#assassin x prince prompts
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Greetings! I hope I come to you on a good day.
Could I get some prompts to do with the tope Assassin x Prince?
Assassin x Prince Prompts
-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.
"You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you?" the prince asked, his voice steady despite the dagger at his throat. The assassin’s hand faltered. "I was. But now I’m not so sure I want to."
"Why do you keep saving me?" the prince demanded, his tone sharp. The assassin smirked, leaning against the shadows. "Let’s just say I have a soft spot for bad decisions."
"I know you’re an assassin," the prince said, glaring. "And yet, here I am, still breathing." "Don’t tempt me," the assassin replied, but their hand lingered, brushing against his arm.
"You weren’t supposed to see me," the assassin hissed as the prince stepped closer. "And you weren’t supposed to let me live," the prince replied, his gaze unwavering. "We’re both breaking rules tonight."
"Do you know how easy it would be to end you right now?" the assassin murmured, their blade pressed lightly to the prince’s chest. "And yet you haven’t," the prince replied softly, his eyes searching theirs. "I think that terrifies you more than it does me."
"I could scream for the guards," the prince whispered as the assassin stepped closer. "You won’t," they replied, their voice low. "Because you want to know why I’m here as much as I want to tell you."
"You’re the last person I expected to see at the ball," the prince said, recognizing the assassin despite their fine clothes. "And you’re the only one who knows what I’m really here for," the assassin replied, offering their hand with a dangerous smile.
"You think I trust you?" the prince asked, watching the assassin bind his wounds with surprising care. "No," the assassin said simply, their hands steady. "But I don’t need you dead tonight, and that’s the best offer you’ll get."
"You’re risking everything by coming here," the prince said, his words sharp. "So are you," the assassin replied, their gaze lingering on him. "But isn’t that what makes this fun?"
"I don’t kill innocent people," the assassin said, their tone defensive. "And yet you’re here, with a blade meant for me," the prince replied softly. "Maybe we’re both more complicated than we seem."
"The contract on your head is worth a fortune," the assassin said, stepping closer. "Then why haven’t you taken it?" the prince replied, his voice trembling. "Because you’re worth more to me alive."
#writing prompts#creative writing#writeblr#dialogue prompt#story prompt#prompt list#ask box prompts#otp prompts#soft prompts#fantasy prompts#romance prompts#assassin x prince prompts#prince prompts
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Danny: No Mother I do not want to take over the League of Assassins. I have enough problems keeping the floating eyeballs from making me king of a Lazarus dimension, I do not need any of gramps living followers making my job even harder than it really is, the dead ones are enough of a headache.
Talia: But Danyal-
Danny: besides I’m already dead see *goes ghost* I cannot rule a living organization so ha
Talia: being dead is not an excuse in this family and you know it.
Danny: *goes human because being dead did not work* oh now we’re family. I thought I was just the spare for your perfect little heir
Talia: now habibi-
Danny: oh don’t you start with the pet names, you are only here because Damian was smart enough to see through grandfathers bullshit.
Talia: Damian is just getting training from his father nothing more
Danny: and yet here you are trying to convince me to take Damian’s place.
Talia: …
Danny: you know what’s the worst about all of this. Thanks to being dead I got to meet lots of the OG League members and I got to say Gramps has really lost the plot. The League of SHADOWS was supposed to help the world from the shadows and make things better but gramps took one too many dips in the Infinite Realms sewer water. Now he’s killing the people he should be supporting and letting the world rot around him.
Talia: …
Danny: so no Mother I will not be taking over an organization that long ago lost its purpose. Now are you going to introduce me to dad or not.
Not at All How He Imagined This Going
Should I start numbering these things? Another Dp x Dc demon twins prompt for the list.
It’s surprising that a legion of the League of Assassins are so close to Gotham. While being a few states might not be what most consider “close”, Batman is not most people.
It’s also peculiar that they’re so out of the way. After all, a small town like Amity Park has little strategical advantage aside from a lab owned by Dalv.Co.
Infiltrating, while not simple nor easy, is doable, and necessary for reconnaissance. And they come upon…. A tied down Damian sassing Talia? Or rather a Damian clone sassing Talia, because Robin is right next to Batman. Who the clone has just glanced directly at. Despite them barely being seen. Great.
This is not at all how Danny thought he would see his brother again. Or meet his father. Or spend his Thursday night. Welp, he’s already been digging his (third) grave plenty tonight, might as well up the ante.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dpxdc#damian and danny are twins#danny and damian are twins#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#dcxdp#demon twins au#sassy Danny#talia just wants a son who will take over the family business#Danny thinks Ra’s has really lost the plot#Danny already has ghostly LoA members doing everything he wants and doesn’t want. why would he want to deal with the living#Bruce and Damian were listening the whole time and Danny was the only one who noticed them#Danny can sense Bruce and Damian through his ghost senses#the al ghul’s don’t take being dead as an excuse#ghost prince danny#Danny is salty about how differently he and Damian where treated but Danny respects his older brother#liminal league of assassins#liminal batfamily
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Crystal Bird - Chapter 8
Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of war, assassination, animal hunting/cruelty, disease, death, somewhat proofread WC: 6.3k A/N: god I loved writing this chapter!! I’m so excited for the next one! Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST
Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.
Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7
CHAPTER 8 ───────────────────
The sound of horses trotting echoed through the Grand Forest, the terrain suddenly foreign yet familiar to Chris who had visited briefly on his first day in Elysium. Tell-tale signs of his carvings that he had marked the trees with, still vaguely visible against the wood, but this time, he felt out of place.
Surrounded by haughty noble lords who laughed among themselves, he spotted Prince Ian ahead, engrossed in conversation with his friends. The foreign princes remained silent on their horses, observing and waiting at the rear end of the group.
Glancing at Hyunjin, Chris noted the way the Sylvancrest Prince took in the foreign greenery, clearly amazed. It seemed he had reverted to his polite, naive demeanor, as if their tense game of chess had never occurred. Hyunjin caught Chris’ gaze, his lips curving into a smile that irritated the Nightshade Prince, prompting him to quickly look away.
Their guards, Han and Seungmin, lingered several yards back among the Elysium Knights accompanying their hunting party, their attention fixed on their respective princes.
Han felt uneasy, acutely aware that Minho was somewhere in the forest, perhaps in the midst of completing his own mission. Chris’ earlier remark about the possibility of an ambush, even if meant as a joke, lingered in his mind, an unsettling thought that something dangerous could unfold hadn’t left his mind.
The warrior guard would have taken a deep breath to rid him of his anxious thoughts. He would have convinced himself that nothing unusual would happen that afternoon. But a sudden stench of blood filled his nose. A distant, but lingering smell that made him stare straight ahead to his Prince’s form, aware that Prince Christopher had probably picked up on it as well.
The Nightshade Prince’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze suddenly scanning the lush greenery around them, instantly guarded as he caught a whiff.
The metallic stench of blood hung faintly in the air, a looming scent that only the Nightshade Warriors seemed to detect, it seemed. Hyunjin remained absorbed in the foliage, while Ian and his entourage appeared completely unbothered, laughing and chatting as if nothing was amiss.
“Are you ready princes?” One of the young lords exclaimed as the group gathered, their horses forming a circle.
They began discussing what was to come.
The rules were straightforward. The more kills, the more points. Bigger kills earned double points, and the winner would receive a thousand gold coins.
“Last year, Prince Ian got a moose!” Another young noble had exclaimed, impressed anew as he recalled the memory.
Chris and Hyunjin exchanged glances as they watched Ian try to downplay his achievement. Yet the grin on his face and the smug expression betrayed his pride.
“Knowing Prince Hyunjin’s nature from the brief time I’ve had to observe him, it’s safe to say he isn’t particularly skilled with a bow. Isn’t that right, Prince Hyunjin?” Ian almost snickered, turning to the Sylvancrest prince.
Hyunjin maintained his calm demeanor, his lips thinning into a smile.
“Maybe. I’m not very competitive so your observation might be accurate indeed.” Hyunjin replied, his words dripping with politeness.
The other young nobles erupted in “Ohhh’s,” clearly amused by his calm retort.
All this was pre-game banter. Jabs that were meant to rile everyone up, to make them unleash their rage through hunting.
Ian’s laughter gradually faded as he turned his attention to the Nightshade Prince. Chris, focused on identifying the source of the lingering stench of blood, didn’t have any particular interest in this small talk, let alone have anything to snicker about.
“I’m very intrigued to see what kind of game our ferocious warrior prince will bring us.” Ian taunted next, locking eyes with Prince Christopher.
Chris sat upright, his expression impassive, though he raised an eyebrow in response.
“I fought a bear once, back in Nightshade. Who knows what creatures I might encounter here on your Elysium soil?” He delivered the words with a laugh, but Ian’s gaze sharpened, sensing the subtle slight in Chris’ tone.
With a final muttering of, “We’ll see,” from Prince Ian, an Elysium guard, who was the referee for this god-awful hunting sport, approached them. The game had officially begun. Each participant slung a pouch of arrows across their back, gripping their bows tightly in hand.
At the sound of a horn, the noble and royal men dispersed, the atmosphere shifting from playful banter to a sudden seriousness. The competitiveness that had previously masked itself as a leisurely excursion, now surged to the forefront, each hunter focused on claiming victory in the hunt.
They were all prideful, a common personality trait amongst Elysium society it seemed.
Of course Chris couldn’t fall behind, glancing back at his personal guard, who sat stiffly in the distance, before nodding and urging his horse to pick up its pace.
As Prince Christopher disappeared into the greenery of tall trees, Han turned to Seungmin, who remained silent, his narrowed gaze fixed on the direction where his own prince had galloped off in.
“Aren’t you worried.” Han found himself asking, the earlier talk of ambushes and poison creeping into his thoughts, the lingering stench of blood still sharp in his nose.
Seungmin shot him a brief glance before returning his focus to the dense greenery of the forest.
“My prince is quite capable.” His words were curt, almost mumbled, but just loud enough for Han to catch, suddenly making him realize it was the first time he had heard Seungmin speak.
Han blinked, looking around at the Elysium knights, especially Ian’s head knight, who lingered at the edge of the forest marking the starting line. It was clear they took this game seriously. Even the guards were not allowed to intrude, as if there were no threats in these woods. But for Ian and his noble friends, who could barely handle a bow, it seemed safe. For the foreign princes, however, even the snap of a twig could pose a threat in this unfamiliar territory of the Grand Forest.
Deeper into the forest, there was a stillness, a quiet calm that enveloped the Warrior Prince, eyes wandering around at every rustle of bushes, of leaves underneath the gallop of horses.
“Why are you following me?” Chris muttered, turning to spare a glance at Prince Hyunjin trailing behind.
The Sylvancrest Prince broke into a smile, speeding up to ride alongside him.
“I’m not very good at hunting animals.” He confessed, looking around.
Chris couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his honest words, surprised that this man was the same one that played chess with him earlier that day. He had been slightly competitive back then, slightly something else. With a look in his eyes that was not present now. Instead looking at the Warrior Prince with a friendly, playful gaze.
“I don’t think anyone here is as good at hunting as they claim to be.” Chris replied, exhaling in slight frustration as he recalled lord what’s-his-face asking which hand to pull the arrow with.
This time the Sylvancrest Prince laughed lightly, his eyes still wide with wonder at the lush foliage of the Grand Forest.
“Then maybe I’ll have a chance to easily catch a moose myself.” He mused, still fascinated by a scenery he wouldn’t find back in Sylvancrest.
Chris didn’t respond, his attention focused on the trail ahead. He studied the path, still trying to pinpoint the source of the distant blood scent. His senses heightened, he remained alert, ready to fight if the situation demanded it.
“Prince Ian seemed to be quite skilled, though. At least skilled enough to graze the second princess with his arrow.” Hyunjin said casually, but it was enough to make Chris pull the reins of his horse to a halt.
“She seemed fine earlier. Did she have any complaints?—Is she in pain?” The Nightshade Prince’s words were laced with concern, his gaze betraying a hint of worry.
Hyunjin blinked, surprised by Chris’ reaction, before his brows relaxed.
“She didn’t mention any pain. I was just recalling her unusual behavior from last night.” He replied, referring to her stumbling in the dining hall corridors from the injured shoulder.
Except recalling last night, all Chris could think about was the chill of the night air as he snuck into her chambers. Her wide eyes filled with shock. Her lips trembling under his touch.
Suddenly anger bubbled up inside him all over again, darkening his expression.
Hyunjin noticed the change, his eyes widening in confusion anew.
“Did something I say make you uncomfortable?” His voice cut through Chris’ thoughts, causing the Nightshade Prince to tighten his grip on the reins as he glanced at him.
Then there was this Eastern Sea prince, this man who was becoming increasingly annoying. His riddle-like conversations and air-headed demeanor, which Chris suspected was feigned, his constant hovering around the second princess, all began to grate on his nerves.
“Focus on the game. I’m going to find my moose.” Chris muttered, a dark glint flashed in his eyes.
With a spirited “yip!” Chris spurred his horse into a swift gallop, leaving the Sylvancrest prince behind, who watched the Nightshade Prince’s figure disappear into the greenery, a mix of suspicion and curiosity lingering in his expression.
Yet, only a few minutes later, Chris began to falter, his horse slowing to a stop. He sniffed the air, his narrowed gaze scanning the surroundings as the scent of blood grew stronger. It seemed he was getting closer to whatever had been slain, the heavy stench hitting him with increasing intensity.
Finally, as he approached a suspicious heap, his eyes took in the sight of the dead animal underneath the tall weeds and grass.
The slain moose lie lifeless on the cold forest ground in a pool of its own blood. Multiple arrows were lodged in the body that Chris’ eyes flitted over, catching sight of the bright purple ribbons tied to their tails. The vibrant color stood out starkly against the greenery. Arrows that belonged to Prince Ian, marking his claim on the kill.
Except Ian hadn’t shot a single arrow, let alone killed anything.
He had been too busy gloating and boasting to his friends. How could he claim this kill when the hunt had just begun? Unless he had the skills of an archery master, or this moose had simply been waiting for him to arrive and take its life. Both scenarios were so ridiculous, Chris could laugh.
It was a clear conclusion to come to, a guess anyone could make in such a situation.
This moose was killed beforehand, to stage a grand win for the crown prince, who not only sucked at archery, but was perhaps one of the biggest losers Chris had met.
Maybe he should laugh out loud.
But of course, he didn’t laugh. The approaching sound of hoofbeats forced him to hide, moving out of sight.
It was Prince Ian, the star of this show. He had entered the stage, knowing exactly where he should stand, where he would find the animal he supposedly killed.
The Elysium Crown Prince dismounted, hands on his hips, staring down at the slain creature. He crouched to count his arrows, making a disgusted face as he did so, his chuckles echoing in the stillness of the forest before he stood. The sound made Chris’ expression harden, anger rising as he watched Ian gloat over the dead animal. Staring at Ian looking down at this dead animal.
He suddenly recalled how Ian looked down at everyone he deemed beneath him,
How he looked down on Y/N, his smug smile, villainous as he struck her with that arrow.
Chris watched, his gaze intent. That of a ferocious beast.
A predator locking onto his prey.
A Nightshade Warrior staring at his moose.
Prince Christopher’s hands had moved on their own, as if he had no control over them. One hand gripped the bow, while the other pulled an arrow taut. And with a single exhale he let go, the arrow instantly released into the air, slicing the silence of the forest before the sharp thud of its impact resonated through the trees.
Prince Ian froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the arrow that had pierced the tree in front of him, just inches from where he stood. Staring at the arrow that shook to a still, the phantom sensation of its swift passage by his ear, still lingered on him. As he exhaled, his breath trembled, fear etched on his face as he grasped just how narrowly he had escaped a deadly strike.
Then his eyes darted to the ribbon tied on the end. The bright red color that had been assigned to the Nightshade Prince was vibrant against the tree. The sound of hooves approached, pulling him from his thoughts. His legs trembled slightly from the near-death experience as he turned to face Prince Christopher, looking up to his figure mounted on his dark horse. Chris still held his bow, staring down with a unreadable intensity at the stunned Elysium Prince. A slight smirk tugged at his lips, but he quickly lowered his head to mask his amusement.
The Warrior Prince finally let out a loud “tsk”, looking back up.
“You are such a skilled archer indeed, Prince Ian. Striking that moose before I could even nock my arrow.” Chris’ lies flowed effortlessly through his lips as he gazed down at the shaken prince.
Except his made-up scenario only made Ian stiffen further, the color draining from his face. Before he could utter a response, before he could even accuse the foreign prince of anything, the group of the other lords approached, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief as they took in the scene they stumbled upon.
The fallen moose. The countless arrows that stuck out of it. The single arrow lodged in the tree just behind their crown prince.
Their eyes flickered around, settling on the Nightshade Prince who was still mounted on his horse, awaiting for answers. Answers that easily left Chris’ lips, upturned into a gentle smile now.
“Prince Ian’s aim is far superior to mine. How did he manage to hit this large fellow while my shot barely missed?” He glanced at the arrow embedded in the tree, an action mirrored by the young nobles.
Ian opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, he felt the weight of their stares, their cheers and praises echoing in his ears.
He remained silent. Acknowledging this made up scenario, perhaps even an act of an assassination that had been attempted. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak out against it.
His pride was too large. So, he thinned his lips into a smile, masking the turmoil within.
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Y/N stared at Anna, who had just returned from running errands in town. Areas which Y/N would have snuck out herself to find solace from the suffocating environment of the palace grounds, but couldn’t due to the personal knight that seemed to not leave her tail. Especially since her mother learned of the arrow incident, berating her knight for leaving her alone after the royal dinner the previous evening.
The older woman had entered her chambers with a fury unsurprising, yet she didn’t know if she should scold her daughter for being an idiotic fool for her bold actions the previous afternoon. Or if she should glance over her wound to ensure that she was alright.
Perhaps Lady Katherine’s motherly instincts had kicked in.
Or maybe it was the fear of losing her ticket to a golden life that kept her anger at bay.
Instead of reprimanding Y/N, she insisted her daughter stay confined to her chambers.
With Sienna summoned to the Queen’s court and no tasks to occupy the second princess, it was an easy arrangement. It was for her own apparent good, for her chance to recover. The mother had claimed, despite Y/N’s protests, that she felt fine, thanks to the Nightshade medicine tucked in the drawers of her dresser.
But alas, she was not allowed out unless summoned. Now, Y/N sat with a new concern as she observed her personal maid. Her mind had been clouded with Sienna’s sad gaze and the words exchanged during their earlier walk, but Anna’s entrance shifted her focus. The girl’s usual cheerful demeanor had darkened, replaced by a solemn expression, as if something weighed heavily on her mind. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in town, given that Anna had been bubbly right until she left.
“What bad news has come to you?” Y/N asked, her thoughts slipping out easily between them.
Anna, busy unwrapping various items she’d brought from town, blinked rapidly at her princess’s words before furrowing her brows. She glanced toward the grand bedroom doors, where Y/N’s personal knight stood watch.
“You know you can speak freely in the privacy of my chambers. Worry not.” Y/N reassured her, easily reading the maid’s doubt.
Anna sighed, shaking her head as she settled into the open chair.
“It’s the usual. The townspeople are quite upset with the royal family for not addressing the ongoing Fading Ill sickness spreading in the slums. They’re afraid it might reach them and have been trying to urge the King’s court to take action.” Her mood had visibly soured from the whispers and murmurs she’d heard from merchants and shopkeepers.
Y/N fell into her own deep thoughts, recalling the illness Anna had mentioned.
Fading Ill.
The Second Princess had first heard about it in Melgarde, when she had snuck out of the estate and into the town square. There, people had openly discussed the sickness that seemed to emerge from nowhere. They blamed the harsh winters, the slum dwellers. The poor, who couldn’t care for themselves, spread the disease. After returning to the capital, she had stumbled upon the kitchen maids gossiping about the sickness and the royal court’s apathy, too preoccupied with preparations for celebrations while their citizens suffered.
Y/N pondered whether there was a way for her to help. She had even tried to gather information about the Fading Ill, but nothing useful had surfaced. Eventually, her responsibilities caught up with her, and the whispers of the sickness began to dwindle down as well.
She had assumed her father had taken action, but now, hearing Anna’s recounting of the news, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. Burdened by the weight of this situation. Responsibilities that weren’t hers to address, to solve.
“My lady, it’s time for you to apply your medicine.” Anna said with a final sigh, as if resolving to let go of the troubling news from town.
Y/N nodded and as she began to undress, her eyes suddenly lit up. An idea making her stare with wide eyes of enthusiasm at Anna. The young girl who had already understood what that look meant, was quick to settle her back into her seat.
“Let us apply this salve first. Else you will dash out and forget about your own wounds.” She pointed, rushed fingers already undoing the ties of Y/N’s dress before the princess decided it could wait.
The Second Princess begrudgingly agreed, allowing for the young maid to tend to her.
Her eyes started in fascination, peering down to look at her healing wound as best as she could. It truly felt like magic. The wounded area was no longer tender, now dry, and the skin looked significantly improved from what she remembered that morning. The Nightshade were indeed masters of the healing arts.
The Nightshade Kingdom held the exact solution this ambitious second princess had been searching for.
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Ian had been seething. In anger, in embarrassment, that coursed through him. The smug expression of that Nightshade Prince flashed before his eyes, a reminder of his humiliation in the forest. After downing an entire bottle of liquor, the intense rage still simmered within him, refusing to ease. He had stumbled into the royal library, unsure how he had even arrived there, but it was silent and dark, allowing him to stew in his fury.
The hour was late, and Ian struggled to recall what had transpired after winning the hunting game. An achievement that should have filled him with elation and pride. Instead, all he could think about was Prince Christopher. His lies, the arrow that had grazed past him, and the mockery hidden in that smirk. The victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the humiliation he couldn’t shake off.
The library doors creaked open, a sliver of light spilling in from the brightly-lit corridors outside, before the darkness reclaimed the space as the doors closed.
“I knew I would find you holed up here.” The Queen’s voice pierced through Ian’s inner turmoil, her commanding tone shattering the stillness of the dimly lit library.
“No one besides that stupid bastard-girl frequents this place.” He muttered, taking another swig from his bottle of liquor.
The Queen Mother inhaled sharply, her eyes darting around the seemingly empty library. His words were true. This wing of the royal library was primarily visited by the second princess and the occasional curious guest. Yet it was here that her son sought refuge in the late hours every now and then, drawn to the lightly guarded doors that allowed him to drink himself into a mess.
“What is bothering you so that you’re drinking here like a fool?” The Queen’s words were curt, her narrowed eyes fixed on her son with a mix of annoyance and concern.
A bolt of thunder crashed outside, illuminating the library for a brief moment through the grand floor-to ceiling windows. The tumultuous weather seemed to mirror Ian’s emotions that had been bubbling within him all evening.
“That Nightshade Prince.” He spat, his words dripping with venom.
It was clear something had happened. The Queen Mother had heard that Prince Ian had won today’s hunt, but his current state made it evident that the victory meant little to him.
“He thinks he’s all high and mighty for being a warrior. And those stupid nobles look at him with admiration that they try to mask in my presence. I just know it.” The Crown Prince spat, taking another swig from his bottle.
The Queen only observed him, the sound of rain pattering against the windows echoed loudly in the tense atmosphere of the library.
It seemed that Prince Ian was feeling insecure, that much she could tell.
But Ian’s thoughts drifted back to this afternoon in the Grand Forest. While he had to stage a win, the Warrior Prince had effortlessly shot an arrow at him.
Missing him on purpose.
Something he couldn’t even voice out loud from embarrassment. It made him even angrier.
“They supposedly hold disdain for him and his kind, yet behind my back, I’m sure they compare us. What comparison is there to make with a barbarian?” Ian’s eyes shot up to meet his mother’s grim expression.
“Who dares to compare?” The Queen’s tone had hardened, yet there was no answer to the question he had asked.
Perhaps she thought her son was indeed less than the Nightshade Prince, true in many ways.
It wouldn’t be surprising.
The Warrior Prince was the perfect example of a future ruler. He spoke when it mattered, fit into any situation, and had sharp observational skills. His impressive defense mechanisms only highlighted what the Elysium Prince lacked.
Ian scoffed at her counter question, at her lack of an answer, dropping his gaze to the wood of the table he was slumped over. His expression darkened as he slowly glanced back up to meet the Queen Mother’s gaze.
“Mother, when do we get rid of him.”
The Queen inhaled deeply, glancing around the room once again, before settling her gaze on her hunched over son.
“Soon. You need not worry. Focus on your upcoming marriage.” Her reply was cold, cutting through the heavy atmosphere.
Another jolt of thunder and lightning ricocheted through the room.
In the shadows at the back of the seemingly empty library, behind the large bookcases, Princess Y/N stood frozen, hands pressed against her lips to muffle any sound. Her downcast eyes widened as she stared at the tiles that glimmered under the flashes of thunder. Her face drained of color, mind reeling as whatever she overheard sank in.
The Second Princess had always been an expert at slipping away, and had done just that earlier in the evening.
Anna had warned her it wasn’t a good idea, that she should listen to her mother this one time and settle in for the night to allow her shoulder to recover. But, of course, the steadfast princess had decided she wanted to do some research. Perhaps she could uncover details about the Fading Ill sickness in the Nightshade texts housed in the royal library. Though the collection was limited, Y/N knew exactly where to find them, recalling the few times she had pulled them from the shelves.
Anna had sighed but reluctantly agreed to help with the escapade. She too had been worried about the spreading disease, especially after what she had heard out in town. Except they wondered how she would sneak out.
But it turned out to be an easy task.
The young maid peered out into the hall and caught a glimpse of the young knight standing rigid at his post. Upon closer inspection, she realized he had fallen asleep.
It made sense.
Ever since he was assigned to guard the second princess, who had no real threats posed against her, he had stood alone all night, often dozing off while keeping watch over a forgotten princess. Every night he had stood guarding against nothing. And he had quickly became comfortable. He had even perfected the art of sleeping on duty, appearing to stand guard.
If Anna had caught him any other time, she would have berated him for daring to look away from the princess. But tonight, she could only roll her eyes, feeling slightly grateful that he felt safe enough to neglect his duties and fall asleep.
That was how Y/N found herself sneaking into the library, a single handheld candlestick in her grip, glancing back every once and then as she cut through the rose garden to arrive without being seen. The library was easy to access, the palace knights stationed in this wing, mostly lingered by the King’s study, briefly passing by the part of the library only Y/N frequented. It was why she enjoyed coming here, able to scour books for hours without disturbance.
Once behind the large bookcases at the back, she began raking through the titles on the shelves, pulling out a few that might be helpful, settling on the ground as she flipped pages.
The loud creak of the library doors jolted her from her studious trance. She quickly scurried to her feet, instinctively blowing out the candle that provided her light. Pressing her back against the bookshelf, she held her breath, grateful for the shadows that concealed her.
Prince Ian’s voice broke the silence, laced with curses, followed by the sounds of chairs and stools being knocked about before he settled atop a table. The hidden princess strained to catch his mutterings, but couldn’t quite grasp them, only hearing more curses and the sloshing of liquor in a bottle.
She expected to remain hidden for as long as Ian lamented whatever had driven him to drink, to come in here. She planned to sneak out once he finished his cursing, either leaving swiftly after him or after he drank himself to sleep.
But she didn’t expect to overhear such vile plans. The words made her heart hammer against her chest, her throat going dry.
The thunder continued to roar in the night sky, its echo jolting the hidden princess out of her trance.
Now there she stood, concealed, processing everything she had overheard in that brief moment between Prince Ian and the Queen Mother. The implied words that made her heart race and her breath quicken.
There were some more murmurs and words exchanged between the Queen and the Crown Prince, but Y/N was too preoccupied with her own worries. The fear of getting caught and the weight of their insinuations clouded her mind.
“You shall endure it, and entertain him for just a little longer.” The Queen’s final words came out with authority, words her son begrudgingly accepted.
Y/N stiffened as she heard more loud shuffling, her head shooting toward the edge of the bookcase to peek out of the shadows. She caught a glimpse of Prince Ian’s back as he followed the Queen Mother out, before the library doors closed with an echoing thud.
The silence that followed was eerie. Y/N found that she had been holding her breath and finally exhaled, leaning against the large bookcase to steady herself. Her heart raced, her ears rang from the tension, and tears welled in her eyes.
What did he mean by “get rid of him?”
His tone, his words, replayed in her mind.
Her thoughts darted back and forth, trying to decipher Ian’s vague words.
Surely he meant to send the Warrior Prince back, to rid Elysium of his presence and urge him to return to Nightshade.
Princess Y/N’s heart tried to comfort her. But her mind, the sharper part of her, the part that was always thinking, always curious, understood the implications of that conversation between the two royals.
Get rid of him.
Breach the peace agreement. Perhaps start a war.
Assassinate the Nightshade Crown Prince.
Kill her Chan.
Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth again as the realization hit her, her heart pounding in the heavy silence. She held back a sob, gripping her dress for support as she leaned against the bookcase. Her eyes darted toward the large doors that had just closed, emerging slowly from the darkness. She was trying to figure out what to do with the shocking information she had uncovered.
She had come to the library seeking a solution to a different problem, but now her mind reeled with the new mess she found herself in. The justice-driven princess couldn’t allow the Elysium royals to assassinate Prince Christopher simply because Ian felt inferior.
Teary-eyed, she glanced around the now eerie library before her gaze settled outside, watching the rain pour against the glass. Each flash of lightning illuminated the darkened room.
Y/N inhaled deeply, bracing herself. She had made her decision.
She couldn’t let them kill the man she loved.
But she didn’t know what to do. Her mind raced, her heart pounded. Anxiety gripped her as she hurried out of the library, glancing over her shoulder in the now-darkened corridors.
The Second Princess inhaled, backtracking to hide behind a column, catching sight of a flickering fire ahead. It was a patrol guard, making his rounds of this area before he headed back to the second floor where the King’s study was. Sure there was no reason for her to hide, she was a Princess and he was a guard on duty. Yet what frightened her the most was the whispers of her presence here tonight reaching the Queen’s ears. Putting her in the library, the place where the royals had discussed about the Nightshade Prince openly.
Princess Y/N had never stayed out this late. She had never let herself become so engrossed in her books that she lost track of time. Especially on a night like this, with rain pattering loudly against the windows.
She gulped, waiting for the guard’s footsteps to fade into silence. When the corridor was quiet again, illuminated only by a few flickering wall sconces, she moved cautiously forward.
Perhaps she should have listened to Anna, or even her mother, as the young maid had urged her to do. It was a part of her nature that often led her into trouble. Yet as she stepped into the outdoor corridors, the heavy rain drumming in her ears, she convinced herself eavesdropping had been worth it.
The shortcut through the garden was treacherous, especially on dreary nights like tonight. The rain-soaked mud squelched beneath her feet as she navigated through the dark foliage. The shadows seemed to envelop her, the storm masking the sounds of her hasty movements.
The Second Princess thought she was safe, hidden from the patrol guards off the main path. But then, a sudden presence loomed behind her. A masked man pressed against her, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her scream, the other gripping her waist, pulling her close.
Y/N’s wide, fearful eyes locked onto his. Even in the darkness, in this unforgiving downpour, she recognized that piercing gaze.
Chan’s gaze bore into hers.
Eyes darting over her before narrowing, as he took a quick glance in the direction she emerged from, to ensure no one was on her trail. He pulled down the fabric that masked the lower half of his face.
“Princess…��� His voice carried a hint of frustration, mixed with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
Realizing he still had her pressed against him, his hand resting on her back, he instinctively recoiled. Yet his eyes that held those unknown emotions stared down at her with a new intensity.
Y/N took in the sight of him, standing in the rain amidst the maze of tall bushes and shrubbery. Her eye raked over his all-black attire, the mask concealing his identity, soaked from head to toe. Suggesting he was out in the night with questionable intentions.
An enemy princess would have summoned the palace knights.
A capable princess would have accused him of treachery, questioning the Foreign Prince’s suspicious presence here, his motives.
A competent princess wouldn’t have been sneaking around in the first place.
Instead, Y/N’s face contorted, and she finally let out her cries that she tried her best to push back as she looked at him.
Looked at her childhood friend, the man she was enamored with.
The man whose life was in danger, a target of vile plans.
Chris’ eyes widened at her expression, at the tears streaming down her cheeks amidst her sobs. He watched as she pressed her hands over her eyes, shielding them from the rain. Confusion flickered in him for a moment, reaching out but instantly faltering. Her shivering form, her cries were enough to urge him to reach out, gripping her arms tightly.
“Are you hurt? Did someone do something? Princess Y/N, tell me what happened!” He sounded frantic, eyes raking over her to ensure she wasn’t hurt, raking over her shoulder to check if the injury there left her in pain.
The Second Princess grasped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer into a hug that left the Warrior Prince stunned. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and amidst the sound of rain pouring all around them, he was certain she could hear it too.
But it wasn’t just her hug that made his heart clench, it was the sight of her crying in his arms that filled him with a sudden sense of helplessness.
Chris pulled back slightly, enough to gaze down at her tear-streaked face, drenched by both rain and sorrow. His hands cupped her jaw, his touch gentle and tender. Like the soft touches from the night before, when he had brushed his fingers against her wounded flesh.
The Warrior Prince didn’t question his actions, gazing down at Y/N with the gentlest expression he had ever worn. A twinge of desperation stirred within him as he tried to figure out what had driven her to run through the rain in this dark, like a wild thing, now crying in his arms.
Y/N locked her eyes onto his, letting them drift over his features. His furrowed brows, his parted lips. Slowly, her expression softened as she took in his warmth. She calmed, breaking free from the anxious thoughts that had plagued her, all thanks to his presence and the comfort of his touch. His grip was both gentle and firm, her eyes raking over at the raindrops clinging to the ends of his hair, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“You must leave Prince Christopher.” Her whispered words were enough to break his worrisome silence, eyebrows relaxing as he took in the sight of her hardened expression staring up at him.
Here stood the Second Princess of Elysium, the steadfast and stubborn princess who always managed to irk him. The vulnerable girl he had glimpsed was gone.
And here she was telling him to leave, yet her hands gripped tightly at his shirt. Clinging to him, pulling him closer.
Prince Christopher felt something snap. Something not in the world around them, but rather something within himself, had finally come undone.
His fingers, still cradling her jaw, drew her face nearer, diving in to meet her in the middle. His lips finally pressing against hers.
It was a kiss that felt achingly real.
A kiss that Y/N found herself falling into with ease, her hands tugging at him with a hint of desperation, yearning to kiss him deeper, to pull him closer, flush against her.
Chris felt himself drowning in her as well. Her arms, her lips, the kiss that left him breathless. The Warrior Prince pulled back just enough to glance over her closed eyes, gaze scouring over her serene expression. Her lips let out a shaky breath and the enemy prince found himself leaning in for a second kiss.
The thunder roared loudly in the dark sky. Yet, even such a loud sound was not enough to bring them back to reality.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.
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Lucanis Dellamorte x Reader: Late Nights & Delayed Confessions, pt.3
Summary: There is only one bed. Part 3 of 5. Word count: 980 Notes: (Unresolved) romantic tension, pining, you’re an Antivan Crow, no spoilers for Veilguard → Part 2 → My writing masterlist
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Lucanis prompted instantly as you stepped inside your room.
“Don’t be silly,” you replied.
“Then where do you suggest I rest? In the closet?” He spread his arms and pointedly looked around.
“Hm, it might be a tight fit, but…”
Lucanis scoffed.
This familiar back and forth brought back remnants of times that were somehow simpler, somehow more filled with hopes and dreams. You had long since abandoned those three notions in everything related to Lucanis Dellamorte.
“There’s enough room for us both,” you continued as nonchalantly as possible. Meanwhile the thought of sharing a bed with him made your pulse quicken.
You both looked at the said bed. It looked even smaller now.
Lucanis inhaled deeply and searched your face for a moment. He probably didn’t find what he was so intent on seeing since he sighed again, clearly vexed, and crossed over the floor to sit on the bed. Without any further ado, he started taking off his cloak, jacket and boots, and lovingly placed three throwing knives, a dagger and a short sword on the bedside table.
You just stood there. Staring. Probably your mouth hanging open with a high probability of a line of drool. So ladylike.
Sure, you had seen him taking off his… stuff and not just in your daydreams. You had seen men undressing, and been an active participant in the activity and what usually ensued after, but witnessing Lucanis go through the motions made your heart lodge in your throat. It felt somehow very wrong and very right.
Suddenly it also felt like decades had passed since the last time you had been alone with him. Memories of flowing wine and a secluded balcony in Treviso surfaced. It had been a hell of a contract and the execution had been flawless. Some visuals of the celebrations afterwards were still hazy and you hadn’t dared to ask Lucanis to clear up the fog.
There was… heat. And heartache. A wine-induced drunken haze? Or maybe something more.
You shook your head to dissipate the tingling sensation. You hadn’t asked Lucanis about that night before and you wouldn’t start that conversation now.
You started taking off your earrings, gaze bouncing between the master assassin and your own motions in the mirror.
“Are you sure the man wasn’t just trying to rob you because you’re walking around in those?” Lucanis met your eyes through the mirror and nodded to the small pile of jewellery on the side table.
“Mm. Maybe,” you ventured softly, “But they were a gift from Illario on last Satinalia, so I wanted to wear them.”
Lucanis looked away, but didn’t comment. That frustrating, perfectly blank slate on his handsome face would be a frightening opponent in Wicked Grace.
You didn’t exactly hurry in preparing – mostly mentally – to bed, and yet the moment still arrived altogether too soon. Lucanis was waiting for you, stalling. You could see he didn’t approve of the idea, but had likely arrived through a very precise, logical line of thought to the conclusion that this couldn’t be helped. For one night, you could sleep standing on your head if need be. Lucanis was probably thinking along the same lines. You needed to be up early and well rested for the journey back to Treviso in the morning. Viago would actually murder you if the Merchant Prince contract wouldn’t be handled by the end of the week.
“I’ll take the door’s side,” you said and embarrassment burned hot because of how squeaky your voice was.
“Right.”
You avoided looking at Lucanis and shuffled to your side of the bed. It was so small. This was a terrible idea.
The mattress dipped behind your back as Lucanis laid down. There was only one blanket and you cursed yourself for not having the foresight to snatch an extra one from Illario’s room.
You lifted the blanket and tossed the other half of it behind you so that Lucanis could have what little comfort it offered. Both of you were mostly dressed, but it seemed disrespectful to hoard it all to yourself.
Lucanis didn’t say anything as he settled the blanket over his side, but you were already feeling the warming effect of sharing. You scooted just an inch backward to narrow the gap between your bodies.
“You’re going to fall off the bed. Come closer,” Lucanis said quietly.
Those two last words rushed the air from your lungs, attached your heart into your throat to prevent inhaling more and threw a match into the barrel of gaatlok inside your chest. Heat rushed through your whole body to chase the escaped air and for a second, breathing ever again seemed impossible.
Lucanis turned slightly to look over his shoulder. You were petrified.
“Fiore?”
Could he not.
“I-I’m fine,” you managed.
He turned back and silence fell.
You really needed to calm down. Treat it as just a job. It was not the first time you were sleeping next to another warm body. You both were reasonable and functional adults. This was a matter of convenience. If Lucanis realised you were doing calming breathing exercises, he didn’t address it.
He shifted a little, tugged at the blanket and let it loosen again. You focused on breathing.
Lucanis scooted backward just like you had done and all of a sudden your back was pressed against his. A backwash of the heat flooded back into you. Forcing your body to relax was suddenly effortless. Like this warmth had been what you were just waiting for in order to settle in for the night. Your breaths were steady. Lucanis’ back was moving subtly in tandem with his breathing.
Now, if only you could have fallen into dreamless sleep.
He had called you ‘Fiore’.
Who had you been kidding, there was absolutely no way you could fall asleep next to Lucanis Dellamorte.
-
→ Part 4
#lucanis dellamorte#lucanis x reader#lucanis dellamorte x reader#dragon age veilguard fanfiction#dragon age veilguard#da veilguard#da veilguard fanfiction#fanfiction#my writings
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requests
cute fluff civilian meets villain at a ball flirty villain x flustered hero confident hero flirts with flustered scientist villain hero and villain waltz at a ball confident/oblivious scientist x flustered villain flustered hero finds villain in their house spicy talk with dom hero x villain super sunny hero x dark villain seductive villain x flustered hero villain accidentally drinks a love potion
dark/toxic romance vampire villain seduces hunter hero possessive villain x defiant hero - 1k follower special! villain manipulates hero villain threatens hero against a wall - part two
angst/whump hero gets tortured by their team villain council forbids villain to meet with their lover injured villain has to take care of themselves hero visits comatose villain villain taunts kidnapped hero - part two villain finds abused hero sidekick hero and villain are siblings hero finds abused villain sidekick villain kidnaps abused child - part two villain infiltrates hero's mind - part two stoic hero gets tortured by villain hero is gifted to villain as a peace offering - part two hero has to fight teenage villain hero puts a fist in their mouth - part two assassin hero interrogated by villain - part two hero deals with aftermath of torture teen villain finds out teen hero is abused scared hero can't handle being kidnapped - part two villain breakdown prompts
other hero/villain dynamics dignified supervillain kidnaps sarcastic civilian dark villain kidnaps hero's friend hero meets villain for the first time fire hero fights shadow villain dom hero x dom villain villain finds out hero is a teenager assassin meets prince child headstrong hero confronts dark villain civilian's older sibling is hero hero + sidekick saves villain from supervillain civilian calls villain their hero empathetic hero gets tricked by villain jealous villain finds out hero is fighting supervillain scared hero kidnapped by intimidating villain villain bonds with hero's kid hero asks for villain's help
#YEAAHHH#this took forever#lmk if something is acting goofy#masterlist#hero#villain#hero and villain#villain and hero#hero/villain#villain/hero#villain x hero#hero x villain#enemies to lovers#whump writing#hurt/comfort#villain-enthusiast
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Defenses
Pairing: Captain Rex x Jedi AFAB!Reader
Words: 17,202 (apologies)
Warnings: Mutual Pining. Idiots in Love. Misunderstandings (that are addressed throughout). Overprotective Rex. Innocent touches turn Not-So-Innocent...Love Confessions. "Enthusiastic" Feelings. Dirty, Sweet Talk. Brief Oral (female receiving). Brief Hand Job. Pentrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up folks). Creampie. Cuddling.
Summary: Under the assumption that your friend's Captain cannot stand the sight of you, you steer clear of him throughout the Life Day Celebrations. But when the diplomatic visit takes an unexpected turn, you're forced to act as bait so Anakin and Rex capture the assassin chasing after the Prince of Dondri. An accidental encounter on the final night of the mission brings clarity to certain matters for you...and reveals some of your own secrets to Rex.
Prompts: The Christmas ornament is supposedly enchanted. // Scene inspired by the image of a boat decked out in Christmas lights. // After the blizzard hits, they’re stuck together for a while, and they have to stay warm.
A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying their holidays. This gift is for the lovely @loving-the-cambridges who's also taking part of the Life Day Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange . Your little prompts are fanfic heaven for me so I hope I incorporated them to your liking, albeit with the twists I made to them. And I am so so sorry for the slight delay friend!!! Happy Reading :D
P.S. It's overdue by a year but I'm also writing this for the @clonexreaderbingo challenge (which was about a year ago).
As the festivities continue, you look to the sky and find yourself meditating on the constellations twinkling high above the laughter and dancing. You wander along the edge of the celebrations, the sound of music and enthusiastic drinking fading into the background and pushing a smile onto your features. You watch as the 501st relax with the people of Dondri, and if you didn’t know better, you would think this was another normal rotation for them. But as all things, the joy goes as quickly as it comes when you look towards one particular member of the legion and find him standing near the Prince, his eyes scanning the crowd to ensure the safety of the royal family.
Maker, it truly was unfair how effortlessly attractive that man was. Whatever he was doing, even if he was merely lounging or standing quietly and doing nothing, he looked absolutely exquisite. And with every ounce of your being, you wished you were only physically attracted to him. But the opposite was true; the genuine dedication and care he upheld with everything that he did was what first caught your eye. Never have you met someone as tender and responsible as him. It would have been so much easier if you just found him objectively handsome, but like everything you’ve had to reevaluate recently, you knew whatever emotions stirring within you each time you are in his presence were based on more than his looks. It was such a dangerous thought process though, because for the first time since you were knighted, you genuinely debated ignoring the rules and confessing to him your feelings. He was everything you could ever want and so much more.
Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of you.
It was so unfortunate, but perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if the feelings were mutual, things would have been more complicated, more so for him than for you. So much would have been at stake, the most important being his position and well-being. But a part of you secretly hoped that he, at least, tolerated working with you. And you would have thought he did, if it weren’t for the fact that he tended to leave every time you were in the same room. Each suggestion you made, he would meet with some bit of hostility, not disrespect, but just irritation at the prospect of carrying out your commands. It was horrible.
Yet it made you want him all the more. He had a sense of honor that he upheld more than most, a trait that was rare during these times. A characteristic that made you avoid him at every chance you could so as to not make him uncomfortable. You were not his General, but you were a General, one that he would have no choice but respect publicly. It made no sense to limit his whereabouts, certainly not during a time like this.
Which is how you found yourself walking away each time he joined your company. If you were discussing an issue or two with Anakin and he joined, you would excuse yourself, telling both men that they could handle whatever the problem was without your help. If you were playing sabbac with Fives and Kix, and he sat beside them, you would feign a headache and leave, letting them know that you would get some rest. And if you were hanging around the royal family, learning about the Life Day Celebrations on their planet and saw him walking towards you, you would let them know that you were to make rounds for the night and exit the room, not once looking back as you left him behind. Granted, it made things especially difficult since you needed to discuss much with the Prince and his sister, and he was, somehow, always around you when you were with them, but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him further.
Whatever grudge he held against you did not need to grow simply because of your ego.
No. It was best you watched him from afar. It had to be.
You make your way towards one particularly large tree, hiding behind it in order to look at the man without anyone noticing. Always putting his job before anything else, Rex stands firmly in his place, arms crossed in front of him and lips pouting in attention. You allow your eyes to move down his form, and silently curse yourself when you realize where your mind may be racing towards.
“Stare any harder and he might magically appear in front of you.” You shut your eyes and drop your face forward to hide the heated flush making its way towards your cheeks. Of course he knew where you’d be standing, and who you’d be daydreaming about.
“Shouldn’t you be talking to the Prince about his involvement in the war?” You begrudgingly hiss at him, knowing that your reaction will be adding fuel to the fire.
“Shouldn’t you?” Anakin retorts instantly, making you wish you weren’t chosen for this mission.
“I would, except everyone on this planet is currently into their third cup of Corellian whiskey so I highly doubt anyone will be paying attention.” You finally turn around and face Anakin, already hating the smirk on his face when he notices how flustered you are.
“Funny, that’s exactly why I’m not talking to him either.” He steps in front of you and rests his weight on the tree, throwing back a cup of maker knows what before handing it to you.
“No, thank you.”
“You need it more than I do,” he shoves it one last time into your hands, nodding in victory when you take it and drink the rest of it down. You wince at the bitter taste but silently thank him for handing it to you. Neither of you say anything for a while, more entertained by the shenanigans of your men as they made absolute fools of themselves in front of the Dondrians.
“You should really talk to him.” The sentiment irritates you more than it should. You know he means well, but given the circumstances, and who you were, you found the suggestion a little insensitive.
“I’ll keep that in mind, good night.” You hand him back the cup, hand ensuring that your weapon is still on your hip before moving across the crowds. You don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, afraid they’d drag you into whatever game they were playing and force you to stay longer.
But as you strut past your friends, something slowly pushes against the back of your mind, nagging you until you halt in your steps and study the forest. You stare across the groups of celebrations, turning around just in time to see Anakin running through his men. You push through the drunk masses, and only when you’re a few steps away from the royal family do you hear the high-pitched sound of a blaster going off.
Without thinking much of the consequences, you sprint towards the upper table and violently shove Rex out of the way, shutting your eyes in pain when the blaster hits your side and barely misses the Prince and his sister. The joyful laughter quickly turns into panicked cries, and you look down at the two members of the family you were meant to be watching closely, praying to the maker that neither of them are injured or else this diplomatic journey would turn into a political nightmare.
“Are you hurt?” You ask them both, sighing in relief when they pat each other down and realize that neither of them were hit.
“Stay down,” you order the two of them, standing to your full height and igniting your lightsaber, but not before glancing to the side to make sure that Rex was unharmed. You feel your heart skip a beat when you find his eyes and see the anger swimming in them.
“Don’t leave their side,” you tell Rex before taking off, already regretting the argument you will surely have with him when everything calms down. As if you needed to give him more reasons to dislike you. You will yourself to focus on finding the assassin, stopping in front of a group of clones to see which of them can follow you.
“If you haven’t been drinking, follow me. The rest of you look after these people.” Five men stand to their feet at your command, already putting their helmets on to try and see where they should head. A part of you knows that you may have already lost this hunter in the crowd but you try to find him regardless, knowing that the celebrations may come to a halt and cause even more unrest with the Dondrians if you don’t at least try to find anything about him.
You run towards the cluster of trees high on the hills, certain that it was the best vantage point where you can see everything unfolding within the crowds. But with each step you take, you feel the wound on your side burn in anger, begging you to take a moment of respite before resuming any movement.
“You’ve been hit,” you don’t mean to snap at him, but Anakin’s remark sends you in a fit of irritation and you smack his hand away when he tries to move your robe to the side to get a better look at the bleeding gash.
“No shit, genius.” His eyes narrow at your tone, but you know he isn’t taking any offense to your little outburst. You’re about to head to higher ground when you feel a hand grab at your arm and pull you back.
“Enough, you and I both know we won’t find him. Not now at least. Come on.” He motions for his men to stand down, and they all look between you and him before they head down the hill first. As much as you hate to admit it, you know Anakin’s right, and you reluctantly sheath your lightsaber again before following him towards the calming throngs of people surrounding the royal family. As you bump into the soldiers, you do your best to refrain from reacting to the searing pain beating at your side, knowing that Anakin will make sure Kix doesn’t allow you to so much as breathe the wrong way. You couldn’t afford getting his attention, not when you could feel the eyes of a certain clone staring daggers into the back of your head as you paused and stood in front of him to speak with the Prince. You see him engage in a conversation with Anakin, worried at the prospect of anyone in his family getting hurt due to his recent change in political stance.
“While I can appreciate the importance of this issue, we need to get you inside.” You turn between him and your old friend, waiting quietly until they acknowledge your suggestion before moving behind them towards the gate of the city. Making sure that each member of the inner circle is accompanied by a couple of your men, you stay back to rest your side, turning your eyes to the sky in an attempt to focus on anything but the excruciating burning beating at your skin. You’re almost distracted too when you feel a hand rest on your back while another holds your upper arm.
“You need to go to medbay.” The calm, soothing voice of none other than the man you’ve been doing your best to avoid signals a wave of heat to course across your body, and before you can try and argue with him, you feel lightheaded, the adrenaline finally leaving your body completely with nothing but a faint memory of what had happened. You brace yourself on his shoulders, shaking your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him when you look up and see the angry grimace from before returning with a vengeance.
“If it’s all the same to you Captain, I think it’s best I just go and rest. No need for medbay.” You try to let go of his shoulders but as soon as you take a step back, your body sways and nearly falls over. His arms brace against him, and had you been a little more present, maybe a little more mischievous, you would have asked him to buy you dinner first. But you weren’t too conscious of what was happening, so you accept the help quietly, not bothering to say anything even when Kix comes around and supports your weight as well.
“With all due respect sir, Rex may not outrank you, but I do…when it comes to your wellbeing at least. Come on.” You miss the way he looks at Rex, and you definitely don’t notice Rex’s clenched jaw as he reluctantly lets go and makes sure you won’t fall over. And you unfortunately don’t see the look Rex gives you, guilty that you felt the need to push him out of harm’s way and take the hit instead.
The three of you walk in silence back to the city, and when you get to base, you glance back at Rex and frown when you see how angry he is with you. Had you been more aware however, you would have realized that he was not upset with you, but at this whole situation. As soon as you enter medbay, you lay down in one of the beds, hissing in pain when your lightsaber accidentally brushes the open gash on your side.
“Let me take this,” Rex moves to your side and attempts to grab your weapon, but you flinch at the sudden movement, eyes panicked at the prospect of not having your lightsaber with you, even though you were perfectly safe here.
“You don’t have to, I-”
“General, don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” He sighs heavily, the reaction hurting you more than it should. Of course he thought you were a burden. He was probably supposed to be with Anakin but felt the need to remain by your side out of duty. You don’t mean to, but your hand falls back in defeat, eyes watering almost instantly at being such an inconvenience to him. If he notices the way you react to his words, he says nothing and approaches you slowly once more, as if he was walking towards a wounded, helpless animal. He says nothing as he unclips the lightsaber from your side and clasps it on his own belt.
“Rex, I need you to leave.” Kix interrupts as he walks towards you, pointing at the door so Rex could leave.
“Why?” You think he’s being a little defensive, but you brush the thought aside, knowing for a fact that there is no reason why the Captain of the 501st would want to stay behind just for you.
“Because it’s my job to take her armor off and treat her, not yours. Get out!” Kix is more assertive than before, and you shut your eyes to avoid looking at either of them as they continue to talk about you. Something shifts in the air but you choose to ignore it as well, barely managing to open your eyes and gaze at Rex when he whispers in return.
“I’ll be outside.” He looks at you as if the last thing he wishes to do is leave this room, and you’re not sure what prompts you to, but you nod in acknowledgement to let him know that you’re thankful for him, watching him exit the room, but not without looking back at you one last time. As the door slides shut behind him, Kix silently removes your armor and clothes, not bothering to say anything else as he begins cleansing the wound and suturing it.
You’re not sure how long you’re on that bed, but when the medic lets you know that he’s almost done, you realize that you’ve been clenching your hands the entire time. Relaxing your muscles completely, you thank him and sit up, waiting until he covers your side with a bacta patch before standing fully again.
“You know, if I have to stand around one more minute and watch the two of you act like…like fucking bantha, I might just shoot myself and be done with it.” Kix says with a smirk, not caring for your passive aggressive remark as he applies the patch and pushes a little too hard on the skin to get you to be quiet.
“You’re a medic Kix, not a therapist.”
“Yeah well, someone’s going to have to tell you both to get your heads out of your asses…respectfully sir.” Once again, you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, not bothering to wait until he puts the armor back on before grabbing it and walking to the closest mirror to see what he’s done.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say in passing, irritated and confused by his choice in words.
“Sure you don’t.” You’re about to respond when he opens the door to the room and calls for Rex to come back. Surprisingly, it takes a few seconds for Rex to come and stand beside you again, studying your features as you look at the covered wound and try to see which movements hurt and which don’t.
“The wound isn’t too deep but it is pretty large. It should heal in the next few hours, assuming you switch the bacta patch and put on a new one. In the meantime, I’d suggest you don’t partake in any serious, physical activity…unless of course you’re with-”
“Alright, that’s enough.” You turn around quickly and snap at him, mentally patting yourself on the back when you see his smile drop instantly at the realization that he may have gone just a little too far. You quickly glance at Rex and find him confused at your outburst, but he says nothing and instead unclips the lightsaber from his belt and returns it to you. For a brief second, your fingers pass against his softly, and you feel chills run down your spine at how calloused and warm they felt against your own.
“Thank you,” you whisper your gratitude to Kix one last time before practically sprinting out of the room, feeling the frustration rise deep within your chest when you notice Rex falling into step with you. You had hoped that he wouldn’t follow you back, mostly because you were planning on visiting the Prince to ensure that he understands not to be seen by anyone until you’ve resolved this rather problematic hiccup.
“I’m sure there is something more worth your time Captain…you can leave if you wish.” You say assertively, praying to the Force that he reads between the lines and leaves you to your devices.
“If it’s all the same to you General, I think it’s best I make sure you return to your quarters safely.” You expected his response, but hearing it irks you more than you initially thought and you speed up in an attempt to distract yourself.
“While I appreciate your concern, I am of help to no one if I return to my rooms. Where’s Anakin?”
“He is with the Prince. Sir, I strongly request for you to return to your room.” Ever the Captain, he doesn’t budge once in his stance and catches up to you, going as far as taking a few more steps until he stops ahead and forces you to slow down.
“Captain, please.”
“You'll be helpful to no one if you can’t keep up.” He crosses his arms and stares straight into your eyes, not once caring for how you could easily write him up for insubordination.
“I need to see Anakin, I think I have a plan to catch this assassin.” You take a deep breath and relay your intentions to him, preparing yourself for an onslaught of questions and push back to the plan you have in mind.
“How do you know it’s an assassin and not a bounty hunter?” You notice the way his body language shifts from defensive to a more curious, even docile manner.
“No one in their right mind would come to Dondri during the Life Day Celebrations just to kidnap a member of the royal family. Also, I’m fairly certain he was aiming straight at his head.”
“And how do you plan on catching him?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, making you wish he wasn’t standing so close to you so you’re affected by every little detail you keep observing about him. Shaking the thought aside, you take advantage of his distracted mind, walking around him and continuing towards the royal palace.
“By giving him exactly who he wants.”
“Sir, please.” He calls out to you one last time, this time with an exasperated sigh that you wish was out of care and not duty.
“Captain, your request is noted.” You turn around one last time against your better judgement, watching closely as Rex’s pout deepens before he switches his attention to the ground. You study him then, wondering why he was suddenly so intent on your well being. It’s not as if he never showed any concern before, but there was something strange now, something you chalked up to what you did earlier.
You almost tell him to accompany you to Anakin, but then remember what he might say when he finds out what you have in mind to catch this man. Footsteps echo in the hallway as you practically run to Anakin, and you’re glad when you find him standing alone outside the Prince’s quarters. He looks up when he hears the frantic stomps growing closer, his expression falling as soon as he realizes it’s you approaching him.
“Wow, you should be resting. What are you doing here?” He’s half-concerned, half-surprised, the faint lines of a smile betraying how irritated he is at seeing you.
“I think I know how to catch this guy.” You straighten up, gazing at your friend until his apprehensiveness gives way to genuine interest.
“I’m listening.” Anakin pushes away from the wall, eyes narrowing at you as he turns fully to face you.
“I highly doubt he will want to try again in such a crowded place so he will definitely wait till the Prince is by himself.” You step closer to him, anchoring your thoughts to the best of your abilities as the pain in your side begins to return once more.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” He shakes his head strongly, frowning at whatever idea you had in store for him.
“Listen. We will give him what he wants, or at least, what he thinks he wants.” Anakin’s gaze shoots up then, and you watch the moment his confusion turns into a deep interest and desire to solve the issue.
“Elaborate.” His jaw is tight, and you brace yourself for whatever reaction he gives when you tell him about your idea.
“He knows how important his Celebration is, and he also knows that part of it involves the King-to-be going out into the lake and offering blessings to the gods on behalf of his subjects. So, we make him think the Prince is actually going out there.” Your voice is low but even, pausing in your explanation to gauge Anakin’s reaction.
“You’re suggesting a decoy?” His gaze is steady but you don’t budge, not wanting to give him any reason to think you are unready or reluctant to lead the mission.
“Yes, I am.” You nod confidently, glancing behind you and biting into your cheek when you see Rex walking toward the two of you.
“So the Prince will be safe in his quarters the whole time.”
“Yes,” you exhale through your nose, bracing yourself for the question you’re sure will be asked at any moment now.
“And who’s the lucky guy that will replace him?” He throws his hands up then, as if to say he doesn’t agree with the plan but has no choice.
“Me.” You don’t flinch as you respond immediately, shutting your eyes to calm yourself when you hear Rex’s outburst next to you.
“No.”
“Pardon me?” You turn to face him, not bothering to control your aggressive tone as you ask him to repeat himself. Rex can tell you don’t appreciate his response, passively shaking his head and glancing between you and Anakin to try and indirectly ask your friend for help.
“I…don’t think that’s wise.” He repeats again, and you miss the way Anakin hides his smile behind his hand.
“Don’t shoot me, but I think I agree with Rex on this one.” It’s Anakin’s turn to pitch in, his voice harder than before and making you wish you didn’t get easily rattled by such minimal details.
“Well, good thing I outrank the both of you.” You know better than to say something so superficial, and you shrug your shoulders when Anakin replies straight away with an annoyed lilt in his voice.
“You don’t outrank me!”
“Okay, yes but…you’re still healing. I’m all for taking risks-” You cut him off then, not appreciating the hypocrisy of his words and actions.
“But not when it’s someone else?” Standing your ground, you meet his gaze and search his face for any sign of hesitation, knowing that he has already agreed to your suggestion when he shifts his weight and pretends to still think about it.
“Why not me?” He asks quietly, the question meant less to argue and more to keep the peace.
“Because I’d rather we take this guy alive. Sorry Ani, but I don’t exactly guarantee the outcome with you.” You feel bad for critiquing his tactics but you don’t back down, wanting him to know that you prepared to see this to the end.
“Fair enough.”
“Good, you can tell the Prince our plan. Make him address the people in an hour, something along the lines of ‘he won’t be bullied out of his duty’ and then we can head down to the lake.” Stepping aside, you walk around both men while telling them what to do, wanting to deal with this hiccup as soon as possible so you can address the real reasons behind your visit to the planet.
“Where are you going?” Anakin asks, gesturing between himself and the room behind him.
“Get dressed. I need to look the part.”
Going back to your room, you do your best to think of the task at hand, but with every question you ask yourself, you find your thoughts shifting towards Rex. A part of you wishes he only objected because he doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but the more irrational side of your brain is convinced it’s only because he doesn’t trust your judgement. You’ve never given him any reason to doubt your abilities, so you aren’t sure why he still can’t accept your discernment.
As you step into the room, you strip down and walk towards your case, bringing out a new pair of robes and placing them on the bed. You make your way to the refresher and freshen up, doing your best to put the discomfort in your side out of your mind. When you hear the sound of the broadcasting, you forgo switching the bacta patch and get dressed quickly, afraid Anakin will move ahead without you. You return to the Prince’s quarters in record time, hood placed over your head to shield you from any prying eyes not meant to know it’s you. Stopping in front of Anakin, you make sure there are guards posted inside and outside the royal rooms, quickly letting him know that none of the servants know the plan to avoid anyone saying anything to the wrong person.
“You ready?” Anakin asks, leaning into your space to gauge your reaction while pretending to protect you as you walk towards the nearby lake.
“Let me get back to you on that.” You chuckle in response, pretending your attention isn’t on the annoyed Captain flanking your other side.
“Hey, it was your idea.” Anakin straightens up once more, eyes studying the slowly growing crowds seeing you to the lake
“It sure was.” Your answer is clipped, mostly because you can tell that Rex isn’t getting any calmer beside you.
“I hate this.” The three words are whispered, yet the way in which Rex says them makes you wish you could ask him here and now when he was so adamant on letting you know he doesn’t agree with your decision.
“You have something on your mind Captain?”
“Yes, loads as a matter of fact.” It’s the first time Rex answers in such an abrupt, curt manner. Before, he used to offer a silent apology if he spoke out of line, but seeing his anger sizzle deeper with each step you took towards the lake makes you all the more irritable.
“Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” You answer monotonously, not bothering to hide how vexed you feel from the constant bickering with him.
“Hey guys, as much as I appreciate your flirting, let’s focus here. You’ll be on the boat by yourself and we won’t be anywhere near until we see someone coming towards you. If things take a turn and you find yourself in a particularly awkward position, just push this button and we’ll come to you.” The two of you face Anakin, and while Rex looks away embarrassingly, you stare at your friend, silently telling him to watch himself and not test you.
“That won’t be necessary, I’m going with her on the boat.” The ease with which Rex replies grabs your attention right away, and it’s your turn to be at the receiving end of his sheepish expression. You wonder if he knows how uneasy he looks returning your gaze.
Or how unfairly handsome he is as he leaves no room for discussion.
���No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t blink once, meeting your adamance with a stubbornness you’ve never seen before.
“Captain, if he sees you coming on the boat, he will not come.” Anakin tries to alleviate the tension but neither of you back down, wanting the other to step away first.
“I’m not taking a chance with you. And…he won’t see me coming on the boat, not if I swim out to you and climb on.” The firmness with which he explains himself nearly makes you think there’s more to this offer than meets the eye, and you forgo proprietary to ask him what he means by not wanting to take a chance with you.
“Captain, you’re-”
“Why do you constantly make things difficult for me?” He cuts you off then, the swift question quiets you immediately and forces you to look ahead, away from the company surrounding you.
“I’ll take that as a yes then.” Anakin whispers and you hate how he always wants to get the final word in. You walk the rest of the way in absolute silence, your mind flickering with hope at the prospect of Rex feeling anything other than despise for you.
“We’re here.”
“Good luck.” Anakin snaps you out of your haze as he readies the boat, and you nod at him before stepping onto it. You undo the rope, and make your way to the front of the swaying sail, not bothering to turn around when you feel it moving softly through the water. You focus on the dark body of water ahead of you, looking up to the sky and marveling at the twinkling stars as they shine above you. Only when you hear faint scratching at the hull of the boat do you remember what you’re supposed to do. Waiting until the boat is angled ahead and away from the shore, you turn on the comm link and step forward to see where Rex is hanging on.
“Are we far enough from shore?” You ask Anakin, praying you receive an affirmative answer quickly so Rex can get out of the cold water.
“Yes,” Anakin gives you the go-ahead, and you pull the hood of your cloak higher before turning on the lights around the boat to offer a brief distraction.
“Permission to come on board, General?” Rex asks strenuously, and you wonder if this is his attempt at being civil.
“Granted, come up before you freeze to death.” He pulls himself up right away, and you point to the small room in the lower deck, not wanting him to be seen by anyone that may be watching you.
“Stay low.” You whisper to him, wishing you could take your cloak off and offer it to him so he can get warmer.
The slow rocking of the boat lulls you into a fake sense of peace, and you force yourself to remain passive to the presence of the man behind you. The lights flicker softly around you, and when you lean over to touch one of the ornaments hanging on the cords, a shooting pain coursing across your abdomen prevents you from moving so much as a muscle.
“How’s your side?” Rex notices you wincing and almost approaches you, but you shake your head to prevent him from coming up the deck.
“It’s fine.” You clench your fists tightly as you right yourself, not wanting to appear suspicious. It’s quiet for a few minutes before you decide to return whatever civility Rex was attempting to offer you.
“Hmm, it’s quite beautiful out here.” Your eyes are glued to the night sky, completely missing the way Rex longingly gazes at you when he agrees.
“Yes, it is.” A shiver runs down your spine at the low, whispered tone of his voice, and when you turn your attention towards him, you find him shaking from the cold air seeping through his armor.
“You’re cold.” There’s an apology at the tip of your tongue, and Rex must see how bad you feel about this because he shrugs his shoulders and tells you otherwise.
“I’ll manage.”
“You shouldn’t be here. I really don’t understand why you were adamant on coming with me.” It’s not what you want to say to Rex, far from it. But you know for a fact you can’t be straightforward and ask him why he didn’t back down and decided to join you.
“It is my job to protect you.” Again, you’re thrown off by how soft and docile he sounds, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not turn around and stare into his eyes as you ask him the next question.
“Job? Is that the only reason why you’re here?”
“Y-yes. Why else would I turn down shore leave?” Had he not hesitated, you would have believed him and dropped the subject. But something about the way he becomes defensive makes you think there may be another reason he isn’t too keen on sharing.
“What I don’t understand is why you would turn down shore leave to serve with someone you can’t stand the sight of. That’s what I don’t understand.” You know better than to bring attention to the bantha in the room, but you figure if you addressed the animosity, he might finally tell you why he isn’t your biggest fan. The last thing you expect, though, is the defensive retaliation he exudes in response.
“Can’t stand? Who…who are you talking about?”
“Come on Captain, feigning ignorance doesn’t suit you.” You huff in frustration, not wanting to elaborate further and make this any more awkward.
“With all due respect sir, you are not making any sense.” He chuckles then, and as beautiful as the sound is, it sets your teeth on edge. How dare he see this as a laughing matter?
“It’s obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you find it barely tolerable to be in the same vicinity as me. So I ask again, why did you miss out on a much deserved break to be here?” Against your better judgment, you turn around and face him, not caring for anything happening outside this moment.
“What gave you the impression that I can’t stand you?” Rex stands up and takes a step up towards you, the smile on his face falling instantly when he realizes that you weren’t joking. You were being dead serious. And you definitely believed everything you just said to him.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that anytime we’re in the same room, you find it difficult to stay for more than a few minutes before leaving. Or…or how you constantly meet each one of my tactical suggestions with an unfavorable reaction. Or the fact that you treat me like a child when I’ve clearly proven myself capable of handling any tough situation with ease. Any of these ring a bell?” You’re breathing heavily, unable to look away from him even though you wish you could be anywhere else but in front of the man that has simultaneously inspired so many mixed emotions ever since he came into your life.
“I- I’m…” He hesitates, and you almost feel bad for throwing so much at him at such an inopportune time. When his frown deepens and his eyes shift to the ground, you shake your head and return to observing the lights all around the boats. You envy the little balls of light, wishing you were one of them as they continued to flicker and not give a single care to anything happening around them.
“I am sorry…for ever making you feel all those things when they are the farthest from the truth.” His words cut through you like a long, thin needle, and you find yourself reluctantly turning around to face him once more, wanting to make sure you weren’t imagining what he just admitted.
“I hold you in the highest regard General, and if I ever push back on your commands, it’s never out of respect, but concern. Pure concern.” He swallows nervously, waiting until he has your undivided attention before continuing to confess his own doubts.
“If anything, I feel as if you’ve been actively avoiding me this entire week. With each turn, you somehow find an excuse to leave before I can join your company.” The revelation is enough to set your heart racing, and you have to shut your eyes to focus on calming yourself as you address his impression.
“I- well I just thought that I was bothering you and I figured it wouldn’t make sense if you felt limited simply because I’m around. I wanted to give you the freedom to do whatever you desired, without me standing in the way.” It’s your turn to clear the ruminating misunderstanding, and only when Rex responds shyly do you realize that you’re the source of months and months of misjudgment.
“I see.” Rex is defeated, and you wish you hadn’t brought this up while you’re in the middle of the mission because you want nothing more than to join him down in the lower deck and tell him how sorry you are for causing him to question himself.
“It seems you have every right to think me unfit to lead after all. All these assumptions lead to months of misunderstandings, all because of me.” You break the silence, trying your best to not let either of your revelations bring tears to your eyes. You fist your hands tightly to hold yourself back from doing something that might make him uncomfortable.
“Never, I’d never think that of you.” He meets your eyes instantly, shaking his head and waiting until you accept his peace offering before moving back down to the lower deck.
“I guess it’s best if we just…start fresh.” You say with a faint smile, feeling your chest collapse slowly when Rex returns the smile and nods in agreement.
“As you wish, sir.”
The night air shifts following those four simple words, and you blink a few times at Rex before returning to your place. You’re not sure how long you’re on that boat, but when the wind picks up, you hope things don’t take a turn for the worse before you catch the assassin who, up until a few minutes ago, you were convinced would have already come to you. Rex is awfully quiet and when you glance behind you, you see him holding a small ornament in his hand, the shape of which is unclear until he looks up and notices you staring at him. He shyly shows it to you, and you smile at him when you note what it is.
“Gorgeous bird, isn’t it?”
“What is it?” He gazes at the delicate ornament, its red surface shimmering with flecks of gold and crimson under the soft glow of the night sky and the lights dusted all around the boat.
“It’s a phoenix, a legendary bird that captivates whoever comes across it in the wild with its vibrant colors and remarkable life cycle.” You watch as Rex marvels at how something so small could evoke such warmth, wondering if he knows that he inspires similar feelings in you.
“It’s particularly special to the Dondrians because it’s believed to have originated on their world. Its symbolism of renewal and immortality makes it the perfect representation of what Life Day means to them.”
“What do you mean?” Gently, he turns it in his hands, unwilling to let go of it as he hangs it back where he found it, completely enchanted by its quiet beauty and whom it reminds him of.
“Well, it lives for several hundred years until it reaches a point where it builds a nest of aromatic wood and sets itself ablaze.” You can tell your words surprise him because he looks from you to the small ornament of the bird, face falling at the thought of a bird practically ending its own life.
“It…it kills itself?”
“Yes, and no. As the flames consume it, it is reborn from its own ashes, emerging more radiant and young than before. This cycle of death and rebirth represents the very idea of Life Day…of destruction coming from new life, of the importance of transformation, resilience, and hope. The way it embraces its own death and resurrection encourages others to embrace change and look forward to new beginnings.” The way in which he seems to hold on to every single word you say lights a little blaze of hope deep in your soul, and you pray to the maker that whatever change in your relationship lasts long after tonight comes to an end. Rex nods in understanding, trailing his fingers across the glass bird before switching his attention to similar ornaments hanging all around the two of you.
“They say any representation of the phoenix is supposedly enchanted.” You don’t want the conversation to end, and your smile widens when you see how suddenly interested Rex is in the bird’s mythology.
“Enchanted?”
“Hmm. If you hold that ornament in your hand and wish for anything…anything in this universe, it will fall right into your lap soon after and mark the beginning of a new chapter.” Not even a second later, Rex is taking the phoenix in his hand once more, shutting his eyes and murmuring something to himself. You watch with fascination how utterly captivated he is by the sentiment, and you wonder what he could possibly wish for so quickly. When his eyes flutter open and he finds you already staring at him, he puts the ornament down and stands up, his facial expression turning a lot more serious than a moment ago.
“Sir, I-” “Heads up, someone’s coming.” Anakin cuts him off and you curse the timing of your guest’s arrival. You shut the comm link off completely, mouthing a quick apology to Rex as he moves out of sight while preparing his blaster. You face away from the sound of the approaching boat and pretend to flinch as soon as you hear a loud crashing sound signal the arrival of your wanted man.
“You’re dumber than they told me, more conceited too.” The accent is not lost on you, and you file that little bit of information for later. The wind howls across the water, and you begin to move but hear a warning that prevents you from facing the assassin.
“Ah ahh, turn around slowly.” You hold your hands up as you obey the command, no longer bothering to hide yourself as you fully face him. His breath, a lot calmer than now, comes in short, panicked bursts. His expression falls completely, and you can tell you were the last person he was expecting to see from the fearful air about him.
“You? Where…where is the Prince?” The smirk you could hear before no longer tugs at his lips, his tone more taunting than now that he knew his mission is not possible.
“Like you said, it would have been extremely absurd if we allowed him to come out here by himself.” His eyes widen in horror, and you tilt your head slightly, hesitating to say more when his figure trembles at the mere sight of you.
“You’re a Jedi! You’re the one who saved him.”
“Don’t try anything, you’re surrounded and it won’t be easy to escape.” You reply coolly, gaze sharp and unwavering as recognition flashes across his face.
“This doesn’t have to end badly. Tell me who hired you.” You raise your hand slightly, a subtle warning that you hope he would take to heart and not test. His shoulders sag at the dangerous lilt in your voice, his breathing growing more erratic at the thought of being your captive.
“I- I can’t.” Sweat glistens on his brow as you meet his aggression with an eerie calmness.
“We can help you, please.” Your voice is softer now, still firm but not as menacing as before. Taking a step closer to him, you try to impose some sense of tranquility, but his jaws only tighten, his gaze farting around the empty lake in an attempt to find an answer to his predicament.
“No, you can’t. No one can…if I don’t kill the Prince, he’ll kill me.” His voice cracks, and you watch as his eyes glisten with something between terror and acceptance of what will surely happen now that he failed in his mission.
“Who?” Your question is followed by a panicked raising of the blaster to your head, and before you can give him another warning glance, you hear Rex ascend behind you, blaster aimed at the man’s head and fingers ready to pull the trigger.
“Don’t even think about it.” Rex’s tone adds fuel to the fire, the tension rippling along with the waves hitting the hull of the ship.
“Stand down Captain.” You turn your gaze to Rex, not wanting him to make matters worse.
“I can’t do that sir.” Rex’s voice is tight, and he doesn’t bother meeting your eyes, knowing that if he were to look at you, the man in front of him might take the distraction as an advantage.
“He’ll kill me, he’ll kill all of us.” The words tumble out in a frenzy, making you fist your hands tightly in discomfort. You ignore Rex for the time being, slowly stepping towards the assailant to try and calm him down once more.
“Just tell me who he is and I will make sure you’re safe.” Your voice cuts through the hysteria for a second, and you think you can manage to make him put the blaster down without controlling him, but then he whisks the blaster away from you and towards Rex, the reaction instantly making you see red.
“No, you’re all dead. We’re all dead.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. This conversation is between you and me, not him.” Your tone drops, no longer friendly or soothing, but searing with displeasure at the sudden change of events.
“I’m warning you, this doesn’t have to turn ugly.” You try one last time to make him put the blaster down, but sensing the shift in his demeanor, you light your lightsaber just as he shakes his head in madness and readies the blaster. There’s something strange about the way he continues to look up at the lightning shining across the sky, and you follow his line of sight to see if someone is approaching. His panicked movement increases as the crashing sound of thunder increases, and you narrow your eyes at him, unsure of why he was reacting so drastically to the weather. You find yourself lacking sympathy for him, not because of what he’s done, but because of what you see he’s about to do.
“It’s done, we’re- we’re all d-”
You don’t let him finish, sending your lightsaber straight into his chest before dragging it back to your hands. Neither you nor Rex say anything for a moment, and only when you feel the boat rock violently do you finally snap out of the momentary haze you’re in and tell Rex to hold onto something.
“Pfassk, we need to get back to shore before this storm drowns us.” You’re afraid to look at Rex, unsure of what you’d find swimming in his eyes, if he’s disappointed, shocked or simply disturbed by how easily you took the man’s life. You reach out to the lake bank, focusing on bringing the sail closer to dry land as quickly as possible out of fear of putting Rex’s life and your own in any more danger. It takes longer than you like, but as soon as you reach Anakin, you exit the boat and remove your cloak, quickly handing it over to Rex before asking the others to drag the dead body away.
“What happened?”
“He was manic…violent.” Rex answers Anakin’s question when you remain quiet, and as Anakin tries to learn anything from the soulless body, you stop pacing behind him and apply pressure to your side, the lack of adrenaline making way for a familiar, stabbing pain.
“This fucking weather happened. He- maker, he would have listened to me. He would have, but the lightning terrified him. It was almost as if he thought it was after him.”
“So you killed him?” Anakin holds his hands up in question, not understanding why you changed your mind when you were the one who told him why you had to be on that boat, and not him.
“No, I killed him because he aimed his blaster the wrong way.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable to you, and you watch as your old friend shrugs his shoulders before telling his men to take away the body.
“We need to leave, or else we’ll get caught in this storm.” You remind them one last time, waiting until they start moving before turning around and looking to gauge Rex’s reaction to this whole ordeal.
“Tell the Prince they can resume their festivities tonight if they wish. Assuming this doesn’t turn into a blizzard.” You tell Anakin, who nods in agreement and sprints ahead, not wanting to waste any more time outside now that the problem was “solved.”
“You don’t think there’ll be another?” Rex asks and you shake your head instantly, elaborating on why you think there isn’t another assassin running around.
“No, whoever is behind this wouldn’t take the chance. One wouldn’t talk, two is too high a probability.” You meet his eyes for longer than you deem appropriate, and when he looks away first, you study your surroundings before heading behind Anakin, towards the royal palace.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my room, I think diplomacy can wait till tomorrow. Good night Captain.” You don’t bother turning around as you respond to him, knowing that you won’t be able to hold back from apologizing for your actions if you see an unfavorable expression aimed at you.
An oddly familiar warmth engulfs you the farther you walk away from Rex, and it’s only when you’re back in your room that you realize what that sensation is. You’re confused as to how you could possibly be receptive to Rex’s feelings, but it occurs to you that you may be feeling a fraction of his own emotions simply because he’s allowing you to. Of course it may be unintentional on his side, but be that as it may, a part of him is so in tune with you that the Force decided to connect you to each other, or at least, make you respond to him on a much deeper level than you ever thought possible.
You stand in the middle of your quarters, recalling every single word you’ve exchanged with Rex during the past rotation. As upset as you are with how certain things turned out, you come to appreciate them all, especially the fact that the two of you were sent on this mission together. You were finding the Life Day Celebrations extremely difficult to enjoy because of your relationship with the Captain, but if anything was proven in the past few hours, it’s that the time of year was truly on your side.
You make your way to the refresher and find the bacta patch Kix gave you earlier, sighing irritatingly when you realize you forgot to change it. You strip off your clothes and stand in front of the mirror, biting into your cheek as you remove the bacta patch and throw it away. You find the wound almost healed, and you thank the maker you wouldn’t have to deal with it for a longer period. Letting it breathe for a few seconds, you walk around and turn on the hot water, wanting to bathe in a nice, warm bath before whatever you will have to do tomorrow. You move back to the mirror and unsheath the replacement patch, slowly applying it on your skin, and shivering when the cold chemicals make contact with the wound and the skin surrounding it.
Unbeknownst to you, Rex has debriefed with Anakin and was already heading your way, wanting to make sure that you made it back safely and weren’t in need of anything. He hesitates for a long moment before knocking softly on your door several times, and when he doesn’t hear a response, he unlocks the door and walks in, taking in the small space before calling out for you again. He frowns at the lack of response, knowing that you were in much need of a good night rest. The room is dim, illuminated only by the light filtering through the windows behind the bed. Thinking that you didn’t make it back yet, he’s about to exit when he hears your groans echo through the refresher.
“Sir?” Rex tries, and when your whines only grow louder, he takes out his blaster and readies himself for whatever threat is in the refresher with you. The muffled sounds only grow, and he’s alarmed at the prospect of what he might find when he barges in. Taking calculated steps across the room, he finds the door to the refresher slightly ajar, and as soon as the quiet moan of discomfort reverberates in his ears, he takes two quick strides and pushes the door open, scanning the room in an attempt to find the source of your pained grunts. When he sees you standing half-naked in the middle of the refresher, with your hands massaging the skin around the wound, he lowers his blaster and shuts his eyes, cursing at his lack of sensibility.
“Ahh kriffing hells. Oh maker, I- I’m sorry General. I thought that you were harmed and- pfassk.” Rex stammers through an apology, his face growing heated at catching you in such a vulnerable state. The tub beside you is half-full, and Rex feels his armor tightening around his crotch, images of you moaning in ecstasy as the water relieved all of your pain making him wish he was anywhere else but here.
“That’s okay Rex,” you cut him off when you see his face burning with embarrassment, and you do your best to not dwell on the heat from before suddenly wrapping around you like a tight, weighted blanket. It’s endearing how shy he is being with you, and you’re about to giggle at his overreaction when you turn around and find his eyes set on you. There’s a different expression on his handsome features now, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, unsure of why he was looking at you in such an intimate way.
“What?” You decide to ask, knowing that things couldn’t possibly get any more awkward than they already have.
“I’ve never heard you say my name before.” The comment throws you off guard, and you look around the foggy room, hoping to find a response written somewhere. You meet his gaze again, and notice his body language relax, as if the sound of his name on your lips was all he needed to hear to grow more comfortable with you.
“That can’t be true.” You know he’s not wrong, but you are also aware that you’ve called his name about a thousand times in the privacy of your room. You’ve called his name more often than you care to admit, but he had no way of knowing that, not when, up until a few hours ago, he genuinely thought you disliked him.
“Believe me, I would remember it if you did.” He chuckles at you, the sound far from humorous and fully self-deprecating. There’s nothing comforting you can say to him, and you rub your temples to alleviate the sudden throbbing ache circling around your head. When he doesn’t move, you walk across the room to shut off the running water, distracting yourself from the predicament you now found yourself in.
“Is there something you needed, Captain? I’m not exactly dressed for a debriefing but we’ll have to make do.” You stand up and motion around the room, wanting to get this over with so you can drown in self-pity when you’re left alone.
“No General, I only wanted to- well, I came here to see if…” He’s tripping over his words, and it would be endearing if it weren’t for the fact that he just indirectly admitted to you what he felt when you called his name.
“I know I’m not exactly being professional here but, since when do you get so tongue-tied around me?” You test the waters against your better judgement, wanting to see how far you can take this before one of you cracks. Rex shakes his head in defeat, and you realize that there’s no point in taking this any further, not when the man in front of you refused to cross the professional boundaries setting you apart. You couldn’t blame him.
“Okay, here’s the thing Rex. I am freezing cold, and from what I’ve heard, the water won’t stay heated for a long time, especially during this weather. So until you decide what you want to do here, I will be getting in.” You take your slippers off and take a few steps around the tub, completely missing the puddle that collected from the flowing water.
“CAReful!” Rex is behind you in the blink of an eye, arms caging you against his chest to prevent you from slipping and hurting yourself. You grab onto his arms to right yourself but the floor is too wet, and you find yourself awfully closer to him than a second ago. You meet his gaze and are suddenly mesmerized by the hazel green of his eyes, the ones you can barely see around his dilated pupils.
“Kriff, that would have been a really bad fall. Thank you.” Your attempt at a joke is met with a serious expression, and you drop the smile when Rex slowly steps away from the slippery floor to help you stand up. He lets go of you as soon as you stand up, and you find yourself a little hurt at how quickly he wants to step away from you.
“For a Jedi, your reflexes sure are slow.” The comment is far from insulting, meant to diffuse the tension rising due to the circumstances, but for some reason, your mind decides to make things worse and respond with a statement that is far from harmless.
“I guess we’re even now.” Rex’s expression falls as he continues staring at you, and he doesn’t dare say anything in return as he walks around you and makes his way out of the refresher. Something in the way he seems to be genuinely hurt by your comment makes you run after him and pull his arm to prevent him from leaving. He stops but doesn’t face you, and you suspect it may be because he is angry with how you make light of such a crucial moment.
“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t- don’t be mad at me. I know we barely resolved our misunderstanding but I- I just… just don’t leave.” Your voice cracks as you practically beg him to stay, and only when he takes a deep breath and relaxes his shoulders slightly do you finally let go of him.
“You think I’m angry with you?” He turns around slowly and frowns at you, questioning your apology in a way that makes you think you were completely in the wrong.
“Aren’t you?” You nervously play with your fingers, looking away from him when you can’t bear the scrutiny of his hurt impression any longer.
“No, maker no. I have never once, in my life, felt anything other than respect for you.” He reaches out for you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to make sure you are listening to every word he’s saying.
“Oh,” unfortunately for Rex, you misunderstand his confession and sag your shoulders in disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t feel anything more for you. Why would he? You���ve given him no reason to feel a fraction of what you’ve felt for him for so long.
“I am not angry with you, mesh’la. I am angry at the prospect of you thinking my life is more important than yours, at you forgoing your principles just to save me.” Rex sees the way you shift uncomfortably, the weight of his words settling heavily between you. His gaze is steady, and you can’t help but return it when you see the fierce protectiveness he’s exuding, one you had not expected to encounter in such an intimate setting.
“You- you jumped in harm’s way to save me, not even thinking of your own well-being. And later…on the boat, I saw the way you changed when he aimed his blaster at me.” He clarifies further, the revelation sending goosebumps down your arms and forcing you to step closer to him. You furrow your eyebrows at the implication behind his words, placing your hands on his chest without caring for any repercussions.
“Of course I did, what else would you expect me to do?”
“Not sacrifice yourself for someone like me.” His answer comes in heated, and the level of hurt you feel rising in your throat makes you push him away from you.
“What do you mean ‘someone like you’?” You snap at him, shaking your head in disbelief at what you’re hearing from him of all people.
“I’m not as important as you are. I’m replaceable.” Rex must not expect such a reaction because he steps towards you right away, grabbing both of your wrists to speak words that he doesn’t realize hurt you more than him.
“You- you think your life isn’t worth mine? Why…why would you even say that Rex? What makes you think you can even believe something so far from the truth?” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him, voice trembling with emotion at the thought of Rex believing something absolutely false. He hesitates for a moment, struggling to find the right words as you melt into his arms.
“Because I’m that one that should protect you. I should be the one making sure you’re safe.” He finally replies, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Again, it must not be the right thing to say because you only get more annoyed, fisting your hands and slightly pushing on his chest to keep his attention.
“I hate to break it to you but that’s a two-way road, Rex. If I had to, I would do it again.” You say matter of factly, wanting him to fully understand that you don’t see yourself as any more important than him.
“Why?” He lets go of your shoulders and slides his hands down your arms, enveloping your fists in the palms of his hands.
“Because I- I’m your…” His grip tightens around you as you struggle to tell him what you feel for him. You avoid his eyes but he tugs you into his chest and makes sure you’re looking at him before he interrupts you.
“What? You’re my General? You want me to believe you’re willing to die for me, or even change your own rules because you’re my superior?”
“N-no…it’s not just that.” You shake your head, knowing that you should tell him the truth regardless of how difficult it can be for you.
“Then tell me.” He begs softly, leaning into you until he touches his forehead with your own. The warmth of his skin sets you on fire, making you wish you could just confess to him and deal with the consequences later.
“Tell me why you’d risk your life for mine.” Rex’s eyes soften as he shuts them completely, and if you weren’t so held up on whether his feelings were mutual or not, you would have understood what he was trying to tell you through the intimate gesture.
“I can’t.”
“Tell me cyar’ika.”
“Rex, I-”
“Tell me me’suum’ika…please.” He cuts you off then, his pleading storming your heart with waves of emotions so overwhelming that you have no choice but to give him what he wants.
“Because if anything were to happen to you, my life will be over.” You admit, voice shaking with fear and relief at finally letting go of the secret you’ve held onto for months.
“Mesh’la,” the word is whispered with a warmth and gentleness that shake you to your core, and you finally open your eyes to look at him, finding nothing but adoration and tenderness staring right back at you.
“Rex.”
“I can’t protect you tonight.” His gaze is…it’s more intense than you’ve ever seen, but it’s unwavering as it descends to your lips and refuses to attend to anything else.
“Hmm?” You’re confused by his choice in words, caught even more off guard by the weight of them as you try to make sense of what he wants to tell you.
“I said…I can’t protect you tonight.” His voice is low, almost strained, sending you spiraling down into an abyss of an unquenchable fire.
“W-why?” Your throat tightens, brows furrowing at the way Rex struggles with what to say in response.
“Because every second I spend near you, not being able to touch you, or kiss you, or whisper how kriffing badly I have it for you is torture. It’s absolute torture. And now that I am here, with you looking so lovely, so- so…irresistible, telling me what I am to you, I can’t hold back any longer.” He exhales sharply, hands moving from your hands to your neck for a brief moment before you feel them wrap around you and pull you flush against his chest.
“Then don’t.” The air between you cackles with tension, and Rex’s breath hitches at the raw, pleading tone you grace him with.
“If you let me taste your lips, know that I will never let you go.” He’s gathering the strength to speak, and when his eyes burn with an intensity that steals your breath away, it occurs to you that he’s barely holding himself back from you.
“Rex?” He looks at you then, committing every curve of your face to memory as you call for him again, his heart stuttering at the raw vulnerability mirrored in your own pupils.
“Please kiss me.” His answer doesn’t come in words, but in the way he shuts his eyes as he closes the distance between the two of you. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that feels like a breaking storm—wild, unrelenting, and long overdue. You had expected him to be timid, gentle even, but the untamed way in which he instantly swallows your moans makes your knees weak, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling to the ground.
You’re not sure who is more desperate, you or Rex, but as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel as if your lungs will collapse from the sheer need and surrender moving between the two of you. And as his hand cups the side of your face, you tremble at the sensation of his thumb as it traces your jaw until he tilts your head to the side.
“Ohh g-gods,” you break the kiss for a fraction of a second, but Rex is unrelenting, claiming your mouth fully and moving his lips over yours until every inch of your skin comes alive with fire. You’re urgent in your touches as well, afraid that he will let go any moment and you realize this is all just a dream. But the more he consumes your skin, the quicker your heartbeat thunders against your chest and you press yourself closer to him in an attempt to ground yourself.
When he does finally let go, your breath comes in short, shaky gasps, but there’s no time to collect yourself. His lips descend down your neck, and you throw your head back, pleasure coursing through your veins so quickly that you have to muffle your mouth to hold back from screaming his name. The small gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Rex and he pulls back far enough to catch your attention, waiting until you’re blinking confusingly at him before he returns to your neck.
“No, you don’t hide your noises from me. You have no idea how many nights I spent imagining you in my arms…moaning for me, begging me to touch you and pull every ounce of pleasure from your body.” He leaves a searing trail of fire with each wet kiss, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and biting down harshly when you moan in return.
“But what if Anakin-” He growls at the mention of his friend’s name, his chest tightening at the sound of another man’s name on your lips. His hand trails down your neck to your waist, squeezing you tightly as he slides his tongue down your sternum and coaxes more sounds from you the lower he goes. Rex looks up briefly, smirking with pride when he sees how disoriented you’ve become from such simple touches.
“I don’t care, let him hear. Let them all hear, I want everyone on this planet to know who’s making you feel good. Do you understand me…General?” His confession burns through you, and he zeroes in on the pulse thundering against your neck, biting down harshly as his heart tingles with each moan you sing to him. The way he says your title, so possessive and crazes, sends a fresh wave of desire through you, and you have to fight not to crumble entirely beneath his touches.
“F-fuck, yes…yes Captain. I- whatever you want.” You gasp, voice breaking as you feel yourself sinking against him. You grip at his shoulders for some semblance of stability, the cool edge of his armor digging into your arms and reminding you how naked you are.
“Come here,” his tone is commanding, full of raw desire, and you shiver at the power behind it, swearing beneath your breath when he leans down and slides his hands firmly around your lower back.
“But the water-” You giggle at how quickly he moves from the refresher to the bedroom, and you feel yourself growing wet at how easily he picks you up.
“You don’t need the water to keep you warm.” Rex shakes his head, leaning down and giving you a quick peck on the lips before settling you down on your sheets.
“No?” You tease, lower lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back from snickering at what he’s making you feel.
“No baby, that’s what I’m here for.” he murmurs, leaning in close until he cages you between his arms. The bed dips beneath him, and you feel your heart racing at finally having your dreams come true. His eyes barely have any color left in them, and you squeeze your thighs together, excited at being the reason behind such a visceral reaction.
“And exactly how will you w-warm me up?” You trail your hand down up his neck, tracing his cheeks softly and shivering when you feel the rough stubble of his jaw kiss your palms.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rex chuckles, the sound vibrating through the quiet air of the room and making you even more nervous. He draws deliberate circles against your breasts, watching with bated breath as your eyes shut instantly.
“Yes…oh kriff, please Rex. Tell me…tell me.” The need you display to him nearly makes him choke. Never in his life did he think he’d have such an effect on you, but he doesn’t question it, instead giving you more so he can hear what he does to you.
“Let’s see,” Rex leans closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks with a sinful whisper, “I’ll start off by kissing down your body.”
“Hmm,” the image alone leaves you breathless, and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, not caring for how loud you’re getting as your moans turn into long sighs.
“And while you moan at feeling my hands trace your soft skin, I’ll…pull away.” His words trail off, and he suddenly pulls back completely, creating a rift between you that has you sitting up quickly and grabbing his kama to prevent him from getting off the bed.
“N-no don’t,” you plead desperately, refusing to let go of him as he returns to your side and kisses your forehead.
“Shhh, don’t worry mesh’la. I’m not going anywhere.” He catches your wrists, pressing them against his chest to still you before slowly standing up again. He doesn’t break your gaze, and he waits until you relax to begin taking off his armor. You swallow the lump in your throat when you finally register what he just called you, and your breathe trembles as you nod in agreement,
“But for me to show you how much I crave you, I need to remove all of this.” The promise in his voice makes you wish he could put you out of your misery and take you then and there. But you know better than to distract him.
“Rex,” you whine his name like a prayer, unable to hide how much you want him.
“I know sweetheart, I know. But it’s all part of the plan, how else will I keep you running…hot for me.”
“Force help me,” your head falls back as a groan slips past your lips, and you don’t notice where your hand descends until you feel Rex slipping his fingers around your wrist and shoving your arm away from your heated core.
“You can call out all you want, little Jedi, but the only one here is me…so you better put my name to good use.” Rex leans in close again, hovering just above your body as he taunts you with promises. His voice is a delicious growl, one that has you shaking with anticipation and pulling another moan from your throat.
“Rex…”
“Better,” the satisfaction in his eyes is unmistakable, and he brushes his lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that leaves you chasing after him when he pulls away to strip.
“Please Rex, I need you.” You beg sweetly, the words spilling out before you can stop them. You should be embarrassed by how wanton you sound, but you find that you couldn’t care any less, the need to have Rex settle between your thighs outgrowing any shame you have.
“I thought you needed to hear what I want to do to you?” His expression is dark and unreadable as he places his armor on the floor. He stands in nothing but the black body glove he wears beneath his armor, and you’re overwhelmed by how much you can see of him that you shut your eyes and throw your head back. Rex uses the momentary distraction to his advantage, sliding his eyes down your body to sketch a mental image of you in case he never gets to do this again. When he’s had his fair share of you, he removes the rest of his clothes until he’s not wearing anything.
“Look at me cyar’ika,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. When you obey and open your eyes, the air leaves your lungs dramatically, your mind unable to accept the fact that he’s more naked than you are, that you’re finally, finally, seeing all of him.
“You- you’re torturing me.” You’re shaking with lust, praying to the Force that Rex decides to lose control and take what he wants.
“Is that right?” His lips curl into a knowing smirk, the ghost of a laugh escaping him and making you flush embarrassingly as he moves on top of you. “Oh…maker,” there is no hesitation in his movements, just a careful balance of control and desperate need. Rex holds you tightly in his arms and kisses you until neither of you can breathe. You think he might break you and for a brief moment, you want him to, if only so he could know how much you belong to him. You arch your back into him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of having his skin slide against yours.
“Am I pleasing to you?” Rex lets go and wraps his hand around your neck, not firmly, but just to have you look at him. The muscles of his jaw flexes as he watches you lose control, his voice reverent as he practically begs for you to answer him.
“You have no idea,” your fingers curl into his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you try to somehow bring him even closer to you.
“I think I have some id-” he smiles faintly, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone before moving further down your body. His words are cut off by a groan when he feels you scratch his head. He can feel every inch of you growing hotter beneath his touch, and he doesn’t hold back any longer, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he slips two fingers beneath your panties and tugs violently until they rip in his hands. You squeal suddenly, partly shocked by the reaction, but mostly turned on by how much he craves you. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Rex is shoving your thighs apart and kissing your inner thighs, the scent of your cunt hitting his nostrils and making him growl, the sound rumbling from his chest and setting you on fire.
“Fuck mesh’la, you say I’m torturing you but the taste of you makes me…it- hmmm, kriff.” The gutteral sound sends heat pooling in your core, and you find yourself clinging to him even harder as you feel this lips ghost against the outer lips of your pussy.
“Rex,” you whimper, his name slipping from your lips as though it was the only word you knew.
“I know I begged you to call my name, but…if you keep moaning it so shamelessly, this night will come to an end a lot quicker.” Rex stills suddenly, looking up at you with wild eyes, his control hanging by an extremely thin thread.
“I- I don’t care Rex, I want you…I just want you, please.” You plead over and over again, trying your best to pull him up so he can forgo whatever he had in mind for you and just fuck you then and there.
“But I need to get you- oh, Force help me.” He moves up your body, pressing his forehead against yours and tripping over his words when he feels you wrap your hands around his hard cock.
“I’m already so wet for you baby, please…take me.” You whisper, desperation dripping from every word you pray to him. He’s heavy in the palm of your hand, hot and hard to the touch, and you wonder if this is how it will always be with him. You pray it is.
Maker, please.
“You should know, I need you so desperately that I- I may not be able to hold back.” His breathing grows ragged, the restraint unraveling rapidly the more you slide and squeeze his dick. He shuts his eyes and fists the sheets beneath you, and you can’t help but lean forward and kiss his jaw softly, licking down his throat and biting into the skin between his neck and his shoulder when he sinks against you.
Smiling at how easily you can bring his guards down, you pull him closer until your lips brush his ear, whispering the one sentiment you’ve thought of ever since you met him.
“Rex, I want you to fuck me like you hate me.”
“Oh, me’suum’ika, I don’t want to do that.” His head snaps up, eyes narrowing as he stares down at you with a tenderness that melts you. Rex presses his nose to your temple, sighing your name over and over again until you let go of him and bring him down for a kiss. He pushes you harder into the bed, slipping his hand behind your back to undo your chest band before throwing it behind him. You break the kiss to look at him, and Rex is sure he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life.
“I want to fuck you like I can’t breathe without you. I want to fuck you like I can’t get the thought of you out of my head…I want to fuck you like you’re mine, and I’m yours.”
Your heart swells at the raw, needy emotion in his words, and your hands slips into his hair, scratching it softly and smiling with tears in your eyes when he leans into the touch and groans in return.
“I am, I’ve been yours Rex. Only yours.”
“Shit, you’re going to be the death of me baby.” Rex exhales shakily, attacking your chest with more kisses and waiting until he hears you call for him again before taking a nipple in between his teeth. You arch your back against him, opening your thighs so he can settle better against you before crossing your legs behind his back. As soon as you feel his cock tease at your entrance, a wave of shameless desire seeps through your body and you feel your cunt throb in pain at having him so close.
“I- ohhh gods, I can’t wait any longer Rex.” You squirm beneath him, the action sliding his cock against you and making him bite your sensitive bud in return. “But…you deserve to be loved cyare. Slowly, deeply, passionately.” He wants nothing more than to push his cock into your pussy, but he waits, wanting to make sure that you’re ready for him so he doesn’t hurt you.
“We can d-do that later, however long you want…whenever you like. But I need to feel you inside me, now.” You shake your head, voice desperate and lust-filled. He studies you for a brief moment, and when he finds nothing but a needy truth swimming in your eyes, he pushes away and leans back to get a better look at you. His eyes zero in on your cunt, and his cock twitches at finally having you naked and willing beneath him.
“Spread your legs wide for me, and if it’s too much…if I’m too much, tell me.” Rex swallows hard, his eyes softening before darkening once more. You nod quickly, watching him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it across your cunt to spread your juices on him. The gesture is so filthy, and if it were any other man, you would have found it off-putting. But this was Rex, and you had only imagined him fucking you about a thousand times.
“R-rex,” you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, the sensation both overwhelming and mind-bending. Rex can’t take his eyes off of where you’re connected, and his breathing picks up when he begins to feel you clench around him, his cock sliding with ease from how wet you are. He can’t believe that he barely touched you and you were so ready for him, but he pushes the thought aside, wanting to relish every second he’s allowed to be inside you.
“Ah f-fuck, you’re…you’re so warm, so kriffing warm and tight.” He curses softly, his head falling back briefly before his eyes return to your cunt once more.
“I want to feel all of you Rex,” you run your hands over his arms, feeling the tense muscles shift with every movement. You silently wish that he falls against you so you can feel his body atop yours, and it must be evident in the way your eyes trail up and down his body because he slowly pushes himself on top of you, his cock sinking deeper into you as he shifts closer.
“Sweet girl, my beautiful jetii’ika.” Rex looks down at you, his eyes filled with awe and reverence, and something that should terrify you but instead makes you feel warm and cherished.
“You’re s-so deep inside me Rex, I feel…full.” Your voice hitches as he continues to push his dick inside you until he’s fully seated deep in your cunt. You bite into your fingers but Rex shakes his head, reminding you of his warning from earlier.
“Remember, your sounds are mine tonight. I want to hear everything that I do to you.” He grits his teeth, hands digging into your hips as he forces you to let go of your fingers and call his name.
“I love being this close to you... it’s perfect.” You confess, barely managing to string together a coherent thought as you feel him throbbing inside you.
“God, you feel so tight around me…” He wants to pull back and thrust inside you, but he holds back out of fear of hurting you. It’s only when he feels you wrap your legs around him and force him to move that he understands what you want from him. He pulls out until the crown of his cock is seated perfectly in between your pussy lips, and as soon as you moan for him, he thrusts back inside, the sensation sending his mind in a frenzy and nearly making him fuck you into oblivion. Rex stops for a moment, wanting to keep himself in check so he doesn’t terrify you by how much he craves you.
“Mmm, and you feel so big, so fucking hard and big. Move, Rex…please.” You throw your head to the side, biting into his wrist and whining in ecstasy when he obeys you and slowly snaps his hips against you.
“You’re so wet for me already and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He mutters beneath his breath, licking and sucking on your neck as he continues to shove his cock inside you, suddenly feeling dizzy at how perfect you feel around him. What he doesn’t expect is for you to chuckle in response and meet his gaze in an intense gaze, parting your lips and answering him with another, lust-filled confession.
“That’s because I- hmmm, I’ve imagined you fucking me every night since we met, and- and now that I’m here, in your arms-” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust, digging your nails into Rex’s back and smiling when you see his features turn into a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“Tell me baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire as he continues to fuck you passionately.
“Nothing compares to h-how you fill me up, Rex.” You confess, shaking at how perfectly Rex feels inside of you, cock hard and hot as it slides against your tight walls.
“You have no idea mesh’la,” you can tell his control is slipping further, and you wonder what it would take for him to lose all control and take you as you desire.
“I can- can feel how much you want this.” He leans down and swallows your moans, slipping his tongue inside of you and claiming your mouth while his cock claims your cunt.
“Yes... don’t stop. Go deeper, just like that.” You wrap your arms around him, breathing heavily against his ears as you feel him push into you with a pace that’s nearly blinding.
“You’re taking me so well, baby. This cunt was made for me, perfect fucking pussy. I can spend hours between your legs.” Rex’s voice comes out heavy, and he reaches down to place his arm around one of your thighs so he can push it higher and come closer against you.
“Please, harder…fuck me harder Captain.” You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations Rex continues to rip from your body.
“Whatever you want to make you lose control, General.” Rex groans in return, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes through the room, a frenzied beat that matches the pounding in his heart, he suspects, yours as well. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and when he finds you biting your lower lip to contain yourself, he slams harder into you until he has your attention.
“Look at me while I’m inside you... let me see how much you love this.” He demands assertively, eyes searching your own he feels sweat drip from his brow. There is a thick haze of lust clouding the room, and before you can even answer him, he thrusts harder, deeper, inside you, forcing your body to react in ways he only dreamt of. “Rex…I- I’m, I’m yours... all yours.” You acknowledge him without even thinking, the need dripping from your words matching the same one you can see storming in his eyes.
“You have all of me cyare, my heart, my soul…my everything.” Your confession drives him mad, and the look of pure ecstasy etching on your features sends him reeling, his body trembling as you cling on to him while he pushes you closer to the edge. You sob with pleasure as his movements pick up, his words igniting something primal inside of you.
“That’s it, baby. I can feel you getting closer. Don’t hold back—let go for me. Come for me. I want to feel you squeeze me..fall apart for me.” The possessiveness radiating off of him in waves should terrify you, but instead, you tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer to you so you can feel every inch of him as he coats your walls with his seed. The tension in your body is palpable, every nerve lit up like a wildfire as you approach that inevitable release. Rex must feel it too because he sinks into the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your sweat and something sweet that he might never forget.
“I’m so close... oh fuck, I’m going to come!” You cry against him, voice breaking as your body teeters on the brink of bliss.
“Fuck- I…I can’t. I need to-” His rhythm begins to stutter, his breathing becoming heavier and more erratic as he fights to hold on until he feels you come on his cock. Rex’s grip on you tightens, his fingertips pressing into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to reality, to the gift the universe has handed him after so long.
“Don’t hold back, Rex. I want you to come for me, come inside me. I want to feel you…want to take you so deep, fill me up. Please…p-please Rex,” you plead, clawing at his back as you show him that you need him just as desperately. Hearing you beg for him to fill you with his cum shatters the last of his resolve, his pace faltering as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he finally lets go, the pleasure crashing over him overtaking him just as it engulfs your body. He feels you tighten around him, your body convulsing so violently that he can’t figure out whether it’s you who’s crying in pleasure or him.
You’re completely spent, your pussy throbbing harshly as you feel Rex shoot long, hot spurts of his seed deep inside you. It shouldn’t please you so much, but knowing that you have him reach places inside you that no one else will make the pleasure all the more intense, and you twist your head until you can kiss along his neck, silently letting him know that you will never belong to anyone else but him.
He collapses over you then, supporting himself on his forearms so he doesn’t suffocate you. His head is still buried in your neck as you both gasp for air, body trembling slightly as he presses soft kisses to your skin in return. His lips linger over your pulse point where he can feel your heartbeat racing as quickly as his own. Rex lifts his head until he meets your eyes, his own brimming with affection as he smiles at you and nudges your nose with his.
“Baby, you’re everything to me.”
“Rex, I…I think I-” you start, voice quiet and uncertain, afraid that once you tell him what you feel, you will lose it all…lose him.
“I know. Cyare, I know.” He murmurs gently, his hand cradling your face as he leans down and kissing you slowly until you feel nothing but warmth and understanding.
And in that moment, you have no doubt that something deeper than words binds the two of you, something that no one will ever be able to take away from you.
Against his wishes, Rex pulls out of you with a groan, biting into his lower lip when he hears you whine with contention. You don’t let him go too far, sliding against his side and nuzzling into his chest as he pulls the covers above the two of you.
A comfortable silence fills the air and after a while, you look up to find Rex meditating deeply, his attention focused on the ceiling high above you.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask, fingers moving up and down his chest in a soothing way.
“I’m thinking of what will happen tomorrow now that you won’t be keeping your distance anymore.” He means it as a joke, but when he looks down and sees your hurt expression, he drops the smile and leans over to kiss you, letting you know that he meant no harm by the comment and was just teasing you.
“Rex, I’ll do whatever you want to do going forward. If you want me to act as if nothing has changed, I’ll do that. And if you want to tell your brothers, it would make me feel so happy…and- and if you want me to leave the Order, give up everything…I will gladly do so without a second thought.” Rex’s expression shifts, his brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his close-cropped hair. He looks at you like he’s trying to make sense of your words, trying to fit them into the reality he had come to know in the past rotation.
“You- you would leave the Jedi for me?” His voice is rough with disbelief, and for a moment, he is genuinely convinced he has misheard you. The idea that someone like you— strong, steadfast, bound by your sworn duty to the Jedi and the Republic—would ever consider leaving all of it…for him…maker, it seemed impossible. It had to be.
“I would do anything for you just to have you keep looking at me the way you are now.” You cut through his disbelief with the utmost sincerity, gaze never once wavering as you do your best to make him understand what he means to you. The silence that follows hangs heavy in the air, and Rex swallows hard as searches for the right words, for anything that could match the depth of what you just offered him. He reaches out, trailing his fingers over your cheeks as he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. The touch of his lips is reverent, as if he wants to assure himself that you are real, that you are in his arms, that you are willingly giving yourself to him without a second thought.
When he finally pulls away and sees tears pricking against your eyes, he smiles at you and nods in understanding.
“How about we go day by day, and when this war is over, we can reassess.” He finally says, his voice less anxious than before. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms, hands going to your waist to pull you flush against him. You cry out in pain and push yourself away from him, the reaction catching Rex by surprise and making him sit up to see what he’s done When he sees you grabbing at your wound and hissing in discomfort, dread settles in his chest as he realizes he forgot the wound and handled you a lot more aggressively that he should have.
“Kriff, your side…I- I completely forgot. Mesh’la, are you-” He leans over to assess the bacta patch, wanting to see the damage he’s done and already thinking of what to tell Kix when he asks him to come and inspect the wound. His panic rises as you push his hand away and look down to find the patch still in place, and only when you’re sure no blood has seeped through do you grab Rex’s hand and settle it against the wound.
“Rex, relax. I- to be honest with you, I’m not sure whether or not I felt any pain. I was so far gone in our…activities, that I didn’t really focus on anything else.” His eyes are less anxious as you allow him to massage the skin around the wound, and when he sees there are no lies in your words, he nods and studies the irritated skin one last time before settling back down, bringing you into his chest gently.
He smiles when he feels you kiss just above his heart, giggling softly when you pinch his side and tease him for being so cuddly.
“Can I ask you something?” It’s his turn to interrupt the silence filling the room, and tilt your head up to nod at him.
“Anything!” His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles at the earnestness in your voice, his heart skipping a beat at the prospect of giving him the answer he’s been seeking for months on end.
“At what point did your feelings switch from wanting to be with me physically to…to whatever they are now?” Rex hesitates, choosing his words carefully and refusing to look anywhere else out of fear of missing a change in your facial expressions. When your brow lifts and your hand returns to his stomach, you can’t help but smile at him and shift your gaze to a fixed point somewhere on the skin beneath your palm.
“You mean when did I know that I’m yours?” His face flushes with embarrassment, but he nods instantly, not wanting to turn this moment awkward by his boyish reaction to your rather honest sentiment.
“I don’t think I can pinpoint a day or an hour, it all happened so suddenly and I didn’t realize how deep my feelings ran for you until I was so far gone in them.” You exhale deeply, turning a little contemplative as you admit to him everything you’ve felt for the past year or so.
“If I were to pick a reason though, it would have to be the way you carry yourself with your brothers, with Anakin even.” He looks down at you then, his gaze unwavering as he feels his soul light with a fire that he’s sure no one will ever put out now that you’ve kindled it.
“Seeing you give up so much to ensure your brothers live for another day stirred something inside me. And knowing that you’d follow Anakin into a battlefield without a second thought is…it’s- maker Rex, you’re amazing. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” Your voice cracks slightly with emotion, a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you let him know that you will never care for anyone more than you care for him. Rex blinks down at you, stunned into silence at the raw honesty behind your words.
“The loyalty, the courage—it speaks volumes.” His chest tightens as you speak those words, and he can’t help but turn to face you fully so he can focus on nothing else but the way you fit perfectly in his arms.
“Come here, me’suum’ika.” He wraps his arms around you and molds you into his chest, stealing the breath from your lungs with a kiss that you’re sure would rival all the others he’s gifted you with so far. You let him take whatever he wants from you, sliding your arm around his back to feel every inch of him as he makes you forget the universe outside of your room.
“What does that word mean?” You smile at him when he finally breaks the kiss and trails his lips across your cheeks and down your neck.
“It means ‘little moon.’” Rex murmurs gently, as if he was sharing a secret meant only for your ears. Your heart swells at the tender nickname, and you press yourself closer to him, wanting to stay in his embrace for as long as you’re allowed. You breathe his presence to anchor yourself to him, refusing to acknowledge the chaos of the war raging outside your existence, here in this moment.
“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper pleadingly, voice barely audible. “Please.”
Rex’s hands tighten around you, and he brushes his thumb over your skin as he pulls you back to meet your gaze.
“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, cyar’ika.”
The word sends a shiver down your spine, and you lose yourself in his arms, knowing that nothing will ever compare to what you now share with him.
And as you slowly succumb to sleep, Rex silently thanks the mythical bird for giving him what he’s wished for. The war may not be over, but it could wait. The galaxy, with all its heartbreak and evil, can be someone else’s concern. Tonight, Rex had you, and that was more than enough.
You were all he ever desired.
And he finally had you.
#LDE24#cloneficgiftexchange#captain rex x reader#captain rex/reader#rex x reader#rex/reader#star wars fanfiction#writing challenge#clone fanfiction#clone x reader#the clone wars#the clone wars fanfiction#jedi reader
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Neck kisses bestowed upon any of the vampires you think would have interesting reactions, turn the tables on them ( ・∇・)
. ˚◞♡ Reader that gives neck kisses to their vampire s/o's◞ ₊˚
𖹭. a selection of the vampires from out vampire au /gn reader
‧꒰ character sheet . legendarium . prompt page ꒱‧
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ XUĚLÍNG꒱ Would be most pleased at the feeling of your neck kisses. he’s used to them, yes. but you, you know how to catch him off guard. drawing sweet gasps from him, leaving him melting and slinking into your arms. lips parted and eyes fluttering.
oh the times he has ripped his nails through your skin at the feel of your warmer lips against his cold skin. it sends tingles down his spine.
pin him against the table, he begs for you to do so often. but you never do, and it drives him crazy.
vampire prince x reader, prostitute x reader
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ JÙN LÁI ꒱ it started as soft neck kisses that ever so slowly began turning more and more frenzied. he had been preparing for his next lesson and you. his secret little lover, had decided to come refresh him a bit.
he freezes for a moment, breath hitching. oh the sound of his breath hitching. a rare but ever so delightful sound. shivers running down his cold skin. your warmth is too much for his senses.
what other thing can he do but swing you over and pin you onto his desk while leaving behind heated kisses down your neck.
you’re too kind.
vampire prince x reader, professor x reader
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ TALISEN ꒱ would go crazy. leaning his neck back to give you as much access to his neck as you want. heavy panting and groaning from each and every kiss to render you flustered.
his arms wrap around you so tightly. pulling you closer to him, while a hand snakes up to the back of your head and helps guide your lips around his skin. he often fantasizes about when your plush skin will be against his next time?
it truly is something he cannot get enough of. he has replicated you multiple times, but they’re illusions of you. they’re not you. it isn’t ever the same
he needs your lips.
vampire prince x reader, poet x reader
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 1311 ꒱ would react with a throat gone dry. hunger rushing through him. the feel of your lips on his neck would remind him of how it feels to have someone feast on you. it’s tempting to tell you to bite down on his neck.
feel you drink from his blood. initiate in the sacred intimate ritual of sharing red crimson between lovers. how he’d love to see your mouth dripping with his essence.
but, you are no vampire. he could fix such problem quick— but then again. . . it’d ruin the fun for now.
it does not stop him from turning around to take a quick sips of you, when you have finished kissing and worshipping his skin.
vampire prince x reader, assassin x reader
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ MÙCHÉN ꒱ flattered at your gesture and with no hesitation pulls you onto his lap to sit and continue. leaning his head back while chuckles rumble through him. vibrating against your lips. with a deep breath, you feel yourself shifted and pressed up against a chair.
not so that he could take over — it seems the king enjoys feeling your lips from different positions. the way you crane your neck. lean forward, bend down. tug him to your height. he can’t get enough of it.
he wants to feel your lips from every angle and position he possibly can get you into as you kiss his neck. the most flustering one must’ve been when he urged you to get up on him from behind and kiss the back of his neck.
The first vampire x reader, Vampire king x reader
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ARISTAIOS ꒱ barely allows you to get a kiss or two in on his neck. hungry to please you instead. he flips you over and trails his lips down your neck. licking long streaks across the delicate, warm skin.
his little human plaything, is what he calls you.
you know he means different. he simply calls you such names out of shame. a vampire, falling for a human? what scandal.
and yet he cannot let you go. not without giving you a bit of pleasure. sure he could take your devotion and worship. but, he was always more of a giver with his lovers than one who takes. . .
when they behave, that is.
vampire king x reader
#⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ cupcake rush — vamp au multi character ꒱#monster boyfriend#monster girl#teratophillia#vampire x resder#tertao#monster fucker#prince x reader#princess x reader#monster x reader#x reader#reader insert#gn reader#oc x reader#original character x reader#Talisen vamp au#aristaios vamp au#xueling vamp au#rishen 1311 vamp au#jun lai vamp au#muchen vamp au#asterism vampire au#asterism
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You probably know where the inspiration for this one comes from, but can I pretty please request a Hunter x Reader with the line “I’d rather share one short life with you than spend my whole life alone, " possibly in a fantasy AU where Hunter is a knight and reader is a princess??
Congratulations on 1300 followers, lovey!
Girl, you know the quickest way to my heart! Give me Hunter AND Aragorn?? YES!! 🥰 Glad you caught where that line prompt came from lol I just re-worded it a little differently.
I can definitely do a fantasy AU for you, my sweet Liz 💜🥰
"Heart of a Man"
7. “I’d rather share one short life with you than spend my whole life alone.”
Pairing: Hunter x Princess reader (Fantasy AU)
***
As a Princess, you were not afforded the luxury of love. Your older brother was next in line for the throne, so you didn't have to worry about the pressure of being Queen one day and finding a suitable spouse to rule with. However, you were expected by your parents, the King and Queen, to enter a political marriage with the Prince of another kingdom to secure an alliance between your kingdom and his. You didn't want to be forced into something like that, but you were a Princess; therefore, it was your duty.
You especially didn't want to go through with the marriage because your heart already belonged to someone else...someone you unfortunately could not be with.
His name was Hunter and he was the Captain of the Kingsguard. He was the one your father always entrusted with your safety when you traveled to other kingdoms or needed security or an escort somewhere. When you spent so much time with the Captain, it was almost inevitable that you would fall for him. Especially when he was handsome beyond compare with his long, dark hair and a skull tattoo on half of his face; a mark of the tribe of people he hailed from. Even the most handsome Prince in all the world that every maiden fawned over would not rival the Captain. Not by a long road. He was also noble, loyal, brave and incredibly kind. Even though he was loyal to the King and tried to abide by his sworn duty to protect you, he couldn't deny his true feelings either and had fallen for you, too.
After one particular trip, when you had almost been assassinated and the Captain had saved your life by putting himself between you and the attacker, you had let your feelings slip by kissing him when you were alone in the medical room. The both of you had suspected there was something more between you, but had chosen to not act on your feelings so as to not put yourselves in compromising positions. That day, though, when you thought you'd almost lost him, you decided duties be damned. Even if it was just the once.
It was that day that changed everything. Your tender kiss was what caused a shift in the Captain's heart...a shift so great that one night, at a grand ball; the one where you were supposed to announce your engagement to the Prince, even, he came to you with an offer that greatly surprised you.
The feast was over and everyone in attendance was mingling or dancing. Your parents were talking with the Prince's parents and the Prince was trying to talk to you, too, but you weren't really in a mood. You hated that you were even at this ball to begin with. Luckily, Hunter came to your rescue, telling you he had some urgent business to discuss with you, which gave you the excuse to take your leave of the Prince.
He led you to the secluded gardens out on the grounds of the castle and once he was sure the two of you were out of sight from any patrols or royals, he took you in his arms and kissed you with such overwhelming passion that you immediately couldn't help but reciprocate.
"Was this your urgent business, Captain?" you asked between kisses.
"Yes and no," he answered, "but I will get to it in a moment."
You pulled away and hugged him around his waist, burying your face in his chest. "I don't want to go through with this," you told him, your voice quivering as you felt his hand smooth your hair. "I don't want to be with the Prince. I want to be with you. If I marry the Prince, I'll be taken away to his kingdom and I'll never see you again. I don't know if my heart could bear it."
Tears fell from your eyes and onto his armor. For a short moment, he said nothing, but when he did, he said something that you didn't anticipate:
"Then run away with me."
Stunned, you lifted your head to look at him, his brown eyes almost glowing in the moonlight as he looked down lovingly at you.
"I can't deny myself of this any longer," he told you. "My heart as a man has overcome my duty as a knight...and I have fallen deeply in love with you, my Princess."
You lightly gasped in both surprise and delight. He swore he would not shirk his duty as the Captain and that he would not compromise you that way for your safety...but now, it appeared that he was forgoing that vow.
"I can't bear the thought of you marrying the Prince either," he continued. He reached down and took your hands in his. "Run away with me and marry me, Princess. We can go anywhere, just us, and be together as we desire." He brought your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles, showing his heartfelt devotion to you. “I’d rather share one short life with you than spend my whole life alone. Come with me...tonight...please, (Y/N)."
Never in all the time you'd known him had he ever addressed you by just your name. It was always formalities such as "Princess", "your Highness" or "my lady". That proved to you how incredibly serious he was about this proposal...and you thought your heart would burst with all-consuming joy.
"Yes!" you quietly exclaimed. "Yes, I will go with you and I will marry you! Yes!"
You threw all caution to the wind and jumped up on him, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him happily. He stumbled back slightly from the impact, but he held you in place against him as he kissed you in return.
When he set you back to the ground, he kept going, "I only have a bit of money to my name and I don't have a ring for you yet, but I can offer you my heart and my undying devotion. My duty to you remains the same: I will do everything in my power to protect you and to make you happy. I will love you for the rest of my days and beyond."
"I don't need anything else," you reassured him, your hand coming up to his cheek. "I only need my beloved Captain and the love he gives. That alone makes me richer as a woman than being a Princess ever did."
With a sigh of both relief and love, Hunter turned and pressed his lips to your palm.
"I love you so much," you told him.
"And I love you," he replied. "More than I can ever put into words."
"When do we leave...Hunter?" you asked with a smile, his name sweet as honey on your tongue.
"We can leave this very moment, if you wish," he answered.
"Then what are we waiting for, my love? Our future awaits."
Photogirl894's Fluff/Romance prompts
Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics
#star wars the bad batch#the bad batch#bad batch hunter#sergeant hunter#my sergeant#bad batch prompts#hunter x reader#photogirl894 1300 followers
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Day 5: Love Letter / Royal x Knight - Yonji x Sabo
[Inspired by the painting “The love letter” by George Edward Robertson]
For, again, some lore and even some sketches on the royal x knight prompt 👇
A recent assassination attempt on his life makes King Judge of the reign of Germa even more paranoid than the usual, so he decides to hire some knights to protect his sons and daughter. The first to arrive at Germa’s castle is the knight that will have to protect his youngest son, Yonji. Sabo has recently finished his training as a knight, and he’s quite disappointed to see that the first man that he has to protect clearly doesn’t need the protection of anyone. And, most of all, he doesn’t even want it: Yonji, as the theoretically fourth practically third in line for the throne, is been raised to be the perfect soldier, so he doesn’t really understand why he should need the protection of someone else, especially if clearly weaker than him (the Germa princes aren’t exactly know for their good personalities).
But they will be both surprised as they know each other more, discovering they are actually quite similar, and the closeness of their respective roles will lead to unexpected feelings of fondness and maybe even something more. But when Sabo has to go away ((don’t ask me why I haven’t thought about that yet something with the Revolutionary Army probably)) Yonji starts reflect on his feelings ((in a perfect world this is a very slow burn story)) and decides to write him a letter declaring his feelings and saying goodbye, with the certainty that they will never met again. But he doesn’t find the courage to send it.
Time passes, and Sabo returns (in secret). Yonji, fearing of being separated again, gives him the letter and found his feelings reciprocated ((yey!!).
But to stay together one of the two should renounce to his life and so angst ((no!!)). What they will do? Will I continue this story? I doubt it but you can’t never know
The first time that Yonji sees Sabo
A sad conversation, Yonji is talking about his uselessness being the fourth son and fifth child (in a royal family prospective: Reiju will marry for political reasons, Ichiji will be the King, and Niji is there if something happen to the first in line and also in this universe is like an intellectual/is studying. Sanji escaped years ago from their father after their mother’s death, despite having a kind of nice relationship with his brothers). It is the first time that Sabo sees Yonji vulnerable
#vinshippingweek2024#one piece#germa 66#vinsmoke brothers#vinsmoke yonji#revolutionary sabo#one piece sabo#yonji x sabo
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Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Five: It starts with a kiss
Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU
Pairings: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC); Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster
Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster.
Rating: M (see trigger warnings in the notes bellow)
Word count: ~8k
Summary: After the drinking games at Edgewater, before sunrise, someone will reveal their feelings; and fortunately those suffering with a hungover, won't need to deal with it alone.
A/N:
All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. Turkish words are translated in the notes in the end.
Trigger warnings: mentions of past drinking and drug consumption. Reader discretion advised.
This is my submission to @choicesprompts ' Flufftober 2024 Choices - prompts 1 (First Kiss)
September, 2018 – London – Friday night – six weeks before the weekend at Edgewater
Slumped onto one of the large armchairs settled in the middle of the game room, Edmund used one controller to adjust the lights, a softer blueish hue surrounded them, and the other to select an option, starting the gameplay and its characteristic music blasted.
Elizabeth sighed and asked, “Are you sure you’re not going? It’ll be fun.”
“I avoided Theresa’s boring soirée at the Holloways and am finally free to enjoy a quiet night leading an assassin through Ancient Egypt, so unless a raging fire erupts, I’m not leaving this house.”
“It's Friday night, Ed! I can’t believe you’d rather play video games instead of going out with us… Didn’t you say you and Annabelle were friends?”
“I’ve said she was Harry’s friend, and we share a few common interests, but pubs crawl or whatever you folks will be doing is not one of them. Could you please move a bit to the left? You’re blocking the screen...”
Crossing her arms, she huffed and stepped aside.
“You complained you’re a twenty-four-year-old that lives a seventy-year-old man’s life and yet I’m inviting you to a night out with fun people and you’d rather stay home…” she shook her head slowly at him.
“Not tonight, Eliza! Maybe next week I can go out and pretend to be young. But give me a few days’ notice to prepare myself...”
A light tap on the doorframe and Elizabeth’s face darted to the brunette standing with a wide smile framed by flamming red lips.
“Lizzy, I hope I’m not interrupting… but Annabelle and Luke texted they’re already there.”
“I was just saying goodbye to my stepbrother. I don’t think you’ve met, have you?”
The man sighed, before pausing the game. His gaze slowly moved from the screen and when he turned around to face the friend by the door his jaw almost dropped to the floor. The sight of the woman in black skinny trousers and a burgundy blouse waving at him with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen stole his breath away.
“Hi, Edmund!”
“Hi. Hello. You... Ah... Hi,” he mumbled, unable to control the increasing racing of his heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like? he wondered, while brushing his clammy hands against his trousers.
Conscious of the impact she caused, Briar huffed a quiet laugh and shifted to address her friend.
“Nice to meet you, Edmund,” she said while shaking his hand. “I hope we meet again.”
“I am going with you!” he blurted out.
“You are?” Elizabeth’s head whipped in his direction, and she stared in disbelief as he turned off the game and put the controller down at the coffee table.
“I just need to go to my room,” he said rising from the armchair and brushing past them, “Five minutes. I’ll meet you by the door.”
Briar’s eyes followed the man almost running down the hallway, and she giggled.
“Does it run in the family?”
With a puzzled look, Elizabeth’s eyes darted to the same direction Briar was staring and she caught a glimpse of Edmund sprinting down the hall, “What does?”
“Being cute and a dork?”
October 28th, 2018 – Edgewater – Sometime after the drinking game
It’s hard to tell when Edmund realized it was not the best idea for an engaged man to go knock on the door of a woman who is not his fiancée. It's even worse to do so in the middle of the night while slightly drunk.
He should’ve taken a cold shower to get rid of the idea that wormed its way into his mind, overshadowing every other thought concocted by his brain.
But he didn’t.
Anyways, he hates cold showers.
Staggering out of his room didn’t clear his mind or brought the realization of how bad that idea was. Crossing the few meters that separated his room from Briar’s door didn’t do it for him either. Not even when he tapped lightly with his knuckles, praying she was already sleeping and wouldn’t hear it - however, even then, his heart was clutching at the hope she would. So that was not that enlightenment moment either.
When the door slightly cracked open to allow visual confirmation of the night visitor, Edmund took a deep steadying breath, but it did little to stop his hands from shaking.
A moment later, Briar leaned against the doorframe smiling at him with such warmth that it was impossible not to think she cherished him. Maybe the only woman who ever did. And that was the moment he realised it was either the most brilliant move or his worst idea ever. Still, he once more was torn between the options.
Playing with a long lock of her hair, her gaze lingered on his face, and she asked with a smile, “Trouble sleeping?”
“I need to talk. To get this out of my chest. Can I come in?”
Masking her surprise with another smile, she nodded and moved to the side, no questions asked.
That was their thing, wasn’t it? Heart to heart conversations in the middle of the night... Only this time, he would also see her face while talking... and maybe he would find the answers he wishes.
The man zigzagged until his knee bumped in the bed, and he slumped on the mattress. Giggling, she closed the door.
“You’re sloshed, Eddie!” her giggles fanned his face when she sat on the bed beside him and helped him sit up.
“I’m certainly not. How dare you imply – No, I’m utterly sloshed. I can’t even pretend I’m not.” He let out a heartfelt laughter, and she used a hand to cover his mouth and shush him.
His clear blue eyes crinkled with a smile. The gentle touch of her hand and the proximity of their bodies made his heart race. It was a shame this blurriness prevented him from seeing her eyes more clearly and the natural form of her lips without any lipstick. But he could tell he loved them nonetheless.
“Quiet or you’ll wake everyone up,” she hissed, but there was no edge on her voice, while her hand slowly retreated. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You’re beautiful,” he sighed, and a tentative hand reached out to rest on Briar’s cheek, who didn’t flinch. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even more, when I’m sober, because I can really see you... You’re a bit blurred now... and I can’t see your eyes... and I adore your eyes… they are so… so… intense… and warm... and kind... But my mind already knows you’re beautiful. Inside too. Not your insides... insides... like your guts... but your mind and your heart –” He stopped talking when she failed to stifle her giggles.
“You’re laughing at me!” he mumbled, and pulled his hand away.
Trying to stifle her giggles, she tried to remedy the situation, placing her hand on his bouncing knee when his uneasiness drove him to the edge of the mattress. She wasn’t certain if she wanted him to stay, but she didn’t want him to leave yet.
“Was that the urgent matter you needed to ‘get out of your chest’?” she questioned with a soft voice, matching the proximity shared. His attention immediately returned to her, and a timid smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
“No, but your beauty is too distracting…” There was a lilt of laughter in his tone, and his fingers combed his ash blonde hair back and rested at the nape of his neck.
“I won’t apologise for that,” she huffed a laugh, and her cheeks were noticeable darker from blushing because of his words, and this alone almost sobered him up.
Edmund leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and his breath carried the scent of mint flavoured toothpaste mixed with a hint of liquor – more than a hint, actually.
She suspected the liquor fuelled this unexpected audacity, considering how shy and restrained he was during their ride this afternoon; however, if asked, he would say this was all about her, her presence was intoxicating, and his self-control reached its limit tonight.
Her breath hitched when his hand touched her cheek this time. Closing her eyes, she revelled on the feather light touch of his thumb caressing her velvety skin, following a path towards her mouth. When he traced the curves of her lips, it quietened everything else but her thunderous heartbeats.
Her tongue was emptied, no flirty or funny words ready to fly away... In fact, every brain cell was screaming for her to shut up and kiss him; and his were probably doing the same, considering the way his hooded eyes fixed on her mouth when he leaned even closer. Without any warning, he bowed until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. Their gazes locked for a second that lasted an eternity, a silent dialogue between their yearnings.
The pull of her luscious lips became so irresistible.
Waiting for permission, his lips ghosted hers and they were so close he could almost taste her exhales.
Briar said nothing, licked her lips and closed the gap.
At first, his lips touched hers delicately, then more insistently when his hand slid to the back of her neck and brought their faces closer. It was awkward for a few seconds, too much tension, noses bumping and eyes wide open staring at the other; until her hands cradled his cheeks and gently tilted his head to adjust his position.
This was enough to make it more and more enjoyable. Her lips glided over his, and when she captured his lower lip between hers, he let out a barely audible gasp. And she made a mental note about his reaction.
More confident, one of his hands caressed her knee while the fingers on the one nestled on the nape of her neck delved into her hair, eliciting goosebumps and she let out a sigh.
The moment he parted his lips, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time, it felt as if the sole purposes of their lips and tongues were to kiss one another.
When she pulled away to try and catch her breath, his lips followed hers, and she smiled to herself satisfied, both hands cradling his face.
Meanwhile, Edmund’s entire body tingled, and there was a pleasant warmth enveloping him, as if being swaddled by a duvet someone else warmed just for you.
Looking at her, his brain buzzed with a swarm of thoughts. Did he drink too much or was there really something different about kissing Briar? A spark. An energy. A connection.
“Did you feel it too? Tell me I’m not bloody crazy…” he asked, leaning his forehead to touch hers.
“I’m not a psychiatrist, Eddie… but I think you lost your mind. I definitely did, too.”
With a huff, his head tilted back, and before another loud laughter escaped his mouth, she covered it with her hand. This time, he grabbed it and kissed her palm gently, and her eyes fluttered close.
“We’re both too sloshed for this...”
“I can’t… I can’t think of anything else. Only you, Briar.”
Hearing those words was bittersweet. It was exactly what she hoped for, but not like this. Not a drunk confession. And especially not after spending time with Theresa and knowing she’s oblivious to their flirting and growing affection. And now they’re kissing while she sleeps!
“You shouldn’t say things like that...” she chided, “Your fiancée is asleep somewhere... over there...” Her free hand pointed randomly at the wall beside them, and he grimaced.
“This has nothing to do with her… let’s pretend for a moment I’m not engaged.”
Frowning, she pulled her hand from his grasp.
“What a nasty thing to say!”
“Briar,” Edmund called her name, his voice softer and more slurred, but she didn’t look back at him and pushed his chest. “I told you, Theresa and I… that is not real… she doesn’t love me either… she loves… loved… somebody else… not me… but you and I… I –”
“Is she aware of how you feel? Because the engagement seems pretty real to her! She showed me pictures of bloody wedding dresses!”
Edmund’s hand rubbed his face, and he exhaled loudly.
“If you’re here for a one nightstand, just... own it! Don’t sweet talk me...”
“Briar, I think – not think, I know… I fell for you.”
Slack jawed, she gaped, and it took her a few breaths to find the words again. “Eddie… You shouldn’t say that either. You do have a fiancée and you’re sloshed… I know you’ll regret everything tomorrow... and leave me heartbroken.”
“Never. You got me head over heels… I’m yours.”
Briar’s face tilted upwards, and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment and let out a loud frustrated exhale. If cupid was a real thing, she would murder hers slowly and painfully.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she muttered under her breath.
“Is it Woods?”
“Arthur?” Her head whipped to look at him. “What does Arthur have to do with this mess?”
“Do you love him?”
“I-” she paused and pressed her lips together. “I could... eventually... but not when... because of this..." Her finger pointed back and forward at them.
There was too much satisfaction in hearing those words, and he let out a relieved sigh.
“You feel it too?” he asked, and his voice was barely above a whisper.
“What if I do? Does it change anything?”
Edmund tentatively touched her face and guided her eyes to look back at him. “It changes all!”
“How?” she asked, but immediately changed her mind and waved her hands. “Please, don’t tell me... or... I’ll believe you.”
“Believe me.”
He pulled her in for another kiss, and all the fight left her when his tongue swirled with hers. He was already leaning to push her down on the mattress, but she pushed him back.
“No more kissing.” Out of breath, Briar placed a hand on his chest to put some distance between them and held her head high. “Talk. Tell me what you’ll do. I won’t be anyone's playtoy.”
Edmund obediently complied. It felt invigorating to make plans for his own future without consulting with his mother first, and especially plans that included Briar. They talked some more and kissed one last time before sleep claimed their eyes sometime before dawn.
Briar's face was the last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered close, and he thought that was heavenly.
A persistent buzzing noise invaded Elizabeth’s dreamless sleep, almost like the sounds of cicadas in scorching summer nights demanding the world’s attention to their performance. Answering the compelling call, her eyes fluttered open, but it was the same as if they didn’t. Surrounded by darkness, the coldness kissing her feet that escaped from underneath the duvet reminded her it wasn’t summer. She immediately pulled it, rubbing the cold feet against the mattress.
While her body reluctantly woke up and her brain regained consciousness, she was confronted by confusion and immense discomfort all at once, reminders of the insane amount of alcohol she ingested last night.
Her head ached as if samba percussionists were beating repeatedly their instruments out of cadence to punish her. The parchedness in her mouth seemed like she had wandered the desert for days. Trying to alleviate it, her lips parted, but her mouth had dried out and it was difficult to swallow and get rid of the disgusting taste sitting on her tongue.
The buzzing sound echoed again, attacking her ears, and she realized it was probably the mobile vibrating with incoming messages over the nightstand. Even though she wondered what time it was, the identity of the caller or texter and their reasons to be trying to reach her in what she assumed was the middle of the night didn’t pique her interest at all, if anything it riled her up for disturbing her rest. Mustering the strength to reach the nightstand to turn off the phone, she tried to roll over, but something blocked her path and restrained her motion. Not something, but someone.
In the dark she couldn’t rely on her sight, but her other senses worked perfectly, collecting information of quiet sounds of breathing behind her, the light pressure of a body against her back, and the arm she finally noticed dangling over her waist underneath the covers. And lastly, the fragrance that reached her nostrils was unmistakable.
“Hamid?” her voice sounded hoarse in the quiet room, almost unrecognisable.
The body stirred, and he hummed his response. His warm breath fanned her neck, and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed, she would have enjoyed it.
Why are you in my bed, dude? The question died in her tongue, but not the surprise stirred by his presence.
“Do you need to go to the toilette again?” his sleepy voice reached her ears.
Again? When did I even go to the toilet?
Her mind raced, trying to cling to any memory that could explain Hamid sleeping on her bed. But she found none. Maybe she should take the hint, get up, go to the toilet, wash her face, and drink some water. And definitely get some aspirins before her head explodes, and something for the burning stomach and nausea too. And maybe if she feels better, she will remember.
“I’m thirsty,” she said fighting the dryness of her mouth.
His arm retreated, and his hand lightly brushed the skin of her abdomen, and soon was gone, but not the goosebumps on its wakening.
“The glass is empty, but if you give me a minute, I’ll get you some more…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get up…” she said without moving to get off the bed right away.
His weight shifted in the mattress. Hamid rubbed his eyes and stretched his arm aimlessly until his fingers reached the switch in the wall. The room was flooded by bright light.
“Turn it off, please!” she squealed scrunching her eyelids. Her hands flew to her eyes, mostly because of the bright lights, and only partially because of the brief sight of his bare torso. “Why are you shirtless? Are you naked?”
“Don’t you remember?”
“I-I don’t…”
“Allah Allah, I thought that was memorable...”
The pacing of the tiny percussionists inside her brain grew even faster and stronger, and her heart joined the rhythm.
“What are you talking about?” she dared ask with a strangled voice.
“The re-enactment of the projectile vomit scene from the Exorcist,” he said very slowly, and realization dawned on her.
“Oh, my god! I puked? On you?”
“Fortunately, you had asked me to take you to the toilette, and my t-shirt was the target and not my face.”
“I puked on you?” she repeated, shocked by the idea.
What the flying fudge cracker! That's a whole new level of stupidity, isn’t it? Why did I drink this much?
“I’m so sorry!” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. “That’s so gross… I-I… Sorry.”
She wanted to run away and hide forever, but her body was so tensed it froze.
“Hey,” he said softly, but she didn’t uncover her eyes. After calling her name, his hand reached one of hers, which she reluctantly let him grab – she couldn’t understand why on earth he was anywhere near her.
“It’s okay, Liz. You did nothing wrong.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s untrue... I’m mortified... What else do I have to apologise for?”
“Don’t worry, aside from the vomiting and being horny and handsy, drunk Liz makes delightful company...”
The joke did little to lessen her embarrassment. How can he be so chill about it?
“What do you mean by ‘handsy’?”
“You tried to kiss me and grab my butt.”
“What? I would never!” she protested, knowing well enough that she prefers his sculpted torso and arms to his bottom, even though it has a nice round shape... And she's clearly still a bit horny.
“You also took ‘no’ for an answer, which was remarkably respectful.”
She let an exasperated huff through her mouth and pressed her hands against her face. “I can’t have this conversation now...”
“We can revisit it some other time, I’ll gladly share the details.”
“How about never?”
Smiling, he sat straighter and lighted the lamp on the nightstand. His eyes, cleared of sleep, stared directly at hers, “Drinking like that is unusual to you, I understand. And you don’t have to feel embarrassed about what happened.”
“That’s impossible...” she sighed and looked at him, wondering what else she has said and done. “Just to clarify, you’re not naked…”
“No, I’m not. And I’d never cross that line. You were drunk and asked me to stay, and I did. To keep you company. That’s all.”
Relief washed over her, and she smiled. “Thanks. For not… you know… and for sticking around.”
“Don’t mention it. Someone had to hold your hair up, prevent you from dancing and falling on your magnificent bottoms, and bumping your head on the furniture.”
“Oh, God! It did happen then!” Hamid nodded. “Is that why my head hurts?” Her fingers raked her hair, searching for any sign of a bump.
“I’m pretty sure that’s the alcohol.”
“What time is it?”
He picked his mobile in the nightstand. “7:45.” Stealing a sideway glance at her worried face, his finger caressed the back of her hand, and he asked softly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you something to drink? Annabelle brought a bottle of isotonic drink. And I can get you something to eat…”
“I – No, I’m fine now. Even thinking about food makes me sick… I’ll go to the... you know… and you... go back to sleep. Excuse me.”
Hamid let go of her hand, and Elizabeth rolled to the opposite side of the bed, moving away from him, and not looking back even when she felt his stare. She swung her legs touching the carpet and noticed both her socks were gone. Her feet were heavy, just like the rest of her body, and she dragged them on her way to the en-suite. The touch of the frigid floor against the soles of her feet, caused her to shiver, and she mentally cursed not putting on the slippers.
Closing the door, she barely had the time to turn on the light before her legs started giving away underneath her. Pressing her hands against the cool marble of the sink to support her weight, she avoided stumbling or collapsing to the floor. Performing every little task took too much energy, and she almost gave up on washing her face, but the invigorating cold water gave her the necessary boost to continue. By the time she took the toothbrush to her mouth, she needed to sit down. Flopping down into the wooden bench near the bathtub, she noticed Hamid’s white t-shirt soaked-wet dangling over the rim of the tub, and two pairs of socks hanging on the faucet.
Suddenly, a panicked Hamid kneeling on the floor in front of her, begging her to keep her eyes open flashed before her eyes; was it a memory or her imagination?
Her hand barely moved to brush her teeth, and her heavy eyelids were impossible to keep open with all the light around her. She would close them for one second, maybe two.
The sound of the toothbrush falling and hitting the floor didn’t wake her up, but she couldn’t ignore the soft but persistent rapping on the door.
“Liz,” Hamid asked softly, “are you alright?”
Her hand rubbed the foam from her lips and chin, and she picked up the toothbrush from the floor. “I’m fine,” she replied getting up, and the movement made her dizzy. Slowly moving back to the sink, she heard him speaking again.
“You’ve been in there for a very long time…”
“I’m brushing my teeth.”
She washed her mouth, took another gulp of tap water, and tied her hair in a high bun.
When she opened the door, Hamid was standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a worried look. It surprised her that he didn’t go back to sleep or to his own room.
“How are you, really?” he asked, carefully speaking in a low tone that wouldn’t be uncomfortable considering the aftereffects of the alcohol.
“I brushed my teeth, but my mouth still tastes like a smelly old brolly –”
Hamid chuckled and it eased the frown of his brows. “That’s very specific. How do you even know what it tastes like?”
“My mind does,” she sighed. “My head hurts. My stomach is on fire, and I could drink a bucket of water. And mostly I’m feeling incredibly dumb for drinking this much again...” And puking on you.
“For now, we can take care of the head and stomach.”
Walking past her, Hamid crouched and opened a door of the cabinet under the sink. With familiarity, he produced a white box with a red cross painted at the top from the first shelf and took a bottle of antacids and another of aspirins, both were placed on the sink in front of her.
With a grimace she drank the liquid as instructed and the pill sat bitterly on her tongue while she waited for him to come back with the bottle of Gatorade.
Watching her swig half of the content of the bottle without stopping to breath, an amused smile parted his lips.
“And for the dumbness –”
“You’ll keep mocking me endlessly and not let me forget it...” her tongue was quicker and sharper than his ever would, and she huffed in frustration, letting her shoulders slump.
“Why would I do that?” he asked softly, brows knitted together while trying to meet her gaze.
She pursed her lips and said nothing in return. Shame taking over, her eyes focused on anything else but his face.
“A word from you and I’ll never speak about tonight. A joke is not worth it, if it causes you pain. You can expect nothing but understanding from me. Like I said before, I truly believe you deserve kindness, hayatım[1], and not more criticism.”
Her eyes flicked from her folded hands to his eyes, his expression changing from one of concern to a more relaxed one while he reminisced about the night before.
“Last night, you have laughed, joked and been the most open around a group of people since I met you. You looked happy, truly happy. Relaxed. And that wasn’t just the alcohol. You were in a safe place and let your guard down. I agree drinking this much isn’t good for you... But why shaming yourself? Why not learning from it instead? You can’t change anything that happened, but you can make different choices in the future, if you desire, no? And if you don’t, I’ll hold your hair up again.”
There was so much empathy in his tone that if she wasn’t so dehydrated, her eyes would be watering. She mouthed a soundless thank you and he inched closer.
Standing behind her, he gently squeezed her shoulders, and they looked at each other’s reflections in the mirror.
Instead of the pink plaid PJs, she was sporting a long sleeved green one with no buttons, and she wondered if Hamid was the one who changed it.
As if reading her mind, he said softly, “Annabelle changed your clothes, after we cleaned you up.”
“I must thank her later.”
That was the first time she truly looked at herself.
The reflection looking back at her was pale, her usual tan had completely vanished these past months; smudged eyeliner and dark stains of mascara accentuated the dark circles under her reddened eyes, which seemed smaller due to the puffy eyelids. She looked spent. The entangled hair had been pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, and a few shorter curls had escaped the imposed restraint, sticking out close to her ears and neck. All in all, she was a complete mess while Hamid looked unfairly handsome with slightly flattened bed hair, the shadow of a beard and a big smile that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle; somehow, despite the vomiting, and deprivation of sleep she imposed him, there was so much adoration in his eyes that even in her current state was impossible to miss.
“Hamid, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you here?”
“Why are we all here, Liz? Isn’t that the fundamental Philosophical question?”
“Silly,” she chided, and his chuckle was so very close to her ear when he leaned forward that raised all the hair in her body and fogged her brain for a while.
“You know what I mean! You could be sleeping tight in your bed right now... instead, you spent the night taking care of my dumb drunk arse... when you had no obligation to.”
“I like your cute dumb drunk arse...” He winked, and she rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I! I’m a fan.”
Chuckling, Hamid hugged her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Someone needed to hold your hair, and let’s say I know what it feels to be so utterly sloshed and not having anyone to look after me.”
“You do?”
He hummed. His breath fanned the bare skin of her neck.
“But I won’t bother you with such an inane story. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I wouldn’t mind listening to it...”
His lips twitched, possibly surprised by the request, and he looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, the way she hid a yawn against a palm, but still tried to keep her eyes focused on him.
“Maybe some other time...” he replied while gently turning her around, but keeping her in the circle of his embrace, “You look about ready to fall asleep in my arms... not that I’d ever complain about that….” He winked at her, very flirty, in that Hamid-like fashion that makes her knees weak, and even though it wasn't far from the truth, she recognized the diversion right there in his words.
“I like a good bedtime story...” she said softly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze over her shoulder, “And your voice...” She might’ve learned a thing or two about charming someone with him.
“Then how could I not humour you?”
Smiling, Hamid helped her sit on the bed and pulled the covers over her legs, and she remained sitting, looking expectantly.
In the dimly lit room, Hamid sat in front of her, legs crossed, took a deep breath and broke the silence.
“I only got really sloshed a handful of times... My sisters took care of me, helped me hide it from my parents... But one time, it happened during a trip with friends... We went to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate my 19th birthday. Most of my memories are fogged... You must have seen what happens to six lads with loads of cash partying at Amsterdam...”
“I actually never been there...”
“Haven’t you? I must take you there. It's lovely in the spring.”
His fingers reached her hand, and his thumb was very distractingly caressing the back of her hand, following the paths of green veins till her wrist and back. Another distraction, she realized. Caressing the back of his hand with her free hand in return, she asked, “What happened to you?”
He hummed, and she suspected he was carefully choosing the words to continue.
“Everything went brilliant until the night before our flight... We went clubbing and met these girls, very friendly, seniors at uni, gorgeous… and had us wrapped around their fingers.” He chuckled. “We followed them like puppies to another club and to another... By the time we got to the third one, I was so wasted, I could barely stand on my own, but I didn’t want to admit it and go back to the hotel... So, my friend Lewis stayed with me, but while he was away hitting on one of the girls or whatever… I don’t know… I guess I accepted a pill that was definitely not aspirin…”
“Someone drugged you?” her voice shrieked, piercing her own brain, and she looked at his face over her shoulder, and he clicked his tongue.
“Nobody was sober at that point, and I probably said I was cool with it...” Hamid paused at her concerned expression and tried to explain, “The day before, I tried space cake and smoked a little hashishe... anyway... It was a harmless experience. We laughed for hours sitting at the grass...”
“But you were already drunk! You couldn’t consent!” Elizabeth snapped, head racing with all the legal issues this story poses. This was the sort of thing she worried about whenever going our to clubs and parties and one of the reasons she was vigilant with her and her friends’ drinks, and to hear something like that happened to Hamid not in theory made her chest tight, even though he sounded so nonchalant about it.
Hamid’s shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let out a deep breath; the smile faltered a little and his expression transformed entirely.
Was he regretting telling me?
“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m doing it again...”
“It’s alright.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Maybe I should stop, so you can sleep.”
She shook her head, widening her eyes to fight the sleep.
“I woke up at the hospital. Someone had found me lying on a bench at Oosterpark and called emergency. I had no documents, no coat, and no shoes... It was winter. My clothes were drenched from the rain…”
“Wow... that's... you could have died...” Elizabeth pointed out the obvious, and instantly regretted it.
“Trust me, I know. The doctor gave me a long and detailed speech about hypothermia. And drugs. And unprotected sex, even though I don’t remember even kissing anybody… They poked me with needles, ran tests and gave me some pills just in case…”
“Dude…” Elizabeth muttered but stopped before any of the concerns bubbling in her brain escaped again.
He looked expectantly, but she didn’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to shut down that voice in her mind whispering judgmental and useless advice about something that happenend to him years ago, and listened to her heart. Pushing the covers aside, she moved on the bed and sat on the balls of her feet right in front of him.
“I – I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said softly and genuinely, and his expression eased when no chiding came out of her mouth.
“I’m not,” he said, and the smile was back on his face. “Almost dying in such a stupid way had positive outcomes.”
She gaped. “How can you see a bright side in this story, Hamid?”
“There is always a silver lining,” he said with a familiar cheerful tone, but still soft enough not to bring her discomfort. “First, I realized I didn’t like drinking that much or getting hungover… I dance better, and my jokes are funnier when I’m sober. And from that day on, I’m an advocate of remembering the things I do and not losing my passport. So, I decided not to drink. Unless it is raki with babam and dedem[2]. Second, I don’t know if I’ll live a short or long life; but I can choose how to live my best life, with no regrets, appreciating the beauties, welcoming the joys... and obviously, adrenaline rushing through my veins fuels me!” He looked pointedly at her, and she remembered the incident with the horse.
“Not with disregard to my safety,” he let out the words with a chuckle, holding her hands in his. “And, when my time comes, hopefully it won’t be blacked out drunk in a park bench...”
She held his hands tighter, as if possible to shield him from such a fate with sheer will.
“I hope your learning process included finding a better group of friends,” she mumbled, and he chuckled.
“Don’t be so hard, güzelim[3]. They are good people. At the time, we were too young and sheltered… mortality was not part of our vocabulary.”
How incredible it must be to be so careless and not have this sort of concern!
That was never the case for her.
Death and sickness have been her companions in life for so long that her identity is linked to those grim subjects. In the past five years, no decision in her life has been made without considering either of them. Letting out a long and loud sigh, she pondered how different they were in so many more ways than she first assumed.
“Gosh, if it were me… I’d…” she trailed off, and he jumped in to complete her sentence, “You wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Lowering her gaze, but unable to control the blush that bloomed in her cheeks, she admitted he was right and that she wouldn’t leave him alone.
“However,” she added, “I was going to say that if I were you, I’d never want to see those people again! How could they leave you like that? What sort of friend does that?” Her indignation transpired in her tone and disgusted face.
“I don’t blame them. It wasn’t their responsibility to take care of me... I’m responsible for my choices, good or bad.”
Meeting his eyes, there was no shame in them, on the contrary, Hamid’s countenance expressed relief. Noticing the attentive gaze studying him, he smiled.
“I never spoke about any of this; not even to my sisters.”
“Why not?”
“They would gang up on me, obviously… and everything turned out alright. My friend Burak found my coat at the club, my passport and mobile were in the pocket... A happy ending.”
She watched his face and the wide and bright smile directed at her.
“You didn’t need to tell me either, so, why did you?”
“There’s a simple explanation for that,” he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are very special to me, Elizabeth Foredale, and I want you to know me. The real me. Isn’t this what people do? To get to know each other?”
Even in the low light, his eyes were shining. His gaze could be described with many words, none of which was a synonym for friendly.
Touched by his words and without giving herself time to change her mind, Elizabeth’s hand cradled his jaw, and her lips touched his dimpled cheek in a gentle but lingering kiss.
After a fraction of a second to overcome the surprise, Hamid revelled on it, letting his eyes flutter closed to fully appreciate the gentleness of her touch, and his lips stretched into a wide grin.
It was nothing like the fleeting air kisses they often share.
Before she considered ending the kiss, his hand covered hers, keeping it in place.
The alchool had drained her body, but right now every nerve was suddenly alight by his presence, by the warm touch of his hand on top of hers.
His eyes fluttered open to meet hers in a sidelong glance. They knew. They had crossed the line. They were no longer in friends’ territory. And, for the first time, she let herself want more, ignoring the boundary she herself tried to place between them.
She got greedy.
When her lips slowly but steadily glided over the roughness of the slight growth of beard of his unshaved face to the turned corner of his smile, Hamid let out a soft exhale through his nose. The warmth of the air travelled over the skin of her hand and wrist inflaming her entirely, and her heartbeats sped up.
Taking a deep breath, her lungs were filled with Hamid's fancy perfume. It was intoxicating in an unexpected way: it quietened the entire world. Actually it quietened her mind. For once, her brain was entirely focused on this moment and all the overwhelming feelings Hamid stirred on her.
Any hesitancy slipped away at the sight of his tongue moistening his lips. And that was the last thing her eyes registered. Her brain could no longer focus on anything that was not Hamid's lips smoothly moving over hers.
His lips were very soft, incredibly so against her own. They brushed against hers for a brief quiet moment, but it was enough to irradiate a heat, an electricity throughtout her body. It was like a dam breaking, and she was flooded with so much want. The second time her lips brushed against his, she was certain this wasn't like any kiss she had before.
She pulled away enough to gaze into his eyes, the corners crinkled by an adoringly smile; even such a diminute distance seemed unbearable to Hamid, and his hand cupped her cheek to close the distance between their mouths almost entirely.
The tip of his long curved nose brushed against the tip of hers, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said her name in awe, even with her eyes closed. His thumb brushed her lips, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
In her mind, Elizabeth envisioned more than once where and when their first kiss could happen. It always envolved a perfect romantic scenario, careful planning, fancy dinners and Hamid probably literally sweeping her off her feet. However, the reality was unplanned, and her brain might have short-circuited at some point... There's not even a carefully selected soundtrack playing in the background, just the sounds of their breathing and the pitter-patter of rain.
Yet, nothing could be more perfect than the way his lips welcomed hers. Her fantasies couldn’t compete with the reality of the tenderness of every gesture of his, the pressure of his lips, the light touch of his tongue over her lower lip, or the hand cupping her cheek so very gently.
When Elizabeth pulled back, his nose nuzzled her jaw and down her neck, and she gasped. The sound pleased Hamid, who hummed against her jaw and captured her lips one last time.
Her eyes met his briefly, but she quickly lowered her face, overcame by embarrassment and doubts of what to do or say.
The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, and he whispered, “I could kiss you forever, Liz.”
When her eyes raised to meet his, Hamid was already staring at her. His gaze could be described with many words, none amongst them was a synonym for friendly, and she rolled her lips inside her mouth.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?”
She shook her head, and took a deep calming breath.
“You make me feel many things,” -- happy, giddy, confused, excited... and several other she'd be mortified to admit even to herself... -- “’Uncomfortable’ is not one of them.”
His lips split into the widest grin she’s ever seen, before he swallowed and asked in a low and husky voice, “Care to tell me how I make you feel now?”
“Right now?” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she focused on the feeling of being in his arms earlier. Except for her dear father, she can’t remember feeling safer around a man nor willing to spend a lifetime in an embrace. “Happy. Safe.”
“I am glad you do. I want you to trust me.”
She met his stare again, and he was flashing a broad unabashed smile. They didn’t move an inch, staring into each other's eyes. Was she even breathing? She couldn’t be certain she was.
“Aren’t you curious about how you make me feel?”
His question startled her. Of course, she wanted to know that, but how could she speak over the thunderous beating of her heart and risking dozens of butterflies flying away if she opened her mouth, like in the Brazilian soap operas with magical realism she used to watch with her mother as a kid. She pursed her lips and nodded, which was enough for him to carry on.
“You also make me feel many emotions, Liz. The most frequent is happiness. A complete, perfect and unwavering bliss whenever I am around you. And even when we’re not together… My days are more vibrant since you are in my life…”
“Even after tonight?”
“Why would tonight change anything?”
“Aren’t you even a little upset? Tired?”
“Tired?” He clicked his tongue. Leaning impossibly closer, he whispered into her ear, “Inşallah[4], someday you’ll see how long I can keep going without any sleep...” When Elizabeth shivered, the pleased smirk in his lips indicated that was the intended effect, and he rubbed his hands against her arms. “However, you, my dear, seriously need to rest.”
“Actually, father wanted to have breakfast with me and after brunch I promised to go with Annabelle and Briar to this spa at Moorfield and –”
“As much as I believe you to be an overachiever, you need to rest, Liz,” he cut off the flood of words. “Besides, the last Annabelle checked on you was around 4am... So, trust me on this, go back to bed, we won’t see any of them before lunch. And message your father, tell him you have a minor headache and will be staying in your room until you feel better…”
Elizabeth listened to his reasoning and bit one thumbnail. Judging by the way she looked, no amount of coffee would keep her functional long enough to perform any social activity. Finally, she gave in to the irresistible call of the bed.
Hamid went to the en-suite, while she typed the message to her father, ignoring the stinging feeling in her stomach, that could be guilty from skipping breakfast with him or due to the hole the alcohol probably burnt there. But Hamid was right, it was past the time to prioritize her needs, even if it meant disappointing others.
After texting her friends, she was about to go through the several notifications in the screen, when the en-suite door opened and closed. Hamid’s silhouette strolling toward the soft light of the bedroom was all broad shoulders and strong arms. Over the screen of the mobile, her gaze fixed at him, admiring his confident swagger towards her.
The blue light from the screen denounced her attempt of appreciating the sight inconspicuously, and Hamid grinned at the attention but for once chose to say nothing about it.
When he turned around to settle the medicines and a glass of water over the nightstand, Elizabeth admired his taut muscles, and noticed the dimples on his lower back right above the waist band of his jeans. Her fingers craved to map every inch of his uncovered skin, and the thought alone sent a flow of heat all over her body. She forced her eyes back to the screen and turned the airplane mode on before putting the mobile away.
Leaning forward, he touched the side of her face gently and kissed the top of her head.
“I think you’re all set,” he whispered against her hair, “I’ll let you sleep now.”
“You’re leaving?” her tone didn’t conceal the surprise and disappointment.
“Don’t you want me to go?”
“I-I wouldn’t mind… If you wanted to... stay... it’s a big bed…” She fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, without raising her gaze to meet his, and couldn't find the right words to speak, and stuttered the ones she found, even if they didn't make sense, “It doesn’t... mean that we... anything... I guess... but you don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.”
“I understand," he said, smiling to himself. "If I stay, do we get to cuddle like before?”
She swallowed and couldn’t prevent the smile from curling her lips whem she nodded.
Without another word, he sat on the bed.
She moved aside to give him space, and went under the covers, lying on her back. The fragrance of his perfume on the pillows was inebriating.
When the mattress shifted with his weight, she took a deep breath. The lights were dimmed to their softest glow and a moment later, Hamid was lying beside her on his back, stirring the flutter of thousands of butterflies in her stomach.
He stretched one arm, adjusted the pillow over it, and, with a nod of his head, invited her to rest her head.
Elizabeth obliged, moving closer and let her head rest in the pillow. Hamid's arm encircled her waist, he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, “Sleep tight, Liz!”
Her answer was an almost inaudible “You too, Hamid.”
In Hamid's embrace, Morpheus visited Elizabeth unsurprisingly fast, not giving her any time for second guessing her decisions.
A familiar melody invaded his dreamless sleep and Edmund stirred in the bed, failing to recognize his whereabouts.
The mattress shifted when the woman sleeping beside him turned around, facing the other way. Flashes from their conversation and kisses invaded his mind, but were soon chased away by the persistent melody getting louder.
His hand patted his pants first, and then the space between them until he found the mobile that slipped from his pocket.
It was dark and he could barely open his sleepy eyes, but he would recognize the caller’s picture anywhere.
His gaze flicked to the black hair sprawled over the duvet, and he jumped out of the bed, instinctively shying away from the incriminating scene. Moving closer to the wall, he coughed twice, clearing his throat, before accepting the call, and prayed for silence.
“Hello, mother,” he spoke in the lowest but clearest tone possible trying not to wake the woman in bed.
“Let me talk to Theresa,” the woman barked the order, forgetting any rule of politeness – not that she reserved that kind of curtesy to her eldest son, especially not after he became the only one.
“She’s currently not...” Edmund stuttered and considered what to answer. “We’re not together... at the moment. I was sleeping.”
“She’s not with you!” The woman muttered something under her breath he could only assume were not compliments about his fiancée’s competence to follow orders. “Find her. And have her call me. Immediately.”
“Alright, mother. I’ll let her know you –”
Before he could finish the sentence, the call ended.
The conscience of where he was standing and with whom and the possibility of a scandal was enough to force out of his body any sleep. A last longingly gaze focused on the woman sleeping before he cautiously sneaked out of the bedroom. This was just the beginning.
Notes:
[1] Hayatım – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my life” or “my dear or darling” in this context.
[2] Babam and dedem – Turkish – father and grandfather.
[3] Güzelim – Turkish – mean “my beautiful”.
[4] Inşallah – In Turkish, the word inşallah or inşaallah means "If God wishes and grants"
#desire & decorum au#prince hamid x oc#desire and decorum#prince hamid#briar daly#edmund marlcaster#choices fanfic#choicesprompts#flufftober 2024#tw: alcohol#tw: drugs
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Fantasy Writing Prompts
↳ a masterpost for fantasy writing prompts
↳ (#) is from my collection of random prompts, (list) contains multiple prompts.
If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.
I also have a Patreon! Become a member to gain access to a Member's Only Community where you can chat and message other members and myself. Also gain access to my personal writing, which includes completed short stories, chapters from novels in progress, as well as completed scenes.
Royalty/Medieval Prompts:
The Merchant (#21)
You Had One Order - Prince and Knight (#71)
Princess x Guard (list)
Princess x Knight (list)
The Handmaiden in the Maze (#102)
Royal Painter x Knight (list)
Prince x Prince (list)
Thief x Princess (list)
Whispers of Treachery (#184)
Royal Coup D'etat (list)
Prince x Princess (list)
Assassin x Prince (list)
Non-Human Character Angst Prompts:
No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 1 (list)
No-Longer Human Character Reuniting with Friends and Family Part 2 (list)
No-Longer Human Character Regretting What They've Become (list)
Non-Human Character Revealing Themselves (list)
Doctor Finding an Injured Non-Human Character (list)
Betrayed Your Kind (#123)
Quiet Monster x Human (list)
Alien x Human on Opposite Sides of War (list)
Vampire Prompts:
Fangs (#47)
The Vampire and the Girl on Floor 3 (#110)
Werewolf Prompts:
Remnants of Humanity (#169)
I Know You're Still in There (#177)
Mermaid / Siren Prompts:
How to Write Mermaids
Get in the Water (#151)
Phantom of the Deep (#160)
Lungs Filled with Salt (#174)
Pirate Prompts (list)
Gods, Angels, Demons, & Deities Prompts:
Nothing to Do with Fate (#9)
Fallen Angel Dialogue (list)
Fallen Angel and Fallen God (list)
Apotheosis (#112)
Asking for Favors (#137)
Favor From an Old God (#157)
The Gods of August (#173)
Shapeshifter Prompts:
Anything You Want Me to Be (#91)
Shapeshifter x Human (list)
Witch Prompts:
Witch x Fairy (list)
Angry in the Tavern (#158)
Guardian of the Old Ways (#161)
Fantasy Character Description Prompts:
How to Describe a Character with Wings
How to Describe a Character with Bug Wings
The Dream Walker (#140)
Modern Fantasy Prompts:
The Bartender (#23)
Turning to Stone (#105)
Mind Reader on Campus (#134)
Pockets Filled with Shadows (#141)
The Brain Implant (#148)
The Boy in the Library (#162)
Ghost Revealing Themselves to a Mortal (list)
Magical Object Prompts:
Blank Pages (#85)
The Door to Other Places (#139)
The House's Memory (#183)
Math and Science in Magical Battle Scenarios (list)
Fantasy Setting Prompts:
The Town Engulfed by Flames (#67)
Zombie Apocalypse AU (list)
Music in The Dark Wood (#138)
The Sun Stopped Setting (#164)
The Portal to Realms Unknown (#168)
The Astronomer in the Coastal Village (#179)
Two Dystopian Criminals (list)
Fantasy Worldbuilding:
Currency and Time Measurement Ideas (list)
Ideas for Earning Money in a Fantasy World (list)
Problems that May Occur in a Dystopian/Apocalyptic World (list)
Pirate Ship Name Ideas
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Main masterlist 8
Staring at them in admiration
Critical Role 🎲
Vox machina - dancing with Percy / truth or dare? // the party with vampire!reader // but why me? // Vax and his fighting “buddy” // hand kisses // feeling “flirtatious” // love you?? // love me as a wyrm // Bloodborne!reader // the boys + dentist appointment // I love you 🥺 & I love you too 😄💕 // the love letter 💌 // Vax + writing prompt //
PercyxVex week 🩵🤍💙 - ao3 series
modern s/o series, canon/AU - Percy 💙 + others //
Mighty nein - modern AU //
Mollymauk Week - ao3 series
Bells 🔔 hells/Crown 👑 keepers - orym and his crush // Ashton x reader who likes pink things // spin the bottle //
Song fics (all fandoms) - keyleth song fic // BR batch 3 // songs for boys 1 // grog song fic //
Castlevania 🦇- Dracula with a colomba!reader // but why me? // hand kisses // facing BBG + CR // Dracula drabbles // Castlevania “I love you” prompt // Trevor + jealousy // Dracula and his love //
Marvel - boxer!Miguel // ares x Aphrodite // incorrect quotes // magician ✨friend // single dad!Miguel // incorrect quotes: swoon // incorrect quotes 3 //
Monster lover(s) 💕😈🥺 - hand holding prompt //
The dragon prince - aaravos x monarch!reader // aaravos + reincarnation //
Baldur’s Gate 3 - I really like the vamp // be nice to him ☹️ // I like Gale and 🦇 a lot // Astarion angst // incorrect quotes // astarion fluff // Gale + Wyll + Halsin fluff // Shadowheart and Karlach fluff // poly headcanons // romance novel // incorrect quotes // Gale + prompt // Astarion + prompt // Blood Lycan Tav // sun and moon + Astarion //
Blood of Zeus ⚡️- Hermes with grumpy!reader // Apollo x god!spouse of different pantheon //
Assassin’s Creed - July codexmonthly “Eden” // arno birthday headcanons // August codexmonthly // shay birthday headcanons // belated birthday headcanons // Haytham + angst headcanons // he needs a good cry // but why me? // smutty 🔥 Haytham // pregnant headcanons // snowed ❄️ in // sleep seggs // oc daughter // at the ball // learning languages // drunk Haytham // sleep seggs part 2 // hand kisses // Ezio drunk 🫠🥴 // September codexmonthly // Haytham proposal 💍 + wedding night // haytham sloppy toppy // assassins and “I love you” prompt // soft Haytham // more assassins fluff // Haytham + Ziio & reader // Frye birthday 🎉 headcanons // dullahan shay and vampire Haytham // boyfriend headcanons // November codexmonthly // Haytham smut
Codextober 2023 // ao3
Dragon 🐉 Age - why I like mages // Cullen + writing prompts //
Genshin Impact - I like the new guy 🩵🤍💙 // hand kisses + Miguel //
Star 🌟 Wars - touch starved + others // Ezra bridger //
The Last of Us - Joel + kisses //
#critical role#castlevania#Assassin’s Creed#marvel#dragon age#star wars#vox machina#the mighty nein#bell's hells#my writing#spiderman: across the spiderverse#astv#miguel o’hara#spiderman 2099#istv#baldurs gate iii#baldurs gate 3#the dragon prince#tdp#exophilia#genshin impact#the last of us#blood of zeus#monster x reader#perchalia week 2023#crown keepers#joel miller x reader
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↬・🍑 upcoming and requests *:
fics highlighted in orange are close to completion; other fics are upcoming stories.
on going series:
"don't fear the reaper" - story 1 {gojo x reader} - sideblog
"the way you love me" - {gojo x reader chpt. 31}
"the way you claim me" - {sukuna x reader pt. 4}
"the way you want me" - {choso x reader pt. 2}
"the way you kiss me" - {ex husband nanami x reader pt. 8}
minis:
entangle story #2 {gojo x persephone!reader x geto}
one shots:
“embers” - {vash x reader}
“untitled” - {prince gojo x tavern girl reader}
"untitled" - {assassin choso x reader}
“taking a nap” - {perv best friend gojo x reader}
"dirty little secret" - {older brother choso x yuji's best friend reader}
requests:
nanami x reader (kiss prompt request)
shoko x reader (smut)
requests open for ex husband nanami series / dad gojo prompts.
recent updates ⋆。°✩
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Nightly Love
Stanley Uris x Male Reader
Prompt - Assassin Au
Stan fiddled with his ring as he looked down upon the gardens. It was night and Stan was already dressed for bed. But he couldn’t sleep. Despite the fire raging, keeping the room warm. And the new silk sheets that the servants placed there this morning, Stan couldn’t sleep. Stan didn’t know why he couldn’t sleep.
Nothing had happened and nothing was going to happen. Stan had nothing to worry about. For fucks sake he was the prince. He didn’t have to do anything. By the snap of his fingers and the sound of his voice, whatever needed doing was done. So why did Stan feel empty. Like something was missing.
Stan felt like this a lot. Ever since the reality of being the prince hit him. Stan didn’t want this. He didn’t want to rule over a kingdom. He didn’t want to marry someone because his father said so, because the world said so. Stan wanted to marry someone because he loved them.
Stan never loved any of the women his father brought in. One because they are women, Stan didn’t even like girls. Two because they were just a copy of the last girl. They just wanted to be with Stan because Stan was a prince and had a lot of money. But Stan had found someone that loved him for him.
Because he was Stan. Not because of his crown. But Stan couldn’t marry him. But Stan loved him. And wasn’t that enough? Not to his father. Stan sighed as he turned around to enter the castle. But before he entered through the doors that led to his room. Stan heard a thud from behind him.
Stan had a small smile on his face as he turned around. There stood Y/n as he pulled off the cloth that covered his lower face and lowered his hood. “Hey darling” Y/n whispered as he walked closer to Stan. The reason Y/n had a cloth covering his face and was dressed in all black was because he was an assassin. He was hired to take out the King.
But plans changed when he fell in love with his son. Stan was cautious at first. Dating an assassin isn’t the smartest thing to do. But Y/n proved himself to be loyal to Stan. That he loved Stan. So now they were dating. Y/n would show up to the castle to see Stan.
Stan wishes that Y/n didn’t have to show up under the cover of the dark. But if anyone saw them. Bad stuff would happen. “Hey Y/n” Stan said as he walked up to Y/n and kissed him. Y/n kissed back as he pulled Stan closer to him by the waist. Stan pulled away from the kiss and put his head on Y/n’s shoulder.
Y/n reached up and started playing with Stan’s curls. “You okay?” Y/n asked. Stan nodded. Stan didn’t want to burden Y/n with his problems. Y/n nodded. Y/n knew Stan was lying. But he didn’t push Stan to tell him.
Stan didn’t feel like telling him. Stan would tell him later, or Y/n would ask later. Both boys stood there. In each other's arms for what felt like years. Completely silent. Both boys absorbing the other's presence. Wishing that they could do this forever.
But after a couple minutes there was a noise outside of Stan’s room. Both boys looked over at the door and Stan sighed. “Bye Y/n” Stan whispered as Y/n put the cloth back on. “Bye Love” Y/n said back before he jumped over the railing.
Stan looked over the railing to see Y/n running off as he pulled his hood up. Stan smiled to himself as he walked into his room and shut the door. Stan then got under the covers of his bed and closed his eyes.
This time he fell asleep with no problem.
#lgbtq#it 2017#it x reader#it book#it 2017 x male reader#it#stanley uris x reader#stanley uris x male reader#stanley uris#stan uris#stan uris x reader#the losers x male reader#the losers x reader#the losers fanfiction#the losers club
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omg same anon here that requested the model soobin + designer reader that was so good aoaajddkjjjs&#@*kdj thank you ☆_☆
also i feel like i might have sent a similar ask to the following (maybe tumblr ate it) but if no one yet has straight up asked for taehyun fandancer au then plz taehyun fandancer au. and/or any other txt members in the same au if you want (no pressure to again though it's ok !!!)
I am so late...it's fine it's fine it's fine LMAO anyway idk if anyone is still looking for their drabbles from the summertime fest, but I'm trying to do them now - hope y'all enjoy :)
this is an excerpt from a fic idea I'm trying to flesh out; it might be a little confusing but here's the gist - fan dancer mc is trying to hide soobin, the missing crown prince, from those who want to kill him, and in the meantime taehyun is trying to court them and mc desperately wants to say yes but can't because caring for soobin is first priority (they promised a friend). horrible dilemmas I feel for mc so bad (I want taehyun too </3)
summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!
REQUESTS CLOSED!
~
Title: In the Eyes of the Night
Pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 2.1k
Genre: slight angst, fan dancer!mc and nobility!Taehyun
Warnings: mentions of blood
~
Once backstage you nearly fall onto one of the benches behind the gauzy curtains that frame the dais, dropping your fans and gingerly taking off first your shoes, then the wrappings around your feet. They come away sweaty and smelly, which is only to be expected, but a pained hiss escapes your lips as you peel cloth off the blisters that burst during your time on the stage, leaving stains of yellow and red on the fabric.
Your stomach drops. It's not as if you had expected anything less, not after what happened last night, but seeing the mess of blood and pus in the light somehow makes it all worse.
"Need some help?" Juyeon's deep voice sounds overhead. You meet his concerned smile with a wry grimace of your own. "Don't worry about me," you reply, already grabbing one of the clean towels nearby. "Your performance is next, right? You should go prepare. I'll be fine."
His eyes flicker over to the clock on the wall and a grimace of his own passes over his lips as he registers how little time he has left. "I'll send someone with water," he promises. "Clean your feet properly."
"Thanks, Juyeon. I'll be fine," you reassure him, even as the stinging pain threatens to bring tears to your eyes. "It's just a few blisters."
Juyeon disappears into the gauzy curtains, and you take the moment alone to stretch your feet onto the bench. Stars above, your legs ache something awful. Normally you would just attribute this to the endless cycle of performance and practice, but all that running around yesterday took everything out of you. The adrenaline of the chase, the fear that you would be caught, captured - or even worse, that the prince you were hiding would be seen -
Not for the first time, you curse your friend in the shadows for saddling you with the responsibility of a missing prince. How do you hide a prince in your own tiny room? How do you keep him out of sight but still get him food, get him water, get him the basic things he needs to survive? She didn't tell you anything when she dumped him on you, didn't tell you anything except that he was the prince who the royal family had declared missing and that you needed to hide him or else people would kill him.
You're not an assassin. You're nothing special, not like she is. You can't use a knife. You can't wield a sword. You're just a fan dancer and nothing else and the responsibility of a prince is going to kill you, if it doesn't kill him first.
Ugh. You rest a hand on your heart, forcing deep breaths. "Everything is fine," you mutter to yourself, as though saying it aloud will make it true. It is true, in a way. Your prince wasn't seen last night, for all the danger you were in. He wasn't captured. He wasn't killed. You were able to distract those who would hunt him, even if your bare feet and legs took more cuts than you were used to on the sharp stones outside. Even if it took all of your remaining energy not to collapse in a heap of silk and fans onstage.
Gahyeon comes running over with a small basin of cold water. You thank her, brush her away when she offers to help, and begin cleaning up the mess of blood on your stinking feet. As soon as it's all cleared away and you've wrapped the open sores in clean bandages, you force yourself to stand and limp to your room. With every step, pain hisses up your legs, but you make it there in the end.
You tap the door slightly, knocking once, twice, three times in a pattern to announce your presence. When a few knocks sound in return, you slide it open and step inside, closing it quickly behind you.
Soobin sits in the corner of the room, looking small and hunched over for all his height. His eyes are dull, despondent. "Hello," he mumbles.
All of your previous curses about the responsibility of a prince melt away, replaced by pity in the face of the crown prince's misery. "Hello, Your Highness," you murmur respectfully. "Are you well?"
"I'm fine," he replies quickly, which is how you know he isn't. "Are your feet alright?"
"Just a few cuts and blisters." You smile a little, trudging over to the small mirror set on one of the walls. "I'll survive."
"...I'm so sorry."
"There is no need to be," you respond firmly, turning around from touching up your makeup. "You are my prince and I swore an oath to our friend in the shadows to keep you safe. If I have to bear some pain in my feet for it, no matter. I'm a dancer, anyway." You smile at him. "I'm used to it."
He doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't try to apologize again, so you count that as a win. "You said someone helped you last night," he says, changing the subject.
Your eyebrows furrow. "Yes," you reply lowly, unwanted memories rushing back of shadows and snarls and blades flashing in the moonlight - and above all, one familiar voice shouting for you to run as his sword slashed down, starlight shimmering on the metal.
Your heart skips a beat. Taehyun Kang. In the moment, when you couldn't breathe and couldn't think, you couldn't believe it was him. But you've replayed those seconds over and over in your mind, and there's no question anymore. Taehyun of the family Kang, one of the middle nobility who frequents your performances and has been trying to court your interest for almost two months...
He saved you. And you can't even thank him, because he didn't see your face, and you can't reveal that that was you.
"Did you see who they were?" Soobin asks.
You wipe your fingers on a towel by the mirror, eyes carefully downcast. "No," you reply, and truth be told, you're not sure why you lie. Maybe because you want to keep this moment to yourself. Maybe because deep down, you aren't sure it was really him.
Maybe because you don't want to acknowledge how hard this makes everything, knowing that you owe Taehyun your life when all he professes to want is your love - and you can't even give him that, however you might want to, for fear that your duty to a missing prince will come to light and all your shadow friend's carefully-laid plans will be ruined.
"I must go now," you say, turning back around. A pair of soft slippers waits by your door and you slip them over your bandaged feet, wincing. You cast the missing prince a soft smile. "I'll be back later, with some food and water."
Soobin nods. He looks exhausted. "Thank you."
With a final smile, you slip out of the room and step lightly down the halls, forcing yourself not to limp the entire way.
. . .
Back in the crowded main hall, Jinyoung waves you over the second you step in his direction. "Can you take the section in the corner?" he asks, gesturing to an area close to the stage.
For the second damn time that evening, your heart skips a beat. Because before you even look over, you know who will be in that section. At least who will be taking one of the tables there.
Taehyun.
"Of course," you say anyway, because while Taehyun's stare may be unrelenting, he's never disrespectful - in fact, it's cute when his friends tease him for his never-ending stare and his cheeks tint with more blush than you can attribute to the alcohol. And you can't lie - you like seeing him. You like being around him. He makes you feel comfortable in a way few other men have, and even if he's been clear with his intentions, he's never forced you to make an answer to him, only greeted you with kindness and care.
Gods above, your heart aches to finally say yes to one of his offers - to buy you a drink, to take you for a meal, to walk with you on the shoreline under the night sky. How could you not, when those sparkling eyes shine at you with all the grace and care in the world? But you can't sacrifice your duty to a missing prince for even a few nights spent in Taehyun's arms - it's too dangerous, with your friend in the shadows gone. Until she returns, and who knows when that will be, you must stay put.
A wry smile curls your lips. Stars, it would be so much easier if he were less easy to fall for.
Someone hands you a tray of drinks, and you begin to make your way through the chaos. The first group that waves you over isn’t his. It’s a rowdy group of sailors who laugh a little too much and talk a little too loudly, but they’re harmless as they thank you for the several glasses of alcohol that you pour out on their table. The second group isn’t his either, nor the third, nor the fourth. Slowly, you wade through the chaos, flashing a pretty smile at everyone who deigns to meet your eye, filling orders as fast as you can until you find yourself near the stage.
The music is louder here, and it slowly thrums its way through your body, settling your heart. Beomgyu is dancing now and you allow your eyes to meet his once, an encouraging smile on your lips just before you turn to serve the table to your right. Then you turn to the left.
Taehyun's small group is a friendly sight to your eyes. Your smile grows a little as you pour out their usual drinks, laughing and bantering as they thank you. By the time you've reached Taehyun, who is on the other side of the table, you feel somewhat better.
"Good evening, my lord." You smile softly, taking in the empty glass before him. "Would you like your usual?"
"No, Y/N, I'll be fine for tonight." His voice, soft-spoken as always and so different from the commanding shout that rang through the air last night, fusing you with the energy and adrenaline to run. And all of a sudden you're back in that moment, under the dark sky, cornered, feet bleeding, breath sharp and fast with panic...
"Y/N?"
You force yourself to breathe. To come back to earth. You dig your foot into one of the floorboards and the pain that flares from one of the blisters forces you to focus. "I apologize," you say quietly, ignoring the strange look that Taehyun is giving you now. He can't know. He won't know -
"You're limping."
His words pierce through the fog of your thoughts, hitting your ears with a startling precision.
You’re limping.
You straighten immediately, ignoring how the pain in your feet flares when you do. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re limping,” he repeats, and one glance at him is all you need to know that you didn’t convince him at all. The dark eyes that stare at you with so much intensity fall down to the floor where your feet stand, hidden beneath your robes. When he looks back up, only gentle concern floats in his magnetic irises. “Are you all right?”
Something in his voice almost makes you tell the truth, that no, you aren’t quite fine, you probably shouldn’t have danced today but you had no choice when the only other option was to explain where all the sores in your feet came from - and for a moment, you almost feel tears well up in your eyes. What is it with him, this noble with eyes as intense as his voice can be gentle, this son of a lord who has never once taken his eyes from you but always manages to stare with a respectful distance, never once making you feel like something less than human?
Why is he so perfect, and why is it that for all he wants you, you can't have him?
But training kicks in, the easy, bland smile lifting the corners of your lips as your exchange begins to catch the attention of the rest of his friends. Just in time, really, though there is still a little ache in your chest when you nod. “I’m fine,” you say. “Thank you for your concern, my lord, but I assure you I’m all right.” You turn away from their table, then, making sure not to limp on your way.
No matter how much it kills your feet to do so.
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