#being crowned is a death sentence

[inkandarsenic]

[orcelito]

My favoritism is Obvious

Tfw I spent all the rest of my money buying bow upgrades for The Boy

In an entirely predictable move, I'm pretty sure he's my favorite

[chubby-bun-bun]

heavy is the crown

As princess, you are bound by duty to marry the notorious and elusive Onichynus general, in exchange for his protection of your kingdom from an impending war. On the night of your wedding, tradition demands that you undergo the consummation rites, sealing the fate of your marriage—and your future.

tags: sylus x reader, NSFW, MDNI, royalty!au, general-of-powerful-nation!sylus x princess-of-kingdom-in-trouble!reader, first time sex (mc is a virgin), unprotected sex, afab!reader, fem!reader, slight voyeurism & somno & cockwarming at the end, lowkey breeding kink, gender-based stereotypes against women due to the time period, writing this has been a fever dream, word count: 2.7k~ worldbuilding and 5.5k~ smut lmfao

read on ao3

You dared to dream once upon a time.

You dreamt of crossing oceans beyond your shores, sailing aboard majestic galleons you’d only seen in textbooks. In the quiet solitude of your bedchambers, you imagined laughing with the townsfolk of distant cities, dancing in cobblestone streets to the melodies of traveling minstrels, and finding love in a modest man who'd want nothing more than to offer you freshly picked blooms every morning.

In the sanctuary of sleep, your dreams would lull you with visions of a simple life. A stone-walled kitchen warmed by the glow of a crackling hearth, a garden vibrant with blossoms and fresh produce, and a cozy reading nook nestled in an arched window. A loyal companion would sometimes join you—a slothful cat, a melodious songbird, a high-spirited pup, or a darling mare to carry you through grassy plains and wildflower fields.

"Do you take this man to be your wedded husband, to share in life's trials and joys, to love and honor, till death do you part?"

But such dreams have no place in the heart of a woman whose shoulders bear her kingdom's fate.

And so, as you take in the muted glow of the setting sun through delicate ivory lace, you finally put those girlhood fantasies to rest.

“I do.”

—

Being the youngest and only princess came with its fair share of trials and triumphs.

Unlike the elder princes, whose lives revolved around grueling expectations and fierce competition for the throne, your position spared you such burdens. Born to a queen who had long believed her childbearing years were behind her, you were nothing short of a miracle, arriving over a decade after your last sibling. This had earned you the undivided affection of the entire castle, leaving you thoroughly indulged and doted upon.

However, growing up without siblings near your age, you often grappled with bouts of loneliness. While you had fostered polite acquaintances among the daughters of many nobles, you found their company wearisome. The endless succession of balls and garden parties always seemed to revolve around the same gossip: politics, fashion, whispers about some baron’s sixteen-year-old daughter betrothed to a forty-year-old viscount, and, of course, the inevitable question: had anyone received a marriage proposal yet?

You naturally had many—to your dismay.

The idea of marriage filled you with profound dread. As a girl tagging along in your mother’s tea parties, you had often overheard the confessions and lamentations of the noblewomen. Stories of infidelity, neglect, and abuse spilled from their lips—duchesses, marchionesses, and countesses; women who stood at the very summit of high society. To you, marriage seemed less a sacred bond and more a cruel sentence—one far grimmer than the gallows.

At least the gallows granted the mercy of a quick death.

But as a princess, you were bound to uphold the ideal image of a young lady. One who radiated beauty, yet with grace and poise. Intelligent, but subservient to your intended husband’s authority. And, most important of all, fertile—to bear him strong sons who would carry on his legacy.

It sickened you. You would rather succumb to the plague than endure such a miserable life. But given your title, you could only try to delay the inevitable.

And so, life continued as it was—a never-ending cycle of social gatherings, fending off suitors, reading through your library, mastering languages, and nurturing a growing collection of hobbies. It was a life of privilege and routine—one that, despite its predictability, offered you a quiet sense of fulfillment.

Alas, nothing holds constant in the world, and change arrived in the form of a looming war from enemies across the sea.

Though small in size, your kingdom of Noir was a veritable treasure trove. With its abundant mountains and rivers, the island was never in short supply of precious metals, gems, and rare minerals. It was renowned for producing the finest artisans, who crafted the most exquisite jewelry, armor, and weapons. While modest in territory, it more than compensated with a thriving and prosperous economy.

The ultimate conquest for any conqueror.

Through the town streets worn smooth by centuries of footfalls, the bustling plazas lined with charming merchant stalls, the outskirt villages tucked among lush woodlands, and even the weathered stone walls of the towering castle, whispers had always flowed like an unrelenting tide—the most persistent being rumors of the neighboring kingdoms readying to seize Noir at any moment. But your father never addressed such hearsays, and life within the island always seemed as jovial and peaceful as it always did.

Until one night, as you sat engrossed in some book about Noir folklore, a series of sharp knocks on your chamber doors shattered the stillness, echoing sharply through the room.

It was your father, the king. Dropped to his knees, grasping your untainted hands in his rough, weathered ones, head bowed down at your mercy.

“Forgive me, my daughter,” he said in grief. “For the sake of the people—please, forgive me.”

For months, naval scouts had reported sightings of warships at the docks of two neighboring kingdoms, suspected of plotting to raid Noir and usurp the throne. Only a few weeks ago, those suspicions were confirmed when spies returned with dire news. The enemy militaries, vast and far stronger than your own, were preparing for a siege. Noir's true power had always been in the arts and commerce, not in its military might. Should your shores be attacked by an enemy nation—let alone two—the island would fall.

So on the very day the confirmation arrived, your father and the high court conspired to seek assistance from a nation on the mainland: Onichynus.

Conversations about the state were always hushed, spoken in whispers and laden with caution. It was rumored to be an immensely powerful dominion, even surpassing that of the hostile forces looming beyond your shores. Drunk sailors boasted of its staggering wealth, built on the spoils of their wars and ceaseless conquest. With an unmatched army of hardened warriors and mercenaries, it stood as a force to be reckoned with, its presence both feared and revered across the seas.

At its pinnacle stood their elusive general, a shadow whose name and true face remained unknown. Tales from sailors, traveling merchants, and tavern songs painted him as a ruthless figure, demon-like, who laid waste to rotten cities and beheaded corrupt kings. Some claimed he was a hero, purging the realm of wicked men in power, while others saw him as the embodiment of evil, leaving destruction and death in his wake.

Negotiations with Onichynus were a success. In return for their protection during the impending siege, Noir pledged to deliver three ships laden with its most prized metals, minerals, and gems—every year for the next century.

But to ensure Noir upheld its end of the bargain, their beloved princess would be bound in marriage to the general.

You could only keep your gaze steady, chin held high, as the king knelt before you, weeping, begging for your forgiveness.

You had your time to relish the pleasures of living as a princess. Now, it was time to fulfill your duties as one.

—

The night before the long-anticipated siege had arrived. After weeks of frantic planning and tense negotiations between Noir’s high court and the Onichynus war council, warriors and mercenaries had taken their positions across the island. Some blended seamlessly with the civilians, while the majority remained hidden in plain sight, their numbers concentrated along the docks.

In the king’s throne room, select members from both factions gathered for final preparations. Clad in his battle regalia, your father seemed a shadow of his former self—skin ashened, eyes hollow with exhaustion—yet his voice remained firm as he issued his commands to all present.

The Noir court members could hardly conceal their unease under the watchful eyes of the Onichynus war council. Towering and broad-shouldered, they seemed almost otherworldly. Their dark, burnished steel armor bore engravings of monstrous creatures, and many donned cloaks of crimson or black, their edges deliberately singed to resemble fire's touch. Helmets, adorned with jagged horns, cast grotesque shadows, while those who forwent them revealed faces with jagged streaks of war paint, as if to mimic claw marks.

Then, the heavy doors groaned open, spilling thick tendrils of black-red mist into the chamber. A hush fell as all eyes turned toward the towering figure that emerged from the haze.

The general.

For all the whispered tales of his demonic appearance—horns as tall as claymores, wings that spanned the heavens, and a tail that stretched like a river—you were stunned to find a face not of a monster, but of an angel.

Against the backdrop of his dark cloak, his striking silver hair stood out in sharp contrast. His features were sculpted with precision—high, defined cheekbones, a strong jawline, a straight nose, all framed by an expression that revealed little, save for full lips drawn into a tight line. The people of Noir gawked openly, stunned to finally see the man from the tales in the flesh. His gait was languid yet exuded confidence as he strode toward the throne where you sat beside your father.

His gaze found yours, and you stilled.

The deep scarlet of his eyes was piercing. You almost felt naked under it. Instantly, you straightened in your seat, fingers twitching to smooth the fabric of your dress.

“Expect the warships to be visible in six hours,” he said, his voice cutting through the room. The low timbre of it sent a chill racing up your spine.

“General, are you certain our forces are enough to handle their fleet?” your mother asked, voice quivering as she addressed him from your father’s other side.

The general's lips curved faintly, a low, rumbling chuckle escaping him.

“Rest easy, Your Majesty. By dawn, their remains will have joined their forefathers’ ghosts beneath the sea."

—

You had come to realize that Onichynus truly deserved the fear and respect it commanded. Just before daybreak, the gut-wrenching blare of Noir’s watchtower horns finally shattered the unnerving stillness of the island.

The enemies had fallen.

You had been locked away in one of the castle’s tower chambers, away from harm’s reach. As the kingdom’s key to securing this alliance, it was critical that no harm befell the general's betrothed.

After the second wave of victory horns, your door creaked open, revealing your maidservant—frantic, breathless from the long climb up the spiral staircase.

“Your Highness,” she gasped, voice trembling. “We’ve won.”

You could see the restraint in the way her nails dug into her apron, her blown pupils amidst her ragged breaths. She was restraining herself, her elation held in check, out of deference to you.

After all, Noir’s freedom had come at the cost of yours.

With a wistful smile, you turned toward the window, watching the flickering torchlights snake through the streets below. The chorus of jubilant cries and chants carried through the valleys, their voices rising to the heavens and echoing back from the mountain’s deepest crevices.

“It seems we have,” you murmured, voice barely audible over the chorus of celebration below.

You heard her hesitant shuffle behind you. "Several of the servants have been briefed already. They shall be ready tomorrow morning to begin preparations for the wedding."

You spun toward her, pulse pounding in your ears. "So soon?"

She lowered her gaze, unable to meet your eyes. "Onichynus wanted to complete the rites as quickly as possible, so they could sail for the mainland the following day."

You let out a slow exhale. "I see."

Your maidservant hesitated, her eyes flicking toward you, before she spoke again.

"If it offers you any comfort, ma'am," she said softly, head bowed, "you saved all of us."

You swallowed hard, forcing back the sting of tears threatening to spill.

—

Like your mother, grandmother, and all the royal women before you, you had always envisioned your wedding as a day of grandeur. You pictured riding through the town streets in the royal carriage, flanked by guards, waving to the cheering crowds. You imagined wearing a bespoke gown that sparkled in the light, a train so long it would sweep behind you like a royal procession.

You imagined trumpets announcing your arrival, their triumphant notes echoing through a hall packed with dignitaries and nobility from across the realm. And at the altar, a man of honor and equal standing would wait for you, his gaze warm with affection as you joined in a union built on love, not duty.

But now—the sun has nearly set, painting the grand temple in muted amber light. Inside, the space feels hollow, adorned only by a few hurriedly arranged flowers, their disarray a testament to the servants' exhaustion from cleaning up the siege’s destruction. Your gown, though lovely, is no custom-made masterpiece—just a window display piece hastily altered by the royal dressmaker. The pews stand mostly empty, save for your crestfallen family, a handful of somber faces from the Noir high court, and the ever-stoic Onichynus war council.

Your husband-to-be, still clad in his dark battle regalia, stands steadfast at your side, his expression an impenetrable mask as the archbishop intones the ceremonial rites. You had imagined him to be someone hard to look at—perhaps as old as a grandfather, his years as a general etched into every line of his face, and his figure weighed down by indulgent vices. Yet, to your quiet relief, he is nothing of the sort. Even if he proves unsavory as a husband or father to your future children, at least he’s pleasing to look at.

“By the will of fate, you are now bound in union,” the High Priest finally says, raising his palms toward you both. “May your allegiance to one another be as steadfast as the duties you carry, and may this union bring the future of your realms to prosperity.”

—

You wince as an elderly maidservant struggles to loosen a particularly stubborn knot in your hair, the pull jerking your head painfully. She pauses, her hand gently patting the spot in apology.

Your gaze stays fixed on the cold, flatstone floor, and you hardly notice the other maidservants bustling around you. One smooths out the faint creases in your satin nightdress, while another tugs at the neckline, pulling it lower to expose more of your cleavage and collarbone. Beneath the thin fabric, your undergarments have been removed, leaving you vulnerable to the biting chill of the room. You’ve been scrubbed clean, coated in the silkiest lotions, each scent more intoxicating than the last—all for your first night with your new husband.

“Are you nervous, Your Highness?” the elderly maidservant asks, her hands gentle as she brushes through your hair.

You pause, the question settling in your chest as you ponder how to answer.

“I can’t say I’m confident,” you say, twisting your fingers together. “I’ve never been with a man before.”

In the mirror, you catch the discreet glances exchanged behind you, their pity and concern barely hidden. You force yourself to look away, but the weight of their silent judgment lingers.

“The Onichynus general… he seemed like such a massive man,” a younger maidservant whispers, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I do hope he treats Her Highness with kindness.”

Another maidservant scoffs, her tone sharp with bitterness. “All men are beasts, driven only by their lust for control—and for anything with a pair of breasts.”

There’s a collective hiss of disapproval from the others, but the harsh words still echo in your mind. You fight to keep your face composed, though your heart aches with fear.

“Don’t worry, Your Highness,” the elderly maidservant says, her voice light. “The men from that state may be known for their ruthlessness, but with your likeness, the general will surely find himself a changed man.”

You can only hope the same.

Soon after, you begin your walk to the matrimonial room. The maidservants fall in step around you, their presence a quiet shield.  The lively chatter from your earlier preparations has faded, replaced by a tense, almost somber silence. Despite the considerable distance between rooms, the walk feels too short, each step too swift. Before you can fully gather your bearings, you now find yourself alone, sitting on the bed, the weight of the night settling in around you.

You shouldn’t feel this nervous. Women across the realm are bound to face this, especially those of royal blood. Consummation on the wedding night is an expectation, a duty. No matter how much you’ve dreaded or tried to avoid it, you’ve always known it was inevitable. All that’s left now is to steel yourself, strive to please your husband, and to embrace your role as a future mother—for Noir’s sake.

The doors swing open, and you flinch. The general steps inside, his damp hair clinging to his face, a clear sign of a recent bath. His attire for the evening is simple: loose trousers and a tunic that, despite its modesty, does little to hide the breadth of his shoulders or the strong lines of his chest. Your gaze betrays you, lingering longer than it should, tracing the way the fabric shifts with his movements. His towering height seems to diminish even the vast expanse of the room, making the high ceilings feel incredibly small.

His ember-like eyes catch yours and you suddenly feel too exposed.

“Good evening, princess.” 

“General,” you greet, wincing at how weak it sounds as it leaves your lips.

His gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders beneath the delicate straps of your ivory nightdress, the soft swell of your breasts pressing gently against the neckline. The fabric cinches at your waist before flaring out around your hips, emphasized by the way you sit at the edge of the mattress. Your posture is rigid, hands clasped in your lap—a result of all the etiquette drilled into you from childhood.

He notices the tension in your form and lets out a sigh, turning toward the couch at the far end of the room.

You blink.

“Where are you going?” you blurt out, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your Highness,” he drawls, settling into the couch with a lazy grace. “We don’t have to do this. You look like a kitten with her hackles raised. We could ruffle the bedding, spill some oil on the sheets, and pretend we had a night worthy of the chamberlain’s inspection.”

A flash of panic rises within you. You stand, words tumbling out in a rush. “Nonsense! Marriage is not recognized before the temple unless consummated on the night of the ceremony.”

He tilts his head, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Such peculiar customs you have here on Noir.”

You had imagined a thousand ways this night could go, a thousand versions of the man you’d just married. Not one of them prepared you for this.

You flush, frustration building in your chest. “General, I would appreciate it if you respect the customs of Noir. We are a proud people, and we honor the traditions passed down to us by our forefathers.”

He rolls his eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate pace, he stands and makes his way toward you. For every step he takes, you fight the instinct to hunch your shoulders, to shrink away. Next thing you know, he’s standing before you, his imposing size forcing you to tilt your head back to maintain your gaze.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, gently cupping your face. The heat of his touch burns through your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You finally avert your eyes. “I’ve never been with a man before,” you manage to say with as much indifference as you can muster, nails digging into your palms.

“Really? Not even a stolen kiss in your youth?”

You clench your teeth. “There are far more pressing matters to focus on than indulging in childish flirtations.”

He laughs, a rich, deep sound that resonates through the air, stirring an unexpected warmth low in your belly.

“Alright,” he concedes, his finger tracing a slow path along your cheek. Without warning, he grips your jaw, the touch both commanding and tender, pulling your gaze back to meet his. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way. None of those absurd rules from your royal handbook.”

You pull back slightly, brows knitting in confusion. “The act is the same, is it not?”

“Do you agree, Your Highness?” he presses, lips grazing your ear ever so slightly. The warmth of his breath against your skin is unfamiliar, and the rush of heat that sweeps up your neck sends electrifying pulses deep within your core.

“Yes,” you grit out.

After studying your expression one last time, he lowers himself slightly, then grips the back of your thighs and lifts you with ease. You gasp, scrambling to find your balance. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, fingers digging into the firm, broad muscles of his shoulders. With a smooth shift, he adjusts your position, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips, before carrying you to the vanity desk at the center of the room.

You struggle to speak, words caught in your throat as the sensation of being so high up in the air makes you dizzy. He finally sets you down on the desk, his large palms slowly dragging down your legs, gently pushing your knees apart.

“G—General,” you stammer, eyes wide as he pulls his tunic over his head, revealing a tanned expanse of skin and the hard, defined muscles beneath. “The bed is over there—why are we here?”

A flicker of a smile plays at his lips as he tosses the fabric carelessly to the floor. “Trust me, princess. Now close your eyes.”

You want to argue, remind him that asking you to trust the most notorious figure in the realm—whom you’ve barely known for a day—is no small request. But the gravity in his scarlet gaze quiets any protest. With a reluctant breath, you close your eyes.

There’s no movement at first. Then, his calloused palms find your knees, the rough calluses a stark contrast against the smooth stretch of your skin. Heat blossoms under his touch, searing its way upward as his hands glide along the curve of your hips, the taper of your waist. You fail to suppress the shudder coursing through you when his touch pauses just below the swell of your breasts, lingering for a heartbeat before sliding to your sides, his broad palms more than spanning the width of your back.

Then, you feel the faint brush of his breath against your mouth, a fleeting warmth before his lips capture yours in a tender kiss. The hot, wet sensation has your back arching instinctively, your hardened nipples pressing through the thin fabric of your nightgown against his hard chest. A deep, throbbing ache pulses at your core, and you clamp your thighs together in a futile effort to suppress the damp heat pooling between them.

The overwhelming rush of sensations draws a whimper from your lips, your trembling hands clutching at his shoulders for stability. His response is immediate—a low, guttural groan before he deepens the kiss, his mouth returning to yours with even more fervor.

You’ve read about kissing in your sparse collection of romance novels, tried to envision the mechanics behind the act. But the mental images always fell short, awkward and unappealing, leaving you unconvinced of its charm. You’d dismissed it as unnecessary, even pointless—especially when it came to something as pragmatic and straightforward as sex.

But now the general is sneaking in the hot, wet glide of his tongue between your lips and you panic, not sure what it is he’s doing and what you’re supposed to do. He must sense your uncertainty, because his large hand moves to steady your jaw and nape, holding you in place. When he feels the accidental brush of your tongue, he wastes no time and sucks at it, the lewd sound echoing in your ears, forcing soft, strangled sounds from your throat.

You no longer feel the seeping chill from outside the castle walls, body now feeling like it’s on fire, the wetness dripping from your entrance sliding down your inner thighs. You feel like you’re drunk and about to pass out, so you push his chest back with a gentle palm.

“General,” you say, heaving through swollen lips. “What… what are we doing? The bed…”

He takes a moment to steady his breath, eyes squeezed shut, palms pressing firmly at your waist. Then, a low, rough chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“You’re infuriatingly naive,” he mutters, his sweat-damp forehead resting against your shoulder. “You must be the only woman of all arranged marriages eager to crawl into bed with a man she barely knows.”

You flush, indignant at the implication behind his words. “What are you trying to say?” you demand, mouth unconsciously forming into a pout.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. “What I’m saying, princess, is let me take care of you. I don’t know what your upbringing has taught you, but there’s more to this than just... getting it over with.”

You’re not used to being told what to do and deviating from the rules, so you force out a sharp “fine”—an unintended display of bratty defiance, considering the man before you. But he only laughs, and to your dismay, the sound makes him even more handsome than he already is.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, lifting you by your bottom this time, pressing you flush against his chest. His hands on your backside—so close to where you’re throbbing and wet—has you flinching forward. You suddenly feel the brush of something firm against the sensitive nub above your slit, and you jerk again in surprise.

He chuckles, before gently lowering you onto the soft expanse of the mattress. His lips find your collarbone first, then trail down to your nipples, where he suckles through the fabric. A soft whimper escapes you, your fingers curling into the sheets. You can feel his smile against your skin as his tongue sweeps over one of your sensitive buds, before continuing its journey down toward your abdomen.

But then he hovers his face above your groin that’s barely concealed by the bunched-up hem of your nightgown. Alarm jolts through you, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, torso rising instinctively. You attempt to close your legs, but his hands hold them firmly apart. 

“General—”

“Sylus,” he interrupts, lips brushing along the inside of your knee. “We’re married now, sweetheart. Use my name.”

A twisted sense of pride coils within you, knowing you hold both the name and face of the most infamous man in the realm.

You hesitate, swallowing the lump in your throat before continuing. “Sylus,” you echo, the name oddly satisfying on your lips. “Not that I’m… doubting your expertise, but is all of this really necessary?”

He exhales heavily, saying nothing at first. Then, he takes your hand—its size utterly lost in his grip—and guides it down your body. His movements are deliberate, stopping only when your palm meets the undeniable hardness of his cock, straining against his trousers.

You struggle to contain the jumbled stutters tumbling from your lips. “What are you—”

“I’m a big man,” he states matter-of-factly, his gaze unwavering. “And this is your first time. As you are now—you won’t be able to handle me.”

You don’t fully understand what he means, but the statement silences you nonetheless.

He chuckles, letting go of your hand, and you immediately pull it back to your chest. “May I?” he asks, his voice low as he hovers below you once again.

You flash a glare, before nodding reluctantly.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans back, his gaze shifting downward to the space between your legs. Slowly, he lifts the hem of your dress, inch by inch, until the cool air brushes against your exposed skin. You watch, eyes heavy, fighting the tremors rushing through you, as his hand moves along the inside of your thigh. When his fingers brush against your folds, a sharp exhale escapes you, and your head falls back onto the mattress.

“You’re so sensitive, princess,” he murmurs, amusement lacing his words.

“Shut up and get on with it,” you snap, covering your eyes with your forearm.

You hear a quiet laugh escape him before two fingers press against the sensitive nub above your folds, sending a shock of pleasure through your body. Your back arches instinctively as he slides his fingers up and down against your entrance. The motion, slick and sinful, leaves you gasping, and you struggle to keep your legs open, body trembling from the unfamiliar pleasure.

Sylus’ eyes darken, flicking between the way his fingers tease your slick folds and the way your breasts strain against your dress. His breathing grows heavier as he reaches up, pulling the neckline down to expose your chest. A soft whine escapes you when his hand cups one swell, firm yet gentle, while the other continues its relentless ministrations below.

“I’m pressing one in, alright?” he murmurs.

You barely register the words before he pushes a thick finger past your folds.

“Wait—it feels—ngh—it’s strange,” you stammer, voice hitching on a whine.

He stills immediately, digit only halfway in. “Does it hurt?”

“I… kind of? I don’t know…”

You’re panting. The pressure is peculiar, and quite unpleasant. Your body tenses at the newness of it, the unfamiliar stretch bordering on discomfort.

He remains patient, finger unmoving. Then, you feel his thumb press on your nub, drawing gentle circles against the sensitive lower hood of it. The obscene sound of slickness fills the space and you’re mortified, toes curling at the wave of arousal soaking his hand.

“This better?” he whispers, drinking in every detail—your heaving chest, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the tremor in your thighs, and the glistening mess pooling between them.

You can’t respond, overwhelmed by the spiraling pleasure.

A chuckle rumbles from him, low and pleased, as he presses the rest of his finger inside. This time, it slides in smoothly, and the high-pitched moan that escapes you is muffled by your trembling palm. Now knuckle-deep, he gently strokes upward, pressing on a rough spot that makes you jerk in his hold.

“I’m going to try something, alright?” he says softly, breath brushing against your knee as he plants a tender kiss.

“Okay,” you croak, struggling to process the pulsing sensations building deep inside you.

The circles on your nub stop, and you almost whimper at the loss. But before you can voice your complaints, something warm, wet, and utterly foreign replaces his thumb. Your head snaps back, a raw, choked cry tearing from your lips.

“General—hah—Sylus… What are you—?”

He doesn’t answer. Dazed, you prop yourself up and the sight before you is almost too much: the most powerful man in the realm, kneeling between your legs, his mouth worshiping you with unrelenting fervor. His tongue laps at your folds, drags it languidly up to your engorged nub before closing his lips around it, sucking in a way that sends sharp, electric pulses straight through your core.

Panicked by the unbearable pressure building inside, you try to push his head away. “Stop—it’s strange, I feel like I’m going to—”

Before you can finish, he slides another finger inside, stretching you further. His fingers curl, stroking that spongy spot with unrelenting precision. His mouth works in tandem, alternating between suckling and lapping at your overstimulated nub.

Tears blur your vision as the intensity peaks. You scream into your palms, hips bucking against his mouth and hand as you feel yourself tip over the high he brought you to.

Sylus watches, entranced, as your legs open wider, cries muffled as your body convulses under his ministrations. Even as you shatter under him, he doesn’t let up, prolonging your fall at his mercy. And when you’re finally sent over the edge, your release flooding his eager mouth, he drinks in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, and utterly spent.

He presses his cheek against your inner thigh, feeling the delicate tremors rippling through your body as you struggle to steady your breathing. His eyes trail over your folds, soft and swollen, slightly parted as your essence continues to glisten and drip. Unable to hold back, he dips his head and presses a slow, deliberate kiss, groaning as your intoxicating taste lingers on his lips.

Your cry pierces the air, hands flying to his hair as you tug with desperation. “W—Wait…! I can’t… it’s too much… please…”

He only chuckles, low and teasing, before placing a final kiss on the sensitive nub above your folds. Then, he moves upward, settling his weight against you. His chin rests between your breasts, arms locking yours in place as his eyes meet yours, heat and satisfaction dancing in his gaze.

As clarity slowly returns, the enormity of what just happened hits you. He—the Onichynus general, a man who strikes fear in nations across the realm—had just laved at your most intimate area with his tongue. Such an act is nowhere to be found in the guides you’ve read on sex, not even as a distant suggestion. And yet, you enjoyed it. Far more than you care to admit.

An embarrassed huff escapes you as heat blooms across your face. You throw your hands up to cover it, unwilling to meet the insufferable smugness you can practically feel radiating from him below.

Suddenly, you feel the neckline of your dress being tugged down again, catching beneath your breasts. Then, you feel the flat of his tongue gently press on a nipple, circling it with the tip before pulling it into his mouth to suckle. His hand slides up to your other bud, palm brushing over it in slow, deliberate motions. Breasts are meant to nourish, to sustain future generations—mere vessels for the creation of life. Yet the hairs at the back of your neck raise on end as you feel the return of the persistent pulsing deep within you. You bite your lip, stifling the sounds threatening to escape, back arching as you desperately chase the sensation of his mouth on you.

“We can stop now if you wish, Your Highness,” he murmurs against your skin.

Fighting the heaviness taking over your body, you grab his jaw, forcing him to meet the fire in your gaze. “Do you have a problem with consummating with me, general?”

He responds with a particularly sharp suck at your nipple.

“Ngh—! Sylus! I meant Sylus!” you cry out, correcting yourself with a gasp.

He smiles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before moving to the soft curve of your breast. His mouth alternates between harsh sucking and teasing bites, leaving a trail of bruised blooms in his wake.

“While intercourse may be a mere formality to you Noir people, in Onichynus, it’s an act of passion and love,” he says, voice low as he shifts to giving attention to your other bud. “I wish to ensure that Her Highness, my wife, has a memorable first experience. So, if you feel spent for the night, we can always stop. At any time.”

His words settle deep inside you and you feel warmth spread in your chest. Perhaps Onichynus is more than the tales of its ruthless reputation, after all. Hesitantly, you caress his cheek, heart aching at the way he closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm. He almost seems like a clingy pet feline.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I want to finish the rites,” you say softly. Then, you flush, struggling to find the right words. “And, um, I didn’t expect things to be this… good. I don’t mind experiencing more, if it’s alright with you.”

It takes a moment for your words to register, and when they do, Sylus smirks—a slow, predatory curl of his lips that sends heat coursing through your body. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, and this time, you grant him easy access. You mimic what he did to you earlier, tentatively wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking gently.

Immediately, a low, visceral groan escapes him as his hips press forward, grinding his restrained arousal against your soaked folds. The rough fabric of his trousers drags against your sensitive nub, sending jolts of pleasure rippling through you. You whine into his mouth, arms winding around his neck as you pull him impossibly closer.

Sylus seems barely in control now, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he adjusts his movements, angling his hips so that the ridge where his shaft meets the head rubs directly against your overstimulated nub.

Without warning, he breaks the kiss, leaving you on the verge of a whine as a string of spit bridges the space between you. He steps back, tugging his trousers down in one swift motion. Your gaze drops instinctively, and your breath catches at the sight of him.

Broad shoulders taper into a lean waist, and every inch of his sculpted body radiates strength. But it’s the thick, throbbing length between his legs that holds your attention. He notices the starstruck look on your gaze and he chuckles, walking closer to you until you're face level with it. Taking your hand, he gently wraps it around his girth. The sheer thickness overwhelms your grip, and your breath catches at the realization.

“Feel free to take a look,” he rasps.

You’ve never seen a cock before, but instinctively, you know this one is massive. The shaft is thick,  with prominent veins that seem to throb faintly, and the soft, rounded shapes below it look heavy and full. The bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip is flushed, beads of some kind of white, translucent fluid glistening at the slit. For some reason, you feel the urge to lean in and taste it.

Sylus takes your hand, shaping it into a loose 'O.' “This is you,” he murmurs, guiding your fingers to glide along his length, spreading the slick fluid. “And this…” He pushes through the circle you’ve made, the thick head sliding in and out. “…is how it’ll feel when I’m inside you.”

Slowly, he begins to move, sliding his shaft through your grip. The sensation is intoxicating, and you’re mesmerized by the sight of him—his cock pumping in and out of your hand, each stroke leaving it sticky with his arousal. You don’t even realize your lips are parting until you lean forward, your tongue darting out to flick against the leaking tip.

Sylus lets out a guttural moan, one hand tangling in your hair as his hips jerk involuntarily. His taste—salty and slightly bitter—is heady, and the heat of him against your tongue heightens your arousal. He bucks into your mouth, and though you gag slightly, you fight to take more of him, desperate for the connection.

You feel too empty.

“Princess—fuck—this is torture,” he groans, his deep voice rough with restraint.

You can only moan in response, lips stretched around his cock as he begins thrusting into your mouth. His large hands steady your head, guiding your movements. You peek up at him through fluttering lashes, and you feel your folds quiver at the sinful sight of the Onichynus general panting, eyes shut, sweat-covered muscles taut as he pistons in and out of you.

You are Noir’s beloved princess—revered and envied for your beauty, grace, and intellect—yet now you’re barely coherent, delirious over the addictive taste of your husband as he fucks your mouth over and over.

One particularly deep thrust hits the back of your throat and you gag, tears springing to your eyes. Sylus curses under his breath and withdraws immediately.

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he pants, taking in the sight of you—tears streaking your cheeks, saliva glistening on your lips, thighs pressed together in a futile attempt to relieve your ache.

“It’s okay,” you croak, voice hoarse and small.

Sylus pauses, taking a moment to steady himself and pull back from the frenzy consuming him, before climbing onto the bed, positioning himself against the headboard. His hands grip your waist, lifting you effortlessly to straddle his lap. Movements frantic and barely restrained, he aligns your slick folds against the length of his shaft. His lips find yours again, urgent and demanding, while his hands grip your hips, guiding you to rock against him. The friction against your sensitive nub draws a cry from you, and he groans into your mouth.

“Let me have you, princess,” he practically begs against your lips between heavy breaths.

You barely have time to process his words before he lifts you slightly, the broad head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance. Then, you feel an immediate, sharp stretch as he breaches your folds, pushing deeper until the full length of him fills you to the hilt.

A strangled cry escapes you and you collapse against his chest, burying your face in his neck with stilted sobs. Sylus remains still, large hands massaging your rear soothingly, coaxing your body to adjust.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he whispers, lips brushing against your temple. “Just breathe. Let me in.”

“It hurts,” you gasp. He shifts slightly, and a sharp sensation makes you wince, like he’s hitting a spot that feels too far, too much. “T—Too big…”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, breath hot and uneven against your ear. His hands move carefully, gently parting the delicate skin of your folds in an attempt to ease the stretch and make it more bearable.

Keeping his hips as still as possible, he reaches for the hem of your now sweat-soaked nightgown, lifting it with as much gentleness as he can muster. His eyes trace the path of the fabric as it reveals the slick mess of fluids dripping from where you're joined, the soft curve of your belly, the delicate bounce of your breasts freed from constraint, and finally, your tear-streaked face—beautiful, vulnerable, and utterly his. Guilt flickers through him as he feels himself twitch and grow even harder inside you, despite your pained whimpers.

After tossing the fabric aside, his lips find your neck, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to the spots that make your walls flutter around him, drawing soft, helpless sounds from your lips. 

“Once you’re settled in our home on the mainland, you’ll have everything you could ever desire,” he murmurs, hands gliding up to rub gentle circles over your hardened nipples.

“You’ll have servants at your beck and call, and you’ll be free to do whatever you please. No one will dare defy you—no one will even think to.”

The vivid imagery of his words wraps around your mind like a spell, pulling you deeper into him. The sharp discomfort of being stretched begins to ebb, replaced by a dull ache that shifts to faint blooms of pleasure.

“And when you finally swell with my child,” he breathes, tone thick with promise, “I’ll find endless delight in claiming you over and over, until the first light of dawn touches us.”

You flush at the picture of him taking you like this, with your belly round and full with his heir.

He chuckles low against your ear, the sound dark and rich. “Oh? You like that idea, don’t you?”

You huff, landing a light smack on his chest. “Do not tease me,” you protest, voice carrying a hint of authority despite your half-lidded gaze. The sight of you perched on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, while you fix him with a stern, regal expression befitting a princess is enough to have his hips bucking up to you.

With a strained groan, he crashes his lips against your neck, his cock throbbing almost painfully within your tight walls. “I need you, princess,” he rasps against your skin, barely holding back the urge to thrust up into you.

The pressure of the stretch still lingers, but the sharp pain has melted into pulses of pleasure. You place your hips back, grinding your sensitive nub against his groin, desperate for more. “Please do something,” you plead, hips moving in frantic, clumsy circles, chasing a bliss you don’t know you’re craving.

Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He lowers you back onto the mattress while still buried deep inside you. Propping himself up on his elbows, his gaze locks onto yours as he slowly draws his hips back, leaving only the tip nestled at your entrance. Then, in a single, fluid motion, he sinks back in to the hilt, filling you completely in one long, unrelenting stroke.

You cry out, this time in response to the delicious friction of his cock dragging against your walls. Driven wild by your reaction, he pulls back again, then thrusts deeply into you with another slow, deliberate plunge. A hiss escapes him as the head of his cock presses against your deepest depths.

“You’re doing so good,” he groans, lips brushing over the bruises left by his earlier kisses on your neck. “You’ve been such a darling for me, haven’t you?”

To his twisted delight, you remain incomprehensible, helpless sounds pouring from your kiss-bitten lips as you scramble to steady yourself by gripping his shoulders, nails digging painfully into his skin. He’s almost feral at the way your flesh ripples from the impact of each thrust. The princess of Noir, coveted by men all over the realm, now lies beneath him, sweat-slicked, legs spread, and taking his cock so wonderfully.  But beyond that, he sees the most perfect queen—one whose unparalleled intellect and sharp wit can stand beside him in his pursuit for power.

Suddenly, he pulls out, and you whine, tears staining your cheeks at the dizzying emptiness. He merely shushes you soothingly before gently turning you over onto your stomach. Before you can garble out a question on what he’s doing, he plunges into you once more, hitting a spot against your front that has you curling your toes and screaming into the sheets.

“I—It feels s—strange again—!” you manage between broken whimpers, each word punctuated by the relentless rhythm of his movements against your sore walls.

“Wanna feel good again, princess?” he murmurs against your ear.

Your answering sob is all the reply you can muster.

Suddenly, you’re hoisted up on your knees, his strong arm wrapping around your waist as his other hand grips your jaw, holding your face up. His thrusts quicken, erratic and desperate, and you gasp as his tongue traces the outer shell of your ear. Then, his hand slides lower, fingers finding the swollen nub above your abused folds. The sudden burst of pleasure at the rubbing motion has you crying out, body tightening as a familiar heat coils low in your belly.

You begin to thrash in his hold at the overwhelming sensations. “Sy—I think—I think I’m—”

“Let it happen, princess, I got you.”

With those words, your hands tangle in his sweat-damp hair as a violent shudder wracks your body, exhausted sobs escaping your lips. His relentless pace doesn’t falter, eyes locked on the harsh bounce of your breasts as he pounds into you from behind, chasing his release. The tight grip of your walls and the slick heat enveloping his cock finally push him over the edge, his thrusts turning shallow and frantic before burying himself deep with a final, forceful motion, spilling his seed inside you.

Sylus takes a moment to catch his breath, pressing soft, chaste kisses along your shoulders.

“You alright, princess?”

You don’t respond.

Confused, he gently tilts your head back, only to find your peaceful, sleeping face, soft snores escaping your lips. He huffs a small laugh. How adorable.

Carefully, he shifts against the headboard, settling you onto him with his half-hard cock still nestled inside, twitching faintly. Draping your legs over his knees, he starts massaging your inner thighs, soothing the soreness he knows must be there.

A series of sharp knocks echoes through the room.

“This is the chamberlain. I must confirm that the consummation rites have been fulfilled for your marriage to be deemed legitimate by the Grand Temple.”

Sylus scowls, eyes scanning over your sleeping form. “Can’t this wait in the morning?”

“This is necessary to eliminate any possibility of deceit in performing the rites.”

“Damn uptights,” he mutters. Then, a smirk plays at the corner of his lips. “Well, come in then.”

The door swings open, revealing the old chamberlain in his faded temple robes, his attention fixed on his ledger. He mumbles the schedule for the following day as he approaches the bed. When he finally looks up, expecting to see the usual ruffled, soaked sheets, he freezes, almost stumbling backward in shock.

You—the cherished Noir princess, known for your beauty and headstrong grace—lie exhausted, nestled against the imposing form of the feared Onichynus general behind you. His scarlet eyes glint as he sucks a mark onto the side of your neck, and beneath you, his impressive girth disappears into your swollen, intimate folds, generous amounts of your combined essences coating his base.

“This is evidence enough, no?” Sylus taunts, sneaking in a shallow thrust up to you, drawing a soft, breathless whine from your throat.

The chamberlain stammers, his words fumbling as he backs toward the door.

“Y—Yes, the rites are confirmed. Good night,” he rushes out in a single breath before slamming the door behind him.

Chuckling, Sylus pulls his sleeping wife closer, placing a tender kiss on your temple. You’ll need the rest for the long journey ahead, and for whatever adjustments await you back on the mainland.

But, in the end, none of that matters.

He’s just grateful to have found his beloved kitten again.

check out my other works!

[i2sunric]

𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh)

PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sergeant as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?

WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, cream pie, angst if you squint (like, really squint), mentions of scars, pet names (sweetheart), i abused the world ‘would’. i know. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th August 2024

WC: 6k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey y @destinyhoon (oneshot) @indigoez @astratlantis @shuichi-sama @skaterhoon @simsungsims @hoonatic @sammie217 @hoonics @kissesforthefangirl @woorcve @laurradoesloveu @capri-cuntz @whateverhoon @woninluv @cyjhhyj @alienqbrain BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle

a/n: honestly, i don’t like it. the idea was good, the outcome not so, but let me know your thoughts. i literally don’t know old english, my knowledge comes from pride and prejudice and bridgerton, im sorry (i gave up by the end and it shows). please LIKE & REBLOG (or don’t, cause this is the worst fic i’ve ever written lol)

You hadn’t realised just how drastically your life could change overnight until you woke up to the news that your father, the ever so powerful king of the North realm, had died in war.

Soon, your teachers were making you learn about strategies and alliances, not about history anymore, your legions kneeled before you, ready to be at your service.

You had to watch your mother, the woman you looked up to, being consumed by the grief of her dead husband until the grim reaper decided to make them reunite.

Leaving you all alone. Helpless, bearing a burden so heavy it crashed your shoulders.

In just the span of a month you found yourself leading a kingdom through war, sending hundreds of warriors to their death sentence.

The crown weighed significantly on your head, your desk was full of scrambled letters and quills dripping ink, and if it wasn’t for your most-trusted maid, Ella, you would’ve certainly already died of hunger, leaving your people without a ruler.

Fortunately, the same day of your coronation, the first day of you being a queen was also the first day of a young sergeant.

He was the youngest of all, just like you being the youngest of the monarchs, and was leading the loyal legion.

Doing a better job than you, you had to say. He was diligent, perfect in his tasks and polite whenever you interpellated him.

His name was Park Sunghoon, and it didn’t take much for you to nominate him as your personal royal guard.

He was an attractive man, barely a couple of years older than you but he indeed towered you by much.

Sunghoon’s face was sharp, with a defined jawline and hardly any trace of baby-fat left.

Despite his frail appearance, you knew he had defined muscles hidden under his white guard uniform, you had seen it.

Even if you were busy with your tight schedule, especially after your coronation, you still found the time to peek at him.

In the morning he’d train the royal legions, helping new warriors. In the afternoon, he would follow you through your travels around the realm, visiting villages and other castles.

The days you stayed at the castle he’d occupy his afternoons by doing some training alone and some evenings he would stand out of your bedroom to guard.

And Sunghoon? Well, he was as attracted to you as you were.

It always sent jolts of excitement whenever he was around you, walking you to your activities and always keeping an eye for possible harms.

Especially one day, when Ella ran towards him with a bucket full of water when he was guarding your bedroom “Sergeant!” She panted, “Please, would you be so kind to bring this into her majesty’s room? I need to get another one.”

Sunghoon was quick to nod “Of course.” He replied politely and took the heavy — for her, not so for him — bucket from her hands.

Ella sincerely thanked him and hurried away to complete her task while the young guard opened your bedroom door.

When his eyes raised to your figure, he saw you standing there… naked. Probably expecting your maid to enter and certainly not your personal guard.

Your hands quickly shot to cover your dignity, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of pink as you breathed “Dear lord.”

Had he been more reckless, he would’ve dropped the bucket, but he managed to keep his polite demeanour.

“My sincere apologies, my lady, I should’ve knocked.” He turned slightly to the side so as not to look at you, but still managed to peek from the corner of his eye.

“D-doesn’t matter..” You murmured, reaching for the nightgown on the chair of the desk and quickly slipping it on “I just didn’t expect it to be… you, sergeant.”

Sunghoon nodded, “Where do you want me to place this?” He asked, raising the container of water.

You stepped aside, hugging your arms like you were afraid your nightgown could reveal your body to him once more. Not like he would complain.

“Inside the tub would be great.” You replied, watching as he lifted the bucket and dropped the hot water in it.

Sunghoon dared to look at you only then, bowing his head slightly “I apologise again. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

You let out a small breath and offered him a warm smile. You were always so kind and thoughtful to everyone, it made him want to lock those who dared to criticise you in the dungeons and make them all perish.

“Worry not,” Your voice was gentle, like a ray of sunshine through the storm “I forgive you, after all, it was an accident.”

Sunghoon thought that if he ever had the chance to take a glimpse at your perfect, naked body, he would’ve taken it right away.

But he chose against letting you know and opted for a “Thank you, my queen.” He bowed, “Anything else you need for me?”

“No, thank you.” You said “You can go back to your duty.”

He nodded and headed to the door, hesitating for a second and then walked out.

The image of your naked body was hard to remove from his mind. Sergeant.

Your curves, your dips, the colour of your skin, your breasts and your pretty pussy… Sergeant?

He wondered what you would feel like if he touched you, tasted you— “Sergeant!”

The voice of one of the royal guards snapped Sunghoon out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat “Yes?”

“It’s my turn,” He said, his eyes blinking faintly “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, worry not.” Sunghoon nodded and gave his farewell to the guard before walking to his chamber.

Since you had labelled him worthy of being your personal knight, his bedroom was in the same wing as yours, unlike all the other knights in the legion that stayed in the West wing.

He entered his chamber and closed the door behind his back, the room was dark except for the moonlight shining from the window.

It was better that way, he enjoyed the natural light, rather than the artificial one from the candles that also smelled bad and spread smoke in the room.

Sunghoon sighed, quickly removing his uniform to put on some more comfortable clothes, some black pants and a white, sleeved shirt.

He dropped down on the bed, another quiet sigh leaving his lips.

He rested one of his arms behind his head while he played mindlessly with the laces of his shirt.

It was stronger than him, his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.

Your body.

Perhaps, it was that you were so modest, despite literally being the ruler of the kingdom, or it was the fact that you were literally his type.

But he was drawn to you, the same way a donkey was to the apple in front of him. Maybe not the best example, but you get it.

At the thought of your flushed face, he felt his pants growing tighter. At your plump and tender lips, he palmed himself to soothe his growing desire.

At the memory of your perky nipples and your breasts, his hand slipped inside his trousers until he pulled them down to his ankles.

Sunghoon knew he couldn’t be loud, but the soft whimpers and groans that left his lips weren’t contained.

He imagined it was your hand, the one providing him relief, that you were down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Oh yes, you’re so good.” He whispered, squeezing the base of his thick cock, it twitched.

The tip was angry red as he heavenly stroked it, never focusing on one place more than the other.

If it were you, would you lick his tip? Would you squeeze his balls and take him in your mouth?

Would you ever fit him all?

“Take my cock,” He groaned, thrusting his hips upward to fuck his fist “Take it like a good girl.”

He pressed two fingers on the tip of his length, edging himself “You like to tease, my lady?”

So many filthy scenes played in his mind, keeping him company as he felt the sweet sensation in his lower stomach.

“I’m so close, sweetheart.” He groaned, moving his hand so fast it almost hurt his wrist “You want it on your breasts? Of course.” He kept moving until he saw white, “Take it.”

He was left spent, dirty white all over his sheets as he tried to even his breath.

Sunghoon fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, and he woke up even better after you visited his dreams and showed him how much you wanted him.

…Too bad it wasn’t real, right?

𓆩♡𓆪

After your little and awkward interaction with Sunghoon, the previous evening, you decided to go find him during his late afternoon training.

You would’ve lied if you were to say it didn’t turn you on, the thought of being seen by him in such an intimate manner. But that, he mustn’t know.

He was wearing a black sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers of the same colour, a great contrast with his skin.

You quietly tip-toed, walking towards as he stroked in the air with the fencing sword.

His movements were calculated, precise and so mesmerising you hadn’t even realised you were right behind him until the blade stopped right beside your jugular.

You gulped “Good evening.” Sunghoon widened his eyes and quickly placed himself into a more polite position, removing the swords from your neck “I'm so sorry, my lady, I didn’t see you coming.”

You just smiled at him “You seem excellent at fencing.” You commented, your fingertips trailing the blade of the sword, careful not to cut yourself.

“Fencing is one of my favourite parts of training, my queen.” He replied, his tone serious.

You hummed “Is that so?” The way the sunset kissed his skin, how his hair was perfectly combed and matched with his fit looked straight out of the erotic novels you hid under your bed.

“I’ve always wanted to learn this type of art.” You informed him “Though, it would be too scandalous for a woman to do it, wouldn’t it?”

Sunghoon’s gaze was soft as he commented “There’s nothing scandalous in wanting to be able to defend yourself.” He threw you a french sword “Even if you have a whole legion before you.”

You swiftly caught it, circling around Sunghoon while he did the same.

“Nah ah,” He was quick to correct “Eyes on the enemy’s, never on the sword.” You diverted your gaze from the sword to his chocolate, warm eyes.

“Great,” Sunghoon praised. “You must study your enemy if you have the time, watch his body language.”

He stroked again and you barely missed it. A second time and you docked it.

At the third, you blocked it “You slightly blink your right eye when you strike.”

Sunghoon smiled proudly, “Yes, that’s right.” You squealed happily, making him slightly widen his eyes.

If it wasn’t the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Now, your strike isn’t bad, especially in second and third, but your position can be better.” He dropped his sword and walked behind you.

“Bend your knees.” He commanded and you obliged again, following his instructions “Your arm shouldn’t stay that far… tilt your elbow.”

“Your back is already straight,” His fingers trailed the laces of your corset, feeling your spine underneath them “But your chin should be tilted… like this.” He tipped your chin up with his index finger.

“How about how?” You whispered breathlessly, feeling the coldness of his skin against your burning one.

“Better, but not perfect.” Sunghoon replied and quickly put space between the two of you “Still, you’re one of my best students.”

You smiled happily and was about to reply when Ella called you from afar because dinner was being served.

You sighed “I must go.” You said, slightly hoping he would keep you with him.

However, obviously, he just nodded and bowed. “It has been a pleasure, my lady.”

As he watched you walk away, he hoped you hadn’t felt the proof of his desire pressed against your back when he fixed your position… the proof he had to fix before anyone could notice.

𓆩♡𓆪

Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallway as he made his way to your room. He wasn’t sure about the reason as to why you called him, given the fact that he was supposed to be patrolling the main gates, but it seemed clear when he noticed you had already sent the guard outside your room to rest.

He stood in front of your bedroom door, the hallway only dimly lit by the few candles on the walls.

There was something in his mind that told him he was still in time to turn his heels and simply ignore your late-night visit request, even if it would eventually get him in trouble.

Still, he aight and placed his hand on the doorknob, quietly opening your bedroom door and entering.

Out of precaution, he locked the door behind him and made a few steps towards you, nevertheless keeping some distance.

“My queen,” Sunghoon began, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His tone was quiet, almost concerned.

You were standing in front of the large window that gave you a nice view of the royal gardens, the moonlight illuminating the room as well as a few candles on the tables.

Despite the late hours, you were still wearing your pistachio green gown, your favourite one. The one that once belonged to your mother.

It gave you a sense of comfort, reminiscing the days where you would drown in the fabric as you played queen and princess with her.

You deeply wished it was still a game.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” You replied, still giving him your back.

Sunghoon cleared his throat. Yes, he’d seen you in that gown the same morning, but now, in the intimacy of your chamber, it made him want to drop to his knees.

He made his way so that he was standing just a few steps behind you “Any particular reason for your lack of sleep?” He inquired.

You sighed softly. The moon made your doe eyes sparkle, as if they held the stars in them, “Perhaps, thoughts of the upcoming war.”

Sunghoon’s hands hitched to hold yours, to give you the comfort you needed without any paternal figure to rely on.

Still, he kept them clasped behind his back. The need to be respectful of your position was still in the front of his mind.

“It is not confirmed yet,” He tried to reassure “The other kingdoms may decide not to attack anymore.”

You tried to find reassurance in his words, but even if your people thought so, you weren’t naïve. “They killed my father,” You gulped. “It’s just a matter of time before they come at me next.”

And that was true, everytime you ever tried to close your eyes to seek some rest, your mind would play any possible scenario.

You being slayed, you being beheaded… your kingdom going in flames.

“No one will touch you,” His voice was soothing, like a hand pulling you out of deep water, preventing you from drowning “Not while I’m here.”

You finally allowed yourself to look at him, afraid that if you did it the second you heard the key of your room twisting you would’ve kissed him.

His hair was still perfectly in place, his forehead in sight. His porcelain-like skin glowing under the rays of the moon, caressing his cheeks.

You offered him a polite smile “You seem confident, sergeant.”

Sunghoon let the briefest of a smile form on his lips “Confidence comes with the job,” He said, softly “It is my duty to protect you, my queen, and I take that very seriously.

“What else does your job offer?” You asked, fully turning your body towards him “Apart from private fencing lessons and a twenty-four-seven guarding.”

His breath hitched slightly when you stood in front of him, he hadn’t even realised the vicinity you two had until he had to tilt his head down to stare at you. It would be so easy to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his hands.

Sunghoon’s gaze slowly dragged from your chest up to your face. “That’s it, mainly,” He said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Though… my duties extend to anything you ask of me, my queen.”

“Anything?” You murmured quietly, your eyes widening.

He wanted to touch you so badly, to pull you against him so he could kiss you and touch you anywhere and everywhere. But he had to keep the professional veil going, even though he knew you were baiting him.

He nodded, his eyes on yours “Anything at all.”

You batted your eyelashes, trying to seduce him without boldly doing so “Is that so, sergeant?”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, struggling to keep his composure and hoping you weren’t able to see the effect of your presence.

He took a deep breath before replying “Yes, anything you ask of me.”

You gulped, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to put into action your plan “I believe I need to unwind,” You stated “Any ideas?”

Sunghoon’s mind was immediately flooded with ideas, most of them very, very inappropriate for the moment. He bit his lip and tried to keep a straight face.

He considered keeping up the professional front but quickly decided against it. He was tired of forcing himself to maintain control.

“I do have a few ideas, my queen,” He said, his voice a low rumble. “Mind sharing them with me?” You asked.

Sunghoon stepped closer to you, so close that your bodies were almost touching. “My ideas may not be entirely appropriate, my queen,” He replied, “Would you like to hear them anyway?”

You closed briefly your eyes, just the brief feeling of his body near yours sending jolts of fire through your veins “I’m all ears.”

His eyes roamed over your face and body, taking in every single detail. He was practically salivating, desperate to touch you in any way possible.

Sunghoon leaned even closer, his breath now hot on your skin. “I have things I'd like to do, my queen,” He whispered in your ear. “Wicked things, to distract you from your stress.”

You let out a shaky breath, shivering from head to toe “Wicked?” You questioned.

Sunghoon felt his control slip as chuckled slowly, “Oh, very wicked, my lady.”

He brought his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses up and down your skin, taking you by surprise.

However, he kept his hands firmly by his sides, restraining himself from wandering. “I want to do things that would be highly inappropriate for a sergeant to do to his queen.”

“And who says so?” You breathed out, aching for him, your eyes flattering closed.

Sunghoon hummed against your skin, his lips moving to your collarbone. “That would be the royal laws,” He replied quietly, “Among other things.”

“I could get punished for this, you know.” He said in between kisses. “My actions are considered disrespectful.”

“I could change the law,” You replied, hooking your arms around his neck “For the night.”

His hands immediately went to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you even closer to him. “Just for the night, my queen?” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your jaw “I might want more than just one night.”

You chuckled lowly, “How do you know so already, sergeant?”

sunghoon’s hands moved from your hips to your thighs, caressing them through your nightgown, his thumbs tracing patterns against your skin.

Sunghoon pulled back to look at you, his eyes darkened significantly. “I'm quite sure, my queen,” He said, “The things I want to do to you are not something I can do just once.”

You shivered at his words, and the hungry way he was shamelessly looking at you. It almost seemed unreal, the polite soldier losing his cool in front of you, “How about you show me what you can do tonight, first?”

He looked at you, his gaze dark and intense, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.

You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately, like he was starving.

You tip toed, desperate to reach for him, to feel his lips on yours and make you forget all the duties you had.

Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, amused by your struggle to reach his height. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Too short for me, my queen?”

Without warning, he lifted you up with ease, and he continued the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to steady yourself, thanking yourself for not having worn an underskirt that would’ve made it impossible for you to straddle him.

Sunghoon groaned against your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss becoming more desperate and rougher.

He moved his lips from your mouth and attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went. One of his hands moved from your thigh to your butt, squeezing it appreciatively.

You groaned and let your head fall back, goosebumps filling your skin in reaction to his lips.

Your fingers tried to tug his blue uniform jacket, desperate to remove any clothing between the two of you.

He gently helped you to remove it, chuckling against your neck at your eagerness.

You rocked your hips, needing to feel him, to soothe the aching sensation between your legs.

He pressed his own hips back onto yours, you could feel the proof of his desire for you, secluded in his pants.

“You have no idea how hard it is not to take you right now,” He thrust upwards, making you gasp.

“What’s stopping you, sergeant?” You asked breathlessly, you knew he was trying to restrict himself, to draw a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

But you didn’t care, all you had in mind was how good his touch was on your skin, his lips on yours and how better it would’ve been if he was inside you.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, his breath causing your body to shiver “Absolutely nothing, as long as you’re not opposed to it.”

You chuckled, looking down at yourself “Does it look like I’m against it?”

Your sweet laugh only made him madder and he kissed you, tasting your lips “No, not at all, my queen.”

“Then, take me.” You whispered on his lips, your hand caressing down his arm, still clothed from his sleeved shirt.

Sunghoon shivered under your touch, your words breaking the last strand of self-restraint he had. He grabbed your hips, suddenly carrying you to the bed and dropping you down on it.

He quickly dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands on either side of you, trapping you in “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” He warned.

Your hair formed a halo around your head, spread around the mattress. Your chest was heaving up and down as you replied, “That's fine by me.”

Sunghoon hummed appreciatively at the sight of you splayed out on the bed underneath him. You looked divine, like an angel sent to drive him insane.

He connected his lips to yours once again, his hands moving behind your back as you propped yourself on your elbows.

His skilled fingers worked on the laces of your corset, undoing them.

You frowned, pulling away “Experienced much?”

Sunghoon chuckled softly as he got the corset undone, pulling the fabric off you and discarding it on the floor.

He shook his head before replying, a smirk on his lips. “Just a few,” He said. “and I have been fantasising about this moment for a while now.”

“Have you?” You whispered, your hands caressing his chest, where the v-neckline of the shirt exposed it “Have you thought about me late at night, sergeant?”

Sunghoon sighed softly, his eyes closing briefly as he confessed “Yes,” He said “Every night I’ve wondered what you would taste like, how soft you were, what your moans sounded like.”

His words only made you bolder. “Have you touched yourself wishing it was me?”

Now that the corset wasn’t restricting your air capacity, it also made the dress fall down your shoulder, exposing them to him.

He leaned down and pressed gentle kisses on your skin, trailing them up to your ear “Yes, my queen. I’ve touched myself wishing it was you, craving your body and soul.”

You let out a shaky breath, the sweet sensation warming your lower stomach “Perhaps, I have done the same.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly against your skin, his body shuddering at your confession “You’ve touched yourself, thinking about me?”

You flopped back onto the mattress and hummed “Yes.”

He was completely losing it, the thought of you touching yourself, thinking about him, driving him crazy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.

“Tell me more,” He rasped, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you've done, what you've imagined."

You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your late night secrets.

“Go on, my queen.” His voice was soft and soothing, his hips just barely pressing against yours “I won’t judge you, I can’t… Can I?” He let out a quiet chuckle.

You breathed out “I’ve thought about your fingers,” You gulped “Touching me in places no one has touched before.”

“Where?” He whispered, his nose grazing your cheek “Tell me.”

Instead of speaking, you took his hand and slowly guided it down your body, you were still covered by your dress but he could still feel your core beating under his touch.

So, in one swift movement he placed his hand under your skirt, feeling just how damp your underthings were, making you gasp.

“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured, “Is this how you are around me?”

You nodded, all drops of self awareness down the drain.

Sunghoon smirked, taking your hand with his free one and placing it on the front of his pants, making you feel his hard on “That’s what you do to me.”

Amazed, you started to palm him, letting your hand feel “I do?”

“Yes,” He whispered, his hips bucking against your touch “All the time.”

“Please,” You pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore, I really need you.”

Sunghoon sighed “There’s no turning back from this, my queen..”

“Y/N.” You blurted out, eyes taking in his reaction.

Without having you to explain, he knew what you meant. You wanted him to call you by your name, crossing a boundary that would be hard to build back.

Still, he reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly slipping it down.

You laid underneath it, the only thing separating you from him was your lace underwear, your upper body bare for him to see.

Sunghoon rested his chest on yours, his fingers grazing your clothed core as he whispered in your ear “Y/N.” Making you moan.

You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself “Sunghoon.” You breathed back.

“Y/N..” He murmured, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your entrance with his digits “My pretty, pretty girl.”

Your eyes flickered closed, senses awakened by his single touch.

“You’ve never done this?” He questioned, gathering all your juices in his fingers, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You shook your head, your mind already a puddle of nothing “No.”

“Then I need to get you all nice and lose, mh?” Sunghoon murmured, inserting one of his fingers inside your wet folds.

You gasped, your back arching against him at the intrusion “Oh lord.”

The sensation was so new but so welcome, you had never really dared to finger yourself, your orgasms were given by clit stimulation only, so when his digit thrust into you, your body jolted with each one.

Sunghoon’s lips attached to your left breath, tongue swirling around your nipple and you thought you couldn’t feel any better until he curled his fingers and found your sweet spot, making you moan out loud.

“Shh,” He cooed, pressing one hand on your mouth while his teeth gently grazed your abused nipple. “You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, don’t you?”

You were quick to shake your head, but as he thrust a second finger in your pussy, you grunted.

One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers knotting his perfectly combed hair “S-sunghoon.”

You bucked your hips up, needing him to stop and continue at the same time “Feels so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, both his fingers brushing against your sweet spot “I know, Y/N.” He murmured “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded mindlessly; you thought that even if he asked you to hand over the kingdom you would’ve nodded anyways.

You whimpered, your other hand digging in the flesh of his shoulders from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, brushing his thumb on your bundle of nerves “Relax.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers, just a brief pain from the intrusion making your head spin.

“Oh lord,” You breathed out, “I think I—“ Another broken whimper left your mouth.

Sunghoon nodded, understanding you and crashed his lips on yours, drowning your moans in.

Another thrust of his fingers got you falling apart under him, your whole body trembling.

It took a good couple of minutes and his soothing words to calm you down, your breath still laboured but at least you could keep your body still.

You opened your eyes back and met his own, he offered you a sweet smile “You’re perfect.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

You smiled back at him, slowly releasing your strong grip around his neck. “This has been… amazing.”

“I’m glad, my— Y/N.” Sunghoon quickly corrected himself, “But… we don’t have to do anything more.”

You frowned, worry coating your features “Was it because you didn’t feel good? I can help—“

He was fast to shake his head. “No, of course not.” He caressed your cheek “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“You will not.” You sat up, looking inside his eyes to convince him “I want it, Sunghoon, I want it with my whole body and soul.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, as if he physically restrained himself from reaching out to you and take you in all the ways someone can be taken.

“I want you so much it’s driving me insane,” He breathed out, resting his forehead against your chest “My sweetheart, I would love to make you mine… will you allow me to?”

You nodded “Yes, please.” You tugged at his shirt, needing him to remove it.

Sunghoon complied, tossing it to the floor as well as his trousers, leaving himself bare to you.

At first, you hadn’t understood why he was so reluctant to be intimate with you, but as soon as your eyes met his bare chest, you did.

Your breath hitched at the sight of a wide scar all across his chest, looking like half a cross.

“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your fingers trailed over it. He flinched but quickly relaxed under your gentle touch “What happened to you?”

His eyes were so vulnerable and he looked like a lost boy, not like the sergeant of a legion. “I will just say that I had a close contact with a blade, back when I was still training to become a knight.”

He gulped “I understand if I repulse you—“

“No,” You quickly took his face in your hands “No. You’re beautiful.”

He frowned, as if not understanding what would you ever find beauty in such a scar.

Seeing that he wasn’t believing you, you laid on your back and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking him down with you.

Your hand reached to pump his shaft and it was as if he died and came to life again, nothing like those nights he touched himself thinking about you, could prepare him from this.

You slowly aligned him with your folds and nodded, wanting him to make the first move.

He let out a pained sigh and gripped your waist, finally pushing in you.

You were still wet from the foreplay and as well as your cum, but it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some pain from his thickness.

He moved slowly, his breath fanning your cheeks while he brushed his nose against your skin.

“How does it feel?” Sunghoon whispered in your ear “Mh? Tell me, Y/N.”

Your skin was sweaty and hot, “So good.” You murmured back, tightening your hold on his neck “Faster, please.”

You begged him so sweetly and politely he couldn’t refuse, his hips moving against yours slightly faster “You want to make love?” He questioned “Or do you want me to take you like how I’ve wanted since I laid my eyes on you?”

“Take me.” You choked out, your eyes squeezing from the pleasure “Hard, I don’t care.”

Sunghoon circled your waist with his arm and held you tightly against him, you could feel the shadow of his scar on your chest.

His hips snapped on yours so fast even the bed started creaking, and you secretly hoped no servant was walking by to hear your show.

“Open up.” Sunghoon said and you obliged, opening your mouth.

He gathered some saliva in his mouth before spitting in yours, watching as it went down your throat.

You hummed, gulped it, tasting him “Jesus Christ.” He shook his head, his cock twitching inside of you.

“I don’t think I can last longer.” He squeezed his eyes, his fingers digging in your hips as he tried to restrain himself.

“Don’t you dare unless I cum again.” Your fingers went to stroke your bundle of nerves fast “Together.”

Sunghoon hummed, his own movements getting sloppy but never faltering as he chased his high.

“Y/N.” He groaned, one of his nails piercing your skin, adding just the right amount of pain to send you over the edge.

“Now!” You cried out, your body shaking with your second orgasm of the night.

Sunghoon let out a deep growl and emptied his seed in you, coating your clenching walls.

“So perfect.” He kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing after the intensity of the night “You’re perfect.”

He got up and took a napkin from your table, carefully cleaning your legs while also prepping kisses on your inner thighs.

You were sure that if your body wasn’t tired you would’ve mounted him.

Sunghoon reached into his clothes but your hand darted out to stop him “Stay.”

His eyes softened, pondering between staying or leaving. He opted for the first.

You had never felt happier than falling asleep with the sound of his heartbeat next to your ear, aimlessly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

But your relationship made it so that he was forced to peel himself away from you when he thought you were asleep, gathering his clothes and quietly slipping out of your room.

And it was the best decision, soon, you would’ve had to find a husband, make an heir for your real, rule it with all your attention.

Good thing, late night was made to unwind, and it never happened if nobody knew… did it?

[leilawanderingaround]

Having brainrot about Yandere Phainon again... I should go see my therapist.

"I will have to reject you, fair lady. For I already have someone waiting for me beyond this wall."

Phainon- the ever gentleman, kind hearted hero of Okhema has many suitors on his tail be it man or women but it is undeniable that he only has eyes for one person only.

This person is considered the biggest mystery of Okhema. They would occasionally catch Lord Phainon gaze ever so lovingly at a locket but would soon put it away after noticing he was being watched.

Even the Tribios were curious enough to ask him. The deliverer would only shyly chuckle, scratching his neck. "It is someone I left behind at Aedes Elysiae. I hope to reunite with her one day."

Hearing that they would pale and soon apologies. All people know that Aedes Elysiae was destroyed by the black tide. Its fate is left undiscovered to most people. Only a few people know what truly happened to Aedes Elysiae and the supposed beloved of the saviour of Amphoreus.

"Still mourning for her, deliverer?" While most of the time, Mydei would have knocked or raised his voice to announce his arrival. Today was quite different. To lock oneself in a room of the departed and forbid everyone else from going inside on the day of their death anniversary is quite rude. Especially when it's you.

The crown prince carefully picked the lock on the door before gently opening it to walk inside. Not wanting to affect anything that belonged to you.

"Mydei, sorry but I am not in the mood to banter with you today" Phainon said, still not turning from your bookshelf to face his friend-rival.

"Hm, not like I am here to fight you. Where is it?" Mydei shook his head. Now is clearly not the time for such a thing, even he knows that. "Her locket as well as her weapon. Aglaea told me you kept them, handed them over."

"Surely the crown prince of Kremnos would know better than to ask for something that is not his" Phainon still keeping that nonchalant attitude, turn around to smile at Mydei.

The crown prince has to stop himself from hitting the deliverer on the face. After all, they have promised Aglaea to not wrought havoc on a day such as this. "Well, it is not my kingdom that killed her."

"She is not dead" Of course that sentence alone was enough to anger Phainon.

Mydei let out a huff, crossing his arms "Right, right, as if being frozen in time, waiting for her death is any different than truly dying."

"Mydei, we have talked about this. Once the prophecy is completed, she can be rid of Oronyx's influence and return to Okhema. Let's not lose hope, my friend." Phainon said, lending an olive branch to the crown prince. A final act of putting down the flame of hate between the two.

"She does it all for you. Betray her god, sacrificing herself, and frozen Aedes Elysiae in time. To save your home, family and dear friend. I can only hope you return her as much as she has give, Phainon." Mydei said, reaching Phainon's side and took the bow near him- your weapon before walking out. "Priest of Oronyx, helping Kephale's soldier, how laughable"

Phainon watched as Mydei left the room, his hand held tight onto your locket "You don't have to worry. For her..."

"I'm willing to forsaken my tilte as the hero and burn Amphoreus down just to see her again..."

[rinsanityy]

phainon is no stranger to being a gentleman. whenever the two of you are spending time with one another, he would always be the one to treat you whether it was to lunch or even shopping in the local market. you'll always find his hand pressed to the small of your back but while weaving through crowds, he's got his arm wrapped around your shoulder in order not to lose you in the mass of people. this man is willing to give you the royalty treatment simply because you deserve it. when phainon finds himself deep in his thoughts, you will always be lingering at the back of his mind, and he unconsciously smiles at the mere thought of you.

despite her heart that had long been frozen, aglaea does not fail in the romance department. if you find yourself in the heroes' bath, she will tend to whatever needs you may have and even accompany you during your stay. if she happens to find the time, she will use it wisely and sew a brand new garment just for you. she has already wrapped it up and will hold onto it until she sees you again. the warmth you give by simply being by her side is so unfamiliar yet it is enough to begin thawing her frosted heart.

for the crown prince of castrum kremnos, mydei isn't exactly known for having a kind nature. regardless of his intimidating appearance, it's quite obvious that the prince has grown to have a soft spot for you. if there is someone causing you trouble, mydei will appear by your side and he's already scared the person off with merely one sentence. sometimes the two of you would engage in playful banter, countering the other’s teasing remark with another. mydei will never succumb to fatigue in the midst of battle for he always reminds himself that you are waiting for him on the other side.

being the first chrysos heir to obtain a titan's coreflame and ascend to that of a demi-god, tribbie finds themselves to be somewhat of a mentor figure towards the others. if they ever find out that you're not feeling well, they will make sure to remind you to always take care of yourself. they are always happy to educate you about various topics as they take joy in being able to talk for hours and having someone listening to them intently. it is only natural for the teacher to worry about their student’s well being, how else will they be able to continue guiding you if you’re not in a stable condition to be guided?

she may have no experience whatsoever about romance but that doesn't mean castorice refuses to try and learn. she takes interest in the things that bring you joy and will remember the smallest and most random things about yourself. although her power restricts herself from making any physical contact with you, castorice makes sure to keep you safe and free from harm's way. each passing moment that she spends with you, castorice cherishes each and every one all the same. the servant of death is no stranger to the inevitable fate that awaits you but she cannot even bring herself to think about that when you were so intertwined in the present.

a genius and a charmer basically sums up the kind of person that anaxa is. he is always amused to see you fascinated whenever he displays the unique magic that he holds. similar to tribbie, he is fond of teaching you things without making you feel dumb. he dislikes whenever you downplay your intelligence and assures you that you're talented and intellectually capable in your own way. anaxa is a firm believer that every little part of your being is fascinating, it makes him inclined to continue finding out more about who you are.

hyacine always finds herself pleased to see how well you respond to her affection. although a little shy at first, she is willing to try different things with you. after a tiring day, hyacine simply wants to lay down on a sturdy branch of a big tree with you beside her, watching the birds soar through the sky while the suns fall and stars rise. the priest does not know what future lies in store but what she does know is that one day, when you two have passed on, you will take to the skies beside one another and soar to the stars.. just like the birds the two of you have watched do all the time.

just like how she has a talent for swiping people's valuables, cipher sure has a talent for stealing your heart. seeing as you're already aware of her skill of sleight, you find yourself wondering which poor citizen she swiped whenever you receive a gift from her. although a thief should never linger too long around their target, cipher cannot refuse any request of physical touch from you. you don’t expect much out of the aftermath of a bad day, at least not until a certain thief shows up at your doorstep and greets you with a flower or two that had been swiped from one of the largest flower fields that amphoreus has to offer.

note: written before version 3.1 therefore some if not most characters are ooc. tribbie’s scenario is purely platonic, otherwise the rest of them can be intepreted as romantic or platonic.

©rinsanityy 2025 do not plagiarize or repost my content.

[pondermoniums]

AU where Gaius being convicted and sentenced to death is Merlin's breaking point.

He doesn't confront Uther about it because there's no point, but he does tell Arthur that he can't let Gaius die. If Gaius goes, so does Merlin. Arthur tries to apologize; the matter is out of his hands, he's only the prince, etc.

But on the day of the pyre burning, Gaius doesn't burn. He vanishes right out of his cell, guards in a coma, they're so knocked out, and Camelot wakes up to the pyre burning but they're confused because the burning wasn't supposed to happen until noon.

Arthur wakes up to see a crown on his table, waiting for him.

Uther Pendragon is nowhere to be found. Nor is Merlin.

[flowerofbenevolence]

Twisted Wonderland Housewardens with a LP! Athanasia! Reader

This is a gift for @blues824, who inspired me with their amazing work, specifically their headcanons. This was also originally going to be a request, but since they are currently on a hiatus, I decided to make this myself.

Preface: Once upon a time, you were the unloved, ignored, and abandoned second princess of the Empire of Obelia. The nobles would always mock you for being the daughter of the emperor and a mere dancer. Even your father, the cold-hearted Emperor Claude De Alger Obelia, utterly despised you since you had killed your mother during childbirth. Your older half-sister, Crown Princess Jeanette, on the other hand, was beloved by all for her beauty, kindness, and being the daughter of the emperor and a high-ranking noble and was often heralded as "The Lovely Princess". In the end, when you were framed for poisoning your lovely older sister, your cruel father sentenced you to death, only for you to be reincarnated into the magical world of Twisted Wonderland.

I used to read the manga, "Who Made Me a Princess" a long time ago and dropped it during the chapters when Claude lost his memories. One day, I will return to it.

Riddle was absolutely stunned by your beauty the very moment he laid eyes on you. With your platinum blonde locks, delicate, fair complexion, and of course, jeweled blue eyes, you were most definitely the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. But of course, being a strict and serious control freak, he often yelled at you for breaking rules and associating with idiots like Ace and Deuce. He would never admit it, but he was jealous that someone as gorgeous and graceful as you would choose to associate with such imbeciles rather than him.

After his overblot, however, he found that his infatuation with your beauty and grace become a much deeper, more passionate, true love for you. You understood his pain of being a misunderstood, heartbroken little boy with a strict, abusive mother more than anyone else did, and never blamed him for becoming a monster. Sevens, you had even cried tears of heartbreak and empathy alongside him! Apparently, you were not just pretty on the outside, but beautiful within as well. And for that reason, he would always in debt, and in love, with you.

He seriously never understood why you were always so gloomy and withdrawn. Every time he or someone tried to compliment or praise you, you would always respond in such a self-deprecating way that it broke his heart. Didn't you know just how lovely you were? Something in him told him that something terrible must have happened to you for you have such low self-esteem.

He was utterly horrified when you told him about your past. He had his own fair share of heartless parents, to have been executed at the hands of your own father . . . how could someone be so cruel!? It didn't take long before his shock became fury. How dare - How dare someone do such horrid things to you - the loveliest rose of the field!?

"Oh, my rose . . . what terrible things you have endured! Don't worry, while you weren't the lovely princess of your past life, while you aren't a princess anymore, while you are technically nonexistent in this world, you will always be The Lovely Princess to me - no - you will be the Wonderful White Queen!"

When Leona first laid eyes on you, he pretended not to care, but don't be fooled. His eyes widened slightly upon perceiving such beauty, before later returning to sleep, allowing your face to plant itself into his mind like a seed. He had seen beautiful women before, but never one with eyes like jewels. Immediately, he ordered Ruggie to do research on jeweled eyed people and was infuriated when he came back empty-handed. He just had to know more about you and your kind.

After your saved him from his overblot, it would be safe to say that his deep fascination with your eyes became an intense, powerful love. You had a pure soul that had purified his, and he would always be enamored with you for it. However, just because you had a pure soul didn't mean you were completely pure and innocent of all the evil in the world. He could see that with the depressed and sullen manner of which you carried yourself. Upon asking you about it, he surprisingly was unsurprised to know that you had lived a terrible life in the past, full of humiliation, a malevolent father, and a negligent older sister. He also wasn't surprised to know that you had been a princess. It honestly kind of explained the sophisticated manner you conducted yourself with. The only thing he was shocked about was the fact that you had died, specifically executed, and came back to life. However, surprised or not, that didn't mean that Leona's blood didn't boil. He had his own experiences with being in the shadow of your older sibling, but to have been sentenced to death because of it? That was a whole other level of cruelty.

"Oh, kitten . . . I can't imagine all of the things you went through. Always know that while I'm unable to make you an empress, you'll always be the lovely princess in my heart."

Unlike the others, upon laying eyes on you, Azul couldn't care less about your looks. Or at least, not yet. Instead, he legit thought that because you had jeweled eyes, you had the ability to cry jewels, and he wanted to make a profit out of it. Imagine his disappointment when he found out you couldn't. It was, however, after that he started to take in consideration your appearance. With your ethereal, otherworldly beauty that rivaled Vil's, he decided to try and turn you into a model and make money off you from there. Imagine his disappointment when you refused.

He honestly had no clue why you were so insecure. Couldn't you see how beautiful you were!? It threw him into a jealous rage. You should have been grateful. Afterall, some people, such as himself, grew up being mocked for being ugly, and people like you were far more than fortunate. However, something inside him just commanded him to find out more about you, and what caused you to be so sorrowful.

He found out shortly after the two of you started dating, which was after he fell in love with you for saving his life following his overblot. His heart broke knowing all of the things you must have endured as the unloved second princess of Obelia. He wanted to find that wicked father of yours and make him sign a contract that would bind him to the very bottom of the sea even if he lived in another world. How dare someone hurt his angelfish like this!?

He also began to wonder if he was good enough for you. Regardless of how hated you were in your first life, you were still a princess. He, on the other hand, was the son of a mere restaurant owner as well as an unsightly octo-mer. However, when you assured him that you loved him and that he was more than worthy of you, he started crying tears of joy. Oh, he would have destroyed the entire malevolent empire of Obelia if you simply asked.

When Kalim first saw you, you reminded him of his favorite jewel back at home. He immediately began bombarding you with questions. Where did you get those contact lenses? Why were your eyes jeweled? Were there other jeweled eye people in your world??

It was only when he saw how uncomfortable you were that he stopped. However, that didn't mean that like with everyone, he tried to be friends with you. He honestly was very confused at how fragile and anxious you were. Did he do something wrong? Why were you avoiding him? Why did you evade everyone? But following Jamil's advice, later stopped.

Speaking of Jamil, following the events of Book 4, Kalim found himself falling for you. You had revealed to him the wicked conspiracy of his most trusted companion. You had comforted him and offered advice during his time of grief and feelings of betrayal. But most of all, in stark contrast to your usually cowardly disposition, had saved the life of his friend.

When you told him about your past, he initially refused to believe you and thought you were joking. Executed at the hands of your own father? You must be pretending to be a novel protagonist. There was no way anyone in the world could possibly be that evil, right? It wasn't until he saw you crying that he realized you were being dead serious. Guilt and horror immediately flooded his heart as he began apologizing nonstop and comforting you. He couldn't believe someone as lovely and loving as you, had gone through something so terrible. Sevens, he couldn't even believe that someone as innocent and graceful as you, was related to a monster! He promises that for as long as he lives, he would make the happiest girl alive until his kindness rivals the cruelty of that wicked father of yours.

When he first laid eyes on you, he could feel the claws of envy digging deeply into his heart. With your delicate, fairy-like facial features and ocean blue gemstone-like eyes, you most definitely were the fairest of all, even topping Neige in all his glory. So, without a shadow of a doubt, he was hatefully, painfully jealous of you. First, he had Neige, and now he's got you.

His resentment only worsens when he sees how shy and gloomy you are. Afterall, insecurity does imply wasting potential and a lack of tenacity, and Vil hates those who put no effort into improving themselves. Yet something inside him made him feel guilty to be harsh on you. He couldn't understand. Surely this was because he found your beauty irresistible, even if you didn't see it.

After you saved and forgave from overblot, however, his perception made a 180. He began to believe that you were an angel who was not only beautiful, but humble as well, and merciful despite the evils of the world. The only thing that remained the same was his confusion towards your insecurity. Didn't you know how honored he was to be in your presence? Didn't you know how precious you were???

He was absolutely heartbroken when you told him about your past. Unlike Kalim, he knew for a fact that you were not joking because of all the tears that stained your face, and because he's an actor who knew when people were telling a story or not.

"Oh, you poor thing! That evil emperor doesn't deserve to have such an amazing woman like you as his daughter! Always remember, meine liebe, that you are precious and no one in this world can compare with your beauty both inside and out!"

He's also deeply irritated by the story of "The Lovely Princess". How disgustingly trashy! Not only is the main protagonist wayyyy too boring and bland, but she made you suffer alongside your father! If it were to be a movie, play, or TV show, he wouldn't play it even if it was the last chance he got to play the main protagonist.

(Before reading Idia's part, please know that I have not finished Book 6 and am not very familiar Idia's character, so this mayyyy be inaccurate.)

OMG! She looks like a waifu from a manga or anime! Is what he thinks when he first lays eyes on you. You were just so beautiful, you had to an isekai protagonist (and you are!) Your eyes were so glamorous, they couldn't possibly be real! But, of course, being the otaku shut-in he is, he never had the audacity to ask you about where you got your contacts. As a result, he was stuck admiring you from afar.

His crush on you only grew as he saw how much of an introvert you were. You were constantly surrounded by people who told you to have more confidence in yourself, that it reminded him of himself and Ortho. As a result, he strongly empathized with you and your struggle, and that connection was just watered the flower of his love.

When you told him about how you were executed by your father in your past life, he honestly felt like summoning S.T.Y.X.'s forces to blow up the Obelia Empire. Let those sucker normies rot in Tartarus! How dare they harm his waifu like this!? He caresses your cheek, assuring you that while you didn't manage to become the Lovely Princess, you would always be his Persephone.

(Again, since I have not finished Book 6, I have not even STARTED Book 7)

When Malleus first laid eyes on you, not only did he fall head over heels in love at first sight, but he also thought you were a fellow fairy. He was very surprised when he saw your round human ears. who knew humans could be so beautiful? Not to mention how your eyes looked like jewels and dragons loved shiny treasures. Either way, he fell ardently infatuated with you for being the first person to not fear him.

He was honestly very intrigued to see that you were a very shy person. People normally avoided him about of fear, but you normally avoided people out of fear. It was kind of like opposites attract. He, who yearned for friendship despite being feared like a monster was in love with you, who yearned for loneliness despite attracting attention with your beauty.

He also grew suspicious of your status as a commoner when he saw how sophisticated your manners were. You carried yourself with poise and grace, like how a future empress was taught to do. Of course, he wouldn't dare accuse you of lying to him, but he began to wonder if there was more to the story.

When you told him about your past as the abandoned princess of Obelia, a storm started brewing as he prepared to strike down the entire wretched empire of Obelia. How dare someone harm his Y/N!?

"Oh, my dear . . . How dare someone do that to you!? And your one and only kindred at that! Curse that treacherous father of yours! Don't worry. With me, you will forever be safe and happy. Anyone who dares to offend you shall face my wrath. I will make sure of it."

When you tell him that you told him you were a commoner instead of an (abandoned) princess because you were ashamed of that fact that you were the abandoned princess of a kingdom that didn't exist in this world and that your mother was a commoner, he tells you,

"Oh, darling, that's nothing to be ashamed of. I will always love you even if you are a peasant."

[girlwiththoughts13]

The Blackest Green

Aemond Targaryen x F!reader/ Daemon Targaryen x F!reader

Warnings: Incest/ P in V /infidelity/ Age-gap/Minor breeding kink/

Word count: 4k

~~~~~

Aemond Targaryen was an intellectual. The cost of being the object of his elder brother and young nephews jests, was that there was no place he could turn to. With no dragon, no companions, no love, his studies of the histories, his mother tongue and his extensive training with the sword, soothed the ache of his inadequacy.

As well as the shameful lusting of his half-sister Rhaenrya's child. He couldn't recall when he developed these feelings for the girl but he knew he resented himself for it. She was the only one of Rhaenrya's children that inherited valyrian features. Sliver hair that you always wore in a simple braid in order to allow the rest of your locks to flow long down your back, striking violet eyes that looked straight through anyone who gazed into them. You were a mystery to him. He couldn't tell whether you were a bastard or the true born daughter of Laenor, as it seemed Rhaenyra had made you all on her own. However, your beauty went beyond your mother's, it was fact in his mind that no one would ever be able to compare. When you smiled or your eyes met his, his chest burned, his heart attempting to free itself from the confines of his chest and jump into your hands. Regardless, you were the enemy to Aemond and he would not allow himself to fully indulge in these sinful thoughts, your brothers were menaces and although you never participated in his humiliation he had no doubt you were just as savage as the rest of them.

After his eye was taken his hatred grew for Rhaenrya and her bastard children, but as much as he tried, this hatred did not extend to you. To compensate for the immeasurable loss and to eliminate any strife between the families a marriage pact between Aemond and Rhaenrya's daughter was made. Although deep down they all knew that this would not uphold the weight of the growing divide.

You were allowed to journey back to Dragonstone with the rest of your family, only being 10 summers old, it was agreed that you would not wed until you flowered.

That day came at the age of 5 and 10. On the dock leading to your ship, Your mother, the crowned heir stood tall in front of you, looking to you as the great leader you knew she'd be. But you could tell by her misty eyes and the slight tremble in her movements, sending you away to the greens was breaking her heart as it was yours. It was not your desire to leave and be thrown to the wolves who would surely tear you apart for the blood that ran through your veins.

"You must be strong, my girl, you are my heir, the future queen of the seven kingdoms, don't forget that and don't let them forget it either" You nodded hastily as she brought you into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder you locked eyes with your step-father Daemon who had fought very hard to break this betrothal but to no avail. His hand rested on the pommel of Dark sister knuckles white with tension. Daemon had spent these many years on Dragonstone teaching you.. about everything. He said it was to prepare you for the land you would one day rule. He gave you a curt nod which you knew was his way of saying goodbye without all the sentiments. Rhaenrya slowly detached herself from you in a way that let you know she didn't want to. She brought her hand to your check and softly stroked the skin there, staring deeply into your eyes to commit you to memory. There was a very real possibility she would not be seeing you for years to come.

"We won't be there for the ceremony but I'll be in here every step of the way, I promise" She rested her free hand on your heart as a tear slid down your face.

"Goodbye mother"

Being married to the one-eyed prince was not at all the death sentence your brothers had made you to believe it was. It was simply fine. Your arrival to kingslanding was well received and your wedding celebrations were beautiful. No expense was spared for the favorite child of Queen Alicent, no matter how insignificant his station was as a second son. Somewhere along the lines you and Aemond found a way to coexist in peace..in a semblance of care. You would break your fast together, watch him train, ride your dragons and perform your martial duties. Marriage had at last allowed Aemond's heart to open the door to the room that was always meant for you. He knew that you cared for him but it was your love he was after and he had no doubt he'd successfully receive it one day. In the one year you were married your womb did not bare the evidence of his seed, however, he had much fun with the process of conceiving a babe, therefore there were no complaints from him. He instead took this time without children to learn about you as you were. Your favorite color, flower, time of day. You would humor him only when you felt like It; you were greedy with your time and attention, mainly spending that with your grandsire. When he died it broke your heart you had much love for the man and would visit him regularly. But there was an eagerness to ride and alert your mother yourself of her new title of Queen.

One tug at the locked doors of your chamber and you knew what you tried so hard to ignore. Mere hours later Aemond entered your chambers, you wasted no time rushing over to him before he even fully closed the door, grabbing his lapels and pulling him close.

"Tell me what has happened and don't lie to me" Tears were already pressing against the back of your eyes.

"Viserys is dead" Aemond turned into the fearsome man that everyone knew him as, cold and unyielding. "Aegon will be his successor" The moment the words left his lips you released your hold and let out a sharp gasp as if someone had knocked the air from your lungs. "He will be crowned before the masses as his family stands behind him-loyally" You look up at his insinuation that you'd ever support that drunken fool. A scoff escapes you.

"Do you think I will stand behind a usurper? My mother is the rightful Queen and I her heir" Your voice gaining more volume as you spew the proclamations.

He hand reaches out for your arm, pulling you harshly to him "You're my wife, you will stand beside me, without argument" Though you give no further fight, you rip your arm away and turn toward the bed. Aemond lets you go, granting you some reprieve.

Unlike Princess Rhaenys you were not able to escape. Aemond was highly paranoid and had kept you with him at all times. Going as far as moving you into his chambers; Although he was gone for most of the day with you locked within the room with nothing but the walls and your own thoughts as company. Alicent visited you once, attempting to coax you to see things from her point of view. You told her that her and her false king could go fuck themselves.. she never returned.

Night fell and with it came harsh winds that rattled your windows. You regularly added more wood to the hearth to keep yourself warm. It was there you found yourself when Aemond entered the chamber. His steps were erratic and his breaths uneven. "Has anyone been in here?!" Gone was his usually calm and quiet voice replaced with a manic tone. "The door only opens by your hand husband" you answered sarcastically. Your humor vanished at once when he hasty made his way to Maegors tunnels ensuring they were still sealed. You stared into his back remaining seated. "Has something happened?" It was as if he forgot you were there with the way he jumped to you.

He walked quickly and kneeled before you. Hands resting on your hips. "You must know it was not my intention... Vhagar she just.. she wouldn't listen to me anymore..you see" He whispered his eye trained on your stomach. You placed one hand on top of his. "Okay, okay, I hear you, tell me" you were gentle with your voice and touch, understanding this was what he needed from you. Aemond inhaled deeply and finally looked up.

"I killed Lucerys"

The world turned early quiet which then gave way to a ringing so loud it drowned out whatever he was saying. You saw his lips moving fast before your eyes began to blur. His hands beneath yours suddenly burned, so you pulled away from him all together, standing. Your weight was too much for your shaking legs, you made it all of two steps before collapsing, forehead pressed into the ground, mouth beginning to let out pained wails. Your little brother, too kind, too gentle, dead and in such a violent way. Aemond crouched beside you and put his hand on your back wanting nothing more than to comfort his wife. You crawled away from him, screaming all the while. "Get away from me!!"

You made it to your vanity using it as a crutch to lift yourself from the floor. You made quick work of grabbing the small dagger hidden beneath the furniture, the one Daemon had gifted you on your 2 and 10th nameday. You pointed the dagger at him. "I'll kill you". Lunging for Aemond with the intent to kill but no real power behind it. He grabbed your arms and held them high above both of you. "I'm so sorry, my love, stop" Retraining you was no real struggle for him. The dagger dropped to the floor as the fight continued. When he released your hands your palms opened flat against his chest as you pushed him, then again, then a slap across his cheek "Kinslayer" push, slap, "Fight back!" you yelled straining your voice. Wrestling a bit to lower your arms he crushed you into an embrace holding you there as you cried and squirmed. His head rested on the top of your own, whispering apologies.

Since then you scarcely saw Aemond. He avoided you like the plague not wishing to see the anger and hatred in your eyes. You were at abed when your doors were thrown open. You sat up immediately knowing Ameond would never enter your rooms in such a way. The stench of wine and debauchery that was Aegon's signature scent invaded your nostrils. He stumbled his way over to you, calling your name, laughing all the while.

Aegon took a seat at the end of your bed and extended his upper body to you. "Sweet sister, are you not so lonely without your dear husband?"

"What is it that you want Aegon?" In no mood to entertain his idiotic tendencies.

Ever the jester on a mission to embarrass his little brother at every turn, Aegon retold the accounts of his late night adventure in the city. How he went into a brothel and found Aemond curled up in the arms of the madame of the establishment like a new born-babe. It was nice he said how Aemond still found himself with his first woman. It was at times difficult to understand with the crude words and his growing laughter. By the time he was done he had gotten drowsy enough to lay his head down. The soft snores that emitted from his mouth let you know he was down for the night. Aemond the kinslayer, Aemond the unfaithful husband. How much could you take of the shame he forced upon you. With a new determination you knew the fool had left the door unlocked and as Aemond assured the kingsguard there was no way for you to exit, it was unguarded.

Cannibal wouldn't have been tamed into the dragonpit. There was no point attempting to find him there. He wouldn't be to far either, not without his rider. In the long hallways, you pulled your common looking cloak around your self tighter, paying special care to hide your sliver locks. Sending a quick prayer to your gods you pushed open the chamber and it gave way without fuss. Entering you made swift strides to the tunnels in Daemon's old chambers. Once again opening with just a shove.

Somehow you made it to water, a little off from the docks to avoid being seen. When you bring your pointer and middle fingers into your mouth you ready yourself to make it worth it, you let out a loud whistle. There won't be a second chance until people come looking for the source. A beat of silence passes than another. Suddenly you hear the distinct flapping of wings and the wind blowing harsher in your face. Thank the gods cannibal does not let out a roar, as if he's aware of the delicacy of the situation. When he lands at your feet, lightly as he can, you break for his back to climb atop him. Once properly situated he flys high above in the sky, no commands leave your lips but you know where he's taking you, home.

Rhaenrya was restless. The loss of her son and the enslavement of her only daughter. The taking of her throne, her inheritance. The greens had taken so much from her. And yet she still hoped foolishly to avoid war. It was a tiring thing keeping Daemon at bay. He smelled blood. As if he didn't already want Aemond Targaryen's head on a stick for taking you from him, now he has murdered Luke and Rhaenrya was doing nothing about it. He was fully prepared to fly to the red keep and bring you home. It's this same argument he brings to the war room, hovering over the painted table.

"I can go personally. No one will expect my arrival" Daemon is determined facing his new Queen. Jace stands between Baela and Rhaena believing no one to be as affected by your absence than his step-father. "Yes because no one would do something this rash Daemon" Rhaenrya counters. "If we send anyone at all it should not be someone of your high station Prince Daemon" Rhaenys wisely counseled. This meeting was one for those who shared blood, no other lord was present in the room which Rhaenrya was glad of.

"She's the heir to iron throne the longer we wait the faster they''ll kill her" His words were rough to convey the urgency. "Alicent will not kill my daughter" There was still faith in her heart that their friendship during youth held importance to Alicent. "Oh just like she wouldn't take your birthright Rhaenrya? Or kill your son?!" A feign chuckle followed by a huff of bitter words

"Enough! She's my daughter Daemon, Mine and I have decided there's nought to be done for the time being" Rhaenrya commanded the room as now was her right, Rhaenys let the corner of her lip curl forward at the prince's reprimanding. Daemon gives the Queen a cold stare before stomping out of the room.

Rhaenrya sighs while turning to her son walking toward him. "I will bring your sister home, I have not abandoned her, but there are right and wrong paths to go about it and Daemon's way is the wrong one" Jace always thought that all of Daemons 'ways' were the wrong way, he gave a nod to his mother "I know mother, I know"

"DRAGON!!" Knights scurried around the fortress attempting to arrange the scorpion with haste. "Alert the Queen now!"

Grateful that she had not gone to bed after her spat with Daemon, The Queen made her way to the top of the watch towers to oversee the scorpions. They were in position and awaiting her command. Her violet eyes scanned the skies when she spotted the dragon and their rider. A strangled cry escaped her "Stop! It's my daughter!", The knights made quick work to dismantle the weapon "Stand down it's the princess"

Rhaenrya practically ran down the steps. She felt as if her eyes were deceiving her and you'd vanish once again. She stopped a foot away from you as you climbed down your dragon. There was a pause when you hit the sand, taking each other in before you both ran into each others arm. She pressed your head into the top of her breast holding you there, rocking you gently back and forth. "Oh my girl, my sweet girl" She grabbed the sides of your face with both hands looking you all over "Are you hurt?"

"No mother, I'm okay, I'm home" You cried, tears falling.

Rhaenrya and her daughter made their way back into the castle, hand in hand. The queen leading them back to the war room, where she instructed a guard to alert her family to gather. The weight in your chest disappeared when the door gave way and you knew you were in the presence of your true family. Jace spotted you first and stepped forward to wrap you in his arms. He stepped aside to allow your cousins Baela and Rhaena to give you quick embraces followed by "I'm glad you're safe cousin".

Your mother tugged you to her side once again to assure herself you were safe.

A moment passes, all cries and laughs, when the door crashes open. Daemon wordlessly moves forward into the room making a beeline for you. He brings his arms around you when your within reach and stares into the eyes of Rhaenrya over you shoulder while having you in his hold, still upset you had to make your escape all on your own which could have resulted in your death. He turned his head so that his words would only reach your ears.

"Gōntan pōnta renigon ao" Did they touch you? Daemon does not know what he would do if he hears of any wrongdoings brought upon you, his sweet dragon, his purest little girl. "Daor kepus" No uncle.

He steps back and allows you to be swept back into Rhaenryas arms.

It had taken a while to convince your mother that you would be okay in your chambers alone. There was no greater desire than to sleep in the safety of your acestral home and forget the war to come. You sat at your vanity in nothing but your shift combing your hair after a much needed bath. The warmth and weight of a palm fell on your shoulder, you shuddered.

"Kepus" you turned head and he moved his hand to catch your chin and tilt it up. Daemon had never seen such a beautiful sight. A siren if he ever knew one. He was convinced that you had bewitched him. His gentle niece, so eager to learn from her uncle.

"Skorkydoso gōntan ao jiōragon hen, gōntan aōha valzȳrys jikagon ao kesīr?" how did you get out, did your husband send you here? As much as he believed in your strength, he was surprised to see you escape on your own unscathed too. "Daorys iksin jurnegēre, nyke geptot" No one was looking, I left, you shrugged, there really was nothing more to it and It didn't matter now.

You stood to your full height but your uncle towered over you nonetheless. Daemon stared down at you with the same lust he did those few years ago. His hand came up to your shoulder once more this time dragging your sleeve down, freeing one of your breast. he repeated this action to the other, never breaking eye contact as your shift pooled around your feet. His big hand came around your jaw and his thumb stroked your lips softly, barely there. Hand falling down to your neck which he grasped tightly, jealously had a hold on him at the thought of the one-eyed bastard laying his filthy hands on your soft skin. Skin that belonged to him, that was made by him.

You came up on your tip toes in attempt to catch his mouth with yours but he pulled back slightly, a smirk gracing his face. He leans down and you turn your face so his lips meet your cheek which he delivers gentle kisses onto. When you face each other your noses brush together, not being to wait any longer you both press your lips together. His tongue invades your mouth reacquainting himself with your taste. His fingers lace into your moonlight hair, puling you more deeply into him, his other hand falls to your lower back, he lifts you and walks toward your bed where he drops you at the edge of it. You fall back on your elbows and watch as he kneels and brings his hands to the back of your thighs spreading your legs wide for him. He pounces at your center, like a man starved, eyes closing at your sweet essence swirling on his tongue. You throw your head back and let out a quiet moan. Daemon slowly brings one finger to your entrance teasing you before it slips in easily from your wetness and his salvia. He adds another as he sucks at your clit. A shriek rushes out with your building release. Just as you're about to jump off the edge he pulls aways and presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up. From the top of your mound, to your belly, collarbone, neck, jaw, cheek, and when his bulky body that covers yours entirely rests between your legs he smashing his lips on yours once more.

Your fingers rush out to undo his laces of his breeches and the ties on his loose shirt which he shrugs off promptly. Daemon lays atop you bare, his length gliding across your glistening cunt. "Aōha valzȳrys gaomas daor qogralbar ao sȳrī gaomas ziry?" Your husband does not fuck you well does he?

Thoughts of the whore he is coddled by invades your mind. Ever since you were girl you craved a man. You would not find Daemon in the arms of anyone much less a whore play-acting as a babe. No this man above you was all fire and blood in its truest form-and nothing made you more wet than the thought. He taps your cheek "Answer me" switching to common tongue.

"No Kepus, when he laid above me, I'd imagine it was you. I'd remember all the times you were inside me, how good it felt" You pant out. Daemon groaned at your words, pushing inside you. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, letting out a sharp gasp. Long has your shame gone of lying with your mother's husband; Especially when he thrusts hard instantly hitting the spot deep inside you that only he has ever reached. Daemon grunts when he removes himself from your warmth bringing his hands to your waist and flipping you around, dragging your hips up and smoothing a hand down your back, he puts his cock back inside you and begins rutting into you like an animal. You push back against him and he brings one hand around you to furiously rub at you clit. "Uh kepus I'm coming" You cry out. The wave of your orgasm is so intense you feel your cunt clench tightly in an attempt to squeeze him out of you. Daemon stuffs himself back in and chases his own release. "Iksan jāre naejot dīnagon ñuha rūs isse ao" I'm going to put my babe in you. "Everyone can see who you spread your legs open for".

"Yes! Kepus please finish inside me, I want your seed" With that and the tightening of your pussy, Daemon releases with a shout, his cock twitching inside you, seed coating your walls. When he pulls free you feel his seed run down your thighs and onto your fresh sheets.

Daemon moves to lay on his back and pulls you to his side so your head rest across his chest. His hand caresses your arm up and down, it's a nice comfortable silence, and in this moment you can both pretend that it is each other you are married too and there's no threat of war.

"Your soon to become a widow" He promises

"Good"

[goldenchocobo]

Here’s what I’ve been working on, it’s taken a month, but I’ve finally completed it!

All 13 14 Organization XIII members with flowers!

I did reuse some flowers; but I’ve been wanting to redraw those portraits for a while now, so I can cross that off the list too

Under the KEEP READING are the flowers included, along with why I chose them for that Organization Member.

- You've clicked the 'Keep Reading', so you're in for the long-haul; 14 flower analyses in one! Better get snug!

I. Anemone flowers (also called wind flowers) have a lot of meanings, more negative than good ones; the ones I singled out for Xemnas was death and loss. Flower meanings require a lot of context- like sentences, so in this instance, I’ve used ‘loss’ to mean ‘loss’ in a general sense- Xemnas lost his heart, his comrades, his emotions; and by the end of KHIII; even his motivation; saying he doesn’t really care for his comrades’ demises, and that after he’s gained any kind of sensation back; it’s regret.

II. Knowing Xigbar is keeping all kinds of secrets, and knowing them is his business, Snapdragons are perfect. White and purple denote the spiritual and mystic. Them covering his mouth means that he knows something you don't, and he won't tell you anything.

III. We don’t know much about Xaldin- or Dilan. But with how I interpret him and his actions; he’s someone who has been scorned before- or at least has a lot of jealous dislike towards relationships and is sickened by how love makes people act. Hydrangeas are a flower both used for some wedding bouquets, as well as denoting jealousy, especially in their purple-blue colouration, as it's higher pH that causes the flowers to be that colour.

IV. Azeleas are flowers of two halves. They can mean Temperance and intelligence, but also temptation and caution. This is why I thought it was perfect for Vexen. Not only does he give into the temptation of his (immoral) research- more than once, but also ignored the dangers of it. When he's recompleted, we can see that he's gotten rid of these temptations (or at least I hope so). I made them orange to deeper the 'danger' and 'caution' theme as orange is a colour in nature that denotes it- like toxic amphibians and insects.

V. Lexaeus is a quiet man; so I don't really know much about him other than that he's strong and wants to protect Ienzo/Zexion; as such gladiolus- a symbol of such strength and protection is perfect for him.

VI. Zexion is interesting because I kind of see him as a tragic two-sided character. His scheming, 'throwing morals out the window and toying with people' Zexion in CoM side, and his more naïve, innocent and caring Ienzo side we see in KH3. I gave him Begonias for this reason; the purple in one hand representing mystique and curiosity, whilst white being for a more innocent side to him. I specifically chose Begonia pavonina leaves because they look weird and mystic and kind of match his shimmering hair.

VII. I've already used yellow roses for Siax/Isa, in the same configuration as well; and the meaning remains the same. Yellow roses can sometimes mean jealousy- especially towards friendships. Siax got too into his head about Axel making friends. That was when his jealousy took over, and he was lead by it.

VIII. Axel has had Alestromeas before- as they usually mean strong bonds of friendship; something Axel and Lea has shown over and over again. Like with Siax, I chose to make them a crown to show that, that friendship and keeping those friends safe is what drives him.

IX. It was kind of hard to come up with a flower for Demyx. originally I had him with Geraniums as they can represent folly; but instead, I went with Daisies; with the adage, 'Lazy Daisy'- for obvious reasons. Daisies- or asters- come in a large variety and specie. For Demyx, I chose two for aesthetic purposes; common daisy for around his head, and leucanthemum daisy for his neck- for their size.

X. Finding the right flower for Luxord was difficult. I did originally just have him with clovers, but felt that they didn’t suit. I chose poppies instead, as while they’re known for being symbolic of war & peace, fallen soldiers and death, there’s an under-current of time meaning; time being passed while we sleep, the time we remember the departed, and time marching on until the grave.

XI. For the longest time, Marluxia was going to have roses- it’s his whole motif; there’s rose iconography everywhere. But I chose Magnolias due to their symbolism of remembrance. While not fully aware until the very end, Marluxia was always searching for his sister, not believing that she had gone. The yellow Magnolias represent the joys he shared with her, whilst the purple imply the dignity of being a Union Leader, and Lord of Castle Oblivion.

XII. Marigolds are pretty, but their meaning is not... sometimes. Out of their meanings, I've chosen their meaning for Larxene to be one of cruelty and coldness. Because that's what she is to everyone.

XIII. Roxas keep his Dahlias from his original flower piece. The meaning remains the same; That- even in the face of hardship and despair, he will remain kind, friendly and cheerful.

XIV. I was going to reuse the obvious choice of Forget-Me-Nots for Xion; but honestly, I felt intimidated by how small they are, and- if you've paid attention, kept a strict number limit on my flowers; so that wasn't doable. Instead, I chose a Cornflower, which has a similar meaning of not being forgotten, as well as hope, devotion and love.

-

The stones inlayed in the frames have no real significance other than that they match the character's colour scheme; Here's what each stone is: Xemnas: Pearl Xigbar: Smokey Quartz Xaldin: Amethyst Vexen: Emerald Lexaeus: (orange) Agate Zexion: Lepidolite Siax: Moonstone Axel: Sunstone Demyx: Sapphire Luxord: Hematite Marluxia: Rose Quartz Larxene: Topaz Roxas: Snowflake Obsidian Xion: Obsidian

OK- I lied a little; there's some theming between characters, but nothing majorly deep; I haven't really looked into gemstones and their meanings.

If you've read this much, congratulations! Flower Count: Xemnas has 13. Xigbar has 3. Xaldin has 1. Vexen has 7. Lexaeus has 5. Zexion has 13. Siax has 7. Axel has 7 Demyx has 20 (13 common, 7 leucanthemum). Luxord has 7. Marluxia has 5. Larxene has 5. Roxas has 7. Xion has 13.

The only outlier is Xaldin; but Hydrangeas are hard to draw and only had the motivation to draw one.

[pricklyjim]

AU Timeline Of History and Key

Events:

[Past]

• New Cybertron is thrown into chaos when Zeta Prime, the first Head Prime, is killed in an outer-world ambush attack.

•In the aftermath, the remaining Primes create a new government and caste system to restore balance.

• To help find a new leader, Primus creates the Primus Beacon, an artifact that can help the user identify the next Head Prime.

• Along with this, a song written by Primus and is discovered by Sentinel Prime, though the end of it is destroyed during the attack on New Cybertron. The remaining lyrics recalled only by Sentinel prime.

[Untouched Lyrics that were retained]

“To my children, I grant to you, The beacon of my holy truth. I have found one to bear the weight, For he alone can cleanse his plate. Let him lead, his vessel Is pure, Guided by vision, steady and sure. And along with him, a spark untamed, A fire that'll burn, wild, unclaimed."

[lyrics recalled by sentinel prime]

“A prime in red to lead the way, To banish darkness, keep it at bay. A silver knight, with moonlit might, Will bring ruin in the dead of night. A gladiator, mad and bold, Whose's scriptures will reshape the world.

The silver gladiator shall only fall, When the leader in red stands mighty tall.”

• The first barer of The Primus Beacon is chosen shortly after: that being Magnus. And during this time Magnus and the primes train Rodimus, helping him become the next Head Prime.

•During this time, Megatron and Orion are born into their separate lives, with Orion arriving slightly later than Megatron. As Orion grows, and becomes mid-age he becomes a scribe, and formally leaves his mentor Alpha Trion behind.

• Meanwhile: Megatron, After writing numerous books and poems dedicated to his Sire, about the struggles of the lower caste, is sentenced by the Government to be reborn and is sent to Kaon to fight in the pits.

• both Megatron and Orion gain fame during this time through their speeches and writings, with some observers noting that they share similar goals but have very different methods of achieving them.

•Rodimus is eventually crowned Head Prime, but with his coronation comes an uptick in Decepticon attacks, specifically targeting high-caste buildings.

•The Primes send Rodimus to kill Megatron alone to fulfill the prophecy told by Primus, but this leads to Rodimus's disappearance and assumed death.

• After a week, Magnus steps down, and Megatron is found in a square with the Primus Beacon permanently attached to his spark, standing over the bodies of the fallen Primes.

[Current Present]

• With the Primes gone, Megatron takes control and forms a new government. Meanwhile, Orion leads the Autobots in opposition to Megaton's rule, and due to this both factions claim equal territories on Cybertron, resulting in a tense stalemate and the current predicament of their shared leadership.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 7 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

chat what would be *your* reaction if you woke up and found agatha straddling you? (love that she has sensible pants under the skirt)

this is what sex after 50 looks like ladies, take notes

regular timeline: lilia has already joined the trial and was just doing a reading for billy.

lilia's pov: this is the first time she sees billy after he kinda sorta tried to kill her

this delivery from sasheer destroys me

lilia goes from anger to shock to recognition while billy reads her mind and responds to her thoughts

billy sounds so young here. of course he would have saved alice, if he could. of course he's reading her thoughts: he can't help it. he cannot help any of this. it's up to his coven to help and guide him, it was never the other way round.

now that the sigil is gone, lilia recognizes the lost boy from three years ago. not a scary monster, not the son of the scarlet witch. just a boy in a lot of trouble.

and look what jen does here. now that she knows what lilia's going through, she can step in and help her along

meanwhile agatha is making a scene, per usual. and lol she puts the hat back on, she really likes that outfit

love how jen is now 100% lilia's champion. same, girl, same

and jen being jen, she doesn't coddle or anything, she's very practical. she's like, hey girl, focus! you were in the middle of something important. I got your back and I'm going to fill the gaps for you. we can do this together.

yes I know babe the glinda halloween costume is cultural appropriation. could be worse. jen's dressed as snow white's fugly witch forchrissake.

does she have an eye on her crown? that's so neat

THIS shot. billy supporting lilia with his physical strength. jen supporting lilia with her no nonsense attitude. hell, even agatha just jumped in to save her from the falling sword.

agatha realising all that lilia did to protect billy. but also detective agnes getting another precious clue re: billy getting a new body.

lilia cast the sigil to protect billy from any external threats, and to give him the time to adjust to the shock of a new body and new life. again, lilia knew this was the son of the scarlet witch, someone that on paper terrified her. but when she actually met billy, she didn't see danger. she saw a young member of her own community in an impossible situation, and she stepped in. you know if she had met agatha as a teenager in salem she would have done the same thing.

pay attention now. lilia needs to find out what was her past/future self's mistake while reading for billy.

something interesting happens: while looking for answers, she jumps in rapid succession to episode 5 and episode 2. stop, stop, stop, stop, she repeats, like she is trying, for the first time, to direct her jumping. before, she was just a passenger. she's starting to become the Traveler

and where does she land? back to her maestra, where she can find answers to her current problem. she brought herself there, and only half accidentally.

and there's the crucial question.

che peccato, what a shame. a witch requires a coven.

the latin sentence on the table, in nave expeditus sis tam celer quam ventus, translates to something like "on a ship, may you be unimpeded and as fast as the wind". but there's another sentence in front of lilia, we can only read the first word behind her hand: mors. Death.

it's sure not going well now. despite the little step forward with jen, lilia still feels the odd person out, the one that's just too different to fit in. I know many of us, especially on this site, especially with our various but similar issues, have felt like that.

lilia's words are angry, resentful. but she's not angry, she's afraid. she's lashing out because looking in is too much. but like lilia herself said to alice: sad is better than angry.

when an actor gets that single tear forming in their eye... that's the good shit.

YOUR TASK IS NOT TO CONTROL, BUT TO SEE. you were born with a burden? turn it into power. if people don't accept you, show them what they were missing. do it in your own, unique way.

go to episode 7 part 4

[moriitis]

Knight!Toby Rogers. HCs. Medieval AU. 18+

¬ Comes from a very poor background, lived in the poorer district.

¬ His dad a drunk, his mother passed away during childbirth. Lyra had found work and gotten married, thus leaving him with his father.

¬ His dad nothing but a low life farmer who used what money he got on alcohol. Claimed he fought in the 'big war' but Toby never believed it. ¬ Finally snapped one night and killed his father in a fury of rage. When his fathers taxes weren't paid, the local guards discovered the murder. ¬ Toby is now labelled as a criminal and is sentenced to death. ¬ But the day of his execution, the King's Knight decides that Toby deserves a chance and convinces the King to send Toby to Knight school for the rest of his childhood; serving his sentence to be trained as a Knight. ¬ At the age of thirteen, he narrowly escapes the death sentence and is sent to Knight school. ¬ Knight school is rough and brutal and Toby faces countless bullying from the fellow boys due to his tics. Finds himself getting beat up a lot there, chased out into the woods or even spat on as they walked past. ¬ 'You'd never make it as a Knight.' They would sneer at him. ¬ Six AM starts, running until his lungs could collapse. They'd deny breakfast if you couldn't complete the laps around the fortress, which was perched atop a mountain. ¬ Many boys fell to their death, each morning a boy missing from the treacherous paths and rocky climbs. ¬ Three hours of learning the art of combat. Swords, axes, fist to fist. Each wound nothing but a lesson to become better. ¬ Toby finishes Knight school at the age of eighteen. ¬ He's immediately employed by the same King that spared his life, now finding himself in chains of loyalty to the crown. ¬ Toby is devoted to the crown and the King. ¬ He's put on wall duty, executions at first and ensuring safety within the kingdom and its citizens. ¬ But really proves his worth when he takes an arrow that was meant for the King, saving the King's life. ¬ Ranked up to now Knight for the King himself, attending high court meetings, the feasts and following him on horseback when needed so.

¬ Becomes nothing but a loyal dog. ¬ Upon his rank up, Toby shaves his head. A sign of his devotion to his king and a renewal of his vows as a Knight. ¬ A quiet, dead, brown eyed boy that lost his innocence young. ¬ Doesn't speak unless spoken to, but as the years tick on he will begin to advise for the King. ¬ Adding inputs in council meetings, helping avoid another great war. ¬ Becomes witty, smart and dangerous the more he works alongside the King. ¬ A small part within him desperate to be loved, looked after. ¬ A very broken shell of a man. ¬ Does not attend chapel as he is not religious.

Scenario...

You are the Princess/Prince. HCs.

¬ Loving you is strictly out of the question. It's forbidden, you were due to be married off to another. ¬ But Toby couldn't deny the feelings he felt each time you looked at him. Like he was being.. noticed? ¬ You looked through his armour, you saw nothing but a touch starved mutt. ¬ Each time he was instructed to guard you or accompany you, he'd feel such a sense of duty that weighed on him, greater than any other.

¬ Being near you, near your presence, it did things to him in a way he couldn't describe. ¬ Was it the lack of sex? ¬ He'd spent some nights in the brothels, but the idea of you, how wrong it would be. It lulled him in more. ¬ Each time you grazed fingers, he'd look at you in a way that longed for desire and you felt it too. ¬ He spent more time alone with you, even in the chapel. ¬ And he wasn't sure what happened, but now you were pinned against the chapel wall and he was helplessly attacking the flesh of your neck. ¬ And it wasn't just that instance where he'd taken you helplessly. ¬ The empty armoury, hell with it, the stable even. ¬ And it was wrong, so wrong, but the thought of it only encouraged him more. ¬ He'd watch in jealousy as your hand was given away, the thought to kidnap you and make him his own becoming a thought that kept him awake at night. ¬ How he could make it work, how he could be a good husband, how he could protect you.

[kettlefire]

Age is but a Number (DPxDC)

Daniel Fenton was only thirteen months old when he took his first steps. Only fifteen months old when he said his first words. He was two years old when he uttered his first sentence.

Danny could walk back his whole timeline from the moment he opened his eyes into this world. Except, none of those moments counted. They held no true weight for Danny's life.

No, there were certain moments that mattered. That had a clear shift to his life. Not every moment, not every milestone mattered.

Danny was five years old when he first felt the sting of disappointment at his parents missing a school event. He was six years old when the lab door was closed in his face for the first time, but not the last time.

He was eight when his young mind realized who was the one raising him. The one feeding him, waking him up, getting him dressed, and dealing with his tantrums.

Danny was ten when he learned to love and hate his parents for the true first time. Seeing both the good and the bad in them, and still loving them despite it.

He was eleven when he watched his sister crack under the pressure. Stood teary-eyed in the doorframe of her bedroom as he watched her cry and sob. He was twelve when he got into his first real fight with his mother, hiding away at Tucker's place for a few nights.

Danny was fourteen years old when he stepped into his parents' portal. When he accidentally hit the on switch. When a combination of ectoplasm and electricity ruined his life.

He was only fourteen when he experienced death for himself. Felt his life force leave him, and flood him at the same time.

Danny was still only fourteen when his world changed. New powers and abilities appear out of thin air. When a crazed billionaire latched on to him. When Danny had taken the mantel of a hero without meaning to.

He was still just fourteen when his life was filled with constant fighting. Both ghostly and human. Things got more tense between Danny and his mother. School was a weight that Danny wasn't sure he could handle.

Danny was fifteen when he had an existential crisis. The weight of a looming crown he was meant to take on the moment he turned eighteen or died fully. Having witnessed timelines where his family was gone. Having recognized a pattern of repetition in a life that Danny didn't want.

He was still fifteen when he made an impulsive decision. It was stupid and rash. Something expected from an angsty teenage boy, and not from an heir to a throne and a town to protect.

There had been no big fight. No big showdown. His parents still didn't know his secret. Danny hadn't bothered telling Tucker, Sam, or Jazz about his great plan. One moment, Daniel Fenton was in Amity Park. The next moment, he was gone without a trace.

Danny is just a fifteen year old boy, perched on a hill miles away from home. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was going to do. He didn't even know what state he was in.

He had just flown through the sky, a bag of emergency supplies slung over his shoulder. Danny had no intentions of stopping. That was until he stumbled cross a state line, and felt it.

A strong sense of caring and love. A feeling that Danny could only compare to the love he felt from Jazz. There was a strangeness in the air, but also a feeling of home. It drew Danny in like a moth to a flame.

Danny was just fifteen, curled up on a damp hill. Staring up into the night sky, and wishing for things to be different.

Not completely different. He didn't want to get rid of Phantom. Didn't want his life to go back to how it had been. Danny wanted things to get better. He wanted to feel like a kid again, something he realized he hadn't felt in a long time. Despite Jazz's best efforts to shield him.

The first tear had left Danny before he even realized it. A shaking hand wiped the tear away, silently cursing at himself for being such a baby.

Except that wasn't the only tear. It was like a dam, he never knew was there, had broken. Tears streaked down Danny's cheeks faster than he could wipe them away. Choked muffled sounds quickly turned to harsh gasping sobs.

Danny was only fifteen when he finally broke. Curled up on a random hill in a random state in the middle of nowhere. A glowing young teenager whose glow only seemed to dull with each gut-wrenching sob. Yet the stars seemed to twinkle even brighter than ever on this countryside.

So lost in the whirlwind of emotions that Danny was too young to fully decipher, he never noticed the approaching vehicle. Didn't so much as flinch when it came to a stop near him.

Danny's pain radiated with each sound he made. With each tear that left his toxic eyes. There was seemingly no end to it all. Until a single voice managed to pierce through Danny's bubble.

"Oh, dear... It's just a boy. Quick, grab a blanket!"

A small, frail voice was all it took. A voice weathered with age, and a tremble to it. Danny's whole body froze, head lifting to look at the speaker.

Except his vision had been quickly covered for a brief moment as an old flannel blanket was suddenly wrapped around Danny's shoulders. It smelt of dirt, hay, and warmth.

A kind old woman quickly followed to take a seat beside the glowing teenager. A warm, loving smile on her lips as she brought a thermos to Danny. An equally old and warm man seemed to follow behind her.

Danny's sobbing had quieted as quickly as it had started. The teen was completely bewildered, stunned to silence. This old couple, the embodiment of the American dream, didn't so much as blink at the sight a glowing boy crying on their land.

She had called him a boy. She had called him a boy. Danny was just a boy to her. His hands trembled as he accepted the thermos, taking a drink from the still hot coco inside.

Danny's stunned silence must have spoken volumes. The old man had given out a chuckle, moving to stand beside his wife.

"Don't worry, bud. Our son is just as strange as you."

Danny was just fifteen years old when he stumbled onto the Kent farm. When John and Martha Kent stumbled upon a crying glowing boy. When a sweet old couple hadn't cowered in fear but instead embraced Danny. Offering kindness and comfort with no strings attached.

He was only fifteen when he found himself a new home. A new life. One where he didn't have to be anything more than a teenage trying his best. When his powers weren't needed, only appreciated. Never expected.

A life where a warm home-cooked meal and a mother's kiss seemed to greet him every morning and night. Where a father's touch seemed to linger in every tractor lesson, every game of catch, and every time Danny learned more about the farmer lifestyle.

Danny was fifteen when he found his family. When he met the equally kind son of an amazing couple. When he had someone willing to teach him how to handle his powers, but never expected him to.

But Danny was seventeen when his past came back. When a town and people he cared about, all came flooding back in. When the guilt and shame of abandoning them came flooding back in.

When his new picture, perfect life started to crumble around the edges. When he realized life never went well for a Fenton and Fenton-adjacent. The perfect safe bubble had to burst eventual.

And well, that's a story for another day.

[syncopatedid]

Thinking out loud about The Apothecary Diaries #19... and my observation on how many have expressed disdain about Jinshi's muted reaction in rushing to get treatment for Maomao's injury. How could he remain so calm when the one he cares about is unconscious and bleeding? Why was he not running out of the temple with Maomao in his arms, flailing and yelling for a physician? Why was he not more distressed about it? Anyone would have lost it upon seeing their loved ones hurt like that, would they not? And to that, I'd like to offer this for consideration: Jinshi isn't just anyone. He is the Crown Prince. And to add an extra layer of nuance, consider also that Jinshi, attending the purification ceremony as the Crown Prince, meant that all eyes were on him that day.

Even undercover as an eunuch, Jinshi takes great care in conducting himself with the propriety expected of his role, only ever letting his guard down with a select few whom he trusts enough to have his full immaturity on display. In all likelihood, Jinshi has been made aware of his status and the politics of the palace since he was young. It's not a stretch to assume that the allegiances and loyalties of people who serve the palace are constantly in flux. Everywhere we turn, we see politics at play; amongst the court officials, the Emperor's consorts, and even the handmaidens serving their respective mistresses.

In earlier kerfuffles, when it came to protecting Maomao from being bullied by the handmaidens, Jinshi would approach it in a way that his actions would not be seen as favoritism towards Maomao. Jinshi also didn't cry when he was seeing Ah-Duo off, and would only allow himself to be vulnerable when he was alone with Maomao. In every situation where we see him acting in an official capacity, Jinshi is always conscious and careful about how he is being perceived. So it goes without saying that appearing as the crown prince that day, Jinshi knows his every action is being watched and scrutinized by the people around him. Any move that could be potentially perceived as "weakness" or "unbecoming" of a successor to the throne could start rumors that might reach the enemies of the state, who could use that intel to sow discord among the common people or persuade disgruntled officials to turn against the current regime. The fact that the crown prince's life has been targeted only serves to remind him that there are those actively plotting to destabilize the kingdom by causing massive panic and chaos. Jinshi knows the weight of his role and cannot act impulsively in any situation, even if it's about someone he deeply cares about.

When we consider the above, it would be understandable why he showed as much restraint as he did when it came to what had happened to him and to Maomao. He's used to putting the needs of the country above his own all his life. To step out of the temple maintaining the dignity of royalty after an assassination attempt has just been made on him sends a message of defiance to the ones who were most certainly watching somewhere. And while sullying his hands with the blood of a mere servant girl might send some tongues wagging, Jinshi's composure and quiet indignation would cement his position not only as a man befitting of his lineage but also as a man not to be underestimated. Just something to think about. p.s: As much as I think Jinshi is seething with rage, I kind of feel he would still hold back on the death sentence when it comes to meting out punishment to the guard who was only doing his job, let alone when it's about a servant's disobedience towards a ranked official... so maybe Jinshi could still spare his life and throw him to the gallows or something. That won't matter anyway, since Lakan will probably use his connections to see that he will not live long enough to serve out his full sentence RIP get wrecked!

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Journey to the West In "Two Secretive Love Bonds of Two Gods"

It All Started At Sakutopia Royal court, Princess Saphira who was Sitting on the Throne Giving a Cold Look at her Now "Ex-Husband" Name Prince Daniel Jamerson Rooster Who Stood before the Court of the kingdom For a Crime That He Committed and then Saphira said Coldly,

Saphira: "Prince Daniel Rooster, You are Charge of treason, Murder, Adultery, and Domestic Violence against the Crown of Sakutopia. What Do you have to Say For yourself?"

Daniel stood in Chains along with Barbra Minx who is also In chains as well, Daniel begged Saphira Mercy but She's Having none of it and she said in anger tone,

Saph: "Do you have any Idea That our 5 years Of Marriage is Nothing but a Sham, Disgrace, and Unpassionately? You committed a Murder of My Unborn Daughter, Serena For your Stupid Selfish Desires of Having a son. Not Only that You Committed Domestic abuse Infront of My Subjects! and Committed a treason By Committing the Adultery!"

Daniel: "Please Saph, I'm So Sorry.. I didn't mean to let this happen, I've beg Of you and Have mercy on me and Barbra I-"

Saphira Cut in,

Saphira: "Silence! I will not hear your excuses. As Punishment You and Barbra Minx are Hear by Be Shamed by the good people in sakutopia and For your pregnant mistress..The unborn shall be terminated.."

Daniel: "NO! NO! Not my child..please I beg of you, don't take my Unborn child away from me!"

Saph: "YOU TOOK MINE DANIEL! It's eye for an eye Scenario for you. NO Child Is going To be Born with such Horrendous Parents and Barbra minx is Hearby being sterile as well..and after Shame and all.. You two are BANISHED From the Kingdom of Sakutopia and you two Shall not set foot in this palace again or it's Sentenced to Death for the Both of you!"

Daniel Knee down in defeat as the guards took Barbra Minx to Terminate her pregnancy and after that they were taken to Outside of the Palace as they stripped them naked and Force them to walk with shame. Daniels Father Couldn't even look at him because he was ashamed That his own Son had Mistreated the princess of Sakutopia and Tarnished The good name of his familes Neither is Barbra's father who was So ashamed of His daughter for messing around with a married man.. The Fathers of Daniel and Barbra Bows to Saphira and apologize for their Horrid behavior towards Saphira.. After the walk Of shame, She Ordered the Guards to Close the gates of Sakutopia Kingdom letting Daniel and Barbra know that they are No Longer Welcomed to her Kingdom again.. That night, Her Father (Emperor Mordue) was Livid and ranting about daniels Betrayal and he asked,

Emperor Mordue: "What are we going to do? She has No Suitors at all, She rejected them and Not only that That Rooster boy Cause treason!! What in the name of Smiling devil are going to do to Solve this Suitors Delima?!"

Then His Royal Advisor Knocking on the door and opens it and said,

Royal Advisor: "I Say We should Send Saphira to the Oracle of the west. She will tell the Princess Who is a worthy Husband for her and She lives in Thunder Monastery."

Mordue: "The Oracle of the west, It's pretty far from here! Besides They're Crawling with demons in the Mortal World, Who will be by her side to Bless and protect her?"

Royal Advisor: "Thats where the good news part, There is a Monk who just Came into the palace and His name is "Tang Sanzang", He was Known as the "Golden Cicada"."

Mordue: "THE "Golden Cicada" here?! Well bring Him here at the throne room, I'll have Words with him..and request to take my daughter to the west to seek the oracle as well."

Royal Advisor: "Oh Your Majesty, The Monk was going to the west too to get Buddha's Scriptures as well"

Then Emperor Mordue Nodded as he ordered The Advisor to bring the monk to him. When Master Sazang came to the throne room, The emperor comes in and welcomed him as master Sazang thanked him for letting him stay.. Then The emperor Offered him To Accompany His Daughter on the Journey to the west To seek the Oracle, Of course Master Sazang accepted the Offer and Saphira was overheard the conservation. Then The Next Day as Saphira Is Wearing the Fox mask with her mags full of clothes and food she needs and got on to her Mighty Great White Kirin Name Yuki and she Is Introduce to the monk as she bows and rise, Then the Journey to the west has begun.. During the long Journey, Saphira Notice the big mountain about the shape of the hand even Master tang Told her that it's a Buddhas hand as she was amazed by it until the Dangerous tiger came out from the shadows to come after her..Saphira gasp and rides her kirin to distract the tiger and Told Master tang to get to the Safety, after he gets to safety, Saphira found the cave and began to go in..as the tiger try to get in to eat her..until she hears the Mischief Voice calling to her, She turns and saw the Monkey king and he said to her…