#between rulers and monarchs

[hanakihan]

I did say I’ll sketch jinchul in Empyrea’s aesthetic so here we are (albeit no tablet at hand so awful sketch on phone it is)

my hand hurts but just you know Empyrea has beautiful back window

[queen-victoria-alexandrina]

"Albert grows daily fonder and fonder of politics and business, and is so wonderfully fit for both - such perspicacity and such courage - and I grow daily to dislike both more and more. We women are not made for governing - and if we are good women, we must dislike these masculine occupations; but there are times which force one to take interest in them mal gré bon gré [whether one likes it or not] and I do of course, intensely."

Queen Victoria in a letter to her Uncle Leopold, 1852.

[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?

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Centaur King

Yandere Centaur King x Gender Neutral Royal Elf Reader CW: Noncon, kidnapping, massive centaur dick, belly bulge from massive centaur dick, belly bulge from massive load of cum from said massive centaur dick, general yandere behavior. Word Count: 425 (Not beta read and barely edited but I hope you all enjoy, it isn't anything special I just had a centaur craving.)

Being made the centaur ruler's prisoner. You never saw it coming. Peaceful relations had been in place between the centaur kingdom of Crestwood and the elven kingdom of Fallfeather for over 20 years. Resentment between some individuals lingered, but most people were amicable. 

You had been the royal ruler of the elves. A fair monarch who had reigned since your father had perished in the great war before the current treaties with the centaurs had been put into place. 

But the highborn horse-men were playing the long game. If they couldn't take the realm with might and magic, then it would be theirs by other means. 

They had long since gotten your court wizard Elyrifel, the most trusted advisor to the crown, to serve them in their ambitions. 

When King Farendale of the centaurs made his first nonviolent bid for dominion over the elven lands it was through a marriage proposal. Though Elyrifel pushed hard for your acceptance, you refused to hear it out. A merger of two kingdoms wasn't something done so flippantly and you had scarcely met him outside diplomatic functions. 

Though at those functions he had always given you his undivided attention. Much to your annoyance, you thought it was likely feigned to get you to accept one of his many offerings of marriage. 

But a marriage for power wasn't all King Farendale had been after. He had genuinely wanted you for years, ever since his first fell upon your elven form, and his patience had run out. Your grace, regality, and devotion to your subjects had captured his heart even easier than he had captured you.

You had gone to sleep in the safety of your chambers and had woken up in his. Elyrifel had whisked you off to the centaur's kingdom with his magic.

Farendale knew everything would have been better had you been willing. But it was clear that the willing part would just have to come later. As long as you were his to treasure and fuck silly for the rest of your days and his.

You had been forced to marry him with your close allies and friends threatened if you didn't comply in a public ceremony.

And then you were utterly his. 

King Farendale's cock slid into your conveniently stretchy and pliant elven form almost daily. The massive dick leaving a perfect stretched outline in your belly every time it was sheathed within you. His large nuts filled you until it filled your inside and bulged out your belly, dripping everywhere when he finally pulled out.

[mintsuwu]

Took a lil break from the asks in order to cook some ✨SMILING CRITTERS FAMILY TIME✨ with @rexmk0153universe-blog because why the hell not??? I might have to divide it in two parts though-

(1/2)

DogDay

DogDay's journey begins when a stork delivers him to the wrong family of wolves, leading him to be adopted by Big Bad's parents. However, his presence triggers jealousy in Big Bad, his adopted older brother, who resents the attention their parents give to the newcomer.

Despite the pack's focus on abilities related to weather phenomena, Dogday stands out due to his unique qualities and talents. As he grows older, he feels a deep longing for a sense of purpose and identity beyond his wolf upbringing. Seeking to find his true self, he leaves the pack and ventures to Jolly Valley, where he encounters the Smiling Critters and forms close bonds with them. Over time, Dogday becomes a leader among the Smiling Critters, embodying their values of friendship and unity.

Big Bad, driven by pride and a mix of emotions, followed Dogday to Jolly Valley, intending to both antagonize his little brother and secretly monitor his progress. Despite his outward bravado and mischievous nature causing ocassional trouble, Dogday remains welcoming towards his older brother, except when his antics go too far. Hus unwavering cheerfulness and open-heartedness serve as a beacon of hope for both the Smiling Critters and his troubled older brother.

BONUS: "Big Bad" is actually a nickname! His actual name is "WindWolf"... Dogday usually calls him "Big Bro", but the rest of the critters "misheard" it and began calling him "Big Bad", much to his dismay.

CatNap

Catnap shares a unique connection with a deity known as SandMan, who reigns over the Dream Realm, a distinct reality separate from the main universe. The origin of Catnap traces back to a moment when Dogday, as a young member of his pack, made a wish upon a shooting star for a friend, and this wish brought Catnap into existence.

SandMan took particular interest in Catnap due to his remarkable qualities, leading to a special father-son dynamic between them, despite Catnap starting off as just another creation of SandMan like many others.

Catnap, however, felt a strong pull to leave the Dream Realm in search of Dogday, the source of his creation. Eventually, the feline succeeded in finding Dogday and chose to remain by his side, along with the other Smiling Critters. Despite Catnap's origin in the Dream Realm and his connection to SandMan, his loyalty lies with Dogday and their companions, forging a lasting bond beyond the confines of the Dream Realm.

Kickin'Chicken

Kickin'Chicken comes from a predominantly female family, consisting of his mother, sisters, and himself as the middle sibling. His father, known as "Rockin'Rooster," is a famous singer, an example that Kickin' aspires to follow. However, Rockin'Rooster's focus on his career leaves little time for family, causing conflicting emotions for Kickin'. Despite his admiration for his father's success, Kickin' yearns for more attention and connection within the family... Yet he hides it under his "cool and tough guy" persona.

However, among his family members Kickin' has a strong bond with his older sister, Pecky. She is level-headed compared to Kickin', but shares his adventurous spirit and openness to new experiences and people.

BONUS: Kickin's family is quite fond of Bubba Bubbaphant, given how he was Kickin's first friend and all of them consider him another member of the family.

CraftyCorn

Craftycorn, born in a magical kingdom governed by four elemental monarchs (Clubs, Diamonds, Hearts and Spades) was raised as the daughter of the Queen of Spades, destined to become a warrior. However, Crafty harbored a distaste for violence, finding joy in art and nature instead.

Despite her mother's attempts to grant her freedom to choose her path within the elemental realms, the other rulers disapproved, doubting Crafty's suitability for the throne. When Craftycorn was to receive her royal Merry Charm, symbolizing her assigned role, she unexpectedly manifested her own charm—the flower. Fearing disappointment from her mother and influenced by the other monarchs, Craftycorn fled her home, unaware of the devastation her departure caused her mother.

Their relationship is complicated, marked by love and care, yet tinged with Crafty's mixed feelings towards her mother.

LoolaLamb

Loola is a special sheep born into a flock known as the "Sleep Sheep" or "Slumbering Guardians." These sheep have the unique role of wandering through villages, signaling to people that it's time to sleep and seek safety from the dangers of the night. Once their task is complete, SandMan, a mystical entity who the sheep "worship" due to its previous helps toward the flock, can traverse their realm to ensure everyone enjoys peaceful dreams and restful sleep.

She's the daughter of the flock's leader, tasked with protecting the sheep, particularly during the day when they're less vigilant due to needing rest after their nightly duties. However, Loola lost her mother at a young age and was raised by her father, who prepared her to take on a similar role in the future.

Despite her upbringing, Loola yearns for adventure and exploration beyond the confines of her flock's duties. After much persuasion, her father allows her to leave, although they maintain communication through letters.

The lamb often travels alone, but occasionally spends time with the Smiling Critters in Jolly Valley for extended periods of time.

[circeyoru]

Shadow and Void = Requested

The Request

[Yandere!Sung Jinwoo x Enemy Monarch!Reader]

Part 1 (here) ― Part 2

WARNING: This story is going to be heavy spoilers to people who haven't read the manhwa or novel but want to enjoy the anime for Solo Leveling. I suggest NOT reading if you don't want spoils. Plus you might not get the references if you have no knowledge of the manhwa/novel.

You, as the Monarch of Void and King of Mist, could be said to be the weakest or among the strongest. Weakest because you lacked the army like other Monarchs and the motivation to be more active in all things cruel. Among the strongest because your powers could single-handedly devour all the other Monarchs and their armies. For you essentially control space and could be dubbed a celestial being. 

Unlike the other Monarchs, you never joined in on the war directly, you merely managed some gates here and there and moved armies to level the playing field. All that to ensure you weren’t a target and wouldn’t be endangered. If you did at least something, the other Monarchs wouldn’t target you or name you a traitor and the Rulers will see you as too weak to bother. Because you were a Monarch unique from the others, you had a particular relationship with the strongest Monarch, Ashborn. 

To him, you were like a little sibling, in human terms. He looked after you and like having you around for nothing in return. In exchange for his indirect protection, you would help him with his army and lend your power to him. As best to describe your powers and abilities was that it was a supporter base, it was better for you to use on others than yourself. That was how you get by. The strongest Monarch would have a grip on you, in exchange for their protection you’d strengthen them. Once you were by Antares’ side, now you were on Ashborn’s because he never forced anything.

“I’m going to have a successor.” Ashborn told you one day. “Can you watch over them for me?”

“I’m a Monarch, Ashborn. I won’t help humans and only aim for my own survival.” You dully told them. It was true, even after the kindness and care Ashborn showed you, it wasn’t enough for you to change your ways for who knows how long. 

“I have a feeling you’ll change your tune later on.” Ashborn spoke with certainty.

You raised a vessel of your own, unlike the other Monarchs however, you preferred staying on Earth and away from the Monarchs. Humans were weak beings even with awakened powers. Their strongest —National Level— Hunters weren’t enough to take down a Monarch’s army, well, not that they were enough to put you down.

Over years, you’ve enjoyed the spoils of human society, moving from place to place and understanding their play. It was tragic to see them burn once your other Monarchs arrive to wreck havoc and the war between the Rulers and Monarch will commence again, but you weren’t going to try to put a stop to the war just because of some human inventions. It’s not like you can’t make it all again after the war. You knew the method so…

“Ow!” You accidentally bumped into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The old looking man gave you his hand. 

You subconsciously took his hand and got to your feet, dusting yourself off once you were stable. When you looked over at him, your eyebrows furrowed. A light fragment. “You’re going to die a painful death.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” You turned and walked into another direction. What would be the chances of meeting a sleeping light fragment? None. Because you’ve been very distanced from the Monarchs and Rulers, you figured they might have forgotten about you entirely. You lacked a presence to begin with anyways. 

Above all, you hated how you played a part in the betrayal of Ashborn. Both Rakan and Baran were idiots in your eyes, how could they just do that to Ashborn when he was against the Rulers like them? If you weren’t a passivist, you would have knocked them over. You looked in the distance before disappearing through a gate of your own creation, a misty surface, you wondered where or when Ashborn’s vessel would appear so you could stay by his side once more.

“Bring me to that light fragment inside that human.” Sillad, The Monarch of Frost and King of Snow Folk, demanded while you were enjoying a bowl of noodles in your apartment. 

You glared up at him, “Why? Did you get Antares’ permission to do it?”

“Since when does a Monarch need such a thing?” Sillad scoffed. “Are you still waiting for Ashborn to return? So pathetic. Antares’ waiting for you, you know?” He sighed and spoke his mind, “I’m doing everyone a favour by eliminating the light fragments before they become a hindrance. So?”

It was your turn to sigh, “Give me a location or description of the person…”

Sillad grinned. “Hunters Association, the Chairman’s office.” 

You landed at the top of the Hunters Association building while you placed the entire office in a separate location where no one could bother the two. So long as they don’t focus on the barrier that bounds the space, it will be unbreakable and maintained. The city is peaceful, but with Sillad’s appearance, you knew your days of leisure was done for.

It wasn’t long until your barrier actually broke and something crawled out of the broken glass wall. Your eyes recognized it as a giant ant in black colour with misty purple smoke patterns, it reminded you much of Ashborn and his army. Perhaps his vessel was finally complete and he’s back? 

Your thoughts halted as your eyes caught Sillad racing out to destroy the ant. You hummed and opted not to aid him and see the condition of the Chairman. You found him on the ground in a pool of blood, your indifferent tone rang in the room, “I told you you’d die an agonizing death.”

“Monarch… of… Void…” Gunhee choked out, you moved your feet away to avoid his blood. “You’re time for neutrality… ends now… You must pick… a side…”

“I don’t want to pick a side,” You crushed down, looking into his eyes, “It’s not my style.”

“Don’t be his enemy…” He advised. “If you do… Your fate… will be… death…”

Your eyebrows furrowed, so long as you hold the title of Monarch, you’ll be Ashborn’s enemy, right? By now, he knew you’re the one that gave those two idiotic Monarch the power boost needed to betray Ashborn. So there was no way you could escape your so-called fate with death. You got up with a chuckle, “I welcome Death with open arms. As long as he’s back, I’m grateful.”

Your snapped to your senses when you sensed an attack aimed in your direction. You panicked, how could Sillad do something like this?! There was no way he didn’t know you weren’t in the area, in fact, he’d expect you to check up on the Chairman after he left. What was his deal?!

Before you raised any defenses to protect yourself (and the Chairman indirectly), he got up and shielded you. You grasped and caught a glimpse of Ashborn’s vessel appearing out of thin air to deflect the blow. While Ashborn’s vessel was enraged for some reason and aimed another attack at Sillad, the Chairman’s form relaxed and leaned back into you, you hastily gripped a hold of him by the shoulders. By now, blood had soaked your pants and dirtied your form. You let him lay his head on your lap as you kneeled Japanese style on the ground.

“Let me try to heal you.” You raised your hand to his wound. If Ashborn came to protect this human or fragment, you’ll try as well. But try as you might, as a Monarch, you couldn’t heal a fragment of brillant light. 

“Beru!!” Ashborn’s vessel shouted and a giant ant, this time with a humanoid figure, appeared within seconds across from him.

“You called, My King?”

“Save him, at all costs!” The vessel ordered. 

Seeing some hope, you tried as well. The Chairman’s eyes peeked open weakly, at the healing received. But the giant ant called Beru spoke, “My King, my healing spell… Isn’t working.”

“Monarch of Void… You can stop too…” 

You flinched at his words.

While Jinwoo was troubled by the presence of another Monarch after the last one, he took priority in the Chairman’s survival. He took out of the <Holy Water of Life> thinking it might work. Yet, the Chairman grabbed Jinwoo’s hand and the potion, “Don’t…”

Your brain seemed to have disconnected from the situation while the Chairman was talking to Ashborn’s vessel. As much as you wanted to congratulate Ashborn’s return, you know how to read the room. Maybe he has grown attached to someone during his time on Earth. Odd that you didn’t, well, you did but it never lasted long due to the trials of a human life. 

You didn’t even register the Chairman advising Jinwoo to take you with him by his side. A heartbreaking moment that you couldn’t connect with emotionally, yet for some reason, water came out from the corners of your eyes. You blinked. Was this sadness? Guilt? Why were you feeling such emotions or why was your body reacting in such a way? Was it because Ashborn’s vessel was feeling the same and you’re mimicking?

Why?

Why??

WHY???

“Ahhh!!!” Daggers pierced into your shoulder and knee joints, pinning you to the wall like a doll. Your head dropped down in pain and exhaustion. “Ashborn… You’re really mad at me… Aren’t you… I deserve this…”

The vessel raised a brow, “Why are you calling me that? I’m not Ashborn.”

You looked up at the vessel with dull and almost lifeless eyes, “You’re right, you’re not him, but his vessel. Your days are numbered…”

“Why do you say that?”

“Ashborn will take over your body once its ready for him. He’ll make his return. So for now, I’ll stay by your side until he is back.” You spoke monotonously. “You can torture me or ask my anything, it’s not like it matters if you’re disappearing soon.”

Note: This request is a bit on the complicated side and I honestly have no idea how to do though~ Haha. This is a bit of a test to see if you guys like this one and if not, it won't continue. Do let me know your thoughts!

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

[genericpuff]

the Underworld is the only godly realm that was built on capitalism

So what's Olympus built on? Socialism? Are the gods and nymphs there living the good life compared to their underworld counterparts? Are Zeus and Hera good monarchs even if they're not good people? Or is it just bad in a different way?

Olympus does still participate in capitalism to a degree (especially considering that they do a lot of buying and selling between the Underworld, ex. Kore isn't the only one who travels for work between realms) but the realm was originally built on offerings and bartering which is a tradition that's still maintained between the gods themselves - and it's a big reason why they care for the mortals at all, because without their prayers and offerings, the entire foundation of their realm and the gods' status as rulers would crumble.

So in that way, the gods in power - aside from Hades who is an exception we'll touch on in a second - don't really care about the societal institutions of money, because money just doesn't really serve any function for them that the mortals' offerings - and their own abilities as gods - aren't already providing them. The capitalist system that exists in Olympus is more so to serve the residents who aren't being actively worshipped, such as the nymphs and satyrs (though some are lucky to gain recognition in ways that benefits them through offerings) and for budding gods who don't have as much influence in the Mortal Realm yet (such as Kore).

That said, there are plenty of complaints to be made about Hera and Zeus regardless of the economy that exists within Olympus, buuuut we'll be getting into those issues later ;3 As for the quality of life of Olympus vs. the Underworld, there are pros and cons to both, as with any economic system. The Underworld has a bit of a steeper divide between the rich and poor, but living in Olympus comes with the caveats of being in Zeus' territory where life can be... unpredictable, to say the least. BUT the Underworld being built on the free market has provided it with unique advantages through their technological advancements (ex. the existence of cars and cellphones in both realms is largely owed to the Underworld); whereas Olympus has greater access to the resources of the gods themselves due to literally being the home of the King of the Gods who everyone tries to keep in their good graces.

We've seen a mini example of this bartering system already back in Episode 56: Hera telling Kore she was going to help her with her garden wasn't just the Queen dishing out orders, she was telling Kore that gardening would be a sufficient enough trade for having her in her home and feeding her.

She's not offering to feed Kore for free (which WOULD be an honor coming from the Queen), she's telling her "I'll provide you with the company of royalty and good food / wine / etc. in exchange for your gardening services." (that said, it is still sort of a high honor in and of itself considering Hera wouldn't let just anyone tend to her property ;3)

But that brings us to the exception - Hades. The Underworld had to be built on a different system due to many of its gods and goddesses not being commonly worshipped, so offerings and tributes were hard to come by. For Hades especially, how was he supposed to earn the favors of mortals when they wouldn't even dare speak his name? This led to him having to build the Underworld on the value of specific resources - such as the minerals and metals and gemstones found in the Underworld itself - which were later refined into common currency that's now used across the realms.

Fun fact, this is also why Kore is ticked off that the Underworld costs a toll to enter for both shades and gods alike - because there isn't a toll booth to get into Olympus.

The Underworld has truly mastered the art of microtransactions LMAO

To wrap up this fun lil' lore dump, there's a WIP scene I have on the back burner that goes into greater detail on Olympus' bartering systems but I haven't had the chance to work it naturally into the story yet, I'm hoping it'll be included in an upcoming episode soon but it's basically a cute lil' shopping sequence between Persephone, Artemis, and Daphne :' )

(enjoy these never before seen sketches of Daphne sporting Y2K-style fashion LMAO)

[nighthaunting]

I know we’re all just clowning here on tumblr dot com but I do think the perception of Morgott as like, ultra-religious and sort of blindly following the Golden Order despite their hatred of Omens is a really contextless reading of his situation.

If we read the description of his great rune it says:

That the Omen King was born of the golden lineage, and that he was indeed the Lord of Leyndell.

Morgott was the rightful ruler of Leyndell, Omen or not that was his golden city full of people who would revile him if they knew of his true origin.

I think his motives are less someone who’s tricked themselves into believing in something that hates him and more someone who’s wanted a place where he belongs for so long that now that there’s finally a place that he provably has a right to he’s never leaving.

Morgott isn’t deluded about what the Golden Order is or he’d never have invented the Veiled Monarch. Even the lines about his becoming the Erdtree’s protector don’t really indicate he had a particularly faith-based reason for doing so, but rather that he found that he came to love the Erdtree despite not knowing love.

Morgott is the gothic heroine who just inherited a big cursed estate but he wants a place that’s his own so bad he moves into the haunted house anyway and starts loving the architecture despite it being full of ghosts that hate him.

Morgott who led the Night’s Cavalry to hunt Tarnished, and beat the shit out of Rahdan, and launched the Seige of Mt. Gelmir and prosecuted the bloodiest and most costly war in the Shattering is not a guy who is getting his blind fundamentalist on, he’s a guy who’s decided that he’ll pile up a mountain of corpses before he lets anyone take away or threaten his place and is willing to be extremely proactive about defending it.

Editing to add:

And see the thing is, I think there’s even more nuance to it than just Morgott finally having a scrap of something to call his own and being willing to defend it with all his might!

In hindsight, I actually think Morgott had a better idea than anyone what the Tarnished would eventually have to do to get to the Elden Throne.

His dialogue as he’s dying makes it clear he’s known about the thorns blocking the way into the Elden Throne and been considering every way anyone might get through them.

In his dialogue as Margit in Stormveil, he says very specifically “the flame of ambition” and speaks of snuffing that flame.

I think Morgott realized that the only way a Tarnished could get into the Elden Throne would be to burn the Erdtree, and not only has he come to love this fixture of the haunted house he chooses to live in, but he knows that burning the Erdtree would destroy the place he calls his own.

Is it any wonder he’s so proactively trying to stop any Tarnished from even approaching Leyndell in the first place, when in his eyes it wouldn’t be unreasonable to view a sufficiently powerful Tarnished as a direct threat to the piece of the Lands Between that he’s carved out for himself?

[mrsfancyferrari]

Could you maybe make an AU with Carlos? Kind of a Romeo and Juliet vibe where they’re both royalty and aren’t allowed to be together but w a happy ending?

Happy Ever After

Anon: Could you maybe make an AU with Carlos? Kind of a Romeo and Juliet vibe where they’re both royalty and aren’t allowed to be together but w a happy ending?

Song: Love Story by Indila

Author’s note: Hey anon! I'm not used to the story of Romeo and Juliet so please bear with me! Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 8.6k

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Aragonia, nestled between towering mountains and winding rivers, lay a land of unparalleled beauty and prosperity. The kingdom was a tapestry of lush, verdant landscapes, where rolling hills were adorned with wildflowers that danced in the gentle breeze.

Majestic castles, their spires reaching towards the heavens, stood as a testament to the kingdom's rich history and the ingenuity of its people.

The citizens of Aragonia were a proud and industrious lot, known far and wide for their skilled craftsmanship and unwavering commitment to their community.

From the bustling marketplaces in the heart of the capital city to the quaint, charming villages that dotted the countryside, the people of Aragonia lived in harmony, their days filled with the laughter of children and the rhythmic hum of daily life.

At the center of this enchanting kingdom stood the grand palace, a sprawling edifice of gleaming marble and intricate stonework.

Here, the wise and benevolent ruler of Aragonia presided, guiding the kingdom with a steady hand and a deep understanding of the needs of his people.

Under the watchful eye of the monarch, Aragonia flourished, its reputation for prosperity and innovation spreading far beyond its borders, drawing in visitors from near and far who marveled at the beauty and wonder of this truly remarkable land.

Princess Y/N, known for your grace and beauty, was the eldest daughter of King Alfonso VII. You had inherited your father's intelligence and compassion, making you a beloved figure within the kingdom.

Prince Carlos, on the other hand, was the youngest son of King Ferdinand III. Despite his noble status, he possessed a rebellious spirit that drew him closer to the commoners.

King Alfonso and King Ferdinand were embroiled in a bitter feud that threatened to tear the kingdom apart. The two monarchs harbored deep-seated animosity towards one another, stemming from long-standing political and personal disputes.

This toxic rivalry manifested in a climate of tension and distrust, with the two men constantly vying for power and influence. The tension between them spilled over into their respective families, creating a rift that only served to exacerbate the already precarious situation within the kingdom.

As the conflict escalated, the people of the land found themselves caught in the crossfire, uncertain of their future and the stability of the realm. . . .

"Princess Y/N, are you ready for the party?" your servant asked you as you stared out of your oval-shaped window, revealing the endless sea and the docks.

"Yes Matilda, I am ready," you muttered.

You were not. You hated going to these parties that your father organized. The grand halls filled with nobility, the endless chatter about alliances and politics, and the constant pressure to present yourself as the perfect princess made you feel suffocated.

You'd rather stay here and watch the sea forever, losing yourself in the gentle rhythm of the waves and the distant calls of the seabirds.

As you reluctantly turned away from the window, you couldn't help but sigh. The ocean had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could dream of freedom and adventure far from the palace walls.

But duty called, and you knew you had to uphold your role, no matter how much it pained you.

Adjusting your gown, you took a deep breath and steeled yourself for the evening ahead, wishing that one day you might find a way to escape the gilded cage that held you.

Your father expected you to charm the guests, forge new alliances, and perhaps even catch the eye of a suitable suitor. He had always emphasized the importance of these gatherings for the kingdom's future, and he relied on you to play your part perfectly.

Despite your own desires, you knew that failing to meet his expectations could have serious repercussions for both you and the realm.

The thought of potential suitors filled you with a mixture of dread and resignation. You longed for a partner who understood your love for the sea and your yearning for freedom, rather than someone who only saw you as a pawn in their political games.

Yet, you knew that such a romantic ideal was unlikely in your world, where alliances were forged not by love but by necessity. . . .

"Carlos! Are you sure this isn't going to get us into big trouble?" Mercutio whispered as the three of them pushed through the overgrown garden of the Alfonso family.

Carlos grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Relax, Mercutio. I've done this a dozen times before. The Alfonsos are too busy celebrating to notice a few extra guests," he replied confidently, ducking under a low-hanging branch.

"Besides, we blend in perfectly. Just act like you belong, and no one will question a thing."

Benvolio, trailing behind them, chimed in, "He's right, Mercutio. Remember last summer when we crashed the mayor's gala? We even got compliments on our outfits!" He adjusted his mask and smoothed his clothes, trying to muster up some of Carlos' bravado.

"Let's just have fun tonight. What's the worst that could happen?"

The garden was a labyrinth of lavishly manicured hedges and vibrant flowerbeds, with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead that cast a magical glow on the scene. Stone statues of mythical creatures peeked out from behind dense shrubbery, and a grand marble fountain stood at the center, its water sparkling like liquid diamonds.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming jasmine, adding an enchanting allure to the evening.

"Just blend in," Carlos finally whispered before slipping into the crowd, his movements fluid and confident. Mercutio and Benvolio exchanged a quick glance, then followed suit, mingling seamlessly with the other revelers.

The sound of laughter and music enveloped them as they made their way toward the heart of the celebration, hoping their disguises would hold up under the scrutiny of the Alfonso family and their guests.

Carlos was dressed in an elegant black suit adorned with intricate gold embroidery, his mask a matching black with delicate filigree that framed his eyes.

Mercutio wore a deep blue velvet coat with silver accents, his mask resembling a Venetian masterpiece with feathers that added a touch of mystique.

Benvolio, opting for a more understated look, sported a dark green ensemble with subtle bronze details, his mask simple yet sophisticated, giving him an air of quiet confidence.

Carlos, Mercutio and Benvolio all arrived at the mansion, eager to have a good time. As they mingled with the guests, no one had any idea that they were from the rival Ferdinand family.

They blended in seamlessly, sipping drinks and chatting merrily, their true identities hidden from the unsuspecting crowd.

The three friends revelled in the freedom of being anonymous at the party. They could let their guard down and truly enjoy themselves, without the constant tension and rivalry that existed between their family and the Alfonso.

For once, they were able to forget the long-standing feud and simply live in the moment, dancing and laughing without a care in the world. . . .

"Everyone! Please give your full attention to King Alfonso and his daughter, Princess Y/N who make their appearance tonight!" The announcer stated, catching everyone's attention and the room came to a silent halt.

The grand hall was adorned with opulent chandeliers that cast a warm, golden glow over the elegantly dressed guests. Rich tapestries depicting scenes of royal triumphs hung on the walls, and an orchestra played softly in the background, adding to the regal atmosphere.

At the top of the imperial staircase, a majestic red carpet led straight to the throne, where King Alfonso and Princess Y/N stood in their resplendent attire.

King Alfonso, a striking figure with a commanding presence, wore a robe of deep crimson velvet trimmed with gold embroidery. His crown, encrusted with precious gemstones, rested regally upon his silver hair, which added to his dignified look.

His piercing blue eyes surveyed the room with a mixture of authority and benevolence, and a jeweled scepter in his right hand glinted under the chandelier's light, symbolizing his unchallenged power and leadership.

Princess Y/N, standing gracefully beside him, was the epitome of elegance and poise. Your gown, a masterpiece of delicate lace and satin in shades of royal blue, shimmered with every movement.

A tiara of diamonds and sapphires adorned your flowing locks, complementing your serene and captivating beauty.

Your eyes, a brilliant shade of green, radiated warmth and kindness as you acknowledged the gathered guests, while your calm demeanor and gentle smile hinted at the wisdom and strength that lay beneath your refined exterior.

Carlos and his friends were at the buffet, eagerly sampling the lavish spread of delicacies when the announcement echoed through the hall.

While his companions barely glanced up before returning to their plates, Carlos found himself captivated by the sight of you. Your graceful presence and ethereal beauty held him spellbound, making it impossible for him to look away.

The sparkle of your tiara and the gentle warmth in your eyes seemed to draw him in, as if you were the very embodiment of a fairy tale come to life.

As his friends continued their animated conversation about the best dishes at the buffet, Carlos remained rooted to his spot, his gaze fixed firmly on the princess.

He felt an inexplicable connection, a magnetic pull that made the noise and bustle around him fade into the background.

In that moment, nothing else mattered; all he could see was you, and all he could feel was the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, you might notice him amidst the sea of faces.

The first dance came soon after the announcement, and Carlos knew it was the perfect chance to make his presence known. As the music started, couples began to fill the dance floor, but Carlos's eyes never left you.

Gathering his courage, he approached with a respectful bow, extending his hand. "May I have this dance, Princess?" he asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him.

You smiled warmly, recognizing the sincerity in his gaze, and placed your hand in his.

As you both moved gracefully to the rhythm, the world seemed to blur around you. Carlos felt a sense of belonging and purpose, each step affirming the connection he felt.

In your presence, the grandeur of the ballroom faded, leaving just the two of you, sharing a moment that neither would soon forget.

"What is your name?" you asked, your voice as melodious as the music enveloping the room. Carlos hesitated for a brief moment, the truth perched on the edge of his tongue.

"My name is Charles," he lied. A slight tremor in his voice betrayed his nervousness.

You tilted your head slightly, a curious glint in your eyes as you continued to dance. "Charles," you repeated, testing the name on your lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, Charles, what brings you to our celebration tonight?"

Carlos swallowed hard, determined to maintain his composure. "I came with friends," he replied, gesturing subtly towards the buffet. "But now, I am grateful for this unexpected opportunity to dance with you, Princess."

Carlos and you danced gracefully before your father, the King. As the music came to an end, your father gave you a pointed look, signalling that it was time to separate and greet another potential suitor.

You leaned in to Carlos and whispered, "Meet me in the west garden in an hour."

Carlos' eyes widened momentarily, but he quickly regained his composure. "I'll be there," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

You made your way through the throng of guests, exchanging pleasantries with the various noblemen and women who sought your attention. However, your mind was focused on the upcoming meeting with Carlos.

As the appointed hour approached, you slipped away from the main festivities and hurried to the west garden. Carlos was already there, waiting for you under the moonlit sky.

"You came," You said, relief evident in your voice.

"Of course," Carlos responded, taking your hands in his. "I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing you, even if it's just for a moment."

"Carlos, I... I don't know what to do. My father expects me to entertain these suitors, but that's not what my heart wants me to do."

Carlos squeezed your hands gently, his eyes searching yours. "Sometimes, we must follow our hearts, even if it means defying expectations," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination.

"I know it might be difficult, but you deserve to be with someone who understands you, who cherishes you for who you are, not just for your title."

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your father's expectations and the longing in your heart. "But what if my father never approves? What if he forces me to marry someone else?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Carlos stepped closer, his grip on your hands firm and reassuring. "Then we'll find a way to be together, no matter the obstacles. Love is worth fighting for, Princess. And I promise, I will fight for you."

"But how, you've only met me today," you started, your voice tinged with skepticism.

"It's something called love at first sight, Princess," Carlos teased, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "From the moment I saw you, I knew there was something special about you. It's not just about the title or the expectations—it's about the connection we share, even in such a short time."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what if this feeling fades? What if we regret defying everything for a chance that might not last?"

Carlos' expression grew serious, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering intensity. "Feelings like this don't fade easily, Princess. Genuine connections are rare and precious, and I believe ours is one of them. We owe it to ourselves to explore this, to give our hearts a chance to truly know if it's real."

"Okay," you replied shyly, a blush rising to your cheeks. No one has ever spoken to you like this before; it has always been about fulfilling duties and consummating the marriage.

Your entire life, you were taught that love was secondary to alliances and obligations, but Carlos' words stirred something deep within you—a hope that maybe, just maybe, there was more to life than duty.

Carlos' eyes softened as he noticed your hesitation. "This world we live in often binds us with chains of duty and tradition. But sometimes, those chains need to be broken for us to truly live. Let me prove to you that what we have is real. Let me show you a world where love and happiness aren't just dreams but possibilities."

His words carried a promise, a vow that resonated with the unspoken desires in your heart.

You nodded, unable to speak any more, tears welling up in your eyes. Carlos' hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your cheek, the simple gesture sending a shiver down your spine. His lips lingered for a moment, and you closed your eyes, savoring the unexpected comfort and reassurance his presence brought.

As he pulled back, his eyes never left yours, a silent promise passing between you.

In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing together against the backdrop of an uncertain future.

You took a deep breath, feeling a newfound strength and determination blooming within you. With Carlos by your side, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident that love, for once, would guide your path.

"Should your first job to court me be to kiss me on the lips?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. Carlos chuckled, the sound light and full of promise.

"If that is what the princess desires," he replied, his voice low and husky.

He leaned in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wished. But you didn't; instead, you found yourself closing the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss.

The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant at first, as if both of you were savoring the moment's significance. Then it deepened, becoming a silent conversation of shared hopes and unspoken dreams.

When you finally pulled away, your heart was racing, and you saw the same exhilaration mirrored in Carlos' eyes.

"Consider it the first of many," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "Because this is just the beginning of our journey together."

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, a blend of excitement, nervousness, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. The kiss had unlocked a floodgate of feelings you had kept hidden for so long, and in that brief, magical moment, you felt truly seen and understood.

As you gazed into Carlos' eyes, you knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it together, strengthened by the bond you had just forged.

"How will I communicate with you?" Carlos whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "We'll find a way," you replied, your voice steady with conviction. "Whether through letters, messages, or the silent understanding we share, we'll always be connected."

Carlos nodded, his eyes filled with trust and determination. "I believe in us," he said quietly, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Princess Y/N! Where are you?" you heard your maid, Matilda, yell out your name, her voice carrying a mix of urgency and worry.

You turned towards the sound, your heart sinking slightly at the reminder of your duties and the world that awaited outside this intimate bubble.

"I think that's the sign to leave, but don't worry, I'll be here tomorrow," Carlos said, letting go of you reluctantly. You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Promise?" you asked, your eyes searching his.

"Promise," Carlos replied, his gaze unwavering.

With one last lingering look, you turned and began to walk towards Matilda's voice, feeling Carlos' eyes on you until you disappeared from view. . . .

"Matilda, you saw who I was with, am I right?" you asked, staring out of your window as the evening sun cast long shadows across the room.

"Yes, Princess," Matilda replied, her voice hesitant but clear.

"Do you recognize him?" you pressed, turning to face her, your curiosity mingling with a touch of apprehension.

Matilda nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. He is the youngest child of our rival, King Ferdinand's child, Prince Carlos."

A gasp escaped your lips, and you felt a mix of shock and confusion grip you. "Prince Carlos? But how... why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Matilda's eyes softened with understanding. "I didn't want to alarm you, Princess. I saw how happy you were. But you must be careful; our kingdoms have a complicated history."

Your mind raced with conflicting emotions.

If Prince Carlos had lied about his identity, how could you trust anything else he had said

The promise he made to you felt sincere at the time, but now, doubt gnawed at your heart. What if his intentions were not as pure as you had believed?

The weight of the revelation pressed heavily on your shoulders, and the once-clear path ahead now seemed clouded with uncertainty.

Yet, there was a part of you that wanted to believe in the connection you had felt with him. Despite the rivalry between your kingdoms, there had been moments of genuine warmth and understanding in your conversations.

Could it be possible that he, too, wished for peace and a way to bridge the divide?

You knew you needed to tread carefully, but the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there could be more to his story than deceit kept a small flame of optimism alive within you.

Your heart ached with the weight of uncertainty. "Matilda, what should I do?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Matilda stepped closer, her expression filled with empathy. "Princess, you must tread carefully. Confront Prince Carlos and seek the truth. But remember, matters of the heart are never simple, especially when they are entangled with the affairs of state. Trust your instincts, but also be prepared for whatever truths may come to light."

A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you—fear, hope, and a lingering sense of betrayal. Matilda's words echoed in your mind, urging you to confront Prince Carlos yet cautioning you to brace for the truth.

Your heart beat erratically, torn between the desire to uncover the reality and the dread of what that reality might reveal. . . .

"Good morning, Princess," you heard Carlos say as he emerged from behind a bush, his mask still on from yesterday.

You were in your garden, the same place where Carlos had left you last night. His presence startled you, but you quickly composed yourself, determined to face him.

"Carlos," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sound of his real name, betraying a flicker of vulnerability. "I see you know the truth," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

"I need to know the full truth. Why did you hide your identity from me?"

His eyes flickered with a mixture of guilt and resolve as he stepped closer, the morning light casting shadows across his masked face.

"I never intended to deceive you," he said softly.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, Carlos reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face that was both strikingly handsome and etched with sorrow. Your breath hitched at the sight, your heart skipping a beat as you took in the chiseled features and the intense eyes that had once seemed so distant.

It was as if a barrier had been lifted between you, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

"I feared that revealing my true identity would ruin the connection we had built. Our fathers have a long history of conflict, and I didn't want that to stand between us. But now, I realize that honesty is the only way forward. I hope you can understand and find it in your heart to trust me once more."

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. "Carlos, this isn't just about our fathers' past. It's about the trust between us, the foundation of any relationship," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

"You should have told me the truth from the beginning. How can I be sure there aren't other secrets you're hiding?"

Carlos looked down, his expression a mix of shame and determination. "I understand your hesitation, but I promise you, there are no more secrets. I want to build a future with you based on honesty and trust. Please, give me a chance to prove myself," he implored, reaching out to take your hand.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deceit, but all you saw was sincerity and a deep longing. "Carlos, this isn't going to be easy," you said, your voice softening.

"Trust has to be earned, and it will take time for me to fully trust you again. But I want to try. I want to believe that we can overcome this, together."

Carlos's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Thank you," he whispered, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I promise I will do whatever it takes to show you that my intentions are true. No more secrets, no more lies. Just us, facing the world together."

You nodded, feeling a cautious optimism bloom within you.

The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, you both felt that it might just be possible to forge a future built on a foundation of truth and mutual respect.

"Good," you muttered, cupping his face to place a kiss on his lips.

The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters of this newfound honesty. But soon, it deepened with a mutual understanding that this was the first step towards mending what had been broken.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, seeing the determination etched in his gaze.

"Well," you said with a playful smile, "if we're going to start fresh, maybe we should celebrate with dinner tonight. How about you cook for me? I've been dying to taste your famous paella."

Carlos chuckled, a spark of mischief lighting up his eyes. "Ah, my culinary skills, eh? You know, I only bring out my best recipes for special occasions. But for you, I think I can make an exception."

"You'd better," you teased, giving him a light nudge. "And don't think you can win me over with just food. I'm expecting some serious effort on your part."

Carlos grinned, his confidence returning. "Challenge accepted. Just wait, by the end of the night, you won't have any doubts about my commitment to us."

You both laughed, the tension easing as you basked in the warmth of this new beginning, ready to face whatever came next, together. . . .

Carlos couldn't help but sneak another glance at the grand Alfonso mansion as he crept through the garden, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered, finally reaching the veranda where you stood waiting.

"Absolutely," you whispered back, a smile playing on your lips. "I've thought about it, and I don't want to waste any more time. If we're going to build a future together, let's start now."

Carlos took a deep breath, looking deep into your eyes. "Then let's do it. Let's get married. I'll make Friar Laurence wed us tomorrow."

You nodded, feeling a rush of exhilaration. "Yes, Carlos. Let's take this leap of faith together. No more doubts, no more hesitation. Just us, united in a promise to face everything hand in hand."

"Until tomorrow, princess. I can't wait to make you my wife," Carlos said, kissing your knuckles.

Your heart raced as his warm lips brushed against your skin. The way he looked at you, with such adoration and longing, sent shivers down your spine. You knew in that moment that there was no one else you'd rather spend the rest of your life with.

"I can hardly contain my excitement," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "The thought of becoming your wife fills me with such joy."

Carlos smiled, his eyes sparkling with love. "Then it's settled. Tomorrow, in front of all our loved ones, I will make you mine forever." He brought your hand to his lips once more, sealing the promise with a tender kiss.

As he reluctantly pulled away, you already felt the loss of his touch. But the knowledge that soon you would be bound to him for eternity filled you with a sense of peace and belonging.

Tomorrow could not come soon enough.

The next day, under the cover of dawn, you and Carlos made your way to Friar Laurence's small chapel. The early morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor.

Friar Laurence stood at the altar, a knowing smile on his face as you approached. "Are you both ready to take this step?" he asked softly, his voice filled with warmth and understanding.

Carlos squeezed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes, Friar," he replied with unwavering certainty. "We are ready to start our life together."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a swell of emotion rise in your chest.

Friar Laurence began the ceremony, his words a soothing balm to your anxious heart. As you exchanged vows, the world outside seemed to fade away.

Friar Laurence started, "Carlos and Y/N, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May your union bring an end to the conflict between your families."

Carlos said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thank you, Friar Laurence. With this marriage, I hope my father and Y/N's father can find peace."

"As do I, Carlos. Our love will show them that there is a way forward, beyond this senseless feud."

Friar Laurence smiled, "I pray that your marriage will be the first step towards reconciliation. May God bless you both."

For those precious moments, it was just the two of you, bound by love and the promise of a future together. . . .

Later that afternoon, Carlos met with Mercutio in the secluded garden behind his family's estate. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the gentle hum of bees.

Benvolio, ever the jester, was the first to speak. "Carlos, you look like a man with a secret. Do tell, what has you so radiant today?"

Carlos couldn't suppress his joy any longer. "My friend, I have wonderful news. This morning, Y/N and I were married in Friar Laurence's chapel."

Benvolio's eyes widened in surprise. "Married? So soon? But what about the feud between your families? Do they know?"

Carlos shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "Not yet, but we hope that our union will be the catalyst for peace. We believe that our love can end this senseless conflict. Now, more than ever, we need your support and discretion."

However, he is soon stopped when he sees Tybalt Alfonso, Y/N's cousin, there arguing with Mercutio. The tension in the garden was palpable, cutting through the serene atmosphere like a knife.

Tybalt's face was flushed with anger as he pointed an accusing finger at Mercutio. "What are you doing here, Montague?"

Tybalt spat, his voice laced with venom. "This garden is not for the likes of you."

Mercutio, ever the provocateur, smirked and replied, "Oh, Tybalt, must you always be so dramatic? We're simply enjoying the lovely weather. Besides, Carlos invited us."

Carlos stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "Tybalt, please, this isn't the time for old grudges."

Tybalt glared at Carlos, his eyes burning with fury. "You dare refuse my challenge?" he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "We are sworn enemies, and you will face me in combat!"

Carlos held up his hands, his expression calm and resolute. "I cannot, Tybalt. You are like family to me. I love you as a brother, and I will not raise my hand against you."

Tybalt's brow furrowed in confusion, his anger momentarily tempered by the unexpected response. "What madness is this?" he demanded.

"We have been at odds for years, and now you claim to love me as kin?"

"It is no madness, Tybalt," Carlos replied evenly. "My heart has changed, and I see now that our feud has been a foolish and pointless thing. Let us put aside our differences and embrace as family."

Tybalt's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "You mock me with your words, Carlos," he growled.

"I will not be swayed by your honeyed tongue. The time for talk is over - draw your sword and fight, or be forever branded a coward!"

"I cannot believe you refuse to fight like a true man," Mercutio spat, his eyes narrowed in frustration as Carlos once again declined the challenge.

"Do you not have the courage to face me on the battlefield?"

Carlos averted his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean no disrespect, Mercutio, but I have no desire to engage in such violence. Perhaps we could resolve this matter peacefully."

Mercutio scoffed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Peaceful? Bah! You dishonour yourself and all those around you with your cowardice."

He stepped forward, his chin raised defiantly. "If you will not fight, then I shall take your place and show you how a true warrior conducts himself."

Before Carlos could protest, Mercutio had already turned to face Tybalt, his sword drawn and his stance ready.

"En garde, Tybalt!" he called out, his voice ringing with a mixture of anger and excitement. "Let us see who is the better swordsman!"

Tybalt and Mercutio drew their swords, the blades gleaming in the sunlight as they began to duel.

The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed through the streets as the two men traded fierce blows, their movements swift and precise.

Sensing the escalating tension, Carlos attempted to intervene, stepping between the combatants in a desperate bid to stop the fighting.

However, Tybalt, blinded by rage, lashed out with his sword, aiming to strike Carlos but instead catching Mercutio in the chest.

Mercutio cried out in pain as the blade pierced his flesh, crimson blood spilling onto the cobblestones. He staggered backward, his own sword slipping from his grasp as he clutched at the wound.

Tybalt, realising his mistake, hesitated for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and regret.

The brief pause was all Carlos needed to seize Tybalt's sword arm, wrestling the weapon from his grip and forcing him to the ground. Mercutio, his strength fading, collapsed to his knees, his laboured breaths echoing in the stunned silence that had fallen over the scene.

Mercutio drew his final, shuddering breath, his body racked with agony. He turned to his friend Carlos, pain etched across his face.

"Alas, dear friend, I fear my end is nigh," Mercutio said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This wound, it burns like fire, sapping my strength with every passing moment."

Carlo grasped Mercutio's hand, tears welling in his eyes. "Speak not of such things, good Mercutio. You shall recover, I promise you."

Mercutio managed a weak smile. "Nay, Romeo, my time has come. Promise me, promise me you'll not forget me." Romeo nodded solemnly, a single tear cascading down his cheek.

"I shall never forget you, my dearest friend."

Carlos's heart ached with unbearable sorrow as he held Mercutio's hand tightly. "Your memory will live on in my heart forever, Mercutio," he vowed, his voice breaking.

With a final squeeze, he watched helplessly as the light faded from his friend's eyes. . . .

Carlos felt furious at Tybalt for killing Mercutio. The death of his dear friend had left him overcome with rage.

How dare Tybalt take Mercutio's life in such a callous manner? Carlos seethed with anger, his fists clenched as he replayed the tragic events in his mind.

In that moment, all Carlos could think about was avenging Mercutio. The thirst for retribution burned within him, clouding his judgment.

He knew he had to confront Tybalt, to make him pay for this heinous act. Carlos was determined to ensure justice was served, no matter the cost. His grief had morphed into a fierce, unyielding desire for vengeance.

Carlos scanned the area, his eyes narrowing as he searched for Tybalt. The coward had fled, leaving chaos and heartbreak in his wake. Carlos's rage intensified with every passing second, knowing that Tybalt had not only taken Mercutio's life but had also escaped without facing the consequences of his actions.

The thought of Tybalt's cowardice fueled his resolve, and he vowed to track him down, no matter how long it took or how far he had to go.

Determined and unwavering, Carlos rose to his feet, his mind singularly focused on his mission. He would hunt Tybalt to the ends of the earth if necessary, driven by a mix of grief and fury.

The streets that once seemed familiar now felt like a labyrinth he had to navigate to find his enemy.

As he moved forward, each step was a promise to Mercutio: justice would be served, and the pain inflicted upon his friend would not go unanswered.

Carlos and Tybalt found each other in the dimly lit alleyway, the tension between the two palpable. They circled one another, eyes locked, hands gripping their weapons tightly.

Without warning, Tybalt lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air. Carlos parried the attack, the sound of steel clashing against steel echoing through the narrow passage. The two men traded blows, their movements quick and precise, each one trying to gain the upper hand.

The fight raged on, neither man willing to back down. Tybalt's attacks grew more frenzied, his desperation fueling his strikes.

Carlos, however, remained calm and focused, his counterattacks landing with devastating precision.

In a final, desperate attempt, Tybalt made one last lunge.

But Carlos was ready, and with a swift, decisive movement, he plunged his blade deep into Tybalt's chest. Tybalt's eyes widened in shock, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Carlos stood over Tybalt's lifeless body, his chest heaving with the adrenaline of the fight. The rage that had fueled him moments ago began to ebb, replaced by a heavy, somber silence.

He glanced up at the darkened sky, a sense of emptiness washing over him as he realized that, despite his victory, the void left by Mercutio's death could never truly be filled.

Realising what he has done, Carlos fled in a panic. The weight of his actions overwhelmed him, and he knew he could not face the consequences.

The Prince arrived on the scene, his expression grave.

With a booming voice, he declared, "Carlos, your crimes for killing Tybalt are unforgivable. You are hereby banished from Aragonia, effective immediately. You must leave our lands at once and never return, lest you face the full extent of our justice."

Carlos trembled, knowing there was no arguing with the Prince's decree.

You crumpled to the floor, the news of your cousin Tybalt's death and your husband Carlos' banishment hitting you like a tidal wave. Tears streamed down your face as you clutched the letter that had delivered such devastating news.

The room seemed to spin, and you felt an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The love you had for Carlos was now intertwined with the grief and anger over Tybalt's demise, leaving you torn and shattered.

Days turned into nights, and the sorrow did not relent. You wandered through your home, haunted by memories of happier times, now tainted by the tragedy that had befallen your family.

Friends and family tried to console you, but their words felt hollow, unable to bridge the chasm of pain that consumed you.

The future seemed bleak, and you struggled to find a way forward, questioning how you could ever rebuild your life with the two most important people ripped away from you.

Each moment brought a fresh wave of anguish, the love for Carlos clashing violently with the grief and anger over Tybalt's death. You found yourself trapped in an endless cycle of longing and resentment, unable to reconcile the two.

At night, when the world was quiet, the memories of Carlos's gentle touch would surface, only to be shattered by the haunting vision of Tybalt's lifeless body, leaving you torn between the man you loved and the cousin you had lost.

"Y/N! Open the window door!" you heard someone too familiar say at your balcony at night.

You were about to sleep when you ran to the balcony to see Carlos, your husband who was supposed to be banished from the kingdom for killing your cousin.

"Carlos, what are you doing here?" you asked, opening the window for him, still angry for his actions.

"Y/N, my love, I had to come back. I couldn't live without you," Carlos pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation.

"I know what I did was wrong, but I did it to protect you. That cousin of yours was a threat, and I had to eliminate him."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Protect me? By murdering my own flesh and blood? Do you have any idea what you've done? You're a wanted man, Carlos. If they find you here, they'll kill you."

"I don't care about that," he said, reaching for your hand. "All that matters to me is you. I love you, Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to be with you."

You pulled your hand away, your heart torn between your love for Carlos and the weight of his actions. "Carlos, you have to leave. This is madness. I can't protect you, and I can't be with you, not after what you've done."

"They didn't tell anyone but your cousin killed Mercutio," Carlos muttered.

"What? That can't be true," You exclaimed, your heart racing. "My cousin would never do such a thing!"

Carlos shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid it is true. I was there, I tried to stop them. They were trying to cover it up. I'm sorry I killed Tybalt but it was justice for Mercutio,"

You felt a sense of disbelief wash over you.

"Tell me everything, Carlos," you demanded, your voice trembling. "I need to know exactly what happened that night."

Carlos took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "It all started when I was telling Mercutio about our marriage. Tybalt suddenly came out of nowhere and challenged us to fight. Tybalt lost his temper and attacked him. I tried to intervene, but it was too late. When I saw Mercutio fall, I knew I had to act."

You could see that Carlos wasn't lying through his eyes, which made you feel even worse. You walked further into your room, your hand on your face, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you.

Carlos followed you, quietly closing the window behind him to ensure no one would hear your conversation.

"Y/N, I know this is difficult to accept, but I had no choice," Carlos said softly, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't let Tybalt get away with what he did to Mercutio. Our friend needed justice, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Carlos, despite the anger and betrayal still burning within you. The room felt suffocating, the weight of the truth pressing down on you both.

"Y/N, I didn't come here to discuss bloodshed and the past," Carlos said, his voice steadying as he took a step closer to you.

"Then what did you come here to discuss?" you asked, leaning against the nearest wall to face him, your eyes searching his for answers.

"Us," he muttered, looking down at the floor. "We haven't really consummated the marriage, have we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. "Carlos, this isn't the time," you whispered, trying to hold back the storm of emotions. "Our lives are in danger, and all you can think about is us?"

Carlos raised his eyes to meet yours, determination etched in his features. "Yes, because despite everything, I love you. And I need to know if there's still a chance for us, if you still love me too."

You stood there, stunned by his confession. The love you once felt for Carlos was now tangled with the pain of recent events. "Carlos," you began, struggling to find the right words.

"I don't know if I can just forget everything that happened. Mercutio's death, the feud—it has all changed us. But I can't deny that a part of me still cares for you."

Carlos took another step closer, his eyes softening. "Then let that part guide you," he pleaded. "We can find a way through this, together. We can honor Mercutio by trying to build something better, something that isn't marred by hatred and violence."

You searched his eyes, longing to believe in the possibility of a future where love could triumph over the shadows of the past.

"Y/N, I want you," he said, his voice low and husky.

You looked up at him, your heart racing. You wanted him too, but you were still scared. . . .

"I don't know if I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling.

Carlos took a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll be gentle, I promise," he said, his fingers tracing the outline of your face.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, you knew you couldn't resist him any longer. You took a deep breath and nodded, and Carlos led you inside.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Carlos pulled you close and kissed you, his lips hot and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body melting against his.

He started to undress you, his hands skillfully removing your clothes. You stood there, trembling with anticipation, as he kissed every inch of your body.

When he reached your breasts, he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked, his tongue swirling around it. You let out a moan, your body responding to his touch.

He continued to explore your body, his hands and mouth leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When he reached your pussy, he spread your lips apart and started to lick and suck, his tongue delving deep inside you.

You let out a loud moan, your body writhing with pleasure. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers joining in to stimulate your clit.

You felt an orgasm building inside you, and you grabbed onto Carlos's head, pulling him closer. "Don't stop," you moaned. "Don't stop."

He didn't stop, and soon you were crying out in pleasure, your body shaking as you came hard against his mouth.

When you finally came down from your orgasm, Carlos stood up and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. You could taste your own juices on his lips, and it only turned you on more.

He reached down and pulled out his cock, and you could see the desire in his eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he entered you in one swift motion.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you up, your body adjusting to his size. He started to thrust, slowly at first, and then faster and harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. You could feel another orgasm building inside you, and you urged him on.

"Harder, Carlos," you moaned, "harder."

He responded by thrusting even harder, his cock hitting your G-spot with every stroke. You let out a loud cry as you came again, your body shaking with pleasure.

Carlos continued to thrust, his own orgasm building. He let out a loud groan as he came, his hot cum filling you up.

You collapsed against him, your bodies slick with sweat. You kissed him, your tongues intertwined, and you knew that you had made the right decision.

"Let's run away together," you muttered breathlessly, your lips still tingling from the intensity of your kiss.

Carlos looked into your eyes, his face softening with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. "You mean it?" he asked, his voice filled with hope and disbelief.

You nodded, feeling a surge of certainty wash over you. "Yes, let's leave everything behind and start fresh, just the two of us."

Carlos smiled, a glimmer of excitement flickering in his eyes. "I’ve wanted this for so long. We can go anywhere you want," he said, caressing your cheek. "Paris, Bali, or even a small cabin in the mountains. As long as I'm with you, nothing else matters."

You kissed him again, your decision cemented by the passion you shared, ready to embark on a new journey together.

"You stay here and rest, and I'll pack for you," he said, sitting up with a playful smirk. "I've gotten a good eye for fashion, you know."

You laughed, feeling a sense of relief and exhilaration wash over you. "Oh really? I'd love to see your choices," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Carlos stood up and began gathering clothes and essentials, his movements quick and efficient. "Trust me, you'll look amazing in everything I pick," he said confidently.

You watched him, a smile playing on your lips, feeling a newfound sense of freedom. "I can't wait to see where this adventure takes us," you murmured, your heart swelling with anticipation.

Carlos turned to you, holding up a sundress and a pair of sandals. "How about this for our first stop in Paris? It's perfect for a romantic stroll along the Seine," he suggested with a wink.

You giggled, nodding your approval. "I love it! And maybe a hat to go with it? We don't want to look like typical tourists," you added with a playful grin.

He chuckled, placing the outfit in the suitcase. "Consider it done. And for the mountains, I've got just the thing—cozy sweaters and boots for those chilly nights by the fireplace," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You felt a rush of warmth and affection, knowing that no matter where you went, as long as you were together, it would be perfect.

"Here's to new beginnings," you said, raising an imaginary glass, and Carlos joined in, the two of you basking in the glow of your shared dreams and the promise of endless possibilities. . . .

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Matilda burst into your room, her face pale with panic.

"Where are you?!" she screamed, her voice trembling with fear. She tore through the room, throwing open the closet doors and rifling through drawers, but all she found was an empty suitcase and a note left behind.

Matilda's hands shook as she unfolded the note, her eyes scanning the familiar handwriting. "Dear Matilda, I've decided to start a new chapter with Carlos. I hope you understand. Please don't worry about me; I'm finally following my heart. Love, [Your Name]."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she knew deep down that you were doing what was best for you. She took a deep breath and whispered, "Be happy," sending her silent blessings to wherever your adventure was taking you.

Matilda took a moment to collect herself, then resolved to support your decision despite her initial shock. She decided to focus on her own journey, finding solace in the thought that you were finally pursuing your happiness.

Matilda knew that breaking the news to your family would be difficult, so she opted to tell a little white lie.

Over breakfast, she calmly explained to your parents that you had taken a spur-of-the-moment business trip and would be out of touch for a while.

"It's a great opportunity for her," she said, forcing a smile. "She didn't want to worry you with the details but assured me she'd be back soon."

Your parents exchanged concerned glances but ultimately trusted Matilda's explanation. As the days turned into weeks, she continued to cover for you, providing updates and reassuring them that you were doing well.

Deep down, Matilda felt the weight of the secret she was keeping, but she knew it was what you needed.

She found strength in the hope that one day, you would return to share your incredible journey with everyone. . . .

[areislol]

life as a monarch isn't easy, of course, but with a needy and infatuated concubine on top, it just makes your life and duties far more difficult than they need to be.

infatuated! chen liu, your favoured concubine, is a constant presence in your life. draped in the finest silks and adorned with gold ornaments, he’s the very picture of elegance—and perhaps a bit too spoiled.

his adoration for you is unmistakable, bordering on obsession, and it often complicates your already demanding responsibilities as a ruler.

he always follows you around wherever you are, his doe eyes filled with longing whenever you’re out of sight for too long. he’s ecstatic when you ask for him to accompany you, whether it's a simple walk through the gardens or a more formal event.

chen liu can’t stand the thought of sharing your time, let alone your affections. he pouts when you visit other palaces, pressing his lips to your ankle in a silent plea for reassurance. the more you distance yourself, the more insistent he becomes, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

despite this, you find it hard to reprimand him harshly. you know he would throw a tantrum if he could, but he’s careful not to embarrass you in public.

the tension between your duties and chen liu’s constant need for your presence grows more apparent. you’re often preoccupied with matters of state—diplomatic meetings, strategies to strengthen the kingdom, and managing the delicate balance of power among the nobles.

yet, every time you return to your chambers, you’re greeted by the sight of chen liu, waiting anxiously for a moment of your time.

he’s there when you wake up, his eyes lighting up the moment you acknowledge him. he’s by your side during meals, though his gaze is often fixated on you rather than the food. and in the evenings, he lingers near your quarters, hoping for an invitation to spend the night with you.

the other concubines are aware of his favoured status, and while they dare not voice their jealousy, you can sense the unease it creates. chen liu, however, seems oblivious to this, entirely focused on you.

but lately, his behaviour has started to concern you. he’s become more possessive, subtly questioning you about your visits to other palaces. his tone, once playful and adoring, now carries an undercurrent of fear—fear that you might one day choose someone else over him.

currently, you sat at your desk, surrounded by scrolls, letters, and missives as the morning sun streamed through the tall windows of your private chambers, casting a golden light across the finely woven tapestries and marble floors.

being a monarch was no simple task. today, like every day, you balanced the needs of your kingdom with the politics of foreign palaces, trying to secure alliances and maintain peace.

as you read through a letter from a neighbouring royal house, a soft knock came at the door. without needing to look up, you knew who it was—chen liu.

"enter," you called, your voice steady but distracted.

chen liu stepped into the room, dressed in his usual elegant robes of rich silk. his movements were graceful, but you could sense the tension in the way he carried himself.

he always exuded poise, but there was something in his demeanour today that seemed... off. you knew why, of course. chen liu did not enjoy sharing your attention, especially when that attention was given to other royals, diplomats, or anyone who took time away from him.

"your highness," he said softly, coming to stand beside your desk. His eyes flicked over the scrolls, his lips pressing into a thin line before quickly returning to his usual soft expression. "allow me to bring you some tea."

you smiled, though your eyes remained on the parchment in front of you. "thank you, chen liu. tea would be nice."

He bowed his head, his silky raven-coloured hair cascading in silky waves, framing a face that was both delicate and striking, an eye candy that drew attention effortlessly as he turned to fetch the tea. the room was quiet again, but you could feel his silent frustration in the air.

chen liu never voiced his jealousy, never acted out, especially not in public, but you knew him well enough to recognise the small signs: the way his jaw tightened when you spoke of foreign dignitaries, the way his hands lingered a little longer when he served you as if trying to reclaim your focus.

when he returned with the tea, he poured it with the same careful elegance he always did, setting the cup before you. you took a sip, grateful for the warmth, but you couldn’t ignore the quiet tension.

"you’ve been distracted lately," he said softly, standing beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk. "so many letters, so many meetings. your attention is always... elsewhere."

you paused, setting the cup down and finally looking up at him. his expression was calm, but his dark eyes held a sadness, a quiet frustration.

“you’ve been visiting the phoenix feather abode often,” he remarks one evening, his voice tinged with unease. he’s kneeling at your feet now—something he grew fond of doing—his fingers lightly brushing against your robes as if seeking to anchor himself to you.

“is there someone there who’s captured your interest?”

you sigh, not again.

“my duties require me to visit all the palaces,” you explain gently, hoping to ease his mind. “it’s not a matter of preference, chen liu.”

but he remains unconvinced, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “then why have you not visited me as often?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “have i done something to displease you?”

you can visibly see how his brows furrow, the fear that he’s losing his place in your heart. it’s a delicate situation, one that requires careful handling. you reach out, lifting his chin so that he meets your gaze directly.

"you could never displease me, liu," you assured him, "you are my most cherished companion, but i cannot let my personal desires interfere with the needs of the kingdom."

chen liu knows that, he knows that there's no one else in the world who could make you as happy as he could, who could satisfy you, who could meet your needs. but even so, he wishes you could just focus on him even if it was a couple of minutes.

his fingers tightened around the hem of your robe, his eyes filled with desperation. "your majesty," he murmured, his voice trembling, "please, just a moment of your time. i need you... i need your touch."

you could feel the intensity of his need as he clung to you, his gaze pleading. it was clear that his heart ached with the absence of your presence, with a sigh, you gently pried his fingers from your robe, your touch tender despite the firm resolve in your voice.

"chen liu," you began softly, "i understand your worries, but... please understand, my duties require me to be away. the alliances and meetings are absolutely crucial for the stability of the kingdom."

his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "i know, your majesty. it's just that... every day, it feels like I'm losing a piece of you. the time we used to share seems like a distant memory."

he knows the way he's acting right now is childish. he was a concubine, your concubine, not a lover.

liu's patience seemed to wear thin as he gripped your robe with frustration, his earlier submissive demeanour subsiding. "you know i don't like it when you pay attention to anyone other than me," he murmured, his teeth gritting with irritation.

his eyes, once filled with pleading, now sparkled with a challenging glint. "why bother going to see those men? you have me."

"it's not fair, you know. you spend so much time with them, making deals and alliances, while i'm left here, waiting for scraps of your attention. do i mean so little to you now?"

your eyes widened slightly at the shift in his tone. his behaviour caught you off guard, although you weren't all that surprised by his brattiness. he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as if to shield himself from the reality of your obligations.

"i will not discuss this any further," you said firmly, your tone brooking no argument. "feel free to stay and be silent or leave."

chen liu's eyes widened at the finality in your voice, a mix of defiance and hurt flickering across his face. he took a deep, shaky breath, his posture shifting as he grappled with his emotions.

he hesitated, glancing around the room with an air of uncertainty. the room, filled with the soft glow of lanterns and the muted colours of opulent silks, suddenly felt colder to him.

he lowered his gaze, a sign of both surrender and submission. "i apologise," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "i'll stay."

chen liu remained at his spot beside your legs, his earlier brattiness replaced by a sulking silence.

you watched him for a moment, your heart heavy with the knowledge that the distance between you had grown despite your best efforts. turning back to your paperwork, you felt a pang of sadness, but what else could you do?

as you continued with your tasks, you cast occasional glances at your concubine. despite his silent brooding, he stayed put, and before you both knew it, hours passed, and as the day drew to a close, you finally set aside your work.

the room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the floor. you turned to find chen liu still there, his eyes fighting hard to stay open.

with a sigh, you reached out your hand, beckoning him closer. he wasted no second, rising to his feet and standing up. his fingers brushed against yours, and for the first time that day, you allowed yourself to let go of your burdens, if only for a moment.

"come," you said softly, pulling him into your embrace. "you’ve waited long enough."

his arms wrapped around you tightly, his head resting against your shoulder as if he feared you might slip away again.

for tonight, you could afford to forget the world outside. for tonight, chen liu would be your world, just as fate wished for you two to be.

and as you held him, his grip tightened, just slightly, silently promising that he’d never let you go, no matter what.

[medusas-graveyard]

Comfort In A Knight

There was an uproar in the infinite realms after they found out about the GIW's imprisonment of the crowned prince, and as an attempt to damage control, he decides to hold a temporary martial law over the dimension. Some are upset, of course; but all of them ultimately acknowledges the young ruler's attempts on not starting an interdimensional war.

A few months go by, and while the inhabitants of the infinite realms all calmed down from the initial uproar, ironically, the crowned prince is the one getting agitated by the meddling of humans. All the pressure of his monarch lessons so he could take the king mantel, civil conflict between different parts of the realm, and some extremist rebellions are slowly making him more tired, anxious, and easily agitated. The once lawful neutral prince has turned into someone who would get rid of anyone he deemed as a bug, squashed by the heel of his boots.

Tl:Dr; He's tired of everyone's bullshit.

.

So really, it's not a surprise to see his eldritch self bounded inside a summoning circle, surrounded by Justice League members because of course he is.

"What do you want."

He's really contemplating on going 'fuck it' and destroy earth right now.

...that is, before a familiar gruffy voice called out to him.

"That's enough, Charon."

He whipped his head (if you can call it that) to the direction of the voice, finding batman's figure walking closer to him, ignoring the yelling from other Justice League members.

Eventually, he drops his act and turn into the teenager the Batman is all too familiar with. The boy drops his hand below the golden ribcage nestled on his chest, the familiar white hair peeking out of his hood slightly move around non-existent air, as his Lazarus green eyes stared at the dark knight, causing his Calavera–painted face to scrunch.

The man didn't stop for a second as he trudged closer, only stopping when he's directly Infront of the ghost, all within arms reach.

"I'm right here."

For the first time in several months, the prince finds himself breaking down into a sob. He easily destroyed the (poor attempt of a) binds caging him, throwing himself to the Knight's body.

The rest of the League stared at them dumbfoundedly, before Batman eventually sighed.

"Justice league; Phantom. Crowned prince of the infinite realms."

"...And my ward."

Notes:

Reference on Danny's clothing

Yep. Another adoptee au

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, I hope to make up for it in the following one, which is planned to include more moments between Daemon and the reader. Enjoy!!

Daemon found you standing in front of the Weirwood tree the next morning.

“Do your people not sleep?” He asked as he approached you. “Or is it something special to you?”

A soft giggle left your lips as you turned to face him, your long hair swaying with the wind. “Everyone needs sleep, Daemon Targaryen, even us,” you responded, your eyes meeting his purple ones. “Though you are right that I did not sleep last night. There were things to be done.”

“Are you going to inform your King of these things you are talking about?” Daemon asked with an arched brow, you could tell he was trying to test the waters, to see whether your loyalties laid blindly with him.

You spoke with a warning tone. “As I told you last night, I have no king, Daemon.” Only a fool would fail to sense the wind changing around you as you spoke, the words left your lips sharply. “I am no men, hence I am neithersubject to your customs nor to your monarch.”

From the way he clenched his jaw, it was obvious that Daemon was trying to keep his temper under control – from what you had seen the night before in your visions, even the slightest bit of effort he gave in the name of anger management was a tremendous step. “Even you cannot roam the Seven Kingdoms, doing what you please, without answering to the monarch, Lúthril – if you live in these lands, you have to obey its rulers.”

He spoke the words with a hard tone, putting emphasis on almost each one, all the while his huge frame towered over yours, in an attempt to assert his dominance. Of course, such a manner could have very well worked in the past; however, you were an ancient enchantress of the purest and the mightiest race the world has ever seen – no men could intimidate you. Not even the Heir of the Dragon.

As a response, you took a step towards him, looking up to meet his gaze with determination in your eyes. “I do not intend to stay long,” your voice was low but your words carried a different kind of power. “You are my last mission in this world – afterwards, I shall join my brothers and sisters in the land of eternal peace and harmony.”

Daemon looked at you for a while before speaking, his warm breath was licking against your forehead each time he exhaled. “You are a strange kind of woman.”

You did not say anything.

Upon hearing the footsteps approaching, you stepped away from Daemon as both of you turned to see the person. As soon as her emerald eyes found your graceful figure standing beside the King Consort, horror was visible on Alys Rivers’ face. “No, no, no, no!” her voice was becoming louder each time. “This cannot be true.” Quickly, the witch turned her gaze to Daemon. “What have you done?!”

In the blink of an eye, the Dark Sister’s sharp blade was against Alys Rivers’ throat, pinning her at her place. “Watch your tongue, witch.” Daemon spoke with an ice-cold tone, resembling that of a king at that very moment. “Do I have to remind you whom you are talking to?”

Gently, you placed your left hand on Daemon’s arm, causing him to lower the Dark Sister as his gaze travelled to your face which seemed to shine with an unearthly glow under the rays of the sun. “We both have known for long that this day was coming, Ingolme.” You addressed Alys Rivers as witch in the language of your people. “You should have prepared yourself better.”

Alys Rivers shook her head in disappointment, her emerald eyes traveling to Daemon. “You have no idea what you are tempering with.”

Before giving Daemon the chance to talk, you started walking towards Alys, causing her to straighten her back, standing in an alarmed way. “I do not recall having harmed you, Ingolme.” You spoke to her with a voice sweeter than honey, the air circling around you was causing the skirts of your dress to move around your feet. “I have given you no reason to fear me. You have another motive.”

As the wind got stronger, messing with both Daemon’s and Alys’ hair, it started whispering in your ear everything you needed to know – it was a gift from the Gods. The wind told you what was motivating Alys Rivers in keeping you locked away and you had to admit – she had every reason to fear you. As long as you were alive, free and by Daemon’s side; only the one-eyed-death would visit her on her path.

“Such a pity,” you muttered after the strong wind left its place to a soft breeze. “All these years of experience and yet, you still believe you are capable of changing the fracture points in one’s destiny.” You tilted your head to the side. “Has the story of how my people vanished not taught you anything at all?”

The shadows started to grow under Alys’ feet, becoming taller with each passing moment, making their way towards you. “You think you are so clever, enchantress,” Alys spat out the words as if they were venom, “but you are not one of us – you are a stranger to the games that are played here. Your magic alone cannot win the game of thrones.”

With a swift movement of your fingers, you let the celestial light radiate off your body so strongly that not only the shadows faded away but Alys and Daemon had to shield their eyes. Before the conflict between you two could get any further, Daemon interfered, his strong voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Enough!” His voice echoed around you, scaring away the birds. “I will not allow this nonsense any further. Witch, leave us alone.” His last words were directed at Alys, who sent you one last deadly glare before hurrying into the castle. Her words, however, flowed into your mind, only for you to hear.

You may have his ear for now, enchantress, but no one holds a dragon’s loyalty for long.

It was hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes – it was clear that at some point in the future, the witch of Harrenhal was going to bother you to a great extent – unless you somehow found a way to put shackles around her powers.

As soon as Alys Rivers was gone, Daemon turned to face you with fury in his purple eyes once again. “I do not need your magic to win any game – the throne will be mine through fire and blood.”

Your voice was tranquil as you spoke, the celestial light was gone now. “I never told you that I intended to win the throne for you, Daemon.” A strand of hair was falling in front of your eyes. “My sole purpose here, right now, is to advise you, guide you through your path but only if you will let me.”

The stubbornness was dripping from his words. “My fate is not something for you to shape.”

“The Gods have already woven the threads of your destiny, Daemon, but your choices will determine which path you follow. I can only help you see the way away from death and misery —if you are willing to look.”

Your words seemed to take Daemon by surprise, he was unable to hide the fear falling onto his eyes as he put away the Dark Sister. “You have seen what awaits me?” He asked with a low voice, the sudden change in his attitude was almost scary. You nodded. “Can you… show it to me? The way you showed me your past?”

A bitter smile formed on your lips as you took a step towards him, resting your left hand against his right cheek. Daemon didn’t push it back. “It is forbidden to speak of those I have seen, let alone show them to you.” You took a deep breath. “When the time comes, the Gods will show you everything you need to know.”

When he felt that you were getting ready to pull your hand back, Daemon placed his right one on your own, caressing the back of your hand. You pressed your lips against each other. “If I allow you to guide me, what guarantee do I have that you’re not leading me to ruin?” Daemon’s words were nothing but a mere whisper now – the fierce man was gone.

“There are bigger things at stake – bigger than you and me, than this hateful war of your family… Leading you to your ruin would have echoes far beyond you yourself, Daemon. It would be the first step in unleashing chaos on all of us, I cannot allow that to come pass.” With much willpower, you pulled your hand back, only to miss Daemon’s touch right away. “If it is more to your liking, you may think of me as your advisor -as all kings should have one.”

The edge of Daemon’s lips curled upwards, wind playing with his silver hair. “I believe everyone else here, in this cursed castle, shall know you as my advisor as well, Lúthril.” You both started walking towards the castle with slow steps. “If anyone should ask where you are coming from…”

You didn’t let Daemon finish his words. “I shall tell them it is none of their concern.”

A small laugh left Daemon’s lips, a sound so pleasant to the ear that it left you yearning to crawl into his arms to let his laugh embrace you. “This attitude of yours,” he said, “I find it amusing.” You sent him a warm smile, unaware of how Daemon carved that smile in his memory to recall it each time he found himself missing your company. “As my advisor, what do you suggest I should do next?”

“Your first step should be gaining the support of the riverlords by making up for the massacre William Blackwood and his men wrapped around your neck as an amulet of guilt.” You responded, not realising the way Daemon stopped abruptly as you walked through the corridors of the castle. “You need their bannerman – there is no other way to raise an army here… What is wrong?”

The absence of the footsteps following yours caused you to stop as well, looking back at Daemon, who stood a few meters behind you. He had a troubled expression on his face which was quite difficult to decipher.

“How do you know about William Blackwood and the massacre?” He asked, keeping his voice low. “You were still invisible in the dungeons when all these happened.”

The edge of your lips curled upwards. “The Gods reveal what they will, past and future alike.” You responded, causing Daemon to frown. “Nothing is hidden from their gaze—or mine.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa @superintenseart @immyowndefender @claud012 @ayamenimthiriel @vavafaure1994 @ilovegrishaverse

[alicentsgf]

this show would have been so much better if they’d made both sides way more equal. Because at the moment they’re not. There's a good side and a bad side. Like theres no way I can argue the greens are as ‘likeable’ as the blacks, even if I prefer to watch them. If they were so dead set on making the ‘choose a team’ thing such a big deal (which is all annoying promotional nonsense anyway but that's a point for another day) then I want to be TORN. they could have at least made it so not every bad thing that happens to the greens can be blamed on themselves. the writing just can't shake off the underlying heroes and villains narrative long enough to realise the whole point of this story is these are all meant to be complex, entire individuals who were for the most part just trying to survive. Both teams should be further into a grey area than they are. Ultimately both Alicent and Rhaenyra are just trying to keep their familys alive. That doesn't make them villains, even as it puts them at odds with each other. Why was this not dealt with in a more interesting way? It was right there to play with.

it would have been so easy to make us torn over who to support. Instead, the fanbase is split between a majority of team black, which is usually people who are approaching this from a watsonian perspective where they have bought into the ‘rightful ruler’ thing and also kinda understandably think rhaenyra would make a better monarch than her siblings, and a minority of team green, as people who are approaching it from a doylist perspective, meaning they just find team greens characterisation more interesting and don't rly care about the throne bc everyone dies anyway. And that's disappointing honestly. It should be split more evenly, that would make this story so much more engaging. Holding the greens in some way accountable for everything bad that happens to them and the blacks accountable for nothing does absolutely nothing to flesh out the core reality of this tragedy - the reality that this was always going to be the ending no matter the choices these characters made. It was set in motion before most of them were even born. The shows even written it so the death of poor little jaeherys can be blamed on his family. After daemon sent an assassin into their home!! Like are you serious. Its a weak disneyfied retelling of the original story, which is what literally no one comes to asoiaf for. stop trying to spoonfeed us and give us some real emotional turmoil for once!!!

[yanderambling]

Ahhh love your writing!! Can we get something for yan!ruler and their willing darling who's also their knight? Reader is pining towards their totally sweet and kind ruler and when the ball comes they're very sad cause now their Highness will dance with some noble and ofc fall in love and reader have never had a chance with the royalty anyway :((

But they didn't know those concerns were in vain🙂🙂

i'm so happy to hear that! and what a wonderful idea, thanks so much for sending it!! i may have taken it in a slightly different direction, but i hope you enjoy <3

concept: Submissive Monarch!Yandere(gn) x Pining Knight!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, slight manipulation, this one's actually p tame lol

You hadn't been working for Aschanti very long when they promoted you to their personal guard.

You were honored by the trust your noble ruler had in you, and you still work tirelessly to ensure that trust was not misplaced; the last thing you'd want to do is disappoint your dear sovereign.

Aschanti is a righteous and just power, they're clever and virtuous and surprisingly kind, to boot. You admire them immensely, and you're grateful every day for the privilege of being in their royal majesty's presence while you keep them safe and secure.

You couldn't be happier to be by your ruler's side all the time now.

Well... almost all the time.

You struggle at times like these, these high-class social gatherings where you have to watch them dazzle and charm (more so than usual), where they play nice and rub shoulders with the elites.

It just makes the divide between you two so much more prominent in your mind; you feel terribly out of place as a working hand among all these elegant nobles- and watching half of them squabble for Aschanti's attention is just the icing on the bitter cake.

They could have anyone they want, any of those beautiful scions that look so natural in all their fineries, that move with unfaltering grace and poise, that hold high status and social connections.

Why would they ever choose you?

You were meant for the sidelines, a lowborn made to stand in the shadows and keep your divine ruler safe while they live out their life before you.

You’ve known this for ages, and remind yourself often. But, unfortunately, this knowledge cannot seem to stop you from dreaming.

If only you stood a chance with them…

•

•

Aschanti has desired you since the first day you reported for duty.

You were so earnest, so absolute in your dedication to the crown, to them. And they could tell, they've seen countless knights pull the "happy hardworking hero" act to get in their good graces, but not you. You were real. You truly just wanted to protect them, to pledge your life to their rule, to defend their body and name alike based on only your ideals and instinct (you seem to rely on those for most decisions, and you’re very often right).

They put you on their personal guard almost immediately (which is lodged within the castle, naturally), terrified now at the idea of being so far from you after having been blessed by your glorious presence.

They always feel so comforted when they see your silhouette standing in their periphery, they lose their breath when they watch you scrutinize new persons for potential threats, their chest sets alight when they hear you shifting outside their bedroom door on your night guard (how they long for you to just come in one night and sweep them away...).

You make them feel safe, down in their very bones, until their head gets fuzzy and they just want to collapse into you and let you move and manipulate them however you desire.

They want nothing more than to be with you, to let you protect and take care of them forever, to let you have them, utterly and completely.

But they could never lay themself bare like that, especially not in front of you.

How disgraceful, for a monarch to want such perverted things from their guard, to yearn to be dominated by their own knight. They can't begin to imagine what the world might think- the council, their allies, the social elite- but that's absolutely nothing compared to their fears about you.

God, they wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye if you knew what they thought every time they see your muscles flex while you train, or when you place a gentle hand on the shoulder before walking ahead, or when your eyes get that thrilling, stony look when you focus on a task- they would cede their entire empire for you to look at them like that for just a minute while they knelt at your feet.

But then you would never look at them the same. You'd never respect them again. You’d likely be so disgusted that you would resign, and then where would they be?

They’d have to detain you somehow, of course, make up a collusion or the like; they know they would simply waste away in your absence, so leaving is just not an option.

But then still, you would never again gaze at them with those sparkling, idolizing eyes. You would never again toss them that encouraging grin that near blinds them every time they see it. You would never again see them as the honorable ruler you've looked up to since the beginning.

You would never love them.

No, it’s too risky.

At least they can still be with you like this, choking on their desire to melt into you at any given moment, desperately trying to maintain the illusion of respectability when all they can think about is your fingers around their throat.

It gets especially hard during the balls and what all; how can they even pretend to care about any of these highborn frivolities when you're standing mere feet away, watching them with those sharp, intoxicating eyes?

Funnily enough, you’re also the only thing that gets them through these circus acts.

Aschanti is always subtly watching you during these social events; they’ve perfected the art of staring as soon as your gaze shifts and looking away right before they're caught, it's kind of thrilling.

They entertain petty conversation as they recall the water that dripped down your neck when you chugged it after training yesterday, they laugh at bland jokes and picture your enchanting smile, they allow the occasional noble’s heir to place a flirtatious hand on their shoulder and imagine it’s your calloused fingers stroking their collar (they notice how you stiffen at the sight, how your lips purse and your hand tightens around your staff- it makes their blood pound just thinking you might be… oh, god, jealous over them. Maybe they lean into it a little, just to see your gaze harden. Oh, to think of all the ways you could punish them for their impertinence!)

It's still incredibly difficult for them, though.

They yearn for you every waking second.

They curse the inches between you when you stand in your place at their shoulder, they bask in the heat of your hand when you place it on their back to guide them, they imagine falling into your reassuring arms at the end of the day and try their best not to lose their composure each time.

Being with you is such sweet torture, one that they could never relinquish, because being without you would be closer akin to death.

If only you knew what they'd have you do to them...

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

[skyscrapergods]

Is the Sun proud, or perhaps even envious, of the way her student can connect to mortal ponies? (Thinking specifically of the Alicorn Twilight summary post, and her being able to have in-depth conversations with multiple ponies that "can last hours")

Celestia is proud of Twilight, yes. She is not envious, as having a relationship with tiny mortals is beyond what the sun cares about. They are so small, like motes of dust. She barely even misses them. She knows she is disconnected from mortal affairs and the chasm is far too deep for her light to reach.

Which is precisely why the sun took notice of Twilight Sparkle: she saw hope for a generation of magic where it's very definition is connection with mortals. Twilight created a friend for herself out of a rock, that's how important friendship was to her. If the gods could nurture this ache, could craft her life's path around connection with her fellow ponies, then she could become a bridge between gods and mortals for eternity.

It came with some unexpected consequences though. A goddess who cares first and foremost for mortal affairs is going to disagree with the way the other goddesses ran things for millennia. Celestia and Luna installed their own budding ruler as monarch of the crystal empire. But Twilight came in, listened to the subject's wishes, and convinced Cadance and the others to step down and allow a crystal pony to lead the crystal ponies instead of a colonist.

So rather than envy, there is a certain level of irritation. Twilight is here to promote the will of the people rather than the will of the gods. It's a direct consequence of her divine essence. She is the goddess of friendship, not of the sun or moon or romance. So of course she would have different priorities than the others. She is doing exactly what she was chosen to do and so much more.

As Twilight grows, Celestia and Luna realize more and more they are disconnected from mortals, and their will in picking rulers and making laws is out of touch, confusing, and damaging. They begin work to leave the kingdom in her hooves, trusting her to handle mortal affairs for the benefit of all. They shouldn't be surprised, then, when she dismantles the monarchy and steps down herself.

It's still shocking! But by now they've learned to listen to Twilight when she tells them of her conversations with tiny, insignificant ponies. They trust her to always prioritize harmony even at the expense of her own power.

This is why she was chosen, after all. To be what the sun could not be: a friend.

[chackyxyooj]

Your Grace

╭──────────.★..─╮

Description: You are the Queen and Laurance is one of your several consorts. However, he is less than amused over the fact that you have yet to spend a night with him. || ONESHOT, SMUT HURT/COMFORT(?)

Pairing: Consort!Laurance X Queen!Reader

WC: ~3k

CW: Strong Sexual Themes | NSFW

Series Masterlist

╰─..★.──────────╯

Sexual Content Ahead: If uncomfortable with this type of content, DNI! - Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It’s not uncommon for Kings or Queens to establish a royal consort when they become the primary ruler of their kingdom. In fact, it’s often encouraged for the ruler of a kingdom to have multiple consorts as a means to ensure the strength of their next of kin. You were no exception to this. Thus, as you ascended to your place on the throne you were expected to have a set of consorts established as soon as possible.

Being a man of great notoriety, Laurance Zvahl had never intended to join your consort. A rogue like him never humoured the idea of living his life at the hands of royalty, but things were different when they came to you.

Laurance’s first meeting with you proved how witty a crown princess could act in the face of danger - his second meeting with you only doubling down on that idea. Despite your wits, Laurance had never really thought you a very interesting monarch until the day he received commission from none other than your very own mouth. To think that a princess such as yourself would risk your position, much less your life, to ensure the prosperity of your kingdom… uncommon would be an understatement.

Much has happened between then and now but your commitment to your kingdom and its people never waivered. For that, Laurance respected you. It might be the only reason why he didn’t immediately kill the guard who came to inform him that you had extended an invitation to become an official figure in your consort.

It’s been over a month since Laurance Zvahl was officially situated in Your Grace’s harem. He’s heard talk amongst the other consorts that you’ve already visited many of your chosen lovers but Laurance has yet to share anything more than simple pleasantries with you. He assumes that a ruler such as yourself would be a busy one, but too busy to even spend a night or two with him? Surly not, right?

For what feels like the thousandth time, Laurance paces from one side of his room to the other. You’d think that a castle as large as this one would grant one privacy but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Laurance feels like he might go mad if another servant arrives at his chambers to ask what he wants for dinner, or when he wants his bath to be drawn, or… or for anything really!

Just as the thought crosses his mind, the incessant sound of knocking fills the room.

Without so much as a by your leave, the door to Laurance’s room creaks open. The boy practically flies over to confront whoever might have the gull to enter his room unannounced but he’s surprised to find that it’s you who stands before him.

“Your Grace!” The boy dips down in greeting without a moment’s hesitation. “For what do I owe the honor of your unexpected visit?”

Your eyes scan the interior of Laurance’s room before they gently land on the brunette. “I sent word to your personal retainer that I would be visiting your chambers tonight, but I see that your retainer is nowhere in sight. Why might that be the case?”

“Oh, them?” Laurance resists the urge to display any signs of contempt at the thought of his retainer. “I sent them away.”

“Again I ask: why might that be the case?”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

“Is that so?” Your eyes scan the interior of Laurance’s room a second time before stepping into his chambers and closing the door behind you. After walking a few paces and noticing that Laurance does not follow you, your gaze shifts back to the brunette. Even with just a slight shift in your gaze, Laurance can tell that you do not find any humour in his actions. “I did not assign you a retainer because I thought you needed to be watched or taken care of. I assigned you a retainer because a castle this large can get lonely. Having someone by your side can help alleviate that loneliness.”

“Is that so?” An involuntary huff escapes Laurance. Of course a queen like yourself would delegate the task of keeping him company to a mere servant. “Well I wouldn’t get lonely if you actually came to visit me.”

“Ah… I take it that you’re upset with me?” You attempt to hold Laurance’s hand but the boy sharply pulls away from you.

“How could I not be upset with you?!” Laurance scoffs, his pent up resentment slowly and surely bubbling up to the surface. “After the whole dinner fiasco, you left me behind without so much as a goodbye. Then after weeks of no contact your guard is the one to hunt me down and offer me a place in your consort. It’s bad enough to be treated like an outsider by everyone in your court, but the fact that you treat me this way too? It makes me wonder why you even brought me here in the first place.”

Laurance watches with a heavy gaze as you slowly reach forward and grasp his hands. They’re gentle and delicate compared to Laurance’s hands, but compared to that of a regular noble there’s no doubt that your hands are rough and calloused.

As if afraid to make any sudden movements, you gently pull yourself closer to Laurance until the boy can feel the heat of your body against his own. Have you always been this warm?

“I truly apologise for any hardships I’ve caused you by asking you here. If you truly do not desire to be my consort I will not hold you here. However, that is not to say that I do not want you here, because I do. I want you, Laurance.”

Laurance doesn’t realise that he’s turned his eyes away from you until you’re gently pulling his attention back. Your grasp on the boy’s jaw is so soft but your demand for the boy’s attention is anything but. If not a remarkable queen, you are most certainly a remarkable temptress - always knowing exactly what to do or say to get what you need out of the boy.

“Do you really think a few pretty words are enough to make me forgive you?”

“Of course not…” You chuckle softly to yourself. Your voice becomes softer as you gently lean in toward Laurance, moving forward until your lips just barely hover the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Laurance, what can I do to win back your favour?”

Laurance Zvahl had never intended to join your consort - a rogue like him never humoured the idea of living his life at the hands of royalty, but things were different when they came to you.

You always made things more difficult than they had to be.

“I…” Laurance’s breath catches in his throat as your breath trails down his neck. It makes Laurance shiver from both the feeling and the proximity, his heart thumping in his chest as a testament to his own desires. He'd have the nerve to call it irritating if it wasn’t so intoxicatingly addictive. “I want you, Your Grace.”

“What was that?” You gently press your lips against Laurance's jaw with an amused hum.

“Don’t-” Laurance swallows and shivers at the feeling of your lips on his jaw. A quiet, shaky exhale escapes from his lips. He can feel heat rising to his cheeks as he realises he’s already starting to lose this battle of wills. “Don’t play ignorant. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Pulling away from Laurance’s neck, the boy is able to catch the expression on your face. There’s hints of satisfaction in the way your lips curl into a pleasant smile, but your eyes hold nothing but affection. A sound of amusement bubbles up from your lips when you notice just how deeply Laurance stares at you, but you relent all the same.

“Come now, Laurance.” You whisper, trailing your hands up Laurance’s torso and coming to rest on his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you like to experience the full extent of being a consort in my court?”

“You’re playing dirty, Your Grace.”

“Is that too much for a rogue like you to handle?”

Laurance closes his eyes. He refuses to give in and insists on trying to ignore the heat that's spreading down his neck and across his chest. Though he is neither a noble nor a knight of high status, Laurance is not some helpless little doll to be teased and played with like this. Even as his hands find their way to your hips to grip them just a little too tight, Laurance can feel his stubborn resolve melting away.

”…Shut up, Your Grace.”

“If you insist, My Love.” Without another word you lean in toward Laurance and close the distance, your lips gently pressing against his.

Laurance can’t stop the small gasp that escapes him at the feeling of your lips against his own. He’d fantasised of this moment; of having you close and holding you to himself. He was losing his strength to keep up this tough-guy facade when all he had wanted for so long was for a moment like this.

The boy pulls you even closer to him, his grip on your hips becoming even more firm. His heart was practically racing in his chest as he returned your kiss.

In a heartbeat Laurance deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing over your bottom lip before nipping at the skin. He felt like he’d been starving for this - for you, for your touch. He was so wrapped up in this singular moment that he hadn’t even realised that you were slowly guiding the boy toward his bed. By the time he realises what you’ve done he’s already flush against his bedsheets.

The bed is cool against Laurance’s back, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of your hands against his torso. Everywhere you touch leaves a fire of desire in its wake.

As you slowly use your fingers to push his shirt up, you continue to kiss him. Laurance can’t help the sound of pleasure that slips past his lips and he lets go of your hips to help you remove his shirt. He wants to feel the warmth of your skin and to have you as close as possible.

Once the fabric of Laurance’s shirt is removed, you take a moment to admire the sight of his now bared chest. His breathing is slightly ragged but it’s not nearly as obvious as the flushed look on his face. The heat across his cheeks and across his torso was hard for Laurance to ignore as well - especially with how easily flustered he is because of you.

Though his mind is slowly becoming hazy with thoughts of you, Laurance shivers under the weight of your gaze. “Stop staring…”

You can’t help the short laugh that pushes past your lips. Though at first the action serves to make Laurance feel more conscious of himself, his worries fade away as you swiftly pull your robe off your shoulders and discard it somewhere on the floor.

He’s seen you this way once before, but that was nothing compared to now.

Laurance’s breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you half-naked on top of him and he can’t hold back the small, sharp gasp at the feeling of your bare skin against his own. Every inch of his skin feels like it’s burning and it’s hard to get words out when his mind is so focused on you.

“You-” He swallows, his hands shakily gripping your hips as though the moment he lets go you would disappear. The boy’s eyes dart across your form, trying to commit every inch to memory.

“Who’s the one staring now?” Your voice comes out playful, snapping Laurance out of his daze. For a moment your gaze bears into Laurance’s own desperate expression, making you realise the exact effect you have on the boy.

With a smile you lean down and kiss Laurance once more. Rather than allowing Laurance to kiss you in the feverish way he had before, you prolong the kiss. Your movements, your touch, heck, even the very breaths you take have become gentle. Everything about you has seemingly softened in all but a moment, yet you’re just as intoxicating as ever.

“Your Grace… Fuck…” Laurance moans out against your lips. He can hardly hold back his voice as you grind down against his hips. He can only imagine the kind of expression he might be making right now - how you might revel in evoking such a reaction in the first place - but he doesn’t have the time to worry about such things. Right now, all Laurance wants is you.

Laurance wants, no, needs you. He needs you more than he’s ever needed someone before. How do things always end up this way with you?

“I’m your consort, aren’t I?” Questions Laurance, earning a slight hum from you. With as much charm as the boy can muster, Laurance cups your face and gently rests your forehead against his own. “Then please, won’t you take me?”

With a quiet laugh you utter your response. “Of course.”

What little clothes remained between you and Laurance quickly come off in a mess of hurried hands and sweet nothings. Every word you whisper sends adrenaline pumping through Laurance’s body. He can only hope that his roaming hands might be doing the same to you.

His eyes watch your face intently as you slowly lower yourself onto the boy’s now hardened arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your head tilts back and how your sounds of pleasure freely fall from your lips. The feeling of being wrapped in you; it’s euphoric, but it’s not enough. Laurance wants more.

As you continue to shift against Laurance he begins to move in time with your movements, his hips jerking upward as he attempts to drive himself deeper into you.

He wants to feel your touch; to hear his name fall from your lips and to see your pleasured expression every time he shifts his hips in time with your own. It’s not enough to simply feel good at your hands. He wants you to feel good, too.

With whatever strength hasn’t been sapped away at the sight of you, Laurance sits up and holds you close against his chest. In an instant his lips are against yours, stealing kisses as if this is the only time he’ll ever get to kiss you again. You, on the other hand, feed into every single one of the brunette’s greedy impulses.

“Can I call you by your name? Please?” Laurance mutters against your lips. He knows he shouldn’t ask such a thing of you, especially since he’s nothing but a rogue, but when his mind is already swirling in thoughts of you and you alone he’s bound to make impossible requests.

Laurance’s chases after your lips in a desperate manner as you pull away. He hardly even registers that you’re contemplating his question as his lips latch onto your neck and leave behind barely visible marks all the way down. In your attempts to get him to look at you, you have to pry the boy from your body.

Has Laurance ever told you how pretty your eyes are? Or how beautiful you look when your hair is undone like this? Hell, does he even have enough of himself left to tell you how good you’re making him feel? Do you feel good, too?

“Laurance.”

The boy’s attention snaps right to you the moment you call his name. “What?”

“You may address me by my name.”

“R-really?”

Your lips curl into an amused smile as you admire the boy’s drunken state, using your hand to brush back loose strands of the boy’s hair. “Yes, really.”

And that’s it. You have him hooked.

With every thrust of his hips, your name all but falls from Laurance’s lips. It feels so foreign, yet so very right. Like it was always your name that he was meant to call. That it was only ever your name that he wished to speak. Laurance is not here with some royalty figure he’s bound to, he’s here with you.

Laurance can feel himself coming to his wit’s end, but it seems that you’re one step ahead of him. Your body convulses slightly against Laurance’s, the walls of your pussy taking him in oh so greedily. But that’s not to say that Laurance isn’t being greedy, either.

The brunette savours as much of your reaction as he possibly can. The smell of your hair, the sound of your voice, the feeling of your body pressed against his; everything. It’s all for him to have, so he’ll remember it as thoroughly as he can. But fuck, it’s hard to stay focused when you’re holding onto him this tightly.

As Laurance can feel himself coming undone beneath you, he attempts to hide his expression from you by tucking his face into the crook of your neck. You’ll have none of this though, and you pull back to hold Laurance’s face in your hands.

“Don’t hide away now, Laurance.” Despite coming out between shallow breaths, your voice is as firm as ever.

Laurance can’t help but want to shy away under the subtle amusement in your expression. “I can’t help it. You feel too damn good. I’m gonna- fuck.” Laurance’s words are cut short as a wave of euphoria washes over his entire body. That feeling is only heightened when you lean forward and steal a kiss of your own.

Your lips are firm yet gentle at the same time. You truly are something of a temptress, but right now that’s hardly a bad thing.

When Laurance can finally feel himself coming down from his high, he rests his forehead against your shoulder in bliss. For a moment, the world is quiet. The only thing that matters is the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the feeling of your gently rising and falling chest. It’s perfect. 

You’re perfect.

Laurance slowly opens his eyes and looks up at you, drinking in all that you have to offer. You’ve always been really pretty, but right now Laurance thinks that you are enchanting. And when you finally peek open your eyes to meet Laurance’s gaze, he all but knows that you’re his.

Even if it’s just for this moment in time, you’re his.