heart attack.”

Malleus chuckled softly, the storm clouds above beginning to break apart as the rain slowed to a drizzle. “Very well. I shall spare them—for now.”

Back inside the Lounge, Azul was clinging to his precious ledger like a lifeline, watching with wide eyes as the floodwaters slowly receded. The place was still a soaked mess, but at least it wasn’t Atlantis anymore.

Floyd, leaning against the bar, gave you a lazy grin as you walked back in, hand-in-hand with Malleus. “Well, looks like you managed to cool down your dragon, huh? Good job, Shrimpy.”

Jade smiled pleasantly, though you could tell there was relief in his gaze. “The Lounge owes you a great debt.”

Azul, drenched and looking like he’d aged ten years, just sighed. “Please. Next time… just let him pay.”

You grinned sheepishly. “Noted.”

Malleus, still holding your hand, glanced down at you with a fond expression. “Shall we continue our evening?”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his affection, even if he had almost accidentally drowned the entire restaurant. “Yeah, let’s go.”

And as you left the Mostro Lounge, water still dripping from the ceiling and Floyd’s laughter echoing behind you, you couldn’t help but think that for all the chaos that came with dating the prince of Briar Valley, it was worth every second.

Instance 4: Deserted Dreams

It all started with an innocent suggestion over breakfast. You and Malleus were sitting at your usual spot in Diasomnia, peacefully munching on breakfast. Things were nice, calm—Malleus was in a good mood, the sun was shining, and there hadn’t been any catastrophic magical incidents for a solid two days.

But, of course, you just had to ruin it.

"So," you said, casually buttering a slice of toast, "I was thinking… maybe for our next vacation, instead of going to Briar Valley again, we could head over to the Scalding Sands? I heard Kalim raving about the heat and all the festivals, and I thought it might be fun to experience a little warmth for a change."

Malleus, who had been sipping his tea, froze. He looked at you, his eyes wide and a bit too intense. "The Scalding Sands?" he repeated slowly.

"Yeah, you know—sun, sand, maybe a beach or two. Something different!" You smiled, clearly not reading the massive red flags flying in the air. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, Briar Valley is great and all, but we always go there. I thought a change of scenery would be nice!"

And that, was when the Dorms of Scarabia and Diasomnia turned into a hellish desert wasteland.

It started slowly—just a bit of extra heat creeping into the room, making you fidget in your seat. Then it escalated. The temperature spiked dramatically, and before you knew it, the dorm felt like someone had thrown open the gates to the underworld and invited the sun to personally burn it all down. You swore you could hear the sound of sand shifting beneath your feet, though you were still indoors. Indoors, for crying out loud!

Malleus sat in silence, clearly displeased. His usual dark, moody aura was now tinged with the kind of slow-boiling frustration that made you realize: you’d made a huge mistake.

Just as you were about to apologize and backpedal your way out of the desertification of Diasomnia and Scarabia, a loud crash echoed from outside, followed by a chorus of complaints.

You stepped out of the dorm and were met with chaos. The whole area around Diasomnia had transformed into an arid, sweltering desert. The grass? Gone. The trees? Withered. The nice, cool breeze that used to blow through? Now replaced by blistering heat waves. Students were dragging themselves around, sweating profusely as the once lush grounds became a scorching wasteland.

At the heart of the chaos stood Kalim, as cheerful as ever, while a very sweaty and very done Jamil stood nearby, looking like he had reached the end of his rope.

Jamil spotted you immediately and marched over, steam practically rising off his skin. “What did you do?!” he hissed, looking like he was five seconds away from spontaneous combustion.

"I—" you stammered, glancing at Kalim, who was happily waving a fan like he was at a resort.

"Isn’t this great?!" Kalim chirped, smiling ear to ear. "It feels just like home! Now we can have all the desert parties we want! Thanks for the heatwave!"

You blinked. "Um… you’re welcome?"

"No," Jamil interjected, glaring at you like you’d personally set him on fire. “Don’t thank them! What possessed you to turn Scarabia into a furnace?!”

You grimaced, wiping sweat from your brow. “It’s not my fault! I just suggested we vacation in the Scalding Sands instead of Briar Valley and—"

"You did what?!" Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. "So because you didn’t want to vacation in Briar Valley, this happens? Do you know how long it’s going to take to get the dorm back to normal? Or the fact that I’m now stuck babysitting Kalim in what feels like the surface of the sun?"

Kalim, still oblivious to the suffering around him, beamed. “You should make up with Malleus! Then maybe we can have two vacations!”

Jamil’s eye twitched.

It didn’t take long before you were escorted (dragged) back to Malleus, courtesy of a very sunburned Jamil and a still-chipper Kalim. They deposited you at the door to Diasomnia, giving you the kind of look that screamed fix this, or we’ll make you regret it.

Sighing, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unsurprisingly, it was even hotter indoors than it had been outside. Malleus was sitting in the corner of the common room, his arms crossed and his gaze distant, like he was contemplating the deep mysteries of life—or brooding over your vacation suggestion. Probably the latter.

“Malleus?” you called softly, approaching him carefully as the air around him practically sizzled with residual magic.

He didn’t respond, still looking like a dragon that had just been told his gold stash was getting replaced with copper coins.

You sighed and knelt down in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you said, resting a hand on his knee. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just thought it’d be nice to see a new place, but if you want to go back to Briar Valley, that’s totally fine. We can go wherever you want.”

Malleus blinked, finally looking down at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. “You wished to travel somewhere unfamiliar,” he murmured, his voice low. “I should have taken your desires into account. But… the thought of you preferring another land over mine… it unsettled me.”

You blinked. “Wait, is that what this is about? Malleus, I love Briar Valley! I just wanted to try something new, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to go back. We could go anywhere, and I’d be happy as long as I’m with you.”

He softened even more, the heat in the room fading as his magic began to relax. “You mean that?”

You smiled and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course I do.”

His arms, once tense, reached out to pull you into his lap, holding you close as if the idea of you slipping away to some other land without him had weighed far too heavily on his mind. You snuggled into him, feeling the last traces of heatwave melt away into nothing but warmth and comfort.

Malleus nuzzled his face into your hair, his voice a soft rumble. “Then we shall go wherever your heart desires. As long as we are together.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “Okay, deal. But, uh, maybe we avoid any more heatwave-related disasters? Jamil might actually combust next time.”

Malleus chuckled softly, his mood lightening as he held you close. “Very well. I shall spare them from further torment… this time.”

And as you cuddled into him, the remnants of the desert wasteland outside slowly returning to normal, you couldn’t help but think that as long as you had Malleus (and could keep him happy), the world—weather catastrophes included—would be just fine.

Instance 5: Fashion Fiasco

You and Malleus were at one of Vil’s fashion shows, sitting in the audience with everyone else as Vil strutted his stuff on the runway, looking absolutely flawless as per usual. The lights sparkled, the music boomed, and Vil practically radiated beauty and grace in an outfit that could only be described as something plucked straight from a dream.

"Wow," you breathed, eyes wide as you watched Vil pose dramatically at the end of the runway. "Vil really does look amazing, doesn’t he? Like, how is anyone supposed to compete with that level of perfection?"

Malleus, sitting beside you, went absolutely still.

It didn’t register right away. You were too busy marveling at Vil’s next ensemble to notice Malleus stiffening beside you, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. But as the next model waltzed down the runway, you felt a sudden chill in the air. Literally.

You blinked. Was it just you, or was it… colder? You glanced up at the ceiling, frowning as tiny snowflakes started to drift down from nowhere. The air grew icy, your breath visible as the temperature plummeted in mere seconds.

"What the—" You stood up, just in time to see the entire fashion show being transformed into a literal winter wonderland. Snow was now falling heavily, frosting over the runway, the lights, and, most importantly, Vil’s perfect hair.

The shriek that followed was one of pure, unbridled horror.

“No! My HAIR!” Vil screeched, desperately clutching his head as snowflakes clung to his golden locks, which were slowly wilting under the weight of the ice. “This is a disaster!”

Models fled the scene, their designer clothes dragging through snowdrifts that were rapidly accumulating on stage. The music cut off, the audience panicked, and Vil looked like he was about five seconds away from declaring the end of the world.

Amidst the chaos, Rook Hunt stood in the middle of the snowy storm, spinning in circles with glee. “Magnifique!” he cried, twirling with open arms as if he were auditioning for a Broadway production of Frozen. “The raw beauty of nature meets the elegance of fashion—oh, how the world has blessed us with this miracle of frost!”

“ROOK!” Vil screeched again, eyes wide and wild as he tried—and failed—to maintain some sense of composure. “This is NOT a miracle! This is a CATASTROPHE! My show—my hair!”

Epel, looking somewhere between terrified and confused, rushed up to you, nearly slipping on the snow-covered floor in his haste. “We need your help!” he gasped, grabbing your arm and shaking it with the desperation of someone who knew what was at stake here. “You have to do something! Malleus is causing the storm!”

You blinked, still processing the fact that this wasn’t just some freak weather event but a full-on emotional meltdown from your very moody fae boyfriend.

“Malleus is… mad?” you asked, finally connecting the dots.

“Of course he’s mad!” Epel huffed, snowflakes clinging to his own purple hair. “You complimented Vil! Now he thinks you like Vil more than him! We’re all gonna freeze to death if you don’t fix it!”

“Oh… oh no.”

It took a few minutes (and a shove from a panicked Vil) to find Malleus, who had retreated to the far corner of the room, looking like a grumpy snow dragon with his arms crossed and snowflakes swirling around him. His expression was dark, brooding, and way too dramatic for someone who was causing a blizzard in the middle of a fashion show.

You approached cautiously, trying not to slip on the ice that was now coating the floor. “Malleus?” you called softly, inching closer. “Are you… okay?”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I see you were quite taken with Vil’s appearance today.”

You blinked, a bit thrown off by the sheer seriousness in his tone. “Uh, I mean… yeah, Vil’s always beautiful. But, um, you know that’s just how he is. It’s his whole thing.”

Malleus’s frown deepened. “So you find him more beautiful than me.”

Oh. Oh.

You nearly facepalmed at the realization. “Malleus, no, that’s not what I meant!” you rushed to say, waving your hands in a flustered manner. “Vil is beautiful, but you—you’re, like, otherworldly! You know, fae beauty and all that. No one could possibly compare!”

Malleus eyed you warily, his lips pursed. “So… you do not prefer him over me?"

“Of course not!” you said quickly, stepping closer to place a hand on his arm. “You’re the most beautiful person I know. No one comes close to your level of magnificence, I swear.”

There was a long, heavy pause. Then, ever so slowly, the storm began to die down. The snowflakes stopped falling, the icy chill in the air dissipated, and the temperature returned to normal. Malleus’s expression softened, his moody sulk fading as he looked down at you with a much gentler gaze.

“Is that truly how you feel?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

You smiled up at him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Of course, Malleus. You’re my favorite, always.”

Malleus visibly brightened at that, his usual regal aura returning as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a warm embrace. “Very well, then. I shall forgive this transgression. But only because you have reassured me of your affections.”

You giggled, snuggling into his chest. “I’ll make sure to tell you more often how beautiful you are.”

Vil then walks directly up to you and stares you down. "If you're done wrecking my show, could ypu please keep your dragon in check?"

All you can do is grin sheepishly at him.

Instance 6: Gaming Shenanigans

It all started because of that one last raid. You and Idia were deep in an epic gaming marathon, tackling a boss so difficult that even Idia—self-proclaimed gaming god—had to break out his limited-edition controller. It was all good fun, hours flying by without you even noticing, as you spammed attacks and worked together like the perfect gaming duo you were.

That is, until Idia hit you with a question that made your stomach drop.

"So, uh, aren't you supposed to, like... do something tonight?" Idia asked, mid-battle. His voice was a little too casual, almost like he already knew the answer but was waiting for you to figure it out yourself.

You froze for a split second, still pressing buttons but no longer fully paying attention. Something... tonight? What could he—

Oh no.

You had plans tonight. With Malleus.

Specifically, your nightly walks around campus, which had become somewhat of a ritual. Every night, you’d stroll through the darkened grounds, hand-in-hand, talking about anything and everything. It was Malleus’s favorite part of the day—something he eagerly looked forward to.

And you’d… forgotten.

Your eyes darted to your phone, which was lying face down on the desk, completely ignored for the last several hours. You didn’t even need to check it to know what you’d find: missed calls, unread messages, probably a voicemail or two from Malleus, wondering where you were.

"Oh no," you whispered, voice barely audible over the sounds of explosions and battle cries on screen.

"Wait, what?" Idia’s character paused for a second as he glanced at you. "Did you just say 'oh no'? What 'oh no'? Are we talking minor 'oh no' or, like, 'I've-angered-a-final-boss-oh-no'?"

You gulped, heart sinking as you realized just how much trouble you were in. "Um... the second one. Definitely the second one."

Before Idia could even react, the room went dark. The power cut out so fast, you barely had time to process it. The glow of the screens, the hum of electronics—all gone, leaving only the soft pitter-patter of rain against the window.

Idia's horrified gasp echoed through the sudden silence.

"No. No, no, no, no, no—this can’t be happening! We were in the middle of a raid!” His hands flew to his hair, the blue flames flickering wildly as panic set in. "Dude, you forgot your dragon?!"

The color drained from your face as the gravity of the situation fully hit. “I—um—got distracted?”

Idia’s eyes widened, and he stood up so fast his chair rolled backwards. "Distracted?! You forgot about your nightly walks with the dragon fae, and now we’re sitting in a power outage caused by his emotional spiral?!”

In the faint glow of Idia’s flame-lit hair, you saw Ortho zip into the room, looking far too calm given the circumstances. “I detected a sudden shift in weather patterns around campus. It seems like the storm has caused a widespread blackout. Should I assume it’s related to Malleus Draconia’s emotional state?”

"YES!" Idia practically screeched, pointing at you in betrayal. "They ditched Malleus for gaming, and now we’re all suffering the consequences! Ortho, tell them to fix it, please! I beg you!”

Ortho turned to you with his usual chipper smile. “I suggest you go to Malleus and make amends before the entire campus loses power. I’ve already calculated a 98% chance that further emotional distress will result in structural damage to the dorm.”

Idia groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is why you never piss off boss-level boyfriends. It’s just common sense.”

So, that’s how you found yourself trudging through the stormy night, rain soaking your clothes as you made your way to find Malleus. The lightning flashed overhead, thunder rumbling ominously as you approached the usual meeting spot for your nightly walks.

And there he was—standing alone, looking very much like the picture of heartbreak. His tall figure was framed by the pouring rain, his expression a perfect blend of hurt and brooding. The storm seemed to swirl around him, almost as if it were a physical manifestation of his emotions.

“Malleus,” you called out, rushing toward him, your voice barely audible over the sound of rain. “I’m so sorry!”

He turned slowly, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You did not answer my calls.”

“I know, I know! I got caught up in a game with Idia, and I didn’t check my phone, and—well, now we have a blackout.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, his gaze softening just a fraction. “You left me waiting, and the storm came.”

You winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to forget about our walk. I love spending time with you—I swear.”

Malleus let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “I do not wish to be a burden to you.”

“Burden?” you echoed, stepping closer until you were right in front of him, the rain pouring down between you. “Malleus, you’re not a burden. I love our walks. I love spending time with you. I just… lost track of time. That’s all.”

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound being the rain hitting the ground. Then, to your surprise, Malleus looked away, a faint hint of vulnerability in his expression. “Do you… truly mean that?”

Without thinking, you reached up, gently cupping his face in your hands. “Of course I do. There’s no one I’d rather be with.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, and slowly—so slowly—the storm began to quiet. The rain lessened, the wind died down, and the oppressive atmosphere that had settled over the campus lifted. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if looking for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he finally let out a soft chuckle, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint smile.

“You always manage to calm me,” he murmured, leaning into your touch.

You smiled back, feeling warmth spread through your chest despite the cold rain. “I guess I’m just good at soothing dragons.”

Malleus raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Perhaps.”

The rain had stopped entirely by now, leaving only a light mist in the air. You let out a relieved sigh, brushing some stray raindrops off Malleus’s cheek before standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I’ll never forget our walks again,” you whispered against his lips, earning a quiet hum of approval from him.

“I shall hold you to that,” he replied, his voice warm with affection. “Now, shall we take that walk?”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with his. The world felt calmer now, the storm gone, replaced by the soft glow of moonlight breaking through the clouds. Malleus’s mood had lifted entirely, and as the two of you strolled through the now-quiet campus, you couldn’t help but feel content.

And, of course, Idia and Ortho’s screens flickered back to life, much to their relief.

Instance 7: Dessert Disaster

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were about to partake in a picnic with none other than Malleus, Lilia, Silver, and Sebek. Everything was perfect. The blanket was laid out beneath a sprawling tree, food arranged carefully across it—courtesy of Malleus himself, who had spent hours in the kitchen the night before, preparing what he considered to be the pièce de résistance: a pie.

Not just any pie. No, this was a Malleus Draconia-crafted masterpiece. The filling was made from rare berries he’d harvested himself, the crust baked to a perfect golden brown. You could practically smell the love (and maybe a little lightning) that had gone into it.

Malleus, with a glint of pride in his eyes, carefully handed you a slice. "I hope it meets your expectations, my love."

You eagerly took a bite, eyes widening as the flavors exploded on your tongue. It was amazing. No, better than amazing—it was downright phenomenal. How did he even manage to bake something this good? A prince of darkness and a master chef? This was unfair.

"This slaps," you declared, totally unaware of the impending doom those words were about to unleash.

The moment the words left your mouth, you noticed a visible shift in Malleus’s expression. The proud smile he’d worn just seconds ago faltered, his brow furrowing in confusion. His green eyes darkened, clouds suddenly appearing overhead. You could feel the electricity in the air as the temperature dropped.

"I see," Malleus murmured, voice tight. "So… you dislike it."

Wait. What?

You blinked, realization dawning far too slowly. Oh no.

Before you could correct him, Malleus was already raising his hand, a faint crackle of magic sparking between his fingers. You could practically hear the thunder rumbling in the distance as he stared down at the pie slice in your hand, preparing to smite the poor, innocent pastry.

"No, no, no, no—wait!" You waved your arms frantically, standing up so fast you nearly tripped over the picnic blanket.

Sebek, meanwhile, had already leapt to his feet, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "How dare you insult Master Malleus’s baking?!" he shouted, fists clenched. "His skill is unmatched, and yet you have the audacity to call his creation—"

"Sebek." Silver’s voice, calm but firm, interrupted the impending tirade. He was still sitting, but his eyes were half-open now, watching the situation unfold with mild concern. "They didn’t mean it that way."

Lilia, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was absolutely delighted by the chaos unfolding, his laughter ringing out across the clearing. "Oh, this is too good!" he cackled, practically rolling on the blanket. "I haven’t seen this much excitement at a picnic in centuries! You modern humans and your strange expressions never fail to entertain!"

You shot him a look that screamed, Please stop encouraging this.

Silver, bless his soul, finally spoke up again, this time turning his attention to you. "You might want to explain before the weather gets worse." He nodded toward the now very ominous-looking clouds gathering above Malleus.

Right. Explaining. You could do that.

You turned back to Malleus, who still looked like he was contemplating whether to zap the pie or not. You could tell his feelings were hurt—his brow was furrowed, his lips set in a tight line. And the thought of him feeling like that, all because of a misunderstanding, made your heart clench.

"Malleus," you said, stepping closer and reaching for his hand. "When I said ‘this slaps,’ I meant it’s really good. Like, insanely good. Amazing. Best pie I’ve ever had."

Malleus’s stormy expression faltered slightly, though the dark clouds remained. "But you said it ‘slaps.’"

"That’s modern slang," you explained, gently squeezing his hand. "It’s a compliment. I promise."

Malleus blinked, the magic at his fingertips dissipating as he processed your words. "So… you enjoyed it?"

"Absolutely. You knocked it out of the park with this pie." You gave him your most reassuring smile. "I could eat the whole thing."

The storm clouds began to thin, sunlight peeking through once more. Malleus tilted his head, considering this new information, and slowly—very slowly—a smile returned to his face.

"It pleases me to hear that," he said, his voice softening.

Meanwhile, Sebek was still standing there, sputtering indignantly. "W-Well, if that’s what they meant, then… of course Master Malleus’s pie is the best! I knew that all along!"

Lilia, still chuckling, waved a dismissive hand at Sebek. "Oh, calm down, boy. No harm done. Besides, now we know modern slang! What other fascinating phrases do you have, I wonder?"

Silver sighed, finally sitting up properly. "Maybe let’s avoid any more slang for today."

With the situation calming down, you took the opportunity to lean in closer to Malleus, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I’m really sorry for the confusion," you murmured. "You’re an amazing baker, and your pie is delicious. I meant that, okay?"

Malleus’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly at the affection, and he gave a small nod. "I believe you."

Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you pressed another kiss to his lips, slow and tender, savoring the warmth of his skin and the way his hand gently squeezed yours in return. The last of the clouds above you finally cleared, leaving the sky blue and bright once more. The storm was over, and everything was at peace again.

"Shall we enjoy the rest of our picnic, then?" Malleus asked, his voice much lighter now.

You nodded enthusiastically, sitting back down beside him. "Absolutely. And just so we’re clear—your food? Total banger."

Malleus raised a brow, clearly still unfamiliar with the term but now much more accepting of your strange modern ways. "I see. I shall take that as a compliment."

Sebek, still recovering from his earlier outrage, grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t care. Lilia was still snickering, Silver was finally getting comfortable again, and Malleus was happy. Everything was right in the world.

And hey, now you knew—if you ever wanted to spice things up at a picnic, all it took was a little modern slang.

Instance 8: Destruction of NRC (Well, almost)

Crowley’s “magnanimous nature” was, quite frankly, killing you. Whether it was sorting mountains of paperwork, being sent on endless errands, or handling Grim’s regular chaos, you were exhausted. Every muscle in your body ached, your eyes had dark circles deeper than any pit, and you were pretty sure you were on your third day of functioning on nothing but caffeine and sheer spite.

Grim, bless his fiery little heart, watched you from his perch on your bed, tail flicking in irritation as you barely managed to drag yourself into Ramshackle after another long, thankless day.

“Ugh, henchhuman! You look like death warmed over,” Grim sniffed, narrowing his eyes at you. “How long do you plan on letting that featherbrained Crowley walk all over you?”

You groaned, flopping face-first into your pillow. “As long as it takes to survive this semester, Grim. No one else is going to deal with his nonsense. Not like I have a choice.”

Grim was silent for a moment, watching you with uncharacteristic concern. Then, in a low mumble, he said, “Well, I’ve had enough. You’re my henchhuman, and I won’t let him destroy you.”

You thought Grim was just being dramatic. But when you woke up the next morning to the sound of distant thunder rumbling ominously across the sky, you had a very, very bad feeling.

By the time you made it to NRC, the situation was in full swing. You arrived just in time to witness Crowley practically on his knees, looking like a man who had stared death in the face and lived to tell the tale—barely.

The sky above NRC was pitch black, clouds swirling and crackling with magic as the wind howled through the campus. A storm of epic proportions had descended, and it wasn’t just any storm. This was a Malleus Draconia-grade storm. The kind that didn’t just bring rain or wind—it brought devastation, and everyone was cowering indoors, peeking through windows, afraid to go outside.

Crowley spotted you immediately, rushing over with his cape flapping dramatically behind him as he stumbled, nearly slipping in the mud.

“Please,” he cried, hands clutching your shoulders as if you were his last lifeline. “Please, you must calm him down! I beg of you, prefect, do something!”

You raised a brow, half-expecting some pitiful excuse, but the Headmaster, in all his avian glory, had gone straight to the begging stage. “What did you do this time?” you sighed, knowing it had to be his fault.

“I did nothing! Absolutely nothing! Well, perhaps I’ve… been a little harsh on you, but that’s no reason for him to destroy the entire campus!” Crowley wailed, looking pitiful as a gust of wind nearly knocked him off balance.

“I’ll pay you! I’ll pay you an actual wage! I’ll give you a budget to renovate Ramshackle, and I’ll personally sponsor your vacation! Just please—stop him before there’s nothing left of Night Raven College!”

You blinked. Did… did you just get a salary offer? And a vacation? And a renovation budget? This was new.

Before you could process the sheer absurdity of the situation, Professor Crewel passed by with his coat dramatically billowing in the wind. “Honestly,” he muttered under his breath, “about time that birdbrain faced some consequences for his incompetence.”

Professor Trein, walking with his trusty feline Lucius, shook his head gravely. “At this point, the Headmaster deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“Do you not see the storm?!” Crowley shrieked, pointing to the lightning that was now dangerously close to striking the bell tower.

Both professors exchanged a look before continuing on their way, Crewel muttering something about how this was Crowley’s mess to fix.

You couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction seeing the Headmaster squirm. But at the same time, NRC was at risk of being blown off the map if you didn’t act soon. And judging by the way Grim was laughing maniacally in the corner, proudly declaring how he “fixed” your problems, this was going to be on you to clean up.

With a sigh, you gave Crowley a nod. “Fine. I’ll talk to him. But if you go back on any of those promises—”

“I won’t!” Crowley promised, hands clasped as if in prayer. “I swear on the very foundation of this school, you will be compensated!”

You rolled your eyes but turned on your heel to head toward Diasomnia. The storm seemed to know you were coming, the wind parting just enough to allow you passage. The moment you stepped into the courtyard, the thunder seemed to quiet, though lightning still flashed ominously in the distance.

And there, standing at the center of it all, was Malleus. His expression was dark, eyes glowing faintly as he stared up at the storm he’d summoned. His hands were clasped behind his back, and even with his composed stance, you could sense the simmering frustration beneath the surface.

You approached carefully, calling out softly, “Malleus?”

His head turned slightly at the sound of your voice, though he didn’t fully look at you. “Ah, my love. I see you’ve arrived.”

You moved closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Grim told you what’s been going on, didn’t he?”

“I cannot stand to see you work yourself to exhaustion for that foolish crow,” Malleus muttered, still staring at the storm. “He takes advantage of your kindness. It is unforgivable.”

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. He was genuinely upset—for you. But, you also couldn’t let NRC be reduced to rubble, and you needed to calm him down before it got worse.

With a soft chuckle, you stepped in front of him, gently cupping his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I appreciate how much you care about me, but you don’t have to destroy the school over this.”

Malleus’s eyes finally met yours, the storm above softening ever so slightly. “But you’re suffering.”

“I was,” you admitted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “But not anymore. Crowley’s going to make it up to me—he promised me a wage, a renovation budget for Ramshackle, and a vacation.”

That seemed to catch his attention, the storm clouds above beginning to dissipate. “A vacation?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, leaning up to brush another kiss against his cheek. “In fact, I was going to ask if you’d like to come with me.”

Malleus blinked, his earlier frustration melting into a look of surprise—and then, a small, pleased smile tugged at his lips. The storm overhead faded into nothing, the sky returning to its usual clear blue.

“I would be honored,” he said softly, pulling you closer to him. “A vacation, just the two of us. That sounds… delightful.”

You grinned, pressing a final kiss to his lips, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “It’s a date, then.”

And just like that, the storm was over. NRC was safe, and more importantly, you had managed to calm your dragon—and score a well-deserved vacation in the process.

As for Crowley? Well, you’d make sure to enjoy every moment of watching him squirm while you cashed in those promises.

Masterlist

[pocketjoong]

Fashionable Fate

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You go to a launch event for a fashion line and end up seeing your boyfriend there.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING): Model!Hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. smut. fashion au. established relationship. nsfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS): joong and reader are whipped for each other. some angst. smut. hj giving reader a handjob! Not beta-read. Not even proofread tbh.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT): 3k-ish

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (A/N): I wrote this a LONG time ago and it's been sitting in my drafts for more than a year now... I don't honestly know where I was going with this one so... the ending might seem rushed, idk? Anyways, pls rb if you like it!

You’re glad you decided to attend the after-party for a launch event of a well-known designer. Perched on a stool at the bar, tucked away in the shadows, you find yourself captivated by him. He moves through the crowd with the same ease he wormed into your heart, greeting everyone like old friends, immersing himself in each conversation. It's as if he's the sun, radiating warmth and kindness, creating a safe haven for those around him.

You watch in awe as he lights up the room, becoming the centre of attention without even trying. There's something magnetic about him, drawing people in like moths to a flame. An involuntary smile graces your lips when he laughs at something said by the waiter who brings him a flute of champagne. And when he raises his hand to grab the stem of the glass, you suck in a breath when you notice the ring he’s wearing—a jade band encircled by a golden dragon that weaves in and out of sight. It warms your heart how he never takes it off, even when he walks for other brands.

Your eyes follow his hand as he brings the flute to the fullness of his lips and licks them before nodding at whatever the model he’s talking to is saying. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose to complete his fit, he looks regal, like a prince who lost his way and ended up at the wrong party despite being dressed in a satin shirt that is tucked neatly into his pants.

As if aware of your gaze on him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours effortlessly. His eyes widen a bit as if noticing you for the first time during the course of the night. It probably is, for you had just arrived a few minutes ago and made a beeline for the bar; you needed a drink in your system before you could even think of mingling with the guests in the pretentious world of high fashion—a world you are a part of as well.

He excuses himself, not caring that he just cut off someone in the middle of the sentence and saunters over to you, only stopping mid-stride to put his glass of half-finished champagne on a table. When he reaches you, he smiles. The warmth of his gaze is the sun itself, igniting your soul in a way only he can. The closer he gets to you, the more his walls seem to lower—something that has always been reserved for you and only you. You wonder if he can feel it, the pounding of your heart and the way warmth blossoms in your chest every time you find yourself being the centre of his attention. Maybe he does, after all, if the way his smile gets wider is anything to go by.

“Starlight,” he greets you, bending slightly to slot his lips against yours in a soft kiss. He tastes like chocolate and champagne, and you find yourself chasing his lips when you break away from each other. Hongjoong smiles giddily, pressing his soft lips against yours once more and releasing a pleased hum when you suck lightly at his bottom lip. His knuckles come to graze your cheek when you lean away, a feather-light touch that leaves trails of fire in its wake, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I didn’t know I’d be here, either,” you smile up at him, gazing into his caramel eyes hidden behind the slightly tinted lenses of the glasses he’s wearing. You notice that the crystals stuck beneath his right eye for the runway are still there, “Ella convinced me to go; something about being someplace that’s not my office or our apartment and getting a break from breaking my back at the workstation.”

Hongjoong chuckles, the sound reminds you of the smoothness of silk underneath your touch. Your fingers reach upwards to adjust his collar, a couple of buttons at his chest are undone, and the shirt is a bit too skewed to the left much to your distaste. When you tug at his shirt, it causes another round of fond chuckles to leave his lips, “It’s not your job, not here, not tonight.”

You shrug, moving the collar a bit so that the pendant he’s wearing can be seen properly, “Old habits die hard, mon chéri. I’ll not have you looking less than perfect even in the after-party of another brand. After all, just because you do shows for other brands doesn’t change the fact that you’re the face of La Vie en Rose.”

“Well, there’s no other place I’d rather be, as the face of your brand, your muse, or your lover. I don’t care as long as long as I get to be beside you,” Hongjoong whispers, brushing his nose against yours, his smile bright enough to rival the sun. At that moment, as you drown in his affection while he smiles boyishly, you are reminded that despite your achievements, despite the two of you being a force to reckon with in the fashion industry, you’re just two people in love.

“I’d not have it any other way, Joong,” you smile and then glance down at his hand, which has found a purchase against your waist. “I’m surprised Miyeon let you wear the ring.”

He snorts, finally settling down on the empty bar stool on your right. Hongjoong picks up the whiskey glass you had been nursing before he walked up to you and takes a long sip, humming in appreciation when the smooth taste hits his tongue, “Well, it was either she let me wear it or not get me to agree to the show. The lack of response to her ready-to-wear Fall collection after I refused to model for her show a few months back changed her mind.”

“You're evil,” you shake your head despite the warmth that blossoms in your heart. You know he knows how much it means to you, him not taking off the ring you painstakingly worked on—a gift for your second anniversary as a couple. You still remember the way his eyes teared up when he opened the jewellery box, at a loss for words as he studied the intricate detailing of the ring. But when he noticed the engraving on the inside, the lyrics to what you had dubbed your song, a sob broke free, and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow, thanking you over and over again with each press of his lips.

Hongjoong shrugs, allowing you to pluck the glass from his hand. You look at him from above the rim of the glass as you take a sip, biting back a smirk at the way his gaze lingers at your lips and moves downwards towards your neck as you swallow. When he looks back up to meet your eyes, you can't help but notice how they've darkened considerably.

You wake up to the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops on the windows. A cursory glance at the digital clock tells you it is past 6 a.m., too early for you to be awake. You can tell it has been raining for a while from the way the windows have fogged up. It’s chilly outside, you’re sure of it, but it’s toasty and warm in the room, mostly thanks to the way you’re snugly wrapped in a thick comforter, your limbs tangled with Hongjoong’s. He’s always warm, your personal little heater wherever you go.

You can’t help but smile at how the morning mirrors the day you met Hongjoong all those years ago; both of you were merely teenagers hoping to make your mark in a cruel world, stumbling through the days in search of your own path.

You walk along the Han River, trying to clear your head after the disaster that was today. You close your eyes to feel the breeze flitting across your face. You slept through your alarm, missed the train and the bus, and spilt coffee all over your white blouse. By the time you finally made it to the office, things went from bad to worse. Most of your designs were rejected, and then your computer crashed while you were writing a report for the head designer. Seven pages of work were gone in an instant.

Just when you thought the day couldn’t get any worse, the head designer dumped a huge new project on you that ate up the rest of your evening. You ended up staying late, and then the head designer had the audacity to take credit for your work during the emergency meeting with the organisers.

Despite being exhausted and frustrated, you take a detour and walk along the Han River for the sake of your own sanity. Little did you know that decision would come to bite you in your backside. Within minutes, the sky opens up and unleashes a torrent of freezing rain upon you, soaking you from head to toe. With a resigned sigh, you turn back towards the nearest bus stop, hoping to get home before the cold seeps into your bones.

But the universe has other plans. Halfway there, the wind picks up, howling through the trees and sending shivers down your spine. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself, trying desperately to generate some warmth. It's no use—you’re shaking like a leaf, teeth chattering together. Suddenly, the rain abruptly stops. You blink in disbelief, looking up to see that mere feet away, raindrops are still falling steadily. Confused, you look up, and your breath catches in my throat.

There, holding an umbrella above his head, is the most gorgeous boy you've ever laid eyes on—and that’s saying something because you work with models all day. Your gaze locks with his, and he gives you a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” his voice is smooth, you note. It reminds you of the warmth and richness of hot chocolate, and it is as sweet as one, too. “I just—you were walking in the rain, and since we seem to be going in the same direction, I’d feel like a horrible person if I didn’t at least do something, especially because you are shivering.”

You tilt your head, blinking up at him in confusion, wondering if people can be this kind. It has been a while since someone was nice to you without wanting something from you. You can’t help but tear up a bit, his kindness making your heart clench after the horrid day you’ve had.

“Thank you,” you say, but your voice breaks, making the boy gasp. His eyes widen, and he stutters out an apology, causing you to clear your throat. “I’m sorry, just—I had a horrible day, and your consideration sort of… made me tear up.”

“Oh? I don’t mean to overstep or anything, but you must work with terrible people if something as trivial as me sharing my umbrella made you so emotional.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Something like that. Though working in the fashion industry makes you kinda mean… especially with all the deadlines.”

“Oh, wow,” you can tell your answer is something he wasn’t expecting. “You work in the fashion industry too?”

“Too?” You frown, staring at him inquisitively.

“I’m a model, I’m still doing smaller shows right now, but I hope that I can walk for big brands one day,” he stares directly at you now that you’re at the bus stop. He can see you better now that you don’t need to worry about walking or getting drenched in the rain. You notice then that his caramel eyes are enchanting; there is a fire in them that you seem to have lost working under the head designer.

Sensing his curiosity, you decide to give him an answer, “I work for Aria…”

The male gasps, eyes shining like the stars in the night sky at the brand name that leaves your lips, “I bet you are very talented to work at Aria. Have you ever thought of starting your own label?”

You smile wistfully, “I have. I still have to learn a lot before I do that, though.”

“Well, I hope you get to do that,” his smile is dazzling, but his lips form a pout as he mulls over his next words. “Um… Would it be weird if I asked you to let me model for your label if you decide to establish your own fashion line?”

It is at that moment that the bus arrives, and you realise it is the one you’re supposed to take. You gasp, gathering everything and boarding the bus. Dropping your things on an empty seat and looking out of the window, you shout, “You’ve got a deal! I swear if you refuse to walk for my label after I establish it, I will haunt you in your dreams.”

The last thing you see is the boy laughing at your words and waving at you.

The sound of thunder overhead brings you out of your memories, and you smile at the male curled up right next to you. In the dim light of the rainy morning, he looks ethereal. His dark hair is messy from the way you had run your fingers through it last night after returning from the after-party. Unconsciously but gently, your fingers begin threading through his hair, eliciting a sigh from Hongjoong. He shifts, moving closer to press his lips against your collarbone before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck.

“Good morning, mon chéri,” you chuckle, feeling him smile against your skin. “What’s got you all smiley this morning, mmhm?”

“We have the whole day to ourselves,” Hongjoong giggles, his hand brushing against the sliver of the skin of your back that is exposed by your camisole riding up. “I was thinking we could go visit Yeosang’s art exhibition.”

“Isn’t the opening around 6 p.m., though?” You wonder out loud, distinctly remembering the time on the invitations sent by Hongjoong’s long-time friend.

Hongjoong hums, “Yeo asked me to drop by earlier, said he would give us a tour of the place before the event if we want.”

“And you want to, don’t you?” You ask rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

“Please?”

“How can I ever say no to you?” You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

“Oh?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “You can’t say no to me, huh? Even if I do this?”

Hongjoong's lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. You melt into him, your body pressing against his as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.

“Especially when you do that,” you breathe after you pull back slightly, forehead resting against his as you catch your breath.

Hongjoong's hands slide down your sides, fingertips grazing over the curves of your waist and hips before settling on your thighs. He pushes the covers down, exposing your bare skin to the cool morning air. You shiver slightly, goosebumps rising on your flesh.

"Cold?" Hongjoong murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"A little," you admit, smiling coyly up at him.

Hongjoong moves closer, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His hands continue their exploration of your body, sliding up your thighs and underneath your nightshirt. Fingertips brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"Hongjoong..." you moan softly, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you.

He responds by nipping lightly at your earlobe, tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. One hand slips higher, fingers teasing the edge of your panties. You can feel the heat of his palm against your core, and you press yourself against his hand, desperate for more contact.

Hongjoong chuckles lowly, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "Patience, love," he whispers. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

His hand slips inside your panties, fingers parting your slick folds with practised ease. He circles your clit slowly, teasingly, drawing out a breathy moan from your lips. His other hand slides up your camisole, cupping your breast and kneading the soft flesh. Thumb and forefinger pinch and roll your nipple, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

“Fuck,” You gasp, fisting the sheets beneath you. “Just… ngh… like that.”

Hongjoong increases the pressure on your clit, rubbing faster and harder, matching the rhythm of your hips as they thrust against his hand. Two fingers slip inside you, curling and stroking your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

Your head falls back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. Hongjoong takes advantage of the position, latching onto your exposed throat and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Each action of his heightens your pleasure, and you're quickly spiralling towards the edge.

“M’close,” you warn him, one of your hands tangling in his silky locks.

"That's it, baby," Hongjoong encourages, fingers pumping faster while his tongue laves against your throat. "Come for me. Let go."

And with a final twist of his wrist, you do. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, muscles contracting and releasing around his fingers. Hongjoong doesn't stop his ministrations even as you ride out the waves of your climax. He continues to stroke and circle your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you're trembling and oversensitive. Only then does he withdraw his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth for a taste.

"Delicious," he murmurs appreciatively, eyes dark with desire. “What do you say we indulge ourselves a little before we head out and go see Yeo?”

You smirk, pulling him closer, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. “I love the sound of that,” you purr, your voice dripping with anticipation as your lips meet his in another kiss.

[dany-is-my-queen]

A QUESTION OF LOYALTY XIX

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Note: Happy holidays 🎊

The air in Flea Bottom was thick with the stench of rot, smoke, and despair. You kept your hood low, blending into the squalor of the narrow, winding alleys. Mysaria’s message had reached you through one of her spies, instructing you to meet her in a decrepit building on the edge of the slums. You wondered what game she was playing this time.

When you arrived, she was waiting, seated on a rickety stool beneath the dim light of a cracked lantern.

"You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”

You didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“What do you want, Mysaria? I don’t have time for your games.”

She smiled faintly, gesturing for you to sit, though you remained standing.

“So sharp, always.“

You crossed your arms, glaring at her.

“Speak your piece.”

Mysaria leaned back, her fingers tracing the edge of the lantern.

“Do you know this place? It was once my world. The filth, the hunger, the men who thought they could own me. I swore I would never return to it. And yet, here I am. Funny how war pulls us back to the places we thought we’d escaped.”

“You didn’t summon me here to reminisce about Flea Bottom. Why am I here?”

She stood.

“To warn you. About Daemon.”

The mention of his name made your insides clench.

“Daemon? What are you talking about?”

Stepped closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Have you wondered why he has not returned? Why he remains conveniently absent while the war consumes her? Why he is not at her side, fighting for her crown. Daemon is many things, but loyal is not one of them.”

You frowned.

“If you know something, speak plainly. What is he planning?”

Mysaria tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with cunning.

“He waits. He watches. Men like Daemon do not take second place lightly. Rhaenyra rules, but for how long? He will not share power forever.”

Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to remain calm.

“What do you gain from this? Why warn me if you don’t care who sits the throne?”

“Peace will not come if Daemon takes what he believes is his. He thrives on chaos, on conflict. And you know it.”

“And what makes you so sure he’s planning something? What proof do you have?”

Mysaria shrugged lightly.

“Why does Rhaenyra fight alone while her husband remains in the shadows? Even queens are not safe from betrayal.”

“And are you planning to abandon her now that the war turns against us? Or were you ever truly on her side?”

“Abandon her? You misunderstand me. I’ve stood by her when others faltered, offered her what she needed when none else would.”

Her eyes glinted with amusement as she added,

“Can you say the same, my lady? You were too busy with the Hightowers to offer comfort, too entangled in your own drama to be the ear she needed when she was stranded on Dragonstone, desperate for support.”

Her words cut deeper than you wanted to admit.

“You’re twisting the truth. Whatever your motives, you’ve only driven a wedge between her and the people who truly care for her.”

Mysaria shrugged, her tone turning almost casual.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I saw a void you left behind and filled it. Rhaenyra is a queen who carries the weight of the realm on her shoulders. She needed someone who would listen without judgment, someone who wouldn’t walk away from her.”

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling beneath your calm exterior.

“And you think you’re that person? You’ve manipulated her, used her vulnerabilities to weave yourself into her court. She trusts you more than she should, and I’ll never understand how. You call me a traitor, but what are you? A whore masquerading as a queen’s confidante.”

“I’ve given her what she needed in her darkest moments. You may not like it, but I’ve been there when others were not. She knows my flaws, my ambitions, and still, she keeps me close. Can you say the same? Or do you doubt that you, too, have failed her in your own way?

“I haven’t given up on her, and I won’t”

Mysaria’s smile returned, her composure unshaken.

“Such conviction. You truly love her, don’t you? But love can blind as much as it can guide. Remember that, my lady.”

—————

Rhaenyra sat in the dim glow of her chambers, the fire crackled in the hearth, but it brought her no warmth. Mysaria entered silently, her movements fluid and calculated as she approached the queen.

“You look troubled, my queen.”

Rhaenyra sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples.

“How could I not be? The city is restless. Enemies rise from within. Tumbleton has fallen. And now… I fear I cannot trust even those closest to me.”

Mysaria’s lips curled into a sly smile as she stood, her voice turning honeyed with deceit.

“Trust, Your Grace, is a luxury you can no longer afford. Even those who swear their loyalty can turn against you when it serves them. Take… her, for example.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened,. “She is loyal.”

“Loyal? Was she loyal when your sons bled and she was nowhere to be found? Or when she stood among the greens as they claimed the lives of your kin? And where was her sword when the Betrayer defected at Tumbleton? Where was her fire when your enemies burned everything you hold dear? Was she not the one who once stood in the court of the usurper and bent the knee? Did she not share whispers and secrets with Alicent Hightower—your sworn enemy?”

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, but her eyes betrayed her conflict.

“She has her faults, but she is loyal in her way. She has strayed, yes, but she has always returned to me.”

“Do not let sentiment blind you, my queen. Sentiment will cost you your throne. And when the time comes, she will choose Alicent over you, as she always has. If you cannot see this, you risk losing everything. You cling to the idea of who she was, the person you wish her to be. But people change, Perhaps it is time to accept the truth.”

Rhaenyra looked away, her fingers gripping the arms of her chair. Mysaria’s words gnawed at her resolve, but the image of you—standing by her side, loyal through fire and blood—flashed in her mind.

“No. She is not like that. I know her better than anyone. She’s made mistakes, yes, but haven’t we all? She was there when—”

Mysaria interrupted with a sharp laugh.

“When you needed her most? Or when it was convenient for her? Think, my queen. Think of the moments when her absence cost you dearly. Think of how her hesitations, her divided loyalties, have left you weaker.”

Rhaenyra leaned back in her chair, her expression clouded. For a moment, she was silent, staring into the fire. Mysaria’s words had planted doubt, but another part of her—the part that remembered your courage, your fire, your love—fought back.

—————

Rhaenyra sat upon the Iron Throne, her fingers drumming softly against the cold steel of the armrest. You approached her with steady steps.

“Your Grace,” you began, bowing slightly, though your voice held an edge of urgency, “I must speak with you about Alicent and Helaena.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze flickered briefly to you before returning to the hall, as though weighing whether to entertain the conversation. “Speak, then.”

“They’ve suffered enough,” you said plainly. “Whatever crimes you believe they’ve committed, whatever grievances you hold, let them go. Let them leave the capital. They pose no threat to you.”

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, and she leaned forward slightly, her voice sharp. “They are prisoners, Y/N. Not guests. Their presence here is a reminder to the greens that the war is not yet over. Letting them go would be seen as weakness.”

You took a step closer, your voice softening but no less resolute. “It would be seen as mercy. A show of strength in its own right. Holding them here serves no purpose beyond prolonging their torment.”

Rhaenyra rose slowly from the throne, descending the steps to stand before you. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice carried the weight of her position.

“Do you think I do not know torment?” she asked, her tone cutting. “My father is dead. My sons are dead. My throne has been usurped, my allies betrayed me, and my own husband…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away briefly before meeting your eyes again. “And yet you ask me to grant clemency to the mother of my greatest enemy and the sister of the kinslayer who murdered my son?”

You held her gaze, refusing to back down. “Alicent and Helaena are not responsible for Aemond’s actions, nor Aegon’s. They are pawns, just as you were once a pawn in the games of others. Freeing them would prove that you are above the pettiness of vengeance.”

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I have treated them with dignity, far more than the greens showed my son when they tore him apart at Bitterbridge. They have food, clothing, safety. That is mercy enough.”

“It’s a cage, Rhaenyra,” you pressed, your voice rising slightly. “No amount of fine dresses or warm meals can mask that.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, you thought she might dismiss you entirely. But then she stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous.

“You speak as though you understand the weight of the crown,” she said. “You do not. My enemies circle like vultures, waiting for the first sign of weakness. I will not give them that satisfaction. Alicent and Helaena remain where they are.”

“So this is who you’ve become? The woman who would imprison the innocent for the crimes of others?”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened just slightly, but her resolve remained unshaken. “You may not agree with my choices, Y/N. But they are mine to make. My throne. My decision. And it is final.”

You stared at her for a long moment, searching for some flicker of the Rhaenyra you once knew—the one who valued justice, who fought for what was right. But the Iron Throne had its claws in her now, and it was not letting go.

Bowing stiffly, you turned to leave, your heart heavy with disappointment. “As you say, Your Grace.”

Behind you, Rhaenyra watched you go, her expression troubled, but she did not call you back.

—————

The Sept of Baelor stood solemn and still, its vast chambers bathed in the warm, golden glow of candlelight. You entered quietly, your footsteps muffled by the stone floor. At first, the emptiness seemed complete, but then you caught sight of her. She knelt before the altar, her auburn hair framing her face like a halo, her hands clasped tightly in prayer.

You took a moment to observe her. Even in the simplicity of her gown, she radiated an elegance that was impossible to ignore. But there was something else.

“I thought I would find peace here, My stepdaughter was gracious enough to permit it. Small mercies."

You walked closer, your boots echoing softly against the stone floor.

“Peace is hard to come by in times like these.”

Alicent finally looked up at you, her eyes red-rimmed from unshed tears.

“My children are gone or scattered, and all I can do is pray they remain out of the Stranger's grasp. Helaena, Daeron. How much longer before they are taken from me, too?”

You crouched beside her, your voice gentle.

“They are strong, my Queen. Daeron is a warrior, and Helaena is… very strong. She sees more than we understand. They will endure, just as you have.”

Alicent shook her head, her voice trembling.

“Endure? I endured losing Aegon and Aemond. My grandson, my own lord father, Gwayne. I endured watching my family torn apart by war. But enduring does not mean the pain lessens. It feels as though I am losing pieces of myself with every loss.”

You placed a hand over hers, squeezing gently.

“You have endured because you love them. And because you love them, you will continue to endure. It is who you are, Alicent.”

“Do you think I have failed them? As a mother, as a daughter, as a queen... Have I done enough to protect them?”

You leaned closer, your voice steady.

“You have done more than anyone could have asked of you. The burden of this war is not yours alone to bear, but you have carried it with grace and strength. Helaena and Daeron know that. They love you.”

A silence fell between you. Alicent looked down at your hand over hers, her fingers trembling slightly.

“And what of you? Why are you here, seeking me out in the quiet of the Sept, my lady?”

“Because you are not alone in this. And because I… I cannot bear to see you like this, weighed down by grief and fear. You deserve more than this life of sorrow.”

Alicent’s breath hitched, and she met your gaze again. This time, there was something different in her eyes—something raw and unguarded.

“And what do I deserve, then? Tell me.”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers tentatively. Alicent froze for a moment, as though caught between her faith and her desires. But then, she yielded, her hands clutching your shoulders as she deepened the kiss.

The sanctity of the Sept seemed to fade away as you drew her closer. Her breaths came quicker, her lips parted, but no protest came. Instead, she let out a shuddering breath as your hand slipped beneath the hem of her gown. Your fingers brushed the soft skin of her thigh.

“We shouldn’t… Not here.”

“Then tell me to stop.”

She didn’t. Instead, she pulled you closer, her fingers threading through your hair as you pressed her against the cold stone pillar. You trailed kisses along her jawline, down to the hollow of her throat, as your hand explored further. She gripped your arm, as though torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer.

There was only the warmth of her touch, the taste of her lips, and the promise that, you were hers and she was yours.

————

Was eerily quiet at this hour, save for the distant murmur of guards stationed at their posts.

She stood near the Throne again, her silhouette outlined against the pale light of the moon streaming through the high windows.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing your head slightly.

“My lady,” she replied, her voice softer than you expected, almost hesitant.

You straightened, fixing her with a guarded gaze. “I am surprised you called for me. I assumed you’d be attending to more important matters.

Rhaenyra’s lips curved faintly, though it was not a smile. “Speaking with you is important.”

Her words caught you off guard, but you held your composure. “I’m listening.”

She took a step closer, her hands clasped before her as if to steady herself. “What you witnessed the other day…”

“It’s none of my concern,” you interrupted, your tone clipped.

Her expression faltered, but she pressed on. “It was a mistake.”

“You owe me no explanation. I don’t wish to know.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and oppressive, until she spoke again, her voice quieter. “News has reached me. Mysaria has told me.”

At her words, your posture stiffened, a flicker of unease crossing your face. “The matter with… Lord Corlys,” she clarified.

You exhaled slowly, willing yourself to remain calm.

“I will release him immediately,” she said, her tone almost apologetic. “Though it’s a bit late, I don’t imagine he wishes to remain here with his fleet looming. I’ve lost him to my own paranoia,” she admitted, the vulnerability in her voice surprising you.

“I appreciate that,” you replied, choosing your words carefully. “I would speak with him, but if he’s made up his mind after this, there’s little I can do to change it.”

“I know,” she said, her gaze lowering briefly. “And I do not expect you to.”

“Thank you for understanding,” you said quietly, and for a moment, you thought the conversation might end there.

But then she spoke your name.

“Y/N…”

You turned to face her fully, and the intensity of her gaze rooted you in place.

“I know you are not his daughter,” she said, her voice steady despite the delicate nature of her words.

A chill ran down your spine. “It matters little,” she continued. “I know who you are, just as I knew who Rhaenys was. Your mother was an honorable woman, and I had hoped I’d grow in her image. I deeply regret that you never met your true father. But I know this: you carry the blood of the dragon within you, as do I, as do my children… The seed is strong,” she finished, her voice tinged with something akin to reverence.

You blinked, caught off guard by her candor. “Your court won’t take kindly to having a bastard among them,” you said cautiously.

“Do you think I would reveal it?” she asked, her tone fierce. “Never, Y/N. I have already threatened Mysaria to ensure she keeps silent.”

“She had no right to speak of it,” you said, anger simmering beneath your calm facade.

“We know who she is, where she comes from. I regret ever placing my trust in her.” Her voice softened, and she stepped closer, her gaze searching yours. “Se ao… nyke’ve missed ao sīr olvie (And you… I’ve missed you so dearly),” she said, her words trembling with emotion.

Your breath faltered as she closed the distance between you.

You didn’t reply, your lips parting as she looked into your eyes, her pupils dark and dilated. “Vūjigon issa (Kiss me),” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Issa dāria (My Queen…),” you began, your voice wavering.

“Kostagon nyke vūjigon ao? (May I kiss you?)” she asked, her voice so soft it felt like a plea.

You held her gaze, the world around you fading into nothing. Slowly, you leaned in, her lips brushing yours, but before the kiss deepened, you hesitated. Instead, you kissed the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, and finally, her forehead.

“Mazverdagon se paktot decisions hēzīr (Make the right decisions from now on),” you murmured gently, stepping back to put some space between you.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she did not look away. “Will you be my Hand?” she asked hesitantly, her voice filled with hope and vulnerability. “Please accept,” she urged. “I need your wisdom.”

You studied her, your heart heavy with the weight of her request and taken aback. “It would... be an honor, Your Grace. But I need to know, will the persecution continue?” you asked, your voice firm.

“It will cease,” she confessed.

Taglist: @nnightskiess @loveislove4 @evattude @lethal-minds @sophiexoxsblog @claymoresword @tired-ninfa @glorioushamsterqueen @pinkponycent @newcaptainofsquad9 @pindoris @oh-thats-cute @rxscpctals @laenordeservedbetter @voniikg @toot-is-tired @letlovee-in @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valenciavv @the-camilucha @acidblum @i-nail-jello-to-walls @cone-fused-mind @livingdreams97 @unique0003 @wicked-laugh @lottiemsgf @duckiekong @thecavalrywife @username23345 @simp4women08 @vorsdany

[danikamariewrites]

Dude every time I read Tairn’s insults or snarky remarks about anything and everyone, I cackled every time.

Could you do one where Tairn chose reader instead and reader, Xaden, Sgayel, and Tairn are just shit talking about everyone with their minds through out the day? I would love to see more of Xaden and Tairn bonding over being grumpy together lol

I have a really bad habit of when someone pisses me off I just insult them in my mind and I could just imagine Xaden accidentally laughing out loud at the insults causing the reader to also laugh lol

Shit Talking

Xaden x reader

A/n: this idea was sm fun to write. Also this is very heavy on Dain hate, bc I hate him.

Warnings: none

Sitting in history class waiting for the professor to start, you reach out and tap on Xaden’s mind. “Morning grumpy! How are you?” You don’t know who the huff came from, Xaden or Tairn.

“You’re too joyful for the morning.” Tairn deadpans. You chuckle to yourself and hear Sgaeyl chuckle as well. “He’s right.” As you were about to scold them for being old grumps, you hear the classroom door opens. Dain and the professor walk in.

“What’s wrong?” Xaden asks feeling your annoyance at Dain’s presence. “Dain’s observing class today.” You hear all three of the groan. You slap your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.

Dain sits down at the front of the class and you relay that to the others. Sgaeyl laughs, Tairn lets out another annoyed groan, and Xaden laughs out, “Loser.”

As class goes on the four of you continue to talk about your fellow riders. It’s also rare Tairn and Sgaeyl are so vocal about other dragons. Or speak to you and Xaden when they don’t need to. It was nice and it felt normal in an odd way.

At Battle Brief you so badly wanted to sit with Xaden, but you had to stay with your squad. This time you feel Xaden tapping on your mind. “Hey sweet cheeks.” You feel your face heat. You turn slightly in your seat and see him hiding a smirk behind his hand

His eyes quickly dart to you, then back to the professors at the center of the circular room. “Aetos is particularly talkative today.” You mentally groan, “I know, his voice is so grating.” Another huff from Tairn has your eyes rolling.

“Wingleader,” you jump in your seat a little, shocked by Tairn addressing Xaden. “I think we should just be rid of him.”

“Mmhhmm, for once I agree with you.” “Now, now my mate, behave. We know he and his dragon are pompous but leave them be.” Sgaeyl chastised. Your heart skipped a beat. Not in a bad way, but in a good way. You had this full feeling in your chest. Like you were about to burst that the people your closest with were getting along.

Walking to dinner alone you hear Xaden in your head again. You pause for a moment at the intrusion and continue down the dimly lit stone hallway. “Are you heading to dinner?” “Yeah, are you there?”

Xaden steps in front of you from a shadowed alcove off the hall. You have to lean your head almost all the way back to see his face. He’s so gods damn tall and you love it. “Hey beautiful.” The corners of his full lips turning up, brushing lose hair behind your ear. Caressing your cheek, moving to hold your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

You smile up at him, fluttering your eyelashes. And out of nowhere you both burst out into a fit of laughter. You love Xaden’s laugh, it’s loud and untethered. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world for a moment. Grabbing on to each other for balance as you wipe at your eyes, calming down. Xaden pulls you into him kissing the crown of your head.

You start walking down the rest of the hall toward the dinning hall. You break the comfortable silence between you, “I had a good day today, thank you.” You feel Xaden stiffen next to you. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because, you and Tairn, and Sgaeyl made today fun. I liked that all four of us were talking. It made me happy.” Outside of the large doors Xaden stops. You don’t notice until you were two steps ahead that he wasn’t with you.

Looking back at him, his face set in contemplation. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he says, “That makes me happy. All I want is for you to be happy. And I’m glad I could give you that today.” You close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying your head in his chest.

Xaden wraps an arm around your shoulder bringing his other hand up to cradle the back of your head, stroking your hair. You stay like that for a few more moments until footsteps and a scoff interrupt. You both look to the source of negativity and see Dain. “Get a room.” Disgust at your affection is clear in his voice. He walks in the dinning hall as you and Xaden look at each other and laugh.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

[lavellansvh3nan]

A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus

//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!

My friend,

I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.

I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.

Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.

I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.

You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.

What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.

Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.

When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.

I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.

Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.

Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.

What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”

Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.

But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.

It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.

Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.

Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)

To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.

*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*

Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.

Just know, I’ll never be far from you.

With love, always,

Elliana

[purpleyoonn]

enchanted 1

C H A P T E R   O N E 

“I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.”

summary: The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.

genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, dragon au,

pairing: Dragon King Yoongi x Human MC

status: ongoing (random updates)

warnings: starts in the middle of war, violence, angst, death, supernatural creatures, smut, dragon customs, dragon instincts, more to come

chapter warnings: mentions of past sa, allusions to rape, mentions of war, violence, allusions to murder, mc almost buried alive, injuries, talk of different normalized death and destruction, anxiety, mentions of consequences of speaking about anxiety, mc has ptsd, past trauma, trauma responses, mentions people being eaten alive, 

taglist: @avadakadabra93​ @littlebaby-bunbun​ @veronawrites​ @taempress​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @suckerforv​ @weepingpickle​ @sugasbultornebae7​ @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf​ 

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp @yourleftsock @skyys-universe @cryingpages @strxwbloody @drissteele @dustyinkpages @iamkookiesforyou @crushedblackroses @fluffy-canada-pancakes @blaaiissee  @iiitsmaria  @carolinexkpop  @azazel-nyx@strawberry-moonpies @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i @knjkitten @foreverweareyoung7@lachimolala22019 @namuficxs @94z-93 @kimgmzmc @thenaverse@dahliasbouqet @black-rose-29 @tinyoonsblog @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d@stellauniverse @stupendouscookiehumanmug @tinyoonsblog @veronawrites@tatyhend @singukieee @m0v3m3ntsblog @exfolitae @butterymin @queen-in-the-shadows @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13​ @slinekyu​

playlist 

masterlist // chapter 2 

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When you were younger, your father used to read you stories of dragon nights and fairy princesses, how the night would save the princess from the horrible evils keeping her trapped, confined to her dull world.

When you were eight, the human world was brought into the horrors of the supernatural, a long going war that started years before you were born. It seemed that the humans were just vulnerable enough to be taken advantage of; foot solders that were willing to do anything for money or guarantees of safety. If only the humans knew they were being lied to.

The Queen of the Damned had promised safety and riches, but in turn sent her minions to destroy human villages across the land. Around your thirteenth year, the same year the birthmark on your shoulder darkened, the King of Dragons, King Min, had sent out his armies to rescue any human villages still within the Queen’s realm, including your own. 

But he was too late to save your family, crushed under the foot of a giant.

Once the remaining humans from your village were found, you were brought to a village within the King’s realm. One of the general’s had found someone who was willing to take you in, said he was a distant uncle on your father’s side.

You had been there ever since, but it seemed as though the man who took you in had ulterior motives for his kindness. That it needed to be repaid.

“Y/n, it’s time to wake up, the sun is nearly over the hill.” Jinsoo, the eldest of the bunch, was whispering, her hands shaking at your shoulders. You groaned a little but moved to sit up from the cot you shared with Lila on the floor.

You moved gently off the cot, trying not to wake up Lila who had been in charge of dealing with the Lord’s daughter the previous night, bathing her and bringing her late-night snacks. It was a tiring thing, dealing with the children of Lord Ahn, but nothing was worse than dealing with the lord himself.

Once off the cot, you got to your feet and moved over to the hook that held your uniform on it, a simple, cream colored dress and a green apron that tied in the back. You liked that the apron held pockets; the chef sometimes like to sneak the servant’s snacks, like bread and a couple grapes, slipping them in the pockets in passing.

After getting dressed and putting your hair up, you made your way to the main room within the servant’s quarters where the assignments were placed by Lady Ahn. The Lord’s wife had a specific way of upkeeping the manor, and always needed to make sure everything was up to her standards.

And her standards were high, almost unrealistic at times, especially when there were guests in the manor. The Ahn’s liked to entertain guests, mostly other Lord’s and Lady’s that held the same standards as the Ahn’s.

One day you remember having to trim the grass below one of the balconies with a single blade, Lady Ahn claiming that her friend had only wanted to see grass blades of the same height under her balcony. You spent an entire day cutting the blades of grass individually, under the watchful eye of Lord Ahn and his friend.

You had to wait a couple of seconds behind two other girls before you were able to see your name and your assignment. You had been assigned to clearing the Lord and Lady’s room and straightening up one of the guest bedrooms along with laundry, a chore only recently tacked onto your shoulders.

You sighed before deciding that you could wash the laundry first, working on the rooms as you let the cloths dry. You moved back from the assignment board, a couple other girls taking your place before rolling your shoulders and moving towards the laundry baskets. You grab two of them before making your way to the hallway that led to the kitchens, the only entrance to the servant’s quarters.

As you walk down the long hallway, your mind flashes back to the dream you had last night, the same man with the same shoulder length hair that has been keeping you company since you had been brought here. Most of your dreams took place in a flower garden, his hand in yours as he brings you to the center.

He was always silent, but you felt safe with him, unlike something you’ve ever felt before. Every time he looked at you, your cheeks would become red with heat, his eyes anchoring you to him. It made you want to give him flowers, bring him your favorites treasures with the only hope that he would smile at you.

Last night’s dream was something different, though. He was holding you in his arms, something surrounding you as he pressed a kiss to your temple. The atmosphere was warm, and you could feel something wet hitting your shoulder. It left you confused when you woke up, the same feeling of being warm, of being loved sat in your chest, making the rest of your body warm.

The kitchen was already bustling when you walked through the entryway. Greeting the chef and his assistant you move swiftly through the door on the left of the room, leading directly into the dining hall. You never had the pleasure of being assigned the hall, your facial expressions always getting you into trouble. Enough where you had spent over a year learning how to keep your face emotionless. Instead, you were assigned the menial chores of cleaning and “assisting” Lord Ahn in his study.

You move over to the side hallway, just to the right of the doorway you’ve just entered through. It led to the laundry chute and is where the servants held all of the cleaning materials like cloths and the cleaning solution that Hana makes. You can’t help but to roll your eyes when you see the sodden sheets held within the bin that came from the eldest son’s room.

Like his father, the eldest son, Daesung, had a habit of taking the servants into his quarters. Also, like his father, Daesung had a nasty habit of striking out whenever someone told him no. It was learned that it was easier to just let things happen than to risk your life.

You wonder who he took this time, but figured you’d probably find out later that morning when you met the other girls for lunch. It had only been a couple of weeks since you had last seen Daesung, he had only returned the day before after venturing to the next town over, trying to find a wife under Lord Ahn’s command.

Grabbing the supplies you needed and the soiled cloths, you begin to head for the river, since Lady Ahn refused to have you clean the sheets in the sinks. You were lucky not to run into any of the Lord’s family on your way out, your lungs able to breathe easier once you made it outside and away from the prying eyes of the family.

Oddly enough, you loved being outside, where only the trees and the stream could be heard. It helped you be calm, to ease your thoughts and feelings. It was something your mother used to do whenever you got too into your head. She would take you outside, to the lavender patch that resided just outside your small cottage.

“Darling, the earth beneath our feet can do so much more than just grow our food and provide shade from the sun. It can give power to our very souls.” Your mother would tell you as she braided daisies into your hair, something that always managed to calm you down.

“What power, mama?”

“The power to be calm, like the river that runs through the forest. To keep steady even in the face of destruction. But most of all, it gives you the power to live, to face whatever comes your way.” You never understood what she meant, but over time, you realize the peace you felt in the forest was more than enough to understand and take in.

You felt truly at peace when surrounded by the earth and her makings.

And it seemed as though the forest felt the same way, like it listened to your heart beat. You never had trouble walking, unlike your friends who always tripped over roots or broken branches. The flowers you picked always seemed to look the best or give off the strongest scent.

Even now, as you walked down the hill and to the river, the ground seemed to flatten as you advanced. You just figured you and the earth had some kind of understanding with each other.

The river was soothing as you took a seat on the grass, pulling out the bar soap Lady Ahn had you use and the washing board she had brought back from one of her many trips; she claimed it made the cloths extra clean.

It had taken you only an hour to scrub down the sheets and couple of pairs of pants in the basket before you brought them over to the line to hang and dry. Once you had all the wet sheets hung, you grabbed your basket with the washing board and soap and brought them back inside, placing them in the closet before you grabbed your basket of cleaning supplies and made your way upstairs where the Lord and his family had their rooms.

You tried to be as quiet as you could, not wanting to deal with the family this morning, at least, more than you needed to. Once you reach the top of the stairs, you move to the end of the hallway, on the right, and knock on the door. You wait, not receiving an answer, and decide its empty and thus safe to go on.

Another soft sigh leaves your lips when you see the sheets on the ground and clothing hanging off the end of the love seat near the wall. You already know you’re going to have to make your way back down to the river.

You heft the basket onto the floor before moving to the sheets. You use the bottom of one of Lady Ahn’s dresses to grab onto the sheet to put down the laundry chute, grabbing the rest of the items on the floor and doing the same thing. You begin to straighten up the furniture before moving back to your basket, picking out the cleaning solution and a rag before wiping down the dresser, night table, and the bed frame.

Once this was done, you move to the linen closet and grab an extra pair of bedding and begin to make the bed. When you bend over the bed to straighten out the bottom sheet, you feel a hand grab at your butt. 

You jump and turn around to see Lord Ahn behind you, a smile on his lips as he looks down at you.  You stand up, dropping the sheet from your hands as you bring them around to claps behind your back.

“I see the new uniforms fit nicely.” Lord Ahn looked you up and down, even moving your apron out of the way so he could see your figure in the dress. You bit your cheek as his hand brushed against the side of your breast.  

“You should say thank you. We didn’t have to get you new clothes. Hmm?” Lord Ahn’s smile turns up, cheek pushed upwards as he winks at you. You take a deep breath in before speaking the words you know he wants to hear.

“Thank you, Lord Ahn. Your kindness is appreciated.” The words leave your lips, rehearsed and repeated so many times that they tumble out of your mouth on command. The smile he gives at your words is big and genuine. He is beyond happy at the training he has given the servants.

“Now, why don’t you let me see what you look like without them, hmm?” Lord Ahn hums again, reaching for the back of your apron to untie. You don’t move, just tighten your grip on your laced hands as he unties the string. Once the apron is loose, he moves to pull it over your head when the door to the room opens, Lady Ahn and one of the male servants, Minho, stands on the other side.

You relax, knowing the Lord isn’t going to do anything with his wife nearby. She hates what her husband and son do but doesn’t care if she doesn’t know. The Lord drops his hands from the apron, and takes a step back from you, winking again before turning around.

“Uhm, Lord Ahn, there is someone outside causing a ruckus. He is yelling for you and keeping us from doing our duties.” Minho lets out, his body standing tense and still as he does.

“Yes, darling, the man is becoming a nuisance and I would like him dealt with.” Lady Ahn gestures for her husband, pulling him away from you as she gives you a dirty glare, one that means you were going to be on midnight duty that night.

You stand still, waiting until you were the only one left in the room before retying your apron around your back and finishing the room before you experience any more unwanted or unneeded disturbances.

It took a little longer since you were interrupted, but you managed to finish it quickly, remaking the bed, cleaning the windows and even going outside to pick flowers for Lady Ahn’s bedside table, hoping to appease her a little. You didn’t want to deal with Lady Ahn, claiming you were going after her husband again.

Once you were done with the Lord and Lady’s room, you moved to the guest bedroom at the other end of the hall, preparing it for the guests who were supposed to be coming the next morning.

When you entered the room, you were shocked by the appearance of Lady Ahn. She was sitting in the small chair that resided to the left of the window. You remined silent as you watched her acknowledge your presence, getting to her feet and making her way to you.

“Now, we have a special visitor coming later and I want this room to be perfect. Grab the good candles from my closet, and the silk linens from our special collection. If the room is not up to my standards, or the standards of our guest, you can kiss your life here goodbye. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, my Lady.” You bow your head slightly, waiting for her to let you know you could go. But she doesn’t, instead, Lady Ahn walks out of the open door behind you, not another word sent your way.

“Okay…” You let out, once you were sure that no one could hear you. You begin to clean the guest room the same way you always would, following the word of the Lady and using her good silk linens and grabbing three candles from her closet. You placed one either side of the bed and one on the dresser across from the bed.

Once you figure the room was clean to Lady Ahn’s standards, you move back to the first floor and to the closet, putting your basket away and moving to grab the laundry you had pushed down the chute earlier. You make sure to try and grab some gloves, not wanting to touch any of the sheets or clothing from the Lord’s room.

The river was starting to warm up, but still cold as you sat again by the river. You had flashbacks to finding Mela’s body at the bottom of the hill, the sunlight coming through the trees almost the same as the day you found her. You remember the way Lila had cried out, rushing towards the body of your friend and bedmate, your own body frozen in shock.

The body had started to come up in your dreams, even going as far as to be awaiting you and the mystery man in the garden. You remember the way Lord Ahn’s face had turned when you and Lila had gone to him, to inform him of what they had found. The way he smiled is seared into your retina, the words his spoke imprinted into your brain.

“Why don’t you two get back to work.”

He cared nothing for your friend and it had you questioning if he was the one who had done it, but there was nothing you could do. You had nothing outside of the manor. You knew no one would take you in, let you have a job or place to stay. Not during the war raging on outside of the walls. So, you listened, continued on with your chores despite the spiral your brain had taken.

You shook your head as you got out the soap from the bottom of the basket, rubbing against the washing board you had rested against the side of the river. You had to be quick, quiet as you worked. The woods were becoming increasingly dangerous over the past couple months. 

Stories of trolls and ghouls making their travels to the neighboring villages. You didn’t want to alert anyone or anything of your presence, even the animals waking from their slumber.

Your mind turned back to a time when you were in school, around the age of seven or eight, learning about the beginning of the war. Your teacher had an entire weeklong lesson on the creatures the Queen was known to utilize, putting the most emphasis on the Ghoul.

A ghoul was a reanimated body filled with the magical essence of the caster who brought it back. They were basically dead bodies filled with magic instead of a soul. Their eyes were uncharacteristically white, irises and pupils gone. Skin grey and ashen, almost see through as their bodies had begun to decompose.

Ghouls were also exceptionally well at sensing humans. Their bodies were attuned to the heartbeat of what they used to be, and they fed on the flesh of their past. It was thought that they could hear or smell a human from miles away.

Your teacher had tried to drill into your head that your safety was only ensured if you remained silent, something that stuck with you, even to this day. It was something that served you well, kept you alive as you went through your days under Lord Ahn and his reign.

“Y/n!” You turned your head, seeing Taemin coming to a stop, leaning on his tree to catch his breath. “Are you almost done? Lord Ahn is wanting all of us to come back to the manor. He seems upset.” Your eyes widen in fear, scrambling to gather the half-washed cloths and washing board, getting to your feet.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” You asked your friend as you both ran back up the hill and to the manor.

“No. All I heard was that Jeongmin can rushing out of his room with bruises all over her face.” You sigh out, knowing he could be mad at anything. Poor Jeongmin just had to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder if she refused him, even with you and the other girls telling her to go along with it for her own safety.

Jeongmin was one of the newer girls, acquired after her home village was set ablaze during a battle between King Min’s army and the ghouls who had been sent by the Queen to torment.

“Is she okay?” You ask, worried for the younger girl.

“Hana is with her, helping her clean up and put medicine on her cuts.” Oh, that meant Lord Ahn was exceptionally upset. He typically didn’t leave any marks like that, not in anger at least.  

“Well, let’s hurry. We don’t want to give him any more reasons to be angry.” You breathe out, picking up your pace with a tight hold on the basket. Your heart was beating into your throat as you picked up your pace, almost smashing into the back door; you weren’t allowed to use the front door for any reason.

Pushing through the back door next to the servant’s quarters, you hastily set your laundry basket down on the kitchen counter, not surprised when you find the room empty. You rush through the room, almost knocking Taemin down as your hips bump together. Once you get out of the kitchen and through the dining hall, you race to the end of the line of servants and workers, just barely making it before Lord Ahn begins to speak.

“Now, it has come to my…attention,” You watch as his eyes cut over to a silently crying Jeongmin, her hands crossed in front of her stomach and her head bowed. “that a few of my loyal workers have decided to go against my rules and wishes of remaining pure and have had relations with each other.”

Your eyes go wide at the information he was spouting. It was a common thing amongst the workers to have relationships and be intimate while off duty and in the quarters. You knew a few of your friends who were in relationships, including Minho, Taemin, and Lila. You yourself hadn’t really done anything with another person, to worried about being caught and consequently losing your home and livelihood. You can only pray that Jeongmin wasn’t forced to tell the Lord any names.

“You all know the rules, that I don’t expect much when you come into my household.” Lord Ahn’s voice had become deeper, darker as he spoke making your breath hitch, trying not to move. He was now moving down the hall where you all were lined up, looking everyone in the eyes as he spoke.

He was no almost in front of you, eyes looking you and Taemin up and down, probably wondering why you were late to this household meeting. He opened his mouth to say something else when the far off sound of one of the villages sirens went off, leading to the one closer to the manor to go off.

It was like a whirlwind of panic resounded throughout the hall, you being the first to move from the line, hoping to bolt outside when Lord Ahn’s arm shot out and held onto your arm, his fingers dangerously close to your breast as he pulled you closer to him.

“Where do you think you are going?” His lips were close to brushing against your own as he moved in. You could feel Taemin move closer to you, ready to pull you from your master’s bruising grip.

“That is the unhuman siren, sir.” You retort back, trying your hardest to control your tone as you spoke, your face emotionless from years of practice. You knew better.

“And? I did not give anyone permission to move from their spots in line.” He snaps back, pushing you away from him and you would have fallen if Taemin had not caught you and helped you steady yourself.

“Now, this is a new development. Since you all seem to think the agreements we made when you first got here are null, I think it’s time you learn your lessons.” Lord Ahn begins to move back, towards the split in the hallway that would lead him to the front door.

“You all can remain here, know what it means to be wards of Lord Ahn. Keep my manor clean, as I’m still sure we can be expecting our esteemed guest soon. My family and I will go and see what is going on.” The same smile he wore when he was taking advantage of you was worn on his lips, the glint in his eyes meaning he knew exactly what was going on outside of the manor.

He planned to trap you in here and save himself and his family. You were in shock. You looked back at Taemin, wondering if he heard and saw what you did, only for his mouth to be open, eyes matching yours.

“Jinyoung, Hanmin, come. I’m sure my family and I will need help.” You watch the two larger men walk forward, hearing them grumble under their breathes as they walked past you.

Once the three men were out of hearing distance, you turned to look for Jinsoo, but you didn’t see her. You can only assume she is assisting Lady Ahn. Hana, the second eldest, begins to reassure the rest of us that nothing was going to happen, that we were fine as long as we stayed in the manor. She set about giving us jobs in pairs or groups, picking you to go along with her and finish the laundry in the kitchen sink while she continued the chef’s job.

Once in the kitchen, you notice some of the cupboards open and the counters a mess. You move to one of the open cabinets on your left, seeing it empty instead of filled with the new loaves of bread to cool. Turning around, you see Hana doing the same thing.

“They took all of the food, didn’t they?” You ask, your voice in a shocked whisper as you see the look of defeat on her face. Hana nods her head before schooling her features and turning to where you left the basket of half-washed cloths.

“Here, let’s get you started over here.” She says as she moves over to the sink, turning on the water and putting the washing board in the sink and the soap on the counter. You stood still, your mind still whirling with too many thoughts and memories.

Hana sees this and comes over to you, helping you move to the sink and places a cloth and soap in your shaking hands.

“Here, maybe doing something will get your mind off of it.” Hana knew about your memories, how they always seemed to make you shake and freeze. She kept it quiet because if anyone found out about it, you could be carted off to a men’s home or killed on the stake. You would be more likely to be sent to the stake because you were a woman, something you absolutely despised.

Hana turned around to the other countertop and began slicing the vegetables the chef left on the counter. She was humming a tune familiar to you, something she always hummed when she was anxious or nervous.

“We are not going to make it out of here, are we?” Your voice is shaky, just like your hands. You don’t turn around to see her, so you miss the way a tear drops onto the counter and her hands begin to shake. Hana doesn’t even bother to answer, not wanting to lie to you or get your hopes up.

You spend a couple minutes in silence, listening out for another siren, or even screams when both begin to sound out in front of the manor. The screams sound like they are almost coming from right outside, making you drop the bar soap and scrub brush in your hands.

“Stay here.” You hear Hana say as she turns to you, her hand out to gesture you to keep put before moving towards the dining halls so she could look out the windows on the far wall. You resign to follow her words, until another scream comes from inside the manor. You shoot from the sink and move to the servant’s quarters, running to the safety of your room.

At least, until you see ghouls outside coming towards the back side of the manor from all sides. They could smell you all inside. It was like you were surrounded, more screams from inside the manor breaking out. You noticed some of the men who worked at the manor running away from the ghouls, cries coming from your lips as you see one being dragged to the ground and his arm being bitten into.

A crackling noise has you moving from the small window you were peeking out of. You had no clue where it was coming from, but the noise got louder and louder until you noticed the wooden walls of the room seemed to be pushing inwards from force. A loud, dragged out groan makes you turn toward the door, slowly creeping forward until you were looking out the doorway and into the hall, seeing a shadow figure slowing inching towards you.

You covered your mouth, holding back a sob as you realized you were trapped in the room. You looked around, hoping for any chance or sign of you being able to get out of the room but you didn’t fit through the windows, you’d barley be able to get your thigh through the slot.

You try to remember what your teacher had told you, all those years ago about the different ways to kill those unhumans we might come into contact with. You knew Giants could be killed by dragon fire, or by silver to the head. Trolls could be killed by being bludgeoned to the head or by being buried. And ghouls could only be killed by dragon fire, the opposite magic to that of a witch.

You were screwed unless someone of the royal army came by soon.

Just as you tried to look for some weapon to at least keep the ghoul away from you, you were being buried under the rubble of the roof as the servant’s quarter collapsed. Your vision was blurry as the rubble settled down and you found yourself a couple of feet away from the ghoul who had been in the hallway, its hands and upper body trying to climb out from under the debris.

You were in a similar position, legs stuck beneath one of the stone columns of the side of the main manor that was attached to the wooden walls of the quarters for support. You could move and feel your legs but was unable to life the column from on top of your legs. You pushed all you could, but only managed to move the column the slightest inch.

A couple of loud roars from above had you scrambling, knowing they were going to begin setting fire to the ghouls, and you were going to be caught in the crossfire if you didn’t get your legs out from under the rubble.

You became trapped in tunnel vision, no sound or feelings being noticed as you hyper focused on the column on your leg, using all your might to push it off of you. You didn’t notice the debris flying or any signs of someone coming closer, walking on the rubble until a loud growl came from in front of you and the column went flying.

You looked up to see King Min, having recognized him from one of the posters hung up in the village market. His eyes were red as he hissed through his fangs. You could just make out the outlines of his wings in the sunlight. He reached forward making you curl back in fear, your body tense as he moves closer.

“Please..” You whimper out, not knowing what the King planned to do, but you felt his hands picking you up, one arm underneath your injured legs and the other hand holding the back of your head, pushing it until your head rested against the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Mate.” He whispered into your hair, making your breath catch in the back of your throat. That word has you blinking away even more tears, caused by what, you have no clue as a slew of emotions moved through you. Your fingers moved to grip his button down, a few of the buttons popping loose as he moved, making you grip tighter onto the fabric.

King Min moves quickly, walking out of the rubble and into the trees, a clearing by the river coming into the view as he shifts, his wings breaking out from the back of his shirt, the rest of his shirt now loose in your grip as he begins to fly away to a place unknown to you.

-*-*-

Yoongi was already having a bad day, under the watchful eye of his best friend and personal guard Namjoon. He woke up to notices of that damned Queen setting ghouls onto two of the villages that lay on the outer ring of his kingdom. 

He was about an hours flight from either of the villages, and his advisor Seokjin, had talked to one of his father’s appointed Lord’s and set him up for the night to investigate the scenes with some of his royal guard accompanying him.

His magical advisor was named Jimin, and he had been rescued by Yoongi’s father when he was a little boy, left to die after his family abandoned him during a raid. He was one of the people going with him to see the villages, as he could sense the magical signature left behind.

He almost never went to actually investigate anything in his kingdom, too busy to leave the castle most days, but for some reason Seokjin was insistent on Yoongi going along, with Jimin bribing him special citrus pies. So, Yoongi set his work aside or gave some to Seokjin, and took the next two days off, setting off in the late morning to the first village.

The first village was completely decimated, ghouls and golems sent to destroy and ravage through the land. He even found a few left over golems still trying to use a hammer to smash a fountain. He had Namjoon burn them and Jimin found their magical signature to lead to one of the warlocks who previously managed to get away from them a week ago.

It was now early afternoon, and he along with his guard were moving to the second village when he received the alert form a scout that another village was in the beginning of being attacked by ghouls.

Yoongi gave the okay to move quickly, hoping they could prevent any more lives lost. Within five minutes he could feel his soulmark burning, letting out a painful roar as he dipped low. As they got closer to the new village, he realized it was the one he was supposed to be staying at that night, and that there was a new scent making him want to release control to his inner dragon and drag the scent to his den.

He knew his mate was close, and for the first time, he was eager to find them. Consequences be damned as he flew faster, urging himself to push through the pain from his mark. He knew his mate was in danger and he needed to be quick.

Yoongi followed the scent of honey and almond, ignoring the saliva building in the back of his throat. What it led to had the fire now building in his throat as he witnessed the ghouls had already destroyed most of the village, half eaten bodies laying in various positions on the ground. 

He chased after the scent of his mate, finding the manor he was supposed to stay in mostly intact, but when he went around, he saw a wooden building had been destroyed, fire now moving slowly over the wreckage.

He roared again when he found his mate trapped under a broken column and a ghoul only feet away from her. He would have cried in any other situation, meeting his mate finally, but now, now all he wanted to do destroy anything in his path…once he made sure his mate was safe.

He saw you moving, arms pushing with all your might as your face turned red, trying to dislodge your legs from under the column. He got so mad he growled out, pushing the column off your leg and listening to it shatter against a tree a hundred yards away.

When you were freed, it was like you only just realized he was in front of you. He recognized the look of fear and recognition on your face but ignored it and moved forward, his only instinct right now was to make sure you were safe, in his arms, and away from the dragon fire coming this way.

“Please…” His eyes almost rolled into the back of his wings as he finally heard your voice, as sweet as the scent you gave off. He just continued forward, picking you up and pushing your head into his neck, hoping you would be comforted by his own scent.

“Mate.” He couldn’t help but whisper into your hair, as if his inner dragon was speaking through him, verbally confirming what he already knew.

Yoongi ignored the way your fingers tightened on his shirt, watching as the top button popped off and flew into the rubble. He moved away quickly, holding you steady as he fumbled on the rubble and through the grass, trying to get to the clearing as quickly as he could. He knew any second his guard was going to start setting fire to kill all the ghouls.

Once the clearing comes into view, he let his wings form from the marks on his back, half way shifting so he could still hold his little mate tight to his chest, His shirt was now loose against his mate’s grip, he ignores the tingles coming from where your skin connects with his, embarrassed at the small moan he had to choke back.

He didn’t notice when you fainted, your grip still tight on his shirt. He didn’t wait for his guard; he just began to fly back to the castle. He needed for the royal doctor to see you. Yoongi didn’t like the look of the bruises across your legs, or the ones showing from the torn sleeve of your dress.

Every jostle he felt, another groan left your lips, making him wince. It was like he couldn’t fly fast enough, the burning he felt in his wings was nothing compared to the burning he felt in his soulmark.

He swooped down onto the landing outside his room once he got to the castle and held you tighter as he moved to the medical wing, yelling for his head healer. He quickly moved to the royal medical suite and placed you on the bed. He stayed close to your side, rustling the blankets and pillows to make you comfy, unknowingly making you a little nest like his instincts told him to.

Yoongi stood by your side, watching the door carefully as soon as he heard footsteps rushing towards them. His lips were pulled up in a snarl, eyes still burning red as his instincts screamed at him to protect his new mate. He could feel his claws extending as the door opens, his body still rung tight even as he sees his head healer walk in.

“Your Majesty, we were not expecting you back so…” The healers’ words drift off once he sees you in the bed, the nest made around your body, and the way the King stood next to you, his dragon features out.

“Oh my.” The healer breathes out, taking a couple of steps closer until he is about a foot away, freezing when Yoongi lets out a warning growl.

“Please, your Majesty, if you want me to heal her Majesty, I need to be able to get closer.” The healer waited before seeing the slightest of nods sent his way, moving slowly as he knew any sudden movements would set off the already tense and upset dragon king.

The healer took a good look at your legs, asking the King to gently move them so he could see the extent of the damage, knowing if he touched you, he would be dead in an instant. He noticed you had some bruising and cuts along the front of your calves, and that there seemed to be no permanent damage. Once he had Yoongi put your legs down, Yoongi pointed to your arms, his dragon having fully taken over once the healer walked in.

The healer noticed the bruising on your arms, scared for whoever caused the marks.

“It seems, your Highness, that someone had grabbed her Majesty tightly. There are handprints right here.” He pointed to the finger marks on your arm, trying not to tense at the low growl that was building in the King’s chest. He was surprised you were still out, but he reasoned you felt comfortable and safe being so close to your mate.

“I will need to give her some ointment and bandage her Majesty’s legs and arm for the bruising.” The healer warns Yoongi, not wanting to do anything to set him off.

The healer worked slowly under the watchful eye of Yoongi, wrapping up the cuts and bruising on your legs and the bruising on your arm before letting Yoongi know that you would need your legs rebandaged in the morning so he can make sure there was no infections but that you could go.

Yoongi relented, not liking the fact that this male was this close to his mate while she was unmarked. His dragon didn’t recognize the healer as safe, so he was on edge and practically flew you back to his room.

Once you were safe in his room, laying in his bed surrounded by his scent, only then could he begin to relax.

Next Chapter

[lyssaterald]

Take Flight, Lesson 8-1: Dragons and Demons

Smut...just that. DiavoloxLyssa. More fun plot development on the forming relationships.

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! FEMALE Named character and ANATOMY, and slight mentions of character’s past and history which ARE expanded on as they ARE slightly more than usually important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

References are made to previous chapters. See the Masterlist.

💖= Smut, Diavolo/Lyssa

-----

"Why is she sleeping like this?" Diavolo.

"How is she able to sleep like that?" Lucifer.

"No idea. I've found her sleepin' like this before, in the tree in her room." Mammon. "Didn' know she could sleep like this on people, though." His pact-bond flashed with jealousy again.

Identifying the voices of those around me was easy enough, as was the topic of their confusion. Somehow, I had managed to perch on Diavolo's side in our sleep and draped my arms over his chest and back and thrown my legs across his. Because of course I would.

Perching on something for sleep wasn't unusual. It provided a better defense than sleeping in a bed and it was generally more comfortable, depending on the weather. I had not, however, perched on someone in my life. Of course, I'd never really shared a bed with anyone unrelated in my life, either. Lucifer had still been going strong in lecture mode when I had fallen asleep sitting beside Diavolo. How I had ended up on his side probably spoke more to how Diavolo slept than me...probably.

As it stood...

"I know you're awake, Lys," Diavolo said, amusement lacing his voice.

...I pushed back from Diavolo with a grin, flapped my wings to gain space, and then spun and was off through the door.

Barbatos was in the hall with something in hand when I hit the wall, bounced off it and then sprang to the other wall behind him and was off running with a mad cackle. There was a bang behind me but I didn't stop to assess who was chasing, there was no need to.

-----

No matter how many times he said it to himself that their developing closeness didn't bother him, there was something in those interactions that fractured his pride, just a little. The look on Mammon's face said enough for the both of them. It wasn't a good feeling to be the ones left behind, no matter how hard they had pushed them away.

-----

Really, I should have learned from the day before. I had no idea where I was going and this really was Diavolo's home. For every turn that I took, his scent seemed to linger around the other and he kept prolonging the chase. The shadows twisted on each other and I turned a different direction, a sound in that direction and I went straight...

Arms around my waist and the breath was yanked from my lungs, the world was a swirl of color, and then cold stone to my back and hot lips covering mine. Silk beneath my claws parted much easier than his blazer of yesterday. His hands were under my shirt, tracing fingers over the soft flesh of my stomach as mine felt across the peaks and valleys of his abdomen. His skin was taut under my touch as I worked the shirt off his shoulders and my lips followed a path down his neck and fangs dug into his collarbone.

The grunt he gave when his flesh dented under my bite was a pleasing sound, so I lingered there and sucked a bruise into his skin. He wedged his thigh between mine and dragged the plane of his muscles against my core, making me gasp. Against my hip, I could feel the hardened length of his cock rubbing through the soft material of his sleep wear.

"Diavolo," I gasped and he chuckled against my neck.

"So reactive," he murmured, and one hand slid into my hair to tighten sharply and yank my head back. Teeth scraped against my pulse point and I growled at the sKIN-CrAWLInG shiver, jamming a palm into his face to dislodge the teeth.

"U-u-uhh-um," I stuttered. Heat was rushing from my belly to my neck and face when I clapped a hand over my mouth and the other to my shirt. I had never done such a thing before in my LIFE. Diavolo was blinking rapidly at me, like he was trying to process the information and had hit a snag.

"So," he began. "The side of your neck is fine, but was it the hair pulling or the throat that made you react?"

Was he...was he really...asking me what was and was not ok?

"The...throat," I said thickly.

"Bad experience or just a thing?"

"It's...just...too vulnerable...for a dragon." It was an act of submission to our ruler to give our throats, but he was asking me as part of this situation, checking in with me(?). Why?

To my confusion, he smiled. "Lys, I'm assuming you didn't mean to smack me in the face," he said gently and I shook my head. "See? So, that means it was something else that made you react." His fingers traced over my cheek as his smile widened into a grin. "You're attractive and interesting, but I'm not in the habit of taking an unwilling partner. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

The embarrassment was fading as his words took hold and increased the confusion. Humans partners had been easy because I was the stronger party and I hadn't been interested in someone unwilling. Dragons...we usually fought if we clashed in something that didn't meet both our tastes.

"Oh," was all I could think to say. Perhaps I had assumed that demons, or at least Diavolo, would be the same. But he wasn't. I knew that, had already seen and acknowledged several ways in which he was different from what I knew of dragons, but instinct was a tricky thing.

His smile faded a bit in the face of my silence. "We should stop here," he said. "I'm sure one of the Brothers would be glad to help you with your situation."

My fingers closed on the collar of his ruined shirt when he started to pull away and he paused with a quizzical look. "I'm okay, Diavolo," I said. "I really am. I'm just...used to a different reaction. I like you, I really do, and I like the way you make me feel. It's different, but it's also good." I was babbling then and I stopped, feeling the blush creeping up my ears, but he was smiling again and I had to view that as a good thing, or I was going to probably die of embarrassment before my Rut was done. But, if we were checking in with each other... "Do you...want...me to find someone else?"

My hands smoothed down his collar to his shoulders so he could pull away if he wanted to. I had dealt with rejection before, could do so again. There were other ways to get through a dragon's Rut, other demons that I could probably find who were compatible enough to fight or fuck with. There were ways I could balance the exchange program and the Rut without interfering with my responsibilities.

Diavolo startled a gasp out of me when he lifted me by the thighs, caged me against the stone wall with his body, and dipped in for a kiss. His tongue tangled with mine and heat stirred through my body again, starting at my core. My arms slid around his neck and my legs locked around his back as he rutted into me with those little movements that dragged his hardening length against my clothed slit.

He drew back, just a little, to say, "No, I don't."

-----

The door to the...office?...was smoother against my back than the stone wall had been. It was hard to care about our surroundings when Diavolo was exploring my body with teeth, tongue, and hands and making me arch into him with little gasps and moans. Heat was burning just beneath my skin everywhere he was touching me and making my head spin. Locking my ankles around his waist drew him as close as possible and made it easier to meet his thrusts.

I littered his collar bone and neck with little love bites, occasionally licking or sucking the fading marks. His hands moved from my breasts to my hips so he could hold me against his growing erection and grind into me.

It was a pleasant way to explore and map his body as my hands traveled the expanse of his chest and dipped teasingly towards the hem of his pants. His little grunts and moans just spurred me further as his grinding provided enough friction to satisfy me for now. He groaned when my hands slid back up his chest and paused to brush a thumb across his...bellybutton?...yes, a bellybutton. Interesting, but his teeth were sinking into my shoulder and that was more interesting.

He yanked my shirt open, sending buttons skittering out of sight. That earned him a laugh and he gave an amused rumble that vibrated back into my own chest. The bra straps snapped easily under his hands before his fingers were deftly rolling my nipples into peaks. Electricity was shooting through my entire body, my toes tingling with it.

Sweat was dripping down my back and I could see the sheen of it on Diavolo's skin. His neck and shoulder were tantalizingly exposed to me and, unable to resist, I bit that spot again. He gave a startled moan against my own skin and said, "Keep that up and I will take you across the desk." That was a growl and I pulled back to catch his half-lidded gaze.

Wait, there was a desk? A quick glance around confirmed, yes, a desk, a couple of chairs, and empty bookshelves around the room.

I just had to bite him again, that reaction was too tempting to not investigate, so I sank fangs into his shoulder hard enough to break skin, just a little. His blood was sweet and bitter and metallic and could be addictive.

His hand slammed into the wood next to my head, spraying splinters around, and startling me back. Only then did I notice him breathing shakily and trembling in my grasp. Worry crept into my stomach beneath the heat and I dropped my feet to the floor and slid fingers through his hair.

"Diavolo?" I asked softly. Had I crossed a line of his own?

He grasped my chin and tilted my head back enough that he could return the favor to the side of my neck and make me gasp in pleasure and pain. His tongue ran carefully over the marks he had made and his weight against me was the only thing keeping me upright.

His hands slipped to my ass, gave a brief squeeze and then lifted me by the back of my thighs. Keeping his mouth on my neck, he walked us to the desk and gently set me atop its surface before he settled himself between my legs and yanked me as close as possible, his erection rubbing against my clothed slit again.

"Lean back, sweetling," he commanded me and I shivered with his tone as I complied. Golden eyes slid across my breasts and down before flickering to my eyes and the blush that was creeping us my back. "You're lovely when you're blushing." I blushed harder and I just knew it was spreading down my chest with his chuckle. His fingers fingers slid into the hem of my pants and he watched me closely as he slid the last cloth barriers over my raised hips and then let me kick them the rest of the way off. He leaned over me and gave my neck a kiss, his breath feathering over my ear as he huskily asked, "How many times do you think I can make you cum on my fingers before your wet hole is ready for me to fuck?"

What the fuck?! My brain froze with the way he uttered those words and was running his tongue along the shell of my ear.

"Just fuck me, Diavolo," I groaned, forgetting for a second how big he had felt against my hip.

"Mmm, not yet." He took my hand and guided me to rub him though the soft material. He was...big. "Unless you've been one of my longtime lovers, the initial stretch could hurt, a lot."

Jealousy was not a useful emotion, but there it was. And there it was stuffed away. We will not go down that line of thought.

"Fine," I huffed.

He drew back and traced his fingers down my abdomen to rub a thumb over my core and then there was uncertainty in his eyes when he glanced up and I hadn't reacted much to his touch. Had he never had a human lover before? While I watched his eyes and traced fingers along my own stomach, he watched my hand as I parted the trimmed hairs and spread my labia to tease at the head of my clit with one finger. I dropped my head back and groaned.

Diavolo huffed a laugh before he was touching he, softly at first and then mimicking the pace and circular pattern I was showing him. I touched his wrist and our eyes met before I was rotating his hand and pressing hand thumb to my clit and putting pressure on his index finger to guide his first finger into my core.

"Th-this is...easier...for you," I said, but he had begun pressing his finger deeper into me, past the first knuckle and then the second. My hips rocked towards him as he withdrew to the first knuckle and kept his thrusts shallow.

Until I was sobbing and clenching around his one finger. I was leaning on my elbows and my head was tilted back.

"So tight," he teased.

Bastard. He was doing this on purpose, probably trying to test some of my limits. Well, fine.

"Diavolo. Please." Had I just whimpered? He pushed another finger into me to the first knuckle and (ok, fine I had whimpered) rocked them deeper into me when I gasped and arched up in pleasure. Out of the corner of my eye, he dropped his head towards me and I caught a glimpse of fangs. He was going for my throat.

I dropped my chin and turned my head so he went for the side of my neck instead. Fangs scraped against the meat of my neck and I groaned, reaching one hand for his chest and balancing on one elbow as I felt downwards and then slipped one hand into his pants, fumbling until I slipped the boxers he was wearing down just enough I could get my fingers around him. I met the pace he was using on me and he bucked against me with a warning growl. Tightening and twisting my grip drew a gasp and a hard thrust.

Chuckling at his reaction, I struck his shoulder again, barely noting he was already healed from my last bite. I had sunk fangs into him when he thrust his fingers sharply and added a third. Stars were bursting in front of my eyes as I clenched down on him and came hard. My grip was tight on his cock and he was pulsing dangerously in my hand.

My scream was muffled into his shoulder as he continued to thrust his fingers and kept me on the edge of a second orgasm. I released him so I could slide my arms around his neck. It put me flat on my back but I was past caring as I chased a second high, but three fingers was also stretching me out and making me wince.

He was rocking me on the edge of another orgasm and had kept me there for several long minutes before he whispered to me, "Beg. Desperation...looks...good on you....indulge me just a...little longer."

"No," I growled, releasing his shoulder and rumbling the noise in my chest and stomach. He huffed a laugh and nipped at my ear before his thumb pressed tightly against my clit and the circular motions he was making had arching into him with a gasp of, "Dia."

He groaned with that. "Are you ready, Lys? I...hah...don't think...I can...hold back much longer."

The stretch of his fingers in me was still making me wince a little, but I didn't care. "Fuck me, Diavolo." He groaned and removed his hand, making me clench down on nothing and give my own frustrated whine.

There was the soft whisper of his clothes over his own hips and then he was running the head of his cock against my slit and had me shuddering. One hand came to rest on my hip as he asked, "My turn, sweetling. Hard or fast?"

"Both," I hissed, arching up into his chest and trying to thrust into him him. His hand held me in place as he began to rock into me, making us both moan. "Dia."

"Both, hm?" He mused, slowly rocking himself into me inch by inch. I was held between his hips and the desk, unable to do anything except to try and meet his thrusts. The stretch was borderline painful and made my eyes water, but the pleasure was louder when he hilted himself inside of me. He paused to give me a moment to adjust but I was squirming against him. He tweaked a nipple and caught my attention. "What if we did neither?"

I could only groan at with the frenzied need he had stirred up. "Diavolo. Please."

His lips on my neck turned into a sharp nip and drew a gasp from me. Another at my ear and then a scattering of love bites as revenge for those that I had given him earlier. He started a gentle rhythm of fucking into me and his fingers slowly circling on my clit had me groaning in frustration.

-----

Against his better judgement, Lucifer had sent Mammon off to get the others gathered in the dining room and had followed after the sweetly tantalizing smell of Rut pheromones. With Diavolo's scent woven through it, he was almost assuming that Diavolo's Rut had awakened early, except that they had gone through the last one together and that hadn't been terribly long ago.

He followed their scents through a twisting path that took him deeper into the castle. Along the way, he made sure to neutralize their scents with a certain spell. Best to keep the rumors at a minimum and keep his Brothers from being able to try and track them. Lucifer rounded the last corner and stopped in his tracks when the separate scents finally registered.

Lyssa was the one starting a Rut and she had become the object of Diavolo's attention, to which she hadn't been objecting. Lucifer wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he had started pushing Diavolo towards her as he seemed to develop an interest in the exchange program. Certainly, he hadn't been expecting to be standing in front of an empty office listening to his former lover fornicating with the human, dragon he had to remind himself. Somehow, that was better than human, but was it?

Was it really cheating when he had ended their relationship and pushed them towards each other?

[lua-magic]

North node and your hidden dragon.🐲

North node is expansion, observation, think big, think out of box, desires and obsession in life.

North node and south node are shadow planets, it is extremely hard to define and express these two planets as they hold so much within them which cannot be seen or understood.

That is the reason people misunderstand them, and think them as demonic planet that put eclipse even on sun or moon, which are king and queen of your chart.

North and South node are two planets that help you to achieve all your desires not only in this plane but also after death bring liberation to your soul.

People and astrologers knows only aspect " North node is desire and illusion but south node is detachment and liberation"

But, they don't know what north node and south node can get you, no other planets can bring you, they are extremely powerful, powerful even than sun and moon.

That is why studying their conjunction with planets and how to align with them to manifest things you desire is extremely important.

I can write thousand pages about these two planets but still won't be able to do full justice to the power that they hold on human life.

Good north and south node in your chart or Aligning to their energy will bring you everything in life that you deserve because only and only these two planets has the capacity and Power to get you everything in life, for what you have come on this material realm.

If these planets are exalted you will enjoy and get everything in life that you deserve and that you are worthy of.

So pay attention to your these two planet conjunction.

North node has got only head 😶‍🌫️ so it is great in observation, logic and taking about facts and figures.

South node is intuive while north node is expressive.

With north node Intuition doesn't work you have to observe it and express it

Wait I will explain it in details with conjunctions.

So I am going to explain you how you can allign with the energy of your chart.

Jupiter and noth node conjunction.

In vedic astrology this combination is considered as one of the most unlucky combination because it is said to block the divine blessings of the Jupiter, but here trick is that Jupiter is behaving like North node and not like pure love and light which is character of Jupiter.

So, as I mentioned north node is expansion, here, native should always think big in his life

You should think like North node, native main focus area should be "manifestation of all your desires through your knowledge" because Jupiter is knowledge and north node is desire.

You should always have goals in life and you need to apply your spiritual knowledge in manifesting that desires then your conjunction will work on in you favour.

North node is expansion so, always have broad thinking, think big.

Think how you can expand yourself more in terms of material wealth and success.

Yes, day dream, vissiualse, work on your material sucess.

Unlike Jupiter and south node, that detaches you from material world pull you deep into spirituality.

Nort Node loves to express, so probably your favourite meditation is where you can express yourself freely like dance and music.

While Jupiter with South node loves to sit and go into void and gets detached easily from mind and body .

Moon and north node conjunction.

There are so many misinformations and misunderstanding about this conjunction because astrologers also don't know exactly how to align with this energy and simply call them " Eclipse" in your chart.🌑

Now here one this sure, north node is demonic planet it is not pure and devine, and moon is emotions, so your emotions will be mostly negative, or you attract negativity easily.

But, is it, that if someone who has this combination never becomes successful?

One of the most successful author  J.K. Rowling has this combination.

So, how to allign here?

As, i mentioned before north node is observation, and this line is true for every one who has any planet in conjunction with north node," Start observing people like whom you want to become " your north node will improve.

Stay away from any kind of negativity and toxicity even if it is in the form of news or family.

Moon with north node should avoid any kind of toxicity and only observe good and abundant people in life, read about them, listen about them, see them, surround yourself with your idol.

Such natives should always have one idol in life like whom they want to become and start following them, do whatever your idol does, just behave like them and one day you will become them.

"Fake it till you make it". That is why north node is illusion they are good in it..

Use vision board in every corner put photo of your idol and start behaving like them, something like "Alter ego" that celebraties uses.

Yes, you need to have alter ego, then your North node will give you excellent results.

Venus with north node or Saturn with north node.

Saturn with north node is considered is one combination for evil spirit or evil eye.

Ok, here I am not mentioning negative of any combination but only positivity.

Venus is money, noth node is expansion, such natives should only and only think about expansion of money, and never ever be insecure about your money.

Keep asking yourself how could you, make your money 10x all the time, Only one thought should occupy your mind "make my money 10x."

Never be insecure about your finances otherwise you will damage your Venus, always think big in terms of money, I mean I am talking about making your money double and not about shopping and spending money.

Don't save, invest.

Saturn is work and Rahu is expansion.

Always think about expanding your work more, never be insecure in job or work.

Always pay attention how could you expand yourself in your work life then your Saturn and Rahu will give good results.

For example someone offers you manager post, so your thought should be " Next how can I become CEO"? Instead thinking what if they fire me?

Think big always in terms of your work.

Mars rahu.

I have written so much about it already, so only one point I want to add which I never mentioned nor any astrologers will tell you,

Especially, with regards to females, always go for highly and highly ambitious husband and illectutuals never go to spiritual husband otherwise your north node will give bad results, and in terms of relationship be observant, pay attention to what your husband or partner likes and dislikes, that would help you to feel more secured in relationship.

For Mars Ketu female go for spiritual and simple husband, your south node will give good results.

Mercury and Rahu conjunction:

Mercury are friends and Rahu is circle, so be careful about your circle especially friends, your network is networth, if you want to manifest something or become successful, make friends with successful people, you will become what you surround yourself with so pay attention with whom you are spending your time with.

Guys now please ever tell me your north node or south node is debilitated and giving you bad results...😞

[fresh-new-yoik-watah]

Duplicity

CHAPTER THREE

a/n: someone asked me what proofread meant

pairing: Hiccup x OC

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

MASTERLIST

——————————

The Great Hall was alive with almost the entire clan for the evening meal, the warm glow of fire pits cast flickering shadows across the long wooden tables laden with food and drunk Vikings. There was a scent of roasted fish and lamb that filled the air. Hiccup sat at the head of one table, surrounded by his friends—Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Astrid—while Valka and Eret shared a quieter corner, punctuated by the occasional clink of metal on wood.

Gobber, bustling about with his usual vigor, moved to pour Fishlegs' food into a large bowl. A furrow of worry had settled on Hiccup’s brow, contrasting Gobber’s jovial demeanor, unease gnawing at him as he thought of the stranger in his home being watched by Toothless, the need to rebuild Berk, and the growing present threat of dragon hunters.

“I don’t mean to be an alarmist,” Gobber spoke, pulling Hiccup out of his thoughts, “but one day you’re going to run out of room for strays.”

Hiccup, already overwhelmed, waved a dismissive hand. “The stables have plenty of space. We can expand further into the mountain if we need to.” He did his best to keep his voice steady, but he was stressed and it did not go unnoticed.

Gobber and Valka, having paused her discussion with Eret, shared a knowing look, the kind that spoke volumes without the need for words. “And what if trappers show up here?” Gobber pressed, his voice rising slightly.

Hiccup straightened, meeting Gobber’s gaze. “We’ll do what we’ve always done,” he replied, “protect our home, and our dragons.”

Gobber scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I think you’ve taken up too much too soon.” His tone was gruff, accent heavy, but there was underlying affection in his reprimand. The flames from the fires cast dancing shadows across Gobber’s weathered face, highlighting the deep lines etched by years of worry and care.

Valka’s voice cut through the clamor of the Great Hall, “He’s right, you know, about carrying too much.” Her tone was laced with maternal concern, empathy that wrapped around him like a warm blanket, but Hiccup remained silent. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tightness in his chest.

“You can ask for help,” she urged, her eyes searching his face for some flicker of acknowledgement.

Hiccup’s mind spun, a battle of doubts and responsibilities within him, the desire to be strong, to shoulder the burden of their clan’s safety and the well-being of the dragons, but there was a growing whisper of exhaustion, one that seemed to especially creep in during the hours of the night, when the world would go still. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words eluded him.

Valka noticed his hesitance. “Your father was chief for a long time, most of it without the unification of dragons and Vikings,” she tried to ease his mind, to remind him that he existed with entirely different circumstances. She decided to shift the direction of their conversation when Hiccup still didn’t reply. “I’ll bring the girl some dinner,” she said, referring to Aja.

Hiccup sighed as she left, returning his attention to his friends who were deep in discussion about their next rescue mission.

Astrid settled into the wooden bench across from Hiccup, ignoring the curious glances from Snotlout and Fishlegs, their eyebrows raised in amusement at her sudden decision to sit with Hiccup.

“So,” she said, “she’s staying with you?”

Hiccup looked up from his thoughts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “What?” He asked.

“The girl,” Astrid clarified.

“I, uh,” he stumbled over his words, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Until the scouts get back,” he answered, watching Astrid’s face, then added, “We don’t have stables for humans.”

He did his best to alleviate the tension between them, charged with their shared history and the promise of a future that would no longer happen. He was still learning how to navigate this new dynamic, despite it being a year since they split.

Astrid slowly nodded. Her own feelings were complicated too—layers of friendship and a bond forged through shared battles and adventures. “Did you find out where she was sailing to?” She asked.

Hiccup internally winced, knowing she would be less trusting than him, but answered. “She said they were actually coming here, to establish trade with Berk.” The admission hung in the air, Astrid’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before she masked it with a practiced calmness. It was a little too coincidental, a little too neat.

She leaned forward. “Do you trust her?” She echoed the question he had posed to her just days prior. Hiccup hesitated, thinking of the pieces of Aja’s story, about what he could be missing from it. But her arrival had stirred something that was long dormant, his curiosity for new things, his desire for adventure.

Against his better judgment, Hiccup found himself saying, “I think so.” It was a leap into the unknown, a step into murky waters, the depths still uncharted.

Astrid knew he struggled with the balance of his instincts and desire to see good in people, but she also knew he wouldn’t listen to her, so she would just have to watch his back for him. “Just be careful,” she warned, her voice low enough to ensure their conversation remained private. “We both know how quickly things can change.” She left him alone again, returning back to sit with the other riders.

Aja stood in the dim light of Hiccup’s home, illuminated by the crackling fireplace. Her fingers gently traced the glued together edges of a massive map unfurled before her. It was originally folded up into a book, Toothless had brought it to her, drool from his mouth making the leather cover slimy. The plate of food Valka had brought for her sat untouched on the wooden table, and Toothless eyed it longingly as the aroma of meats filled the air, but Aja’s attention was consumed entirely by the map. It stretched across the floor like a painted canvas. The details were astonishing; each island, each bay, each forest, were drawn with a meticulous attention to detail that spoke of countless hours spent observing and recording, a labor poured into every inch. She assumed Hiccup had created it, and she felt as if she were peering into his mind, seeing the world through his eyes.

Valka had left Aja to go on a night patrol with her dragon, so the creaking of the front door startled her as she turned to see Hiccup stepping inside.

His eyes went wide at the sight of his map sprawled across the flood, and Aja felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. “I’m sorry!” She exclaimed. “Toothless brought it to me, I didn’t know what it was—“

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he approached. Toothless, now perched directly beside Aja’s plate of food, let out a soft, affirming noise. Hiccup pulled the plate away, giving his dragon a stern look.

He knelt beside her, his eyes falling upon the map with nostalgia, reminding him of his days exploring the world, days that were barely that long ago. He pointed to a dense cluster of trees that marked the backside of Berk. “That’s where we found you,” he said.

Aja leaned closer, watching as he dragged his finger along the paper, moving towards the edge of Berk where the ocean began. “You probably shipwrecked here,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer note.

Aja yearned to be out there, to search for answers herself, but she couldn’t just yet, not when her body still felt like a fragile vessel. She thought of the things that could’ve happened to her had she not been found, imagining her corpse being left to rot on the forest floor.

“Thank you for what you’re doing, for saving me, letting me stay here,” she said, her voice quiet, laced with sincerity.

Hiccup blinked, unprepared for the gratitude from her. The logical part of him, the part honed by countless encounters with danger and betrayal, reminded him to stay wary, to keep his guard up even if he did begin to trust her. Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and hard to rebuild. Yet, as he looked into her blue eyes, he saw a flicker of himself, something that mirrored his own internal struggle, a shared understanding.

“You’re welcome.”

[dark-elf-writes]

Feral teen mom Harry au

Aoyoma recognising the name Harry Potter and Teddy Lupin because while he might be a squib and quirk less, his parents still talked to his cousin’s family. They thought Harry had been killed, and his baby taken to be experimented on.

They are the first one to reach out to Harry, all fake smiles and supplies in their hands. They make sure Harry never has to pick someone for soarring, because he is so scared of trusting anyone.

They eat lunch together, in the garden of UA, by a shrine.

(Harry always felt more comfortable closer to death, and Aoyoma had been walking hand in hand with it for three years.)

Tokoyami is the next one to become his friend, after Harry rescues him from being jumped because while he might be a hero in training he still freezes, and they had lights so he can’t even rely on Dark Shadow. Harry lets him sit with him and Aoyoma, and no one ever asks if he’s okay when he comes in on the verge of tears, a text on his phone. Harry simple hands him a tissue, and tries to not stare at how more often than not, Tokoyami only has an apple or a bowl of rice.

Tokoyami never brings up how he knows about Harry’s backstory, having heard it in whispers in the bathrooms of punk shows he snuck into, trying to escape the world at large. When Harry trusts him, he will come to Tokoyami and Dark Shadow.

The others are nice enough, but these three have a connection none of the others ever will know.

Starting school after so long on the run is an… adjustment.

Harry is older than the rest of the class, knows more about there world at large, has seen things that would send most of them running for cover and yet academically speaking they could all run circles around him. He nearly loses his temper on the first day when Bakugou started screaming, startling Teddy from his nap (Harry had refused to leave Teddy behind on his first day even if the apartment he was given was nicer than anything he has seen since leaving home, and Kreature was perfectly capable of watching over a baby for a few hours. He couldn’t. Not yet. The very thought of it made him feel like he was going to fly apart at any minute. So he had come with a sling to settle Teddy in and his school bag pack with the supplies he would need. Eraserhead had not even bothered to look surprised to see an infant in his classroom.)

Harry barely notices the reactions to his name (two, both mostly hidden but there for someone who knows how to look) too busy snarling at Bakugou before Eraserhead breaks it up. But they do notice him.

Aoyama had once tamed a feral kneazle back in France, using food and gentle word to lure it closer day by day until it came to him willingly. They had to leave it behind when he came to Japan.

Befriending Harry was shockingly similar, down to the hisses and snarls when they made the mistake of moving too quickly. But Harry warms up to them and stands at their side, a constant shadow standing guard.

(They wonder, selfishly, if Harry would fight for them. Would slay the dragon that waits for them if they asked. Would kill the boogeyman in their closet like he had done twice before already.)

Tokoyami, surprisingly, has the opposite situation happen, with Harry claiming him all at once and having to come to terms with what that means. He knows the lengths Harry would go to protect those he cares for, has heard it whispered again and again in seedy back alleys and dirty bathrooms that smell like piss and cheap booze. It scares him as much as it comforts him to know that there is someone in his corner no matter what. That he won’t have to worry about what people will do to him because he’s a mutant. That there is someone who won’t run because he is a monster in their eyes.

He promises himself and Dark Shadow that they will protect Harry like he protected them. That their friend will not need to get his hands dirty on their behalf again because they will not stumble.

Harry watches them with eyes that are too sharp, too knowing, too old. He bares his teeth at them when they annoy him and growls at his homework (years behind where they are but quickly catching up). He is the best friend either of them have ever made.

[koushuwu]

hi hello!!!!!!! what is this about your story? please sit and tell me everything do you prefer coffee or tea I have both

hi hello! hi! ooooh, let me tell ya! have a seat as well, it might be a long one. let’s get comfy! <3

i started writing a book, like — six years ago? it the time i did not have my plot fleshed out nearly enough which landed me in a massive writers block, and i ended up deciding it was time to start over. same universe. same (main) characters. same essential base plot. but this time i would take the time to flesh out my plot and my storyline and my characters. properly work it through before starting the writing process again. i never did. i’ve tried a couple of times and i have figured out bits and bops here and there. but never really got back into it. flash forward to last night, me in the car listening to this song and things just came rushing back.

ANYWAY. so this story is essentially an omegaverse, but since i’ve been plotting my way out of a lot of things, it somewhat removed from what omegaverses are often portrayed as. i use pheromones as a base for my magic system, and my two main characters, liam and kaizer, are a fated pair. but this is about as far as the omegaverse thing actually goes at this point.

set i an fantasy world obviously with magic, dragons and sword fight. liam is “omega”, but he owns it. he’s somewhat of a slut and i love him for that. since he was born, he’s always known that he was destined to put an end to the terror of a specific “alpha” that’s been looming like a dark shadow over the lands. he knows this bc people who release his kind of pheromones are rare. and the only thing than can seal away “the villain”’s magic, is sealing their pheromones. aka a “mating bond.” for which there needs to be an “omega”. so he know’s this is what he’s supposed to do. he’s a peace with it and for this reason he feels like he might as well fuck around bc he’ll never have the chance to be with someone anyway.

enter kaizer and his sister genesis. the three of them has known each other always. but not before liam’s pheromones starts releasing, (well into his twenties), does kaizer and liam realize that they are supposed to be a fated pair. albeit liam knows the part he’s supposed to play and he won’t let that go.

the three of them will then set out to achieve the goal of sealing “the villain”. and there may or may not be love in the air. there may or may not be fay and parties and drunk kaizer having sexual fantasies about liam.

there’s sacrifices. there’s swordplay. sparing. deep late night talks. feelings. long lost family members thought dead, resurfacing. all that jazz.

atp i have the prologue in my head ready for writing. and the real opening scene of chapter one. meeting liam as he tiptoes from a room with two naked sleeping bodies tangled in the sheets after a wild night, casually strolling to the training grounds to spar with genesis. and i am going to write today. i will write these two scenes because i am so excited to finally play with my guys again. and then i will finally rework the plot from there.

i originally started the story when they set out on their quest. this time, i’m gonna move it back. give them the chance to evolve. give liam’s magic a chance to manifest. to be out of control and to be tamed in time.

and then, when i’m all done, i have a whole book two in my head as well. of different worlds, fearie kings and fight for said family that was believed long lost. i’m excited. it’s wonderful. and i really hope i can keep at it this time!

idk, i just wanted to gush about it a little bit. thank you for letting me talk 👉👈🥹💕🩷

[wreywrites]

Coin of the Gods

When Aegon dies at Rook's Rest, Aemond becomes king and must live with the consequences.

A/N: Y'all this was supposed to be funny (got to thinking more after I made this post) but I sat down and started typing and blacked out and was apparently possessed by the spirit of GRRM because... this is not funny. A version of Aemond lives in my mind that actually mellows with age but it is not this Aemond. Warnings: Non-graphic deaths, mention of suicide, depression

Aegon didn’t deserve to be king. Aegon didn’t deserve a lot of things.

Aegon is already dead.

That’s what he tells himself when he finds them. Sunfyre is dying—Vhagar could fly him back to the Dragonpit, but why? He’ll be dead in a month anyway.

Sunfyre is dying. Aegon is already dead.

They had been friends once, hadn’t they? If they had, he can’t remember.

He remembers a pig with wings, Aegon cackling with glee as he drags Aemond through the streets on his name day, the disgust in his eyes whenever someone showed Aemond any special attention, an egg that never hatched.

No, they had never been friends. Not even as children. Certainly not now.

Aegon is already dead.

“Dracarys,” he says.

Someone shouts behind him; he barely hears it over the roar of Vhagar’s breath as she incinerates Sunfyre and Aegon.

“Aegon was already dead,” he whispers over the screams of the dying dragon.

Cole is shouting, screaming. “What the hell happened?”

“Sunfyre would never have survived.”

“But the king—!”

“The king is dead.”

~~~

Daeron crowns him.

The crown sits heavy on his brow, heavy, they say, so he who wears it never forgets the weight of his responsibility.

Well.

His shoulders are strong.

~~~

King Aemond Targaryen is not beloved by the small folk. He is not the Realm’s Delight, not the Brave, not he Conciliator, not even the Queen Who Never Was.

He is the Kinslayer and the Kingkiller, but that will be enough.

No one laughs at him now.

~~~

Helaena falls farther into grief and madness and he can do nothing for her. He and Daeron and Cole lead the army and though they are outnumbered by Rhaenyra’s dragons, he has Vhagar, and one by one they fall.

It does not matter that he is winning. Not to those around him.

All the small council worries about is who will inherit the throne, what marriage will provide the best alliance.

All Alicent says is, “Aemond, you must take a wife, produce an heir—”

But he doesn’t want a wife, he doesn’t need a wife, he needs an heir.

He has an heir.

He has Jaehaera.

Jaehaera who walks to small council meetings with him, who clambers up the steps of the throne to sit on his knee while he hears petitions, who sings to Morghul and Helaena and the cats who replaced the ratcatchers after Aegon hanged them all.

~~~

“Jaehaera,” he says quietly, leaning forward as he sits cross-legged in front of her, playing with the little wooden dragons.

She tilts her head, beaming at him.

“Jaehaera, I am proud of you. You are a brave girl, and beloved by all, and you make your family proud. When I die, you will be queen.”

She frowns, like she can’t imagine a world in which he could die.

He could. He imagines that world every day.

“And until then, I will teach you everything I know.”

So he does. He teaches her to fly, to speak High Valyrian, to fight with a sword and a spear and her words, sharp as steel even as her heart is soft.

~~~

He looks to Helaena and she knows, she knows what he did. She knows the sounds of the screams he hears in the small hours of the night.

~~~

King Aemond Targaryen is not beloved by the small folk.

And if whispers of Maegor follow him around, what does he care? Maegor had been king, had he not?

And he is not cruel—he will never be cruel—but he does rule. He is the king, after all.

~~~

King Aemond is beloved by the army. They will follow where he leads, cheering Vhagar’s shadow and Blackfyre’s flash.

Cole, however, cannot be trusted. He watches too closely. He schemed without Aegon when he was king, he is like to scheme without Aemond now.

Cole dies in an ambush, and new generals rise up to take his place.

~~~

He looks to Alicent, to Otto, to Daeron. They incline their heads. “Your Grace,” they call him, even as they tell him what to do.

“Marry,” Otto tells him. “Forge an alliance.”

“Sire heirs,” Alicent tells him. “Strengthen your claim and your line.”

“Remember your betrothed,” Daeron winks. “I hear she yet draws breath.”

He doesn’t want Floris Baratheon. He doesn’t want any of them.

He wanted Lucerys alive and locked in a dungeon somewhere, he wanted Helaena to be safe and happy, he wanted Daemon to admit he was afraid of him.

He wants now to marry Daeron off to the daughter of the first lord that comes asking. Let him have Floris Baratheon, if she still draws breath. Let him forge an alliance and sire children, but let him also be gone.

~~~

They eye the throne, all of them.

They wait for the day Aemond falls in battle so they may put another puppet on the throne just as they did when Viserys died.

Aemond does not fall.

He watches Otto live out his years, many of them, before the old man simply does not wake one morning.

Daemon and Jacaerys die above Harrenhal and Vhagar roars her victory to the Riverlands.

Helaena’s grief eats at her, a cancerous growth born of Jaehaerys’s murder and fed by every deed since. She pitches herself from the window of her room. Dreamfyre is a formidable fighter, but she will not go to battle without a rider.

Aemond and Daeron fly alone.

Rhaena disappears; Baela betrays Rhaenyra; the wild dragons and the riderless dragons fall to the small folk, and when the people of King’s Landing storm the Dragonpit and kill every dragon there, Aemond is over Dragonstone, killing Syrax and Rhaenyra.

The war—his war—takes them all. There are no dragons left but Vhagar, no Targaryens left but him and the girl who watches him with such wide eyes.

The Last Dragon, they call him to his face. To his back he is the Mad Dragon, as the years wear on, but the Keep has ears, and the Dragon knows.

No one laughs at him. Not for a long time now.

~~~

Her mother is dead and his mother is dead and there is no one left and he cries as he sits on the Iron Throne in the small hours of the night.

Sometimes Jaehaera comes down barefoot from her room and sits at the foot of the throne and stares at him, a thousand years of heartbreak in her eyes, and he stares back.

Whose eye stares from the socket, he wonders. Can he even lay claim to it anymore? Is it Lucerys’s? Does his niece see Daemon looking back at her?

She looks like Helaena but sometimes Aegon and sometimes Viserys but mostly he sees Rhaenyra when he looks at her and someday he will die and all this will be done and he wonders what would have happened had he never been born, had his egg hatched, had Aegon lived, had he sided with the Blacks to spite Aegon, had he forgiven Lucerys.

He will always wonder, and so will they.

[wolfcubx2]

The Bond Unbreakable

"Everyone knows the story, a boy who wouldn't kill a dragon, the first, well second. We were the first to fly them, and we are the last. (Hiccup places his head on toothless' then tells him to go) but the story everyone knows isn't quite the truth. Many stopped believing we were human even before the dragons left, we rode them and we flew like them, we did the impossible. The truth is we didn't stop being human until that night. (Astrid and Hiccup are laying together in a clearing in the woods by a cliff staring at the moon as a shadow passes quickly over it) it all starts that night and we had just barely mange to escape the crowd of drunk vikings having left the visiting Dagger and Mala in charge, they were there for Astrid's and I's wedding, and to see off the last their dragons,  our allies had gathered in the islands around us so we could protect the dragons by keeping others away.(the GREAT Protecter is seen flying over the ocean, as the berserkers say their farewells to their dragons)   We had escaped to a small clearing just a little ways from the village with an over look of the sea, we found just a few weeks before and I had snuck a bedding set over just before the wedding. We lay there just enjoying each other's company as we watched the moon. We were just finishing a deep kiss when Astrid pointed out the shadow that had just crossed the moon, "It's probably just a stray dragon, ", I pointed out,'there were still a few that hadn't stopped leaving The Hidden World.'

"But", I started She just smirked and flipped me on my back, sitting on me she then kissed me again. My shirt was already off and her's was halfway when something landed behind us. We quickly fixed our clothes before turning around to see a very anxious and worried looking Toothless. He had brought the other's dragons to get them as well.

"What's wrong bud, did something happen", I asked after he had basically thrown me on to his back Astrid climbing on behind me as I did.

"Do you thinking someone else found it", she asked as Toothless took off.

" I don't know, something has Toothless on edge though, so much so that he came for our help" I answered.

"It must be pretty bad he even brought the twins", she said pointing to the other dragons rising from New Berk.

"Yeh he even brought us", repeated Tuffnut, It wasn't just the twins they had collected the all the  riders my bud really trusted Fishlegs, Snotlout, Heather, and Dagger, Mala, and my mother.

"Do have any idea why they're here Hiccup", Mother asked.

"No, but something is definitely wrong", I said.

"Ha, maybe that lightfury mate of his got smart left him for something smarter", said Snotlout to which Toothless growled threateningly.

"Should of just left him", Astrid said to Toothless.

"You know he might actually be on to something", I said only to get a *huh* and to be hit by one of Toothless' ears," not about her leaving you, she in trouble isn't she bud?" He cooed in response telling me my guess was right.

"So that's what happened, but what could have happened to make him think he needed to get us", said Fishlegs.

"I don't know, but what ever it is they need our help", I said we flew in silence the rest of the proof that even the twins were worried. There was a small gasp of awe from the others as we entered the nest, but it didn't really steady anyone's nevers. Our speed continued rising even as we zoomed into the nest, before coming to screeching halt,  just out side a small cave carved into the large glowing stone Astrid and I had seen Toothless on the last time we were here.

" is she in there?", I asked him, he cooed before looking a the cave and edging forward carefully.

"Somethings in there, and what ever it is it's scaring the dragons", said Astrid I just nodded before following Toothless.  The inside of the cave was dark and smooth, like something someone had carved, I wasn't even sure it was stone it almost seemed like metal.

"This is not natural", said Mala as she rubbed her hand across the wall.

"She's right this stone or what ever it is is smooth and cold like ice, or metal. Not even you could make something like this Brother", followed Dagger before laughing nervously.

"Loki is probably behind this", offered Fishlegs. To which the twins smile brightly before saying.

"Oh thank you oh great Loki for finding in your heart to prank us your great followers", stated Ruffnut as Tuff nodded happily behind her.

"Oh gods, I hope this isn't a prank from Loki", states Heather.

"It probably isn't otherwise we be some small animal by now", said Astrid.

"Or have fish heads", I joked.

"Come on guys this is no time for that, you don't want to get cursed do you", said Fishlegs.

"Fishlegs is right", said Heather.

"Aww but we do", said the twins together to which everyone shook their heads. We walked farther in to the cave before we realized that of the dragons only Toothless was still with us his ears swaying nervously as we walked. Half way through the tunnel a line down the ceiling started to glow.

"Oh Thor... Oh Thor", Fishlegs repeated nervously.  As we walked deeper a new light flickered into existence. Continuing we started to notice what looked like doors, but they would open on there own, sliding upwards when we approached them. Then we heard it, a dragon call and it was definitely the lightfury, as soon as we heard it Toothless took off running towards the sound. We chased after him and found her in one of the rooms; trapped by an invisible wall. Toothless rushed forward and was stopped by it as well, that's how we new it was there.

"Oh gods", exclaimed Astrid as we all panicked slightly excepting the twin; who were laughing there heads off.

"Everyone calm down and try not to touch anything", I stated.

"Um brother you don't think this might actually be loki's handy work do you", asked a slightly nervous Dagger before we heard a beep. We turned to see the twin messing with a board covered in buttons.

"Didn't I just say not to touch anything", I exclaimed as a glowing woman made of light appeared in the center of the room." modus operandi er na- húrin, minn- code eneg-toloth-tád na commence", she said in a language we could not understand. "Lamb ú- recognise adjusting. " by the time she finshed her second sentence we could understand her.

In surprise Fishlegs had backed up and tripped over a lever pushing it down just as the twins slammed their hands on the board shouting nonsense.

" hicctoz mína groncnats", they yelled, Ruff said the first then Tuff, and then together."procedure beginning", the lady said before disappearing. Soon more of the invisible wall appeared separating us into groups of two.

"Hiccup", Astrid yelled as she banged on the walk separating us the wall separating her from the lightfury was gone, not that it mattered as they were both trying to get through to me and Toothless. Pulling out my sword I lit it before trying to cut through the wall, it wasn't working. I took a step back and looked around the room, Dagger and Snotlout were together, as were my Mother and Mala, twin together as well, and Fishlegs was with Heather. I looked over at Astrid and noticed a purplish Gas rising from the floor.

"Everyone calm down, and try not to breathe in to much of that gas*cough*", I yelled to be sure that they heard me. But it was to late the room was already almost full of the gas, no matter how we tried we  were already starting to breathe it in. The little bit that I had inhaled already had my head spinning, I couldn't think straight, but just in case I put out my sword before trying to stab it into the ground under the wall. I watched as the others collapsed, Astrid leaned against the wall and put her hand up to mine just before she passed out. My head spinning I just sat against the wall and tried to see the others but the purple gas was blocking them from me.

"*cough* I don't *cough* know wh*cough* what this is bu*cough*bud, but *cough* we'll *cough* mak.... It", I muttered as Toothless laid his head in my lap. My entire body felt numb, as something dragged me in to a small room just a bit bigger than me before I felt something stab me before I passed out..

Small wires moved across the floor to the unconscious Vikings and slowly pulled them in to separate tubes. Most of the tubes were nearly identical, except for a few differing broken parts, except two both of which were a set of two tubes connected together with one much larger than the other. As soon as the Vikings were in them the tubes sealed shut. Hiccup groans as a set of 10 syringes injects him with a strange substance, it is the same for the others, but unlike him, Astrid and the dragons, they have only four intact syringes and unlike Astrid's his had not been disconnected from the full tank by damage. Long after the other tubes stop his and Toothless' are still going, as the injection stops the tube then takes some of his and Toothless' blood and mix them together before adding them to a new chemical and injecting it into them with a small current of electricity. As the electricity flows through their bodies Hiccup's eyes open slightly his green eye seem brighter then normal closer to the color of Toothless' before his pupils slit looking like the eyes of a dragon, they dim and return to normal before he passes out. As soon as the process ends the dragons that did not follow them come rushing in having heard their alphas call, the tubes have released them so the dragons take all of the unconscious Vikings, but Hiccup who smells like one of them and Astrid who smelled like him back to New Berk.

How to train your dragons immortality Au/fix it except moves one to three happened exactly as they show. Then Hiccup and the others get super powers.

Twins- speed and are fireproof

Snotlout & Dagger- strength & regeneration Heather & Fishlegs- eidetic memory & telekinesis

Mala & Valka- Agility & they are as light as birds

Astrid- All

Hiccup & Toothless- all plus telepathic bond

They all stop aging, Gobber stopped aging as well because he decided to taste the strange goo that was on the others skin when they returned. Hiccup and Astrid returned to New Berk in a weeks time. They didn't notice they had stopped aging until years later.

[fountainpenguin]

"I'm trying to keep up as best I can! I wanna be there if you need a hand... I'm looking, looking- Looking for you!" (x)

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New Criminal Experience chapter today!

Chapter 5 - “Tracked”

❤️ Read on AO3

💙 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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Mumbo and Skizz split up to find the lost allay eggs, llama respawn blankets, and Impulse. Mumbo takes a good look around Evernight: city of ever-changing blocks.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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One teleport later…

Operation Llama Blanket and Allay Egg Recovery requires stealth, precision, and snap-second judgments on how many of the enderspawn hybrids can be trusted not to turn them in. In a whirlwind of shadow blots, Skizz poofs them in behind a row of composters tucked down an alley of colorful, mismatched blocks. Skizz is in a crouch; Mumbo drops to mirror him. Endermen and endermites shuffle around not far away. Every breath betrays him as a wanted man.

And any one of these chaps could heel-turn out me.

The paths out of the city glow faintly on his mental map, as they always do. Leaving sounds lovely, but not when Double-U and Buzz are missing their spawn blankets. It's not just about his girls, either. The allay eggs are his responsibility.

The last two allay eggs in the world.

So where are they? It's not about the money. It's never been about that, regardless of what his species and experience in smuggling and trading may lead you to believe. He took this job because Doc asked him to. Said he was researching; he'd give the newbies a start on Education and send them to the building when his work was done. Not unusual, and Mumbo trusts Doc more than most.

Does he know? It's the question coursing like a river through his hands, up his shaking arms, and down his back in tiny flash floods. But he can't ask - not here, not now - because Doc still lives so far away. He'll crash when he gets to Tintopia. He is going to reach Tintopia, with his llamas' spawn blankets in hand.

Okay. We can do this. Just breathe.

Mumbo shifts his eyes to Skizz, then remembers why you don't look at endermen directly and drops his gaze. "I'll have a nip around. Thanks for the drop-off. It means the world to me, mate."

The blue eyes peering back at him (carefully, off-center) don't look at all like the eyes of a man who meant to do the Allay Dragon harm. Perhaps it's foolish and maybe he's being played, but Mumbo can't help but believe it. "Without me or Impulse, you've got no escort. I'll see if I can follow from a distance, maybe along the rooftops, but if someone sees me-"

"I know. Skizz, I know what I'm getting into- It's not my first brush with the anarchy lifestyle. If someone attacks me, you don't have to get involved. There's difficult people after you." Neutral. Non-specific. Skizz shifts, tugging his jumper sleeve. Mumbo can read that stinging, shameful silence and almost wishes that he can't. He says, "I won't rat you out, but I'd rather not see you fight." BigB's got his arrows and clones. Vee's an evoker; she's got her vex. They're both spellcasters armed with magic. And Skizz is layered with unknown mods. Both sides of this fight could easily get hurt.

"I… Yeah, sorry. Yeah."

Mumbo reaches a hand through his robes. He grips the handle of his modded scythe - still sitting there in his soul slot, as it always is - and withdraws it in a crackle of blue sparks. Skizz's wings flare out behind his torso, flapping once. They scrape the composters and the back alley wall. Not much of a wall with several blocks plucked out of it, leaving holes, but that's not the point. Mumbo keeps his eye contact locked on the scythe. He doesn't give any sort of demo swipe, though that's quite tempting, actually. Skizz is halfway to flying off as it is. Can he fly with those angel wings?

"I'm all right," he tells Skizz. "I'm Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo; I can handle myself a bit."

"Ah- That's… Uh, you've got a modded weapon?"

"I transported a bit of slime and some otter spawn eggs to a vulture once." That's non-specific enough, yes. Skizz keeps his eyes away, but for the briefest moment, they flicker over. Mumbo can feel them graze his forehead.

"Are you kidding me right now, homie? Otter spawn eggs are real? I thought those were just a myth!"

"Well, you and most of Between, yes."

"So you've found the Invisible Hub?"

At that, Mumbo chuckles and tucks the scythe away again. Bad move, wandering with that on full display. "I said I traded him slime, mate. I never said I've found wherever slimes spawn." Scythe gone, he lays a hand against a composter lid, ready to swing himself to the other side of the little wall. "You find Impulse. He and Coldsnap can't still be going at it." And if they're lucky, Impulse is still alive. There wasn't a death message on the comm. He must be all right, unless Mumbo made a total spoon move and forgot to toggle the settings on. They pause in sync, fingers curling, hearts beating. IS Impulse okay?

Surely he must be. Skizz asks the same question, then, but not about Impulse. "Will you be okay?"

"I haven't got a choice." But he does have a plan.

Step 1: Get the spawn blankets. It might sound harsh, but those rank above the allay eggs as far as he's concerned. Until a new account syncs to an egg, they're effectively unfertilized; they might even get broken in a scuffle tonight and he won't feel any shame. There will be other jobs with other spawn eggs. But there won't be another Buzz and Double-U, sitting sweetly in their shed as he cleans between their toes.

I can do this. Gah, if only I wasn't down to my last invisibility potion. Since he had Impulse watching his back, he didn't stock up. Gets expensive in modern times with modern shortages, y'know? Takes up space.

And at the moment, that's as far as the plan goes. He'll leave the safety of the composter wall. Find the blankets- someone must have picked them up. Take them back somehow. Barter. He's got a few things on hand that might draw the eye. He'll surrender the scythe if he absolutely must. It's quite simple, really. 'Simple' is key if you don't want analysis to morph into paralysis and chain you to the ground. Mumbo crouches to go for the leap and swing.

"Mumbles? Do you have another skin to change into?" When Mumbo turns his head, blinking and wondering how filthy he must be for a question like that, Skizz gestures at his travel robes. "You, uh… might blend in better if you're not wearing bright blue and yellow. If someone took your llama blankets, they'll probably be watching for you."

"I might want them to, if it makes it easier to find and return them to me."

Skizz hesitates, the noise skating across his teeth. That betrays the answer even before his words: "Evernight's anarchy, man. And you know how endermen are about taking stuff just because it's there."

Mumbo shrugs. "I don't have a choice. They're my llamas, dude. And if I can save the allays too, all the better."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[megamindsupremacy]

Avatar: The Last Airbender Fic Recs (Part 1)

Where the stars do not take sides by witchofendor

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

-

The sundered sea by aloneintherain

It was a sight Hakoda never thought he would see: a firebender dressed willingly in fur, cradling an Earth Kingdom girl, the both of them laughing with an Air Nomad.

Their thoughtless joy. The easy way they touched each other. Three different benders, laughing in the Southern Water Tribe, as if they belonged there. How could any of it be real?

Or: several months after Kya’s death, Hakoda gets a glimpse of the future.

-

Do you hear the people sing? by generic_username

The Fire Nation has only rebelled once in its long history. They are a proud people, and a loyal one. They do not turn against their own for no reason. They protect their own.

Especially their Prince.

~~~ Basically this was a What if the Fire Nation said Fuck Ozai and rebelled AU. along with a sprinkling of world building built in. Enjoy!

-

Half in the shadows, half burned in flames by r_astra

“They say you tried to kill the Firelord,” Hakoda says. "Why?"

Zuko doesn’t know how to answer. Because I hate him. Because I love him. Because he wants to see the world burn. Because he knotted one hand in my hair and cupped flames against my face with the other.

Because my mother is dead.

Because my uncle is dead.

Instead, he shrugs tiredly and says: “Someone has to.” -

This is a gift (it comes with a price) by witchofendor

They had spent hours and hours drilling and preparing the servers upon the importance of everything being perfect for the new fire lord. This was fine. Jin was good at her job. She could handle one fire lord. Expect that wasn't the fire lord. That was FUCKING LEE!

-

Salvage by muffinlance

Mid-Season-One Zuko is held ransom by Chief Hakoda. Ozai's replies to the Water Tribe's demands are A+ Parenting. Hakoda is… deeply concerned, for this son that isn't his, and who might be safer among enemies than with his own father.

-

absence of heat, excess of destiny by they callmesuperboy

Sokka is born in the dead of winter with a red dragon curling down the left side of his back.

Zuko is born in the sweltering heat of summer with a sword down his spine.

—

He doesn’t want to talk about it when their gazes turn on him. They make assumptions— is it someone he left behind in the Fire Nation? He looks away when he agrees with them.

Toph brushes past him when they all part ways. She says, “I know you’re lying.

-

For hearth and home by haircrescendo

[There’s a child underneath Fire Lord Zuko’s desk.

He doesn’t realize this until he sits down and tiny hands wrap themselves around his ankles, and Fire Lord Zuko definitely does not shriek and backpedal away at the unexpected touch.

He definitely does do that but Gou, the single guard he’s agreed to let shadow him, is kind enough not to mention it.]

Or,

In which Fire Lord Zuko is a total mess and somehow people manage to love him for it anyway.

-

Burn cream for cats by bladehuntress

Spirit goes quiet, and people don't worry, but they should. Then Spirit stops being quiet, and that's when people start worrying, even though they don't need to anymore.

-

equivalent exchange by haircrescendo

[“Are you dead?” Are the first words that come out of Zuko’s mouth.

Lu Ten winces. He’s barely adjusted to the idea himself, but he still wasn’t expecting Zuko to reach that conclusion so fast. He can’t lie to him.

He nods.

“I am.”

“But you’re real.”

“Yeah. Real dead.”

He tries for a joke but Zuko bursts into tears instead.]

Or, Lu Ten makes a promise, Lu Ten dies. Lu Ten comes back