#do i capitalize queen i can never remember

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Over the Edge (Pre-war)

(A/N: WIP title. It's not really abuse, but wanna say that there's a very very brief moment of rough-handling of a kid. No hitting, only a brief shake to a kid the size of, let's say a 7-8 year old human. Also, we get to see Islanzadí for the first time in pre-war, with this taking place probably a month or two before The Promise and Arya's oath with Brom. She's struggling with the turmoil after the Fall, the loss of Evandar and not really having the time to mourn him due to the sudden rush of responsibility and new duties {that sounds like a theme for this bloodline huh} and she is barely keeping her head above water. Because of that, she tries to tell herself that it's okay to focus solely on her duties as queen, because, through trickle down and big picture, her doing well as queen keeps Arya safe from Galbatorix and the Forsworn. That's what she tells herself. If she believes it is up to you as the reader at this point.)

~~~~~~

MODERN INHERITANCE: OVER THE EDGE

Out of nowhere the door to the queen’s study slammed open with a horrendous bang. Däthedr, Fiolr and Islanzadí all jumped as one.

“What is the meaning of this int–” Islanzadí’s thunderous voice was immediately silenced by the equally stormy eyes that snapped to her. Despite his frail nature, Oromis’ presence filled the doorway, looming over them like a threatening anvil cloud. 

“Leave us.” The Rider’s voice held unmistakable steel. The two elf lords flicked their gazes to the queen, unsure of who was in control. Slighting one would be dangerous, though which was more threatening at the time was yet to be decided. “Leave!”

A great rumble shook the roots arrayed beneath their feet and a massive golden eye suddenly glinted outside the window overlooking the courtyard.

Däthedr and Fiolr were out of their seats and bowed just low enough to show apologetic respect before they fled, kicking up moss in their haste.

Silence but for the soft whooshing of Glaedr’s great lungs outside the walls filled the room. 

Islanzadí slowly settled back into her chair. “Can I help you, Oromis-elda?” The brittleness that accompanied her clenched teeth and the hard line of her shoulders was not masked in the slightest. Islanzadí was livid at the intrusion and far beyond angry at the subversion of her authority, in front of her advisor no less! 

“Do you have any,” Oromis paused to collect himself. His own rage was very close to boiling over. “Any inkling of just where your daughter is?” 

The queen blinked. Arya? When was the last time she had seen her? Surely not that long ago. Breakfast, probably, scampering out the door. Or did she see her in the Menoa tree while on a walk? No, that was yesterday, she had a meeting with the Council after that, so it had to be yesterday. 

A heavy stone of guilt dropped into Islanzadí’s stomach. Could she really not tell him when she last saw her own child? The days had been going by in a whirlwind, filled with meetings pushing for more resources for the border, more spellcasters to maintain the barriers, power struggles in Ceris–

Islanzadí had no earthly idea where her own daughter was.

“I…” 

Oromis reached behind him and marched into the room. “Spare me the attempt, Islanzadí.” 

A small yelp of indignation followed him, or rather, was dragged alongside him. Arya let out a half feral yowl at the Dragon Rider pulling her by one gangly arm, silverskin glowing a muted flush of pink anger at her cheeks at the unintentional roughness. 

The elfling’s hair was wild, though that was nothing new. Her braid was half undone, the tie at the base loosened. Knees scuffed, elbows bruised, knuckles scraped, pine needles stuck to her clothing with sap. Yes, that was her Arya, scowling up at her from where Oromis had planted the child in front of him with his hands on her shoulders. 

“Tell your mother.”

Arya’s scowl deepened. Stars. She looked so much like Evandar during combat when she did that. Her brows met with the same lightning pattern, jet streaks of midnight above endless emerald green. “Nothing happened.”

Another growl rattled the window hard enough to send it gliding inwards on hidden hinges. Glaedr snapped his massive jaws, a sharp crack loud enough to make the gathered elves flinch. Outside, a trio of pines juddered from the impact of his tail before he subdued the lashing.

‘Hatchling!’ His voice was thunderous in their minds. At the dragon’s mental touch Islanzadí felt the sensation of wind pushing against her body, a momentary inkling of confusion, then a fear of failure, fear of the outcome, and then…relief. And rage. ‘We have warned you!’

Against all odds, Arya snapped her own teeth, a defiant snarl rattling her thin chest. “I’m not scared of you, Glaedr!” 

The golden dragon audibly balked. That stung more than he cared to admit. Especially coming from one so small.

“What is this about?” Islanzadí snapped. That surge of fear felt through Glaedr’s memories twisted her stomach into knots. Besides the usual scrapes, though, Arya seemed unharmed. “I have work to do. You interrupted a meeting that was planned weeks in advance!”

Outside, Glaedr shifted. 

Arya bared her teeth. With a hollow mental wave of her hand to put it aside for later thought, Islanzadí noticed the girl’s canines had fallen out. When had that happened? Not too recently, it seemed. The tips of wickedly sharp ancestral teeth were already poking through, giving the child an almost comical appearance with both top canines barely coming in while the lower set were nearly level with her incisors. 

Oromis’ eyes flashed at Islanzadí’s words. His grip on Arya’s shoulders tightened. “We found your daughter after she leapt off the Crags, Islanzadí.”

Islanzadí’s heart dropped, the wind knocked from her lungs. “What?” 

‘We were flying and caught the hatchling after she jumped off the Crags of Tel’naeír.’ 

Arya…jumped from the cliffs? 

Islanzadí was around the desk in an instant and seized her only child by the arms. “What were you thinking?” There was only panic thudding in her chest, the image of a small body crumpled in the beds of pine needles flashing to her mind. “Have you gone mad?! Answer me!” 

“Islanzadí!” Oromis’ bark was sharp and swift. It was only when Arya stifled a squeak did Islanzadí realize she was shaking her. 

The queen released the elfling as if stung, hands hovering an inch away from the pink blotches blooming on silvered skin. “Arya…?” 

Arya lifted her gaze from where she had dropped it to the ground. 

Was…was that fire in her eyes?

Defiant but calm. Determined. The lanky child squared her shoulders as best she could under Oromis’ grip and met her mother’s conflicted storm of golden lightning and locked them eye to eye.

Arya’s voice was soft, deadpan. “I wanted to fly.” 

Fly. Said as if it were entirely normal for elf children to take to the skies after a quick breakfast. Islanzadí stared at her child, unsure if this was some sort of elaborate ruse to hide a darker motive, some childish cry for help, or if her daughter genuinely had planned to leap off a thousand foot cliff and sprout wings.

The queen closed her mouth, suddenly aware that her jaw was hanging open a good half inch in dumbfounded bewilderment. 

“...Fly?” 

Arya nodded. Never broke eye contact. Never changed her expression. “I wanted to test the spells I made. The Crags are the highest and clearest launch point.”

A dull headache began to throb behind Islanzadí’s forehead.

Why? Why did it always have to be her child. Couldn’t she find something normal to do? Couldn’t she see that Islanzadí was struggling to keep the entire elven nation together just over a handful of years after the Fall? Arya was known to be remarkably observant but how could she not understand, after her father–

The fear for her safety was quickly turning to white hot anger at the center of Islanzadí’s chest. Of all the foolish things….

The queen inhaled and held her breath for a long moment before letting it out in a tight huff. “Arya. You are far too old to be pretending you can fly, and far too young to be meddling with experimental magic!” Arya opened her mouth but Islanzadí cut her off. “No. Enough of this. You know how important the meetings today are.” Islanzadí rose from her kneeling position and knocked the knees of her dress free of dirt. “You and I will discuss this at length in the evening. Now go to your quarters.”

Again, Arya tried to speak. She even took half a step forward, something flashing and flaring bright in her emerald eyes. “I–”

“Enough!” Unmistakable. The voice she used in court. Commanding. The voice of a queen. “To your quarters!” Islanzadí threw an arm in the direction of the door, pointing sharply. “Now!” 

The elfling’s mouth snapped shut, jaw clenched.

Islanzadí couldn’t tell if it was horror, pain, or anger that surged to her throat when her daughter straightened into a smart attention, knocked her knuckles to a disheveled shoulder as she had seen countless times before, and bowed. 

“As you wish, my queen.”

Hollow, detached. Quietly and barely masking the seething underneath it all.

Arya was at the door when Oromis called out. “Arya.” She turned to him, never once looking back to her mother. “Lessons early tomorrow. Bring your books and your training blade.”

“Yes, ebrithil.” The murmur held more respect than anything she had said to Islanzadí. “I will be there.”

Once the door was closed, Islanzadí took a moment to rub her temples and just breathe. She could still feel Oromis staring at her, anger not yet gone, thunder still in his eyes. 

“What?” She didn’t mean to snap. She bit her tongue. The Dragon Rider merely shook his head. “Speak, Oromis! I do not have time for games! I have two more meetings, not counting the one you interrupted, and I have a stack of reports on attempted border incursions by Wyrdfell waiting for me.”

“You don’t have time?” The words stung hard against Islanzadí’s ears with flabbergasted accusations. Oromis must indeed be outraged if he was acting this emotional with her. “You do not have time for your own daughter?” 

The queen whirled back to her desk and stalked around it. “My daughter should know better than to jump off cliffs and think she will fly!” She shoved a stack of papers to the side roughly and sat. “She knows how important these weeks are. Arya is capable, she should be able to take care of herself.”

“That is not the matter at all, and you know this!” Oromis followed her, bracing slim hands on the back of one of the chairs. “Islanzadí, Arya is hurting! She is still trying to come to terms with Evandar’s death–”

“Get out.” 

“Islanzadí–”

“Get out! You will not lecture me on how to raise my child by invoking the name of my dead mate!”

For the first, and quite nearly the only time, Islanzadí witnessed Oromis Thrándurin in a true, uncontained rage. 

The unmistakable rumble of dragonfire swelled in the crippled Rider’s chest. Islanzadí shrank back instinctively as the elf seemed to grow before her, white teeth flashing, fingers cracking through the chair’s wood as if pierced by ivory claws. 

Oromis’ voice was harsh with crackling flame, roaring at her above the din. “Then raise your child, Islanzadí Dröttning!” His thin chest heaved, as if the effort of holding back true fire taxed him to the limit. “Arya needs her mother. Not a queen. Go to her. She is a child! She only wants to be held by her mother and told that it will all be alright while the world is falling apart!” 

The words had Islanzadí shooting to her feet yet again. “Yes! The world is falling apart! And right now, the only thing keeping us safe are magic barriers, far too few uninjured spellcasters, a handful of cities lending all the strength they can to fortify them, and spells that are millenia old and in desperate need of repair!” The queen threw an arm out, gesturing to the expanse of Du Weldenvarden mapped out on the wall of pine. “Everyone is hurting! And I am the queen of an entire race that is hurting! I do not have time to lie to my daughter that everything will be fine when we cannot know for sure! My time is spent endlessly fortifying our defenses, trying to make sure we last to the end of the month in case Galbatorix decides to send his entire collection of Wyrdfell to sweep the forest with dragonfire! Time not spent with her is time spent keeping her alive!

“Arya will just have to learn how to live with some sacrifices. I will not hold her hand when it means the possibility of losing this entire nation.” 

Oromis once again looked every year his age. 

“Are you finished?” He asked softly.

The queen lowered herself into her chair, hands shaking. “Get out. And take Glaedr with you.”

Oromis again shook his head, as if in sad disappointment. “You will lose her if you continue like this, Islanzadí.”

Islanzadí did not look up from the piles of reports on her desk. 

When the door finally clicked closed behind him, the queen of the elves buried her face in her hands, and cried. 

Oromis was not halfway down the hall when the soft sound of sniffling caught his attention. A small droplet splashed on the back of his hand, warm like a spring rain in the dead of winter. 

He looked up. “Oh, little hatchling. Come down from there.” He gave a small, sad smile. “Please?”

Another quiet sniffle, the rustle of woven pine boughs, and the lanky elfling dropped from one of the skylights in the hall’s ceiling. Arya wiped her nose on the back of her arm, scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms and stifled a hiccup before squaring her shoulders as she had earlier. 

“Arya. Were you listening?”

She nodded. Blinked. 

“Oh, little hatchling. I’m so sorry you heard that.” Her eyes shone with tears when she met his gaze, throat convulsing as she swallowed another stuttered gasp of misery. Oromis opened his arms, chest aching. “None of that, now, Arya. It is okay to cry.”

Arya sniffed again. “F…fighters don’t cry.” 

“My dear girl, everyone cries.” But she was already in his arms, face pressed to his ribs and eyes squeezed shut. 

He let her sob out her frustration and pain there in the hall, tucked into his embrace and in a little sheltered bubble of silence where no one would be able to hear her tears. She pulled away when she was done, rubbing at her face, trying to hide the evidence again as the two of them retrieved her training blade and books before beginning the long walk to the Crags. She would sleep under the stars there, an unspoken agreement forged by the many times Glaedr had awoken to the elfling tucked against his paw, or curled under the roots of a tree at the edge of their cliffside dwelling. 

“I’m…” Oromis flicked his gaze to the child at his side. Arya heaved a few deep breaths, forcing herself to calm fully. “I’m going to fix it.” 

“Fix what, little hatchling?” 

“The world.” Arya nodded in affirmation to herself. The Rider at her side couldn’t help the small grin that tilted his lips. Leave it to the youth to declare such things with so much confidence. “I’m going to fix the world. Then Mum won’t have to work so hard, and you and Glaedr won’t be so sad all the time.”

The matter of fact mentioning of his and Glaedr’s pain hit like a stone loosed from a sling. He pushed it back, did his best to keep the soft smile on his face. “Do you have a plan for this?” 

“Yeah.” 

Oromis nearly missed a step when he glanced down. Arya’s face had transformed from the light frown to a near frighteningly wild smile, teeth bared in fierce determination. Her eyes were alight with brilliant fire, brows lowered in challenge. 

“I’m gonna fight.”

~~~~~~~~

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.

A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!

IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you. 

The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him. 

Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.

You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore. 

Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn. 

You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather. 

You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics. 

Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies. 

And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners. 

Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war. 

Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him. 

You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite. 

While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you. 

That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying. 

Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in. 

You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet. 

There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace. 

You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.

“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.” 

“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless. 

“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.” 

You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not. 

“I simply did my duty, my lord.”

Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you. 

“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it. 

“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all. 

“He is a child.” You say, slowly.  “No person would leave a child in need.” 

“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner. 

“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal. 

“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.  

“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are. 

“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over. 

He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?

“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good. 

“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.”  Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him. 

“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion. 

“We do not believe that here.” 

“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue. 

“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.” 

“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt. 

YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.

“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing. 

It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are. 

“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you. 

“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.” 

One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter. 

“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.” 

“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries. 

You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler. 

As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.

“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart. 

Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you. 

“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”

You cannot help but smile a little. 

“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.” 

Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so. 

The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms. 

“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf. 

You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things. 

It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise. 

“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.

“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you. 

“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.” 

It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you. 

“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world. 

“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.” 

“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words. 

All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him. 

What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe. 

And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!

“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was bad. 

You were falling in love with Cregan. 

“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace. 

Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words. 

“Neither do I.”

SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare. 

Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands. 

That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.

“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!” 

“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.” 

Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.

“What is fascinating?” 

“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.

His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment. 

“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman. 

“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.” 

“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.” 

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.” 

“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.” 

“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara. 

“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines. 

“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.” 

“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.” 

“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all. 

“Of course.”

Sara positively beams. 

“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.” 

“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised. 

“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.” 

“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking. 

“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.” 

Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help. 

Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you. 

He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you. 

He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs. 

It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it. 

[reallyromealone]

NOZEL SILVA X MALE READER

👾 warnings ⭐

Male reader, mpreg, omegaverse, Omega male reader, fluff, nesting, reader calls out Nozel being shitty to the clover kingdoms subjects

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Nozel never knew what to do with his mate, (name) was an enigma to say the least.

(Name) was the prince of the heart kingdom, the younger brother of Queen lolopetchka and to strengthen the bonds of the kingdoms (name) and Nozel wed.

(Name) didn't take after the water magic his mother possessed but instead the plant magic like his father, using it to create crops to send to struggling villages around the kingdom.

"You're not going" Nozel said strictly to his mate, (name) crossing his arms in defiance "and why not?"

"It's dangerous for an Omega to go alone"

"What if I didn't go alone?"

"And who did you convince to do this with?"

"...the back bulls" (name) mumbled and Nozel stared him down "absolutely not" he said coldly, watching his mate deflate "then you come with me!"

"No"

"Why not?!"

"I have better things to attend to"

"More important than helping your people?" In the heart kingdom, the Royals did anything they could for their people, the callousness of the clover kingdom infuriated (name).

The village was struggling with crop fertility and winter was only five months away... (Name) didn't like the idea of them struggling like that.

Noelle couldn't believe she was going against her brothers words and helping the other, Asta excited to go out "this is great! You must be strong to be able to do this!" Asta boasted and (name) bit his lip, he felt bad not following his alphas command but... People needed him.

And his sister always taught him that one's subjects lives came before ones own.

Noelle was in awe as she watched her brother in law use his magic, the ground glowing beneath them before plant life began sprouting, fruit trees and various plants around the farm land.

Nozel was fuming as he searched high and low for his Omega, practically putting out a wanted poster for the fucker.

"Nozel!" Noelle said panicked as Asta carried an unconscious (name), the Omega looking worse for wear "what happened?!" Nozel seethed as he took his mate "he was helping a village with their crops and just suddenly collapsed!"

Nozel didn't say anything as he took his Omega to the silver eagles base and to their room, setting the Omega in the nest.

(Name) slept for a few hours before waking, Nozel doing paperwork as he spoke "were you aware you are with pup?" His voice even but it was clear he was upset... But this was the wrong move as (name) gripped his stomach and stressed pharamones leaked everywhere, Nozel knew his Omega well and walked to him, pulling him close to scent him.

"The pups safe, you over used your magic on a trip I clearly remember barring you from going to"

"If I didn't... They wouldn't have made it through the winter... They would have died..." (Name) said teary eyed "I don't understand your reluctance to help those who are supposed to be your subjects... " This genuinely upset (name), the Omega who spent his life helping those of the heart kingdom with anything and everything because he was royalty, his job was to support and lift the kingdom.

"..." Nozel was silent as he held his Omega close "you can't go out to random villages" he said and felt (name) curl his fingers around his cape angrily "but... We can send supply crates to village's in need"

(Name) perked up considerably as he shifted to look at his mate wide eyed "you seem to be hellbent on this, just no more adventures"

"Can I help around the capital?"

"Be thankful I'm not locking you away in the castle"

(Name) didn't try pushing his luck as he chirped and nosed at Nozels jaw while the Alpha moved to touch the bump "I expect minimal magic while you are carrying our pup"

"Our baby.." (name) said happily as he held onto the Alpha who felt his heart warm at the others words "yes yes, our baby"

[nightghoul381]

Dark If ~ Prologue

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

London, the capital of the United Kingdom, boasted glittering prosperity during the reign of her majesty Queen Victoria.

I’m an ordinary citizen who works as a postman in the city.

I don’t have enough money to buy tickets to the performances I want to see.

(Okay, everything has been delivered for today.)

(If I could work a little more, I would be able to buy tickets to see that performance…)

Kate: “I’m back.”

Director: “Kate! Just in time for…no, but the roads are dangerous at night…”

Kate: “What’s wrong?”

Colleague: “Well, they have a vacancy for a night delivery person, so we’re short-staffed.”

(That’s it!)

Kate: “Please let me go!”

I take on an additional deliver and walk through the townhouse district illuminated by gas lamps.

(All I have to do is deliver a letter addressed to the bookstore manager.)

(Ah, “Kingsley Books”… here it is!)

Kate: “Excuse me, I’m from the post office, the manager…”

(There’s no one here, I guess I’ll just have to come back tomorrow,--Oh, what’s this...)

I picked up the book that had fallen casually at my feet.

As if drawn to something, I opened the untitled book.

Kate: “…!”

The wind whipped up, and I was enveloped in blinding light—

Beautiful man with long hair: “Welcome to the distorted fairy world…”

Beautiful man with long hair: “Our first visitor! Yaaaayyy!”

Beyond my open field of vision, a beautiful long-haired person was waiting for me.

Kate: “H-here… I… I was at the bookstore just now, and…”

I had no idea where I was or who the person in front of me was.

All I know now is that this is not a bookstore, and I still have work to do.

Kate: “Um, I’m in the middle of a delivery. So, I’d like to go back to Kingsly Books.”

Beautiful man with long hair: “I’m afraid that will be difficult.”

Kate: “Huh?”

Beautiful man with long hair: “Actually, I don’t even know how to send you home.”

The man, who introduced himself as Victor, tried to explain things to me and soothe my confused mind.

The place I am in now is between the world of fairy tales and the world in which I live.

Kate: “…Fairy world.”

Victor: “You were led here by an untitled book. Don’t you remember?”

Kate: “Yes. So, does that mean I got lost inside a book?”

Victor: “That’s right. You’re a quick and intelligent young lady.”

(I never thought that the adaptability I had honed as a postman would be put to use in a place like this.)

Kate: “But you… Victor, sir. I’m sure you just talked about a ‘twisted fairy world’.”

Victor: “Alice in Wonderland, Snow White, and Thorn Princess**.”

Victor: “Most fairy tales in the world have a fixed plot, and generally end with a happy ending.”

Victor: “However, in the world of fairy tales, the plot of the story has gone awry, chaos has reached its peak, and the ending is far from happy.”

Kate: “…How can that be?”

Victor: “That’s because…each fairy tale has something missing.”

Kate: “…Something missing. What is that?”

Victor: “Even I don’t know that.”

Victor: “I believe you were called here to look for it.”

(…er, in other words)

Kate: “If I find what’s missing, the distortions in the fairy world will be corrected, and the story will have a happy ending.”

Kate: “Then, I’ll be relieved of my role.”

Victor: “Perhaps then you can return to the world you come from.”

(If that’s the only way, I have no choice but to do it anyway.)

(Find what is missing in the distorted fairy world and correct the distortion. And with my own hands, lead it to a happy ending.)

Then I will return to the world I came from and continue my delivery.

Victor: “Ah, I think it’s almost time to wake up.”

Victor: “Miss Kate. With your hands, create the happiest ending.”

Victor: “—Come now, let’s go to the distorted fairy world.”

Jude Jazza | Ellis Twilight

[glorianamultistan]

The General and The Prince

Park Chanyeol x Male Reader

Contains:- mentions of wars, blood, and kidnapping.

<Part 1> <Next>

A little over a week ago, y/n's life was all over the place, and it still is; the difference is that now he is married to the vilest person he could have probably thought of while imagining a married life.

But life changes happen often so abruptly that one is found sitting in an emptied ballroom, with a burnt-up piece of dress shriveled up in hands clutching it tightly while the castle palace all around collapses.

Y/n was well aware of the fierceness of the General who was the primal cause of every defeat his kingdom had suffered; the end result of the war was pre-destined the day enemy troops crossed the inner walls of their most secured military base, but for it to come to this was never imagined.

A surrender was in process to safeguard the capital; y/n's father was hellbent on not letting the enemies cross the gates of the capital and destroy it like they have left ashes and misery in the path they have followed.

Yet General Chanyeol was not satisfied with it; he had to take the main palace down, and that was his aim, swearing which left his country.

Y/n sat there, ashen and mute, staring at the embers still there all around him; his clothes were still intact, he had a few cuts and burns throughout his hands and that was it; he sat as if in a trance, without any emotion on his face, so still that to an observer it would be a photograph symbolising doom.

Chanyeol saw y/n sitting there, he knew who it was and he knew why it was important to not touch him still; something in him was calling out, a melody, rising, rippling like an unknown sea coming up from the depth of the earth; it was the very last step which brought him so close to y/n that he was able to clearly see the tear stains on his cheeks that made enough metallic noise to break the young prince's trance and look up; there it was, the face that he denied to dance with at the last winter ball, still looking unfazed, 'let's get out of here your royal highness' said Chanyeol, with a proud grin, that is all he remembers before blacking out.

'Is this really the only thing you are going to ask for, General?' The King was shocked, and the Queen and the princesses too; everyone was ready for General Park to ask for rank promotion; the King even decreed a Dukedom, only for winning over the major ports and cities of the enemies, but to ask to marry the prince of the enemy was unprecedented.

'Yes your majesty, this is all. Now, if you may permit, I will take my leave.' Chanyeol left the murmuring throneroom and made his way to the room housing y/n, it was the fourth day since he arrived with the prince there, and he was informed that the younger regained consciousness last night.

'Leave.' As soon as he entered the room, he ordered all the attendees. He went forward and sat on the chair next to the bed facing the wall opposite to it. The prince was leaning on the headboard with his head down.

'So, your royal highness, how do you like our facilities here?' Chanyeol cocked while turning to look at y/n. No response. After a few minutes, the older continued, 'We will give the inner territories conquered by us back, and you will be marrying me for that to happen.' Y/n knew this was coming; all the threats the General made for years to make him dance with him whether he likes it or not, to marry him and only him, they were all real which y/n took in jest as he was too proud to accept such an invitation.

'You know, keeping quiet will not lead you anywhere, so say what you have to now, I am here to listen, I grant you a wish too, as is the ritual here, ask for anything but return.' Chanyeol was suddenly all perched up, looking at y/n. 'Respect' y/n whispered; his throat was still hurting due to all the smoke he inhaled.

'What?' 'I ask for respect; if you can grant that, I will say yes to the marriage.' There was a stretched silence, the fountain of the connected gardens was all one could hear, then a deep inhale, 'Okay, if that is the only request you have, you will have titles here too, I have been granted a Dukedom and you will be living comfortably, nobody will disrespect you, even at the court. I will assure you that.' 'I want respect from you too; you have taken, vehemently snatched everything, still you are returning the territories, so I will say yes, but I want respect from you too.' 'Will I get the respect back my prince?' Chanyeol smirked; he knew how irritatingly ambitious he was, 'Yes.'

The only win here seemed to be that of Chanyeol; it was the completion of his grand plan, the final nail in the coffin; this is what he has been dreaming about since he set his eyes on y/n a few years ago during a festival, he was just a mere soldier back then, he bloodied his hands to get to the level of a reputed General to be asked in a ballroom full of aristocrats, then too he was denied the chance to be with y/n as the prince knew how ruthless the General was and y/n hated wars and murders.

After a few days of convalescence, all of which were accompanied by Chanyeol, who updated him about the upcoming marriage and all the preparations, y/n was free to meet his family.

A troop was sent with him to the castle on the farthest side of his kingdom where his family was currently staying after the attack on the capital. His father was annoyed and his older brother was not helping with the mood too; they were all dejected that it had to come to this but none of his relatives even suggested going against the marriage.

'We will gain back our territories; think about your brother's future as a limited king; you need to persuade your fiance to let go of all the territories and not just the inner ones.' 'I am doing no such negotiations, I am already becoming the reason for you to get back what you lost shamefully, do not try to depend on any of my upcoming relations, have some self-respect father.'

'Self-respect!?' Y/n brother screamed making him bounce in shock a little, 'It was your deranged idea of self-respect that caused this war; if only you could have given him a chance he would have never attacked us like this. And look where you stand; you are forced to do what you never really wanted and did whatever you could to stop it.'

'Well, brother, you do remember who it was who first denied me to dance with him, don't you? 'A self-obsessed lowly General' is what you said when he asked you for a dance with me the very first time we went there for the Royal Ball.'

'But later he became a threat so I urged you to give him a chance too, then you were the one who was hell-bent on denying him!'

'Enough! Stop arguing about what has already transpired and think about the future. Y/n, son, you must not waver and make demands; you are a prince, he is a General, and the rank difference must come into play.'

'Update your information father, because you seem to be having none; he is a Duke now, and even if I am a prince, of a mostly fallen kingdom I must remind you, I have no intentions of making any more deals for and on behalf of this marriage. I will leave now, I am not waiting for dawn to have another fruitless discussion, farewell your majesty, brother.'

With a solemn bow, y/n left as he came, with the metallic clinks and rustles of the troop.

Reaching the other kingdom he was informed that rather than going to the palace, he would be going to the new manor of Chanyeol, which was now decked and ready for his arrival. He was greeted by the whole household and finally met his mother-in-law, who opposite to what he had expected, was too sorrowful to handle without any prior preparation.

'I am ashamed to be hosting you like this, your royal highness; please find a way to ignore all the mess; the house is still not up to date with all that is necessary to be having you here.' The lady wouldn't even raise her head, 'Please sit now Lady Park, I have no reservations as such regarding the place, I am pleased that I am not in a prison after a war, and please do not make a fuss about the titles, you are going to be my mother-in-law so we can work things out.' 'Oh no sir, I do not accept any of this, I am more of an apologist for my son's actions right now in front of you; he paid no heed to my requests and did what all his swelled-up ego allowed him to do. I don't know how will I ever get over the fact that my son forced you into such a situation.'

'Lady Park, I just had this conversation with my father and brother too; let us please move on from what has happened and try to resolve the situation peacefully and think about how the path ahead can be one that is less painful to go by.' 'You are as kind as the rumours suggested sir; please let me know about any trouble you have here, and I will look into it right away; let me take you to your room for now; you must rest before tomorrow's ceremony.' 'I am not a guest here Lady Park, I am supposed to live here, so please do not be at your tip-toes around my comfort; let us go; it is quite late now.'

Y/n's room was, for now, pretty well arranged; he could run away pretty easily from here, the manor was secured but if he asked Lady Park to help him, he was sure that she would do all in her power to let him go without a scratch; but it was useless to do so, he had nowhere to run and if somehow he managed to cross over to the other kingdoms there was no guarantee of his survival, he had no money of his own or any possession, so he sits down on the bed and flops, to stare at the roof and think, think about tomorrow when at a private ceremony he will accept now Duke of Sandria Park Chanyeol, then he will be living with that man under this roof, as his husband, for the rest of his life, was respect the right choice?

The rituals were over; they were married, no gala, no ball, a peaceful summation of more than five months of unrivaled violence. Y/n was sitting in his room, with a book open as a distraction while looking out of the giant window; the land surrounding the manor was beautiful, and the hills were lush green and mild dew which the mist caused made it all look fantastical.

'Come in.' Y/n answered the knocks and did not look back at the door, thinking it was some maid or servant who came to take his belongings, or gifts as they were, away, 'You looked beautiful today, Mr Park.'

Y/n stilled for a moment, then closed the book and turned back. 'Why did you knock at my door? This is your house.' 'I believe privacy should be respected too; you have all the right to say no.' 'I believe I lost all the rights to deny anything the moment I said yes to you today.' 'Don't make it more miserable than it already is dear, I have no intentions of hurting you, I just want to talk to you before going to my room.'

'Oh? I will get a room of my own?' 'Until you are ready to share a bed with me, yes, you will have a room to yourself.' 'Then I guess there will be no more direct descents for the Dukedom.' 'Time will tell. Well, if you have any requirements tell to my mother who is pretty much willing to serve you food if you want, (he sits on the bed) I will be going on a tour soon so we have a week to spend together and unfortunately my sister will be coming to meet you too.'

'You know, I feel like this is all a dream; as absurd as it may sound, it has yet to settle down on me, because I never thought I would be taken away from one prison to another like this. I knew my father wanted to marry me off as a peace offering to any kingdom willing, but it happened so that I was actually picked up, like a garbage bag.'

'Don't demean yourself; you are the crown jewel I snatched, and this is not a prison; you can go anywhere you want, do anything you want; you do not need my permission for anything, just remember to come back otherwise there will be useless wars again.' 'Don't worry, I will not run away, I will stay, and live, but do not expect me to reciprocate your feelings, whatever they may be, and we will be fine; a lot depends on this marriage, I do not want my people back home to suffer because of my foolishness.' 'Ah well, I will go now; also, try to accept people here too; they see you as a prince and no less; good night.'

The next few days were calm, weirdly bland, and nothing happened, which made y/n realise how calm life can actually be; back at home before the war all he did was read and attend events or be locked in the palace; there was nothing to do, he was not allowed to go anywhere too since the threat of people kidnapping him was always looming, which he never understood why, kidnap the crown prince why the other one.

On the third day Lady Kim, Chanyeol's sister, arrived, and she was like her mother in a grave mood, fidgeting while meeting y/n; he did not understand yet again, why such courtesies for a snatched prince, 'Your royal highness, I am sorry I was not able to attend the wedding, I live quite far away from Sandrian region and it was such a shocking and sudden news.' 'It is alright Lady Kim, please do sit down, you too Lady Park, I have said it to you multiple times don't wait for me to sit, just sit; let us cut back on some formalities insides these walls at least, we are a family now, forced indeed, but I have not a drop of vengeance in me, if you ask me honestly, I used to live like this back at home too, so, let us just be comfortable.'

'How are you adapting to the changes, sir? It gets colder than your kingdom here, I hope my brother has made arrangements for you to be at ease.' 'I am doing well, I have always adored winters more than the humid summers we had, so I can say I am better off here in some sense.' 'Oh it is good to know; we can all go and skate over the lake once it freezes and you can attend the winter festivals; we have a lot of them throughout the empire, I am sure the public is eager to meet you too.'

Lady Park put down her cup and said 'They are eager indeed, I have more than a dozen invitations for the balls and dinners already, and all asking specifically for his roya... I mean, y/n to join them.' It was as hard as biting a bullet for her to let go of the formalities in which she had soaked herself into the bones.

So it went on, and a week went by, full of still awkward lunches and dinners and a few guests to be entertained; throughout the week he did not see the head of the house anywhere, technically he was the head too but he liked Lady Park being in command more as he was not used to being the one in authority of a household.

One Saturday, after almost two weeks of disappearance, Chanyeol knocked on y/n's room around the ungodly hour of 1 AM. Y/n was a bit scared by the knock; he was writing a letter of reply to the crown princess as she had invited him to the palace for a private visit and did not expect anyone to be up this late. 'Can I come in?' The rasp was the giveaway, 'Please wait a minute, I am not presentable.' Y/n was not; he was in his robes; he quickly put on a loose shirt and trousers the said 'You can come in now.'

'Why are you up so late your royal highness.' The courtesy was more sarcastic than respectful, 'I have not been able to sleep, I have weirdly a lot of correspondents to reply to so I thought why not do that.' As he finished speaking and arranging paper on his desk facing the grand windows, he turned to look at Chanyeol and was shocked to see blood all over his clothes; for a moment he was stunned; y/n was not a fighter; he hated the very sight of blood when his brother would come from his military tours and right now, in front of him was a man almost soaked in blood, in his room talking to him, and he felt scared for the man, so much so that without thinking about who he is talking to, he had to verbalise it.

'What the hell happened to you!? So much blood!? Why are you here!? Go to a damn hospital for god's sake!' He almost screamed the last part, and was shaking so much that Chanyeol had to walk from the door side to hold him. 'Calm down, it is not mine.' 'DO NOT TOUCH ME LIKE THIS! I HATE BLOOD!' Y/n screamed in whispers while shutting his eyes. 'Okay! Okay. Will you try to calm down please, wait just turn around.'

Chanyeol took off his pads and shirt and gloves and threw them out of the room, then shut the door to come back in and saw y/n standing still, 'you can turn around now.' The glory of the human body was never so well available for y/n to look at like this; his brother was muscular and well built but nothing he can imagine, even the Commander in chief of his kingdom's army was not comparable to Chanyeol, yet he had to control himself once again. 'What happened? You are still wounded you know, I see the cuts on your arm, not that they should do anything to such a great General, but get treated I guess.' Y/N had already turned around again flustered.

'Nice to know you care, and sorry for coming in like this. I had no idea you would have such a reaction upon seeing blood. I will keep that in mind. I came to check up on you as I was attacked on my way here by some people who were allegedly from your father's kingdom, so I thought why not check up if you are safe or not.'

'Oh. Don't worry, my father does not want me back; they would never come for me; rather, they might kill me as it was pretty clear that I caused the war that destroyed them.' 'Something's wrong with your family, I have never seen anyone react like this to all the events that have happened.' 'Well, why dwell on it. I am here; you survived another attack, and all is fine.' 'Nice to know my survival is fine for you.' 'Don't get ahead of yourself; my survival depends on your survival, do not forget that you brought a prince from your enemy kingdom after a war. You must survive, I plan on living a long life.' Y/n turned and looked straight into Chanyeol's eyes.

There was an understanding between them that some lines are put up and they shall not be crossed, and respect was mutual. 'I will be staying for some time; we have to go to the palace soon, a private invitation. I hope it won't be a problem for you to attend, I have yet to accept it.' 'I was writing to the crown princess; we can go, I have no problem, just keep your mother here; she will probably fall sick due to all the stress she will take about a royal visit.' 'You like her?' 'I never had a mother; she is a good company, but frail for her age; you never thought about her while fighting wars?' Now y/n was sitting on his bed, and Chanyeol was in front of him on the chair where a y/n sat writing letters.

'I thought of her; that is why I never told her any trouble or wound or failure I ever had, and I had a retinue of servants to look after her.' They were again staring at each other; where will all of this arrangement lead them? Nobody had any idea; it was a day-to-day event still.

'Well, I will take my leave; you should sleep, I will ask them to serve the breakfast an hour later than usual.' 'Don't do that; your sister and mother should eat on time, I will just get up early.' Chanyeol was surprised at how well y/n was settling in; it was as if for the first time he had somewhere to hold on to. 'Okay then, good night my prince.' Chanyeol smirked closing the door, and left y/n flustered again.

P.S.:- If you liked it, you can support me by buying me a coffee; link's on my page.

[11queensupreme11]

I promised myself to wait a little more before reading but I couldn't focus when I just knew this was big.

So yeah, I end reading porn while my lecture... no regrets.

Me, reading chapter 31: Percy, your daddy issues are SHOWING my girl.

Can't blame you tho, your dad's hot. He's not a DILF, he's THE DILF, He deserves every capital letter.

Love that crazy blonde, have a special place in my heart.

Grover just got himself a VIP ticket to HELL, my boy, you just got yourself a target in your back and, all satyrs in both worlds are going to suffer for that decision even with Percy's help.

Poseidon promised to do nothing, but the rest of the family didn't

Love it, cause at least they know SOMETHING is happening now, kinda of. Well, now they KNOW she's alive and that's something...

Could be worse, wondering if Grover noticed her dress and what he's going to see about it. She has become a wife/prisoner? she did run away? Percy is using really expensive jewellery like mere rocks and can say something (a god? a god from a different pantheon?)

Anyways, she's now one bad fall from diving into the incest sin and I'm pushing her, after the first wet bed... well, we know they aren't known for their patience.

I'm rotting for Sun Wukong, just imagine what that tail can do 😏😏😏 (for once, I'm not being horny, but imagine him using that tail to push her close and hugging her. I'm a bitch for cuddles, make me blush like no porn has done before).

(Odin, the other way, is a DILF I totally respect ❤️👄❤️)

Chapter 32

Well, I did see this scenery come... but Zeus accusing Hera of being unfaithful? wishing it to be real, maybe with Ganymede, just to add more burn.

Totally deserves it, but you know, isn't happening.

(Sometimes, for a little bit, I feel sad for her. Her husband is The Bitch, has an almost impossible mission and no one is helping her... well, then I remember how she treated her husband's lover, literally kids, how she's just searching for Percy cause she needs her and then I'm fine, totally deserved)

(Now I'm rooting for the RoR gods, not because they're better, just cause at least they're honest about their feelings about humanity and, don't treat their children like guns with discount in Walmart)

Poseidon taking advantages from all his chances to discover new kinks with Percy (*screams, giggles, hides her face*). You're spoiling us, brat taming is my favorite kind of dom/sub smut, so this was gooooooooood for me

Poseidon just making her cry and then making her kiss him? Percy, you're living a wattpad history and is niceeeeee

Percy/Poseidon and Percy/Beelzebub fans, we're winning tonight!!!!

Beelzebub: A life with Percy or no life at all Me: Whatever you say king, I love your crazyness, don't change

He really is ready to save her, no matter if it means she's leaving him... a maturing king, love it.

Okay, we know he'd never send her to another's man arms (Sorry, I always forget his name), but he's TRYING and that's all I ask from him. He's closer than the others...

(Feeling like that TikTok "what if he's the devil? at least the devil has a job")

(What if he's throwing away her chances to go back home, at least he takes her to Midgard dates 🙄🙄🙄🙄)

Yes, I looking throught the BIGGEST red glass, not seeing red flags, just hearts around Beelcy.

Me:

Poseidon for the horny side and Beelcebub for the romantic side ❤️❤️

You know what would be amazing? Nico having to see all of this.

Imagine, the drama.

We know you love the drama queen, don't try to fool me, I know you survive from our tears and horny desires.

(Queen... just wondering... is this a harem history (Percy ends with all the yanderes) or just one of them? cause for now in my mind they have a horary where they share Percy like a divorce child)

Amazing like always ❤️❤️❤️❤️

YOU READ INCEST PORN AND CANNIBALISM DURING YOUR CLASS LECTURE??? 💀💀💀 i could never, i don't have the guts even when my phone has the privacy screen protector thing 😂

also, "all satyrs in both worlds are going to suffer for that decision even with Percy's help." yeah the satyrs in ror verse are still in deep shit even tho percy tried to help them, cuz even though it was only the GREEK council who saw it, this whole thing made BIG NEWS

can you imagine shiva, parvati, kali, and durga's reaction to hearing that percy was "violated" by an unknown satyr IN HER DREAMS?

or loki's reaction? or literally any god that knows about her and likes her???? or just gods in general (especially the protector of children gods) 💀💀💀 like, satyrs already have a terrible reputation, but to target a "one year old" daughter of poseidon IN HER DREAMS (which is unheard of for satyrs to be capable of, which makes it even more terrifying)???? they're FUCKED 💀💀💀

pan and dionysus are gonna have to put them into hiding or something lmao

there's more posy coming in in the futre, and as for beelzebub, he's just digging a deeper and deeper grave for himself lmao. he is singlehandedly ruining his own ship 😭😭😭 but at least he still has beelcy shippers on his side 💀

[shinycozytwistedglam]

Onyx Storm RECAP ch1-ch4

Who is Aura Beinhaven? Aura is the senior wingleader among the 4 wingleaders of the wings that remained in Navarre after Violet & Xaden defected to Aretia with dozens of cadets. She's the wingleader second wing.

Who is Ewan Faber? Ewan is the wingleader of what remained of Fourth Wing in Navarre. So...he's Dain Aetos, but for the remnants of Fourth Wing that didn't go to Aretia.

Who is Caroline Ashton? She's Jack fucking Barlowe's girlfriend, or she was at one point. I think she's in first wing. One of the wings that hated Violet & her crew.

Who is Eran Norris? We have never heard of this dude before LOL. Apparently he built Basgiath. Only Violet would know that.

Who is Commandant Panchek? Panchek commands the Riders Quadrant. That means Lilith used to be his boss, because she commanded all of Basgiath War College. You've been hearing his name since Fourth Wing. He's the guy who occasionally appears at Formation to give annoying speeches after the death roll is called. Violet was usually talking about sex or flirting with Xaden whenever Panchek was talking.

What is the Senarium? The Senarium is made up of the leaders of the 6 provinces of Navarre. They seem to serve as some kind of ruling counsel. They are not elected; they all have titles of Duke or Duchess, and the seats appear to be hereditary and/or political appointments.

Who is Tecarus? You remember this guy. He's Cat's uncle with the fancy house, the rich guy with the luminary who wanted to see Violet wield lightning and "add her to his collection."

Provinces of Navarre. Refer to map for details. Luceras (far northwest, Sawyer is from here), Morraine (for northeast, Rhi is originally from here), Elsum, Deaconshire (includes Basgiath & the Vale, Calldyr (capital city), and Tyrrendor (largest, most southern).

Provinces of Poromiel. Poromiel is where Cat & the flyers are from. The provinces are Krovla, Braevick, and Cygnisen. See wiki for more details

Welcome back, kids. We're gonna jump right into it so hang on for the (dragon) ride.

WTF is happening in ch1-ch2? 

Cadets & riders are continuing to patrol around Basgiath for stray venin. There's anger & tension between the riders who left for Aretia and the riders who remained in Navarre. No classes are happening, most of the Aretia professors are gone.

Violet & Andarna are plotting to find the rest of Andarna's kind.

Mira is away from Basgiath doing something we (the readers) are not supposed to understand yet but it's suspicious. Xaden's friends want Violet to stop sleeping with Xaden (literally & figuratively) for her own safety.

Iron Squad is visiting Sawyer in sick bay. Suddenly a bunch of people in sick bay are drained because venin are inside the walls. The venin are trying to get JfB out of his cell. Violet & her friends confront venin at the door of Jack's cell. Xaden comes to the rescue before any of them can get killed.

Xaden walks Violet to her meeting with the Senarium. They are talking both out loud & across their mental bond.

WTF is happening in ch3-ch4? 

Violet goes to meet with the Senarium about the mission to find other dragons like Andarna. The only person who matters is Lewellen, who is representing Tyrrendor on the Senarium. Andanna has a list of demands (!!) for the mission, which Violet presents. There's arguing. The Senarium wants Capt Grady of RSC to lead the mission.

This mission is a precondition for Poromiel negotiating an alliance with Navarre. (Remember: Navarre was literally AT WAR with Poromiel until 2 weeks prior LOL it's so stupid to think of now.) The queen thinks the 7th breed knows how to defeat venin. The negotiations with Poromiel are fucked because the fliers can't wield at Basgiath due to the wards & that means they'll get killed by riders.

It's really a 3-way negotiation between Navarre, Poromiel, and Tyrrendor. Also: Violet is negotiating on the side directly with Tecarus? Because of course she is.

Xaden & Violet try to have morning sexy times, but Xaden can barely control his urge to draw magic when he's close to Violet & she's all powered up.

Mira is back and Violet is very happy. Mira has been in Aretia fucking around with runes, but she seems to have succeeded at what she was trying to do. Also Mira was evaluating Aretia's wards and they have maybe 6 months left. Mira says she's found a way to keep the fliers safely at Basgiath.

[mybeautifuldelirium]

Can you write a chapter 2 to And you left me! Maybe Y/N goes to Storm’s End with Luke and Aemond kills him, kidnaps Y/N to capital as prisonar and then Aegon marries to her. But now Y/N is unwilling to marry him because he stole her mother’s throne and his brother murdered her brother in front of her. She hates her husband and wants to return to her mother. (If you are uncomfortable about writing noncon it can be just angst for both of them. It doesn’t have to be smut or yandere thing. I just want to see real Aegon’s character more than HoTD. Because in the show they made him more innocent than he actually is.)

And You Left Me! Part 2 |Aegon Targaryen II x reader

Part 1

A/N: I’m not sure how well I did w this chapter cuz originally I wasn’t really planning on doing a part 2, so I’m not sure if I did it any justice, but I still hope u enjoy 💚

Warnings: Targ!Incest, Dub Con, 18+, Angst!, NSFW allusions but nothing explicit

“And yet, with his final breath, he whispered to me that you should take his place on the throne.” The queen insisted, tightening her grip.

“Only on one condition shall I obey” Aegon narrowed his gaze “I am to take Y/N Velaryon as my second wife like Aegon the Conqueror did. She is to be my queen”

-

“No” Rhaenyra tore the thin parchment and threw it at Otto’s feet “My answer is NO! I am not to sacrifice my only daughter, she is a woman betrothed and my treacherous brother is well aware of this predicament”

Y/N’s eyes burned from trying to hold back her tears, Aegon lied, of course he would do that, of course he would betray and usurp her mother. She should’ve never returned to King’s Landing, she should’ve never let her guard down in front of him, never allowed herself to get lost in those teary violet eyes again.

-

“You met up with him, didn’t you?!” Rhaenyra pulled at her daughter’s hand “What did I tell you all those years ago, don’t you remember why I had to take you away from there?!”

“M-mother…I…I’m sorry…I didn’t-”

“You’re such a naïve girl Y/N” she shook her head in disappointment “You think he really loves you, don’t you? He took away my birthright, your birthright and now he wants to take you, to corrupt you! I will not allow that!”

-

The blood curdling screams that the young princess let out as her sweet little brother was falling down to his demise, echoed through the storm. Y/N leapt from her beautiful silver dragon, hoping to soon meet the same fate, but strong arms were suddenly wrapped around her pulling her back.

“NO” she wept, trying to free herself from the firm grasp of her captor “Let me go!! You KILLED him!! Let me go, let me die!”

“Forgive me, dear niece, it is your king who shall get to choose your fate” those were the last words she heard, before the shock and grief slipped her mind into unconsciousness.

-

The princess winced as the cold wet rag was firmly pressed onto her forehead, bloodshot eyes fluttering open. It was hard to adjust to the bright light, streaming through the windows, had she too died? A piercing pain shot through her chest, memories flooding back into her head.

“Lucerys, NO! He killed him! He killed him” she jolted up as the screams were tearing through her chest “No, he’s gone! He’s gone, it should’ve been me!”

“Princess, princess, please, you’re still weak” the poor maid begged, desperately trying to restrain her as the doors bursted open.

“Out, everyone”

That voice, Y/N knew that voice, of course she did, the voice of that drunkard, silver haired imbecile that she had been cursed to love.

“Where is he?! Where’s my brother?!” She tried to get up groaning from the pain “He killed him, he killed him!!”

“Don’t get up, you’re still weak” Aegon grimaced, plopping himself beside on the bed.

“My mother was right! I was a stupid naïve girl” her voice echoed through the room as she scooted further away from his body “Usurper! Traitor! Take me home!!”

Aegon bit his lip, trying to ignore the hatred in her voice

“This is your home” he looked down then back into her eyes mumbling with a stern voice “With me”

“With you? WITH YOU?!” Y/N let out a pained laugh “Let. Me. Go.”

“NO” Aegon stood up, his pale finger pointed at her chest

“You will stay here! You will marry me, like you promised!”

“You’ve lost your mind” the princess shook her head in disbelief “After everything your family’s done, after everything you’ve done, NEVER…I’d rather burn”

“You WILL” flames burned through the young Targaryen’s eyes as he tightly gripped her arm, knuckles going white.

“I am your king!! You will obey me! You shall be my queen”

-

The following days melted away into each other and though the health of the young princess had improved, her heart had been shattered into million pieces.

The queen mother Alicent would often visit the feeble girl, trying to reason with her.

“You love my son Y/N, you always have, despite your mother, despite his despicable behavior, I know that”

“I did…” the princess’ words trailed off “now no more, that love is forever gone!”

“You know that’s not true,” Alicent scoffed. “You think I wanted to wed your grand sire? We’re women, we don’t get to choose our fate”

-

Aegon’s life wasn’t any different than usual, the unfortunate king, had spent the preceding days drinking himself into oblivion with the occasional visits to the pleasure houses yet his mind kept coming back to Y/N, ever since that night when he had drunkenly stumbled into her chambers, her face had been haunting his dreams. He wanted her to be his and she was going to be his no matter what.

-

Poor, sweet Helaena had come at dawn, thin pale fingers draping a cloak of emerald green with a delicate embroidery of gold around Y/N’s trembling frame.

“Hel…please, please help me, I want to go home…” her eyes glistened from the newly formed tears “Aegon is your husband, the father of your children…d-doesn’t this bother you?”

“An oath of the dragon is an oath of the flesh” the young queen’s voice quivered, her delicate face devoid of any emotion.

-

This wasn’t how her wedding day was meant to go, Y/N Velaryon the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, she was supposed to be happily wed to Cregan Stark, before the eyes of the gods, blessed by the hand of her mother. Yet there she stood, as the septon spoke their vows, her hands intertwined with those of the one her heart longed for but her mind despised.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days” Aegon’s words were slurred as a meager stench of wine lingered from his breath yet his eyes shone with twinkles of hope and desire.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, till the end of my days”

The king’s calloused fingers felt rough against the skin of her cheek as he brought her face closer “My queen…you belong to me, only me” he snorted, crashing his chapped lips onto her plush ones as the hall erupted with cheers.

-

The feast was a brief affair, Aegon kept draining goblet after goblet while his left hand was clenched around Y/N’s wrist, violet eyes occasionally peering into her face.

“Aegon, slow down” she narrowed her gaze “You’ve drunk enough”

“Enough? Enough?!” the young Targaryen laughed “Oh my sweet niece, or should I say wife? Shan’t a man celebrate his union?!” his grip tightened, tugging her towards him as he raised his goblet “May the bedding ceremony begin!”

A veil of horror enveloped Y/N’s face as strong hands were mercilessly ripping through her lavish attire while her husband’s sneer echoed through the hall.

“Okay, that’s enough” Alicent scoffed, pulling the wine out of her son’s hand “Aegon, take your bride to your chambers, now!”

-

“Drink” the king sneered, handing her a goblet of wine as they were at last alone.

“Is this funny to you?!” Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched, a glimpse of disgust flashing through her eyes “Am I just a toy to you?!”

“You’re my wife, my sweet niece” Aegon’s gaze was now locked onto her face as if making sure that she won’t disappear at any moment “You’ll do your duty…you’ll give me an heir”

All blood drained from Y/N’s face, leaving her pale as a ghost “Y-you…you already have heirs”

“No, no, I don’t, not from you” his voice cracking as he took a step forward, his breath warm on her supple skin

“I want a child from you, from my queen”

“I would never lay with you” her hands hit at his chest “I would never touch you”

“You. Are. Mine.” the king tugged at her wrists, pulling her towards him so closely, that she could feel his wine odorous breath “You shall do as I say!”

“Aegon…no, don’t” her hands grabbed at his face in search of mercy in his eyes “I won’t do this”

“You are my wife now!!” Aegon grunted, pushing her onto the bed “You think I wanted this?!” he looked with disgust at his crown, tossing it at the wall “You think I wanted to be king?! I did this for you, I did all of this because I wanted you”

-

Y/N’s breath hitched as she felt restrained underneath his body, his wet mouth, hungrily kissing her neck while his hands were tugging at her skirts.

“You promised, and you left me! You. Left. Me.” His grip tightened “You won’t ever leave me again! Promise me! Never!”

As he eventually eased into her, he’d occasionally look up to take a quick glance at her pained face and for a brief moment there it was as if she could catch a glimpse of that Aegon she had once fallen in love with.

She had of course once, years ago, secretly dreamt of giving her maidenhead to Aegon, to her Aegon, but now this man, this man on top of her, that wasn’t him, it was as if a cruel beast had taken over his body and soul yet at one point her arms were instinctively wrapped around him, pulling his frame flush against her chest as she was quietly sobbing into his neck, sobs of pain and sweet pleasure.

-

The room grew quiet in the midst of the harsh night as they laid underneath the cold silk sheets, something that they would often do as children, alas now it was all different. No sweet chatter, no warm embraces, facing away from each other, the only audible sounds being some shallow breaths and whimpers.

Until Aegon’s voice, barely a whisper, tore through the silence;

“Do you hate me?”

[savagewildnerness]

3 today. I did this one solely because it is snowy here… then you can see ZERO snow as I didn’t do an angle of camera with snow in. Also, there’s piano as I think snow is pianoy, but wolves are violin-y & then I broke down laughing in the middle as I’m trying to hold @toriangeli’s Lestat when he wants to fall over & switch between piano & violin & I don’t have enough hands or surfaces & what a fail! And at this stage I am switching between instruments dependent on holding Lestat up - zero to do with snow or wolves or anything at all!

“In the winter of my twenty-first year, I went out alone on horseback to kill a pack of wolves.

___

So early on a very cold morning in January, I armed myself to kill the wolves one by one. I had three flintlock guns and an excellent flintlock rifle, and these I took with me as well as my muskets and my father's sword. But just before leaving the castle, I added to this little arsenal one or two ancient weapons that I'd never bothered with before.

Our castle was full of old armor. My ancestors had fought in countless noble wars since the times of the Crusades with St. Louis. And hung on the walls above all this clattering junk were a good many lances, battleaxes, flails, and maces.

It was a very large mace—that is, a spiked club—that I took with me that morning, and also a good-sized flail: an iron ball attached to a chain that could be swung with immense force at an attacker.

Now remember this was the eighteenth century, the time when white-wigged Parisians tiptoed around in high-heeled satin slippers, pinched snuff, and dabbed at their noses with embroidered handkerchiefs.

And here I was going out to hunt in rawhide boots and buckskin coat, with these ancient weapons tied to the saddle, and my two biggest mastiffs beside me in their spiked collars.

That was my life. And it might as well have been lived in the Middle Ages. And I knew enough of the fancy-dressed travelers on the post road to feel it rather keenly. The nobles in the capital called us country lords "harecatchers." Of course we could sneer at them and call them lackeys to the king and queen. Our castle had stood for a thousand years, and not even the great Cardinal Richelieu in his war on our kind had managed to pull down our ancient towers. But as I said before, I didn't pay much attention to history.

I was unhappy and ferocious as I rode up the mountain.”

Proof of snow!

[shadowgeist-stars]

There's something I wish we talked more about...

Everyone likes wondering about how the big "Lamiroir is actually Thalassa Gramarye and Trucy and Apollo are her kids" reveal would affect our oblivious pair of half-siblings. But I noticed that a grand total of NO ONE thinks about how certain other characters would also take the news. Mainly in Apollo's Khura'in family. (There will be SoJ spoilers below)

Let's start with an easy one. Datz.

He already knows Apollo (as "AJ"), and it looks like he meets Trucy when saving Apollo and Dhurke from the undersea cavern. Obviously a generally fun-loving fellow who I bet would happily call Trucy an honorary Defiant Dragon if he caught wind of her being Apollo's sister. Doubly so when remembering she managed to stow away in Edgeworth's luggage to reach Khura'in. (Rule-breakers need to stick together!) He'd probably also assign her some kind of nickname like TW or something, and consider himself her new uncle. He also seems like the only one crazy enough to willfully be Trucy's magic assistant/guinea pig, which would spare Apollo and Athena.

Then comes Rayfa, our dear crown princess.

While not as emotionally invested as her brother (and we'll get to him), it would be a surprise to learn that "Horn Head" has a little sister. And it just so happens to be the girl with the strange blue hat who was watching from the gallery during the trial that got Ga'ran deposed. While a bit upset that she never really got to talk to her back then, Rayfa would be fairly alright with seeing Trucy as a sister of some kind... and discuss with her the ways of pestering both of their brothers all in good fun.

Of course, Trucy would be over the moon to the mere idea of calling Rayfa her little sister, especially when she's a literal princess on the road to being queen. Their personalities could bounce off of each other surprisingly well, and maybe Trucy can help Rayfa swallow enough of her pride to actually call either of the boys "brother." And thanks to Phoenix's connections to Maya and Pearl, Trucy knows other spirit mediums who might be able to help Rayfa in her training.

And now we get to someone with a bit more... complicated stake in the matter, and honestly the meat and potatoes for this whole post: Nahyuta.

Being completely honest here, I think our dear Last Rites Prosecutor would take this news as a complete slap in the face. "Let it go and move on" mantra be damned, he'd basically be told "Hey, remember your first case against Apollo? With that magician girl you tried to get convicted for murder who turned out to have been framed? Yeah, she's actually your brother's sister, which also kinda makes her your sister by proxy. You unknowingly tried to get your own sister condemned for murder and quite possibly put on death row." (Since, y'know, capital punishment's still a thing in Ace Attorney L.A.)

Even if we almost never see our Not Guilty defendants hold a grudge against the prosecutors, Nahyuta's entire deal in Spirit of Justice was doing everything he possibly could to protect his baby sister and his mom, being unnecessarily harsh with the defense and the accused in the process. So finding out that he tried to condemn someone who could be considered part of his family on a false charge wouldn't be without consequence. (Turnabout Revolution only proved that because of his parents' direct involvement.)

Undoubtedly, he'd see fit to apologize to Trucy personally upon learning about her being Apollo's little sister, and would do so at his earliest convenience. But we can all be certain that she'd gladly accept him as another big brother regardless of any perceived "past transgressions." There would be hugs involved, I'm sure, and Nahyuta would be able to... possibly bring out the protective and caring big brother he was supposed to be from the very beginning.

Side note: Y'know this here lightning thing you see with Amara when she gets mad? And also Dhurke's dragon glare when he goes Mad Dad on Paul Atishon?

I get the feeling Nahyuta would inherit either or both of their little tricks to some extent when his big brother instinct REALLY kicks into high gear.

[poetthewriter]

🔮Carnelian Trinkets🗝️

Vex!Scar x Reader

thank you to my 🪶feather anon for requesting this I'm sorry I accidentally deleted you're request but from what a remember you said you wanted a vex!Scar x reader where scar likes to give reader trinkets and little gifts because of his vex side! please enjoy and feel free to leave tips (p.s im not so proud of this story but I hope at least you guy like it<3)

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐬&𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬🌱🧄🌿

Scar had decided to go on a little adventure as he liked to call it but in Y/ns case it meant being left alone for a few days, it not like Y/n couldn't be by their self or that they constantly needed to be with Scar but tonight Y/n will be all alone with no date for the party.

A small gathering happens every so often in Hermitcraft where all the hermits get together and have a nice evening with drinks and treats for all, even though there's so many members as well as a few guests coming from their empires it feels right to give everyone a little thank you gift. pulling out tiny little boxes Y/n walks out of their house and into the mines, after hours and hours of mining and polishing a scatter of crystals lay on a table, from ruby to agate there is a set of handpicked personalized crystals for every guest.

Gold or silver, crown, necklace, bracelet, or ring, smooth or pointy. hundreds of decisions lay in front of Y/n but at the end of the day around 40 sets of jewelry are set in boxes to be given to the person there for.

Amber ear cuffs for Impulse, aquamarine and pink coral tiara for Queen Lizzie of the Ocean empire, golden peridot anklets for the one and only fae girl Gem, and a jasper pendent like amulet for the prince of the lost empire Joey.

The only thing that catches Y/ns eye is a carnelian ring with a engraving inside saying " I Love You, Dear " a little bit of disappointment hits them as they remember Scars absents but all they do is close the box and throw it in the basket.

________

The stars shine brightly around Scar as he walks down the paths of the Ender capital, people pass scar left and right from Endermen hybrids to Nether hybrids hes surrounded, some people stare at him and his vex features uncomfortably as others pass and don't bat an eye.

Markets and stalls are set up everywhere going from one to another nothings right, some potions and magical seeds end up in scars inventory but there's something hes looking for that he just cant figure out what it is until a small sparky shine catches his eye.

A flow of magic wisps through the air pulling scar in all he wanted was something personal to give Y/n so all he can do is hope this light can lead him to the perfect thing, slowly he steps over to the shine and a small chest of colorful crystals, rare buttons, and mini empty bottles sits Infront of him his eyes light up and his wings flutter at the big and small trinkets to give his partner.

walking back to the portal to the over world, end flowers, and little pieces of shiny metal litter the ground, more and more bobbles clutter into scar bag and cut his hand and he picks up sharp pieces. reaching into a different pocket for a bandage Scar communicator tumbles out of his bag a bright yellow message takes up the whole screen leaving his face shocked.

"GATHERING AT NINE HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON!"

---

Y/n stands there looking in the mirror at their fancy attire, their shoes click as they walk across their house grabbing the big basket full of little gift boxes, a load knock echos through their house slowly but surely Y/n walks the open the door but when they get their someone is already their waiting for them.

"SCAR!"

Y/n runs up the him, he pulls them into a soft hug slowly lowering to the ground.

"oh my god.. I am so sorry, I totally forgot about the party tonight I never meant to do that Y/n, I missed you so so much"

a small kiss opens Scars eyes Y/n just sits there with a goofy smile on their face as they tug on his arm standing up, Y/n yanks Scar to the table they rummage through the big weaved basket and pull out one box slowly opening it they hide it in there hands and slowly slide it on to scars ring finger, he looks at it for a few moments before Y/n asks him a question.

"Do you like it!" they say swinging side to side in excitement, Scar looks up at them and lifts them up with a huge smile on his face, giddy as heck he pulls Y/n in to a seat.

"I LOVE IT!! LOOK LOOK I HAVE STUFF FOR YOU AS WELL, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT" Scar pulls out the big box of little knobs and treats, if he was a dog his big golden retriever tail would be shaking faster then lightning and all Y/n could do is match his energy the trinkets doesn’t matter anymore as much as Y/n loved their partners little gift they were just exited to be with him.

Walking to the party scar runs off like a little child to grab sparkly nicknacks and give them back to Y/n and they just swing their basket excitedly like little red riding hood.

The vex boy rests at his lovers side as they enter the party with everyone. The night was long but the energy never died gifts were given, hugs were shared and the night ended of with cuddles in their warm comfy bed.

[rodolfoparras]

i wrote this awhile ago, it's from my blog for a fantasy roleplay. it is quite literally my pièce de résistance. - poem anon

-

“This is grave news indeed,” Queen Althea said, looking over the message for the second and third time, her brows furrowing in concern. The parchment felt heavier with each reading, the weight of its contents pressing on her heart. “Are you sure this is from Elders Iguthar and Rodalf themselves?” she asked, raising her eyes to her personal knight, a frown etched deeply on her lips.

“Yes, I’m sure of it, my queen. Not only did one of Iguthar’s maids deliver this letter to me on his own horse, but it also matches his handwriting perfectly.” Maria, the knight, watched intently as Althea scrutinized the letter, her expression darkening as she confirmed Maria’s words. The handwriting was unmistakably Iguthar’s, each stroke and flourish a somber testament to the dire situation.

“There’s also this.” Maria held out Rodalf’s cloak, the rich purple hue and worn fabric stirring memories in the queen’s mind. Althea’s smile was tinged with sadness as she reached forward, her fingers brushing against the familiar velvet. She took the cloak into her hands, the weight of it both comforting and sorrowful.

“Never would Rodalf ever part with his beloved cloak. It was like...a part of him—another limb, attached to his body.” Althea brought the cloak to her nose, inhaling the faint, familiar scent- of lilac and dusty parchment. Her eyes fluttered shut, lost momentarily in the bittersweet aroma of old memories and lost comrades.

Maria moved quietly, intending to leave the queen to her grief, her armor clinking softly as she stepped towards the door of Althea’s study. “Maria...stay, please. I...I don’t know if I can be on my own right now.” Althea’s voice was barely a whisper, her gaze fixed on Rodalf’s cloak as tears began to spill from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks like a river.

“Of course, my queen,” Maria responded, stepping back towards the chairs in front of the desk but making no move to sit down. The formality between them felt out of place amidst such raw emotion.

“How many times have I told you to call me Althea while we’re alone? Hearing my title in such a place makes it all the more stuffy.” Althea’s attempt at levity fell flat, but Maria responded with a gentle hum of acknowledgment.

“At least once more. But...I’ll do my best to remember from now on.”

Althea nodded, her eyes drifting back to the note in her hand. She sighed deeply, a sound heavy with the weight of responsibility. “Please, sit down. I’ll be in here awhile, it seems. I could enjoy the company, if you’ve nothing else to do.” She gestured towards the chair, her eyes pleading for companionship.

Maria sighed softly, hesitating for a moment before sitting down. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her gaze steady on Althea. “If Iguthar and Rodalf have truly passed on, then we’ve no time. Do you know this, Maria?” Althea stood up, crossing the room to a bookcase. She opened a drawer and retrieved a scroll, which she handed to Maria.

“These are not for my eyes to read, my- er.. Althea.” Maria furrowed her brows, a blush spreading onto her cheeks, silently thanking the deities that Althea barely noticed her slip-up.

“Oh, please—you are the queen’s personal guard, and I am giving you permission. I don’t know how the order could get any higher.” Althea smiled faintly, going over to the window and looking out, onto the view of the capital city.

Maria sighed, pursing her lips as she rolled the scroll in her hands. “You’re sure you want me to read this?”

The queen once more, a soft laugh spilling from her lips as she wiped the remaining tears from her face. “Yes, I am sure. I want you to read it, please.” She gestured again to the scroll before stepping away from the window and sitting in the chair next to Maria.

Maria took a moment, her fingers tracing the intricate gold and marble engravings on the scroll case. “I do not think I’ve seen anything as simple as a scroll decorated with such opulence...” She unscrewed the cap, tipping the case to let the finely rolled parchment spill out. Placing the case and cap aside on the end table, she unrolled the parchment, her eyes scanning the calligraphed letters.

“This...” She paused, her brows furrowing deeper as she read the scroll again. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Maria looked over to Althea, her eyes wide with worry.

“I’m afraid it does. The revered order known as the Resurgents was never meant to topple. They were mighty, having lived longer than anyone knew. People were used to having them around, and now, I fear it was our greatest mistake to have taken them for granted.” The elven queen looked down at her lap, a grimace crossing her ethereal features.

“So—how do we move on from this? So many things have gone very wrong since Iguthar and Rodalf fell. I’m not sure you understand the gravity of the situation, Althea.”

Althea shook her head, another small smile playing on her lips despite the apparent news. “Oh, but I do. Maria, we have little time. But for now, I think it’s best for us to discuss further with the council. I have a plan, but it’s limited to just that. Like I said, there is little time, and even less time to attempt meager chances.” The queen stood up, moving towards the study’s entrance.

“Make sure to put the scroll back. I’m afraid no one else can see it but us two. We can limit how much the council knows for right now.”

Maria raised a brow. “My queen, please pardon my blunt words, but are you sure that’s wise? The council needs to know what is happening, why things are going wrong. Isn’t it better for them to get the full picture before they give us their decision?”

Althea sighed and nodded, already looking back at her with a tilt of her head. “Very well. Bring it with you, but keep it out of sight. If they see that you are carrying a royal edict, they may jump to conclusions.” She then turned to head out of the study.

i dunno if you like fantasy, but it happens to be my favorite genre to write about <3

Sugar bee!!!! You have such a beautiful writing style!!! Want to dig my teeth into it and shake all the juices the way you describe scenes is so rich, I can see the characters in front of me even though I have absolutely no idea what they looo like, I love everything about your art love!!

[freddiemercurylegendabovelegends]

Thanks #Leoferbeno #OfficialInternationalQueenFanClub #clarin

Leloir Park, Buenos Aires 1981 - Freddie and Ricardo Petracca

Dinner of the band at Ricardo Petracca's house after the show.

Petracca : "I remember Freddie, he was a great, great guy"

Not everyone can take a picture with a glittering artist worldwide. Ricardo Petracca (67) did it some time ago, and today he can boast of having an image no less than with Freddie Mercury, when he was 29 years old. And as if this were not enough, it is not just any, because it takes the Queen vocalist on his shoulders.

It is known that the legendary British rock band took their music to the last corner of the planet. In 1981, for example, it was the first great band to include Latin America in its tours. Many Argentines treasure in their hearts the passage of "The Queen" by the Club Vélez Sarsfield, in Capital; by Rosario, Córdoba and Mar del Plata.

Ricardo Petracca, a neighbor of Pilar for 25 years and nephew of the then president of Vélez, was one of the few people who could enjoy the stay of Queen well up close. "I did not want a normal photo, so it got on my shoulders and the photographer of the band captured the moment," he laughs.

Account that Mercury had the custom to sing the subject "We Will Rock You" raised "to caballito" of a custodian disguised of a personage of science fiction. This is how the idea came about and the moment was reflected in a photograph that is currently framed in the house of Ricardo's younger son.

As good hosts, his family invited the British group to a barbecue in his villa in Parque Leloir, in Ituzaingó. But Petracca only wanted to have a picture with the singer.

"To be honest, I was never a faithful follower of 'Queen'. I did not know them as much, I preferred to listen more to the Rolling Stones and even Latin music, "he reveals against what anyone could imagine. And he says: "One day they offered to buy me the photo, but I did not want to. It's something I keep for myself, and it transpired from one day to the next. "

The photograph shows that original moment, but the reality is that the Pilaren was with the members of the band during the 20 days of his stay in the country. That 27 of February of 1981 had to go to look for them to the Airport of Ezeiza, where hundreds of fans waited for their arrival. "There were many people willing to do anything to get close to their idols. With custody we had to invent a kind of fence to protect Freddie and make him enter the hotel, "he recalls.

"The shows in Vélez I lived on the side of the stage. During the recital, Freddie was transformed and was carried away by the adrenaline ", recognizes. The 40 thousand people who crowded the stadium vibrated to the rhythm of rock and remember that it was so powerful "the blow of the sound of the speakers that ran to the people of their place".

"I remember him as a guy, we spent hours talking about life," he admits modestly. In the course of those days, they cultivated a friendship that kept her in time with the sending of letters. "At that time my family had the largest glass company in Argentina. In the barbecue we shared, he saw one of our vitraux and commissioned one for us by letter for his house in London, "he says. Although with a hand in his heart he confesses that he doubts that the piece has reached its destination.

The photo, his anecdotes with the emblematic band and his personal bond with Mercury, make Petracca the envy of the followers of Queen. "I lived very nice moments. If he were alive, I'd love to meet him again. He was a very special character, "he says with some nostalgia

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

Okay so this is prob a baldur's gate 3 spoiler so if you haven't # out that tag, then uh? Yes.

This is also obviously a rant.

So I'm on my 4th playthrough, and my take on the guardian/ emperor changed. Very. Fast. And not in a very nice way.

So the first time I was in love with my guardian, I was in a romance with Astarion, but holy shit I would give the world to my guardian, so yes u can imagine my fucking heartbreak of the moment I saw him, like I had to stop gaming cuz I felt so betrayed.

And then I obviously were just hurt and whatever but nice about it to him.

Then I decided I would actually romance him as my second character, mage dude, and well....

Things happened, and I got the same story he had like "Nobody knew who I was, I had so many friends" bleh bleh, and I remember feeling pretty like 🤨 when bone daddy- I mean Withers, said that mindflayers don't have souls like? Excuse you what about the emperor??

And I ofc slept with him, which u can do, and I obviously don't kink shame if you're into it, but i was not

I was hiding my face, peeking through my fingers, and then just regret everything ever.

And like? Romance was fine, and I didnt turn into a mindflayer at the end, cuz I was also dating Karlach and well... can't be a mindflayer then.

And the whole thing that HE was the founder of Baldur's gate? That HE IS him??? Honestly?

At that point I felt even more upset, and disgusted. Not only cuz of what he did, but just... him. And ugh. (I didn't do that quest the first time, cuz I didn't know)

Then come me as durge...

First of all... I've never loved a character more, maybe Gage from fallout 4, than my durge, a queen like wow💅🏻

And with her I was just done with the emperor, like... I expected him to be the same, ya know?

But no.

No.

He was NOT!!!! the same.

And this game have sent me on so many rollercoasters I wanna lie down and never get up

I feel so betrayed? So... stupid I feel so fucking stupid, cuz Withers SAYS mindflayers don't have souls?? And I????? Believe this tentacle monster????? Like wtf

And then only to learn that his "friends" were actually NOT???? But basically possessed to "hang out" with him?

And yeah he claims that he ate "only criminals" but how do we know??? If he lied about that? He probably ate other people too, he probably didn't even spiderman/batman himself around like he said/showed us he did.

As I played more and more durge I just felt disgusted and a fool, like?? I do talk, rant, to friends and yes even family, when I'm either yay obsessed about the game/character or to upset rant, and everybody knows about the beginning and end and on actually how much this hurt and I know its so stupid

But o m g I am so??? UGH

I hate him, like I fr fr fr hate him.

I'm playing as a Githyanki now, and I'll find out how that works out, but bruh.

Istg if I find out more shocking things, I will just nap for 3 days...

And I'm trying to stay as much gith as I can, but also how mellow my dude is, but yeah...

I fucking hope I don't have more to add to this, cuz that's gonna be in all capital letters istg

[spectrechosts]

April Fools - Chapters 7-9

The prompt list followed a year-long arc, and these chapters bring us into what I refer to as Sadgirl Summer. Tensions rise in the castle as the Fool and Knight fight over the Queen's heart.

Full Series

DAY 7: SUMMER SKY

It's a beautiful day.

The Queen sits on a bench in her gardens, shaded by an ornate parasol. Listens to the sounds of birdsong, watches the butterflies flit through the air.

"Won't you sit with me, my knight?" She asks, and the Knight hesitates.

"A bodyguard does not sit, Highness." She says, and the Queen looks up at her with a soft smile.

"Just for a moment, afore we head inside?"

The Knight sits, gingerly. "Only a moment."

The two admire the scenery, bathed in the summer sun. And as they do, the Queen inches her hand to the side until her pinky finger just barely brushes the Knight's. A tiny, nigh imperceptible gesture of love.

She doesn't know how long she's loved her knight.

Always, perhaps.

Theirs is an unbreakable bond, an ancient tradition of the kingdom. A royal is born, and somewhere in the kingdom another is born at the same moment, and that is their knight; their family moved to the capital and the child trained from the day they can stand.

The Knight was her only companion for so much of her life, meek and frail child she was. She's not meant to love her protector, but to know someone so deeply, be bound together so intimately-

Well, crushes aren't unheard of, in the history of the practice. Frowned upon, certainly. Definitely expected to be grown out of. Tutted at, quite severely, should they be made known.

Should anyone remain to tut, that is.

But now there is only her on the throne, and the Knight by her side, and the inescapable crushing feeling that they are both somehow betraying eachother and themselves.

The Fool was meant to alleviate this, once upon a time. She'd met her before, on one of the childish flights to live amongst the people that young royals so often take. Been approached by her in the tavern, found her roguishly charming and witty. Had her first kiss, though she doubts now the Fool remembers.

The plan was simple enough. Continue to be charmed by the Fool, let her crush fizzle out and be overtaken by another, present her as her suitor minus the clown's attire, get a new jester, and none would be any the wiser.

Would that the Fool remembered her affections.

Would that she had not room in her heart for both of them.

A joyous thing, truly, to be so filled with love. It just brought with it such difficulties.

She yawns, sleepy from the summer heat.

"Shall we-" She starts, and the Knight is already up and offering her hand to help her from her seat.

Inside, the castle's halls are kept comfortably cool by runes of ice etched into the stone, and the Fool is splayed out on the ground, her cheek pressed against one for relief.

"Ye gods, have you no dignity?" The Knight asks, aghast.

"Not a shred, fair knight." Sighs the Fool, blissful.

"Would it kill you to- My lady, my lady I beg you not-" The Knight stammers, as the Fool finds herself face to face with the Queen.

"Afternoon, Your Majesty." She says, with a halfhearted smile.

"Good afternoon, my wonderful fool."

"Your Majesty please get off the floor, this position does not befit one of your station."

"It's fiiine, there's no one around. It's refreshing!" The Queen says, while the Fool squints her eyes and thinks.

"There's a joke to be made; of positions you think befit her, or perhaps you fitting something in her station?" She says, half shrugging. "I can't be assed in this heat."

"You see, you see where 'there's no one around' has gotten us?" The Knight asks her giggling charge.

~~~

DAY 8: RAINBOWS AND RAIMENTS

Rainbows are a good omen, they say.

'They', whoever they are, have clearly never spied the Fool coming down the hall with a devious glint in her eye.

"Bravest knight in the land, do I see you flinch at my approach?" The Fool asks, tilting her head and bending forward, her hands clasped behind her back. "Surely thou must face greater terrors than I, in your duties."

"Go away, buffoon." The knight hisses at the most terrible being that walks these halls. "The Queen isn't here to laugh at your antics, and I won't stand for them."

"Prithee, tell then where she is! I find myself feeling comical and I'd never dare to irritate Her Majesty's loyal hound." Says the Fool, in mock supplication.

"She bathes, a habit you would do well to pick up." The Knight says, and then upon seeing the gleam in the Fool's eye: "Tread carefully."

"Mercy me!" The Fool gasps, standing straight and pinching at the belled hem of her raiment. "I suppose I'm overdressed."

"Careful." The Knight growls.

There are limits, she thinks, even for her. Jesters may enjoy the freedom to say what they will, as long as the Queen laughs.

The Queen is otherwise occupied, and the Knight is not laughing.

"What?" The Fool asks. "Would you prefer to join her, then?"

"I'll not stand for it, I said."

"I just worry she might feel lonesome, without her constant companion by her side." She says, false concern betrayed by bared teeth. "And she does so enjoy my company."

The Knight is unsure if the Fool even knows the severity of the wounds she picks at. Yes, the Queen does enjoy her company. She enjoys the company of them both, and says- maybe even believes- that she can have them both.

And she can, in a sense. The Knight will never leave her side, come what may. She will remain her knight while the Fool is cleaned up and passed off as some distant noble; will make silent, secret gestures of intimacy while the Fool says as she pleases; Will be taunted for it all the while, and watch her lady laugh.

There is a line, that the Fool dances near in her mockery. To make bawdy jokes of their relationship is an annoyance, but now that the Fool knows of their relationship, every bawdy joke about herself and the Queen feels more and more like a slight. Like flaunting at her something that she cannot have, knowingly or not.

The door behind her opens, and the Queen emerges, hair still faintly damp.

"Oh! Hello, my jester." She says, and the Knight can feel her eyes on her, on her furious glare, on her balled fists. "Is everything quite alright?"

"She besmirches your honor." She hisses, and it's not a lie, even if it's not truly what upsets her.

"Oh, methinks it already besmirched." Says the Fool, as she twirls away and trots jauntily down the hall.

~~~

DAY 9: FEASTS AND FEATS

The Fool sits askew in a chair and lazily gnaws a turkey leg.

She finds the endless bounties of the royal kitchens aren't quite as satisfying, of late. She wants more, though this is perhaps the most lucrative job she's ever pulled off, and she still knows not how she fell into it.

She is a thief, in her heart of hearts. She wants what others have.

What the Knight has.

The Queen- She's cute. Sweet. You spend enough time trying to make a girl laugh, and your heart starts to flutter when she does, even if it's just a job. Even if you bitch and moan to anyone who'll listen, to yourself, that you don't want to be there.

And she's not stupid. Obviously, a jester and a queen, it was never going to happen. But she could joke, couldn't she? 'Ohoho, the Fool wants to fuck the Queen', she can say things and they don't matter, because she's just a fool. Nothing she says matters.

But it used to feel good, to say it. Put it out into the world, a fun impossibility, and then it didn't weigh on her heart anymore.

And then the gardens.

Today's feast is celebrating the Knight, the fucking Knight, for her victory in some dueling competition where all the nobles make their lapdogs fight for their amusement. She's sure the Queen just fucking swooned to see that hers was the strongest mutt of the lot. Probably rigged anyway, seeing as she's the Queen.

She can't think of jokes. She puts her feet on the table and gulps down wine.

It started small.

Obviously the Queen and a jester was out of the question, but the Queen and her knight was also meant to be out of the question, so what the fuck? It didn't even hurt, right away. She could needle the Knight about it and make the Queen laugh and it was okay, but there were scales shifting balance inside her. Her heart flutters, when the Queen laughs. Her heart aches, when the Queen laughs.

Choosing her out of everyone, giving her poetic nicknames, laughing at her jokes- It doesn't matter, none of it matters. Her heart is with the Knight.

That laughter can never be hers, not truly.

The ache has only grown in the months since. Tipped the scales entirely, these past weeks, and now she grows bitter and resentful. Wonders why she was brought here, to suffer these indignities.

Simmers, in the awful summer heat.

[erii-ya]

‘If it’s you….’ Part 2

Killer x FemReader

Part 1

Content Warning: Violence, mentions of blood, bloodshed, death, void of emotions, killing

WC: 1,149

A/N: One Piece is the beautiful creation of the genius Eiichiro Oda-sensei. It has heavy *spoilers* for the Wano Arc since the context revolves around Udon Prison. Please remember that the flow of the story is just a fantasy in my head, and English is not my mother tongue.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Hitokiri Kamazo, a criminal who worked under Orochi, assassinates people the Shogun deems punishable. His wanted posters were everywhere, especially at the Flower Capital. People were made aware to take extra caution at night when he’s lurking around any corner—a ruthless killer who finds joy in bloodshed. At least, that’s what the rumors said. Little did you know that the criminal would turn out to be someone you know. A person dear to you. Your thing of obsession.

Killer wails while laughing hysterically. He didn’t answer Kid, but tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. You’re even sure you saw him peek in your direction, but it happened too fast you couldn’t catch his gaze.

“What?! He’s the guy with the mask that was always with Jaggy?!” Luffy exclaimed. Oh yeah, you’re with your captain. You got so invested in what’s happening that you forgot your current situation.

Old man Hyogoro moved closer to you and Luffy, “You know him?” he asked no one in particular. Without skipping a beat, you said, “Yeah.” glancing over to the old man. “As you may already know, the redhead is also a captain of another pirate crew like Luffy, and the blonde guy…” musing back to Killer, “is his vice-captain.” You choked a bit on the last part. It felt like your throat ran dry. To be honest, a looming headache grows by the minute the longer you watch. You’re too confused, in rage, and keeping these intense emotions at bay is torturing you. It makes you wonder how you can still stay calm and collected when all the fibers in your body are screaming murder.

“Jaggy possibly tried to save him and their crew,” Luffy concluded. ‘Well, obviously.’

Eustass Kid may be known as a vicious pirate, but he’s a compassionate captain to his crew. Not that you’ll see it in public, but you’re one of those people who knew, if not the only one. Kid will do anything to protect his people, especially since his crew was with him in his highs and lows.

Hyogoro shakes his head sympathetically. “How cruel.” he started. “He was forced to eat the SMILE fruit that takes away one’s emotions. Only to be given a mask of laughter that can never be taken off.”

After hearing that, you swiftly turn towards him. “…the hell do you mean?! What – What Smile fruit?! What is this ‘being devoid of emotion’ thing about?! Explain!!” With an intent look in your eyes, you literally growled at the old man.

A sudden silence filled the air, and you weren’t even aware. Everyone in the area who heard your outburst is now looking in your direction. Your reaction made the old man so taken aback that he was speechless. Probably because he wasn’t expecting you to react that way. You grab onto his shoulder, practically shaking him too hard while you insist he answer you. Even Eustass Kid and Killer, who made a scene a while ago, focused their eyes on your direction.

Standing tall in front of your group, Queen decided to intervene and answer you instead. “Let me do the honors for you, boy.” smiling devilishly. “SMILEs are artificially made devil fruits. It intends to grant the consumer the power of animal transformation, much like a Zoan-type Devil Fruit.”

‘Artificially made devil fruit? That was possible?’ you thought.

Still, he continued, “However, the success rate of achieving the desired outcome of gaining animal powers after consuming SMILE is only 10%, thus considering those who successfully did as ‘Gifters.’ The other 90% who ate a dud…” Queen points at Killer as though to make his point.

“I mean, it’s not that bad, yeah? He may not gain any powers, but he gained an everlasting HAPPINESS!” as if to add salt to injury, roaring with mocking laughter.

All the other beast pirates guffawed at the remark.

You remembered what you saw on the light-scroll snail earlier about the citizens who laughed at the person who was executed. “So you mean to say those people laughing at the dead earlier was…” you spoke, waiting for him to say the obvious.

“Uh-huh, they ate a dud, too. Orochi probably did it; how he did it is beyond me, as if I care.” It wasn’t apparent before, so you thought poorly about the citizens, who also turned out to be victims.

Now it’s all clear...

....and that was your last straw.

Forcing people to eat a defective devil fruit, voiding them with emotions but constant joy, and capturing innocent people for them to do hard labor in this prison. You thought you already saw the unthinkable.

In Punk Hazard~

In Dressrosa~

But it seems evil exists in any other country. Not only is it constant, but the level of evil only escalates from one country to another. The longer you and your crew journeyed, the more you realized how revolting the world is.

You had your share of a dark past, and your soul may be frying up good in hell, but at least you don’t pretend to be good.

The emotions you struggled to constrain are now raging more than ever.

Hands shaking, you clenched your fists.

Resisting is futile, and you know that.

Now, all you see is red, and you’re already raring to go.

You took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and then snorted, followed by a boisterous laugh. You laughed so hard you’re tearing while clenching your tummy. Queen and his men were stunned at your action.

On the other hand, Luffy…

“No good. No good. No good.” He hurriedly reached out to grab you, "Y/N!!" but it was too late.

Your right fist jabbed Queen’s stomach, sending him flying to the other end of the arena, dragging some of his men who were caught on impact. The next thing happened after another, and most of the beast pirates went down one by one.

Blood splattered all over the place as you go on a rampage. Blinded by rage, you walk the path of destruction. With everything you’ve learned and heard, you let your emotions get the best of you.

Luckily, Luffy quickly evacuated the prisoners. He was wary that this might happen after you discover Kamazo's true identity and what had happened to him.

In fact, he felt the same way as you, though not as intense to the point of killing. But that was a part of who you are that Luffy accepted with open arms. Your captain is not one to judge people; he also knows how deeply you care about Killer.

In reality, it’s not only because you care about him but because your deep affection towards the man becomes an obsession.

No one messes with your Milý and gets away with it.

Alive.

You swear, in the name of all things holy and on your damned soul, you’ll make sure to sweep this place clean.

Colored in red.

Continued in Part 3...