#he fell in love with someone that happens to be a prince

[ohokaylie]

To whom it may concern:

Hello I’ve come back on here after 6 months to say, I swear on everything if Simon and Wille aren’t together by the end of this show, someone at Netflix and the writers of YR will be paying for my pain and suffering. Count your MF days.

[deadsetobsessions]

It takes a lot to break a ghost. After all, even death didn’t keep them down for long, not in any way that mattered.

There is, however, a sure fire way to utterly crush a ghost’s core without even touching it.

Find their grave, and defile it.

It is the height of cruelty. It is the ultimate act of disrespect. It is violation, of the deepest kind, an act that can never, ever be allowed to go unpunished.

As Danny stared at the remains of the toppled over rock tower that Tucker and Sam had made for him all those years ago, to honor his death, he wasn’t sure if he could survive this.

——

Please.

Zatanna looked around. The magician knew better than to write off the sound as a trick of her mind.

You have to help him. Please. He’s just a child.

“Who? What’s wrong?” Zatanna asked, heart aching for the grieving whispers of the young voice.

My brother. His grave. It’s been destroyed. Please.

Zatanna’s hair stood on ends. “What’s his name? Where is it?”

Amity Park. His name is Phantom. Please. Hurry.

Her heart skipped a beat. Phantom. The name of the Infinite Realm’s Champion, the future king.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Can you lead me there?”

I can’t. I won’t be here for much longer. Tell him Jazz sent you. Please. Help him. Help him.

“I will.”

When Zatanna portals out of her dressing room, she catches a flash of red hair.

——

“CONSTANTINE!”

“Gah! Zatanna?” John Constantine fell out of his chair, legs slipping from their place propped onto the table.

“Emergency! Infinite Realms level. Someone destroyed Phantom’s grave.”

Constantine scrambled upwards, pulling on his coat as his mind all but bleated like a highland goat at the sound of “Infinite Realms” and “Phantom’s grave.” Destroying a ghost’s grave might destroy the ghost, but if they survive the initial splintering, right before their final death, they’ll explode in a ball of fury. Normally, it would be slightly less of a problem. Normally, it wouldn’t be the most powerful ghost in the Infinite Realms. Normally, this wouldn’t happen. Normally, even if it did, it wouldn’t risk a war none of the universes would win. The Infinite Realms loves prince Phantom. Their grief over this… even if he survives, the consequences would be unimaginable.

“You contact the League. I have to go fix this, right now.”

John doesn’t bother going for his hottle, because he unfortunately needed to do this sober.

“Go, go!”

——

Danny doesn’t turn even as he hears the crunch of grass blades. He sits, staring blankly at what used to be his grave marker.

“Hi, there,” it’s a woman. She sounds sad. Danny understands, because all he feels is a whistling hole where his heart used to be. “Are you Phantom?”

Danny sighs, ice crackling at his lungs. He knows, when this is over, he’ll find it in himself to rage. If he doesn’t shatter from this, he knows he’ll take Amity out. Perhaps he’d spare this one. It’s been a long time since anyone bothered visiting or even knew about his grave.

“Your highness…your sister sent me. Jazz?”

That got Danny’s attention. Glowing green eyes peeked from the curled ball of ghost to stare Zatanna down.

She swallowed.

“She… had red hair?”

“Why are you here?” Why did she send you? He doesn’t say. Zatanna seems to understand anyways.

“To help. Please, will you let me help?”

Danny looks down at the ice freezing her feet to the ground and thinks of the kind set of her eyes, the steel backing her spine, the carefully nonthreatening posture. Yes, Jazz would send this kind of person to help him.

The ice melts.

“Thank you.”

Danny watches as she approaches his destroyed grave. She glances back for his permission. He shrugs. It’s destroyed. Nothing would ever bring it back.

And then, he was proven wrong.

Zatanna’s eyes glow, and the stones began melding itself back together- no, it was reversing the damage and zooming back to its proper place.

“Oh.”

The damage to his core was still there. But… he won’t kill this one at all.

Or her friends, who stand at the edge of the clearing with the soul-torn one standing at the helm.

“Is this… alright, your highness?”

Danny stares at Zatanna. His voice is hoarse but… but it’s not on the verge of insanity anymore.

“Do you always come to graves without an offering?”

He knows he’s being rude. He’s past the point of caring. Zatanna’s response is to pull a bouquet of lilies from behind her back.

——

Phantom’s face is so young, and it’s even younger when he smiles.

“Not always,” Zatanna replies, rolling her eyes. But when she settles the flowers down, they’re gently placed.

“Can you magic clovers around it?” Phantom asks, that note of painful hope cracking her own heart. She wonders how old he was when he died.

“Of course.”

A field of clovers surrounds the rock tower, and Zatanna adds four layers of heavy wards around the area when she grows them. Phantom notices, and looks up at her with… trust.

“I am Zatanna. Your sister, Jazz, sent me.”

“Okay. You can call me Phantom.”

——

“I want their heads.” Danny says.

“We don’t kill.”

“Then hand them over to us, for they have hurt the Great One. They will answer for their crimes.” Frostbite settles a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Alright.”

“Constantine.”

Constantine somehow manages to drag Batman away to hiss in his ears.

“Shit in a hole, Batsy, I’m not fucking with the Infinite Realms. My demons won’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Destroying a ghost’s grave is an act of war, and an act of complete violation, and we’re lucky Phantom liked Zee enough not to completely bring ruin to our universe. So shut up, and get the bastards that did this.”

“Hm.”

——

Zatanna sits in the visitors chair, Batman’s and Constantine’s disgruntled selves standing behind her.

“How old are you, Phantom?”

“Hm?” The future King looks exhausted, understandably. “Oh, sixteen.”

“You’re… sixteen? That’s how old you look, right?”

She’s hoping that he’s older, that he’s a millennia and a half years old. Because if he wasn’t, whoever broke Phantom’s grave, broke the grave of a child.

“No, I’m sixteen. My body looks fourteen. I died when I was fourteen.”

Constantine swears.

Batman straightens and walks out, fists clenched.

Zatanna eases the hum of hunting magic at her finger tips and smiles at Phantom until he sleeps.

Then, she gets up, and hunts.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: I'd Rather Date the Male Lead's Dad - Lilia Vanrouge x reader

When you end up in your best friend's favourite but absurd novel about breaking a fae prince's curse, you didn't expect to get attached to his little family too. Even more unexpected? You fell for the male lead's dad, but hey it looks like he likes you too.

Series Masterlist

You love your best friend. You really, really do. But sometimes—sometimes—the things they drag you into make you question your life choices. This time? It’s a novel. A bad one.

The plot is borderline unreadable, but somehow, it’s now your problem. Because of course it is.

“So, listen,” your friend had said, waving the book around like it was some kind of literary masterpiece. “Malleus Draconia, the fae prince, is cursed—chained up in this forest. The curse can only be broken by someone who isn’t attracted to him. But here’s the kicker: he’s so hot that no one can break the curse. For ten years.”

“Uh-huh.” You’d nodded along, already feeling your brain cells start to wave white flags of surrender. But your friend continued.

“The main character stumbles upon him after years of drama and frees him because they’re the only one not drooling over him. Then they fall in love, blah, blah, blah.”

At this point, you were barely listening. But then they dropped the bomb. Your eyes were shutting and you felt the sweet embrace of sleep call to you.

“Also, there’s this subplot where a magical plague of squirrels overruns the kingdom, the Saint betrays everyone by secretly being a double agent for some shadowy organization, and—get this—there’s a surprise paternity reveal where the devil is the father of the Saint who turns out to be the evil villain controlling everything.”

Your face had hit the pillow as your soul left your body.

And somehow, the next thing you remember is waking up dead. Or, more specifically, reincarnated. In the body of the heroine. In that story.

You can't believe the story was so terrible that it killed you.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that the room is way too fancy for your tastes. The bed is massive, the sheets feel like they cost more than your entire existence, and the walls are adorned with tacky portraits of people who are probably supposed to be important.

“Oh, no,” you groan, rubbing your eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

But it is. You’re in the novel. The very one your friend had been yammering about. And not only are you in it, but you’ve woken up a full year before the plot is supposed to kick off. A year of waiting for terrible drama, an ex-fiancé who can’t take a hint, and a poor fae prince you’re supposed to rescue.

But you? Yeah, you’re not that patient.

“No way am I waiting a whole year for some garbage plot to unfold,” you mutter, throwing the covers off. “I’m just going to free Malleus now, take my reward, and live a quiet, drama-free life by the beach.”

With that plan firmly in mind, you march out the door.

It takes a bit of wandering through some overly cursed forest, but you eventually find Malleus’s “prison.” And honestly? It’s not nearly as dramatic as you expected.

There he is, sitting in the middle of a clearing, chained up in some kind of spooky-but-also-weirdly-ornate setup. He looks just as the novel described: tall, dark-haired, horns giving him an air of mystery and power. But what you weren’t prepared for? The way his eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees you.

“I wasn’t expecting… company,” Malleus says, his voice soft, almost tentative.

You pause for a second. He looks intimidating, sure, but there’s something oddly… sweet about him. Like a guy who’d get excited over a party invite and then be too shy to actually show up.

“Yeah, I’m just here to get this whole ‘curse-breaking’ thing out of the way,” you say casually, walking up to the chains. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

Malleus blinks, looking a bit confused. “You… are not attracted to me?”

You snort. “Nah, not really. You’re nice to look at, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got my own problems. Let’s just get you free so I can collect my reward and move on.”

He still looks mildly surprised but nods. “Very well.”

With a shrug, you reach out and touch the chains. There’s a brief flicker of light, and they dissolve. Just like that.

Malleus looks down at his freed wrists, clearly shocked. “It… it worked.”

“Yeah, wild, right?” you say, brushing off your hands. “So, about that reward…”

Before you can finish, Malleus stands and, in a tone so polite it makes you feel guilty, says, “You have freed me. Please, allow me to invite you to stay at my castle. As a guest.”

You blink at him. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good.”

Malleus’s expression falters for a moment, and you swear he looks a little sad. “But… I would like to repay you for your kindness.”

He’s giving you this look, all wide-eyed and hopeful, and you realize—he just wants to hang out.

Oh no.

“Ugh, fine,” you groan. “I’ll stick around for a bit.”

The way his face lights up is honestly too pure for someone who was supposed to be all intimidating and all-powerful.

When you arrive at Malleus’s castle, things get interesting real fast. You’re greeted by his entourage—Sebek, who looks like he’s one insult away from going Super Saiyan; Silver, who’s napping on his feet; and Lilia, who seems like the embodiment of chaos.

Sebek is the first to speak, scowling at you with righteous fury. “How DARE you approach Lord Malleus with such insolence!”

You roll your eyes. “I just freed him. You’re welcome.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but Lilia steps forward, his sharp grin making you instantly suspicious. “Oh? You broke the curse? Without being… swayed by our dear Malleus’s charms?”

“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p.’ “Didn’t even break a sweat.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Fascinating. You must have quite the willpower. Or perhaps…” He looks you up and down, clearly intrigued. “You simply have different tastes?”

You blink. Then, without thinking, you point at him. “Actually, yeah. You’re hot.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, during which Sebek looks like he’s been hit with a brick, and Lilia lets out a delighted laugh.

“Oh, you are a delight,” Lilia says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Perhaps you should stay longer.”

“You think I’m joking, but I’m not,” you deadpan, earning a grin from Lilia.

Silver, meanwhile, is still half-asleep and completely unfazed by your chaos. “Good job on freeing Malleus,” he mutters, yawning.

Malleus, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks up. “You… do not find me attractive?”

You turn to him and sigh. “Look, it’s not that you’re not attractive. You’re, like… objectively pretty. But I don’t really go for the whole cursed prince thing.”

Malleus seems to process this slowly, his brows furrowing slightly. “I see…”

“But don’t worry,” you add quickly, feeling a bit bad for the guy. “You’re sweet. It’s a compliment, really.”

Malleus looks a little less confused and a bit more happy. “Sweet? No one has ever called me that before.”

You snort. “Well, I’m calling it now. And hey, you’ve got your freedom, right? Now you can get invited to all those parties you wanted.”

At this, Malleus’s eyes widen slightly, and you realize—oh no, he’s the type who really just wants to be invited to stuff.

“Oh,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re like a giant puppy, aren’t you?”

Malleus tilts his head, clearly confused, but before he can ask, Lilia leans in with a knowing grin. “I think you’ll fit in just fine around here.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is gonna be a long stay, isn’t it?”

Lilia’s smile widens. “Oh, most definitely.”

Later, you’re sitting around the dining hall with the group when Lilia casually brings up the dreaded plot points.

“So, when do you think the magical plague of squirrels will hit?” he asks, almost too casually.

You nearly choke on your drink. “The what now?”

“Oh, didn’t you know?” Lilia smirks. “There’s a prophecy. The squirrels will overrun the kingdom unless someone stops them.”

You blink. “This is real? I thought that part was a fever dream.”

Malleus nods seriously. “The squirrels are quite the threat.”

You slam your head on the table. “I’m trapped in a nightmare.”

Silver, half-asleep as always, just yawns. “I’ll take care of them. Probably.”

And that’s when you realize: maybe you should have let the curse be.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you and Malleus… well, you’ve become friends. It started small, mostly casual conversations where he’d hover around, awkward but eager, just happy to be included. There was this one time you invited him to tea, and the poor guy looked like he was about to cry from happiness. Now? You’re taking your frienship to the next level.

“Hey,” you say, strolling into the throne room where Malleus is doing the farthest thing from brooding. He’s just kind of standing there, staring out the window like he’s daydreaming about a really nice picnic. “Want to go to the market with me?”

The look on his face is priceless. His eyes widen like you’ve just handed him a golden ticket to the best party of the year. “You… want me to accompany you?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, as if this isn’t the biggest deal of his life. “I need to pick up some stuff, and I figured it’d be more fun with a friend. Plus, y’know, maybe someone will actually give me a discount if you’re there.”

Malleus looks like you just offered him the world “I would be honored.”

And that’s how you, Malleus, and the rest of his chaotic entourage—because of course they followed—ended up at the bustling market.

Sebek? Less than thrilled. In fact, you think he might actually be foaming at the mouth. “I cannot believe you are fraternizing with Lord Malleus so casually! Do you not understand the honor you’ve been given?!”

“Sebek,” you sigh, waving a hand dismissively, “we’ve been over this. I’m his friend. Friends do normal stuff together. You know, like going to the market.”

Sebek glares at you like you’ve just insulted his entire bloodline. “Lord Malleus does not engage in such trivialities!”

“Uh,” you glance over at Malleus, who is currently inspecting a row of intricately carved fruit. “He’s literally doing it right now, Sebek.”

Malleus turns to you, holding up a fruit shaped like a tiny dragon. “Would you like to try one? It is said to bring good fortune.”

You grin at him. “If you’re offering, I’m down.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode from sheer indignation.

“You dare—!”

“Sebek,” Malleus cuts in, his voice as gentle as ever. “I am quite enjoying myself. There’s no need to worry.”

You grin at the sight. “You’re really into this, huh?”

Malleus glances at you, a little bashful but still smiling. “I have never been invited to something like this before. It is… a new experience.”

Oh god, he’s so sweet. You feel like you’re corrupting a baby deer by dragging him into the real world, but it’s so worth it.

Lilia, however, is having the time of his life. He leans over, grinning like the mischievous little gremlin he is, and whispers in your ear, “I must say, you’ve got quite the charm. Lord Malleus rarely accepts invitations. You might be more important to him than you think.”

You snort. “Yeah, well, maybe he just really likes fruit.”

Lilia laughs, a sound that’s equal parts endearing and dangerous. “Or maybe he enjoys your company, hm?”

“Careful,” you say, flashing a grin. “Keep sweet-talking me like that, and I might start flirting back.”

Lilia’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Oh? I think I’d enjoy that.”

Oh god, he’s not backing down. Now you’re in the deep end. “Listen, if you keep going, I’m gonna have to ask if you’ve got plans for dinner.”

“I’m free this evening,” Lilia replies smoothly. “Shall I prepare a feast? Or perhaps we could have something more… intimate?”

You blink at him, unable to tell if he’s messing with you or if this is just how he operates. Either way, you’re so down to find out.

Before you can respond, Sebek cuts in, voice raised to what can only be described as ‘angry airhorn.’ “You will not speak so casually to Master Lilia!”

“Oh, Sebek, relax,” you say, patting him on the shoulder, which is a mistake because it feels like patting a brick wall. “He likes it.”

Lilia winks at you, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. “Indeed, I do.”

You smirk, shooting Lilia a playful look. “See? The man’s practically begging for attention.”

Malleus, meanwhile, has been watching this entire exchange with mild confusion. “Is this what humans call… flirting?”

You give him an exaggerated nod. “Yup. It’s a sacred tradition. Very serious stuff.”

“I see,” Malleus muses, looking between you and Lilia. “Perhaps I should try it as well?”

“Oh, please don’t,” Sebek groans, looking absolutely horrified at the idea of Malleus flirting. “Lord Malleus, you are above such trivial pursuits!”

Lilia is practically cackling at this point. “Now, now, Sebek. It wouldn’t hurt to let Malleus explore new experiences.”

You grin and elbow Malleus lightly. “Don’t listen to Sebek. You can totally flirt if you want.”

Malleus, sweet as he is, looks completely serious when he asks, “What would I say? I do not wish to offend.”

You pause, trying very hard not to laugh. “Okay, how about this? Try complimenting someone. Like…” You glance around and point at a vendor selling flowers. “Tell them they have lovely flowers.”

Malleus nods, taking this very seriously, and walks over to the vendor. You, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver (who’s been napping the whole time) watch as Malleus, ever the gentleman, says to the vendor, “Your flowers… are as radiant as the moonlight.”

The vendor looks flustered, blushing furiously. “Oh! Thank you, My Lord!”

You can’t help but laugh. “See? You’re a natural.”

Malleus returns to your side, looking pleased with himself. “I believe that went well.”

“Yeah, now you just have to work on *accepting* compliments,” you say with a wink, and Malleus tilts his head slightly in confusion.

“Accepting?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “like, if I were to tell you you’re the sweetest giant fae-dragon puppy I’ve ever met, you’d say…?”

Malleus looks genuinely flustered, his cheeks tinting the faintest shade of pink. “I… would say… thank you?”

“Good enough,” you laugh, nudging him playfully. “We’ll work on it.”

Sebek is muttering to himself about ‘disrespect’ and ‘sacrilege,’ but Malleus looks… happy. Like, really happy. He’s still a little awkward, sure, but you can tell he’s having a good time. Probably more fun than he’s had in years.

Lilia, meanwhile, is back at your side, leaning in close with that smirk of his. “You’re quite the influence, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” you grin, “someone’s gotta drag him into the real world.”

“Perhaps you’ll drag me into something as well?” Lilia purrs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink at him. “Keep talking, and I might actually propose to you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lilia says, eyes glinting with mischief. “Perhaps later tonight?”

“Is that an invitation?” you quip, raising an eyebrow.

Sebek practically has steam coming out of his ears. “Master Lilia!”

But Lilia just laughs, utterly unfazed. “Oh, Sebek. You really must learn to loosen up.”

Silver yawns loudly, cutting through Sebek’s rant like a chainsaw through butter. “Can we get food now?”

You snort. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

Malleus, ever the polite host, nods eagerly. “Yes, let us dine together. A family outing is not complete without a meal.”

You pause, blinking. Family? Did he just call this a family outing?

Lilia catches your expression and chuckles. “Oh dear, it seems Malleus has grown quite fond of you.”

You shoot him a playful glare. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all,” Lilia says, smiling knowingly. “In fact, I believe it’s quite the opposite.”

Before you can respond, Malleus steps up, still radiating pure joy. “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight? I would very much enjoy your company.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to self-destruct from sheer disbelief, but you? You can’t help but grin. “Sure, why not? But if I catch you stealing my dessert, it’s game over.”

Malleus chuckles, his awkwardness fading just a bit. “I shall do my best to restrain myself.”

Lilia leans over, voice low and teasing again. “Perhaps you’ll save dessert for me, hm?”

You snort. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

“Ah, but I’m a fae. Luck is my specialty.”

You shake your head, grinning as you walk alongside Malleus, who’s positively glowing with happiness. Yeah, this is one weird, dysfunctional family, but maybe you like it that way.

It’s quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that settles deep in your bones, making you feel both peaceful and unbearably restless. You find yourself standing on a balcony, overlooking the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The cool breeze whispers through the trees, the scent of night-blooming flowers drifting lazily through the air.

Lilia stands beside you, leaning against the stone railing, his usual playful demeanor absent. In its place is a rare solemnity, something you’ve only seen glimpses of before. You glance at him, noting the way the moonlight catches in his hair, casting soft shadows across his face. It feels... strange, seeing him like this. So serious, so quiet.

After a long silence, he speaks, his voice soft but weighted with emotion. “I was terrified, you know. Of losing him.”

You don’t need to ask who he’s talking about. Malleus. The curse that had wrapped around him for so long, a dark cloud that threatened to take him away. You had been the unexpected catalyst for breaking it, and while you hadn’t fully understood the gravity of it at the time, you’re beginning to now.

Lilia continues, his gaze fixed on the stars above. “I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen many things, lost many people... but the thought of losing him...” He trails off, his voice catching in a way that makes your heart ache. “It would have broken me.”

You swallow, unsure of what to say. What can you say to something like that? You’re just... you. You never asked to be involved in any of this, never imagined that you’d become such an important part of these people’s lives. But here you are.

“I didn’t do anything special,” you finally manage, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just... there.”

Lilia turns to look at you, and there’s something deep in his eyes—something raw and real that takes your breath away. “Sometimes just being there is enough,” he says quietly. “You saved him. And in doing so, you saved me too.”

You shift uncomfortably, not because of his words, but because of the way they tug at something deep inside of you. A part of you that you’ve been trying to keep buried for as long as you’ve been in this strange, unfamiliar world.

You’re silent for a long time, your gaze fixed on the moonlit sky. The memories of your old life swirl in your mind—your family, your best friend, all the people you’ve left behind. You haven’t spoken about it to anyone here, not in detail. It feels too dangerous, too vulnerable. But standing here, under the moonlight with Lilia, you feel like maybe... just maybe... you can share a piece of it.

“I miss them,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “My family. My best friend. I miss... home.”

Lilia doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. He doesn’t press for details, doesn’t ask questions you’re not ready to answer. He just listens, and somehow, that’s enough.

You take a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs. “It’s hard,” you continue, your voice shaking slightly. “Being here. Being away from them. Sometimes it feels like... like I’m losing pieces of myself. Like I’m forgetting what it felt like to be... whole.”

Lilia’s hand gently rests on your shoulder, a comforting weight that grounds you. “You haven’t lost yourself,” he says quietly. “Not even a little.”

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you. You don’t know if he’s right, but in this moment, you want to believe him. You want to believe that despite everything, despite the distance and the pain and the uncertainty, you’re still... you.

For a long time, the two of you stand in silence, the only sounds the soft rustling of the trees and the distant chirping of crickets. The moon hangs heavy in the sky, casting everything in a silvery glow. There’s a quiet understanding between you and Lilia, a shared pain that neither of you needs to fully explain.

Eventually, Lilia speaks again, his voice so soft it almost blends with the wind. “The world can be a cruel place,” he murmurs. “But it can also be kind. And in moments like this... it feels just a little more bearable, doesn’t it?”

You nod, your throat tight with unshed tears. “Yeah,” you whisper. “It does.”

The night stretches on, and though neither of you say anything more, there’s a comfort in the silence. A bond formed in the quiet acknowledgment of each other’s pain. And for the first time in a long while, you feel like you’re not quite so alone.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

You’re not entirely sure how you ended up here, but somehow, you’re on a date with Lilia. Yes, that Lilia—lord of chaos, culinary adventurer, and general source of havoc.

The setting is picturesque enough: a meadow at sunset, complete with wildflowers and a gentle breeze. At least, it would be picturesque if not for the feast Lilia has prepared, which has a worrying amount of color, movement, and mystery.

“Surprise is the key to a romantic evening,” Lilia declares as he gestures proudly over the assortment of dishes.

You take a moment to assess the display. There’s a vibrantly colored stew that seems to be emitting steam with a life of its own. A platter of vegetables is twitching as if they’re reconsidering their life choices. And there’s a pie—definitely a pie—with something that looks suspiciously like an eyeball poking out from under the crust.

Lilia smiles at you, eyes glinting. “Would you like to try the stew first, my dear? It’s my own special concoction.”

You stare at it, then at him. “How many people have survived eating this?”

Lilia leans in, eyes full of mischief. “Define survived.”

You grin. “Only one way to find out, right?” Before he can respond, you reach for the bowl and take a large spoonful of the stew. Lilia’s eyebrows rise, clearly impressed by your boldness.

It tastes... unusual. Like someone mixed spicy peppers, sweet berries, and some kind of very sharp herb. You take another bite, considering.

Lilia watches you, waiting for a reaction. “Well?” he asks, a hopeful glint in his eye.

You swallow, then nod thoughtfully. “It’s... actually good. Really good, in fact.”

Lilia blinks, his expression shifting from mischief to genuine surprise. “Really?”

You nod again, going in for a third bite, savoring the strange combination of flavors. “Yeah! I mean, it’s different, but in a good way. The spice, the sweetness... it kind of works.”

Lilia’s face lights up, his delight palpable. “You truly mean it? My culinary prowess is usually met with... trepidation.”

“Trepidation might be an understatement,” you say with a laugh. “But honestly? I think people don’t give you enough credit.”

From somewhere nearby, a strangled gasp echoes across the meadow.

“Master Lilia!” Sebek’s voice rings out, sounding more horrified than ever. You glance in the direction of the bushes where, sure enough, they’re rustling. Apparently, Sebek has taken it upon himself to supervise this date from afar.

Lilia chuckles, clearly enjoying Sebek's reaction as much as yours. “Oh, my dear Sebek. One day, you shall learn that adventure begins in the kitchen.”

You take a sip of the iridescent liquid before you—a drink that looks more like a potion than anything else. It’s sparkling, and it has the distinct taste of... glittery fruit juice? You’re not sure, but it’s oddly refreshing.

Lilia eyes you, his smile turning softer, more genuine. “I must say, you are full of surprises. Most would have fainted by now.”

“Hey, I can handle a little excitement,” you say, reaching for one of the twitching vegetables.

Lilia watches in awe as you pop it into your mouth and chew. “And?” he asks, almost breathless.

You blink. “Crunchy. Kind of earthy. I like it.”

Lilia’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, how wonderful! My dear, you truly are one of a kind.”

Sebek’s dismayed groan echoes once again, and you laugh, glancing toward the bushes. “I think we’re breaking poor Sebek.”

“Well, that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Lilia replies, leaning closer to you. “And speaking of fun, I have something special for you.” He produces a bright blue flower, presenting it to you with a flourish.

You take it, giving it a cautious sniff. It smells like fresh-baked cookies, and you look at Lilia, raising an eyebrow. “A flower that smells like dessert? Now you’re really spoiling me.”

Lilia’s eyes soften, his voice lowering. “Only the best for someone who appreciates my unique touch.”

Before you can reply, there’s another voice—this one distinctly sleepy. “Father, what... what’s going on here?” Silver approaches, looking like he just woke up from a nap. He takes one look at the scene—the half-eaten dishes, the flower in your hand, and Lilia’s delighted expression—and sighs. “Are you actually eating this... willingly?”

You nod, grinning. “Turns out Lilia’s cooking isn’t so bad. It’s actually kind of great.”

Silver looks at you, then at Lilia, then back at you. He blinks, his brain clearly trying to process this information. “Father, are you using magic to manipulate their taste buds?”

Lilia puts a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Silver, how could you suggest such a thing? I assure you, our dear friend here is enjoying my cooking purely of their own volition.”

Silver sighs again, rubbing his temples. “I think I need another nap.”

Lilia laughs, turning his attention back to you, his eyes filled with affection. “You truly are something special, my dear. Few have ever dared, let alone enjoyed, my creations.”

You smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

Lilia leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Would it be too much to say I find you... irresistible?”

You chuckle, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t push your luck, old man.”

Lilia smirks, his gaze full of warmth. “Ah, but pushing my luck is what I do best. Perhaps next time, I’ll cook an even more adventurous meal for us.”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “Define adventurous.”

Lilia’s eyes glint mischievously. “How about roasted phoenix feathers?”

“Phoenix feathers?” you echo, shaking your head with a laugh. “You know what? I think I like you just the way you are—absurd cooking experiments and all.”

Lilia’s expression softens, his smile turning tender. “I’m glad to hear it.”

With that, the two of you rise, arm in arm, leaving behind the bizarre remains of the meal. Somewhere in the bushes, Sebek is probably fuming, and Silver has most likely already fallen asleep again.

But as you glance at Lilia, whose eyes are still filled with excitement and warmth, you think that maybe absurd is just what you need.

You love this little family, but you had to gain equal footing with Sebek before you got attached any further. So you did what you thought would work the best— Challenge him in something he enjoys.

You and Sebek had been circling the field for a while now, your horses galloping side by side as you both tried to outpace each other. The competitive tension was thick in the air, though not hostile—it was more of an unspoken game to see who would crack first.

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been riding horses for *years*?” Sebek shouts over the wind, his eyes sharp with determination.

“Yup,” you reply, grinning as your horse picks up speed. “Equestrian club, since I was a kid. Surprised?”

Sebek huffs, his posture straight and rigid as always, but you can tell he’s impressed. “It’s… commendable. For a human, you’ve got some skill.”

“Some skill?” you tease, glancing over at him with a mischievous smile. “Is that all I get? Come on, Sebek, I thought you were competitive.”

He narrows his eyes at you, spurring his horse faster to pull ahead. “I am competitive! You’ll find I do not lose so easily.”

You laugh, nudging your horse to keep up. There’s a thrill in it—pushing each other, but not in a mean way. Sebek’s passion for horse riding matches your own, and it’s fun to finally find common ground with him. Plus, you’re enjoying the challenge.

The field blurs by as you both race toward the far fence, neither of you backing down. As you approach the finish line (or rather, the arbitrary spot you both decided was the end), you both cross it at nearly the same time, pulling your horses to a halt, panting slightly.

Sebek is the first to speak, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Hmph. You’re not bad.”

“Not bad? I’d say I’m pretty good,” you shoot back, grinning ear to ear.

Sebek scoffs, but there’s a lightness in his tone that wasn’t there before. “You’re still a human, but… I’ll admit, you ride with some honor.”

“Wow, high praise,” you tease, but you soften your smile. “Thanks, Sebek. You’re not half-bad yourself.”

For a split second, you think you catch the ghost of a smile on his face, but it quickly disappears as he straightens in his saddle. “Of course. Riding is in my blood.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, obviously. I bet you were born in the saddle.”

“Perhaps I was,” Sebek says, completely serious. You stifle a laugh, realizing he probably believes that.

But before you can retort, Lilia rides up, his usual mischievous grin firmly in place. “Ah, what’s this? A friendly competition between two of my favorite people?”

“Master Lilia,” Sebek says, immediately shifting into soldier mode. “We were just—”

“Competing, yes, I can see that.” Lilia’s grin widens as he glances between the two of you. “I must say, the sight of you both racing like that was… quite exhilarating.”

You smirk, not missing a beat. “What, did we impress you?”

Lilia leans closer, voice dropping into a playful tone. “Oh, darling, I’ve been impressed by you for quite some time now.”

Sebek looks like he’s about to faint from sheer mortification. “MASTER LILIA! HUMAN!”

You laugh, waving Lilia off. “Careful, Sebek, you’re gonna scare your horse.”

But surprisingly, Sebek doesn’t snap back. Instead, he looks at you, something softer in his expression. “I admit… you’ve shown me something today. Perhaps you’re not just a reckless human after all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wow, Sebek. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like me.”

Sebek grumbles, looking away. “Do not mistake my words. I merely acknowledge your competence. Nothing more.”

“Sure, sure,” you reply, still grinning. “But hey, anytime you wanna ride again, I’m game.”

Sebek glances back at you, his usual harshness softened just a bit. “Perhaps… I will take you up on that.”

Lilia chuckles, clearly pleased with the budding camaraderie. “Ah, it warms my heart to see you two bonding. Who knows? Maybe you’ll become the best of friends.”

You wink at Lilia. “Well, if Sebek keeps up, maybe I’ll make him my official riding partner.”

Sebek, for once, doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives a small, determined nod. “We shall see, human. We shall see.”

As you ride back toward the stables, you can’t help but smile. You’ve earned a bit of respect from Sebek, and who knows? Maybe you’ll turn this into a full-fledged rivalry—one with a bit more fun and a lot less shouting.

Lilia, of course, flirts all the way back, making sure to keep the mood light and teasing, much to Sebek’s increasing exasperation. But even he can't deny that today was fun

The day should've been as normal as you could have these days—your stomach had other plans. There’s this nagging craving in the back of your mind for ramen, but of course, you’re stuck in a medieval isekai world where even the concept of instant noodles would make heads explode.

You groan, pacing back and forth in your room. "Ramen, ramen, ramen..." You’re practically chanting it like a spell. Finally, you snap your fingers. "Alright! Let’s get some ramen going!"

With all the determination of a contestant in a cooking show, you head to the market, a list of makeshift ingredients mentally prepared. You have no clue how you’re going to explain seaweed or soy sauce to the vendors, but hey, you’ve gotten this far in life on sheer audacity.

Except, ten minutes later, you find yourself hopelessly lost. You had been walking with confidence, chest out, head high, until you somehow managed to wander into a part of town that definitely wasn’t on your mental map. Instead of bustling vendors and cheerful shoppers, you’re now looking at a spooky, abandoned-looking area, complete with dense fog and suspiciously creaky trees.

“This... This isn’t the market,” you mutter, pausing in front of a seriously ominous cottage. If there were ever a sign that said "DO NOT ENTER" in flashing neon, this would be it. And yet, for reasons unknown even to yourself, you approach.

Before you can bolt in the opposite direction, the door swings open with the most dramatic creak you’ve ever heard. A woman, dressed in black robes, stands in the doorway with a gaze that could curdle milk. Her aura practically screams witch, and not the cool kind either—the villainous, melodramatic kind.

“Well, well, well,” she sneers, stepping out with all the grace of a Broadway villain, “look who wandered into my lair.”

“Uh, yeah...” You trail off, scratching the back of your head. “So… this isn’t the market?”

The witch gives you a look so condescending it could melt iron. “No,” she hisses, “it most certainly is not. You’ve trespassed on my domain, little fool!”

“Right, so sorry about that,” you say, trying to backpedal. “I’m just trying to make some ramen, and I—wait, hold on, who are you exactly?”

Her eyes flash with annoyance. “You don’t know who I am?”

You blink at her. “Is this the part where you tell me, like in those cartoons? ‘Cause I’m getting major ‘I’m about to monologue’ vibes right now.”

The witch’s face twitches, clearly not used to people interrupting her villain speech. “I,” she says, pausing for dramatic effect, “am the witch who cursed Malleus Draconia!”

Oh, that witch. You’ve heard some stories about her, mostly from half-paying attention when your friend geeked out over the original plot. But now that you’re face-to-face with her... this is not how you pictured it. You tilt your head.

“So, wait,” you begin, trying to suppress a snicker, “you’re the one who came up with that whole 15-year curse plan? And your big finale was… what? Swooping in at the last second to save him and then expecting him to marry you?”

Her eyes narrow. “That was the plan.”

You stare at her for a moment, the absurdity sinking in. “...That’s ridiculous.”

“How dare you mock me?!” she shrieks, her voice reaching a pitch that probably scared some birds out of nearby trees. She raises her hand, dark magic swirling between her fingers, and you swear you can hear thunder crack in the distance.

“Okay, hang on,” you say, taking a cautious step back. “Let’s not get all zappy here. I’m just saying that’s a lot of effort for a plan that has, like, a one percent success rate.”

“Silence!” She’s fuming now, throwing her hand forward to launch the magic at you—and you brace yourself for the worst. You’ve seen this in movies before. This is the part where you get turned into a frog or something equally terrible.

Except… nothing happens.

The magic fizzles out midair like a dud firecracker, leaving a puff of smoke and an awkward silence in its wake. You blink. She blinks. You both stare at the spot where the magic should have been.

“Uh…” you begin, rubbing the back of your neck. “Was that supposed to do something?”

The witch looks at her hand, then at you, then back at her hand again like she’s having a serious identity crisis. “What...?”

“I mean, points for the drama, but I’m still standing here,” you say, waving your hand in front of your face as if checking for damage. “And I don’t think I’m a toad.”

She tries again, gathering more magic in her hands and launching it at you with renewed fury. But once again, nothing. The magic stops short, fizzling out like it’s hitting an invisible barrier around you. Now she’s just staring at you, dumbfounded.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely flabbergasted. “Okay, this is getting weird.”

That’s when Lilia appears—literally, out of nowhere. He casually steps out from behind a tree like this is all a normal Monday for him. “Ah, I thought I sensed some familiar mischief afoot,” he says, his voice cheerful, though his eyes glint with something far more dangerous as they lock onto the witch.

The witch recoils, visibly shaken. “Lilia Vanrouge,” she hisses, sounding more like a disgruntled cat than a fearsome sorceress.

“In the flesh,” he says with a light bow, his grin all sharp teeth and mischief. “What brings you out of your little hidey-hole?”

She glares at him but doesn’t say anything. She’s outmatched, and she knows it. With one last seething look at you, she vanishes into thin air with a dramatic whoosh of smoke, leaving you and Lilia alone in the now eerily quiet forest.

You turn to him, utterly confused. “What the heck was that about? Why didn’t her magic work on me?”

Lilia’s grin softens, his gaze turning fond. “Ah, I see I’ve forgotten to tell you. I placed a fae’s blessing on you some time ago.”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “When did you do that?!”

He chuckles, as if you asking when he bestowed a magical shield on you is the most amusing thing he’s heard all week. “You tend to attract trouble, my dear. I thought it best to give you a little extra protection.”

You blink at him, still processing. “So… you’ve been secretly protecting me this whole time?”

His gaze turns a bit more serious, the usual playful air dropping away. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t expected.

For a moment, you’re left speechless, flustered even. The teasing and jokes you’re so used to from Lilia are gone, replaced by something… deeper. It throws you off your game.

“Well, uh…” You clear your throat, desperately trying to recover. “I appreciate not getting turned into a frog or whatever she was planning.”

His grin returns, and the moment passes. “You’re welcome. Now, shall we head back to the market? I believe you were on a quest for... ramen, was it?”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the absurdity of it all catches up with you. “Yeah, let’s do that. And maybe next time I’ll avoid wandering into spooky villain lairs.”

“An excellent plan,” he says, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

And just like that, you’re back on track—albeit a bit more shaken than before, but at least you’ve got a magical blessing you didn’t know about and one very charming fae escorting you through the mess.

You’re sitting under a large tree in the courtyard, soaking up the rare bit of peace and quiet that’s fallen over your life. It’s a nice day, the kind that makes you feel all warm and content, the sun shining gently through the leaves. Beside you, Silver is leaning against the trunk, dozing off as usual. You’ve become used to his tendency to fall asleep mid-conversation, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

He stirs a little, blinking his sleepy eyes open and looking at you with a soft smile. “It’s nice to have moments like this,” he says, voice a bit groggy. “Especially after everything.”

“Yeah,” you reply, leaning back on your hands. “It’s been... a lot.”

Silver glances at you, his gaze thoughtful. “You really helped us. My family,” he says, his tone a bit more serious than usual. “Freeing Lord Malleus from that curse... it was no small feat.”

Your stomach twists a little at the mention of Malleus. It still feels surreal that you had a hand in such a monumental event. You shrug, trying to play it cool. “Eh, you know... just another day of accidentally stumbling into chaos.”

He chuckles lightly, his smile softening even more. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to thank you properly for what you’ve done. You really saved us all.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Stop, you’re going to make me blush. I was just trying to make some money, and suddenly I’m in the middle of an epic quest. You know how it is.”

Silver hums, half-amused, and then casually drops the bomb on you like it’s the most normal thing in the world: “You’d be perfect with Father.”

Your brain short-circuits. “...Sorry, what?”

Silver, utterly oblivious to the internal crisis he’s just unleashed within you, looks at you with that serene, peaceful expression of his. “Father. You’d be perfect with him.”

The world screeches to a halt. *Perfect? With Lilia?* You stare at him, wide-eyed, your mouth hanging open in a most undignified manner. “I’m sorry, did you just—did you just suggest that I—me—should be with your father?!”

Silver nods, looking completely at peace with his assessment, like he’s just commented on the weather. “Yes. You two get along well. You make each other laugh, and he seems fond of you. And Father... well, he deserves someone who can make him smile like that.”

Your mind is racing at 100 miles per hour. “Silver. SILVER.” You clutch your head as if physically holding your brain together will stop it from spiraling into madness. “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

Silver, ever the calm and composed knight, merely tilts his head. “Was it something strange?”

“STRANGE?!” You’re flailing now, completely losing your cool. “You just casually suggested I should date your father! Who, may I remind you, is an ancient fae with enough power to casually toss me into another dimension if he wanted!”

Silver blinks, seeming to consider this for a moment. “I don’t think he’d toss you into another dimension. He’d probably just... laugh and then take you out to dinner.”

You’re having a full-blown existential crisis. Your face is bright red, your heart is doing somersaults, and you’re not sure if you want to scream, faint, or throw yourself into the nearest fountain.

Silver, meanwhile, is just sitting there, serene and utterly oblivious to the emotional chaos he’s just unleashed upon you. “Father’s a good person,” He says softly. “I think you two would be happy together.”

“I... I...” You sputter, trying to form words but utterly failing as images of Lilia’s teasing smile and playful banter run through your mind. And then you imagine the alternative: Lilia’s serious side, the one that is somehow even more terrifyingly attractive, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“Oh no,” you whisper, clutching your chest. “Oh no, no, no... Silver, what have you done?”

Silver looks at you with concern now, finally noticing that you’re having what can only be described as a breakdown. “Are you alright?"

“NO!” you cry, standing up and pacing back and forth in front of him. “You’ve broken me! You’ve ruined me! I’m—Silver, your father is... He’s... and I... Oh, gods, this is too much. TOO MUCH!”

Silver watches you pace for a moment before quietly saying, “You’re thinking about it, though.”

You freeze mid-step. “I—NO! Maybe? Yes? I—Why would you say that, Silver?!”

He just smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Because it’s true.”

You slump back down beside him, groaning loudly as you cover your face with your hands. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Silver chuckles softly, resting his head back against the tree again. “I’ve heard that before.”

And as you sit there, your mind spinning with thoughts of Lilia and all the ridiculous, impossible implications Silver’s comment has brought to life, you can’t help but think that maybe—just *maybe*—he has a point.

But you’re not ready to admit that yet. Not even to yourself.

“I need a drink,” you mumble under your breath, and Silver hums in agreement.

“Father would probably help you make it,” he says, and you let out a loud groan, flopping onto the grass in dramatic defeat.

“Silver, you’re killing me.”

He just smiles that peaceful smile of his.

It’s a quiet afternoon, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the courtyard. You’re standing with Malleus and Sebek in one of the palace’s gardens, the tranquil hum of life around you contrasting with the more serious conversation that’s about to unfold. You can feel the weight of what Malleus is about to say, and your mind spins as you prepare yourself for another emotionally charged moment.

Malleus takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “For the longest time,” he begins, his voice soft and filled with an unspoken vulnerability, “I thought I would be stuck. Trapped in that cursed state forever. I had resigned myself to it, believing that it was my fate to be alone.”

You shift slightly, unsure how to respond to such raw honesty. Sebek, standing next to Malleus, is silent for once, his usual loud and defensive nature tempered by the gravity of his lord’s words.

“But then you came along,” Malleus continues, turning his glowing eyes toward you. “You broke the curse, something no one had been able to do. You gave me back my freedom, something I had lost hope of ever regaining.”

Sebek clears his throat loudly, his usual dramatic flair coming to the surface despite the tenderness of the moment. “Yes, well,” he says, voice gruff but tinged with the awkwardness of someone who isn’t quite used to expressing gratitude. “I... suppose we should be... grateful. After all, if it weren’t for you, Lord Malleus would still be... cursed, and we wouldn’t be here together as we are now.”

You blink at Sebek’s begrudging admission, feeling a small smile tug at your lips. The fact that he of all people is thanking you, even in such a roundabout way, is oddly touching.

“Wow, Sebek,” you say, voice teasing but soft. “Who knew you had it in you?”

Sebek bristles at your words, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “D-Don’t misunderstand!” he exclaims, face turning a shade redder than usual. “I’m merely stating the facts! Nothing more!”

Malleus chuckles softly at Sebek’s outburst, his usual gentle smile returning to his face. “Sebek’s gratitude, no matter how begrudging, is indeed a rarity,” he teases lightly before turning his attention back to you. “But truly, I am grateful. You’ve given me back more than just my freedom. You’ve given me back... this.”

He gestures around him, indicating the garden, the palace, the sky above. “This life, this chance to be with those I care about. And for that, I owe you a debt that I may never be able to repay.”

You shift awkwardly, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “I mean, I didn’t really set out to save anyone,” you admit, your voice light but with an edge of honesty. “I just... wanted the reward. And then maybe to go home.”

Sebek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Malleus holds up a hand, stopping him before he can launch into one of his dramatic tirades

You hesitate, glancing between Malleus and Sebek. “I didn’t think I’d get attached,” you admit quietly, your voice softening. “But I have. Somehow, I’ve found myself... caring about all of you. This weird little makeshift family.”

Sebek looks as though he’s about to protest the “weird” part, but a stern glance from Malleus keeps him quiet. You can see the begrudging acknowledgment in his eyes, though—he knows it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Malleus hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he speaks again. “Well,” he says casually, as if discussing something as simple as the weather, “if you’re so attached, perhaps we should make it official. Perhaps you should marry into the family."

You freeze. Did he just—?

You whip your head towards Malleus, completely flustered. “M-Marry?! What?!”

Sebek, on the other hand, looks as if someone just punched him in the face. His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, his eyes wide with outrage. “L-Lord Malleus, what are you suggesting?!” he sputters.

Malleus blinks, as calm as ever. “I’m suggesting marriage,” he repeats, as if it’s the most logical thing in the world. “If they are so attached to us, it seems a reasonable next step. Perhaps they should marry Lilia?”

Your face turns a bright shade of red as your heart pounds in your chest. “Wh-What?!” you stammer. “Lilia?!”

Sebek turns even redder, his face contorting in disbelief. “Master Lilia?!”

Malleus nods sagely, completely unfazed by both of your reactions. “Yes, Lilia. He has shown great affection for them, and they would fit well within our family. Would you not agree, Sebek?”

Sebek looks like he’s about to explode, but there’s an uncomfortable silence as he realizes… he can’t argue. He knows Malleus and Lilia both care about you. He knows that you’ve proven yourself to be a good person, despite his initial distrust. His mouth twitches, the words clearly struggling to escape his throat.

“I—well—Lord Malleus,” Sebek starts, looking every bit as if he’s been defeated by sheer logic. “I… I must admit… They are a suitable companion for Master Lilia… even if the idea of them marrying… well, it is quite… outrageous.”

You feel your soul leave your body as the conversation continues. Sebek can’t quite bring himself to fully agree, yet he doesn’t outright refuse the idea either. His loyalty to his lords binds him, and his begrudging acceptance of your presence has left him caught between duty and outrage.

“I—This—” you stammer, completely overwhelmed. “I—This is insane!”

Malleus looks at you with a calm smile. “Think it over,” he says, voice gentle. “You’ve already become part of our lives. Why not make it official?”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words die in your throat as you see the sincerity in his eyes. This isn’t just a flippant suggestion—it’s Malleus genuinely offering you a place in his family. But the idea of marrying Lilia? That’s… that’s a whole new level of madness.

“I—I think I need to lie down,” you mutter, pressing your hands to your temples. “This is too much.”

Malleus chuckles softly, and even Sebek seems to relax—if only a little. But as you glance between the two of them, you can’t help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Even with all the absurdity, you know one thing for sure: you’ve found a place with them, whether you intended to or not.

The cat was just sitting there. Innocently perched on the branch, fluffy and regal like a tiny, judgmental king. You don’t even know what possessed you, really. Maybe it was those huge, adorable eyes or the way its tail flicked back and forth. But somehow, someway, you ended up halfway up a tree. Climbing a tree. For a cat.

“I just wanted to pet you,” you mutter, feeling slightly ridiculous as you hug the branch for dear life. “And now I’m stuck. Great.”

The cat stares at you, completely indifferent to your plight. You sigh, glancing down at the ground, which now seems alarmingly far away. Heights were never your thing, but in the moment, with that cute little furball teasing you, logic flew right out the window. Now, you’re clinging to the tree like a cowardly kitten yourself.

“Why did I think this was a good idea?” you groan. The cat blinks at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault!”

And then, because fate has a terrible sense of humor, you hear a voice from below. A familiar, unmistakable voice—playful, with a hint of amusement laced through it.

“Well, well, what do we have here? It appears my dear little beastie has gotten themselves stuck.”

You nearly slip off the branch as you glance down to see Lilia standing at the base of the tree, arms crossed and an infuriatingly amused grin on his face. He looks every bit the mischievous fae, eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter.

“I—uh—this is—” You stammer, trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but nothing comes. You’re halfway up a tree. Because of a cat. No explanation is going to save your dignity now.

Lilia tilts his head, chuckling. “Were you planning on living up there from now on? Or should I assist you in returning to the ground?”

“Hey, don’t judge me!” you huff, cheeks burning. “The cat—look at the cat! It was really cute, okay?”

Lilia glances up at the feline, which is now licking its paw in complete disinterest. He raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, the cat. I see now. How could anyone resist such a noble creature?”

You groan, feeling your face get even hotter. “I—um—I might need help getting down.”

Lilia’s grin widens. “Of course, my dear. I was planning on catching you anyway.”

You freeze. “C-Catching me?”

“Mmhm. Just jump down, and I’ll catch you,” Lilia says, his tone so casual, as if catching people out of trees is just something he does every day. He spreads his arms out, waiting expectantly.

Your heart races as you eye the distance between the branch and the ground again. It’s not terribly high, but… still high enough to make you nervous. But Lilia’s standing there with that easy confidence, and the thought of staying stuck in this tree forever doesn’t exactly appeal to you either.

Taking a deep breath, you inch closer to the edge of the branch. “O-Okay. I’m going to jump.”

“Go ahead,” Lilia says, his voice soft. “I’ll catch you.”

With one last look at the disinterested cat, you finally push yourself off the branch. For a split second, there’s nothing but the rush of air—and then you feel yourself land securely in Lilia’s arms. You’re caught. Easily, gently. Like it was nothing at all.

He looks down at you, his face much closer than you anticipated. “See? I told you I would catch you.”

You’re breathless for a moment, your heart doing flips as you realize just how close you are to him. His arms are around you, holding you steady, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his clothes. He’s staring at you with that soft, amused smile, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of just how handsome he is.

“Oh no,” you whisper to yourself, “I’m swooning.”

Lilia raises an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Y-You’re really smooth,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Like, catching me so easily and looking at me like that. It’s—it’s really unfair.”

He chuckles softly, clearly entertained by your flustered state. “Unfair, you say?”

“Yeah, like—like, you’re so effortlessly cool and charming, and I—” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you’re saying. You clamp your mouth shut, but it’s too late. The words are out, and your brain has completely short-circuited.

And then, before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out of you in a panicked rush. “Okay, I like you! No, wait—I think I’m in love with you! I mean, how could I not be? You’re so amazing, and I just—Oh god, I’m confessing! I’m confessing right now, aren’t I? This is a confession. Oh no, this is terrible. I didn’t mean to—”

You feel your entire body heat up as you bury your face in your hands, completely mortified. Of all the ways you could’ve confessed your feelings to Lilia, this had to be the worst possible way. You weren’t ready! You were supposed to be calm and collected, not blurting it out after getting caught in a tree!

For a moment, there’s silence. And then, you hear the softest chuckle from Lilia. His arms tighten around you slightly, pulling you just a little closer.

“You’re adorable,” he says, his voice soft and full of warmth.

You peek through your fingers, confused. “Huh?”

“I’ve known for a while that your feelings for me were more than friendly,” Lilia continues, his smile gentle. “But hearing you confess like this… it’s endearing.”

You blink, trying to process his words. “Wait—you’ve known?”

Lilia nods. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my dear.”

You groan again, hiding your face in your hands once more. “This is so embarrassing…”

Lilia laughs softly, and before you know it, he leans in and presses a light, gentle kiss to your forehead. Your heart skips a beat, and you lower your hands, looking up at him in surprise.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Lilia says, his eyes soft. “I’m honored to be the one you’ve chosen.”

Your heart flutters as his words sink in, and you realize that, despite your mortification, he’s… accepting your feelings. He’s not teasing you or brushing it off—he’s genuinely acknowledging your confession. And more than that… he’s reciprocating.

“Lilia…” you whisper, your face still burning with embarrassment, but also with a warmth that you can’t quite describe.

He leans in a little closer, his nose brushing against yours. “You don’t need to say anything more, my dear. Just know that I feel the same.”

And with that, Lilia closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss that makes your heart race even faster. All thoughts of your earlier panic melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the feeling of being completely safe in his arms.

As he pulls back, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and breathless. Lilia smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection.

“So,” he says, his voice teasing, “was that worth climbing a tree for?”

You blink, still dazed from the kiss. “I… I think so.”

Lilia laughs softly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the ground. “Next time, though, perhaps we’ll find a more dignified setting for your confessions, hmm?”

You groan, covering your face again as you mutter, “Please don’t remind me…”

But despite your embarrassment, you can’t help the small, giddy smile that creeps onto your face as you realize that, somehow, things turned out perfectly anyway.

You sit with Lilia on a bench beneath the shade of a massive oak tree, the same one he caught you from, nerves simmering beneath your calm exterior. He’s as composed as ever, leaning back against the tree with a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

Across from you sit Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, all three watching you with varying degrees of curiosity—Malleus with calm interest, Silver with that sleepy, gentle acceptance, and Sebek with what you’re sure is the beginning of a tirade bubbling just beneath the surface.

“We have some news,” Lilia says, breaking the silence with his usual playful tone. His hand slips into yours, squeezing lightly. “About us.”

Malleus’s eyes light up with interest, his draconic gaze honing in on the subtle intertwining of your hands with Lilia’s. “News?” he repeats, leaning forward slightly. “What sort of news?”

You exchange a glance with Lilia, and he gives you a nod, as if to say go on, it’s safe. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and blurt out, “We’re together. Like, romantically.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Malleus’s eyes widen, his entire face brightening with delight. “Truly?” he asks, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face. “That is wonderful news! You will be joining the family then?”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by how happy he is. “Uh, well—eventually, I guess. We haven’t exactly planned a wedding yet…”

“But when we do,” Lilia interjects smoothly, eyes glinting with amusement, “you will be the first to receive an invitation, Malleus.”

Malleus beams, the delight practically radiating off him like sunlight. “I would expect no less. To witness your union—ah, it will be a grand day.”

Meanwhile, Silver gives you both a small, approving nod. His expression is calm, though there’s a softness in his eyes that shows he’s happy for you. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. “Father deserves someone who makes him happy. And you… you seem to do that.”

Your heart warms at the approval from Silver. “Thanks, Silver,” you say, offering him a smile in return.

And then there’s Sebek.

For a moment, he just stares at you and Lilia, his mouth working as if he’s trying to form words. You brace yourself for the inevitable protest, expecting him to shout something about how inappropriate it is, or how you could never be good enough for Lilia, or—

“You…” Sebek finally speaks, though his tone is less outraged than you anticipated. He scowls, but there’s an undeniable hint of reluctant acceptance in his eyes. “You’re together, then?”

Lilia nods, his smile never wavering. “Indeed, Sebek.”

Sebek inhales deeply, closing his eyes as if preparing for some kind of inner battle. You can almost hear him wrestling with his instincts, wanting to object but also unable to deny the truth of the situation. After a long pause, he finally exhales and mutters, “Well… I suppose… if it makes Master Lilia happy, then…”

You’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when Sebek opens his eyes again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “But that does not mean you should grow complacent! Just because Master Lilia has chosen you does not mean you are exempt from proving yourself worthy!”

Lilia laughs softly at Sebek’s stubbornness, and you can’t help but grin. “Of course, Sebek,” you say, teasing him lightly. “I’ll do my best to live up to your high standards.”

Sebek huffs, crossing his arms. “See that you do.”

Despite his bluster, you can tell he’s not truly upset. There’s a begrudging acceptance in his stance, the same way someone might finally accept that their favorite hero isn’t perfect, but still worthy of respect. Sebek might not be able to fully wrap his head around the idea of you and Lilia being together, but deep down, you can tell he doesn’t disapprove. Not really.

Malleus, meanwhile, is still beaming. “I look forward to your wedding,” he says, sounding genuinely excited. “It will be a grand celebration. And I will be the first to celebrate your union.”

You laugh, finally feeling the tension melt away. “You’ll be the first to get an invitation, don’t worry.”

Lilia squeezes your hand again, his eyes warm as he looks at you. “Indeed,” he says softly, “and I think it will be a lovely celebration.”

As you sit there, surrounded by Lilia’s peculiar little family, you can’t help but feel a swell of emotion. For all their eccentricities—Malleus’s dragon-like mannerisms, Silver’s sleepy but sincere approval, and Sebek’s stubborn loyalty—you’ve somehow found yourself among people who care. Who, in their own ways, are happy to see you and Lilia together.

And as you glance at Lilia, who’s still watching you with that fond, amused expression, you realize something important: this makeshift family of fae and knights… they’ve accepted you.

Flaws and all.

The living room felt a little too tense for your taste today. You were sprawled out on a chair, arms crossed, listening to the absurd conversation that seemed to have spiraled out of control.

Malleus, sitting at the head of the table, had the "serious prince" expression that made you roll your eyes every time you saw it. Lilia was perched on the back of his chair, his legs dangling, thoroughly amused by the current predicament. Sebek stood in his usual soldier-like stance, ready to protect everyone from... squirrels, apparently. And Silver was doing his best to stay upright while leaning on a wall. He was losing that battle.

“It’s time to discuss the prophecy” Malleus said, his voice carrying an ominous weight you found ridiculous. “The Squirrel Plague will bring misfortune. Entire kingdoms will fall to their tiny paws.”

You blinked. “We’re seriously talking about squirrels?”

Lilia nodded with an overly grave face. “Indeed, my dear. Squirrels are resourceful creatures. Vicious even, if the stories are true.”

Sebek puffed up his chest, eyes blazing with his trademark fervor. “MY LORD, IF THOSE RODENTS BELIEVE THEY CAN THREATEN YOU—"

You leaned forward, waving your hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, let's not hype up the squirrels too much, okay? This whole situation is ridiculous.”

Silver, who had just about managed to pry his eyes open, muttered, “It’s not just the squirrels. I heard some people talking about... uh, the Saint being accused of spying or something.”

The room fell into silence for a second, everyone digesting that little bombshell.

Lilia’s grin widened as if the idea of spies delighted him. “Spies, you say? This is getting quite intriguing.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, no thanks. Squirrels are bad enough, but spies? I’m not dealing with this.”

Malleus turned towards you, a slight frown on his lips. “I assumed you wished to stay here. You haven’t mentioned wanting to leave before.”

You sighed, shrugging. “I mean, I don't have any attachments to this place. I stayed because you guys were here. But right now, let's bounce. Immediately. The squirrels can have this place.”

Silver, rubbing his eyes, nodded. “They're right. It’s a lot of hassle, and honestly, the squirrels are starting to weird me out. I saw one trying to chew through the wall this morning.”

Sebek turned to Silver with his mouth agape. “A SQUIRREL DARED TO ATTACK OUR DOMAIN?!”

Lilia chuckled, nodding. “They’re getting bolder, indeed. I even had one throw an acorn at me this morning. It was a declaration of war, I tell you.”

You waved your hands at them. “Guys, seriously. I don’t care if we’re at war with the squirrels. I just don’t want to be here. Briar Valley sounds much nicer, doesn’t it? No plagues, no spy accusations, no rabid rodents.”

Malleus blinked at you, then slowly smiled. “If you wish to leave, then there’s no reason for us to stay. I thought perhaps you'd not want to leave the place you grew up in, that you would be attached.”

“Attached?” You gestured dramatically at the window, where you swore you could see a squirrel watching with beady little eyes. “Nope. I’m only attached to you four, and I’m not risking my life for some acorn-flinging rodents.”

Silver yawned, already giving in. “I say we go. Less hassle, more sleep.”

Lilia gave a theatrical sigh leaning on Malleus. “Well, I suppose the adventure ends here. Back to Briar Valley it is! And I’ll be sure to bring along some acorns... perhaps we can keep the spirit of battle alive.”

Sebek, his voice still full of misplaced enthusiasm, nodded fiercely. “IF MY LORD DECIDES TO RETURN, THEN I SHALL ENSURE OUR JOURNEY IS WITHOUT PERIL! THE SQUIRRELS SHALL NOT—”

You interrupted with a grin. “Yes, yes, Sebek. You’ll protect us from the squirrels. Good job.”

Lilia hopped off Malleus’s chair, already halfway to the door. “I’ll go prepare the portal. Who knows, maybe we can get there in time for the fireflies.”

You got up too, stretching and giving one last look at the living room. “I think I’ve had enough of prophecies, plagues, and espionage.”

Lilia grins "Maybe we could have our wedding in Briar Valley". Malleus, now entirely on board, nodded with regal finality. “Then we shall return to Briar Valley. I trust the squirrels will not miss us.”

Lilia snickered, and you felt him squeeze your shoulder. “Perhaps we should bring a souvenir,” he mused. “A squirrel, perhaps, as a reminder of this peculiar little chapter of our lives.”

You shook your head, laughing. “I think I’d rather forget it altogether.”

With that, you and your four favorite Briar Valley residents left—leaving behind the squirrels, the spies, and every bit of drama that had nothing to do with you. Peace, it turned out, was just a portal away.

With that, the group made their decision—no heroic stand against the prophecy, no attempts to sort out spy dramas. Just a swift, sensible retreat to where things were far less complicated. And honestly? That suited you just fine.

Alright! I liked writing this a lot, It's not as chaotic as my other isekai ones but I like how it turned out!

Also if the formatting is off, I'm so sorry but I fell spectacularly on my ass while ice-skating and can't sit long enough to edit on my laptop.

Also quick poll for the next trash novel one, I'll definitely finish all of them, this is just for which one should I post first. They're all almost done.

Series Masterlist ; My Masterlists

[no-144444]

prince charming- l.norris

summary: lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

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Another show finished, another day done. All you had to do was meet some children and show them around the stage. It was a thing the company had decided to do after every single show, and you were one of the only ballerinas who enjoyed it. Everyone else ran out of there as fast as they could, but you stayed around, in full costume, showing them everything. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Look!” Mila, the little girl that had been assigned to you pulled on your hand and you followed her over. “It’s your Prince Charming!” She pointed at your co-star, Richard, who was playing Prince Charming while you played Cinderella. He was lovely and one of your best friends, but Mila’s face fell when she saw him kiss another girl, aka his actual girlfriend Mia. “He’s kissing someone else!” she gasped, looking at you hurt. 

You smiled. “We’re only together in the show, remember? My name isn’t Cinderella, is it?” You chuckled and she nodded, laughing. “So, that’s Richard, and he’s Mia’s real-life Prince Charming, not mine.”

She nodded understandingly. “Do you have a Prince Charming?”

You internally cringed, why did kids always want to know about your love-life? “No,” you smiled. 

Her face lit up. “OH! Perfect! Uncle Lala!” she called for her uncle to come over as your face fell. “Uncle Lala will you be Y/n’s Prince Charming so she can be my Auntie and we can have fun forever?!” 

Mila’s excited face and the ridiculousness of her statement, reminding him she truly didn’t know how the world worked, made him giggle. And with Lando, when he starts, he doesn’t stop. It took a whole minute for him to stop laughing, while you sat there awkwardly. You knew who he was, you knew why he was laughing, but it was still rude. Just say no, dude. 

“Mila, it doesn’t work like that,” he explained. “She’s way too pretty for me,” he whispered, sitting down beside her, and in front of you. 

Your eyes widened and you looked down, confused at the entire situation. 

“I know she is,” Mila answered (subtle dig at her uncle, but alright). “But you could ask her to dance or something. Princesses like dancing.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”

“Why do you just try talking to her!” Mila scoffed, then ran off to go look at some of the set of the show. 

You looked up and met his eyes and you both started laughing. “I’m so sorry about her, she gets like this sometimes,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s alright, it happens sometimes,” you waved him off, an easy smile on your face. 

“You get hit on through people’s nieces a lot?” he questioned. 

You chuckled. “It’s more common than you think, people love the ballerina shtick.”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” you answered. “And I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Lando,” he held his hand out to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

“NIce to meet you too,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Congratulations on the year you’ve had.”

“You watch F1?”

You nodded. “My mom has been into it since she was a kid, she gave that to me, so… yeah.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Nico Hulkenberg,” you smirked. 

He chuckled. “Understandable,” he smiled, nodding. “Mila is probably off somewhere trying to destroy your set, I should probably go grab her.”

You both got up and smiled at each other. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Prince Charming,” you joked, he giggled. 

And that was that. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

For the next few days, Lando could not get you out of his head. You were funny, kind, beautiful, good with Mila, everything he wanted in a person, yet he’d let you slip away. You weren’t even on social media, but he followed the company’s instagram and some of your friends to see pictures of you. He decided, once the season ended, he’d go back and find you. Maybe he really could become your Prince Charming. 

He joined the rest of the crowd in their standing ovation as you bowed, smiling brightly. He waited around and followed a few more people backstage to finally see you again. 

“Lando?” you questioned as you looked at him from behind. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he shrugged. “Happy holidays.”

You smiled. “So it is true,” your eyes shone with a hint of mischief. “You did follow the company account.”

He screwed his face up in a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d been caught. “You don’t have a public account, thought it would be weird to follow you on your private one.”

You chuckled. “I would’ve let you follow me,” you told him. “You are my Prince Charming, right?”

He beamed. “Right,” he nodded. “Dinner?”

“Let me get out of costume,” you agreed. You started to walk off and he didn’t follow, unsure what to do. You turned back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

He was very happy he had brought Mila to the ballet.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[darkacua]

The Cain instinct

I demand canon moments where Silver and Malleus treat each other like siblings whenever they're alone, especially if Lilia or Sebek aren't around them. Where they show that outside of their typical treatment of respect is the fact that they were raised by the same man whom they both consider their father. They love each other eternally, they would kill, they would die and they are capable of destroying the entire world for each other, one to a greater extent than the other.

Especially since I'm sure they both have ridiculously strong Cain instincts.

One day you are a prince taking care of your caregiver's adopted son and the next a being who lives in an eternal circle of revenge and destruction towards the cruelty of humanity (Silver bit his finger when he was 8 years old and Malleus pecked his eye in Consequently, they continue to blame each other whenever they can)

Imagine a Silver who fell asleep in the forest and Malleus just finds him. If Lilia, Sebek or anyone was near him he would feign complete concern and take him to his bedroom. But he's alone, so he's going to wake up the young man he considers his brother with a loving kick in the ribs (nothing too hard, he wants to bother him, not kill him).

Or a malleus who is simply reading and out of nowhere feels a wet finger in his ear, a finger that belongs to a 17-year-old with a smile too kind for someone who has just drooled in the ear of the next king of the Briar Valley , and someone who is also a coward since he runs away the moment the older man gets up from his seat.

It is better if neither of them knows what is happening, they just know that there are days when they have to be mean to the other or they will go crazy, they have accepted it as a royal decree and will continue it until the end of their days. .

Imagine that no one knows about this kind of treatment, until someone enters Diasomnia only to find the all-powerful Malleus Draconia screaming like a dying child because Silver has him in a wrestling hold (which it is very obvious he can get out of, but… Where's the fun in that?)

Anyway, I need an irrational Malleus and Silver being a shitty little brother. I leave my delusions here.

a small second part

Español bajo el corte

Exigo momentos canónicos donde Silver y Malleus se tratan como hermanos cada vez que están solos, sobre todo si no están Lilia o Sebek a su alrededor. Donde muestren que por fuera de su típico trato de respeto está el hecho de que fueron criados por el mismo hombre al que ambos consideran su padre. Se aman eternamente, matarían, morirían y son capaces de destruir el mundo entero el uno por el otro, uno en mayor medida que el otro.

Sobre todo porque estoy segura que los dos tienen un instinto de Cain ridículamente fuerte.

Un dia eres un príncipe cuidando al hijo adoptivo de tu cuidador y al siguiente un ser que vive en un círculo eterno de venganza y destrucción hacia la crueldad de la humanidad (Silver le mordió un dedo cuando tenía 8 años y Malleus le pico un ojo en consecuencia, se lo siguen echando en cara cada que pueden entre ellos)

Imaginen a un Silver que se quedó dormido en el bosque y Malleus simplemente lo encuentra. Si Lilia, Sebek o cualquiera estuviera cerca fingiría completa preocupación y lo llevaría a su dormitorio. Pero esta solo, así que va a despertar a él joven que considera su hermano con una amorosa patada en las costillas (nada demasiado fuerte, quiere molestarlo no matarlo)

O a un malleus que simplemente está leyendo y de la nada siente un dedo húmedo en su oreja, un dedo que pertenece a un joven de 17 años con una sonrisa demasiado amable para alguien que acaba de babear el oído del próximo rey del Valle de Briar, y alguien que también es un cobarde ya que sale corriendo en el momento que él mayor se levante de su asiento.

Es mejor si ninguno de los dos sabe que es lo que pasa, solo saben que hay días en los que tienen que ser malos con el otro o se volverán locos, lo han aceptado como un decreto real y lo continuarán hasta el final de sus días.

Imaginen que nadie sabe de este tipo de trato, hasta que alguien entra a Diasomnia sólo para encontrar al todopoderoso Malleus Draconia gritando como un niña moribunda porque Silver lo tiene en una llave de lucha (de la cual es muy obvio que se puede zafar ¿pero dónde está lo divertido en eso?).

En fin, necesito un Malleus irracional y un Silver siendo un hermano menor de mierda. Hasta aquí dejo mis delirios.

[bluelockmaniac]

👑 .𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

ft. crown prince!itoshi sae x commoner!femreader x second prince!itoshi rin (only bc you are rin's fiancée)

🗡 synopsis. you were chosen to be the second prince’s fiancée for rin’s convenience, but fate had different plans when you fell for his older brother, the crown prince, instead. as you start hearing strange voices during your engagement ball, sae falls victim to alexis’ curse, which only your love can break. what happens when news spread of the crown prince's revival and rin finds out?

⛓ content warning. 13.3k (yikes)ノ royal au ノ classism ノ cheating themes & pdaノ⚠ rin is rude, offensive, & insulting ノ your parents & sis for plot are assholes ノ semi-arranged marriage (?) ノ reader is illiterate ノ narration heavy ノ reader gets called whore once ノ implied death & gorish description ノ implied stranglingノ animal murder ノ minimal implication of shorter readerノthe relationship with sae is highkey rushed now that i reread it.

notes. this took me two weeks+ to finish ahhh. i thank my past self for being obsessed with manhwas so muchh, and ty to rhymezone for saving my ass w/ the ancient poem. first time using capital letters when writing fanfics, only bc it's really long though, eeee.

In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon,

When Stars Align and Shadows Loom,

The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night,

By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.

But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,

Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,

With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,

To Bring the Order, End the Storm.

A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,

In the Embrace of a Simple Face.

But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,

For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” your father stammered, “M-My eldest daughter has fallen gravely ill, and I fear she physically cannot journey to the Grand Empire of Aquaria tomorrow!”

The king’s eyes flared open in shock as the words reached his ears. His grip on the plush armrest of his throne tightened, the baroque carvings digging into his palm.

“What?!” He yelled, dismissing the fan bearer with a sharp glare before rising from his throne and taking two steps forward. His shadow covered large over your father’s trembling figure. 

“She chooses now, of all times, to be stricken with sickness? At a crucial time for our kingdom? Such insolence!” He descended three more steps and glared down at him. “Did you forget that His Imperial Highness has specifically requested a lady from your clan?”

“I—”

The king struck his scepter harshly against the floor, silencing the man. “All the other houses of your garbage clan bore only sons,” he spat, “She will go, and that is final!”

“Actually…” the commoner’s lips pointed upwards in a well-rehearsed smile as he placed a hand over his heart in false politeness. “I have another daughter. She’s eager— eager to fulfill her duty. She is twenty, two years younger than the prince, but still of age.”

King Orion arched an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Very well,” he replied, waving his hand in disinterest as he returned to his throne. “Summon her.”

In truth, the king’s concern wasn’t with Aria, your older sister. He cared little for which daughter was offered up to Aquaria’s second prince. It was a political necessity, nothing more— a favour to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rin. Or more like a fulfillment of Rin’s rather odd request that came with a threat. As long as someone from your clan was presented, it mattered not to him whether it was your sister or some other sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.

At the call of your name, the guards creaked open the heavy doors, and you entered the throne chamber slowly. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered your body in a curtsey bow, your gaze fixed on the scarlet carpet that stretched beneath you.

“It is my greatest honour to stand before you, Your Majesty,” you said, though your indifferent tone made it clear to anyone listening that you longed for nothing more than to be anywhere but here.

But you knew the truth behind this charade. Aria wasn’t ill. She was the jewel of your parents’ eye, their pride and joy, shielded from the Empire’s gaze like a pirate’s precious treasure. You, on the other hand, were the forgotten one– the daughter they kept hidden, a mere shadow in their halls, easily discarded when it was convenient. To your father, you were a little more than a weight around his neck, an extra mouth to feed, a burden he was eager to rid himself of.

The king’s eyes scanned you up and down, his expression visibly souring as he took in the sight of your tattered ankle-high, brown dress and scuffed boots. Disgusting.

“Ugh,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on one elbow as he sneered at you. “She’ll do, I suppose. Pretty enough for their tastes.” He turned to his chancellor with a condescending wave. “Have the maids find something more… suitable for this one.”

The chancellor bowed deeply, “At once, Your Majesty.”

“Alright, you’ve packed everything, haven’t you?” your mother asked as she rubbed Aria’s shoulder comfortingly.

Your gaze drifted to the battered briefcase lying at your feet. You had stumbled upon it by accident, shoved into a forgotten corner of the dirty attic, coated in layers of dust and practically falling apart at the seams. With a sigh, you bent down to pick it up, nodding as it threatened to collapse.

“Yes,” you murmured, a bitter smile tugging at your lips, “There was hardly anything to pack, anyway.”

Your father scoffed, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Aria, who had begun to shed what you knew to be crocodile tears. The act was almost laughable. She suddenly broke free from their grasp and rushed over to you, flinging her arms around your waist with a dramatic sob.

“Y/N!” she cried, “Please take care of yourself– hic– I’m going to miss you so much!”

You hesitated for a moment before stiffly returning her hug. She was a liar, through and through, and you both knew it. 

Before the act could continue, the distant sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone paths captured your attention. Gently, you pried yourself away from her clutches, turning toward the approaching sound.

Your breath hitched. The Empire’s Royal Carriage was quickly nearing, and it was no exaggeration to say that its massive size dwarfed everything coming its way. It was magnificent, its gleaming white exterior and elegant navy blue designs that were above the huge clattering wheels. Silken curtains furnished the windows, embroidered with golden threads that caught the eyes of your greedy family. But what truly stole your attention was the shining silver crown perched atop the carriage, with Aquaria’s Royal Crest.

“Listen–” your father’s obnoxious voice cut through your admiration. He leaned close, his voice coming out in a hiss, “You better behave yourself, got it? If you mess this up, it’s not just you– it’s all of us. Understand?”

You shrugged off his threat with a nonchalant nod, “I’ll do my best.”

The sounds of the porcelain horses neighing were suddenly right behind you. They looked so soft, so immaculate, that you had to resist the urge to reach out and glide your fingers through their carefully groomed manes. But you knew better. This was no place for such frivolities.

The royal coachman descended from his designated seat and approached you. His right hand gracefully flew to his heart and he bowed slightly, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

“Greetings, my lady,” he said, straightening himself elegantly as his brown eyes met yours. He took your worn briefcase from your hand and placed it gently in the carriage’s wide storage compartment in the back. Then, he slid aside the long curtains and extended his hand toward you.

This was it. The moment you stepped into that carriage, you would leave this wretched life behind forever. No more grime, no more being hidden away like some shameful secret. You would be free– or at least you clung to the hope of freedom. 

Taking the coachman’s hand, you felt the fine material of your simple sage gown– one begrudgingly gifted by King Orion– brush against the spotless steps of the carriage. You could hardly believe you, of all people, had the privilege of entering something so grand, so expensive.

For one last time, you glanced back at your so-called family. They stood there, masks with feigned expressions of sorrow worn over their faces. But you weren’t fooled, and you certainly weren’t going to indulge them. Instead, a slow grin crept across your face and you mouthed a few words that served as a final act of defiance.

“Shitty lives for shitty people, I guess.”

“.... lady,”

“My….”

“My lady!”

“Hm…” You muttered drowsily, your eyelids slowly fluttering open to the sight of the coachman and several other servants peering in at you with concerned expressions. Startled, you shot upright, your hands grasping the seat beneath you. “Y-Yes!”

So far, you were off to a great start.

But now, as you finally stepped out of the carriage and beheld the regal palace before you, every bit of exhaustion from the long ride seemed to dissolve. The sight of it stole your breath and you tried to conjure up a word to describe it, but words escaped you. Beautiful, perhaps, though even that felt insufficient. Magnificent, maybe. 

There were towering stone sculptures and a large marble fountain in the center, its water elegantly cascading down like it was raining crystals. The front lawn was meticulously trimmed and maintained till perfection. The walls of the palace shined, built from pale limestone that you recognized from years of working with fire and sedimentary rocks. And at the peak of the palace dome, a lone flag fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Royal Crest of Aquaria.

Your home now.

Yet, no lines of maids awaited your arrival at the main entrance, as you’d always imagined from reading those fairytale books you’d find tucked away in your attic. And there was certainly no sign of your supposed fiancé— His Imperial Highness, Itoshi Rin, the Second Prince of the Empire.

But then again, it made sense. You were just a humble village girl, after all— hardly worth the attention of someone as important as him.

The sudden neighing of a horse behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around. There, your gaze locked with the prettiest set of eyes you had ever seen— legendary teal irises framed by lashes so thick they casted a shadow on his cheekbones.

If the palace was magnificent, then he was simply breathtaking. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you instinctively took a step forward toward him, prepared to pinch fistfuls of your dress and bow down to him. 

He must be your fiancé, you thought. How could he not be? Those eyes were a symbol of royalty. His dark, reddish hair swayed with every blow of the wind, and the way an exquisite sapphire brooch shone against his royal attire screamed authority.

What did they call this phenomenon? Love at first sight? But then—

“Welcome back, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince!” a unified set of voices suddenly echoed from behind you in greeting, and you whipped your head back to see every servant and the carriage driver on their knees, their heads bowed low, and their hands clutched to their chests.

Crown Prince? Your breath caught in your throat. The Crown Prince? In other words, the future Emperor of Aquaria?

His gaze left yours to briefly sweep over the kneeling palace workers, before he waved his hand dismissively. “Rise.” he ordered. His deep voice made you feel a sudden tightening in your throat, and you had the urge to obey though you weren’t even on your knees.

When his eyes returned to you, you flinched, every nerve of your body feeling on edge. You drew in a sufficient amount of fresh air and held onto bunches of your gown, bowing respectfully.

“G-Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” you stuttered.

Sae guided his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the saddle, dismounting and landing on the grass smoothly. He gave the mare a gentle pat, and you suddenly felt conscious as he approached you in long strides.

He stopped just in front of you, eyes seemingly studying you. “You are?”

You swallowed nervously, daring to meet his aquamarine gaze. “Y/N,” you said softly, “The Second Imperial Prince’s fiancée.”

His eyes narrowed and he closed them fleetingly before opening them again. “I see… That foolish younger brother of mine.”

You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Your sparkling eyes flickered to his mare standing patiently beside him for a moment too long. Her coat was as white as fresh snow, and it almost hurt your eyes the way the sunlight reflected off her.

He noticed. “Oh, her?” He nodded toward the horse, gesturing for you to come closer. “Go on. You can touch her if you wish.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, trodding towards him in excitement. “May I, really?”

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered nonchalantly, though his gaze softened slightly. He was more focused on observing the horse’s reaction to you.

With careful hands, you reached out and gently raked your fingers through her silky mane. A delighted giggle escaped your lips as the fauna neighed softly and nudged your hand for more of your kind attention.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, and he hummed in interest. You paused for a moment, glancing at the prince curiously. “What’s her name?”

“Celestia,” he replied, pulling on the horse’s rein before folding his arms over his chest. He watched you interact with the animal. “She rarely warms up to anyone, but it seems as if she likes you.”

Your eyes lit up with surprise and you smiled, your fingers still tangled in the horse’s mane. “Celestia is a beautiful name… It suits her. She’s as white as the moon.”

For a brief moment, the prince turned his head to the side, as if he was hiding something from your view. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d trust anyone his beautiful horse liked. His fingers slipped through his tousled red hair, and though his voice slightly carried a tone of arrogance, it was also laced with something else. “Tch. Thanks. I named her myself.”

You laughed lightly, “How old is she?”

“Turning nine soon,” he answered, giving her a pat. “She’s the mother of a black stallion.”

Your eyes twinkled in awe, fists clenched in front of you as you beamed up at him. “She’s a mother?!”

Sae raised a brow, leaning back slightly. “You’re standing too close.”

“A-Ah, my apologies, Your Highness,” You stuttered, retreating several steps just in case. “I… I seem to have forgotten my place,”

“No, it’s quite alr—” He started, lifting a hand as if to stop you from backing away, but was interrupted by one of the pesky servants from Rin’s wing of the palace. “...”

“I-I apologize for interrupting y-your conversation, Your Imperial Highness,” She panted, bowing low, “But The Second Prince has requested his fiancée’s presence for a private audience.”

Sae clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he mounted Celestia. “I guess it cannot be helped. Fine, whatever.”

Your heart sank slightly, a wave of disappointment looming over your ethereal features. Your pretty eyes downcast and fists clenched lightly by your sides. You had hoped to stay just a little longer, either with the man you had mistaken for your fiancé or perhaps with the beautiful horse. You weren’t sure which had captured your fascination more.

You thought that, perhaps, if Rin was not unlike his brother, then marrying him probably wouldn’t be so bad.

Still, with a deep breath, you held onto your skirt and followed the maid. But just before you left, you glanced back over your shoulder at the First Prince with a smile so pretty it could coax the sun out of the sky and make even the stars envious.

“See you around, Your Highness!” You called out, waving your arm before turning around to trail after the servant woman.

Sae stood frozen for a heartbeat, his thoughts clouded by the ghost of that smile. Something stirred in his chest, something unfamiliar and probably unwelcome. He huffed quietly, silking his hand through his hair before muttering under his breath.

“Yeah… see you.”

Your heart raced as you stood before the polished double doors of Rin’s chamber. You swallowed hard in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your breaths came in shallow, like there was some sort of invisible weight pressed against your chest. 

Your hand hesitantly hovered mere inches from the door. You hadn’t even met the man and yet the tension was thicker than when you had personally greeted the crown prince.

The maid beside you fidgeted, clearly just as anxious. She stammered softly, “My lady…  j-just knock and wait for his word. I-I’ll take my leave now.”

You nodded, watching her scurry away so quickly as if she couldn’t wait to be out of the prince’s domain. You blinked in thought— if the servants in this wing were this jumpy around him, it didn’t bode well.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling fingers. After whispering a few reassurances to yourself, you finally raised your knuckles and knocked gently on the door.

No answer.

A few more seconds passed before you tried again, but this time you heard a deep, irritated voice call out.

“Enter.”

You gulped and planted your hands on the heavy door, pushing it open. The moment you stepped in, you held in your breath. The interior was extravagant beyond words– a room fit for royalty, as expected. 

Your enlarged eyes scanned the deluxe chamber, mouth unintentionally falling agape at all it held. But the awe immediately vanished as your gaze landed on Rin. The prince stood by a grand archtop window with his back to you, gazing down at the Aquaria Royal Gardens— which, to compare in size, were bigger than your whole village fit together.

He turned at the sound of your entrance, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing with a look of disdain. His voice was flat, yet annoyed. “Quit ogling and close the door behind you.”

It was an order, and you felt your body immediately move on its own. Your hands fumbled as you quickly shut the door, unable to keep the heat of embarrassment from rising to your cheeks. You lowered your gaze, focusing on the rosa aurora marble floor beneath you.

Rin’s eyes raked over you, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. His eyes were just as icy as his brother’s, but where Sae had a certain aloofness, Rin’s coldness felt like a blade to the throat. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you condescendingly, “No proper greeting?”

Your mind scrambled. “Ah..!” Your fingers gripped onto the fabric of your dress tightly as you bowed stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y-Your Imperial Highness,”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if the very sight of you was an inconvenience. “Horrible posture,” he muttered. “Your etiquette needs a lot of work.”

Your heart sank further, and humiliation washed over your whole face. You straightened up and pursed your lips together tightly, the words sticking to your throat like superglue, afraid that whatever you’d say next would only make matters worse.

He remained quiet and turned around, walking to the large seating area in the corner of his chamber. You hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat right beside him on the burgundy plush.

He eyed you sideways, clearly displeased. “...Really?”

“Um…” You shuffled your feet awkwardly, the fabric swishing against your ankles. “Sitting in front of you would be presumptuous of me… How dare I make eye contact with someone as great as you, given my position?”

He rolled his eyes at your words. “How audacious.”

“Oh— Your Highness, you’ve got an eyelash on your cheek,” You started, instinctively reaching out to brush it away. But before your fingers could make contact, his hand snapped out, roughly swatting yours away.

“Don’t fucking touch me, commoner scum.” He hissed.

You immediately withdrew, rubbing your stinging hand gently. You bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. “I apol—”

“Go sit in front.”

You obeyed without question, your body moving on autopilot as you rose from the sofa, taking a seat across from him. If you hadn’t the guts to defy your parents, what made you think you could defy a prince? You didn’t even have the strength to be angry; you were too preoccupied with trying to hold yourself together under his oppressive gaze.

What followed was more of an interrogation than a conversation.

“Can you read?”

“No.”

“Write?”

“No.”

“Table manners?”

“I eat with my hands.”

“... Can you do anything at all?”

Your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I can make really good vegetable soup...”

“...”

The silence stretched out, and you could feel your self-worth slowly becoming nonexistent. After a moment, he stood with a sigh, making you flinch. 

You averted your gaze to the window and you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor. You realized you were swallowing thick lumps of nothing more than usual. All his questions were glazed with layers of dripping haughtiness and it hurt when you realized how useless and worthless you were as you answered each one.

“No, this is good,” He assured, almost to himself, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt. You looked up at him, confused.

“Good?” You repeated softly.

Rin approached you with his shirt halfway undone. He stopped just in front of you, leaning down with an expression so intimidating it sent shivers sprinting down your spine. “Do you know why I chose someone as lowly and pathetic as you, peasant?”

You rubbed your clammy palms together and paused. “I think I might have an idea,” You whispered.

“Oh? Continue.”

“You want to win the public’s favour, perhaps?” you guessed carefully, “because it shows a connection to those of lower status…”

He raised a brow, “Hm. You’re smarter than you look.” He admitted.

But his next words made your blood run cold. His hands found your shoulders, his fingers gripping onto them with not much force as he leaned closer. Your gaze ashamedly darted down to his peeking sculpted chest before flicking up to his eyes.

“After I’ve become emperor instead of that shitty brother,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “you will bear my child. Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your whole body was trembling as soon as his hands left your shoulders. You could feel your teeth clattering slightly as you stared at the floor, unable to speak. You tilted your head up and watched as he slowly slid off an oval-cut sapphire ring, rimmed with shimmering stones of diamond, from his finger.

“Give me your hand,” He ordered impatiently.

You nodded immediately, extending your hand in front of him with starry eyes. Without a word, he slipped the opulent band onto your ring finger, careful not to make contact with your skin. You pulled away and admired the accessory— you’d be set for a thousand lives if you sold this heavy thing.

“Thank you…” You smiled softly.

“This ring is a royal heirloom, along with one other,” He warned, pointing to the Crest engraved in the gemstone. “Do. Not. Lose. It.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the ring, nodding quickly, “Yes… I won’t.”

“Good. Now go. The maids will show you to your chambers. Be ready for your etiquette lessons tomorrow.”

You rose from the sofa shakily, bowing once more. The difference between this man and the one you’d met earlier was staggering, and you already had a not so vague idea on who you preferred.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Your Imperial Highness.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to open them. You blinked once, twice, three times– your vision blurred with remnants of sleep before gradually sharpening into clarity. But what you saw around you was anything but familiar. 

Gone were the days of waking up to dusty cobwebs and the cracks and crevices of a wrecked ceiling that you had grown used to. Instead, your eyes met a vast, polished quartz ceiling, glistening in the morning light. Above you was a fancy chandelier, its long golden-framed vines dripping with crystals, and glass trickled down from the hooks. 

You shifted beneath your plush cover and froze for a second, because this soft sensation was just as unfamiliar. No more prickly stacks of straw or thin, rough blankets. No, today, you had woken up in luxury.

As you sat up, memories of yesterday flooded your mind. Oh, right. You were absolutely shocked when you were first led to your room. You could say you were floored by its elegance– far larger and more lavish than any room you had imagined you’d get. Though it still paled in comparison to Rin’s personal quarters, it was hard to grasp that this space was your room.

You remembered indulging yourself in a little tour last night, exploring it in awe. There was a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with fine dresses and gowns of rich silks and satins. Accessories like cocktail hats, jewel-studded heels, and purses of gorgeous colours, all of which you couldn’t wait to try, filled the shelves.

The grandest thing you had ever owned prior to this was a ring made of a flower’s stem.

But as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your heart jumped as you realized someone was in the room, and you let out a small squeak, instinctively clutching the covers.

“So you’ve finally woken up, my lady,” came a gentle, slightly amused voice.

You blinked rapidly, your gaze locking onto a pair of soft amethyst eyes. The young woman standing beside you had ginger hair that fell to her shoulders in soft curls, her pale cheeks peppered with specks of pretty freckles.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked carefully.

The woman set a pair of fluffy cotton slippers on the floor beside your bed, then gave you a small curtsy. “Eleanor, my lady. I am your lady-in-waiting.”

You slid your feet into the slippers, still feeling a little dazed. Eleanor busied herself with smoothing the bed linens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Meaning..?” you echoed, sitting up straighter.

She chuckled lightly. “Meaning I’ll attend to your personal needs and assist you with your duties to make sure you are well taken care of.” She gave you a smile, “You’re new to all this, aren’t you?”

You looked down at the marble bashfully, nodding your head, and admitted softly, “Yes…”

“Haha, that’s quite alright. But let’s not waste anymore time! We have to get you ready for today!”

“... Huh?”

You were absolutely pampered.

The question constantly lingered— what had you done to deserve this? Probably nothing but you were thankful that you went in the stead of your older sister.

Just a short while ago, you had been treated to the greatest bath of your life, courtesy of Eleanor. She had insisted it was part of her duty as your lady-in-waiting, but it seriously felt like a ritual reserved for queens. She skillfully massaged your muscles and rubbed your scalp with rosewater serenade. And when her hands worked authentic vanilla lather across your skin, you smelled like a warm, freshly baked biscuit. An upgrade from your baths in the river.

Currently, you were seated on a leathered stool as Eleanor combed through your hair with care. The reflection in the mirror in front could leave you gushing over yourself for hours. Your gown was a waterfall of midnight blue silk with intricate silver embroidery. Your waist was still uncomfortable from the pressure of the tight corset, but the result was definitely worth it. 

A delicate web of pearls hung from around your neck, cool against your collarbone. You absentmindedly toyed with the silver tassel earrings as Eleanor finished adding the final sprinkle of silver glitter to your styled hair.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together to dust off the excess shimmer.

You smiled admiringly, turning your head left and right. “Thank you, Eleanor. I never thought I could look like this...”

You stood from the stool, walking towards the door before her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait, my lady!”

You turned, watching as she carefully presented a delicate box etched with faint leaf patterns. Nestled inside were a pristine pair of white fine lace gloves that were long enough to elegantly reach the elbows. 

“His Imperial Highness the Second Prince has ordered that you must wear these whenever you are with him,” She said quietly.

“Ah. Thanks.”

You understood. It was slightly disappointing that your fiancé would go to such lengths to avoid touching you. Was the prospect of touching you truly that distasteful to him? But you shrugged off the thought and removed your heirloom ring before sliding the gloves on. You put back the ring on top. It wasn’t everyday you got to wear something this refined. Perhaps it would be everyday from now on…

But then, the memory of Rin’s chilling words echoed through your mind. “Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your heart clenched and you shook your head. As long as you did as commanded, you were sure you’d be fine.

“Let’s go, Eleanor.”

Your body tensed under the penetrating gazes of the countless servants. Their stares followed you as you walked down the Main Hall of the right wing, heading towards the heart of the palace.

They weren’t even trying to hide their gossip. Why would they? Servants here were no ordinary peasants, they were people of the lowest class of nobility. Sons and daughters of Earls, Counts, Barons.

“His Highness must be smitten,” one maid said, “Just look at her dress!”

“Isn’t she from the slums?”

“And she wears the Royal Heirloom on her finger!”

“So, the rumours were true, then?”

“I heard she thought she'd be marrying the Crown Prince.”

“Pftt, That’s embarrassing.”

The hushed whispers suddenly quieted down to zero, and you assumed it was probably Eleanor’s doing because you could literally feel her piercing gaze though she was trailing respectfully behind you.

“It’s alright, Eleanor, leave them al—”

The words died in your throat the moment you caught sight of him– the man you first encountered when you arrived at the palace. He was exiting the Council Hall, deep in conversation with what looked like an advisor or high-ranking official. Your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively lifted the hem of your dress and rushed towards him.

“Your Highness!” you called out, your voice chirpier than you had intended.

He turned at the sound of your familiar voice, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise. For a fleeting moment, it seemed you had embodied the grace of a princess… had your heel not caught beneath you. You stumbled, eyes squeezing shut as you braced yourself for the fall. But instead of tasting the cold, hard floor, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you by your waist.

“Careful,” he warned softly, his hands lingering for just a moment before falling back to his sides. “You’re not used to heels.”

You laughed awkwardly, but you could not hide the disappointment that washed over your expression as his hands left you. “No, it’s my first time.”

He paused. His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer than they should, taking in the way your dress perfectly complimented your figure. But he realized this, and his gaze quickly shifted to the golden deer emblem mounted on the wall.

“You… look different,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

The hall suddenly felt hot, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from your face. You dipped your head, fiddling with your clad fingers. “Oh, do I…?” you sputtered softly, but you silently cursed yourself for replying in such an awkward manner. Of course you looked different!

“Ahem,” Eleanor chimed in, coughing into her fist dramatically. “Not to interrupt, but I hear some alarming footsteps…”

“If you slack off one more fucking time, I’ll display your decapitated head on a pike to serve as an example for your pathetic kind!” a voice yelled from behind.

Rin stepped out the Council Hall, his face an angry scowl as he finished lashing at the minister who scurried away like a frightened animal. His eyes then flickered towards you and his older brother, and his expression soured further.

He turned to look at your lady-in-waiting, speaking sternly. “I thought I told you to bring her to my study,”

“We were on our way, Your Imperial Highness,” Eleanor responded politely, bowing her head.

“Incompetent.”

Rin’s attention shifted to you, noticing the lacey white covering up to your elbows. Without warning, he inched forward and closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist. You tensed as his not unwelcome grip pulled you closer, your palm instinctively flying up to settle on his chest. You looked up at him gently, hesitantly, but his eyes weren’t on you– they were locked on his older brother.

He eyed his brother suspiciously, “What are you still doing here?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your trip to Berlina?” 

“Berlina…?” You repeated in confusion.

“The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic,” Eleanor quickly whispered into your ear, leaning in with her palm covering her mouth.

Sae’s expression remained indifferent, clearly unbothered. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on more important matters right now?” He let his eyes wander lazily towards your hand on Rin’s chest before he smirked. “Like… sharpening your embarrassingly inadequate swordsmanship skills?”

Rin’s face contorted in anger and his neck flushed a deep red. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you wince. “You bastard… You’ll regret this.” He seethed through clenched teeth. 

The Second Prince glanced back at Eleanor in disgust, “You’re dismissed.”

He looked back at you, noticing your extravagant dress, before furrowing his brows. “The dress you’re wearing is too fancy for a day with no important occasion.”

You glanced down at your blue gown and shrugged. “Eleanor chose it for me,”

“Who?”

“—I personally think it suits her just right.” Sae broke in suddenly, wearing a smirk on his face as though he found pleasure in annoying his younger brother.

Rin narrowed his eyes at him. “Who asked for your opinion? And what were you two talking about, anyway?”

The Crown Prince hummed, leaning against the wall behind him. “Let’s see. Well, I told her she looked different, and helped her up when she tripped on her heels.”

“Tch.”

“But be careful,” Sae’s lips twitched into a small grin, his gaze drifting to meet your eyes. “keep your eyes on this beauty else I might steal her from you. Isn’t that right, my lady?”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Your Highness, even if you joke around like that, I don’t think my heart can take it–” you whispered, and Sae chuckled lightly, though Rin quickly pulled you behind him.

“That’s enough, stay away from her.” He glared, barely affecting Sae. “Your little jokes aren’t funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” The eldest quipped nonchalantly, and Rin just rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go.” He exasperated, holding onto your wrist and dragging you alongside him.

As his hand guided you away, you looked over your shoulder, searching for a familiar pair of tourmaline eyes. Ones identical to those of your fiancé’s. But instead, all you saw was a broad back and auburn hair shifting as he walked away in the opposite direction.

Rin slammed his fist against the hardwood of his desk. That interaction seemed to have spilled gasoline to the blue flames in his eyes, which were already burning with rage. “That bastard thinks he can keep playing games with me!”

You remained still, hands folded patiently over your abdomen. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him further.

After a tense silence, Rin let out a sigh and collapsed into the plush seat behind his desk. “It’s alright,” he began, his voice softening just slightly. His gaze locked onto you in a way that made blood rush quicker through your veins. “You’re my ticket to becoming the emperor—” He leaned forward. “I need you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at those words, but you knew not to expect much. Still, you mustered a sweet smile. “I’ll do my best, Your Highness. You were mentioning today’s schedule…?”

He leaned back, propping his arm on the armrest. “Right. My father is holding our engagement ball next week. Every noble house will be there to congratulate us. In the week leading up to it, you will perfect your manners and court etiquette. Understood?”

You gulped hard as a huge bag of responsibility was suddenly thrown onto your back. A week? To not work on, but perfect everything?

“...Understood.”

—

“... After you master public speaking skills,” Rin went on, “you’ll focus on formal dining etiquette. I don’t want you embarrassing me by eating with your hands. Then, you’ll have dancing lessons and study Royal Dress standards. You also need to be familiar with Aquaria’s history, diplomacy, and customs– especially royal protocols and responsibilities, and….”

His voice continued on, listing task after task. Your head was spinning, and you thought you were going to faint and collapse to the ground. This wasn’t the fairytale you’d imagined. You signed up for the fun part of being a princess— the ballgowns and the makeup, and maybe kissing the prince. This was a chore, the kind that made growing carrots and potatoes seem like heaven in comparison.

“By the end of this week, I expect you to be flawless. I’ve brought in the best tutors for reading, writing, and everything else– all that easy stuff. Do not disappoint me.”

You nodded automatically, but not before adding an innocent thought that had slipped into your mind, in a slightly sarcastic manner. “Have you perfected your swordplay, though?”

Now the temperature in the room seemed to drop down to zero as he bore his narrowed eyes at you. You felt a cold shiver run up all your bones, and your knees weakened. “You think you’re funny don’t you? Do you really want to play this game with me?”

Your bravado crumbled. “N-No…”

“Then get some rest,” he ordered. “Your training starts this afternoon.”

You nodded and quietly turned to leave the study.

Six long days had passed by since your lessons began. Six mentally and physically exhausting days.

Your dance instructor was a strict middle aged lady with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, who worked you till your feet were bruised. She made you balance books and vases on top of your head as you marched back and forth, her shrill voice cutting you off whenever your posture was horrible, or when you mixed up the steps for a dance made for another song. Although you loathed her guts, you couldn’t deny the significant improvement of your poise.

The dinner etiquette lessons, however, offered a time-out from that hag. Yes, you learned the basics of formal dining– how to keep your elbows off the table, chew with your mouth closed, use the silver utensils correctly, and pat your lips clean with the patterned napkins. But, the best part, or reward, was tasting the delicacies they served. Truffles, lobster coated with butter, and tender lamb chops. And then there were the fancy desserts– macarons pumped with ganache filling, puff pastry, tartelette au citron, éclair au chocolat, and more.

All of which you had never dreamt of tasting in your life, you who had never tasted anything more luxurious than a loaf of bread.

You also learned how to read and write, not for the reasons you preferred, but good nonetheless. You had found a particular fondness for the history lessons, which were not tedious at all. You were focused at all times much to your mentor’s surprise. Learning about the Royal family’s reign— how they had ruled over neighboring lands for centuries, managing resources, trade, and finance— fascinated you.

But your ears always managed to tune in and pick up the subtle gossip rotating among the maids and servants in the halls and libraries, so you had learned a few things.

The two princes were locked in a one-sided rivalry. One was fighting crystal and pickaxe for the crown, while the true heir showed little interest in the throne he was destined to inherit.

Sae, the eldest, wasn’t just entitled to the crown by birthright. He excelled at everything– swordplay, defense, archery, and horseback riding for royal ceremonies or simple trips to cities. His skills were polished to literal perfection. Rin, on the other hand, was skilled, but not extraordinary. He always lived in the shadow of his brother.

Yet Rin’s desire to become emperor wasn’t merely a wish— it was a burning, desperate need, an ambition to prove himself worthy. To finally win against Sae.

Killing his brother, of course, was out of the question— such an act would be treason. Besides, Rin didn’t just want him gone; he wanted Sae to see the moment when he ascended the throne, to admit defeat, to acknowledge that Rin had bested him.

Rin believed that the key to winning favour with their father—the current emperor—and the people was to flaunt his achievements, which, to remention, were not as good as Sae’s. But his sharp tongue and cold demeanor made it difficult for him to win many hearts. Sae learned to place a mask behind his foul words, whereas Rin still struggled to.

And that’s where you came into the picture.

You weren’t just his fiancée; you were part of his strategy. He’ll show you off before the court and the public, showcasing to the world how he transformed a mere commoner, a peasant, into someone of worth. 

You came from a disgusting, needy village, yet now you stood in royal fits. To Rin, you were a symbol showing his ability to elevate those beneath him. A tool to gain the favour of the people. You could read and write now, you were beautiful, and in the eyes of the kingdom, you had the potential to become the empress one day— if, of course, Rin managed to seize the crown from his brother.

—

It was late at night, and the moon’s natural light filtered through your curtains. You moved to your huge window and brushed aside the rosegold-embroidered fabric as you peered down at the Royal Gardens. The view was similar to that of Rin’s, since your chambers were three spare rooms away from each other.

You were exhausted, but you always had time to admire the water spilling down elegantly from the angel sculptures’ stone lips, or the beautiful shrubs clipped into topiaries. 

But all the exhaustion you felt moments ago suddenly vanished when your eyes caught sight of someone unexpected. 

It was the Crown Prince. You had seen Sae around the palace during these tiring six days, and you’ve engaged in many small talks with him without Rin’s knowledge. Conversations flew naturally with him, he asked you about your life before the engagement, and though you were initially hesitant, you found yourself speaking openly with him. There was a strange ease to Sae that, oddly enough, only you seemed to feel.

You stared at him a bit too long, your gaze almost boring a hole into him, and he sensed it.

Pivoting on his heel, he made direct eye contact with you from below. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you hurriedly pulled the curtain closed. But he could still see your silhouette, and when you peeked your head out slightly from the curtain, you could’ve sworn you’d seen him chuckle.

With a quick gesture of his hand, he beckoned you down to the gardens. Your pretty eyes widened, but you found yourself nodding eagerly with no hesitation. How could you refuse?

—

Panting softly between giggles, you rested your hands on your knees.

“I can’t believe you ran to meet me in your… nightgown,” Sae remarked, his lips curving into a subtle smirk.

You straightened and boldly stepped closer until you were only centimeters away from him. Your eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and you shone a smile brighter than la lune. 

Sae’s breath caught in his throat as your face came full view and he felt his body still. You were Rin’s fiancée– he shouldn't be looking at you like this. But the glow of moonlight was making it hard…

“... You’re beautiful,” the words slipped out naturally.

Heat flooded the sweet curves of your cheeks at the way he said it so casually, so suddenly. Your gaze dropped to the freshly cut grass, your fingers nervously tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, your voice barely above a hush.

Silence followed. But comfortable, nonetheless. Then, you noticed his hand, palm up and waiting in front of you. You blinked up at him in confusion.

“I am aware that I am in no position to do this, but…” He paused, “May I have this dance?”

Your eyebrows shot up comically in surprise, glistening doe eyes widening for the hundredth time tonight. Your heart was thumping so fast you thought it might burst from your chest, and you feared he might hear it.

It was risky, you knew that. If Rin were awake, he might have been watching from his window– his chambers were so close to yours. You knew how much he enjoyed looking from his window from the time you’ve spent together in the past week. But, he had dismissed you earlier to rest and this moment alone with Sae was tempting.

Hesitantly, your hand hovered over his before relaxing and letting it fall in his grasp. You met his gaze, and you shyly whispered, 

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this… but I want to.” Your fingers intertwined with his, and you smiled softly. “May I have this honour, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince?”

Sae glanced down at your hand weaved between his fingers. His brows furrowed in a frown, and a wave of panic washed over you. You literally felt your heart leap out of your chest. Had you overstepped your boundaries?

“I was only kidd—”

But instead of pulling away, he gently hooked his finger under the wristband of your glove, sliding it off your hand. You felt warmth bloom across your cheeks as he slowly removed the other glove too, making sure to leave his touch lingering on your bare skin.

“You don’t need to wear these ridiculous gloves to bed,” he said, “It’s unnecessary.”

Your cœur fluttered. “I… I just forgot,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile as he clasped your now bare hand, while the other found its place on your waist. The fabric of your silk nightgown was thin, and his touch felt intimate, direct, and you could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin.

He led you in a slow dance gracefully under the protective gaze of the serene moon, delicately spinning you before your arms naturally draped around his neck. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He looked so good, he smelled so good, his touch so gentle. You wanted him.

“Do you like these gardens?” He asked suddenly, giving you another twirl.

You nodded, lacing your fingers in his. “I do. It’s quiet. The palace can be… overwhelming.”

Sae raised a brow, “Overwhelming, huh? For someone like you, I suppose it would be.”

The words stung slightly, but there was no malice in his voice. You dared to meet the eyes you came to adore, “And you? Why are you here, Your Highness?”

He paused, then turned slightly. “I’m avoiding another council meeting. You’d be surprised how tedious it can be listening to old men argue for hours on end.”

You laughed softly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. He pointed toward a part of the garden in the distance. “Come with me,” he said simply. 

You followed, trembling as the Crown Prince led you with his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. When you came to a stop, your breath caught in awe. Before you were roses of every shade– deep crimson, soft peach, porcelain white, and candy pink.

“They’re gorgeous,” you gasped.

“Right.” Sae bent down and plucked a single red rose from the bush, turning to you with a small, rare smile. “The red ones are my favorite,” he murmured, carefully tucking the rose into your hair.

You smiled sheepishly, gently patting the rose he’d placed. “They remind me of strawberry ja—”

“They remind me of blood,” he interrupted with a casual voice.

You blinked, startled by his answer. “R-Right.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the area around his neck. “I can see why Rin chose you.”

You looked at him for a few seconds before quickly shaking your head. “He didn’t choose me, he just wanted any girl from our clan. My older sister was supposed to go, but I went in her stead. Besides, I’m nothing special… just convenient.”

“Convenient?” His gaze darkened slightly before his hand came up to rest on your chin. “...Don’t sell yourself short. You’re more than that.”

Your head quickly tilted down and you began to fiddle with your fingers, then with the simple lace adorning your neck. “Your Highness– stop saying things that make my heart, I don’t know, hurt?”

“Oh?” He placed his hands gently on your cheeks and you looked up at him lovingly. “That isn’t good for Rin, is it?”

You shook your head, “No, it isn’t. But he doesn’t make me feel this way.” You boldly placed your palms on his shoulders and stood on your tippy toes, and as soon as he leaned down slightly in approval, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. His heart was beating a bit quicker, and he found it dangerous. “Well, I’m afraid I must leave now.” He drawled.

Your heart sank a little, your ethereal eyes flicking down. You nodded slowly, “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”

He looked down at you, his expression softening. Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”

If he couldn’t hear your heart thundering in your chest one thousand miles per hour moments ago, then he sure could now. As he disappeared, you placed your hand over your chest, rubbing over the spot where he’d kissed.

It seemed like Sae had yet again bested Rin in a game neither had realized they were playing.

Tonight was your engagement ball, the grand celebration that would officially announce your impending marriage to Rin.

You were both in his chamber, dressed fully in fancy outfits. He wore an elegant white attire adorned with the brooch of Aquaria and a navy blue sash draped across his chest. You wore a pitch black gown embroidered with gold, matching gloves, and heavy golden jewelry that Rin had exclusively bought for you. 

The party had already begun downstairs, the grand ballroom filled with the most important guests from across the empire. But the grand entrance of the soon-to-be bride and groom had to wait for the Emperor’s speech, set to occur an hour after the festivities commenced.

“It’s a lunar eclipse,” you mused admiringly, leaning against the window. The moon, bloody red from the umbra, hung in the night sky ominously. “I’ve read about the phenomenon in the Royal Library. The stars look so close… they look like they could fall right into our hands.”

Rin rolled his eyes and walked closer to you, resting his hand on your further shoulder. He stared out the window in boredom. “How poetic,” he muttered sarcastically. “Even the moon is congratulating us tonight.”

You turned your gaze from the sky to him, your hand gently smoothing out a small wrinkle on his sash. “It’s time, isn’t it? We should head to the Ballroom.”

He grumbled in response, pushing your hand aside as if your touch was unnecessary. 

The intricate grandfather clock suddenly chimed loudly. Midnight had arrived.

Tick.

“In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon…”

Tick.

“When Stars Align and Shadows Loom…”

Tick.

A strange voice seemed to rise from nowhere. You flinched visibly, a shiver creeping up your spine as the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You quickly found Rin’s hand and grasped it tightly. 

“D-Did you hear that?” You shuddered, voice trembling.

He raised an eyebrow. “Hear what? You’re imagining things.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No… I swear, I heard something– like a voice. It was…”

He scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. “It’s just the clock ticking. Don’t start getting all nervous on me now.” His grip tightened around your hand, but you doubted it was for your comfort. “You’re going to be on your best performance for me, Got it?”

You hesitantly nodded, your gaze lingering on the moon for a few more seconds. The red, eerie glow still haunted your thoughts. You reluctantly turned away, looping your arm through Rin’s to exit the chamber and enter the grandeur.

“Yes…”

“And I want to thank you all once more for attending tonight’s ball,” The Emperor’s proclamation boomed from behind the closed doors. The attention of every soul present was on him. “I would now like to announce the formal entry of The Second Prince of Aquaria, and his fiancée, a soon-to-be princess, Y/N!”

The large doors, decorated with orchids and bloody red roses, parted dramatically to reveal you and Rin hand in hand. The Royal Guards on each side immediately stiffened and raised gloved hands to their head in salute. 

The aristocrats hushed immediately and their eyes followed as you both stepped onto the red carpet, descending the grand staircase and heading towards the two thrones.

You halted just below the steps of the thrones, immediately lowering your head in a bow of respect alongside Rin.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesties,” you murmured, lifting your head as you learned to.

“... Thank you, Father, Mother,” Rin’s voice followed formally.

Your gaze shifted towards the Empress. You particularly loved her as her lovely crimson hair always seemed to remind you of Sae. Oh, speaking of the Crown Prince, where was he? You hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet. 

You turned your head, eyes subtly scanning the room in search of a distinct redhead. And in the corner of your eye, you found him leaning casually against a balcony pillar, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed.

Your gaze softened at the sight of him before refocusing on the mob of aristocratic ladies and noblemen that had rushed to circle your betrothed as soon as the Imperial Greetings were over. They approached and offered smiles under snobby and vexing expressions, backhanded compliments under the guise of praise.

“Such a refreshing choice, Your Imperial Highness!” A brunette lady gibed, fanning herself with an elegant fan as she slyly smirked, “You’ve truly outdone us all in… originality.”

A Lord chuckled beside her, his laugh insufferably pompous. “I must say, Your Highness, I certainly admire you embracing such humble roots! A prince of the people! Ho ho ho!”

“I’m glad we have such a reliable prince who values all his subjects equally!”

“It is odd that His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince hasn’t found a lady yet.” One brought up.

An Earl added, “That’s true. He’s supposed to step up to the throne sooner or later. He needs an heir once he becomes Emperor.”

You squeezed Rin’s hand discreetly as he bit his lip in frustration at the mention of his brother. He needed to restrain himself at least this one time. 

“I appreciate your sentiments–” he began, but faltered for a split second. “No I fucking don—” You squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle nudge, and he cleared his throat. “Your support is reassuring,” he finished with a strained smile.

As your fiancé continued chatting with the backhanded nobles, your attention kept drifting towards Sae, stealing quick glances every now and then. He had begun conversing with a group of higher officials and ministers, likely discussing Berlina, The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic that he had frequented many times to strengthen the Empire’s growing alliances.

Loud enchanting music began to play from the orchestra and many already established couples began to dance in the center. Expensive and rare gifts began to pile at your feet, congratulatory offerings from various guests. Rin accepted them indifferently and reluctantly offered his thanks with as much enthusiasm as the stone sculptures that lined the ballroom.

“This jewel was found in the Ancient land of Topion and is thought to bring good fortune!”

“This exotic bird from Elakis produces gold everytime it sings!”

“This sword is forged by a legendary ghost smith whose body lives in the volcanic depths of Loo!”

You froze when Sae stepped forward as the next gifter, and it seemed like the entire room was also holding its breath. He approached, your widened eyes drifting down to the elegant box in his hand. He opened it, revealing an intricate necklace with shimmering, round pearls.

“An authentic pearl necklace crafted by the Merman Emperor of Eau.” Sae presented with his usual calm demeanor, making it hard to believe that he had spent days negotiating with the merman to create a necklace exclusively suitable for you.

Your mouth parted in surprise, and the words tumbled out. “Oh– thank you! It’s… beautiful.”

Rin rolled his eyes, gently fisting your hair and lifting it to expose your neck. “You didn’t have to do that,” He hissed through gritted teeth, looking at Sae with teal eyes that crinkled in hate.

Sae met his brother’s glare with a simple hum, fastening the beaded necklace around your neck. You bit your lip tightly as his touch lingered on your skin, looking down at the pearls that beautifully settled against your collarbone. “That would be disrespectful to you both, I’m afraid,” He said. “Even Our Father, the Emperor, has offered her pleasantries.”

Rin clicked his tongue and looked back at you, wrapping his arm possessively around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, catching you by surprise. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at the gesture.

“Come on, darling,” Rin emphasized as he spat out the term of endearment, though he internally cringed and wanted the ballroom to rupture and swallow him whole. The pet name left a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. “It’s time for our dance.”

You nodded, your lips parting to speak, but, “Of course, Your High—”

“The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night…”

That haunting voice again. Your ears were ringing. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut and froze in your tracks.

“...By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.”

“I-It’s the voice again!” You whimpered, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound. “I hear it!”

Rin scoffed loudly, glancing left and right at the guests who were exchanging confused looks. Sae, on the other hand, seemed out of it, with half-closed, bleary eyes.

“Quit it, you fool!” Rin cursed in annoyance, his patience snapping. He grabbed you by your shoulders and yanked you to his chest away from their judgemental gazes.

“Voice? I don’t hear anything,” a lady whispered.

“Neither do I,” someone else chimed in.

A voice snickered, “She said ‘again’.”

“His Imperial Highness must be marrying someone with auditory hallucinations.” The words stung as they left another noble’s mouth.

Then, in an instant, the ballroom plunged into darkness as the bright chandeliers went out. The ballroom was only illuminated by the glow of a large bolt of lightning, and a thunder rattled so violently it deafened you and shook the windows. When the bulbs flickered back on, a shrill lady’s voice pierced the silent room.

“T-The Crown Prince! He’s not moving!”

All eyes shot to Sae, who lay motionless and graceful on the floor, hand on top of hand. He looked calm, as though he was merely resting. 

You gasped in fear, hands flying to your mouth as you tried to stay balanced on your feet. Rin’s eyes in particular were the widest. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted to terror as everyone noticed the ink-blue vines creeping slowly up his neck, thorn designs wrapping themselves around his throat.

“T-That’s… Alexis’ Curse!” The Emperor panicked.

You had read about it. Alexis’ Curse—an ancient legend of a wizard scorned by love. His heart had been shattered by the daughter of a shoemaker, Michelle Kaiser, who had chosen her Earl lover over him. She always refused Alexis’ advances, and the gifts he’d always present. 

Enraged, Alexis had cursed the Earl, condemning him to a fate of eternal sleep unless the one he loved kissed him to break the spell. The curse wasn't one of eternal youth, however—the body continued to age, to decay, until there was nothing left but ugly bones. 

But because Alexis had disposed of his inked body in his tower, the Earl had died alone, Michelle never finding him.

The curse had become a myth, that Alexis’ wrath was aimed at those of high status, warning them of the dangers of meddling with those beneath them. 

But the nobles’ faces were literally drained of colour because what had once been myth was now terrifyingly real, before their very eyes.

It had been a few weeks since the disaster during your engagement party.

They had sealed Sae’s lifeless body deep in a chamber within the Main Palace’s basement. You attempted sneaking in multiple times, but you failed– the entry was heavily guarded and there was too much risk. And besides, if slipping past your lady-in-waiting wasn’t hard enough, Rin had become increasingly possessive as the possibility of being promoted to Crown Prince rose. That is if he was elected as so in the Royal Committee Meeting.

He was proud enough that he’d permit small acts of closeness– letting you remove your gloves when in his presence, even sharing his chamber. So, you would never risk waking him up while trying to sneak into the basement.

You recalled the aftermath of the disastrous ball vividly:

—

“I never knew he was so pathetic,” Rin sneered that night, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it at your throat and squeezing lightly. “Falling in love with you? A commoner? He must be out of his mind.”

He chuckled as he released you, pulling you into his chest.

“The whole Empire is so stupid. They think he fell in love with someone else. But it’s better this way.”

—

Yet despite Rin’s actions, your thoughts remained with Sae. You’d spent the weeks caring for Celestia, his white mare, as well as tending to Rin’s black stallion which he had never bothered to give a name to. You learned from the stable workers that Celestia was the mother of the charcoal horse.

Tonight, however, a once in a red moon opportunity presented itself. Your fiancé was away on royal business in Yelund, negotiating financial matters with their government in place of the Crown Prince. You took this chance, knowing it was the only one, and decided to sneak out.

You left your chamber, clutching a cage with a rat you’d found in the servants residence. You made your way through the darkened corridors until you reached the entrance of the basement. You hid yourself behind a large stone pillar and took a deep breath, tossing a small block of cheese across the room as a distraction. 

The guards were alarmed by the subtle noise and quickly whipped their heads and ran towards the sound. You bit your lip in concentration— everything was going according to your plan. You quickly released the rat from its cage, watching it scurry across the concrete, and silently slipped into the Royal basement. You sighed in relief as you heard a guard's voice.

“Oh, it’s just a rat. Guards, get back into position.”

—

You slid off your heels so that your bare feet barely made a sound as they grazed the stone steps of the staircase. The basement wasn’t very illuminated if not for the dim candles that hung on the wall, and the stench was not horrible as you thought it would be. Instead, it smelled like preserved jasmine.

You were at the last step when you put your hand on the concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.

At the bottom, in the center of the relatively smaller room, stood a rectangular crystal glass box. Inside it, Sae lay perfectly still. The sight of him made your gaze soften and your heart clench as if it was put in a meat slicer. His skin was pale, but it was bolded, in contrast, by the inky blue vines tracing thorn and rose patterns across his body. 

His cheeks and ears were faintly flushed by a baby pink dust, and his lips looked so soft, so gentle, so inviting. Stray strands of his red hair lay on the cushion beneath him, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones.

You were aching as you approached the enclosure. Your fingers trembled as you pressed them to the glass, your breath slightly fogging the surface. Tears blurred your vision as they began to roll down your cheeks, and you leaned down to gently caress his cheek with your bare hand, feeling the coolness of his skin.

You sniffled and your palms went to rub your glossy eyes, before you straightened up and curled your fingers on the glass in a tight grip. He looked beautiful, you thought, with roses that matched his hair colour surrounding him all over.

“Your Imperial Highn— no, Sae—” you whispered, “I… I love you, too.”

You cupped his face with quivering hands, your thumbs rubbing sweet circles on his skin as you contorted your body awkwardly to reach him. The glass was positioned high, at your waist’s level, so you had to twist your body and bend to touch him intimately.

Sae remained unmoving, yet you had hoped that somewhere deep within his slumber, he could sense your touch, or the sincerity of your unsteady voice confessing your reciprocated love.

As you leaned in to kiss him, that same sharp voice that you always hear yet again cut through your ears, and you instinctively covered them with your hands for protection.

“But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,”

Your heart thumped faster in your chest as you tried to shake it off.

“Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,”

Beads of cold sweat trickled down your temple— you could never get used to the voice, no matter how many times you’d heard it.

“With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,”

Your hands fisted at the cotton under Sae, inhaling deeply before bending down until your face was inches away from his.

“To Bring the Order, End the Storm.”

Your lips hesitantly hovered over his mouth before you fluttered your eyes shut and pressed them against his in a kiss. Your lips together were so soft, yet they weren’t moving against each other like a mutual kiss would. They locked seamlessly in a way that felt strangely natural, as if the pair were made for each other. 

Your lips lingered against his for a few seconds, and you wanted to relish the moment more, but you felt a subtle shift in Sae’s body. A faint flinch, almost imperceptible, ran through him, and the blue roses on his skin suddenly began to glow.

You pulled back before you could fully comprehend what was even happening, your lips just brushing his as you turned and sprinted towards the stairs. Fortunately, the guards on duty were in the midst of a shift exchange, so you assumed you had gone off flawlessly.

But not entirely.

A certain awakened man had caught a glimpse of your hair as it bounced during your escape.

The first light of morning stabbed your eyes, and they fluttered open abruptly as you realized Rin’s hands were on your shoulders, shaking you harshly. His face was itched in a deep scowl, his breath hot against your skin.

“What the fuck is all this about? This is what I come back to, you fucking whore?” He fumed venomously.

You blinked in confusion– your head was still fogged with sleep, after all. 

“W-What..?”

—

The usual tranquility of the whole palace was broken by hurried, squeaky footsteps and frantic voices. News of the Crown Prince’s revival had spread like wildfire through the Royal Quarters: the sleeping prince had defeated the curse and had awakened after only a few mere weeks.

The servants and maids rushed through the hallways, scrambling to prepare for what would be an unexpected audience. Gossips and rumours flowed through every corridor of the palace faster than the head maid brewing herbal tea in preparation for noble guests.

And in the Royal Gardens outside, hundreds to near thousands of noblemen and noblewomen who were alerted of the Sae’s revival gathered, dressed in their finest dresses and suits. 

Oh, you were so fucked.

—

“M-My lady, this isn’t good!” Eleanor cried as she ran into your room, “Hundreds of guests have arrived in the Throne room, and both princes are there too! His Imperial Majesty is now urgently awaiting your presence!”

Your hands instinctively wrapped around your abdomen, and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your body shook slightly, your teary eyes fixing themselves on the ground. You loved Sae, you really did, but doubt was gnawing at your organs. Kissing him felt right in that moment, yet you were starting to regret ever doing it. 

What if he didn’t want your help? What if your peasant lips had tainted him? What if he didn’t want you?

“I… I don’t want to go,” you hiccuped, walking around your room in circles. “I’m so stupid, I should have never—”

“No, my lady,” She interrupted gently. “You must.”

You gulped and nodded hesitantly. Rin’s anger lingered in your mind like salt and pepper— his eyes were boiling over with rage, his face tinted a deep crimson red. You had never seen him like that, and now, as you stepped into the crowd gathered in the grand hall, all heads turned to look at you in a way that made you even more uncomfortable.

But the Emperor, however, did not seem angry. Weird enough, he looked elated for reasons you couldn’t yet pinpoint.

As Eleanor had said, Rin and Sae were both present, standing opposite each other like the rivals they were. Rin was struggling to contain the way he was absolutely fuming, while Sae was blatantly staring at you with no intention of hiding it. Unlike the way you usually reacted to the Crown Prince’s gaze, you felt rather nervous, flexing and unflexing your fingers.

You pinched the fabric of your simple gown and bowed low, and the thin patterns of the marble floor never seemed so interesting.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty,” you addressed. 

The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, before turning his attention to Sae expectantly. “My son.”

“Yes, father.”

Before your wracked mind could process what was happening, Sae suddenly began striding toward you. Rin was a considerable distance away from you but he also furrowed his brows in confusion. A million thoughts started to run through his mind and he felt the unease creeping up his spine. Had they planned something behind his back?

Sae came to a stop in front of you, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his arms, so muscular despite being under layers of hand-crafted clothing, loop around your waist and pull you close. Your face pressed against his chest, and your hands awkwardly hung near your sides despite being desperate to place themselves in places they’d beg to touch.

Loud gasps and surprised awes of the hundreds of uninvited, stunned guests echoed throughout the large room.

“Hey, what the heck–?” Rin suddenly snapped, biting down on his lip so hard that blood seeped out, the iron leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

He didn’t like you, not really, but he had finally claimed something– someone that his older brother desired, and now it felt as though Sae was taking you from him. 

It irritated him to no end, the way Sae’s hand gently patted your hair and the way you sheepishly smiled into his suit like an idiot– who the heck did you think you were? How could you? How fucking dare you?

And more importantly, why was the Emperor fine with this? Why was he chuckling so carelessly akin to the circus’ fool? What was going on?

But your mind was already in Saturn. You were lost in the Crown Prince’s musky scent and the oh-so-delicate taps of his fingers on your head, and when you heard that voice again, you closed your eyes knowingly and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

“A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,”

“In the Embrace of a Simple Face.”

“Y/N.” Sae’s voice broke through your thoughts and the voices of gossip in the crowd died down instantly. He tilted your chin up gently, thumbs caressing your face sweetly before his hands found their place on your cheeks.

Your eyes darted left and right nervously, avoiding his gaze. He'd never called you by your first name before. You shook those thoughts away and met his gaze. “Yes…?”

“You know,” He started, “To break the curse, the feeling of love must be mutual…”

Your cradled head nodded in his hands in embarrassment, and you felt heat creep up from your neck to your ears. “I’m aware,”

“So?”

Your eyes widened and immediately snapped down to the floor, watching your simple heels shuffling softly. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped past your lips, and you only hoped that no one had heard that. You looked up at him affectionately.

“I love you…” Your voice dripped like melted caramel on his tongue, so sweet.

He smiled– a real, genuine smile that no one besides you could see– and leaned down, whispering an “I love you too,” before sealing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle, and you let out a soft sigh as your fingers curled onto the rich fabric, gripping onto his attire tightly. His lips were warm as they moved against yours, unlike the cold, unmoving lips that you had claimed a while back. 

When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, dazed with bleary eyes, little hearts seemingly etched into your pupils.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and maybe a few rolls of the eyes and glares from jealous noblewomen or daughters of Lords who had hoped to have Sae all to themselves, though you barely registered anything.

Why would anything matter, when you were here, openly in his arms?

“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is in love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law? This is hot news!”

“The Second Prince didn’t love her anyway.”

“He didn’t? But was it really a marriage of convenience, then?”

“No way, he must have been in love. What’s there to gain from a commoner?”

“But what could a village girl like her possibly offer the Crown Prince?”

The Emperor suddenly rose from his golden throne and stepped down the carpeted stairs, standing in the center. He cleared his throat and raised his scepter high in the air.

“I, the Emperor of the Royal Empire of Aquaria, officially dissolve the engagement between Y/N and the Second Prince, and announce the engagement between her and the Crown Prince!”

Rin’s eyes twitched. His fists clenched tighter by his sides, knuckles white and nails digging deep into his palms. He felt humiliated in front of so many people, but it is said that what goes around comes around. 

“Huh? But Father, she's—” Rin began, but the Emperor turned his head and shot him a threatening glare. 

“Emperor’s order.” With a voice that sharp, there was no possible room for argument.

You also stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief as you blinked at the Emperor in the distance. But Sae’s fingers tipped your chin back up and his lips latched onto yours in a bold, open-mouthed kiss.

“Look at me,” he murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your gaze locking onto his. “Your Highness… I can’t believe this is happening,” You whisper-yelled in excitement, your hands waving around uncertainly.

He gently poked your cheeks. “You’ll take my last name since you don’t have one.”

You pinched yourself to check if this was all just a dream. If it was, you didn’t want to wake up. But it was all too real. The Crown Prince was now your fiancé. You were going to be the Crown Princess, and eventually, the Empress. And you were going to take his last name because commoners do not have the privilege of family names.

And despite everything, you strangely felt no deep remorse. You had slightly opened up to and grown fond of Rin in the past few weeks– he had those moments, but with you in his brother’s arms right now, you felt something different. You felt bad, but at the same time you didn’t. It wasn’t guilt. It was more complicated, but in the end, you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t need to.

Rin stood in his spot motionless like a fallen angel’s statue, face hidden by a brush of his dark bangs. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his hands were clutching onto his pants like if he removed them hell would break loose.

His plan had backfired on him. Initially, he had chosen you, a commoner, as his fiancée to gain favour with the people, to appeal to the majority of Aquaria’s population, who were commoners themselves. It seemed like a strategic move at the time. His father, the Emperor, was known for his peculiar love for equality and would occasionally volunteer in villages, much to his dismay. Rin had believed marrying you would show his alignment with his father’s baffling… values, and would increase his chances of becoming the next ruler.

But no. His darn prodigy of a brother had bested him once again. Sae was better at everything: swordplay, horse riding, diplomacy, even winning nobles’ hearts. And now, his brother had not only fallen in love with his fiancée, a dumb commoner from the slums that he had chosen to boost his image, but also managed to make her fall heads over heels for him as well.

If that hadn’t infuriated him enough, he despised how his father wore that sickeningly proud smile on his face as he clapped his hands together, and how the couples were cheering and twirling like morons on the floor. While he stood stiff and awkward in the corner, insides seething in mixed emotions, hearing your stupid giggles and his brother’s irritatingly sweet reassurances of a better life with him. Sae had taken everything away from him, and it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

But Rin hated his older brother, and he hated you too.

So on the night of your wedding, the chambermaid in your room let out a blood-curdling shriek, her face as pale as the moonlight that shone through the window. 

Cruel streaks of mulberry and plum bruises painted the delicate canvas of your neck. The once-pure white of your nightgown now blemished with spreading stains of deep cherryrose dye called blood, seeping through the fabric and into the silken sheets beneath. 

A severed porcelain horse’s head lay propped beside the body with vacant eyes, and scattered across the carpet were shattered remnants of a pearl necklace.

“But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,”

A dagger, its handle carved from true blue sapphire, was loosely wrapped between cold, limp fingers of a lifeless corpse sprawled across a river of red.

“For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.”

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[lalunanymph]

MARRY THE TRAITOR ; gojo satoru

⟡ the day you met your demise is the same day you met gojo satoru, your betrothed from a world so different from yours—a cruel prince who is undoubtedly in love with someone else. as the stakes rise and you race against the clock to beat your brutal fate, can you make the ultimate choice between your heart or your happily ever after?

includes: mentions of food, mentions of murder, talks of death, allergic reactions, mentions of giving birth, mentions of injuries, mentions of assault, sick!reader, reader is in cerena's body, isekai-ed reader, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, unrequited love, slow burn, yandere!gojo, prince!gojo

⟡ masterlist

ACT 1, SCENE 4: THE THRONE ROOM

Satoru’s fingers were icy cold, burning into your skin.

He didn't utter a single word when you jerked your head back, the furious glint in your eye looking so pathetic that he almost dared to pity you. 

You hang your head forward, crying softly, unaware of anything but the rushing scenery that fades from foliage to stone walls. Once inside the castle’s fortress, Satoru cuts through your bindings, dismounting from his horse and extending a hand to give you assistance. 

But, stubborn as you are, you slip off the horse and land on your shaky feet, ignoring his outstretched hand and walk ahead, your head held high and glare unyielding.

Satoru catches up to you easily, and you can hear the frustration in his voice when he utters, “We need to see my Father.”

You falter. 

Of course. After the stunt you pulled, it was only natural that the King himself wanted some answers.

Nodding, you clasped your wasp-bitten hands together, trying to smooth your skirt which bore tatters from your tumble with Satoru on the snowy ground, and the hellish chase you endured through the prickly forest foliage.

He led you towards the throne room, pushing open the heavy duty double doors for you.

Immediately, the courtroom fell into a hush; nobles who were conversing amongst themselves stopped to appraise you with horrified looks. The guards gaped at your state of being, and even the court jester ceased his juggling antics, the plastic balls in midair plummeting to the floor with dull thuds. 

The second he clasped his gaze onto you, King Satoshi stood up, a look of horror inscribed upon his features as he took in your wounded hands, the tears on your dresses and across your face. 

“Cerena.”

Satoru moved to stand in front of you, bowing deeply to his father. “Princess Cerena has been rescued and retrieved. She was found in the middle of the Northern Forest, Your Majesty.”

Perturbed by this discovery, Satoshi moves from the dais, approaching you with caution. You dropped your gaze, unable to look him in the eye. 

“What happened to her?” He demanded, as if dealing with an errant child. He turned to Satoru who shot him a grimace. “I thought I told you not to hurt her? Why does she look bedraggled… like she was hunted down?”

Striking up his loathsome glare, Satoru slid his frigid blue gaze to you and spoke the truth. 

“Princess Cerena assaulted me, Father. She climbed up a tree and hacked through a wasp nest to drop it at my feet where I was stung. Then, she tried to run away and cause a scene. I had to do what needed to be done.”

Satoshi’s brows shot up into his white hair, his horrified expression clamoring for your attention in your periphery. 

“Gods above, Cerena—you tried to assault the Prince?” 

The nobles around you gasped, their hands fluttering to their gaping mouths; hiding their shocked expressions behind colorful fan plumes. 

He turned back to you, anger thundering in his teal eyes. 

“Child, what do you have to say for yourself? You have caused a grievous error to my son and you need to be punished duly. It is high treason for anyone to lay a hand on the Prince of Northern Haleway.” 

The injustice and horror of it all coalesced inside of you, and you felt faint from the numerous eyes around. Their accusations grated your ears, sounding like demonic whispers which made you faint with alarm, the corners of the room growing fuzzier as your knees were close to buckling.

“I only ran away because Satoru was conspiring with his lover to end my life!”

Whatever the court thought you would say, it was never this. 

Frenzied murmurs run amuck in the courtroom, like fire catching on dry leaves, crackling around you like a roof about to topple down. King Satoshi’s face paled, and beside you, standing stiff as a rock, your fiancé gritted his teeth. 

“That is absurd,” Gojo rushed to defend himself, sparing you a pertinent glare. “I do not have a lover and I have never conspired with said woman to bring any harm to the Princess’ life. Her accusations are those of a mad woman, Father.”

You flinched and slapped a hand to your mouth, the shakes in your body growing harder to ignore.

“Liar! You conspired to end my life! Why do you think I would run if not for such a treasonous act?” 

Peeling your lachrymose eyes to the King, you hiccuped, “Please, Your Majesty. Speak to the maid named Miri and she will validate what I have to say.”

It was a slim prayer, that of a desperate woman, but you had to try. You had to shine reason into the King’s eyes that his heir was a cruel, calculating and cold man who unfairly wanted to end your life. 

Satoshi pursed his lips, looking between his son and his fiancée who can barely stand without her knees shaking.

In the passing tenseness where no words were spoken, the lightheadedness suddenly stole your breath away and your legs buckled. You would have collapsed to the floor if it weren’t for Satoru’s quick reflexes in catching you, holding you upright as he shot you a seething glare.

“For goodness sake, woman. Stand up straight. You are embarrassing yourself.”

But, you cannot hear his condescension or his warning. Your heart was palpitating rapidly, almost like it wanted to claw out of your chest. The room started to spin, and you realized in a frenzy that you couldn’t breathe properly without feeling like your throat was closing in.

Desperation washed over you and you tried to speak, to tell them something was gravely wrong. 

A flicker of concern flitted across Satoru’s expression and he tried to hold you upright, but your body would not cooperate. 

Losing all bearings and control of your composure, you crumpled right in his arms, as high-pitched screams echoing in the courtroom.

“... guards!” 

“... infirmary… hurry!” 

Satoru lifted you up into his arms, the sheen of his pure white hair shining under the fleeting lights of the passing sconces. Weakly, you tried to call out his name, but he shushed you, his voice dipping in and out of your consciousness. 

“... save your strength… determine what's the issue…”

A hard bed met your back and hands were all over you, expertly probing, pressing and checking your vital signs. 

The physician, an elderly man with wiry salt and pepper curls, pursed his lips, shifting his gaze to the King and the prince waiting anxiously by the sidelines for your diagnosis. 

“Your Majesty. Your Highness. It appears the princess is suffering from an allergy attack. I have the right combination of herbs to aid her, though she might need to be sedated for the time being.”

Satoru bristled at the physician's words. 

“Sedated? Why? She was merely stung…”

He trailed off, the unease in his tone catching the older man's attention.

“Stung, you say, Your Highness? What was she stung by?” As he spoke, he gestured to his assistants to prepare the herbal remedy, applying warm compresses onto the sore portions of your swollen hands. 

Satoru felt his father's eyes boring into the side of his head and replied uneasily:

“She was stung by wasps.”

The physician scrutinized him, noticing the same reddened lesions all over his face and neck which were identical to the ones on your hands. 

Satoru glanced at your unconscious form, guilt glimmering in his cerulean eyes when he took in your ashy pallor and your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“She got attacked while trying to escape from me.”

The physician’s expression turned grave, though he does not openly rebuke the young prince. Rather, he turned his full attention to the afflicted princess and made it his mission for tonight to cleanse her body free of the wasps’ poison. 

“My men will be working tirelessly to resuscitate the Princess’ health, Your Majesty, Your Highness. We shall provide you with a report once it is done.”

There was nothing Satoru could do but let himself be led out of the infirmary, the curtains drawn around your feverish and malaised figure to keep your body away from prying eyes.

However, the idea of a whole group of men taking their turns to rub down your body with salve and paste made his stomach churned, and he quickly snapped his fingers to catch a young maid’s attention.

She straightened, rushing forward and bowing immediately.

“Stay with the Princess until the cleansing process is over and report to me instantly once it is done, do you understand?” 

Bowing again, the brunette scurried towards the drawn curtains and parted it, letting herself into the circle to keep watch over the unconscious Princess.

A large palm squeezed his shoulder and Satoru turned to find his father’s solemn reflection echoed upon his countenance.

“Whatever happens to Cerena tonight, we must prepare for the worse, son.”

Satoshi moved them out of earshot, leaning forward to depart his grave strategy.

“If she should pass on, we would need to secure your engagement with another princess.” Satoru did not expect his father to bring up such an outrageous suggestion at such a delicate time. The abhorrence deepened the lines of shock on his handsome face and he took a step back.

“No—”

Frustrated by his son’s refusal, Satoshi growled. “Satoru, this is what is best for Northern Haleway—”

“Father. With all due respect, you severely underestimate Cerena’s will to live,” Satoru darted his gaze to the cordoned area of the infirmary, failing to hide the shake in his clenched fists. “She will live and she will make it out alive. I swear upon my own words, I will look after her and nurse her back to health. You do not need to make such a rash decision so soon.”

Struck mute by his son’s passionate insistence, Satoshi pursed his lips. 

Eventually, after a few moments of staring down his only heir, the King relented, exhaling an exhausted sigh.

“Alright. I shall put aside the immediate plan for now,” he added gruffly, “Let us hope she makes a speedy recovery.” 

Satoru nodded silently and left his father’s side, moving to lean against the threshold of the infirmary. With his strong arms folded across his chest, his gaze remained fixed on the drawn curtains that concealed his betrothed from the world. 

The distinguished figure of his son, accentuated by the dark embroidered jacket and matching riding pants that highlighted the stark contrast of his pure white hair, stirred a bittersweet longing in Satoshi. It brought back memories of his own burdensome youth—the long nights spent in that very position, waiting for his Queen to deliver him an heir.

With a quiet sigh, he turned away from the infirmary, pausing to give his son one last, curious glance.

This is strange, indeed. I thought Satoru despised Princess Cerena…?

MTT fun fact: swan hunting is a popular sport in Northern Haleway

dawn says: king dadjo is sus,,,,,,

!! reblogs and feedback and asks about this series are so beloved and appreciated and will motivate me to update and write faster <3

©️ all rights reserve to lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost or claim as your own.

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

The Northern Winds (pt. 3)

PART 1 & PART 2

Summary: Lady Y/N is pregnant again after suffering a miscarriage. Winter is coming and with it spring and the news of Prince Jacaerys coming to Winterfell.

Warnings: pregnancy and its symptoms, childbirth, mention of postnatal depression, mention of rape, mature NSFW content (18+), SPOILERS FOR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON/FIRE AND BLOOD (both what has happened and what will happen in the end!!!)

A/N: Let me just say that I cried writing the ending of this story

Taglist: @nixtape-foryou @accountforreading123 @melsunshine @lovemesomevesey @goldenxshine @beebeechaos @mckennah123

@blonde-scandinav1an @letaliabane @answer-the-sirens @lilyed777 @travelingmypassion

***

Before long the Lady of Winterfell was high into her pregnancy and with it arrived a white raven from the archmaesters of the Citadel announcing the winter was upon them. If anyone knew of winter, it was the Northerners. A third of the crops of every harvest had been stored for winter ever since the first white raven arrived sending word of the summer’s end. The winter town beneath the walls of Winterfell filled eagerly once more, its houses, markets, and taverns bustling with life. Fire burned ceaselessly in every hearth making the view from the towers of Winterfell seem like the night sky with stars not of silver but of gold.

The Lady of Winterfell stood atop of one of Winterfell’s watchtowers, observing the smallfolk rushing among the houses and the passageways, taking care of the final errands before the day’s light would be consumed by darkness. Even as the night set in, Lady Y/N could still see them hurrying about because of their torches and lanterns to light the way.

Lady Y/N pulled her heavy cloak closer, supporting her great belly beneath it. If everything was as it was supposed to be, childbirth was not far away. The thought of it filled Y/N with equal measures of joy as well as worry.

The first few moons with child were not easy. Lady Y/N was abed for most of it, sick with nausea and barely keeping anything down. She did not care for food other than salt beef and rusk bread. Even oranges that were once her favourite she could no longer stand. And simply the smell of ale would make Lady Y/N sick immediately. Although it was Cregan’s preferred drink, he ordered it not be served at feasts any longer if the Lady Stark was strong enough to attend. As for him, he would drink wine instead or hippocras when the winter truly set in and the cold was strong enough to bite off your fingers.

Maester Bennard too was with Lady Stark most every day, brewing remedies for her nausea but with very little effect. Yet as the babe grew stronger, the sickness disappeared almost overnight. Lady Y/N regained her strength and her love for oranges and resumed her duties as the Lady of Winterfell with much eagerness although always beneath the watchful eye of Lord Stark. His hard, grey eyes would not leave his wife during council meetings, lingering either on her or her slowly growing belly. As someone who always wielded power, even as a child for Cregan was his father’s heir, Lord Stark came to know complete powerlessness for the first time in his life when his wife fell with child. Whilst he could command his men and wield his great longsword, Cregan could do little when it came to his yet unborn child. Whilst Lady Y/N was abed with sickness, Lord Stark would often leave the leading of the council meetings to his maester and his other trusted advisors. If anything were to go wrong again and Cregan would not be there for his wife, he would never be able to forgive himself.

Lady Y/N too was worried, especially during the first half of her being with child. She could not sleep for fear of waking coated in blood. She had nightmares and was sometimes so tired, not only from sickness but from fear, that she could only leave the bed to use the privy. Yet this time, Cregan was there by her side, watching over her and making sure that his wife had everything she could want and need. When Lady Ellyn was away to get some rest as she tended to Lady Stark at all times, the Lord of Winterfell would stay by his wife’s side, keeping a watchful eye even when Lady Y/N slept. But as the pregnancy neared the end, both the Lord and the Lady of Winterfell quickly forgot about the worries of the past and had no choice but focus on the present. 

“If you are trying to freeze to death, there are easier ways than standing atop of a tower,” said the Lord of Winterfell as he joined his wife. Lady Y/N turned around, meeting her husband’s warm smile with her one of her own.

“The cold air does me good,” said Lady Y/N as Cregan wrapped his arms around her, his nose buried in the fragrant skin of her neck.

“Of course,” murmured Cregan, “You are carrying a northern child.” He kissed the part of Y/N’s neck not shielded by the red fox fur of her blue cloak. Goosebumps rose of Lady Y/N’s arms as she placed her hands on his that were supporting her belly. The babe kicked and although the sensation was uncomfortable for Y/N, it always filled her heart with warmth at the proof of new life.

Lord Stark could not help but smile when he felt his child move beneath his touch. But then his excitement faded some. “Does it hurt you when he does that?” asked Cregan his wife. Lady Y/N was surprised by his question, yet she should not have been for Cregan’s curiosity never ceased and his questions never remained only in his thoughts.

“It is uncomfortable but not painful,” said Lady Y/N before she could actually comprehend what Cregan said.

“He?” asked Lady Y/N, a grin growing on her lips. She turned around to look at Cregan. If it were not for the darkness of the coming night, Y/N would be able to see the heat creep into her husband’s cheeks.

“Or she,” said Cregan quickly, his eyes shifting between his wife and their unborn child. “Either one will do,” said the Lord of Winterfell as he knelt before his wife and kissed her great belly, leaning his forehead gently against it. Lady Y/N ran her gloved fingers through Lord Stark’s hair, secretly wishing their child, be it a boy or a girl, to have their father’s eyes.

Lady Stark placed her hand on Cregan’s cheek when he got up, her thumb smoothing across his wind-lashed skin.

“I too think it is a boy,” confessed Lady Y/N in a gentle voice. Cregan’s grey eyes had never before seemed so big and childlike to her as in that moment when his lips were parted but his mouth at a loss for words.

Lady Y/N stepped on the tips of her toes before Cregan cupped her cheeks and guided her closer. He kissed her ardently again and again, unable to detach himself from her love.

***

A snowstorm raged outside that morrow when the Lord and Lady of Winterfell broke their fast on fried eggs and boiled ham before they would attend the council meeting. Yet as Lady Y/N climbed the stairs of Rodrick’s Tower, a terrible pain spread from her back to her abdomen. A loud gasp escaped her lungs as Lord Stark turned around hastily, Lady Y/N’s hand grabbing onto his arm.

“What is it?” hurried Lord Stark.

Y/N gasped again at another wave of pain, followed by a strange sensation and a small gush of fluid trickling down her leg. A striking pain shot through her abdomen alone this time. Lady Y/N cried out in pain and would have fallen to her knees if not for Cregan holding her.

“The babe … It’s coming,” breathed Lady Y/N, her nails digging into her husband’s forearm.

Cregan did not hesitate and wrapped his arms around his wife, picking her up with easily yet with great care. “Hold onto me,” said Lord Stark and carried Lady Y/N to the birthing chambers. He shouted to the servants to get the maester and the midwife as his wife cried out in pain. Her breathing grew even faster when Cregan laid her into their bed. Y/N caught his hand, begging him with her eyes not to leave her side. Tears gathered in her vision as all of her fears and worries returned to her. She was not much afraid of the pain but for the babe. She would not be able to bear losing it.

“You will be alright, my love,” said Cregan and kissed Y/N’s brow. He brushed away the hair that stuck to her forehead before loosening the strings on her dress. A small sob escaped Lady Y/N’s lips as she paced her breathing whilst they waited for the maester and the midwife.

“I’m not going anywhere,” assured Cregan, holding his wife’s palm with one hand and caressing her cheek with the other. “I promise, my love.”

Lady Y/N nodded just as Maester Bennard, midwife Othella and her ladies-in-waiting arrived.

The maester asked Lord Stark to leave as was customary but Cregan would not be moved from his wife’s side. It was unheard of and yet not a soul dared to say a word of protest.

Lady Y/N remembered her mother’s letters of her own time with child and how Lord Jonos was never remotely interested in the babe until it was born. Lady Whytefort was supposed to visit before Lady Y/N went into labour but the snowstorm must have kept her in a lesser lord’s castle somewhere. Y/N had hoped her mother would be there when the babe would arrive yet she was grateful Cregan was there at least.

Lady Othella, the midwife who assisted the Lady of Winterfell in childbed, was no highborn lady at all but the smallfolk and the noble alike addressed her as lady for the many children she helped deliver and save when the labour was difficult. Lady Othella was a short woman of petite stature yet her hands possessed the strength that could wield a sword. She wore her hair in a coif of deep blue but her tawny locks more oft than not slipped onto her pale, heart-shaped face.

“Breathe, my lady,” instructed Lady Othella as the servants made the bed more comfortable for Lady Y/N. They placed pillows behind her head and beneath her hips, relieving some of the soreness in her back.

Lady Y/N nodded and paced her breathing. Her pains were still very far apart yet no less painful.

The labour lasted through the day and well into the night although there was no telling the time as the snowstorm raged on outside the windows of Winterfell. Near the hour of the ghosts, Lady Stark’s labour pains grew stronger and more frequent, now only moments apart.

Lady Othella announced it was time under the careful supervision of Maester Bennard.

Y/N let go of Cregan’s hand as she was sure she was going to crush all the bones in his hand. She gripped onto the linens instead but the Lord of Winterfell made her take his hand once again.

Lady Y/N pushed and pushed and prayed that the baby would come and come healthy.

“You are almost there, my lady,” encouraged Lady Othella, giving Lady Stark the last bit of strength she needed to push her baby into the world.

A sense of relief came over Y/N as the pressure was gone and the babe’s crying filled the room. Lady Y/N’s loud and fast breathing was scattered with the crying of happiness as Maester Bennard cut the navel string and the babe got wrapped up in clean linens.

“My congratulations, my lord, my lady,” said Lady Othella, a warm smile spreading across her lips. “You have a son.”

Lady Y/N fell the breath get knocked out of her for a moment, her big, pensive eyes wide with wonder as she stared at her son in the midwife’s hands. Lady Othella gave her the babe as Lady Y/N reached out with her hands and Lord Stark finally let go of his wife’s hand. Y/N pressed the babe to her chest instinctively, her mouth full of sobs as the babe’s crying eased. She looked at her husband whose grey eyes flickered between the child no larger than his two hands put together and his beautiful wife, his beautiful wife who just gave him a son.

Cregan’s vision became blurred. He could not remember the last time he cried for it was when he was still a child himself. Yet as Lord Stark saw his wife holding their son, his heart filled with joy indescribable to anyone and at the same time with fear so great he thought it would break him.

Lord Stark got up and kissed Y/N’s forehead, his hand barely touching the babe for fear of hurting him. The baby nuzzled into his mother’s chest, recognizing the warmth and the comfort of her body.

“We have a son,” Lady Y/N cried from happiness as she looked up at her husband.

“We do,” said the Lord of Winterfell in a quiet voice. “Rickon?” asked Cregan as he looked at his wife, his eyes were big and pure as a child’s.

“Rickon,” agreed Y/N and smiled at her babe.

***

After the long and tiresome labour, Lady Stark had time enough to rest and recover but would not let a wetnurse feed her son, not when she could do it herself. Maester Bennard advised against it and encouraged Lady Y/N to focus on recovering and to leave the babe to the wetnurse. Lady Othella did not share his opinion entirely, which was the cause of many quarrels between the maester and the midwife already during Lady Stark’s pregnancy.

Maester Bennard looked to Lord Stark for support, speaking of how the late Lady Gilliane Stark, Cregan’s mother, always entrusted her children into the care of a wetnurse as did the wife of Cregan’s uncle, who had three healthy sons.

Lord Stark stood by the small window of the birthing chamber, seeing how the terrible snowstorm was beginning to cease. The wind whistled and howled violently all the while as the Lady of Winterfell was in childbed.

Lord Stark turned to Maester Bennard when he felt his scholarly gaze on his back.

“You will do as my wife says, Maester Bennard,” said Lord Stark, his arms crossed pensively over his broad chest. His voice was as even and cold as steel.

“You are a maester of the Citadel and are highly valued in my household, Bennard – not only as a learned man but as a friend,” continued Lord Stark. “You are a maester of Oldtown yet you are neither a woman nor a mother and that is no fault of yours, so you will do as Lady Stark commands even if she chooses not to heed your advice.”

Maester Bennard lowered his gaze and bowed, “As my lord commands.”

The newborn babe suckled happily on his mother’s breast, who in equal measure could not be happier herself. Lady Y/N was not opposed to a wetnurse yet she wanted to care for her babe as much as she could on her own, particularly now when the babe had hardly been born.

Once Lady Othella and Maester Bennard retired, assuring Lady Stark was in as good health as she could be, Cregan allowed himself so sit beside his wife and his newborn son. Lady Y/N held the baby with one hand but reached for her husband’s palm with the other. She brought it to her lips and kissed it, her eyes closed as she did so.

“Thank you,” spoke Y/N gently, leaning her head tiredly against the pillow as she watched her husband.

“Whatever for?” asked Cregan, his sharp brows in their usual frown. He had done absolutely nothing whilst his wife did everything.

“Everything,” said Y/N nevertheless, gently holding onto Cregan’s hand. “Did I break all of your bones?” she smiled, brushing her thumb across the top of his palm.

“I think I still have a few of them left,” grinned Cregan as he looked down at his wife’s small hand in his. His heart weighed heavy in his chest but he did not know why. Perhaps he was so happy that some of his happiness had to turn into sadness or he would burst with joy.

“What is it?” frowned Y/N when she saw the melancholy in Cregan’s features.

I’m afraid, Cregan wanted to say. I’m afraid to lose you and I’m afraid to lose our son. Strange how new life so quickly reminds one of death.

“Cregan?” asked Y/N softly when he did not speak. Cregan only sat closer and kissed his lady wife, kissed her again and again, first on her lips then her nose and her cheeks and finally her brow. Cregan leaned his forehead against Y/N’s, his eyes shut tight.

“I love you,” promised Lord Stark and sealed it with another kiss.

“I love you,” said Y/N and caressed her husband’s cheek. The baby cooed when it was done feeding, now happily nuzzling against his mother’s warm chest.

“Do you wish to hold him?” asked Y/N with a smile. Lord Stark froze in place, his eyes round and his lips parted.

“I don’t know,” said Cregan and watched how the happiness dimmed in Lady Y/N’s bright eyes. “My hands … What if they are too rough for him?” said Cregan warily. “What if I hurt him?”

Lady Y/N’s smiled once again. “You won’t, I promise,” said Y/N as she sat up with Rickon resting securely in her hands. Cregan mimicked the shape of his wife’s arms and waited patiently for her to place his tiny, delicate son into his hands. The babe missed the comfort of his mother’s body and let out a cry and then another, each startling Cregan more than the other. But as soon as the babe found the warmth of his father’s chest he stopped his crying and sighed contently. Cregan felt his body tremble as he held his son, seeing how he blinked his small, storm-grey eyes.

When Lord Stark looked up once again, he saw how his wife had fallen asleep, her hand outstretched towards him. Cregan sat close beside her and listened to her soft breathing. As he watched his son, the Lord of Winterfell vowed to himself to destroy anyone who would ever think of harming them.

Come morning, Lady Stark awoke with her husband was sleeping beside her, his arm entwined with hers. She sat up quickly thinking of her son only to see him sound asleep in his bassinet. Lady Y/N laid back down, coming to realize how sore her body was. Every muscle in her body felt uncomfortable. She turned on her back, unable to supress a groan that woke Lord Stark from his light sleep.

“Will you please ask for Maester Bennard?” asked Y/N as she tried to sit up. Her body was something she did not recognize. A mess of pain and discomfort and unpredictability.

Cregan jumped to his feet and called the servants, who fetched Maester Bennard. In the meantime, Lord Stark returned to his wife’s side.

“Are you in pain, my love?” asked Cregan as he knelt beside the bed.

“Everything hurts,” confessed Lady Y/N but it was only normal to feel this way. She had been in labour for near a full day before the babe was delivered. Y/N needed help to use the privy and when she returned Maester Bennard was there with his assistants. He gave her instructions of recovery and some remedies for the pain.

“I would have a bath,” asked Lady Y/N, looking at her maester for advice.

“I believe it would do you good, my lady,” agreed Maester Bennard as he gathered his potions in his ornate, wooden box. “I would also advise warm cloth for your belly and your chest.”

The servants prepared a nice, warm bath whilst Lady Ellyn and Lady Jocelyn helped Y/N out of her clothes. Lifting her legs only slightly proved a greater challenge than Lady Stark could have foreseen. The warm water helped remedy the soreness of her body, however. Y/N allowed Lady Ellyn to help her wash as she could barely find the strength to move her aching limbs.

“You did so well, my lady,” said Lady Ellyn gently as she sat beside the bath, her thumb drawing circles into her friend’s hand. “You have the most beautiful son, you ought to be proud.”

Lady Y/N managed a smile but could not help but feel an unusual melancholy creep in. Lady Whytefort wrote to her of her own mother’s sadness after she gave birth to her. Lady Cerwyn – then Ryswell of the Rills before she widowed and remarried – was said to have locked herself in her chambers and refused to care for her daughter for near a moon’s turn. But afterwards when Lady Y/N’s grandmother recovered everything was as if nothing had happened. Even Y/N herself had not known of this prior to her lady mother’s letter although she was close to her maternal grandmother and stayed at the Rills many a summer’s moon.

Lady Y/N shared this story with Lady Ellyn.

“I am sure you have nothing to fear, my lady,” Lady Ellyn tried to reassure her friend although she had heard of similar experiences happening to other women. “Even if such a thing should occur, you have your ladies and a host of wetnurses who would die to serve House Stark. You would recover and all would be well, I am sure of it,” tried Lady Ellyn. What her friend spoke was true Y/N knew and yet she could not help but feel like a failure at just the thought of not wanting to care for her son. However, as sore and tired as Lady Y/N felt, she could and would not judge any woman who would feel the way her grandmother did upon birthing her daughter. Y/N could not even imagine how difficult it must have been for her own mother especially with a man like Lord Jonos. Lady Y/N loved her father dearly in spite of it all, but she could not stand the way he treated her mother. Especially not now when Y/N saw herself there were different ways of leading married life, good and gentle ways.

Lord Stark returned to Lady Y/N’s chambers. He had washed and shaved and had a change of garments. He seemed tired, a pensive expression hiding in his features.

“I would have a moment with my wife,” said Lord Stark to Lady Ellyn. She got up and curtsied. “If you are able,” said Lord Stark, now turning to his wife.

“I will get dressed,” nodded Lady Y/N.

Lady Stark was helped into a comfortable gown of cerulean blue and white Myrish lace with pearl embroidery whilst she had the servants braid her hair. The warm bath helped Lady Y/N with her pains, allowing her to walk with the support of her lady-in-waiting.

Whilst the Lady of Winterfell had a change of garments, the servants had brought food and drink aplenty for Lord and Lady Stark to break their fast on. They prepared a hearty broth rich with venison and grains for Lady Y/N to recover her strength, offering congratulations left and right as she sat down. Lady Stark reserved a smile for each of them no matter how low- or highborn.

“Could you find any rest, my love?” asked Lady Y/N once the servants left the Lord and Lady of Winterfell to break their fast in peace. Y/N took Cregan’s hand, the warmth of his touch instantly reassuring her. Cregan had dark circles beneath his eyes and his skin appeared ashen. He had not left his wife’s side not for a moment since she went into labour and stayed awake for as long as he could even after Lady Y/N had already fallen asleep.

Lord Stark rose his pensive, grey eyes to Y/N. “How can you ask me that when you have just given birth to our son?” said Cregan gently as he squeezed his wife’s hand in his.

“I could not have done it if you had not been there by my side,” said Lady Y/N genuinely. She paused.

“Are you happy?” asked Y/N anxiously. Cregan’s brows furrowed into an incredulous frown.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Only … You seem distant,” said Lady Y/N, watching her husband’s eyes for any trace of doubt.

“Forgive me,” said Cregan heavily yet his voice quietened some as he looked towards the window.

“Tell me,” asked Lady Y/N, not ungently, and squeezed her husband’s hand reassuringly.

“I …” began Cregan. “I had a brother,” said Cregan, his grey eyes returning to his wife. Y/N stared at him, her mouth parted. “He died aged only two when I was ten-and-one.”

“You cannot remember him from your time here at Winterfell. You could not even if you stayed for a full moon and not a day. My mother did not like him leaving his chambers. He was sickly … He had been since he was born,” said Cregan. “I … I barely knew him …”

“I am so sorry,” said Y/N, not knowing what else to say. She reached out to him, enfolding his calloused palm between her hands. They had been wed for more than a year and yet Y/N had never heard Cregan nor anyone else for that matter mention Lord Stark having had a brother.

“What happened?” asked Y/N gently.

“Fever took him,” said Cregan, his gaze focused on his wife’s hands clasped around his own. “First it took my mother, then Benjen not even three nights after,” told Cregan, his voice deep and sombre. “He was named after my grandsire.”

“I am so sorry, my love,” spoke Y/N gently.

Lord Stark got up from the table and stood by the window, his gaze reaching out beyond the walls of his strong castle.

“At least my mother did not have to see him die,” said Cregan to himself more than to his wife. “At least the Gods spared her as much.”

Y/N stared at her husband’s back, coming to realize where Cregan’s melancholy and pensiveness came from. The birth of their son agitated old wounds and disturbed the present. Cregan did not so much feel the loss of his brother when he held his newborn son; rather, he came to understand his mother’s worry and fear at the prospect of having to bury her child.

Lady Y/N gathered what strength she could and got up from the table on her own. Lord Stark turned around but Y/N was already by his side. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, Cregan’s hands instinctively wrapping around Y/N’s waist as he buried his nose in the warmth of her neck. Cregan let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

*** 2 YEARS LATER ***

As the cold and heavy winter went by leaving nothing but darkness and snow, a hope of spring returned when a white raven flew in from Oldtown bearing news of the winter’s end. Although the snow was never quite gone north of The Gift, the blizzards and snowstorms grew scarcer and were replaced by days of warm sunshine at Winterfell.

Despite the winter and Lord Stark’s frequent visits to the Wall before the snow became too tall to travel, there was always some form of joy and merriment in the castle walls of Winterfell. As little Rickon Stark, the firstborn son of Lord Cregan and Lady Y/N Stark, grew older and bolder by the day, he kept his noble parents busy even when there were no lordly duties to attend to.

“Rickon tells me you are going to show him how to ride to-day,” spoke Cregan softly, his voice deep and husky in the hour of the nightingale. His fingers were tangled in his wife’s hair, their foreheads nearly touching as they savoured the last moments of peace before the castle would be bustling with errands and duties to attend to once again.

Y/N rose her big, sleepy eyes to her husband’s. “He will only sit ahorse,” said Lady Y/N quietly, tracing her fingers across the scars on Cregan’s chest. “Mayhaps I will let Ser Tybald lead him around the courtyard if Rickon will wish to,” considered Y/N aloud.

“Of course he will, he is your son,” laughed Cregan, secretly delighting in his wife’s soft touch.

“Is he not your son too?” said Y/N aghast as she grinned, leaning on her elbow. “I suppose you preferred learning the names and banners of Houses to spending time with swords and horses,” she teased.

Cregan smiled and pulled Y/N into a kiss, her arms resting on his strong chest. She moved even closer, deepening the kiss as she harboured a secret to tell her husband. But as his arms wrapped around Y/N’s hips eagerly, she forgot all about the news and straddled Cregan’s waist instead. He pulled off her nightgown, his hands reaching immediately for her soft breasts. Cregan sat up and kissed them as Y/N’s hands tangled in his dark hair. She moaned when he found her sweet spot, knowing her body better than sometimes she did.

“Mommy! Mommy!” called a small voice running around the hallways of Winterfell. Y/N gasped as her gaze darted towards the door.

“Gods,” muttered Y/N hastily and jumped off the bed where she picked up her nightgown and slipped it on just in time. Cregan laughed as he leaned against the bedframe, watching a deep blush flush his wife’s cheeks as Rickon burst into the room, wrapping his arms around her mother’s knees.

“Good morrow, little one,” said Y/N, her eyes locking with Cregan’s when she picked up her son and held him to her. “Should you not be abed?” Lady Stark asked of her son but made eyes at her all too amused husband.

“I wanted to see you,” said Rickon cheerfully although there was sleep in his eyes.

“Alright, little warrior,” said Cregan as he got up from the bed. “Your mother is right. Back to bed.” Cregan took his son from Y/N’s arms, the playful, teasing look in Cregan’s eyes making Y/N’s knees weak. A shivery breath escaped Y/N’s lips as she watched her husband’s bare back when he walked across their chambers.

Rickon’s wetnurse was already at the door of their rooms yet dared not come in.

“I’m so sorry, m’lord,” said the wetnurse as she took Rickon from Lord Stark’s arms.

“That’s alright,” said Lord Stark gently, running his hand through his son’s dark hair one last time before he returned to his private chambers.

Cregan slipped his arms beneath Y/N’s bum and lifted her up eagerly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to their bed. He sat down, his large hands squeezing his wife’s soft thighs. Cregan went for his breeches but Y/N stopped him.

“Let me do it,” she spoke softly, her voice laced with desire. She dropped to her knees and undid Cregan’s nightbreeches, pulling them off with haste. Cregan watched as his wife took him in her mouth, her tongue sliding skilfully along his length. Cregan threw his head back in pleasure, his fists balling around the linens of their bed to keep himself from climaxing immediately. As Cregan groaned in pleasure his eyes met Y/N’s. She stopped, teasing her husband.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” muttered Cregan and quickly pulled Y/N into his lap.

“Show me,” she breathed against his lips, her heart beating harshly against her chest.

Cregan took Y/N’s waist and turned her around, pulling off her loose nightgown yet again. His fingers found her breasts once more as he kissed her neck one last time before he took Y/N’s hips and entered her. Y/N moaned loudly as she clawed at the furs of their bed. Cregan’s thrusts were hard and even before he slowly escalated his pace. Y/N could not help but whimper in pleasure as her husband’s fingers tangled in her long hair, pulling on them gently. Cregan leaned down and kissed her from behind, his hips moving faster and then slower as he felt himself nearing his pleasure. He reached around Y/N’s waist with his hand, his fingers nestling between her thighs. Y/N winced in pleasure, leaned into his touch and only moments away from complete pleasure. Y/N whimpered halfway through a moan, climaxing sooner than she anticipated. She leaned her head against the bed as her eyes closed, Cregan’s fingers digging harshly into the soft curves of her hips. Cregan’s seed dripped down the inside of Y/N’s thigh before they both fell flat on the bed, their bodies tangled and exhausted from divine pleasure.

***

After breaking their fast in Benjen’s Hall, Lady Stark took her son Rickon to the stables as she promised. Ser Tybald provided a well-natured, chestnut pony with mane the colour of butter for Lord Stark’s firstborn son.

“Let him smell you,” said Lady Stark and lifted her son into her arms. “Like this,” she showed by placing her palm gently to the pony’s muzzle. Rickon reached out hesitantly but when the pony leaned her muzzle against his hand, he smiled with eyes as happy as ever.

“You have to name him now,” encouraged Lady Stark, “But you have to name him carefully for he will carry that name for many years.”

Rickon looked at her with big, round eyes, his mind whooshing with a thousand ideas. He looked at his horse again with his lips parted.

“Squire,” said Rickon determinedly.

Lady Y/N watched as her son reached for the pony’s muzzle once again, mesmerized by Rickon’s likeness to his father.

Y/N kissed her son’s temple and put him down, allowing the master-of-horse to show him how to properly saddle and ready a horse. She watched as he was sat into one of the saddles, first off horse and later on Squire. He beamed with joy when Ser Tybald asked him if he wanted to have a walk around the courtyard.

“Mother, may I?” called Rickon from atop of his butter-maned pony.

“You may,” allowed Lady Stark, her lips spreading into a smile at the sight of her boy content. “Only be careful and hold on tight.”

“I will,” promised Rickon, his little hands wrapping tightly around the horn of the saddle.

Lady Y/N pulled her cloak closer to her as a cold, spring breeze swept through the walls of Winterfell.

“What did he name the horse?” asked a voice behind Lady Stark. She turned around, her eyes finding those of her husband.

“Squire,” smiled Lady Y/N.

“Of course,” said Lord Stark, unable to disguise a grin off his lips.

Y/N wrapped her hand around Cregan’s elbow, pressing closer to him. “What did you name your first horse?” she wondered.

Cregan smiled, “Jester.”

Lady Y/N could not help but snort a laughter, finding the name so very fitting of Cregan as she imagined him as a young boy. He laughed with her, almost asking the same of Y/N but quickly remembered.

“Blackspur was my first,” said Lady Y/N all on her own, the smile on her lips turning into a melancholy one. Ser Tybald had to put her down soon after the beginning of the new year for she had grown sick. It was the kindest thing to do, knew Y/N, yet that acknowledgement made it hurt no less. Blackspur had a long and comfortable life, longer than many horses. Those were the only thoughts that could make Lady Stark’s grief less painful.

“I know,” spoke Cregan and kissed his wife’s temple.

Suddenly echoed an approaching sound of hooves against the cobblestones. Lady Stark stood up straight, detaching herself hesitantly from Cregan’s warm body to welcome unexpected guests. Yet only two riders crossed the Hunter’s Gate into the castle, leading a beautiful filly tied to one of their saddles. She had long muscular legs, her coat of raw umber brown. She shook her head, her mane alike in colour, as the horsemen dismounted and one of them took her into Winterfell’s stables.

“Wait for me,” asked Cregan of his lady wife before he met with the other horseman, who bowed their heads before the Lord of Winterfell. They spoke briefly and even shook hands. Lady Stark’s gaze drifted to her son across the yard when his pony neighed, her heart leaping out of her chest for a moment. Rickon laughed however, savouring every moment before he would have to listen to Maester Bennard’s lessons on Houses great and small.

“Come,” Lady Y/N heard her husband call. She turned her attention to him but saw the riders leave through the Hunger’s Gate. They were gone as quickly as they arrived.

“What is it? Is their horse injured?” asked Y/N once at her husband’s side. Knights and lords, especially of smaller Houses, often brought their mounts to Winterfell if the animal was ill or injured for Winterfell had one of the best stables in the North.

“She is in perfect health,” said Cregan as he led his wife into the stables. The ash brown filly paced restlessly, her elegant head turning towards the strangers coming to see her. She was young, only just old enough to saddle.

“Why did they bring her then?” asked Y/N, admiring the magnificent animal and wondering if per chance they wanted Ser Tybalt to break her in and have her ready for riding.

“She is yours if you want her,” said Lord Stark, his gaze shifting between his wife’s eyes and the filly he chose for her.

“What?” gasped Lady Y/N, looking up at her husband’s expecting eyes. She was at a loss for words.

“I know she cannot replace Blackspur but—”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut Cregan off before he could finish. She took his hand and stepped on the tips of her toes to kiss him. He leaned down for her, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. Y/N pulled away slowly, looking around to make sure they were alone. Ser Tybald was still leading Rickon on Squire and informing him all about caring for horses.

“I have to tell you something, husband,” said Lady Y/N, biting her lip as she could not help but smile. She looked down at her Cregan’s chest and the silver direwolf emblem resting between his collarbones.

“What is it?” asked Cregan, his brows quickly jumping into a gentle frown.

“I am with child again,” whispered Y/N as she looked up into her husband’s eyes. The emotions in the greyness of his irises swirled like a great summer storm.

“Say it again,” breathed Lord Stark incredulous.

“I am with child,” repeated Lady Y/N, her smile as bright as ever as she observed her lord husband’s reaction. Cregan pulled her into his arms eagerly, his hands cupping her cheeks as he kissed her deeply. Y/N’s palms rested against her husband’s chest as she could not help but smile into the kiss.

“Mommy!” called Rickon’s small voice as he came running into the stables. Ser Tybald followed him with Squire.

“Can I ride again in the after-noon?” begged Rickon, his eyes as big as stars. The boy knew the answer would be ‘no’ but with his mother at least he stood a chance.

“Ask your father,” smiled Lady Y/N, her hand creeping into her husband’s palm.

“Father, may I?” asked Rickon carefully, his arms locked behind his back as he swayed left and right ever so slightly, his eyes resting on his father’s boots. He knew the answer this time too.

“Tomorrow,” said Lord Stark. “Come, Maester Bennard must be waiting for you.”

Speaking of which, as soon as the Lord and Lady of Winterfell returned inside the castle they were met with Maester Bennard. He was out of breath, his normally pale cheeks flushed with fever.

“My lord,” Maester Bennard gasped for breath, “My lord, urgent news from Dragonstone.” He handed Lord Stark a scroll of parchment with a broken seal of a red, three-headed dragon.

Cregan placed Rickon into his wetnurse’s care before he unrolled the raven scroll. “It’s Prince Jacaerys,” told Lord Stark aloud as he turned to his wife. “He is coming to Winterfell.”

***

As they lay in bed that night and Cregan’s hand rested gently on the barely visible bump of Y/N’s belly, neither the Lord nor the Lady of Winterfell could fall asleep. The night was bright and the moon shone invasively through the windows of their private chambers.

“What do you think he wants?” whispered Y/N quietly in case Cregan managed to fall asleep. She need not have asked for she knew, she only did not want to accept it.

“I do not know,” spoke Cregan gravely. “But I do now my father swore an oath … I swore an oath.”

News of trouble and strife in House Targaryen had long been flying north to Winterfell. The ravens more oft than not came from outside the walls of the Red Keep, coming from the Riverlands and the Vale and even from the Reach. The matter of succession seemed to be settled when King Viserys the Peaceful declared his daughter as his heir and future queen. Yet upon his death, appeared to have formed two camps that the smallfolk and the great alike called the Greens and the Blacks. The first supported Prince Aegon’s claim to the throne as he was King Viserys’ eldest son and the latter the claim of Princess Rhaenyra. If the North was to get involved in the war within House Targaryen, Winterfell would declare for Princess Rhaenyra as it did when King Viserys was still alive.

Y/N’s heart grew heavy in her chest. She placed her hand atop Cregan’s that was resting on her belly and squeezed it tightly. A shaky breath escaped her lips as she stared at the ceiling, knowing full well she will not find any sleep tonight.

“Hey,” whispered Cregan and leaned on his elbow. He caressed Y/N’s cheeks, making her look at him. “We will not know until he is here,” Cregan tried to reassure her some. He could not tell if it was the moonlight glistening in Y/N’s eyes or whether they were tears he saw, but Y/N nodded nevertheless if only to give her husband some peace.

The following eve came word from New Castle. Prince Jacaerys spent the night in White Harbor with his dragon Vermax and would fly for Winterfell in the morn.

The castle was up in preparation for the welcoming of the royal prince. Lady Stark ordered the kitchens to prepare the finest dishes of roast boar and pheasant in a sauce of almonds. The best casks of ale and wine were to be brought from the cellars of Winterfell and the Great Hall arranged appropriately. Only the highest and noblest of councillors were to attend the feast upon Prince Jacaerys’ arrival alongside Lord Stark and Lady Y/N.

After only just bearing through the winter, neither the Lord nor the Lady of Winterfell were too pleased to prepare a dozen sheep and goats for the prince’s dragon to feast on yet they had little choice in the matter.

Lady Stark chose a gown of ash green and pale white in the colours of Winterfell with a belt of white gold with the emblem of two direwolves’ heads baring their fangs at one another in its centre. She wore a necklace and earrings of emerald stones encrusted with diamonds that Cregan had gifted her upon the birth of their son.

The Lady of Winterfell paced around the Great Hall, making sure everything was perfect for the feast. Although she had put tremendous effort into the evening, both she and Cregan decided to keep the spirit of things much alike they would for any other highborn lord or lady coming to visit. Even though House Stark bent the knee to House Targaryen many years ago, the sense in the North was still that of House Stark’s rule.

Lady Y/N did not truly consider the prince’s dragon until she heard it screeching and roaring above the castle walls. Her heart sank as her eyes grew big coming face to face with her husband.

“Come,” said Cregan, holding out his hand. “He is here.”

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell gathered outside, greeted by the early spring snows. Lady Stark wore a heavy cloak of cloth-of-silver and wool, with fur of the grey wolf. She held her hands locked together before her, her breath coming out in clouds. It was nightfall already as she gazed into the sky. Her mouth went dry at the sight of an enormous, bat-like figure dancing in the sky. The beast screeched, irate with the cold and the snow.

The prince descended into the courtyard of Winterfell’s castle, the force of the dragon’s leathery wings sending snowflakes back into the sky. Prince Jacaerys dismounted and spoke to his beast in High Valeryan before meeting the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

Lord Stark bowed his head and Lady Y/N curtsied gracefully before the crown prince.

“My prince,” said Lord Stark first, his words echoed by his wife.

“Lord Stark,” greeted Prince Jacaerys. “My lady,” he said, kissing the top of Lady Stark’s gloved hand. She offered a small smile but could not help but notice the prince’s youth although there were not many years of difference between them nor between him and Cregan for that matter. It was true what they said, however. The crown prince looked little like a Targaryen ought to with his head of brown locks and eyes of green. In truth, Prince Jacaerys looked much more like her own brother, thought Lady Stark, save for the prince’s fox face and slender frame true of House Targaryen.

“Welcome to Winterfell,” said Cregan as he accepted the prince’s hand in his. Lord Stark towered over the prince although he towered over most any man and Prince Jacaerys was no different.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell welcomed the prince into the Great Hall where the noble councillors of Winterfell awaited, bowing and showing their respects to Princess Rhaenyra’s heir and messenger as he would name himself.

Prince Jacaerys was seated to the right of Lord Stark whilst Lady Y/N sat to his left. She nodded to the servants to bring the food and serve the drink whilst the singers sang and played their music. There was no talk of succession nor war or politics until the feast had ended. Although the Lord of Winterfell offered the prince to rest for the night before they talk, both Prince Jacaerys as well as Lord Stark were of a mind to speak now.

They walked the walls of Winterfell to ensure privacy, accompanied only by the cold and the snow. Prince Jacaerys looked toward the winter town, seeing but a few of the lights that warmed its houses during the past two years.

“I see winter is still true in the North although they say elsewise at the Citadel,” spoke the crown prince.

Lord Stark smiled although he wished to laugh. “These are only the spring snows, my prince. During winter, all that you see was covered in snow and all memory of warmth was neigh forgotten.”

Prince Jacaerys turned to his mother’s sworn vassal. Cregan Stark was a man hardened by cold and winter, a man seasoned in battle and in swordplay, whose reputation as one of the best swordsmen in all of the Seven Kingdoms preceded him. Lord Stark was only a few years his senior and yet he had seen and lived the life of a man.

Prince Jacaerys looked at Lord Stark with both envy as well as admiration. He was a royal prince and yet he had not lived or done as half as Lord Stark.

“I confess I wished to see the Wall,” said Prince Jacaerys, stirring his thoughts in another direction. “It would have pleased me to meet with you in the place where our ancestors treated.”

“Indeed,” said the Lord of Winterfell, the fur on his heavy coat ruffled by the cold winds. “At least you have the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon.” Lord Stark’s words cut a uncomfortable silence between the two young men.

“Surely the great Torren Stark would have sooner died than bent the knee. Unless he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms.”

“You are right in that,” agreed Lord Stark as they walked along the walls of his castle.

“That unity is now threatened,” urged Prince Jacaerys. “The realm will soon tear itself apart if the men do not remember their oath sworn to King Viserys. And to his rightful heir.”

Lord Stark stopped. “Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” said Cregan sombrely. “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between north and south. In the winter, my duty to the North and to the Wall is even more dire than what I owe to King’s Landing,” spoke the Lord of Winterfell as they continued walking. “I need my men here.”

This time, Prince Jacaerys held his step. He frowned at his mother’s vassal, his temper as quick as any Targaryen’s. “Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne.”

Lord Stark did not heed the haste of Prince Jacaerys’ words and climbed into the northmost watchtower.

“If my mother is to defend her claim, to hold the realm united,” said Prince Jacaerys, following him into the nest, “She needs an army. War is coming – to the whole of the realm, my lord. We cannot wager without the support of the North …” spoke the prince, his words losing breath as the vastness of the North opened before his eyes. An endless sea of white spread before him, disturbed only by shadows of trees and moving clouds of snow.

“My father brought King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to see the Wall. His grace watched as their dragons, the greatest power in the world, refused to cross it,” told Lord Stark as the prince found his breath.

“Do you think my ancestors built a seven-hundred-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?” said Cregan, looking the crown prince dead in the eye.

The young prince stared at him pensively. “What does it keep out?” he asked.

Lord Stark eyes darkened. “Death.”

The Lord of Winterfell walked Prince Jacaerys inside the castle. He felt the weight of his father’s oath, the oath that was his own.

“I have thousands of greybeards who have already seen too many winters,” said Lord Stark. “They are … well-honed.”

“So they are old?” asked Prince Jacaerys, his brows raising slightly. They had reached the chambers prepared for him.

Lord Stark nodded solemnly but the North needed its best men to remain.

“I can ready them to march at once,” promised the Lord of Winterfell.

Prince Jacaerys smiled, grateful for Lord Stark’s dislike of pretence.

“If your greybeards can fight, the Queen will have them,” agreed Prince Jacaerys.

A smirk crept into the line of Cregan’s mouth. “They will fight hard, like Northerners.”

***

Y/N could not even find it in her to sit down, much less fall asleep until Cregan returned to their chambers. The hour was late yet Y/N was as awake as it were mid-day. She stared at her husband expectantly when he returned, a great tiredness set in his features.

“He wants our men to fight for his mother’s claim,” confirmed Lord Stark.

And what of you? Does he want you? Y/N wanted to ask but could not make herself speak.

“I told him my men need to stay in the North. The Wall must needs be protected,” said Cregan. Y/N’s chest dropped with an exhale of relief yet only for a moment.

“I offered him my greybeards,” spoke Cregan before he walked over to one of the chests with his belongings. “I will go south as soon as they are ready to march.”

Cregan’s words knocked the wind out of Y/N as her heart dropped to her stomach. She grew sick with nausea.

“I thought to save this for another occasion,” said Cregan as he took a large package wrapped in cloth of silk from one of the painted chests.

Y/N stared at him astounded but took the parcel that he offered. She laid it carefully on the bed, pulling apart the silken wrapping. A coat as white as snow lay underneath, trimmed in fur without a single hair of colour. Y/N’s lips parted as her fingers glided through the fur as soft as butter. She frowned for she knew it came from a beast as rare as any. No wolf or mink could ever produce such a soft and white coat.

“Winter fox?” Y/N thought out loud, her big round eyes rising to her husband’s.

“To keep you warm if I do not return before the next winter,” said Cregan with a small smile although he could not hide the guilt and melancholy in his grey eyes.

Y/N looked at him thunderstruck. She did not care for the coat no matter how magnificent; all she wanted was her husband.

“Before the next winter?” gasped Y/N. “But … That could be years. That will be years.”

“I swore an oath, Y/N,” said Cregan with a heavy heart. “I cannot send my men south with no one to lead them.”

You swore an oath to me too, Y/N wanted to say but was glad she did not; the last thing she wanted was to argue. She understood that the realm was more important even if she herself would have let it burn to the ground if it meant her husband would remain by her side.

Y/N looked down at Cregan’s chest as her eyes welled with tears so hot they felt as cold as ice.

Cregan did not have the words to comfort her. He only pulled her into his arms, holding her head to his chest as she wept quietly.

*** ANOTHER 2 YEARS GONE BY ***

Many moons went by, then a year and then another during which Cregan’s letters maintained Lady Stark’s sanity. If not for her children and her ever faithful friend Lady Ellyn, Y/N would be sure to lose her mind. However, with one child running around and another at her hip - a daughter born in the late spring that she named Sarra - time went by quickly for the Lady of Winterfell after the first few moons without Cregan.

The council held news of the progress of the Targaryen war in the south. It received reports of the little prince Jaehaerys’ assassination, the death of Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys at Rook’s Rest, King’s Landing changing rulers faster than the wind changes in the North, and even news of Prince Aemond’s death met at the hands of Prince Daemon at God’s Eye, where the lake swallowed both Targaryen princes as well as their mighty beasts.

All the while the news of war arrived from the capital and its surrounding Houses, the Lady of Winterfell prayed in the Godswood for her husband’s safety, that neither he nor his army be met with dragonfire, and that he returns safely to her, to Winterfell, to see his son grow and meet his daughter.

Lady Stark taught her children the ways of the Old Gods and spoke often of their father. Sarra was but a near a babe still yet Rickon had known and loved his father well. He cried many a night after Lord Stark marched south, and Lady Stark cried too. However, as time passed by, Cregan’s absence became easier to bear and life forced everyone to continue living. Seed needed to be planted for the first crops and people were beginning to leave the winter town abandoned to return to their farms and fields. The castle needed mending after the harsh winter as did the Wall, and lords from all over North came to House Stark for help.

In the meanwhile, Lady Y/N grew great with child and her lady mother came to stay until the babe was born. Lady Y/N had it easier with Sarra than she had with Rickon both in terms of early sickness as well as her time in childbed. Her daughter was born in the early hours of the morning, the labour lasting only a few hours. Sarra was a small, fragile babe but quickly grew stronger as the spring turned brighter and warmer. Although Rickon looked much like his father when he was born, he had grown more and more into the character of both his mother and father. He loved climbing and riding and pestered Ser Harwyn every waking moment to train him at swordplay. Sarra, however, was silent and calm. She looked like her mother with eyes that were exactly like those of Lady Stark.

The summer neared when a raven arrived bearing Lord Stark’s grey direwolf. Lady Y/N sat with the letter in her husband’s solar and read.  

Beloved wife,

I encountered no war to speak of when my greybeards entered the red city. King’s Landing has long yielded to the many deaths of its kings and queens. I held court for six days to seek punishment for those who ended the life of King Aegon II, for no king should die of poison but on the battlefield with honour. I sought punishment for those too who conspired against the rightful heir. Many decided to take the black and join the Night’s Watch than to die at the blade of my sword. Those are the ones who will return north with me whilst many of my greybeards decide to remain in the south and in the Riverlands to attend the Widow Fairs.

I was offered a place in the king’s service that I could not accept. I long to return to you and our children, to see the towers of Winterfell rising before my eyes. When they place the crown on the boy king Aegon’s head, I will gather my men and we will march home.

Cregan

Lady Y/N reread the letter over and over again until it was engraved in her memory. Her heart beat harshly against her throat as her eyes watered yet she did not weep. She folded the letter and held it to her chest, closing her eyes as she leaned back in her husband’s chair. A ride from Winterfell to King’s Landing took a moon’s turn at the least, more with an army marching with you. Yet it did not matter. He was coming back. Cregan was returning home.

***

Lady Stark took to the Wolfswood with Ser Harwyn and an escort of knights following not far behind. She rode her mare neigh every day, the ash brown filly her husband gifted her after the passing of her beloved Blackspur. Lady Y/N named the beast Tempest for her temper and the ashen colour of her coat. Although Blackspurt had been wary of strangers but warmed up to them eventually, Tempest did not care for them. If she disliked any of them, she would show it by stomping her hooves or kicking, her teeth snapping at many a stableboy’s hand. But she was different with Lady Stark. There was a bond between the temperamental mare and the Lady of Winterfell no one could quite understand. Even in her pregnancy, Tempest sensed the change in her mistress, and whilst the horse did not care for her caretakers, she never lashed at children.

One evening Rickon resented his mother for not being to tell him when his father would return from the march. It has been close to two years since Lord Stark left for the south with his greybeards. The boy disappeared from his rooms in the night with no one being able to find him.

Lady Y/N’s first instinct was to check the stables and Squire but the boy was not there and the pony was in his stall. Whilst the castle was up in the search of Winterfell’s heir, young Rickon was hiding right where they first searched for him – in the stables. He meant to go to Squire, his beloved pony, yet as he stepped into he stable, the noise aroused Tempest.

Rickon tread carefully towards her, knowing of her temper but could not help himself. His curiosity was too great. He looked at the ashen brown mare in her stall, her breath coming out in clouds in the cold night. Rickon approached the iron bars of her door, carefully raising his hand to her muzzle. Tempest snorted, frightening little Rickon so much he fell to his butt. He did not understand why but he picked himself up and tried again. He brought his hand up to Tempest’s muzzle once again and let her smell him. Her muzzle was warm and wet against his touch, causing a smile to spread across Rickon’s lips. He carefully pushed open the door to her stall and met her, standing twice his size. His heart was thumping in his chest with excitement but he was not afraid.

They found the boy in the morning when one of the stableboys brought Tempest her grain and came to clean her stall. The mare was lying in the hay, staring warily at the stableboy whilst little Rickon slept against her belly.

Cold northern winds whooshed through the forest, rocking the tall trees of Wolfswood. Lady Stark’s gaze rose to their swaying crowns as she took in the fresh air after being cooped up in council meetings and hearing of the issues of the smallfolk. She had to condemn two thieves and a rapist – the thieves lost the same amount of fingers as the chickens they stole whilst the rapist chose death over taking the black and Lady Stark was glad for it.

Every time the Lady of Winterfell had to condemn a rapist she remembered the bandits who attacked her many years ago right there in the Wolfswood. She could not forgive herself for not taking an escort that time. If she had, the knights would have cut down the delinquents and they would never have had the chance to despoil that peasant girl. Lady Stark often rode past her father’s farm to see how they were living. When the girl wed last year, Lady Y/N then found a way to pass by her husband’s carpentry shop, making sure the girl and her family had everything they needed. It pained Lady Y/N to see the girl bow her head to her and curtsy clumsily when Y/N passed by on Tempest when she was the one who wanted to drop to her knees and beg the girl forgiveness.

“Have there been any more news from King’s Landing?” asked Ser Harwyn, the master-of-arms at Winterfell, waking Lady Stark from her thoughts.

“Not since Rhaenyra’s boy was crowned,” said Lady Y/N, leading her mare up a gentle slope.

It has been more than two moon's since the youngest son of Queen Rhaenyra was crowned Aegon III Targaryen although the smallfolk had already named him Aegon the Unlucky.

“Mayhaps Lord Stark took rest at Riverrun,” suggested Ser Harwyn, following his lady up the slope on his tall red gelding.

Lady Stark did not say anything. She would not allow herself to think of Cregan’s return for she found it consumed her thoughts and she could not find the will to do any of her duties if she did so. When Cregan left to fight the wildlings shortly after they were wed, Y/N felt almost as if she were greeting a stranger when he returned; and they have been parted for only four moons. It has been more than two years since they last saw each other now. Y/N could not bear to think of her husband finding company in another woman’s arms, of his love for her blowing away like the leaves off a dying tree.

“I would return to the castle though Stone Creek,” said Lady Stark to keep her thoughts from drifting.

“Past the girl Alys’s house?” asked Ser Harwyn although he already knew the answer. He as well as any who were there that day when the bandits were tried and condemned by Lord Cregan Stark knew the wroth of the Lord of Winterfell and the justice of his lady wife.

It was Ser Harwyn too who found the girl for Lady Stark and told her of her name and where she lived. Alys wed a carpenter, a boy her age with yellow hair and eyes the colour of the sky.

As Lady Stark commanded, they passed though Stone Creek on the way back to the castle. It was a small village of some half a dozen farms and their respective fields. The smallfolk stopped their work when the Lady of Winterfell passed on her tall mare and bowed their heads with respect. The Lady Stark wore a gown of pale poppy red with hems and bodice embroidered in the string-of-gold. It has been more than five years since Lady Y/N of Whytefort became their Lady of Winterfell yet none of her beauty faded in that time. She only grew further into her womanhood although ruling Winterfell made Lady Y/N harder. It strengthened her back in her saddle and firmed her slender yet womanly body with authority.

Lady Stark passed by the girl Alys’s house. She saw her in her garden surrounded by blooming herbs as she fed the chickens, her newborn baby crying softly in its woven bassinet. It has been a while since Y/N passed through Stone Creek for the last time she saw Alys was when the girl was still great with child.

Lady Stark smiled to herself and spurred Tempest on. The escort of knights followed as their hooves thumped through the small village. Winterfell already rose in the distance when the sky turned grey, its menacing clouds foretelling rain.

The company spurred their mounts to a leisurely gallop as they crossed the fields and meadows back to the safety of the castle. A drop of rain fell here and there but Lady Stark hoped to reach Winterfell before the downpour. The air was thick with humidity in the face of the summer. Y/N thought she heard thunder in the distance yet her eyes fell upon a darkness beneath the walls of Winterfell.

Lady Stark reined Tempest to an abrupt halt at the sight of the massive host of warriors beneath her castle. Ser Harwyn and the knights pulled up their mounts to a sudden stop as well, their horses neighing and pacing anxiously.

The sound of Y/N’s heart echoed through her mind as hot fever crept up her neck. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Gods,” gasped Lady Stark soundlessly as more raindrops began to fall but her gaze was set on the horizon.

Y/N's heels nudged Tempest’s belly as she urged her on with haste. They fell into a gallop so swift that Lady Stark’s hair escaped her pearl-embroidered net and floated freely in the wind. The castle approached quickly yet not nearly quickly enough. Tempest’s long muscular legs outran the other mounts who carried knights clad in heavy armour. Lady Y/N passed through the winter town, nearly knocking down a man and his flour cart in her haste. The sound of Tempest’s horseshoes against the cobblestones of the castle echoed in Y/N’s ears along with the wild beating of her own heart.

Lady Stark reached the innermost courtyard as thick raindrops began to fall in the thousands. As Y/N reined Tempest in, the young mare nearly rose to her hind legs. Tempest paced restlessly and snorted loudly as her breathless mistress sat frozen in her saddle. Y/N’s eyes found her husband standing beneath the stone canopy of the castle’s entrance, his formidable grey eyes awaiting the sight of the approaching rider.

Y/N’s breathing was loud and laboured as heavy rain fell down her face. Thunder echoed through the sky as Lord Stark came out to her. A stableboy rushed in and took the reins of Lady Stark’s mount. Cregan’s arms went to his wife’s waist as he lifted her from her saddle and helped her down. Y/N’s hands gripped onto Cregan’s arms, holding him tightly. To her, he looked the same as the day he left her. Her eyes welled with hot tears as heavy rain poured on the both of them.

“Is it really you?” asked Y/N, tears falling down her cheeks. Her body trembled. “Are you … Are you really back?”

Cregan watched her beautiful eyes, deep like pools with hope and longing. “It’s me,” he spoke as his large sword-calloused hand caressed her cheek, the tip of his thumb brushing across her lips. Cregan leaned in and kissed her desperately, having dreamed of this moment for what seemed to him a hundred years. His arms locked around Y/N’s waist, her feet no longer touching the floor. Even as they reached for air, their lips returned to one another’s, not being able to let go of each other’s bodies.

“Father,” said a small, breathless voice yet it was the only voice that could make the Lord and Lady of Winterfell tear away from each other.

Rickon stood beneath the stone canopy, not being able to believe his eyes either.

“Father!” called Rickon and ran out into the summer rain, his arms wrapping around his father’s neck. Cregan picked up his son and held the boy close to him, his heart aching with the time he had missed fighting for a crown he did not care for.

“Did you look after your mother, son?” asked Cregan against his son’s hair. Rickon pulled away, his big grey eyes meeting his father’s as he smiled.

“I did,” said Rickon proudly, “And I looked after Sarra too.”

Cregan turned to Y/N with Rickon securely in his arms. His grey eyes were drenched with guilt and love so profound he did not know how he was able to contain it in his chest.

“I would meet her,” asked Cregan, his voice soft as he stole another kiss from his wife. She took his hand and nodded as they got away from the rain.

Sarra was down for an afternoon sleep when Y/N showed Cregan to her nursery. The wetnurse stood up and bowed, startled as she saw the Lord of Winterfell had returned.

"Leave us please," Lady Stark gave her a small smile. The wetnurse bowed again and left the Lord and Lady of Winterfell with their daughter.

Cregan knelt beside Sarra’s small bed, his heart ripping into a thousand small pieces. A shaky breath escaped his lungs as he caressed his daughter’s soft hair from her face.

“She is so beautiful,” whispered Cregan, unable to take his eyes off Sarra. “She looks just like you.”

Y/N ran her hand across Cregan’s broad shoulders as she stood beside him, her heart filled with so much happiness it brought tears to her eyes. The Gods listened to her prayers.

Cregan took Y/N’s palm and kissed it as rain dripped off her long hair. He looked up at her. She looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

“I missed you, my love,” said Cregan as he stood up, his hands cupping Y/N’s cheeks. “I always dreamed of you.” He caressed Y/N's face gently with his thumbs, his gaze memorizing her beautiful eyes. Cregan kissed his wife tenderly.

[ravenna-reid]

The Jade Ghost

Blue Spirit Zuko x Bloodbender Reader

This story is completely different to what I usually do, but I've been watching Avatar: The Last Airbender lately and really hope ya'll love Zuko as much as I do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was insufferable. Zuko, the crowned prince of the fire nation, was now a fugitive and stuck in some sort of village begging for spare change on the ground with Uncle Iroh. If that wasn't embarrassing enough, those who decided to mock him and his uncle made it all the more worse, the deep, unsettling anger within him turning into an unhinged rage. So he waited.

And when the sun would set and the darkness came to help hide Zuko's doings, he adorned his blue mask. The oxtail sabers in each hand felt good, like he'd gained some sort of control over his situation. Then he'd prowl through the night as though he was a ghost. The Blue Spirit. Taking change and food from those that looked like they had enough, or taking revenge on those that had mocked him or his uncle. He'd swiftly managed to throw one of the men that spat at Iroh into a wooden barrel. Splinters decorated the floor as well as the change the man had taken from them earlier in the day. Zuko grabbed the gold pieces and slipped them into his pocket. As he turned down the street, an opulent looking home being his next target, a blurred figure metres before him quickly caught his attention.

Zuko ducked his head to the side, just missing a dagger as it found its home in the wooden beam beside his head. Zuko turned on his heel to see three hooded men coming his way, armed and ferocious. He was able to swiftly disarm the first thug, throwing him into the wall of a nearby home. The other two put up a better fight. Zuko was focused on pinning the second ones arms, given he happened to be an Earthbender, but focusing his attention on the man almost made him forget the third thug. As Zuko turned and expected the blow to his head, something glinted in the air. Flashed as quick as a light. A swoosh sound came after it and the third man hit the ground hard.

Zuko dealt a devastating strike to the Earthbender before training his attention onto another person. Someone new. Adorned in an emerald green robe, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, a single gold chop stick running through it. Her face, however, was concealed. An immaculate mask that looked as though it was carved from jade sat on her face, a mask almost similar to Zuko's. Steady eyes watched the third man through the jade mask as she spun a long, gold staff between her fingers. Her eyes flickered up to Zuko though, and he barely caught what she said. "Behind you."

The Earthbender was on his feet and tore two large boulders from the pavement either side of him. Zuko slipped past each boulder as they were thrown at him. After that, Zuko's next movements were a blur as he, the two thugs, and the Jade Ghost all fought relentlessly. She seemed to be helping, so he let her help...for now.

The Earthbender managed to get his first hit of the night and knocked both Zuko and the Jade Ghost to the ground. Zuko was on his feet, ready to attack yet again, but then something happened. Something odd. Something Zuko couldn't explain.

The Earthbender's arms twitched before they tangled together. Then, with an agonising cry he dropped to the ground. Zuko's eyes cut over to the girl that laid beside him. Focus was evident in her eyes as she manoeuvred her hands in a fascinating way. Hand flat, resting in the centre of her face before she lowered her arm and moved it in a wave like formation. Zuko clutched onto his sabers. Felt his hot, laboured breath against his mask. The Earthbender suddenly fell unconscious...and then Zuko realised.

Bloodbending.

The Jade Ghost panted as she got to her feet and picked up her staff. Turning to run, she was met with the ocean blue dragon mask. He was tall, dressed in black, ready for a confrontation as he gripped onto his sabers. The Jade Ghost just stopped herself before bumping into him.

"Who are you?" He asked, tone severe.

"Hey, I'm not asking you questions. Am I?"

"I suggest you answer." He threatened.

"Listening, I've been watching you. You're not bad...you've helped a lot of my people whilst wearing your little mask. Like me. So how about this..."

She slipped down an alleyway and with the shake of his head, Zuko quickly followed. She didn't want a confrontation, not when the sun was soon to rise and she didn't see the man in the mask as a threat.

As she sprinted and took the chance to look over her shoulder, relief spread through her chest. The Blue Spirit wasn't there. But suddenly, he was jumping down from a nearby roof. He grabbed onto her as he dropped down, and the pair tumbled over the ground before coming to a stop. The Jade Ghost tried her staff before it was knocked from her hands. Then, she resorted to using hand-to-hand combat. The strikes were fast and precise, but Zuko was just as fast and precise as her. She slipped his arm behind his back and put him in a hold before he broke out and pinned her against the wall.

Masks centimetres from each other, he leant in to ask another question.

"That was bloodbending, wasn't it?"

"Wanna find out?" She hissed.

His determination faltered. They stood and watched each other, and Zuko felt something he couldn't ignore. What was it? Was he impressed? Was he admiring her? He almost wanted to hit his head against the wall.

Suddenly, a light, green dust was thrown into his face. An irritable itch began in his eyes as he quickly let go of her. And just like that, she slipped away into the night. Just like a ghost. As he tried to search for her, Zuko quickly became annoyed. Dumbfounded. Curious.

Zuko made it back to the sorry place him and his uncle were calling 'home' for a while, hiding his mask and sabers inside of a deep crevice in the house they were staying in.

"Where did you go?" Iroh asked, sipping his fourth cup of tea as he watched his nephew angrily enter the room. The sun was filtering into the room, it's beams warm and welcoming.

"I had to clear my head. Tell me uncle, do you know anything about the Jade Ghost?"

"The Jade Ghost? Hmm," His uncle stroked his beard as he sifted through his memories. "Nope, never heard of him."

"Her." Zuko corrected as he stared out the window and wondered where she went. Who she was. How she learnt to bloodbend.

"Until next time Jade Ghost."

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (5/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: the angst, sexual tension, targcest stuff, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, mention of murder ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

I will treat you like my little sister.

He had no idea what had crossed his mind to say something so pathetic and absurd – he thought at that moment that he had to find a way to make her choose him, not Daemon, at the time of the trial.

Since her father had abandoned her, he would let her stay by his side, since her father had denied her her inheritance, he would let her be part of it, since her father did not want her to be part of his family, he would let her become it in his eyes.

Until they win the war.

He didn't know what he would do with her afterwards, once they had defeated his sister – she might begin to demand more, putting pressure on him, threatening that she had a dragon she could always take away from them.

He thought, trying to quell the inner feeling of guilt, that he might have to kill her.

Now, however, she had to love what he could give her.

What he could be for her.

He was sure that he had her in his grasp, that she craved him both spiritually and physically, that she would become a docile shadow of herself just to satisfy him.

She, however, once again acted as if nothing had happened.

Neither the way he had shamelessly touched her nor what he had said to her allowed the wall she had built between herself and him to collapse – worse, he had the feeling that for some reason she had closed herself in even deeper.

Walking with him through the valleys, she remained silent, not even bestowing a single glance on him, thoughtful and focused on her task.

She walked a few steps behind him – she did not seek his proximity, she did not try to start a conversation, she did not do what the ladies of the court did, hoping to fall to the fate of the prince's wife.

This made him feel uneasy and uncomfortable – he had the feeling that he had made a fool of himself and she had seen through his plan.

He wondered if this was all a good idea, or if maybe he should pull out his dagger and just kill her, instead finding someone else in her place, someone who would be easier to manipulate.

And then they heard it.

A screech in the skies.

They both fell to the ground as a large, dark dragon flew over their heads, landing in a valley not far away, burning several sheep beforehand that had tried to flee from it in terror.

They started to run in that direction, clambering down the stones, stopping only when the dragon's head turned towards them, concerned.

He looked at her and swallowed hard, watching with some kind of admiration as she moved towards the creature, several times her own size, without any hesitation.

A male dragon the size of Meleys, he thought with satisfaction.

He could fight and make a difference, protecting him and Vhagar.

The dragon roared squeakily, opening his maw, tense, ready to breathe fire, her hand extended forward.

"Daor!" She called out.

The dragon hesitated, the red flame in his maw extinguished, but he continued to hiss, shifting on his paws closer and closer to her, as if considering whether to devour her.

"Lykirī!" She said and, to his surprise, crouched down on the ground, still keeping her hand stretched forward.

The dragon stopped in his half-step, as bewildered as he was.

What the fuck was she doing?

She was supposed to get on its back, not sit down.

However, the dragon seemed intrigued. He closed his maw and leaned forward as if to sniff her – she sat with her legs crossed, placing her hands on her thighs, simply looking at him.

"Lykirī." She repeated, and the dragon croaked, however in a different way than before. He walked sideways around her and circled her figure, making a strange high-pitched sounds, and she watched him the whole time, a wide smile on her lips.

"What are you doing?" He asked loudly, feeling his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

He hadn't burned her yet.

A good sign.

"He can't feel I'm a threat to him. When I sit I'm smaller and I don't move. He needs to get to know me." She said lightly, extending her hand towards the dragon as if she was just trying to tame the dog – the dragon extended its muzzle towards her slightly, but did not touch her, instead gushing warm steam from his nostrils at her.

She laughed.

Gods, they didn't have time for this.

"Try to mount him." He commanded, seeing with excitement that this beautiful beast with spikes on its back seemed to accept her.

He will return to King's Landing with two dragons.

He will win this fucking war.

His cousin gave him a stern look from above her furrowed brows and shook her head as if she thought he was a fool.

"That's what gets people like you killed. Lack of patience." She said with an anger from which he felt himself boil inside. He moved at her suddenly, furious, making the dragon step back and hiss, and she rose from her place.

"– FUCKING MOUNT HIM, I SAID –" He shouted and froze as the dragon's maw aimed at him opened, the pillar of fire in his throat testifying to what he wanted to do.

"– DAOR – DAOR, SHEEPSTEALER –" She called out desperately, standing between them, extending her hand in front of her. "– Rȳbas! –"

The dragon stepped back at once and squealed, howling like a child being rebuked by its mother, writhing from side to side with its eyes fixed on him.

"– YOU SCARED HIM! –"

"– he is a dragon – how the fuck could I scare him? –" He asked in a voice trembling with rage thinking that she was talking some sort of tendentious feminine nonsense.

"– he was trying to protect me – he senses your lies, your hypocrisy – he knows you are deceiving me, he knows what you want – what you will do with me when it's all over –" She exclaimed to him with tears in her eyes.

He didn't know why he had lost his voice completely, looking at her with big eyes, feeling that he was quivering all over, his throat and guts clenched as if she had punched him in the stomach with her fist.

She sat down again and he stepped back, doing the same, simply watching as the dragon lay down opposite her and crawled closer, without touching her nonetheless.

For a few hours, he watched with a blank stare as she lay next to this dark beast with her arm outstretched, while the dragon rolled around her and squawked like it was a puppy.

He was trying to protect me.

He knows you are deceiving me.

What you will do with me when it's all over.

He swallowed hard, looking away.

He was doing all of this for his family.

He didn't want to kill her – he only feared she would become a threat.

A problem.

And with those, he didn't know what to do.

The easiest way was for them to just disappear.

He shuddered when he heard her footsteps, the dragon behind her squealed, but stayed where he was.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rising with her, escorting her away with his eye as she walked past him without a word.

"That's enough for today." She said, and he felt his jaw clench in rage and regret.

Now she was going to give him orders?

"You are to mount him."

"I will." She threw over her shoulder.

He clenched his eyes, shaking his head and cursed under his breath, following her to Vhagar's lair.

They didn't have time for this.

He watched with indifferent eyes as she, a woman, did what had been a man's task and vocation for centuries – with a sharply pointed stick she threw into the water she hunted for fish while he ate what he took with him.

When she returned, welted and pink with exertion, he watched as, with the knife he had used to cut bread, she cut off the heads of the fish and began to scrape the scales from them.

She rubbed some herbs into them that she had probably found along the way, and then impaled each one on a stick, which she rested on top of two others over the hearth so as not to burn them.

Curls of her dark hair that were not braided clung to her sweaty red cheeks, her lashes even longer in the flames of the fire, her irises infinitely black but not empty, filled with something he did not understand.

They were silent – all around them only the sizzle each time she added wood to the hearth and turned the stick of fish to roast them properly on all sides.

When she thought they were ready, she took out two wooden bowls and slid them into it.

He swallowed hard as she handed him one of them without a word, herself placing the other between her crossed legs, tearing pieces of meat from the bones with her fingers.

"I didn't poison them." She said softly, putting the bite into her mouth, swallowing it at last without even giving him a single glance.

As much as he wanted to think of it that way, her attitude wasn't aggressive or defiant – on the contrary, he had the feeling that something inside her had faded.

He lowered his gaze, shamefully grabbing a piece of fish and, like her, tore off a piece of meat, putting it in his mouth. It was tasty; the herbs she had rubbed into it added a pleasant, salty flavour, the meat was crispy and melted in his mouth.

For some reason he felt tears under his eyelids.

He was furious with himself for being so pathetic.

Even though he knew she was freezing, she lay alone on the other side, covering herself with one of the blankets as soon as she finished her meal.

Some part of himself kept telling him that he had a right to do this, that he had a right to think of her this way, to use her as his brother-king had used him.

However, another whispered that he was disgusting, that if his mother knew what he planned to do she would look at him with disappointment and pain from which his heart would break.

He couldn't be both the caring, sensitive son and the cold, shrewd prince who would protect them from falling.

Like his mother, brother and sister, he simply wanted to live and hold in his hands what was rightfully his.

He looked at her, her figure curled up from the cold, her small hands clenched into fists, and felt ashamed.

I will treat you like my little sister.

I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side.

He felt embarrassment because some part of him wanted this.

To have his little sister, a copy of his mother, who at the same time would not be his mother, but someone only his, his destiny, his relief, his solace, warm, gentle hands, soft, plump breasts between which he could cuddle his face and hide if only for a moment, the scent and warmth he so longed for but could never ask for.

Not out loud.

His body lay down behind her on its own, embraced her on its own, hugging her to his chest, wrapping the second blanket around them, his fingers tightening on their own around her shoulders, his face sinking on its own into the crook of her fragrant neck.

He closed his eyes and felt her gasp as his manhood pulsed hard, pushing against her buttocks, his hands ran over her wrist up to her fingers, entwining them together.

He felt a squeeze in his throat, felt painful tears under his eyelids, felt his eyebrows arch in the pathetic despair that was his realisation that he was alone because he had so decided, over and over again humiliating himself by chasing a simple tender embrace.

He heard her draw in a loud breath as his erection swelled all over, pulsing and twitching even harder, her fingers tightening on his as if she was afraid of what he wanted to do.

"Sleep." He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling a single tear run down the side of his face to the ground, his thumb stroking the soft skin of her hand.

I'm sorry, he thought, but no words left his throat.

I'm sorry, but I can't do it any other way.

The next day they waited by one of the herds, watching the shepherds and their flock from above, hoping, surely to their despair, that Sheepstealer would arrive, encouraged by the vision of a feast.

"DRAGON!!!!!" Shouted one of them, pointing a finger upwards – they both looked to the side and saw a shadow pass over them like an arrow – the men managed to dodge to the side and run away, however, several sheep were burned on the spot.

They both ran downhill, but this time he let her go ahead, surprisingly sure of what she wanted to do.

He decided, albeit reluctantly, that he would try to be patient and give her another day.

To his surprise, the dragon seemed overjoyed by her presence – he cackled high and swished his tail, then moved the carcass of one of the sheep towards her with his head, apparently wanting to share his meal with her.

She laughed, shaking her head, sitting down on the ground again.

"Daor. Daor." She said, but Sheepstealer didn't seem to understand what she meant after all, as he threw the leftover burnt bones and meat into her lap, looking at her expectantly.

She swallowed hard, tore a piece of meat off the bone and put it in her mouth, looking straight into the beast's eyes.

The dragon, as soon as she did so, fell to the ground and stared at her as if it was observing something beautiful. When she reached out her hand to him he put his muzzle out and let her touch him.

He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling relieved.

Feeling pride.

His cousin shifted to the dragon on her knees, and he watched with interest as she came to his side, placing her hand on his back – he felt his heart beat quickly when the dragon made no movement, the sound it made from its throat gentle, as if encouraging her to do it.

As soon as she had managed to get on his back, Sheepstealer rose, spread his wings and soared into the sky.

He gasped in disbelief, hearing her squeal and laugh, seeing her circling around them, wondering if she would burn him now for everything he had done to her.

She could have done that.

He was defenceless.

But after a short ride she commanded him to land in the same place, and as soon as she slid to the ground she fell to her knees.

She was panting heavily, staring at the clouds as if she was thanking the gods in her mind that she had survived this.

"I did it." She said, picking herself up from the ground and walked towards him, her face flooded with tears of happiness and disbelief. "Gods, I did it."

She stood in front of him, looking at him with her big doe eyes, for some reason looking more beautiful than ever, all welted and glistening with sweat, her lips swollen with emotion, her dark lashes with tear drops shining like stars.

"Take me home." She breathed out, and he felt a squeeze in his heart at her words, a pain, as if she had stuck a needle in his chest.

Take me home.

She didn't move away when he approached her, when his hand sank into her soft hair at the back of her head, when his forehead pressed against hers, his gaze fixed on her dark eyes.

She stroked his wrist and closed her eyelids as if she wanted to remember this moment – he did the same, concentrating on her scent, the pleasant cool breeze on his heated cheeks, the closeness that wasn't stolen or taken by force.

He stepped back and nodded, her hand stroking his arm as his thumb ran over the line of her jaw.

His little sister.

Only what he'd experienced when he'd tamed Vhagar could compare to the feeling of pride that filled his chest when he'd returned to King's Landing with not one dragon, but two.

He knew that the sight of them, together, gliding through the skies had spread throughout the keep even before they reached it on horseback from Vhagar's lair.

As soon as they crossed the fortress walls, one of the guards announced to him that the King had called a meeting of the Small Council, at which he and their cousin were to appear to report on how their mission had performed.

He stepped into the chamber confidently, upright, with his chin held high, feeling the weight of what he had done, what he had achieved on his shoulders, knowing that he had perhaps determined the fate of the war while his brother sat idly in the Red Keep.

He sat down in his chair and stretched comfortably in his seat, placing one of his hands on the table top, looking the King straight in the eye.

Aegon smiled and nodded.

"I have heard of your success, brother. Bravo. Our cousin has returned victoriously on the back of a dragon." He said, and he smirked, feeling satisfaction rather than blood flow through his veins.

"Indeed. Sheepstealer is the size of Meleys. He's still untamed and unfamiliar with warfare, but it's a matter of practice." He replied calmly, glancing at his mother out of the corner of his eye, hoping to see pride and warmth in her gaze, just what he needed.

She, however, looked at him with fear, her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in worry.

He felt a tightening in his throat, his hand clenched into a fist.

Why?

Why didn't he deserve at least one gentle look from her?

"We will hold a feast in your honour, brother. And, of course, our courage-filled cousin." The King said, and he pressed his lips together, thinking that his brother was a complete imbecile.

"You will organise a feast when our subjects are starving?" He hissed with anger and frustration, not understanding how he could come up with such ideas and spout them with such ease, without thinking, without analysing the situation, whether it was appropriate.

Aegon grunted loudly, clearly displeased with his harsh response.

"It will be a small feast. You will have another reason to celebrate. Your betrothed, Lady Floris Baratheon, concerned that her beloved prince has set out on a solitary expedition with an unmarried woman has written a letter to our mother demanding an explanation. I thought it best if you, in your own person, explained your reasons to her. She is heading for King's Landing."

He stared at him dully feeling that he had suddenly gone deaf, his heart in his throat.

She is heading for King's Landing.

"NO, VHAGAR! NO!" he heard himself shout, the figure of his nephew and his dragon disappearing into Vhagar's maw with Luke's loud, childish cry.

He could only watch as the remains of their bodies fell from the sky.

"Fear not, brother." His brother continued, snapping him out of his reverie. "You have done your part – now the Crown will take care of our cousin and her dragon, and you will devote yourself to softening the heart of your beloved."

What?

"She's not ready yet." He muttered, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad in his chest.

He wanted to take her away from him.

"Did you fuck her?"

He froze, as did the rest of those present at the table, their mother shaking her head, horrified and heartbroken.

"Aegon."

"They spent three nights alone in the cold. I need to know if anything happened to my cousin during that time that she might be afraid to speak of of her own accord. We all know what my brother is capable of when he acts in a rage." He said lightly, throwing him a bored, cold look that made him feel like vomiting.

"I didn't touch her." He hissed, leaning over the table.

"There are rumours among Lord Lannister's servants that contradict your words." He said in a raised voice, making his eye open wide in horror.

"What rumours?" He scoffed through clenched teeth.

Fucking fool.

I'll personally cut out his tongue, he thought.

"I will not quote them out of respect for my cousin and you, my brother." He said, and he burst into a low, cold laugh, feeling his whole body quiver.

"So they are mere slanders. Gossip. You judge me by your measure." He hummed in a voice drenched with sweet poison, grinning broadly.

"The Maester can see who is right. Does he not, cousin?" Aegon asked her, and he glanced over his shoulder, seeing her eyes open wide in horror, her hands clasped in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive posture.

Gods, what if she had lied to him?

If she was not a maiden?

"No, Aegon. I do not permit you or anyone in this room to humiliate her in such a manner." Queen Alicent protested.

"No." She spoke up suddenly, and all those gathered looked at her. "I have nothing to hide. The Maester can examine me."

He circled the chamber in fury, angry and bitter, glancing again and again towards the bed with the curtains covering each side, feeling both anger and remorse that she had to go through this.

It was her fault.

They were humiliating her because of him.

She had wanted it herself, fucking whore.

He himself had let her understand that he wanted to watch.

He wanted to watch, hoping it would end very differently.

That he would be the one to do this to her.

His brother, his mother and his lords were all looking at him, as if they had already prejudged the fact that he was guilty, that he had done this, that he was even worse than everyone had predicted.

He felt like crouching down, hiding his face in his hands and bursting out crying, mumbling that he hadn't done it.

He wanted to, but he didn't.

He shuddered as the Maester stepped out from behind the curtains, her sad, red face flashing before him for a moment, her gaze lowered in regret.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt." He said, and he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, feeling a wonderful relief full of satisfaction.

Praise be to the gods.

He left, not looking at the bewildered faces of his mother and brother, not wanting to hear their explanations or apologies, the false words that it meant nothing.

Only when the door of his quarters closed behind him, when he sat down alone in his chair did he lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hide his face in his hands and burst into tears.

His brother pretending to greet him like a hero, pretending to appreciate what he had done at the same time humiliated him, taking away his credit, his pride and her.

His little sister.

[ghouldump]

✧ iwtv imagines

everything is gn!reader or fem!reader.

poc friendly !!

if requesting, please provide a generic summary, to give me an idea.

please follow for more, your support is appreciated.

002

beautiful deception

moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.

beautiful deception, untold truth

remembering the truth sometimes hurts, but perhaps love will prevail

bring me back to life

when he discovers something new, rejuvenating him from anything that has happened, and now he has to have her

teacher’s pet

hunting with armand as his new lovely fledgling and companion.

to be loved

idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to paris, and meet your soulmate.

ride the dragon

during the anticipated interview, daniel didn’t expect louis to have such an alluring companion

001 002 003

anything for you ii

all he wants is for you to be his perfect companion, yet you keep chasing the fleeting things of life.

as you are | bi!reader

cuddling together, the two of you share your experiences with past lovers.

come to me

lestat is willing to do anything to get his companion back, even if it means revealing his identity to the entire world.

diva

lestat is a handful to tour with but he's also incredibly handsome and charismatic.

fallen

princess of demacia, a marine kingdom is temporarily banished. she refuses to conform to the standard, being a heartless killer. wandering the water, she finds herself in new orleans, where she meets a vampire.

fangirl

meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well.

love me | bi!reader

as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.

masquerade

even with your horrific background, he fell deeply for your heart.

pretty when you cry | bi!reader

when you are hunting, focused on your prey, you don't even realize how beautiful you look to lestat.

spider and the fly

when lestat uses louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.

sweet rapture | bi!reader

lestat is a firm believer that as a vampire, your very existence is about pleasure, but for the first time, he meets someone who shares this belief, even beyond his standards.

the miseducation of vampire lestat | series

The story of a forbidden love, when the young upcoming singer gets herself tangled in the dark world of the rockstar, Lestat. He is too captivating to leave, despite everyone’s efforts to keep the relationship from happening. However, the longer you are close to the brat prince, allowing him to consume your thoughts, the more you realize none of them — not a single one of them, actually knew anything genuine about him.

the night is ours

being awakened, naturally you go to your old love, only to find that he is now a rockstar, perhaps now you can have the happily ever after you both once wanted.

thicker than water

you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

trick or treat

sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise

tu es mon autre

he never thought he would meet someone who brought back such familiar feelings.

your best nightmare

being away from your companion, as both of you take on stardom, can be frustrating, but it is very rewarding to see your maker for the first time in months.

if only for one night

initially finding out about the de pointe du lac’s interest, you wanted to steer clear of him, until you accidentally ran into him and changed your entire perception

all i ask of you | loustat x reader

when lestat takes matters into his own hands, leaving louis to sit in his regret of not complying with your wishes.

back in my arms | loustat x reader

time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

forever young | loustat x reader

you meet someone who reminds you of your maker, and naturally gravitate to them, but your family isn't as welcoming to the idea of the man.

for the love of a daughter | loustat x reader

out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late

god complex | loustat x reader

you want out, realizing your little family isn't as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.

l’amour de ma vie | loustat x reader

while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

trust | loumand x reader

born for stardom, but destined for chaos, the last thing you ever expected was for two old vampires to become your companions.

[aly4khq]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 - ♕♕♕

♕♕♕- 𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻, 𝔃𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮, 𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓵, 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼

ꜱᴜᴍ: as the empress, you hold a strict title and don't take any bs from anyone. but who knows what happens once you are face to face with someone you've been crushing/investigating over.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: fluff, a little crying

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: around 1K-1.5K for each

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this somehow took me ages to write like always, once i finish xavier's, i don't wanna do zayne, then i get to rafayel and i don't want to do sylus 🤦🏾‍♀️

↳ 𝚇𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁 - you are the empress of Philos. (wc. 1200)

as you sat upon your throne, gazing at the group of bowed down princes at your feet, your mind ran overtime about the possible future husband you'd be destined to marry. the array of young men wishing to be the lover to the one and only Empress of Philos, wishing to be married to you. and with a sharp dismissal ticked off their future dreams of become an emperor.

your clothing consisted of w silk white material, wrapped around your lower waist but a golden bands, the material flowing down to your ankle. your chest held a criss-cross design which was designed with an aurelian coating. there were matching neck and wrist bands along with it, your hair flowed down your shoulder in bouncy curls.

many dukes, princes and even future kings have come to request to be on the list of your marriage. but every single one hasn't been up to your standards. after every introduction, you would visibly shrivelled in disgust at the sight of them all.

after realising that you were thinking to yourself, the next prince arose and walked up one step to your throne. once he was perched on the golden step, you expected the lad to sit down only for him to pose and speak with confidence. "greetings your highness, as it is i!—"

"absolutely not," you interrupted with a scoff and a mocking laugh, your hand waving him off. the face that he had nearly make you promote him to a jester, his whole aura had changed to one of confusion, he spoke with a tinge of melancholy. "but...but your majesty—"

this action earned him an eyebrow raise from you, your eyes narrowing, "are you defying me?" the whole room fell with fear as the man gulped at your serious torn, his body lowering as he knelt back down to his original position. "...apologies your majesty..."

you moved on, nodding your head at the guard to let the next person in. which they did, walking inside with a smug expression. his hands held his hips before he lowered to a bow as he spoke with a thick accent, "greetings your majesty, i am sir arthur smith, commander of the army..."

as he went on with his introduction, you scoffed, 'so he's from the north huh?'. despite his obviously proud and humble tone, you could tell that this particular person would be a problem to dismiss. he spoke once more with a wink, "would you like me to be your lovely husband?"

"no, not really." your answer was blunt, as he instantly dropped his whole attitude to one of rage. "pardon?" his tone dripped with disbelief, his hands clenched as he rose from his kneel. "i said no, exit my palace."

a huff came from the man below as he looked you up and down, "how dare you...how dare you to deny me? do you know who i am?" the guards and servant who were in the room nearly disintegrated at the sentence itself. no one goes against the empress, and definitely no one challenges you either.

your head tilted towards the man as you felt a burning sensation in your chest, the room's tension was enough to slice his head off before you did. "excuse me?" your hand pushed your body off of the throne you sat on, the rich materials of your attire fell in a satisfying manner. your golden bands clicking, your heels slowly dropping down the steps to that man.

"repeat that," you ordered, your tone calming despite the fire in your heart. your hand on your hips. the man below soon realised his mistake, his hand lifted as he tried to bargain with you, "wait...your majesty i was just!—"

your hand lifted to ever so angrily murder the man in front of you, your evol slowly protruding out of your hand before a hand gently held your wrist. "your majesty, you shouldn't get your hands spoiled on some lowlife." the voice itself soothed your heart, it was xavier.

despite being known as a serious title, your admiration for your personal knight has grown over the years. he was strong, handsome and even had the most squeezable face ever.

and even the feeling of his hand on your was enough to make a grown woman fold, your cheeks flushed with admiration and weakness. your head lifted up to see his face in glory, which was surprisingly also flustered. his pale cheeks slightly pink from being in such proximity of you, a feeling of submission running through his veins. "it...would be my pleasure to escort him out of here, your majesty."

both of you stared into each other's eyes, feeling the warmth grown in between you before the sounds of the man in front of you entered our ears. "ahem...? hello?" how dare such a disgusting man disturb you and your knight's experience together, both of you diverted your head to glare at the prince who stood at your feet. your eyes narrowed as you spoke with hatred. your foot lifted and pressed against his boot, releasing a loud cry of pain.

"may i remind you why you stand below me, kneel to your empress." the man — not wanting to disobey you any longer — lowering to his knees. you held a demanding eye contact with him before you scoffed, turning to xavier. "indeed you are right, take care of this man." your tone softened just slightly as you dropped your hand, walking back to the throne that you arose from. he nodded, his eyes visibly softening before they turned to the man. his hand taking out the sharp light blade from his waistband. "of course, your majesty."

and in one fell swoop, a flash of light came from xavier as that prince was sliced in many places and teleported somewhere else. his expression of sternness send waves straight to your stomach, your eyes travelled from his silvery hair to his luscious lips...then to his body when the same majestic man caught your attention.

"your majesty?" he called for you as you thought to yourself, and with a smile growing you spoke. "stand beside that man there xavier." with a confusion but obedient look, he followed your orders, standing in a formal manner beside the many princes who knelt there. his expression only lasting on your presence that sat on the chair.

as the room became as silent as a mouse, your body rose from the throne, holding the king's crown. everyone was waiting to hear their name speak out from your voice. xavier's own head lowered in anticipation, hoping that you'd go with the safer option.

"i, empress of Philos and the giver of life and death, have come to a conclusion for the future emperor of this kingdom. as 8 men laid below, there'll only be one staying in this palace for life does us eternity." you watched as xavier's face tensed in confusion, 8 men? there was only 7 who managed to get through to you. but it took seconds for him to click in his mind.

"a man who's submitted his submission to me years ago, a man who has already shown me his trust and honesty through his years of hard work," a deep pause of silence crept into the room, a little quiver coming from the guards who surrounded your throne, also awaiting with curiosity.

"xavier, stand and receive your crown." your voice bloomed in the echoey space, the sounds of xavier sucking in a breath as he lifted his head. he walked towards you before kneeling once again. you placed the crown on his head, and ass it connected, the placeholder of your star shaped gem shone with light.

"...thank you, your majesty." he spoke with sincerity as you looked down at the man with a grin. your left hand clicked to the other guards and knights in the room, "escort the rest out, and don't return to this room until further notice, your empress and emperor need to spend some time together."

↳ 𝚉𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴: you are the empress of another kingdom, zayne wants you to join his own empire. (wc. 1,111)

you sat in front of your highly decorated vanity, staring into the oval mirror that was placed on top of it. the day's stress slowly exiting your mind as you relaxed your muscles from all the adventures you did today for your kingdom. but there was one thing you couldn't stop wondering about. the foreseer's frequent letters.

"what emperor seeks to an empress about his own selfish desires?" you complained to your head maid with slight annoyance and confusion, your hands taking off your now frozen gloves— sculpted because of your anger towards this man. the hairband that ties your hair in a bun gracefully fell as the pristine white locks followed, just landing at your chest. a deep exhale filling your ears.

"apologies if this seems offensive your majesty, but maybe he weeps to see you in person?" with a timid tone, the maid spoke behind you, helping with the hair accessories you had placed earlier today whilst also massaging your scalp from all your worries. she was one of your closest maids you've ever had, and she knows how this whole scenario has really been going. "shall i read out the other letter, your majesty?"

you scoffed, "there's another? how many letters will he send me until he finally gives up on...whatever deal he wants me to comply to?!" your hands pinched the bridge of your nose, before you waved your other hand to confirm that you'd like to hear it.

she cleared her throat before speaking, "my dearest jasmine, empress of my heart, my wishes only relate to your presence. you have brightened my own flower, perched on my tower as i await for your response. my love, my dear, respond to my call and meet me at fall."

that message alone made you feel...loved, the poetic rhythm intoxicating to your heart as you let out a unsure breath. despite your sheer ignorance to it, someone else could easily catch on to your—

"love! he's in love, your majesty!" she exclaimed with happiness for you, which to returned with a whine. "i can see that." who knew that such a high titled man could be head over heels for you, especially someone who is considered as a semi-god to every kingdom in the world.

"i think it's time for me to sleep this silliness away, my bed calls me." your delicate hands placed your gloves neatly on your desk, your legs waddling over to your precious, triple sized bed. "you're dismissed," you spoke to the maid as she nodded, packing away the contents of your wash bag with delicate hands and tie it with the finest ribbon that you had received from — unsurprisingly — zayne. she placed it gently beside the mirror before turning to you, assisting you in putting on your bonnet before bowing once more and walking towards the door that awaited her.

"good night your majesty." she whispered back to you before leaving your room, making sure to gently shut the large doors. her footsteps disappearing down the hallways. meanwhile, the duvets were submerging your body while your eyes closed, a deep sigh coming from your mouth as you let everything die out onto your pillow.

the soft sounds of the night travelled through your window; tweets of birds flying around endlessly without a care, the sounds of the many animals also taking themselves to bed, the crickets alerting you that it was indeed late, and the sounds of your doors opening once more.

...wait a minute.

your body shot up, instantly looking in the direction of your door. but a figure, dressed in the rich attire blocked your way. clothing you're way too familiar with. with slight fear, you stared up at the man, your hand instantly shot out to strangle the man with your evol when that same hand held your wrist.

"hush, my dear, i came to see you." a deep but very calming voice pushed away the silence, that same hands gently pulled you upwards to his chest. just as you stared to admire who it obviously was, the moonlight shone through your window...illuminating the face of the foreseer.

"...zayne.." you held an intense gaze before you narrows yours in anger. your other hand hitting his chest. "you idiot! who in their right mind would sneak up on an empress like that!?" you yelled out, only because he gave you the fright of your life.

with a deep chuckle, his other hand swiftly went to your back, lifting you bridal style as you let out a little gasp at the sudden change of balance. "let me go!" his grip was firm, giving you the impression that he wouldn't be leaving without you.

"we'll be arriving at my throne in a little, i've, quite frankly, gotten tired of not seeing my love in person." whilst he let your room, you saw the head maid winking at you from her room before disappearing. a sigh escaped your mouth, this was gonna be a long night...and the journey was even more exciting and interesting. he was telling you stories on why and how he even managed to fall in love when you are fork two different kingdoms. which all lied in one thing.

"when we were children, at a grand ball, i noticed you from miles away. your aura was intoxicating, and you looked so beautiful. i couldn't take my eyes off you the whole night. but when i went to tell you that, you had disappeared." your face softened at the thought. "i looked, for many many years to find you, and every time i did, you'd—" he paused before speaking in a softer tone. "you'd somehow escape and someone else managed to charm your interest before i did. but i put in work for years and here you are in my arms."

he continued, "i sent you those letters because my parents did not allow me to exit the palace, until i finally explained why i wanted to do dearly." his hands held you tighter as he readjusted your position so you were hugging his neck, your chest against his. his eyes stared into yours, and you could see the galaxy rested in his.

you began to feel sleep take over your eyes, you dozing off for a good minute but you fought it, you had too. but his deep chuckle managed to wake you up more as his hands rose, pressing your head agaisnt the crook of his neck. his chin rested above your hair. "sleep, my dove. i've lost you multiple times but i'll never let you go again."

and by the time you made it to his throne, sleep had taken you easily. your head rested against his shoulder, a long navy blue cape around your smaller body. he spoke with sincerity, "i ever so love you, my empress."

↳ 𝚁𝙰𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙻: you are the goddess of Lemuria (wc. 1102)

deep in the waves of the ocean, you sat at the throne that was filled with many seas treasures that visitors, guests and mostly your beloved knight, rafayel. the same man who you ever so wished to exile just because of that bratty attitude of his. the amount of times mermen and mermaids would manage to capture the moments of you and him quarrelling in your own throne room was way too high to even count on your fingers. he was arrogant, and you were stubborn which was definitely not a very good mix to have.

despite the arguing, rafayel and you both shared moments of sincerity and admiration where he'd be flustered by the slightest look of you dressed in your wave-themed skirt wrapped around your waist and the decorative chest protection that matched his. your hypnotic hips that swayed at the sounds of your mermaids and mermen singing at every event that was held in your palace, the ever so adored palace of Lemuria.

today was a special day for you, it was the day where you'd choose your future husband, the future emperor of Lemuria. there were men from different cities and backgrounds of the kingdom who arrived at the palace's gates to try and audition to be your significant other. and you already hated the whole thing before it even started . "i don't want to do it rafayel..." you complained to your knight, your head slouched on your vanity desk as your hands laid limp in your lap, rafayel's position stood behind you. his hand working wonders on your sore, stressed muscles, his voice even softer. "then why attend? the last time i checked, you're the empress.

even though that tone was a little bratty, you let it slide just this once. with a sigh, your eyes closed at the sensation of his fingers. the whole room was engulfed with stress, tension flying through the air as you kept quiet, not wanting to reveal your melancholy to the rest of your world. "my mother requested from far lands that when she arrives from her journey i should be engaged by the least. do you understand how demanding that is?" his neutral face slowly turned to a sympathetic one, his body sitting down next to you by the desk whilst also wrapping an arm around your waist. you didn't notice it, until you feel yourself being grabbed and pulled by that same knight.

his face was barely even 5 inches away from yours, his eyes taking their time to admire your features with love. his other hands went to your cheek, gently using his thumb to caress the soft skin, his lips opening to land a kiss on your cheek. "you have to realise that you choose the person who you love, don't let any silly—"

"don't insult my mother." you snapped back, "okay! okay! i won't," he chuckled at your reaction before sharing this moment with you. his hands slowly descending down your body and to your back, you arched in impulse unknowingly bringing your face closer. your own hands rose to touch his shoulder, holding onto him with confirmation. both of you closed your eyes, leaning in to hopefully feel each other's lips pressing.

and you waited, until a soft giggle came from the man above. your eyes opened as you saw him just falling in love with your face. your frown was obviously clear, but rafayel was bluntly unaware of it. that face soon went to one of pain and confusion, when you slapped his arm in anger.

"rafayel!" "sorry! sorry!"

once you made your way to the balcony where you'd stand while the many men and woman below you kneeled at the sight of your jewellery shining in the light, a sheet of fear and dominance laced over the room. the organiser that originally made sure that everyone had arrived rose his head before speaking in a timid tone, "y-your majesty, here i present to you many civilians from far lands...shall i begin?"

the silence that followed after nearly made the organiser shit himself, feeling like he was about to get assassinated for doing something wrong until you let out a scoff. your own voice overpowered every other noise in the room, "there's been a change of plans," the Lemurians below rose their heads hesitantly, confused at what could've happened. and rafayel decided it was okay to speak, "and what's that your highness?—"

"i'm getting to it." your head snapped to rafayel who decided it was okay to speak over you, your glare enough of a reason for him to shut their lip until further notice. "people of Lemuria, i've come to a conclusion where there's a...brave, handsome, strong man who's taken my heart for his own sake." the woman all groaned and whined.

"...he is not in the line at the moment, but he shall stand where he is." the feeling of fear grew, a sudden drop of atmosphere nearly knocked you off your flats. the guards, knights and civilians all stared at one person, who you then joined.

"...hey hey hey...! why am i being gawked at?" rafayel spoke with a slight confusion in his tone, his gaze going all over that place until in his peripheral he spotted you. slowly approaching him with your hands out, you held his tightly. "rafayel," your tone dropped in sternness, becoming the softest it's ever been, your hands held together before he understood with a nod.

both of you held each other's hands as you closed your eyes, embracing the feelikg of your love swirling and interlocking between the palms of your hands. the feeling of something moving appeared, something swimming around with glee. you unclasped your hands to see a blue fish, swimming in your palms. the room feel silent, untik it erupted in cheers— quiet cheers.

"rafayel, i declare you the emperor of Lemuria, God of the Sea." finally, you both hugged deeply, his hands lifting you into the air as he spun you around. after he missed you about a hundred times, he let you down. rafayel's grin has never been bigger, his hands ruffling your hair. "he-heyyyyy! i never knew you had the hots for me?" your brown cheeks flushed a maroon tint, your shyness finally showing as he laughed at you. only to receive another hit on the arm.

"so...my empress...how about we make our way to our bedroom?" you giggled before kissing his lips once again, both of you enjoying it until you pulled away. "you absolute tease."

↳ 𝚂𝚈𝙻𝚄𝚂: you are the "empress" of the Onychinus (wc. 1,500)

in the N109 Zone, you were known as the empress, the ruler of the lands that owned to the name, every what3worfs that landed in the N109 Zone was reported back to you. any trouble was given to your office, which laid in another important person's presence. you were known for your intimidating aura, and for your mysterious appearance to nearly everyone that even approached you. there's been times where people would submit just at the sound of your dismissal to anything that they said.

this lead to a particular leader of the organisation — that you have had to work with — starting to become more aware of this 'mysterious' woman that ran around the place like a fly to another. rumours came around that you were finally coming down to the huge auction that was taking place in the new week or so. so he took action, and that man was the one and only sylus. this meant that he'd definitely be there for that particularly night.

you've heard of sylus due to the impact he has on the N109 Zone, nearly everyone was scared of him. just nearly. and the amount of times you are called the 'King and Queen' of the N109 Zone was infuriatingly high, which made you even more determined to find out who this man really was.

"kyle!" you yelled out for your fashion designer, who came into the room with a confusion look before it turned to one of confidence. his hands hovering over the dress that you wore— red, silk material dripping down your body, shaping your curves and complimenting your brown skin. the v-line was decorated in feathers along with a ruby in the middle which connected the 'V'. "ooooo, look at you, my girl!" he cheered on, fascinated at the way it worked out while you rolled your eyes. "mhm, yeah yeah, i need you for a second."

"sure thing, what's up?" he spoke quietly, "did a string come out? does it feel uncomfortable?" you let out a scoff and a laugh before looking at the back in the mirror. "no no, i was just wondering how this...brooch is supposed to be placed on the dress. normally it's on the v-like but it's decorated enough and there's no space." you explained in a confused manner, putting the brooch in between your index finger and thumb.

this brooch had been delivered to you a day or two ago, the address or the sender was anonymous so you had it checked to be anything harmful or offensive to have in your profession. but you had a good feeling on who it was. "oh!" kyle replied, "i'd say that..." he gently removed the ruby before replacing it with the brooch, instead putting the ring on a hair lip and placing it on your bun with professionalism. "there we go! gorgeous as always." you thanked him before grabbing your fancy bag and calling up the guards and your driver.

meanwhile, sylus was waiting on top of the building, waiting to see where you'd emerged from. mephisto stood placed his broad shoulder, just twitching his head and making small sounds before sylus glared at him with the intention of shutting him up. his head turned back as he took a deep breath—

CAWWWWKKK!— "be quiet." the bird yelled even louder before finally shutting up, sylus pinching the skin in the bridge of his rideable nose. stress already colouring his face due to the mechanical crow who loves to torment this man. but he was finally taken out of that stage when he saw a few cars surrounding a tinted mysterious car that was in the middle.

they parked on the side of the road, the security guards coming out to secure the car before the door opened, your figure slowly appearing calm of the car. his heart fluttered nearly instantly as you made your way inside, talking to yourself as you fixed your dress. the auction nearly went completely silent as you entered, your face neutral as you moved around the auction with precision and curiosity.

"hello, your highness." a young man came to you, formally dressed and spoken as he addressed you with such a tittle. you laughed, "oh please, just call me by my name." despite the love for the fame and powr, you hated when people acted like you were the head of the world. at the end of the day, you two bleed the same and are all connected somehow. he nodded before calling you by your name, "would you like to be interested in our most recent additions to our place?"

with a hum, you nodded, implying for the boy to start walking and showing you the way. he led you to a place that was surrounded by citizens, all of them making way whilst also admiring the protocols that stood in the centre of the room. it was red in colour, a black and crimson mist swirling around it. the diamond shape made it seem so cute and rich in wealth but you just shrugged.

"is there anything more...high quality?" you asked with a slight disinterest in this current auction show, the man feeling a little upset that you didn't enjoy it. "well, there is one more..." that same boy led you to the VIP section, a large circled glass contained the powerful protocore inside of it, despite it's small size. but yet again, that black and red mist was surrounding it like magic. and one thing clicked in your head straight away.

your suspicions were correct as the protocore disappeared in your own eyes as a presence came behind you. that must gently touched the brooch. "so you've arrived?" you clicked your fingers as you turned around, instantly faced with a hard chest, your hand went out to push him back a little. your body leaning back as you stared up at that face, finally seeing him in his glory and this up close. "sylus."

your eyes looked at him up and down as he did the same before his hands slipped around your waist pulling you back in. "my oh my, who knew that the empress would be in such a low in quality auction place?" he spoke with a big ego, you could taste it in his cologne— and that exactly cologne made your eyebrow rise, it smelt good. yet to make yourself more professional, you spoke with the same confidence. "who knew that the one and only leader of Onychinus would be at that same auction?"

he let out deep chuckle, a chuckle that could cause sun earthquake if loud wenoufh. the sound waves tickling your spine. "how cute," his hand traced your cheeks. "but i think you'd look even cuter with your sweet little self in my base." you replied with a roll of your eyes before you felt yourself being pulled by an unexplainable force, your bodies even closer as he lowered to one knee. "what do you think you're doing?" he wrapped an arm at the back of your legs before standing up, your body perched on his shoulder as you let out a small yelp. "you absolute—" he lifted you higher with a shift of his hip, you let out a small gasp before walking out of the VIP section and near the door.

he stood in the middle of the auction talking to your security guard "me and my empress are leaving, so all of you go home." with a nod, the security guards all went back to their cars and took off to your house once again. "sylus," you called out as he started to walk out of the room, and outside where he called down to someone. or...something.

you saw how a cow rested on his other shoulder, you exclaimed. "what the fuck?!" he laughed at your reaction before explaining, "this is mephisto, my little...pet. he'll like having a new friend." you scoffed, instantly realising what he was implying. "oh you arsehole." his hand grasped your thigh before he sighed.

"there'll be a change of...atmosphere for a split second. so brace yourself, empress." he warned, making your body tense up before you felt it. the feeling of instantly speed for a nanosecond before he magically ended up in a crimson and black room, the feeling nearly making you sick. "oh...my—" he let you down before you suddenly held your mouth, his eyebrow rose.

"let's go to the bathroom," he spoke with a soft tone before leading you to his large bathroom to puke out your guts. his hand holding your hair back as the other rubbed your back gently, "if you can speak, confirm it." you took a deep breathe before glaring at him, "confirm what?"

his lips kissed your cheek, a hand patting your head as he wiped your mouth a little with a folded tissue, "am i officially the emperor of the N109 Zone?" with a giggle and a cough, you replied with a relaxed tone. "of course you stupid—"

"ah ah ah, no insulting your emperor."

"um? pardon you, i was the ruler first. know your place." "yes ma'am."

finally! i've posted! glad to see that i'm back in writing after a while, sylus was supposed to only be 900 words but look at that. thank for reading, hotties!

do not steal @aly4khq's work even though they are trash!

date made: 23-25/9/24

i do not for permission for anyone to repost, plagiarise or copy into other platforms!

[blackynsupremacy]

EVERY MUSICIAN’S

FAN

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: nicholas was just supposed to be a replacement for your lead guitarist, but now it seems he wants to be more than that.

contains: 80s au, songfic, angst, smut, reader is a famous rock/popstar, 18+ content (mdni), infidelity (reader does), drug/alcohol/tobacco use, implication of a toxic relationship/affair, greed, manipulation, swearing, praise kink, riding, missionary, choking, squirting, cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m/f receiving)

a/n: ever since i saw that picture of nick, i had this in my head. plus, ya’ll know how much i love me some mj. reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @greengoblinswifey @supaprettyg @hoffmansgirl @titsout4nicholas @jkr820 @simply-lovley44 @hnch33rios @hopefully-saturn @xoxoglittergossip @austeenbootler @niteskysx @thabiddie23 @sheydnni @venic-bxtch @miguelspvssy

“i fucking mean it, nicholas! this is the last goddamn time.”

that’s what you said the last time as you were gathering your scattered clothes that were sprawled all over the floor. as you concealed every part of your fucked out body, nicholas, who was only clad in a chained cross necklace, casually laid back between the sheets of the lust-filled bed of the hastily rented motel room with a hand behind his head and the other inhaling a cigarette between his lips. he huffed out a cloud of smoke with a satisfied expression playing on his devilishly handsome face,

“ooh, someone’s mad. you’re back to calling me nicholas. when’re you gonna get tired of saying the same shit, doll?” he rhetorically questioned with a glint of mischief.

your gaze darkened as your lips formed in a tight line. he was absolutely right, but here you were, with your head so damn stuck in the clouds still believing you had control over this mess of a situation.

“that’s your name, ain’t it?— and don’t act so smug, asshole. i got somebody and as soon as that curtain goes down at the last stop, you can get the hell out my band and like ray said, hit the fucking road! just let me be.” as you don your undergarments and reach for your shirt, you spoke to him with so much venom laced in your voice. the same voice that helped you to get discovered, achieve your dreams, and perform for your adoring fans around the world. speaking of fans, it enchanted one in particular that happened to enchant you back—in the worst way possible. nicholas’ sinister, melodious laughter echoed in the tense silence before he took another drag from his cigarette and puffed out more air.

“hey—you do whatever you want, baby. you’d let me just be a roadie if it means i get to fuck your brains out.”

“bullshit, nicholas! you’re lower than a fucking groupie. plus, i’ve seen you around other women and i know you’re every move, so you sure as hell won’t trap me…again!”

you couldn’t believe that you fell right into his trap of seduction again. you already had a man, but with the weight of making sure your first worldwide tour was a success and his absence due to a family emergency, the heavy weight you were feeling was added when he waltzed into your world. you were a young star on the rise as a new era was looming in. being lumped in with popular, black rockstars such as michael, janet, jimi, and prince was a massive deal, especially if your music spreads globally. that’s what you loved about what you were doing, your music was your music and people loved it despite your race and sex. it brought them together. you were only twenty-three and after two albums, your latest one was in the high heavens of the charts and even granted you three grammys that sat proudly on your shelf. now, it was time for the next step in your career: a world tour.

it all started three days before the tour began when your lead guitarist, randy, had to recover in the hospital after a near-fatal motorcycle accident. you were glad that he was going to pull through, but now you were in a jam. randy confirmed that he was going to send someone who he knew, trusted, and can shred just as good as him. that’s how you met nicholas chavez when your manager introduced him during a sound check. he only had two years on you, but it was refreshing to have someone in the band within the same age range as you. although you weren’t single, you had to admit that nicholas was fine as a motherfucker. nicholas stood tall in the six foot range with a lightly stubbled chiseled face, piercing brown eyes, and tousled brown hair. not to mention his burly biceps that were shown off in his black, lust for life wife beater topped with a gold cross chain.

he had the look, but could he shred to your music? when you inquired, he gushed about how big of a fan he was of your talent and records. you felt the heat of embarrassment rise on your face as he didn’t forget to comment how you looked more beautiful in person than you did on posters, interviews, and music videos. nicholas really was a fan. you got everyone in position on stage and as soon as he plugged his cherry red guitar within the amp, you attentively observed as nicholas effortlessly glided across the fretted strings. his skilled fingers moved like clockwork while playing some of the introductory notes of the first song in your set list. you cued in the rest of the band before you opened your mouth to serenade the empty stadium with the first verse. out of the corner of your eye, you could see nicholas’ awestruck gaze. his fingers never stopped moving on the guitar. during this routine, you’d step towards randy and smoothly orbit around him as his chords strummed in harmony with your vocals. when you did so around nicholas, his eyes never pulled away from your figure as he saw you in your element as if you were a goddess—his shining star. he was a shoe in.

“thank you, l.a.! i love you!”

you bade a farewell to the roaring crowd of fans into the microphone before you take a bow and exit the stage with the band following suit. there were a couple dressing rooms in the back, but there was a common area where you and your crew went to congratulate each other in merriment for such a wonderful kick-off to the tour. there was some champagne toasts raised for your accomplishment and for randy’s recovery.

“yo! let’s not forget the newbie for stepping in and absolutely killing that shit tonight. i appreciate it, nick—” you cheered then took a pause, placing your fingers on your lips to hush yourself. you weren’t sure if he was comfortable being addressed as such. “shit, my bad! i know we just met, but you don’t mind if i call you nick, do you?” you questioned as you flashed an amicable grin. nicholas reciprocated with his own grin that you found to be—beguiling of sorts. with the thought of your own relationship, you brushed it off immediately, taking a sip of the alcohol.

“it’s no sweat. you’re a shining star, so i’d be honored if you do.” he responded with a wink which caused your already drunk bandmates to hoop and holler as they nudged nicholas and egged him on. you calmed them down and confirmed the fact of your relationship. nicholas still didn’t seem dejected,

“well, he’s the luckiest guy if he gets to be with you.”

you bashfully wave him off before taking one last gulp and standing,

“aw, thank you, nick, but there’s no need to flatter me. you’re just saying that!”

oh, how wrong you were. little did you know, nicholas meant every word. throughout this tour, he was determined to make his wildest fantasies of making you his star come true, whether you had a man or not. three weeks of the tour progressed and you were more pumped than ever with each stop. your confidence was skyrocketing in your musical abilities and stage presence, nicholas always made sure to let you know that while you guys would have a drink and a smoke together in your dressing room after the show. you didn’t immediately jump into the limo like your other bandmates afterwards to go off to a party for some drinks, narcotics, and groupies. as a rising star, privacy was a gift. you’d want to take a few moments to chill, relish the moment, and reflect on your performance. you would use the payphone to call your boyfriend to converse about each concert during the first week, but some calls were received and others weren’t picked up. the worry bubbled in your stomach with what could be keeping him so preoccupied. eventually, you didn’t leave a message or just tried to call once a week. you were surprised that nicholas didn’t follow suit with the rest of the crew which resulted in you inviting him to recuperate with you, so that he wouldn’t feel left out. at first, it was just him praising you for your hard work and skill and you guys exchanging basic information about your early lives. then before you know it, the undeniable chemistry was simmering between you—on and off the stage.

things came to a head when you and nicholas were sitting on the black, velvet sofa of your dressing room. he was fooling around, strumming and improvising riffs on his guitar while you watched and smoked a cigarette. you were thoroughly impressed with his ability, it was as if a guitar fell into his hands at birth and he just went with it. you scooted closer, observing which finger stayed on which fret or strummed on which string.

“nick, you’re a talent with those riffs, man. it’s like fucking magic the way you handle those fingerings.” you mused and smashed the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table as he halted his movements.

“hah, thanks! means a lot from coming from my biggest inspiration. it’s not everyday you get to meet your idols—let alone, get a compliment from em’.” with one last strum, he sat the guitar securely within the case and turned towards you with a lopsided grin on his face. there was that same charming expression that you feel that—enticement, maybe even desire towards him and he never was discreet about how he felt towards you either. no, you really shouldn’t be feeling that way. he’s basically a co-worker! how would that look on the tabloids if you ever thought about crossing that line? with a kind expression, you humbly wave him off as you’ve done before,

“nick, seriously, you’re too kind. you don’t always have to flatter me. y’know the guys have been giving us a hard time about how you have this big crush on me. that’s hilarious, right?” you nervously chuckle and averted your gaze down to your hands before they shift to his. they looked so firm, so powerful. you didn’t miss the veins that were protruding from the tanned skin of his hands. there was now a silence lingering, an unspoken tension. nicholas had to make his move.

“you know that i mean those things i say, right?”

your eyes jerked themselves on his to make sure you were hearing him correctly. you prayed he was just joking, but judging from this stare down, you could tell that he was not playing around.

“nick, i—” you stammer, but he catches it in time.

“i don’t say those things because i have to—i say ‘em because i want to and what if the guys were maybe onto somethin’?”

“onto what?” you ask, anticipating his answer.

“my ‘crush’ on you. sweetheart, i’d be a goddamn liar if i were to deny what they said. i mean—look at you, you’re talented and you have the voice of an angel. you’re real. you actually get people through your music, so you’re not like these other fucking posers.” nicholas brings his body in closer to yours, making you both mere centimeters in distance. “by the way, you’re so fucking beautiful. it’s not even real. your skin, your hair, your body. fuck, it just makes me insane that i’m not yours.” he proclaimed, his arm sliding around behind the sofa, his fingertips sensually grazing the brown skin of your shoulder as he continues to sing his praises to you, “every time you walk around me during that one song, i get so hard—heh, it’s pathetic because you don’t even fucking touch me.” he chuckles, his warm breath tickling your face as you instinctively clench your thighs to douse the pulsating throbbing within your core. nicholas certainly didn’t miss that as he didn’t miss the opportunity to rest his free hand on your bare thigh. at his subtle touch, you were shamefully soaked. you had to get away, right now, but why weren’t you getting up? why didn’t you move away as nicholas ghosted his lips over yours? maybe it was your boyfriend’s absence and the long, lonely nights of sleeping solo in an executive suite fit for a star.

“nick, i know what you’re doing and—” you gulp under his lustful gaze that continued to draw you in. you still never moved from your spot. “i know how these rockstars get on these tours, but i’m not with that. i have someone.” you look towards the window, knowing that the payphone is just right outside. not that you’ve been keeping track, but you haven’t even called on the phone tonight to tell your man that you were doing okay. nicholas’ long fingers firmly, yet softly guide your chin, so that you were face to face to again.

“hey, hey. i get it, doll, but you can’t tell me that you don’t get—” with the lick of his lips, he glanced down to your still crossed legs, “lonely.”

his words were nothing, but the truth and you hated it. you could feel the heat of radiating off his body, the way his brown gaze stuck to you with admiration and desire like the true fan he claimed to be. you wanted to make a run for it, to push him away and remind yourself of your commitment, but the truth was that the loneliness had been creeping in and looming over you like this dark cloud that won’t move.

“look, nick. this isn’t right,” you urged. you attempted to deny him and yourself from falling into such a sinful, yet enticing endeavor, but even as the words left your lips, you felt the pull of his energy. it was so enigmatic. for a temporary replacement, he had the look and the charisma of a true star. you couldn’t deny that nicholas was indeed a fine specimen of a man. the females in the stands would go crazy whenever he had the chance of an improvised guitar solo. it was obvious they were digging the way he moved his fingers or how his vein ridden biceps would flex with every movement more than his music ability. now that it came down to it, you were one of them. you could see the way his toned chest rose and fell, the way his breath quickened as he leaned in just a fraction more. you didn’t miss how his eyes continuously shifted from yours to your lips.

“c’mon, is it really so wrong for you to want to feel something real?” nicholas asked, his voice tantalizingly low as each word was dripping with temptation. “you’re out here, living this incredible life with some insane fucking talent and beauty. don’t lie to me, babe, you want something more.” his hand traveled farther up on your thigh. you could see the smirk forming on his face once he felt the sensation of goosebumps rising on your bare, brown skin. you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were going to literally explode. the palpable tension in the air made it difficult to think straight.

“i have someone, okay?” you repeated, but it felt weaker this time, as if you were trying to convince yourself more than him. how pathetic. nicholas chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“oh, yeah? i bet if you went out to that phone, he wouldn’t even pick up. you see, i’m always here for you, so how ‘bout you let go and use me—just for one night, hm?” he whispered close to your ear, his lips ghosting along your jawline. you wanted to feel the touch of his lips press onto your skin, but now you were stuck with a choice—or what little of a choice you had left. if leaving were an option, you would’ve gotten the hell out of dodge by now.

“i shouldn’t.” you murmured, but even as you spoke, you could feel yourself beginning to crumble. “c’mon, baby, just one night,” he urged, his voice a seductive whisper before his fingers easily slid up to the area of where your legs are crossed. “let me show you what you’ve been missing. i’m your biggest fan, so let me prove it to you. you deserve to feel good, to let go of all the pressure and just—be.” at that phrase, you sigh as the tense muscles in your legs suddenly turn to jelly, giving him all the access that he needed to slide his fingers within your leather skirt. his middle grazes over the lace material of your panties before he presses the tip of finger flat against the damp surface of your clothed pussy. nicholas could gloat at the fact that even when you said no, you were already putty in his hands, but he just couldn’t fathom the thought of him actually arousing his musical idol of all people—what luck he had tonight.

“just say the word, honey, and i’m all yours tonight. i won’t go any further until you do.” as he spoke, you felt the weight of your loneliness pressing down on you, the longing for connection that had been building up inside you. the thought of giving in, of letting him take you away from it all, was intoxicating—just like the scent of cigarettes mixed with his cologne now that he was closer than ever. god, you just wanted to feel desired, to be wanted in a way that only he seemed to understand. no one was around, so how could the paps possibly see what you were up to? shit, male stars do this all the time and never seem to get flack for it. they get to do whatever they want with their little groupies and they’re deemed as kings, but nicholas was just one man, so—you made your decision. with a shaky breath, you deliberately nodded and shrugged your shoulders. “hah, fuck it—just for tonight.” you said, your voice trembled with anticipation before you pointedly turned to look him straight into his eyes.

“but, we can’t let it go further than that.” you affirm.

nicholas’ brown eyes lit up with a mixture of triumph and desire, and in that moment, you knew you were stepping into a world of pleasure and possibly, regret. he’s got you where he wants you and frankly, you couldn’t really give a fuck for now.

“oh, trust me, baby. you won’t regret it,” with a tone of mischief, he promised and it didn’t take a second for him to finally crash his lips on yours to which you reciprocated without any more doubts once you place your hands on his jawline to bring him in closer as if you were a starved woman. as the kiss progressed, his cunning digits stealthily moved your panties to the side beneath you skirt, causing you to open your legs wider. the pads of middle and ring fingers glided along your slit before his thumb came in to caress pressured light circles around your clit . you whimpered out into nicholas’ mouth, giving his tongue the opportunity to intrude into your mouth like a smooth criminal, you instantly went along with it as your desire for his touch began to increase. a whine left your lips when his descended to lay an attack on your neck. as he did so, you jolted a bit when he stuck his middle inside of you. your wet, cushiony walls stretched to give him the warm welcome he’s been craving for a while.

“fuck, you’re so tight. so fucking beautiful. i bet you don’t get like this for your boyfriend, eh?” he darkly chuckled, deliberately moving in and out your pussy.

“ah, nick, please.” you’re practically begging for him to add one or two more just to get that much needed release that’s been bottled up. as if he were reading your mind, he slipped in another finger and gained his speed. you moan out his name as your hips instinctively buck for his fingers meet in the middle with that special spot. he smirks at the beautiful music of squelching as you clench tighter around him.

“shit, baby, you hear that? god, you’re soaked.” he teasingly mused while making a scissoring motion, you could hear the volume of your arousal getting louder as his fingers easily move faster. his thumb was back to rapidly rubbing and pressing onto your clit like it was a button on an arcade game. you were just about to cum when he pulled his fingers away, leaving you whining at the emptiness.

“nick, why’d you st—” your words were cut short when he placed his fingers atop of your lips. they were glistening as they were coated in your juices.

“here—wanna taste?” nicholas asked, urging you to give him access to your mouth. a satisfied grin rose on his lips when you answered by sucking off both fingers at the same time. he bit his lip and attentively watched. when you hummed at the taste, he could feel the blood rapidly flowing to his rising cock as you didn’t dare to break the lustful eye contact between you.

“fuck.” nicholas exhaled, instantly taking his fingers from his mouth and initiating another fervent kiss to your lips. he needed to taste and feel you—all of you, so with one of his strong arms wrapped around your body, he swiftly laid you on your back against the plush, black velvet cushions of the sofa. he positions his large body right in between your legs and ruts his clothed arousal against your own as you both take a moment to get lost in each other’s lips before he goes down from your neck to your chest. your hands find their way within his messy, brown hair while he suckles on the melanated skin of your cleavage. his hands then slide under your corset top, he’s so damn giddy that there’s no bra underneath. he palms his firm hands against your soft breasts that he was dying to see for the first time. he peered at you when his hands gripped the hem as if to ask if he can proceed. once you silently give your approval, he pulls the top over head to expose your bare upper half. his hands roamed your body with a hunger that made your skin tingle with goosebumps, his fingers trailing down your sides, exploring every curve. with hooded lids and his mouth slightly agape, he just stared in awe at how this moment could never compare to the numerous sensual fantasies he’s had of you in the past.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands now pinning your hips deeper within the sofa as he continued to deliberately grind his own into you.

“fuck, i can’t say it enough. you fucking see what you do to me?”

“ah, fuck, nick…” you whimpered, the sound escaping your lips as you bucked your hips up to his. your pussy was practically aching with how much you needed him, you were savoring this moment, but not too much as you hurriedly sat up to pull his tank over his head only to reveal how much of an absolute unit nicholas was. you knew he was fit, but it was like he was straight from the cover off the latest issue from playgirl magazine. he reveled at how your hands slowly roam from his chest down to his firmly toned abdomen. you basically clench around nothing when the ridge of each hard, bulging muscle are within your hands. they travel to his navel, the dark tresses of his happy trail tickled against your fingers. that’s when you finally see the hardened tent of arousal locked within his jeans, you attempt to touch it, but he softly takes ahold of your wrist before you could so. nicholas teasingly clicks his tongue,

“tsk, tsk, tsk. you’re so damn greedy. how ‘bout you do that after i get a taste?” he quips, placing a gentle kiss to your palm before he leans over you to slide your leather skirt down your legs. your drenched black, lace panties follow after, showcasing a clear string of your sweet nectar as they finally depart from your body. you observe as nicholas readies himself in the position between your legs, opening them wider, so that he can be a perfect fit. he marvels at the sight of your wet core before he leaves a trail of wet kisses along each of your inner thighs, pleasuring, yet teasing you as he makes his journey closer to the center. you shudder when his tongue finally makes contact by deliberately licking a long stripe up the slit before he gets to his dirty work. he was devouring you as if your pussy was a treasure he’d been searching for. you vocalize groans of ecstasy while caressing his hair as his lips enclose around your clit, sucking the sensitive nub like a piece of hard candy.

“s-shit—nick. that feels s’good.” you praise, throwing your head back, your fingers dig in the jungle of his head to pull him in as close as possible. nicholas was giving you all of what he’s got and you both knew you couldn’t deny it. he could cum right now as he witnessed you writhe under his touch, but he was patient enough. the combination of him humming in satisfaction against your skin, the bridge of his nose bumping into your clit, and his stubble tickling at your folds could drive you over the edge. you slowly rolled your hips into his face, he starts to become relentless once his tongue is deep with your walls and his thumb plays with your puffy clit to stimulate you further.

“mmm, nick, baby—uh, i’m—” you struggle to communicate as you squirm, the hot ball of pleasure builds from inside of you.

“shh, shh, i know. let it all go. c’mon, beautiful, do it for your biggest fan. i want you give it to me.”

at his words, you were already undone. you clench around his tongue and do what he commands by releasing a literal burst of your arousal onto his face, chin, and even the couch. he laps every single drop as you ride out your first of many highs. you were spent, but not so much when your hands guide his face to yours. you steal a second taste of yourself on his tywhen you crash your lips onto his in hunger before you finally take initiative,

“nick.” you softly, yet firmly call out, “take it all off. sit up nice and pretty f’me.” he doesn’t waste time to sit himself upright on the couch. being the good and loyal fan that he is, you stand between his spread thighs and reward him with sloppy kisses to his lips, bringing them down further until you’re where he’d want you the most. your hands don’t wait to unfasten and unzip the ripped jeans he has on. after his assistance of discarding the clothing to a random part of the room, you kneel to be face to face with the large tent within his plaid boxers. you smirk and return the same teasing energy he gave you, sliding your hands up his knees and down his massive thighs before you firmly palm his arousal. god, he was definitely hard and he was definitely huge, and the full thing hasn’t even sprung out yet. he lets out a guttural sigh in pleasure as you roll his erection within your hand. being ready than you’ll ever be, you slide the boxers down his legs and off his feet to break him free before you reach out to stroke his impressive ego. it was so nice, tall, and stiff. nicholas seemed like the type to keep it up for a while and the best part: it was all for you. he lets out a string of profanity when your tongue leaves a trail along the underside of the shaft. you both can’t take the teasing anymore as your hands firmly place themselves on each thigh, your tongue swirls around his leaking tip as if you were trying to keep melting ice cream from falling off a cone. you take him into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks to move your head up and down the entire length.

“ah, just like that. fuck, i knew you were talented, but this is fucking ridiculous—shit! keep going, doll. fuck, i love your mouth.” his praises motivate you to take half of him within your mouth and the other half to stroke his cock with your palm simultaneously. you hum what happened to be the tune of his favorite song of yours against his skin and he instinctively bucked his hips to bring himself further down your throat. oh, you fucking minx. he knew you wanted to make him feel good as well, but while he appreciated the thought, he only had one mission: you.

“s-stop—can’t fucking take it. m’not gonna cum like this.” he hisses, placing a palm on your neck immediately stopping your movements.

“get the fuck on top of me, right now.”

it was like clockwork the way he effortlessly picked you up from your spot on the floor, placing your knees on each side of his legs, so that your entrance was centimeters from the tip. nicholas strokes himself and gingerly runs the tip along the slit, his hands grip onto your hips to guide them down, filling you up inch by inch until he was right at home. you groaned at the girth that rested inside of you as he leans back on the sofa with his hands behind his head.

“shit, you feel amazing—go ahead, angel, use me. i’m all you need tonight, i’ll be your freak, your lover. for you, i’ll be your any-fucking-thing.” nicholas hyped, jolting his hips to give you a fresh start for you to move on your own and boy, did it feel exhilarating. you finally got your rhythm as you repeatedly moved up and down on his cock, your slick making it easy for him to slide in and out without a problem. with one hand placed on his chest and the other around where his chain rested on his neck, this gave you the leverage you needed to lose full control.

“ah, fuck. nick, baby, you feel so damn good.” your hips don’t stop when his tip lightly touches that precious spot, but you need more, “hah, p-please touch me.” nicholas’ warm gaze instantly darkened at your command, his hands grip right under the plush cheeks of your ass as his own hips jolt up to meet yours. you and nicholas simultaneously groan in pleasure when his tip rapidly bumps against your cervix.

“fuck, look at you. you like using me as your little plaything? y’know i’d do anything for my shining star.” he teased, quickly gaining speed in his hips. you were about to be close as that ball of heat grew within you, but you were starting to tire out. flustered, you lightly tapped him on his burly bicep thrice.

“n-nick! i-i can’t—” you stammer with a desperate look in your eyes, he holds you firmly by the small of your back and flips you over before placing your legs over his shoulders to drill his hips right into yours as if he never lost his rhythm. nicholas was simply mesmerized at the sight before him. you’re crying his name out every second with your eyes shut tight preparing yourself for another orgasm as your walls clench tighter around him. to nicholas, this was heaven, he didn’t give a fuck if he was fucking the shit out of someone else’s chick.

“look at me, baby.” he softly orders, placing one hand on your neck to prompt you into opening your eyes, you do so. “you getting close?” he questions further to which you barely reply, “m-mhm! m’gonna cum.” the next thing you know is that he leans down to slowly move his lips with yours, his tongue gaining entrance as his free hand wedges between you to spread you a little wider and caress pressured circles on your clit with his thumb again to bring you closer combined with his own movements that were starting to get sporadic. you pulled your lips from his momentarily

“nick, come with me. it’s okay.” you say one last time not keeping your eyes off of each other. “s-shit, you’re amazing.” he praises as your body trembles beneath him, his thrusts get sloppier as he moves on your nub faster before you both wail out, becoming completely undone. you find yourself squirting on his cock and navel while he completely pours himself deep inside of you, coating your walls in the thick whiteness of his arousal that now drips from you after he pulls out. thank god you were on the pill, you were already in deep trouble as it is. after you both gathered yourselves together and go your separate ways to prepare for the next stop, the guilt inside you was forming at the realization that— you cheated.

“this can’t happen again, nick.” you firmly said.

“you’re the boss.” he responded nonchalantly.

that’s when you swore to keep it nothing, but professional with nicholas from that day forward. if by professional, you mean sneaking him into your suite while the band was partying or engaging in a quickie within your dressing room. it was futile, the more you tried to resist him, the more persistent he got which would lead to you threatening to kick him out or reiterating that you had a boyfriend, but somehow, it always ends up with him coaxing you into filling that void within your bed—and your heart.

[moonyswritinq]

black swan — killian jones x male reader

❝ BLACK SWAN ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ Killian Jones was no stranger to using his charms in order to woo beautiful women, Emma Swan being no exception. You couldn’t stand the sight of him flirting shamelessly with your sister, purely for brotherly reasons, so you decide to tell him off. What you didn’t know, was that his eye had been drawn to you the moment he saw you.

PAIRING ➢ killian jones x brother!Swan male reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢ season 2 & 3 spoilers, sort of one-sided rivals to lovers, tension, kissing, making out, harsh language, guys flirting, insults as flirting, threats

WORD COUNT ➢ 2.4 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I wrote this because I read another similar fic and, no hate to that author, but I wanted to write it better and so that it would be more to my satisfaction. Also, I am well aware of all the requests I still have yet to do, but I fell into a OUAT hole and now I’m here.

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

Killian Jones finding a woman attractive was nothing special. He’s had his fair share of dalliances over the years. Ever since what happened to Milah, Killian was in no hurry to find the so-called “true love” and settle down. His never-ending adventures at sea kept him plenty occupied—and so did his hunt for his Crocodile.

It was no surprise then that the woman named Emma Swan would draw his eye. She was just his type: bold, determined, and a natural leader. His interactions with her in the Enchanted Forest left him intrigued, and his curiosity of her only grew when they returned to Storybrooke and defeated Cora together. He expected his infatuation with Emma to grow the more time he spent with her, but what he was not expecting, was you to catch his eye instead.

The son of Prince Charming and Snow White, brought to a world without magic together with Emma as babies, put into a foster home. Despite all your bad luck as children, your inability in finding a place to call home, at least you managed to stay together. And as Henry brought her back to Storybrooke to break the curse, you followed with. You weren’t a Saviour like her, not by a long shot. But you did have your own skills and abilities, something that came with being a devilishly cunning detective. However much she hated to admit it, Emma would oftentimes turn to you for help in hunting down a bounty. A difficult bounty for her meant an afternoon of idle searching for you.

You never turned down an opportunity to tease her about it and she never hesitated to roll her eyes at you. Nonetheless, you felt incredible protective of her. You may just have been a few minutes older than her, but that didn’t stop you from putting on the big brother act—something she didn’t always appreciate.

Which is why, when you saw a certain pirate unashamedly flirting with her, those brotherly instincts kicked in immediately. You knew Hook was helping your family in getting Henry back from Neverland, providing passage on his ship, the Jolly Roger, and offering his being a guide on the island. But those facts did not give him the right to flirt with your sister.

You had already been at odds with the man when, at your arrival to the island, the ship was attacked by  a school of mermaids. Hook had stumbled in your direction and taken hold of the most stable thing closest to him—which happened to be you. His hand had gripped your waist, his hook coming to your chest as he fell against you. The closeness of his breath stirred something within you, something not entirely uncomfortable. Of course, it was not his fault that the ship veered to the side and that you had been closest to him when he stumbled, but that didn’t stop you from pushing him away from you the moment the ship steadied.

“My apologies,” he said, quite out of breath. His blue eyes were remarkably clear in the moonlight. “I usually offer a drink before getting so close to someone.”

Your glare was your only answer.

“I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.” He extended his hand for you to shake. You looked at it uncertainly.

“I’m Emma’s brother,” you said simply.

His eyebrow raised. “So you must be the infamous town sheriff y/n Swan. I s’pose good looks do run in the family.”

You began to scoff, but then your brain was able to fully comprehend his words. “I never told you my name.”

Hook glanced away, his confident smirk faltering. He cleared his throat. “I may have, er, asked someone for it.”

You shifted your head to meet his eye. “Someone?”

He let out a sigh. “I wanted to know who the handsome man that was traveling with us is, so yeah, I asked around. Really, you should be flattered.”

You scoffed at the grin that flashed across his face and turned on your heel. Like you’d said—shameless flirt.

Later, while searching Neal’s hideout, you watched him flash that same grin when talking to Emma. He stepped much closer, leaning towards her. You couldn’t stomach watching it. And you told yourself it was because she deserved better than a good-for-nothing scoundrel like him. No other reason.

So you watched from afar, leaned against the cave walls, as Hook winked at your sister. Emma glared at him, unimpressed. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about her falling for his charms. She was much too clever for that. You saw her walk away from him, away from the hand that he had reached forward to her and you smiled with grim satisfaction. But before you could step forwards, out of the shadows, David had approached Hook.

“Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook,” he said. “She’s never gonna like you.”

Hooks eyebrows shot into the air. “Is that so?”

“How could she?” David’s voice was laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a pirate.”

He seemed to want to reply, but nothing came out, and David walked away. Hook’s gaze followed him, his hand running down his face.

“He’s right, y’know,” you said, stepping forward.

A low growl slipped from his throat, Hook turning to face you. He looked almost crestfallen. “Can I not get enough of your bloody family?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “And here I was thinking you’d be glad to see me.”

Hook let out a dry chuckle. “Oh, I am very glad, love.”

“There’s that charm of yours,” you remarked humourlessly.

He smiled cheekily. “Doesn’t seem to be working on your sister, though.”

“Yeah,” you hummed. Step after step brought you closer to the pirate. You watched him closely, noting the way his eyes jumped over your figure. “Speaking of, we need to have a chat.”

He nodded absentmindedly, raising his finger to rub against his lips. The movement drew your eye to them. You knew he had noticed your gaze before you managed to tear it away when his lips curled into a smirk. You rolled your eyes. Goddamned pirate.

“If you’re going to stare at me like that, I’m going to get some mixed signals, love.” His voice was as smug and sweet as honey, only managing in irritating you more.

You were not known to be calm and level-headed. Anyone who was close to you knew to keep away when your anger threatened to burst, like an erupting volcano. Emma had once stolen one of your favourite pencils as a child and you had gotten back at her by spilling ink all over her favourite stuffed animal. But Hook did not know you well enough. He smiled sweetly.

Two steps forward and you were stood right in front of him, pressing against his chest. Rum and leather and sea salt filled your nose. The smell of him was overpowering and intoxicating all at once. You pressed one arm against his throat, pushing him back against the cave wall, the other bracing yourself against it. He grunted at the impact, groaning in displeasure, before meeting your gaze steadily.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

The words growled out of your throat, through your gritted teeth. “Stay away from Emma, got it?”

“You may have gotten the good looks of your family. Not the manners, though,” he said lazily.

You cocked your head. “No, that is more my parents’ style.”

“You do have more of a bite than them,” he said. Then he tilted his head, as if in thought. “Huh, well, aren’t you a dark Swan, love? Or do you prefer Black Swan?”

Your brows knit together but you chose to ignore his words. Instead, you said, “I do agree with David that Emma will never fall for you, so you might as well give up now.”

Hook’s eyebrow raised. “If you’re so sure she won’t fall for me, why even bother threatening me? Surely, my flirting must be harmless.”

Your brows knitted together in suspicion. His eyes were annoyingly blue, piercing straight into yours. “Just leave her alone, Hook.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“My flirting with her.” He leant forward a bit, throat straining against your arm. “Swan, are you jealous?”

You opened your mouth to protest. You? Jealous? Ridiculous. Then you noticed that his lips had curled into a cheeky smirk. “No,” you bit out.

Hook blinked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Heard you were quite the detective out in the Land of No Magic.”

Your head cocked to the side. “Yeah, so?”

He simply hummed, head falling back against the stone walls. His eyes traveled across your figure before jumping up to meet your gaze through his lidded eyes, something unintelligible in those swirls of blue. You ignored the warmth that pooled in your stomach at the sight of him like that.

“I will leave her alone,” he said calmly. “You have my word.”

You tried to detect the mischievous thoughts that were surely lying behind his eyes, but came up empty. You had no idea if he was telling the truth or not, but you let him go and stepped back in one swift moment. He cleared his throat, rubbing one hand across his collarbone.

“Fine,” you said, glancing away from his steely gaze. You weren’t sure what to do with yourself then, and you cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Shall we?” Hook asked, gesturing to where the others had gone.

“Yeah,” you said simply, walking past him briskly.

You didn’t know what had suddenly overcome you or why you were now so uncomfortable in Hook’s presence. For the rest of that day, every time you glanced in his direction to make sure he was heeding your words of staying away from Emma—to which he did—you felt as if your nerves were standing on end. And on occasion, when he happened to be glancing your way as well and your eyes met, you felt shivers travel down your body, forcing you to break his eye contact. You thought you could see a smirk playing across his lips in those moments, but you chose to ignore him.

That same evening, you had found out David and Hook been ambushed by the Lost Boys. Apparently, Captain Hook had risked his life saving David from a poisonous arrow with Nightshade on it. You almost wanted to laugh at the idea of Hook doing something so heroic, but at the sight of David’s serious face you merely took a swig of the offered flask, like the others. You caught his eye right before he turned and stepped away from the others. You followed him behind a tree.

“I heard what you did for David,” you said. He stopped and turned to face you. “Thank you, Killian.”

His smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I wouldn’t leave your father to perish on this island.”

You nodded, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eye. “I must ask, did you do it to get in my sister’s good graces?”

“I thought you weren’t jealous.” His eyebrow raised.

“Answer the question,” you bit out.

His smile dropped as he met your gaze. “No, I didn’t do it for her. I did it for you. And because it was the right thing to do.”

You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you. “So now you’re all righteous, huh?”

Hook cocked his head. “I’ve always been chivalrous,” he said. “And, well, it doesn’t take a genius to know that getting your father killed would not help my courting you.”

You chose to ignore those last few words, your smile holding no warmth. “You’re right. You are no genius,” you said.

 “This doesn’t sound like a thank you,” Hook remarked, raising his eyebrows.

You let out a sigh, looking down at the ground beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Perhaps you could show me some gratitude to make it up to me.”

His gaze was dark underneath his eyelashes, his lips curling into a smirk. You thought you knew what he was implying. You wouldn’t let him get off that easily, though.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “That was what the ’thank you’ was for.”

“Mmm,” Hook hummed. He took a step closer, so close now you could count his eyelashes. “Is that all your father’s life is worth to you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps,” he whispered, face leaning much closer to you. You could feel his breath against your skin. “It’s you who couldn’t handle it.”

Your eyes jumped between his, then to his lips. Those damned lips, curled into that damned smile. Oh Gods, why did you have to be attractive to a pirate. Without leaving any time for you to think your actions through, you took ahold of his jacket and pulled his face towards yours.

Hook let out a surprised gasp, which you swallowed into the kiss. He dragged himself closer, hand clinging to your waist. You felt his chest press hard against you as his lips moved against yours. It was harsh, quick, and angry—just like your feelings for him.

The warmth in your stomach deepened as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him. One hand made its way into his dark hair, pulling lightly against it. He let out a deep moan at the movement, his eyes shooting open and lips pulling away for a moment.

You smiled at the sight of him, red-lipped, cheeks flushed and eyes full of desire. “Too harsh for you, captain?”

He groaned at your words, capturing your lips once more. His hook was pressing your waist against his as his hand grabbed your neck, bringing you into him. He was truly and well intoxicating.

Hook pulled away again, breath coming out in short bursts. “So I’m not good enough for your sister, but I’m good enough for you.”

You cocked your head and shrugged. “I’m not as good as she is.”

He smiled into the kiss when you pulled him closer again. His teeth captured your bottom lip lightly, but the feeling made a smile of your own erupt across your face.

“I don’t know,” Hook said. “I think you’re pretty good.”

“Killian.”

“My name has never sounded sweeter.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, smile still playing across your lips.

“With pleasure,” he murmured while pulling you close again.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @scriblezz

[mayullla]

Title: A Cruel Punishment

Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: You were cast aside by your fiance, a prince who fell in love with another woman. You were called an evil woman and you thought you would be sent away yet instead you were given to another. Your hands trembled when you read the contract that you would wed a terrible man.

Tags/Warnings: male!yandere, fem!reader, viscount!yandere x fallen aristocrat!reader, both are adults, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, corporal punishment, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 4.7k words

Part 2 is here!

This was your punishment.

You did try of course. You tried everything in your power not to have this happen… Yet no matter what you did you were treated like a villain in front of that girl. Tears in your eyes as you watch the man you have loved hold another woman with such care while looking at you in disdain and disgust like you were the devil. 

After misunderstandings and misunderstandings, your fiance has cast you aside for the girl who had become the talk of the aristocratic society. You were also spoken of, as the wicked one who lost her fiance to some countryside noble girl. The lady who was cruel and cunning. A bully towards those who could not speak up for themselves. A noble who had set up her own fall.

Yet that was never the case. You were nothing of that sort yet no one believed. When cautious eyes stayed away from you, not wanting to be caught in the waves or rumors. When those who cared for entertainment smiled at you wickedly, watching everything around you collapse. Those who didn't care turned their backs towards you walking away.

Maybe you should have tried harder… but it was too late. Kicked out of noble society, you awaited your punishment.

You thought you would be sent to a monastery. A punishment to banish the cruel women of nobility. Yet just before you could step foot towards that place, you were dragged back to where you were. 

They had no place for you. Food and water, none of that nor a place for you to sleep. For you, a far worse punishment awaited you. As you stared at the letter sent to you your knees fell to the floor. 

A marriage arrangement contract with the viscount. Cursive, beautiful, and elegant... it was terrifying.

There were many rumors surrounding him, he was someone who always smiled yet the more sharp ones could see the cunningness and hunger in his eyes. There were many rumors around him, that even while handsome many sound-minded women stayed away from him. For those ladies who did not, it was long before they suddenly disappeared, fell into madness or their family suddenly became bankrupt. 

There were rumors that circulated around the nobility that the viscount was dangerous, had a hold of the black market, and dabbled in dark magic. But there was no concrete proof, there was nothing. It was impossible to find information that the rumors were true and those who tried to unravel what was covered could only regret it.

The moment you read the contract that he would have you as his wife it was as if cold water was dumped onto you. Fear encased your heart as you wondered if this was your punishment. 

Those who have heard of this news wondered if you would even be alive after your marriage with that man. Some thought that you would not last even a month later found in a ditch somewhere body chopped into pieces, while organs were sold to the highest bidder.

You were scared as you were essentially dragged to his mansion, under the guise that you and him should get to know each other more before marriage which was in two months' time. Reaching the place and forced to sit down in the guest waiting room, your hands shook as you held your teacup to your lips, you could not focus on the maids bringing desserts. Seconds felt like hours till he finally showed, the same smile on his lips that felt nothing more than a mask. It was obvious that he was hiding something. 

He never tried to hide that smile, in fact, you have never seen another expression on his face other than that sly smile. Maybe already confident that no one would ever find those secrets.

You were cautious of him, having met him a few times at parties and balls you have always kept your guard up and alert around him, never once able to feel comfortable when he stared down at you like a predator watching its prey. You always tried to avoid him, and when you could not you could only sigh in relief when the conversation ended and the two of you separated.

Yet here you were.

"I hope you didn't wait long." He gently asked, taking a seat on the sofa in front of you. The servants had silently left the room after he had motioned them to go out (a flick of his hand) leaving only you and him alone. You shook your head telling him that it was fine that you didn't wait long which he looked as if he had brightened considerably. 

"Then please be comfortable. I do hope the tea is to your liking."

His sly smile never left his face.

It made it difficult to actually make yourself comfortable when you didn't know what he was actually thinking. The short small chat between you and him felt too long as he asked about your likes and dislikes, hobbies, and such. Drinking your tea, you were parched from all the talking and your nerves had somewhat calmed down but you tried your best to hide the tremble in your hand. 

"You must be sad that you have broken up with your fiance." Looking up you looked at the smiling face of the viscount from your tea. His elbow on his crossed knee while he rested his chin on his hand, "You have been his fiance ever since you were little kids. Why do I imagine it is still difficult to separate when you have been together for so long."

You froze at his words, the hurt in your heart that of what happened just a few days ago was still fresh from the pain. "I pitied you. Such a lovely lady, that looked like a rose wilting as others laughed at a beautiful thing. Why when I heard that they planned to send you to the monastery, I only thought it was unfortunate." He sipped his tea calmly as his eyes watched you, as your hands tightened around the teacup fear climbing up your body as you tried to lean away but were unable to because of the sofa.

"...I am sorry... what are you trying to say?" You didn't understand if he was trying to offend you or if he wanted to show his pity. 

You felt a wave of dizziness wash over you.

"Hmmm, for you my dear what I mean to say is that I found it tragic to send such a beautiful lady away." Tilting his head, his sharp eyes staring at you. You tried to concentrate on his words, yet you were struggling. "Then I thought that having you in my grasp would make for such a fine idea. You wouldn't have to go but instead be able to stay and I will get to keep you for myself. Of course, you would need much training before I would release you back into the noble society just like that."

Huh? You tried to listen, yet his words and face started to become a blur. Dizzy and tired you thought as you placed a hand on your head wondering what was the matter with you and if the stress from everything finally caught up to you. It was hard to understand his words, yet you could remember the mocking tone of it. It was getting harder to keep your eyes open.

"It seems that medicine is finally working. Don't worry dear I have made sure just to give you a tiny dose."

There was a sound of glass breaking, wondering what happened you tried to get up again yet were unable to when a hand placed itself on your cheek. The warmth of it was enough to get you to close your eyes. The last thing you heard was his voice.

"Such a cute little dove. Sleep love. When you wake up you will have no more rest. I will train you to become a fine lovely wife just for me and in the eyes of society."

After that darkness was all you could see, consuming all light.

Waking up, you had a major headache. Slowly moving as you push yourself up from the bed when you hear a door open and shut. "You are finally awake."

Opening your eyes, you looked around wondering why you were hearing a somewhat familiar voice when you realized where you were. In a dark room with no windows all except a lamp that lit up the room. There was almost no furniture except the bed that you lay on with expensive sheets and blankets. You suddenly moved alarmed by where you were when the clanging of chains tugged your leg preventing you from getting farther.

Putting force into your leg to pull the chain, you yelped when a sudden pain sprang on your bosom. Grabbing your stomach you looked down to see a crest. A beautiful yet erotic design was laid on the lower side of your stomach through the sheer nightclothes. “You are finally awake! You have slept for quite a while now… three days actually, but I had to make sure that you would not have any irreversible damage from the seal.

"Where... where am I?" You looked at him bewildered, fear and distrust shown in your eyes as you watched him walk closer to you.

"You are in the room you will stay for a little while till our wedding." You raised a brow at his words, surprised and in disbelief but he only chuckled. "My little future wife, my adorable pet, your surprised expression is just so cute. Even since a long time ago, since we met each other the first time I always had this fascination towards you." 

Bending his hips, you and him looked face to face at each other. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes, one that you often see in the past whenever he looked at you. "You see it was something like a love at first sight. While I never believed that at first, I realized that it was indeed true when I first laid eyes on you. Such a prim and proper little lady, trying her best to hide her struggles from the pressure of being the finance of a prince while smiling. Seeing you made me wonder what other expressions you have other than the ones that you show in public. I don't know why but I have a hard time getting you off my mind. And the more I thought about you the more I.. fell."

"Quite the love story is it not? However, you have already belonged to someone else, to that foolish and without a lick of sense or talent prince. I do not understand what you see in such a useless buffoon." Dry words of distaste made you flinch. "But it seems I must only do so little to get him out of your side. Why, he himself volunteered to get out of my sight."

You looked at him alarmed at his words when he suddenly grabbed your chin. Examining as if you were a product that he bought. "He is quite the lustful man, don't you think? Falling in love with a woman when all she did was sway her hips and fall in his arms. That woman is a seductress. Her eyes were very greedy for things that didn't belong to her. I have a distaste for such harlots, I prefer the more meek ones, the little mice or loyal dogs."

Placing your hand on his arm you attempted to get out of his hold. "Stay still dear, I have to check if they did anything to your love face dear. I wasn't able to really examine your face much when I was so busy placing that seal." You yelped when your body suddenly didn't listen when you tried to get away. Your own body started to inch closer to him and stayed still.

"It seems that the seal is working quite nicely don't you think?" His smile could not help but widen a little more as he watched your frantic eyes, asking what he had done to you. "Your little seal here is just to make sure you are properly going to follow with your training and not run away. I had it created just for you when I heard that your fiance wanted to break up with you."

"It is just a simple commanding seal, you are quite the doll but even so I prefer my lover to be well collared just in case she had any thoughts of leaving." Your eyes watered at his words, terror seeping into your veins at the implications.

“My beautiful dove, you belong only to me.”

Things went down from there, forced into his every whim you were forced to study and learn to be the perfect wife for the viscount. Whenever you made a mistake there was a punishment. You learned how to care for the mansion. Yet the more you looked the more your blood became cold.

He was a cruel man. No matter how much you begged the servants to let you out they would not. Instead, they would report your actions to their master which would result in you being punished by him. You felt nothing more than dirt when he hit your hands if not your calves with a rod, tears in your eyes as you were forced to listen to his cooing, words of love, speaking of pain as he was forced to punish his oh so sweet lovely dear who just never listened to him.

You didn't want him anywhere near you, but you stifled all your complaints when you watched his eyes become cold the moment you tried to take a step out of line. So you kept it to yourself as your legs in his commands stayed still, as you showed your hands so that he could smear medicine on where he hit. Wanting nothing more than to hide yourself when you were forced to help him move your skirt so that he could place that cooling medicine in your calves. You were ashamed and embarrassed yet you could not do anything. 

Nothing at all.

Yet the more you stayed in this nightmarish mansion the more open secrets you found.

"I heard that you have caused some trouble with the maids, you know they would be the ones serving you later when you marry me. You should be kinder to them." 

"What happened to them..." You asked, shivering as you pushed yourself further on the bed, wanting anything but to be near the man who was the cause of it.

There was a rumor actually going around one of many about the servants in the viscount's house. When a person enters the mansion as a servant or maid there is a chance you will never see them again, and even if you did they would become a whole different person.

The viscount must have done something, something to make sure that whenever they went out they looked normal to an extent yet at the same time would rather kill themselves than leak a single word about their master. Except for a few who told you about the food and baths no one really spoke unless spoken to. Yet even then there was always this lifelessness in their tone, dead.

They were unbothered by what their master was doing to you, not one reaction did they create when you begged them for help. They wore blindfolds, the viscount didn't care for them but it feels that it was his way of showing his care for you. (Or maybe he wanted to see the shock in your eyes the moment you realize what actually happened to them.) It was by mistake you took off the blindfold of the maid, as you held your breath at their dead, hollow eyes lacking life. There was nothing in those eyes as if there were no memories, no life, nothing. 

They were nothing more than living dead puppets.

"What did you do to those people..." You whispered, flinching when he took another step towards you. Tears were in your eyes as you watched him stop as if to think. You were scared, frightened of what he would do. Could do to you. You thought those were slave tattoos that were banned from the kingdom due to how they would cause painful physical harm to the person, how it was inhumane. Due to its nature, the king banned it a few generations ago. 

"How..."

"Pfft." You flinched at the viscount reaction, trying to hold his chuckle at the back of his hand as he looked away for a moment. After chuckles and coughs escaped his lips he looked back at you again, walking closer to you again. "My dear, your mind thinks of amazing situations. Even I know that slave seals are banned in the kingdom. Why would I risk myself for something like that? I would also be placing you in danger when you are going to become mine soon."

Not that you weren't already. You saw it in his eyes, that he looked at you as if you were his own property.

Taking a seat on the bed that you were chained to he looked at you tilting his head, his smile was mocking as if asking if you were really that dumb. "You are just so cute dear. Let me explain it so that my fiance would understand." Raising his hands he motioned you to come towards him.

You didn't move, still scared, shivering like a small mouse much to his annoyance.

You yelped when your chained leg was roughly grabbed and pulled toward him. You looked fearfully towards the viscount who was staring down at you, his smile gone just for a moment. He raised his hand again, and you could not help but close your eyes till a hand touched your face in a gentle manner, it felt nothing but nauseating "Come here dear, get up. Let your fiance comfort you from your anguish."

But you didn't move, holding your hands near to your chest as you looked at him with fear. You were scared, so scared at the thought that the viscount would make you the same as those lifeless servants. Yet you were suddenly forced up but an invisible thing holding your arm roughly pulled you towards the viscount who caught you in ease. 

"Wha-" "Oh, so eager." That mocking tone again, so close to anger but also amused.

You yelled again, looking at your arms as they moved to their own accord around his neck while your legs also moved by themselves placing you on Viscount's lap. "So eager and so cute... Did you want to jump into my arms that much?" you heard him whisper in your ear as your face heated up in mortification, yet it was obvious that you were shivering still in fear, unable to forget what you saw. 

A small sound escaped your mouth as your body flinched when he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you tightly. "You are shivering dear, were you that afraid? I am sorry love, I should have been the one to come instead of the servants but you need to be punished after what you have done yesterday." Another tiny sound escaped your lips when he started to pat your back, tears flowing down your eyes. From the outside point of view, you looked like nothing but a tearful lady crying in her lover's arms begging him to forgive her, while he was nothing but patient.

You were glad that you could not see his face, as your tears stained the shoulder of his shirt. Patting your back his arm went back to hugging you tightly as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. It brought a chill down your spine. "Those servants are like this because I had to be sure that they would never leak any dangerous information. Many had tried already, I had to be cautious dear. I knew you would be scared of them so I had them cover their eyes." 

He placed a kiss on your shoulder again this time a little nearer to your neck. "The slave seal is banned and I would never dream of using it, so I made one of my own. The kind that is similar to the slave tattoo but would never hurt the wearer, it just keeps them in a trace, a dreamlike state, and only listens to orders."

You wanted to push him away, yet your arms that hugged his neck were locked in place, as your leg tried to curl around his leg without your command. You knew that he wasn't telling everything, that there was more to it as you wonder about the seal right below your belly button.

Your breath hitched when you felt him place his thumb on the seal, as you froze in your spot. Watching your reaction he laughed again, a laugh that sounded so cruel to your ears as he adjusted your body to move closer to him than what was before. 

Warmth touched your neck, his lips touching your neck. Hugging your waist tightly, it was suffocating yet it made him excited, the obsessive love in his eyes so painfully obvious, "My love, I would never do that to you. Your lovely face devoid of any feelings would only hurt me more. To make you a mindless thoughtless servant, that I could never do to you. You just need a little training compared to them..."

"Look at me." Your head did not listen to you, you did not want to look at him. Yet you had no choice but to show your crying face to the man who made you like this. Forced to make eye contact, you saw his obsessed greedy smile as he looked at your face. His eyes swirled with a crazed delight. 

You hate it.

You unconsciously jumped when he touched the seal again, there was a static that ran down your spine when he touched it. A foreign feeling that you didn't feel when you touched the seal yourself. Confused, you looked at him, eye round and asking which only made him laugh even more, "You are so adorable." He whispered as he pulled you closer so that your chests were touching. "So adorable, and mine. Forever mine." He whispered, your arms still wrapped around his neck he continued to mumble those words over and over again. His embrace tighter and tighter making it harder to breathe. "I will train you to become a lovely lady, that any other men and woman would look upon you with envy, yet your thoughts would only be infested with me."

Your body moved without your consent again, hugging just as tight. You didn't want this. "So cute. So cute. God it is so fun to watch you. Your body is still shivering and tears are still in your eyes. You are so cute." He laughed as he continued to say the same thing over and over again. "And you will be all mine officially too. Soon dear, in a few months you will be mine but for now you need to stay here okay? You still didn't finish your punishment too for slapping your poor fiance."

You flinched as he looked at you, feeling an immense pressure that was pushing you down the smile calculative and mischievous, "If you kiss me I will forgive you dear." He told you tilting his head.

You want anything but that, yet when you tried to push him away your body did anything but that as your hands on his shoulder pulled him closer instead. 

This was your punishment.

Yet nothing changed even after that. Nothing at all when your eyes were forced to read the books that talked about a prim and proper lady.

Every day in your mind you thought that this was your punishment. That you were weak, that you didn't know. Those misunderstandings between you and the prince were caused because you didn't try enough. The Viscount fed you well, even when you didn't have an appetite you tried to eat because of fear, cause you were fearful of the servants who looked after you. You were dressed "well" and taken care of. 

However, rather than a human you were almost treated like a doll. The chain was always there on your foot rather than useful; it was a reminder that you were trapped here.

Morning you were forced to study, manners that you learned when you were young you were forced to learn again with the viscounts teaching. He was more strict than your previous teachers, forcing you to do the same sets of movements again and again, from how you eat and how you drink tea. He wanted all the mannerisms drilled into your head so that you would be perfect. To how you walk and hold a teacup. You whelped in pain when he whips you from the small mistakes you have made. Your calves burned in pain and so did the palm of your hands.

Dancing was hell, he found everything wrong with each step. If you weren't able to do it, the punishment was simple as your body was forced to do the same movements over and over and over again. Depending on how skilled or how bad you were you could only become better as you were forced to dance the same song for hours on end. Your body holding the pose of holding the viscount shoulder and hand as he went away telling you to be good and continue practicing telling you that he would come back when he finishes work.

When he came back, you were sweating with a feverish tired look to your face as your body forced you to continue moving to the steps of the dance. More often than not you would fall into the arms of the viscount much to his delight. Asking if you finally memorize each and every step. Sometimes you could not answer too tired to do so and sometimes he was forgiving, other times not so much. You yelped in pain when you heard the loud smack, even while carrying you in his arms he was strong enough to hold you and land a slap on your butt for not answering. You would answer as soon as possible after that, scared that he would hit you again. 

It seems that much as he loved perfection, he also adored how fragile and weak you were in his arms. This idea of you being only able to rely on him. As he kissed your feet after taking off your dance shoes, watching you with a crazed lust in his eyes. Unable to pull away when all your energy had been taken away, you could do nothing but close your eyes away from the viscount and his taunting love.

There was even more training after that, he made so that each step you took reminded you of him whether that be the stinging pain of your butt after you had made the mistake of unconsciously trying to avoid him, or thin and revealing the clothes he made you wore were.

Silks and satins, short and over your knees essentially underwear in your eyes when the world viewed the showing of ankles to be too seductive and immoral dresses were the most covered-up clothes you were allowed to wear in the mansion. You hated the feeling of lifeless eyes that the servants had watching you.

And if he was feeling rather sadistic, he would mockingly manipulate your body to play to his whims.

On the day of the marriage, you could not help but stare at yourself in the mirror. You don't remember how many days you were trapped in the Viscount mansion. You wondered if you were broken, broken to the point that you had no willpower to even make a peep at your sufferings. You have long given up, too afraid of something worse you choose to fall. You were too afraid to resist and for him, this was nothing more than amusement. A satisfaction that you were his.

You could not run away, not when he held power over you. Not when he could manipulate your actions and steps. Nothing belonged to you, your life was signed away long ago ever since he saw you.

You thought of yourself as a marionette yet to him he thought of you as his lovely bride.

[nicolgue]

Blessed By War And Love

Summary: Love and war is not something that you would think goes together but what happens when they do? You are the daughter of a Greek king friend of Odysseus and Penelope, what happens when you and Telemachus fall in love in the events of the Odyssey?

Warnings: this chapter doesn't have warnings I think besides spelling mistakes.

A/N: the art is not mine.

Prologue / Chapter one

The first time you met prince Telemachus was when you were one year old and he was two years old, a year after both your dad's went to war, your mother had visited queen Penelope and took you and your brothers, you don't remember much of it of course but your mother always tells you that since that moment both her and queen Penelope knew your future.

Throughout the years  you and your family constantly visited the family of Ithaca and they visited you, once or twice a year and when you were younger your mom let you play with the boys and those were from your happiest memories, you would sword fight mostly but there were much more games you would play with your brothers and prince Telemachus. Your older brother was 5 years older than you and prince Telemachus was one year older than you and your twin so the four of you were very close. One time when you were seven years old you fell and you scraped your knee and prince Telemachus helped you go with your mother.

When you turned ten years old your mother decided it was time for you to start being a lady and prepare you for when you get committed to marriage so the next time that your family visited Ithaca you weren't allowed to play with the boys and you had to stay with your mother and queen Penelope, sometimes your mother would let you go to the garden with the condition that you would behave.

"You have to be like a princess Y/N" that's what your mother always told you.

You didn't love it but you did like to talk with your mother and queen Penelope they always said to you that you were so beautiful and that you would be a great wife.

One day when you were twelve years old your mother told you that she needed you to go to the garden.

"Me and your mother need to talk privately dear" said queen Penelope, she has always been so sweet with you, like you were her own daughter.

So you went to the garden, you liked to look at the flower in the garden and walk through the paths they were beautiful and there was a statute of king Odysseus Wich made you remember your father, you never met him but you liked to think that he loved you and that he would do anything to get back to you and your family. One particular day you were walking on a path of the gardens when you saw prince Telemachus walking towards you, you started talking to him like when you were kids but with the manners that you have been taught in your lessons.

"Would you let me join in your walk?" Asked Telemachus

"Of course" You responded with a small smile. "Tired of my brothers?" Normally when you visited Telemachus would spend the whole day with your brothers but this time he was wandering on he's own gardens.

"No it's just that I saw you walking around and I thought it would be nice if you had someone to talk to" Oh that's nice of him. "Besides we haven't had a meaningful conversation in two years" That's true since you started your lessons you couldn't talk to him much. "Let me take you somewhere" he told you while taking your hand in he's. He took you through a lot of parts of the palace until you were out of the palace, he took you to a hill until there you saw a small bench between two trees arched around it, it was beautiful. "I found this place wandering around it's beautiful isn't it?" He asked you

"Beautiful? It's precious" he invited you to sit at the little bench. That day you two talked about a lot of things, your life, he's life, he's lessons, your kingdoms, your mother's, your brothers, he's dog, everything that came to the mind of the two of you. When it started to get late They returned to the palace and your family returned to their kingdom.

After that every time you visited Ithaca or the prince and he's mother visited your family, Telemachus and you would talk in the gardens of your palaces. The year that you turned fifteen years old was the day that changed your life. Telemachus and queen Penelope were visiting your family, like always you were with both queens.

"Y/N dear, can you go for your older brother?" asked your mother. When you returned Telemachus was next to he's mother and she smiled at you then turned to her son.

"Please son can you and Y/N go to the gardens? We need to discuss something but later we need to talk to you two" asked to he's son. Telemachus smiles to he's mother's request.

"Of course mother" he told her and then looked at you with the same smile, I nodded and then we went to the gardens.

The walk to the gardens was very silent between you two, it was unusual but when you got to the gardens he looked at you with a small smile in he's face. "Happy birthday princess Y/N" he told you and you laughed at him, he's expression changed to confusion "Why are you laughing?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, it's just that we have known each other all our lives, I'm sure you can call me just Y/N" you were smiling the whole time

"Happy birthday Y/N then" he handed you a beautiful blue hyacinth. "I hope this year is full of happiness for you"

You took the flower from him "My gods, Telemachus it's beautiful, thank you" you looked at him with a smile from ear to ear he's heart jumping when he saw the glow in your eyes. You kept talking for what felt like hours.

"Y/N!" Yelled your older brother "Mother says that you and prince Telemachus need to come here" Telemachus extended he's right arm indicating you to pass first. When you got to where your mothers were both of them were smiling at you, your mother looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"What's happening mother?" You asked her.

"So me, your brother and queen Penelope have been talking and after a long talk we came to the conclusion of something" your mom said still looking a little sad but happy? At the same time. You looked at Telemachus to know what was happening but he just smiled at you.

"We decided you are going to live in Ithaca" said your brother.

"Why?" You asked again a little confused still

"After talking to my son and now to your mother and brother we have come to the best conclusion" queen Penelope told you, she was smiling too "You and Telemachus are now betrothed".