#i finally read the cruel prince

[the-sun-is-also-a-star]

KITTY FOR U

KITTY FOR MOI? OH A THOUSAND BLESSING FOR YOU <3

[darth-nikeon]

Jude: Everything reminds me of you

Cardan: Including...cockroaches?

Jude: Yeah

Cardan: Awww... Wait a minute.

[orangespottedgiraffe]

Not her snitching on her sister like that

After all she did and then to be like she was dancing with him

I would’ve beat her ass after I got out that room

Also I’m not done yet

Not her choosing a man over her own sister her own mortal sister literal twin sister what

[elenagoeslightly]

i lied (to myself) and instead of reading the cruel prince, i will read twisted love.

[slumbering-shadows]

Now I remember why I stopped reading/writing and it is because I cannot do either like a normal person once I start going I Cannot Stop or I will become physically ill until I am satisfied with the ending.

Anyway I left my books in the car and I'm not going into a big city parking lot into the middle of the night alone so I guess I'm going to puke hhhhhhhh

[sexysilverstrider]

while the cruel prince series is still my favourite fantasy book the twisted series has a special place in my heart because of how cartoony the characters are

[xoxzso]

[chubby-bun-bun]

heavy is the crown

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

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

read on ao3

You dared to dream once upon a time.

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

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

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

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

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

“I do.”

—

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

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

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

You naturally had many—to your dismay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The ultimate conquest for any conqueror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

The general.

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

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

His gaze found yours, and you stilled.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

The enemies had fallen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can only hope the same.

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

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

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

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

“Good evening, princess.” 

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

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

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

You blink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you grit out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“General—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You flash a glare, before nodding reluctantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… kind of? I don’t know…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“General—hah—Sylus… What are you—?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He responds with a particularly sharp suck at your nipple.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feel free to take a look,” he rasps.

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

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

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

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

You feel too empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your answering sob is all the reply you can muster.

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

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

“Let it happen, princess, I got you.”

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

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

“You alright, princess?”

You don’t respond.

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

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

A series of sharp knocks echoes through the room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, in the end, none of that matters.

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

check out my other works!

[moths-and-crows]

mmmmmmmm it feels so good to love something again

[melzula]

My HC is that since Zuko is royalty, the heir, and also commanded his fleet on his hunt for the avatar, he’s used to taking charge. But the way I’m thinking of it is him being casually dominant with the y/n. Things like using a soft but firm voice to make sure they eat enough, that they’re warm, putting his hand on their thigh to keep it from shaking, etc. the gaang would start to notice how it takes one look from Zuko and y/n complies. Wrapping his hand around their hips to bring them down to sit in his lap, subtly tugging their skirt down when it rides up, stuff like that.

Could I please request some of your amazing writing for casual dominance with Zuko?

pairing: Zuko x reader

notes: okay so this was actually pretty challenging to write just bc i had to be careful about not making zuko come off as too controlling while also still fulfilling the details of the request. however i think it came out pretty good !

summary: Zuko shows his love for you the only way he knows how to

To those on the outside, your relationship with Zuko appeared to be… odd.

No one could quite determine whether he saw you as an equal or as someone who needed to be taken care of. Everyone knew you could handle your own; you’d been a skilled swordsman during the war and a master at hand-to-hand combat. No one doubted your ability to fend for yourself, but it seemed once you began dating the Fire Lord there was no longer any need for you to do so. Zuko took care of you, and being with him meant never having to lift a finger and never having to worry again. You were his prized jewel, and he took it upon himself to care for you in the only way he knew how.

Growing up, the Prince had never properly learned how to show affection or lovingly nurture a relationship. His parents weren’t the greatest example, and his father’s coldness left much to desire. However, his upbringing as a royal and his time commanding a fleet during his search for the Avatar allowed him to grow into a leader. In his younger years he’d been hotheaded and impulsive, but with time he had learned to be firm yet fair. He was a benevolent leader who only wished to do what was best for his people, and this same thought process extended to you.

You’d missed dinner one night and left him waiting in the throne room, too engrossed in your studies to realize how much time had passed or just how hungry you were. Your stomach growled incessantly and your head was beginning to ache, but you were adamant about finishing your book. Having recently been proposed to by the Fire Lord, you took it upon yourself to read up on the history of the Fire Nation and your expected duties as Fire Lady. You were overwhelmed, and eating dinner was the last thing on your mind.

“Y/n,” he had called, startling you out of your focused state as you rested your gaze upon his figure in the doorway. “We were supposed to have dinner together, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you uttered bashfully, using your book to shield your embarrassed features. “I must have lost track of time. Let me just finish this last page and then I’ll-“

“Y/n,” he repeated with a pointed look, one that had you slowly lowering your text.

“Yes, Zuko,” you had finally relented. You couldn’t ignore your growling stomach any longer, and so you’d tossed your book aside and taken the arm he’d offered for you before allowing him to escort you to the dining room.

Zuko wasn’t strict, wasn’t cruel, just firm. It was his way of showing he cared for you, and you took no offense to how he so often liked to be the one in charge. Whether it be in his actions or in his tone of voice, he took the lead and you followed. This wasn’t to say that you didn’t have a mind or will of your own, but often times Zuko took it upon himself to step in whenever he felt you weren’t taking care of yourself the way he believed you should be.

His love could be conveyed through mundane actions such as wordlessly slipping your shawl over your shoulders without you having to ask to ensure you won’t be cold during a stroll in the palace gardens or resting a comforting hand on your thigh to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg during an important meeting. Anyone and everyone could see the influence he held over you, the dominant role he’d taken in your relationship, and you happily fell into place with him.

“Don’t you think it’s just a little weird?” Sokka had noted once to his sister after watching Zuko carefully wrap his fingers along your hips and delicately pull your figure into his lap as if he were handling a porcelain doll. You looked radiant in your silk robes and ceremonial makeup, a look picked out by Zuko to ease your anxieties over your lack of knowledge of traditional Fire Nation fashion, and as the Fire Lord’s fiancé you were the talk of the ball.

“Maybe it does seem like Zuko is usually the one in charge,” Katara had agreed thoughtfully, her gaze carefully resting upon your features to search for any sign of discontent or restlessness. Of course, she found none. “But I know y/n, and if she had a problem with it she would have stood up for herself and said something about it.”

The siblings watched as you conversed with various guests, your smile sincere as you spoke with the people you would soon help rule over as Fire Lady. Shifting in your seat as you crossed your legs, Zuko took note of the way the slit of your skirt had partially opened to reveal your bare leg. Wordlessly and without interrupting your conversation, the Fire Lord shifted the fabric so that your skin was kept from prying eyes. He didn’t care in the slightest if anyone saw, but he knew you would be embarrassed if guests began to question your way of dress, so he took it upon himself to fix the problem for you.

“I think it’s a love language thing,” Katara had explained after removing her attention from the scene and returning it to her brother. “He’s showing he cares through actions instead of words. Maybe it’s the only way he knows how to.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sokka relented, though his features still displayed a mild sense of disgust. “But that doesn’t make it any less oogier.”

Maybe no one on the outside ever truly would be able to comprehend the dynamics of your relationship with Zuko, but it wasn’t for them to understand. He took care of you and loved you in the only way he truly knew how to, and you appreciated him endlessly. With Zuko as your soon-to-be husband, you knew you’d always have someone looking after your best interests. All the same, Zuko knew he’d always have someone to love and accept him for who he was.

You were a perfect match.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

For the jace and baela scene, reader could be a Tyrell or dornish? I saw that you liked them. I want her to be light and sweet and compassionate, but able to hold jace’s character.

When I saw this scene in the leaks, I had to re-write it...and add the cuteness the show did not

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Jacaerys had not been present when Rhaenyra's great plan turned into a carnage. His hatred for the dragonseeds was so strong you fear he would have taken a small pleasure watching them burn. 

A shiver ran down your back at the images. 

You thought it was cruel of the Queen to block the doors when Vermithor blazed fire on the dragonseeds who tried to get inside. But you understood Rhaenyra’s decision. There were other dragons on the island. Wild ones. These people all had a drop of Valyrian blood in them. They could claim one of the wild dragons...and turn on her — as Jacaerys feared. 

By eliminating them, it lessened the chances of someone claiming a wild dragon and using it against her.

After a bearded man named Hugh finally claimed Vermithor, you went looking for your betrothed. He was not outside with Vermax, nor in his chambers. 

Noticing the frown on your brows and your pacing in the corridors, a guard informed you that he saw the prince heading to the library hours ago. You thanked him, and found Jacaerys sitting at a table with a hoard of books around him. He must have come here when he saw the dragonseeds arriving on Dragonstone. 

From your angle, you could see a pout on his lips as he rested his head on his fist. His back was to you, so he didn’t see you come in. 

‘’It does not befit a prince to pout.’’ Your tone was teasing and light, contrasting to his sulking.

‘’I’m not pouting,’’ Jacaerys denied, not moving. 

You took the stack of books from the chair next to his and set it on the table so you could sit on the chair. ‘’What would you call it, then?’’ You raised a brow and poked his pushed out lips.

It usually put his pouting to an end, but his face stayed icy. ‘’I’m reading,’’ he said, turning the page of the book before him. 

‘’While your mother waits?’’ 

He ignored your question, still upset and bitter about the bastard dragonseeds.

A part of you understood Rhaenyra's desire for wanting riders for the two unclaimed dragons. She never thought it would be possible, but Adam of Hull proved to her that the Valyrian blood in bastards was strong enough to claim Seasmoke. Having more dragons on her side will benefit her against the Greens and Vhagar.

But another was aching for Jacaerys. He was made fun of all his childhood for his non-Valyrian features, and these bastards were praised for succeeding in claiming a dragon. 

‘’You’re angry,’’ you stated, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him. 

You’ve been comforting him a lot lately, but nothing you knew seemed to work today. 

Jacaerys finally turned to look at you, his eyes hard from his anger. ‘’Aren’t you?’’ 

You released a breath. ‘’I don’t see what good it would do.’’

‘’They are insults to us. To what makes us Targaryen. If any common lout can ride a dragon, then—’’ 

‘’That does not make you common!’’ 

In the year and half you had known Jacaerys, it was striking to you that he had nothing of a common-born. He was raised as royalty, and educated like a prince — an heir. He was well-behaved, silver tongued, and the son of Queen Rhaenyra. He carried her royal blood. 

He glanced at you again, then turned away to stare at the table. ‘’You know what I am…’’ 

‘’I don’t care,’’ you said truly. 

In Dorne, bastards were not looked down upon the way they are in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. But they did not inherit from their parents the same as their legitimate children. They were acknowledged, cared after, but never allowed to claim a crown or title that had not been given to them. 

‘’You are the crown prince,’’ you continued, ‘’the son of the rightful Queen, and here you are sulking because you believe that if not for the dragon, or the trappings of your station, that you are nothing.’’ You took Jacaerys’ hand in yours, chuckling lightly. ‘’Do you believe you are the first noble heir who was not sired by his noble father? Such is the way of the world, Jace, and in resenting it, you only diminish yourself.’’

Jacaerys leaned his head back on the chair, still pouting. ‘’Easy enough to say. I’ve heard the whispers the whole of my life.’’ You could hear the deep rooted trauma and scars in his voice. 

‘’Then prove to them that you are worthy. Get up and take your place by your mother’s side. You and she had your differences lately, but she’ll never replace you by one of them. No one can replace a mother's first son.’’ 

He was silent for a few moments, staring at the ceiling of the dark library, and took in your words. No one can replace a mother's first son. She had him when she herself was a child. There was no one she loved more than him. 

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes softening. Your reassurances made him see reason. He was still upset, but he found comfort in your words. 

He gripped your hand, and pulled you close. Closeness was his way of finding comfort. When you were settled upon his lap, his hands went to your hips, holding you against him. 

Even then, you noticed he was still pouting. You thought the gesture was utterly cute, but you wouldn’t tell him that. 

You gently tilted his head to look at you and leaned down to kiss him. ‘’No more pouting.’’

—

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[madamabelladonna]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝: House Dayne of Starfall, bearing the sigil of a white falling star and a sword on a field of lavender. Though sparse in men and coin, House Dayne is renowned as one of the oldest in Westeros. Sworn to House Martell, under the decree of their liege lord, Lord Julius Dayne dispatched the Sword of the Morning, his second son, Ser Merek Dayne, along with his only daughter, to King’s Landing as emissaries of Dorne. Little did they know, the twinkle of a star could ignite the passions of men, dragons, and wolves alike. 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Romance, Angst, Love Triangle, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Drama, Coming-of-Age, Explicit Content, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Violence, Gore, War, Reader eating cheerios with Luke and Helaena while Jace, Cregan, and Aemond duke it out 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞 Young Lady Dayne never truly grasped what it meant to be a high-born lady; her mother and father had sheltered her from the vipers lurking in the shadows. Yet, as fate would have it, their protection could only shield her for so long before she was cast into a den brimming with treachery. Green or Black? The choice is hers, but she finds herself drawn to the hue of violet…

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 Young Lady Dayne, finds herself adjusting to her new life at the capital. A gift from Starfall, a steed with a mane like freshly fallen snow. As she immerses herself in the pages of her books, a small figure unexpectedly scampers into her chamber—a boy lost in the game of hide and seek. She finds herself teaching the boy how to read. Only to be seated in the company of Princess Rhaenyra and her small family, sharing a quiet tea.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐀𝐟𝐚𝐫 Young Lady Dayne, awaiting Jacaerys' lesson's end, enjoys tea with Princess Rhaenyra, who grants her access to the Royal Library due to her rare gifts. As she reads beneath the heart tree, a prince in green watches her, sparking jealousy within the eldest son of Rhaenyra. With Jacaerys' eighth name day nearing, their growing relationship seems to be all the court can talk about.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐕: 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐡𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 Young Lady Dayne captivated the feast held by King Viserys in honor of his grandson, her presence and dance stirring much interest among the court. The murmurs of a possible union between the Seven Kingdoms and The Principality of Dorne swirled in the air, though beneath the revelry, rumors threatened to unravel such hopes.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕: 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐲 Young Lady Dayne knew survival in the Red Keep required more than caution—it demanded influence. After keeping her distance from Jacaerys, she finally accepted his apology, truly forgiving him. But as he left, she realized it might be long before she saw him again. In his place, a prince in green awaited.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈: 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦 Young Lady Dayne watched the Red Keep, no longer as crimson as it once had been, now draped in the creeping embrace of ivy and moss. It looked more like an overgrown garden than a fortress of kings. Only Aemond, with his hard gaze and sharper tongue, stirred no sympathy. But Helaena—sweet Helaena—her heart ached for the gentle princess. Such a delicate flower, doomed to marry the vile Aegon. How cruel the gods could be.

[More in pending...]

This is my first post so I hope you like it, personally, House Dayne is my favorite and I hope it gets more recognition in the next book.

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[yaniluvs]

wings of a broken heart, fly away 日 ── stranded human falls for the faerie who heals him, but love masks a cruel fate.

𓍯 prince!hyunjin ʚଓ fem-faerie!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 14k ── ༯ ONESHOT, fantasy, mystical, skz ensemble, humor, romance, gore, fluff, flirting, kisses, open ending, hurting, faerieland, royal au, mystery, clean, heartbreak (if it wasn't obvious from the title.. ><), cliffhanger, major plot twist, blood, betrayals. ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ yani's active era now in action. y'all are not gonna like this one.. correct me if i'm wrong in the comments ;) !! a warning, hope you're mentally prepared for this, and please reread the info. so that you don't come attack me after.. !! i don't think it really came out as i wanted it to, but well, it's out anyway. i could do better, sorry if it wasn't to your expectations !! kinda different from my usual works :<. please note this is all out of my mere delusions and imaginations ; nothing relates to the idol irl, and it’s all fiction, so take it with a grain of salt. comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the dewmist woods were alive with a thousand shades of green. sunlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the moss-covered ground in soft gold. the air carried the mingling scents of wildflowers, dew, and the sweet aroma of nectar. this wasn’t an ordinary forest—it was an untouched realm, brimming with magic and mystery. trees towered into the heavens, their trunks wrapped in glowing vines, while exotic fruits of every imaginable hue hung from branches. the fruits shimmered like jewels—pearly white starfruits, golden berries that sparkled like fireflies, and plum-sized fruits that emitted a soft lilac glow.  

outside of the woods, by the shore, a clearing bustled with activity. a makeshift boat, carefully pieced together over years of labor, rested on a carpet of moss. it was a beautiful thing—its base carved from sturdy driftwood and reinforced with planks salvaged from shipwrecks found near the island's shores. the sails were stitched together from woven leaves, strengthened with threads of a fabric that resembled a bit with silk, with a hint of magic. the boat’s elegance was matched only by the bittersweet air surrounding it.  

y/n stood a few paces away, her light brown hair catching the sun as she watched her friends—family, now, make the final preparations. she wore a flowing dress of woven golden petals, its edges fluttering like butterfly wings with each soft breeze. her wings, radiant and white with streaks of yellow, were hidden for now, as they often were when she felt nervous or uncertain. and today, she was both.  

“y/n, stop fidgeting,” came a teasing voice.  

she turned to see one of the eldest in the crew, adjusting the strap of a small pack slung across his shoulder. his raven hair gleamed, and his sharp eyes, though calm, held a glimmer of warmth. he looked like he always did—steady, dependable, and just a little smug.  

“i’m not fidgeting!” y/n shot back, crossing her arms but unable to suppress a smile. “i’m just… making sure everything’s okay.”  

“everything is fine, little fae,” the actual oldest called from the other side of the clearing, his blonde hair catching the light like spun gold. he was carrying a barrel onto the boat with ease, his strength making the task look effortless. “we’ve triple-checked everything. right, yaena?”  

the lilac-haired elf nodded as she secured her quiver of arrows onto the side of the boat. her voice was calm and steady as always. “yes, but that doesn’t mean you get to slack off now, chris. we still need to balance the supplies better.”  

“i’m not slacking off! i’m just saying y/n doesn’t need to worry so much,” chris replied with a playful grin.  

“she worries because she cares,” rina interjected, her brown hair tied back in a braid adorned with small, glowing flowers. she was arranging bundles of food—berries, fruits, and enchanted nuts—into small satchels. “and honestly, we could use a little more care sometimes.”  

“stop babying her,” minho said, though there was no bite to his words. he glanced at y/n with a smirk. “you’ll have felix here. if anything happens, he’ll just turn invisible and scare away whatever comes your way.”  

felix, who was leaning against a tree with his silver hair catching the light, gave a soft chuckle. the younger one's deep voice carried effortlessly. “i don’t think that’s how invisibility works, but i’ll do my best.” he looked at y/n and added, “don’t worry, y/nnie. i’ll make sure nothing happens while they’re gone.” he pat her head, exaggerating his words. 

“i’m not a kid, you know,” y/n protested, pouting slightly, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “and i don’t need protection.”  

felix raised an eyebrow. “right. because you’re going to take down a wild boar with your healing magic?”  

y/n stuck out her tongue at him, and the group burst into laughter. “if i have to, i might!”    

the humor did little to mask the weight of what was happening. this was the day. after years of dreaming, planning, and building, chris, minho, yaena, and rina were finally leaving dewmist woods in search of their kind. it wasn’t an easy choice—they all knew the island was a haven, and the outside world was an unknown. but the island had once been filled with faeries, elves, and other magical beings, and they couldn’t ignore the call to find out what had happened to them.  

“alright, everyone, gather up!” chris called, clapping his hands.  

the group formed a loose circle around the boat. the atmosphere shifted, becoming more somber.  

he spoke first, his voice steady. “we don’t know how long this journey will take, but we promise to come back. and when we do, we’ll bring answers—maybe even more of our kind.”  

yaena stepped forward, placing a hand on y/n’s shoulder. “take care of the forest while we’re gone. it’s our home, and it’s still full of magic. protect it, and protect each other.”  

rina gave y/n a tight hug. “we’re going to miss your singing. don’t let felix teach you any bad habits while we’re gone.”  

“i heard that,” felix muttered, though his tone was fond.  

finally, minho crouched slightly to look y/n in the eye. his expression softened, something rare for him when he's with others; but definitely usual when he's with his favorite younger—who was more of a little sister . “stay safe, y/n. and don’t forget—you’re stronger than you think. even if you’re not out there fighting, you’re the heart of this group.”  

y/n blinked quickly, trying to hold back tears. she nodded, her voice small but steady. “you all better come back. promise me.”  

“we promise,” chris said, placing a hand over his heart.  

the group exchanged final hugs, their voices overlapping with goodbyes, reassurances, and half-teasing remarks to lighten the mood.  

as the boat finally pushed off, its sails catching the gentle breeze, y/n and felix stood at the water’s edge, watching it grow smaller in the distance.  

“you okay?” felix asked after a moment, his deep voice breaking the silence.  

y/n nodded, though her chest felt tight. “yeah. i just.. i hope they find what they’re looking for.”  

“they will,” felix said confidently. “and until then, we’ve got this place to take care of.”

y/n turned to look at him, her wings fluttering briefly into view before disappearing again. “you’re right. dewmist woods is still our home.”  

and so, as the boat disappeared beyond the horizon, y/n and felix turned back toward the vibrant, magical forest. they were the last guardians of dewmist woods, and no matter what came their way, they would protect it.  

the forest hummed with life, but y/n couldn’t shake the ache of loneliness in her chest. it had been days since the others had left, and though felix was nearby, she still felt the absence of their vibrant presence—chris’s booming laugh, minho’s sarcastic quips, rina’s soft encouragement, and yaena’s calm reassurances. the hut, usually filled with warmth and chatter, now felt quiet and hollow.  

after pacing around the home for what felt like the hundredth time, she decided she couldn’t stay cooped up any longer. she slipped out, leaving the hut behind.

bare feet kissed the earth as she stepped into the sun-dappled clearing, her delicate wings unfurling behind her. a cascade of soft yellow and white shimmered in the light, their glow akin to moonbeams caught in the gossamer threads of a spider’s web. her wings were as ethereal as a dream, a living tapestry of light and silk, yet they carried the ghost of an old wound—a wound from a time too distant to remember fully but too near and painful to ever forget.

a long, jagged tear marred the right wing’s perfect symmetry, a place where once, sharp brambles had cut too deep, too unforgiving. even now, the slightest brush of wind or a careless twig sent tendrils of pain radiating through her, a reminder of her fragility. her wings, though lovely, were a burden as much as a gift.

her fingers trembled as they hovered over the scarred place. she felt the familiar sting of weakness simmering beneath her skin. she could fly—but the price was always too high. every lift of her body into the air drained her strength, left her breathless and trembling until her feet longed for the solidity of the earth once more.

and so, she avoided the skies.

with a deep breath, she let her wings droop gently, their glow dimming like a waning candle. the ache in her heart remained, but she pressed onward. the soft grass curled around her toes as she wandered further into the woods. each step was slow, deliberate, but there was a kind of power in that slowness, a quiet strength in choosing to walk when the world expected her to soar.

so yes, she was a faerie—but one who trusted the ground beneath her feet more than the sky that whispered promises her fragile wings could not keep.

— ༊ ࿐

the walk to the shore was peaceful, the sun filtering gently through the canopy above, painting the mossy ground with golden light. she stopped to talk to a cluster of butterflies, their wings shimmering with iridescent hues, their tiny, fluttering voices soothing in her mind. a few pixies, no taller than her hand, flitted by, laughing as they danced in spirals around her.  

when she reached the shoreline, the world opened up. the sea stretched endlessly before her, glittering like liquid sapphire. the waves lapped gently against the sand, the soft breeze carrying with it the salty tang of the ocean. y/n sat down near the water, her wings catching the sunlight and casting a warm, ethereal glow around her. she drew idle shapes in the sand, humming softly to herself.  

but then, something unusual caught her eye.  

at the far edge of the shore, where the coastline curved sharply and jagged rocks jutted out into the water, there was something out of place—a wreckage. a small, broken boat lay partially submerged, its hull splintered and leaning against the rocks. the wood was dark, soaked with seawater, and the sails hung in torn shreds.  

y/n froze for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. the sight was foreign to her; her mind raced with questions. what could it be? who could it belong to?

slowly, curiosity overtook her hesitance.  

she rose to her feet, brushing the sand off her dress, and made her way toward the wreck. her wings shimmered faintly as they fluttered behind her, reflecting her rising nerves.  

when she reached the boat, she noticed the strange objects scattered around it. bits of metal tools, a shattered lantern, and a few soaked, crumbling scrolls were strewn across the sand. everything seemed alien, unfamiliar—nothing like the natural world she’d always known.  

and then she saw him.  

lying on the sand, just beyond the wreckage, was a figure. a human..?  

y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and her wings instinctively folded tighter against her back. she had never seen a human before. the stories, paintings, and faded memories left on the island described them as strange, otherworldly beings. her friends had always debated what humans might be like—dangerous, kind, curious—but none of them had ever expected to see one.  

her wide eyes scanned him cautiously. he was motionless, his body partially turned on its side, one arm sprawled out in the sand. he was tall, much taller than she’d imagined humans might be, and his frame seemed strong, even though his posture was limp with unconsciousness.  

for a moment, she hesitated. should she approach him? what if he woke up and harmed her? but then her gaze shifted to the dark stain of blood seeping through the sleeve of his shirt and the jagged wound on his thigh. her heart pained.  

steeling herself, she stepped closer, her bare feet sinking into the cool sand. she crouched down beside him, her dress fanning out around her. his face was obscured by long, damp strands of black hair, clinging to his skin from seawater.  

she reached out hesitantly, her hand trembling as she brushed the hair away from his face.  

and then she saw him.  

his face was… unlike anything she had ever imagined. his features were sharp and elegant, almost unreal in their beauty. his skin was pale, almost translucent in the sunlight, with a soft sheen from the water. his jawline was defined, his lips pink and full, parted slightly as he breathed shallowly.  

but it was the small details that captivated her most. a single mole rested beneath one of his closed eyes, adding an endearing softness to his otherwise striking face. his long lashes lay against his cheeks, dark and feathery, as though they held secrets of faraway lands. he wore a loose white shirt that clung to his chest, now torn in places, the sleeves folded halfway, right above the elbow, and black ragged pants that had seen better days. the fabric was unlike anything on the island, both strange and fascinating.  

y/n’s heart raced as she took in his appearance. she had never seen a face other than her own reflection in the crystalline water, or her friends’ familiar features. although there were plenty of similarities, this was entirely new—entirely human. his curved ears, unlike hers that were edged and pointy at the top, his body slightly larger than hers, and hair midnight.

she reached out again, her fingers hovering near the mole under his eye, but she drew back before touching him.  

he was hurt. the blood on his arm and thigh stained the sand beneath him, the red a stark contrast to the pale gold of the beach. the wound above his elbow looked deep, the torn fabric of his shirt revealing raw, jagged skin.  

y/n’s instincts kicked in. as a faerie whose ability was healing even the deepest wounds, you could say that she could never try to hurt a singular ant, let alone, a bigger.. being. the sight of blood and pain made her heart wrench with emotion, tears pooling her eyes.

she glanced around the shore, her mind racing for a solution. but the wreckage held no answers, only more questions. how had he ended up here? where had he come from?  

for a moment, she faltered. what if she wasn’t ready to face this? she was the youngest, the least experienced. the others would have known what to do.  

but as she looked back at his peaceful, unconscious face, her resolve hardened.  

“i can’t just leave you here,” she murmured softly, her voice barely audible over the waves. her wings flickered faintly, as if agreeing with her decision.  

she placed a hand gently on his shoulder, her fingers brushing the wet fabric of his shirt. “i’ll help you. somehow.”  

and with that, she made her choice.

the rhythmic crashing of the waves faded into the background as the faerie focused on the unconscious human before her. her hands hovered hesitantly over the wound on his arm, her breath unsteady. the dark red gash seemed deep, the skin torn and swollen. blood had soaked through his torn sleeve and pooled on the sand beneath him.  

she glanced at his face again, his sharp features softened by unconsciousness. despite his unfamiliarity, her heart ached to see anyone in such a state. he must’ve been through something terrible, she thought.  

taking a deep breath, y/n closed her eyes. her wings began to glow faintly, an ethereal yellow-white light that grew brighter with every passing moment. she moved her hands closer to the wound, and as she did, a soft golden light spread from her palms. her wings radiated energy, filling the air around her with warmth and calm.  

the wound on his arm began to close, the torn skin knitting itself together under the glow of her touch. she moved her hands to his thigh, repeating the process. her aura shimmered brighter now, wrapping both of them in a cocoon of light. even the faint scratches on his face faded under her care, leaving only smooth, pale skin behind.  

her energy pulsed gently as the last of his injuries disappeared. the light dimmed, her wings flickering faintly before the glow receded entirely. y/n exhaled, her hands trembling slightly from the effort. he was still unconscious, but his breathing was steady, no longer labored or shallow.  

“i-i did it,” she whispered, relief washing over her. “you're not hurting now.” 

but now came the next challenge: she couldn’t leave him exposed here on the shore. the sea breeze was cool, and the open beach left him vulnerable. she couldn’t risk felix finding him either; she knew her protective friend would forbid her from getting involved.  

y/n crouched beside him, her small hands hooking under his shoulders as she tried to drag him toward the trees. despite his lean frame, he was heavier than she expected, his boots dragging lines in the sand as she pulled with all her strength.  

“why are humans so big?” she grumbled under her breath, her voice light but strained.  

finally, she managed to get him under the shade of a large tree near the edge of the forest. the area was secluded enough to hide him from prying eyes but close enough to the beach that she could keep watch. she laid him down carefully, brushing sand off his clothes as she straightened his arm.  

“stay here,” she murmured softly, glancing at his still face. she bit her lip, debating for a moment before turning and heading back to the heart of the forest, to their hut.  

... minutes later.

the walk back was nerve-wracking. every rustle of leaves made her jump, every shift of the forest’s shadows made her glance over her shoulder.

what am i even doing? she wondered, her fingers clutching the edges of her glowing dress. felix would never approve if he knew.  

thankfully, the hut was empty when she returned. she quickly gathered a basket of fruits, her hands trembling as she selected the ripest ones. mango-like pulms, plump red sunberries, and a handful of yellow starfruits were arranged neatly. she added a flask of fresh water and some bread they’d made the day before.  

by the time she returned to the tree, the human was still unconscious, his chest rising and falling steadily. she set the basket down beside him and crouched behind a nearby bush, her wings tucked tightly against her back as she waited.  

she didn’t have to wait long.  

a soft groan broke the stillness, followed by a faint rustle as the human shifted. y/n’s heart leapt, her hands clutching the hem of her dress as she peeked out from her hiding spot. his hand moved first, his long fingers curling slightly before his eyes fluttered open.  

dark, almond-shaped eyes scanned the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding his expression. he sat up slowly, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his arm—and froze.  

the blood was gone. the wound was gone.  

he lifted his sleeve, examining the now-smooth skin with wide eyes. his hands moved to his thigh, finding the same result.  

“what…?” he muttered, his voice low and soft, tinged with disbelief. his gaze darted to the basket of food nearby, and then to the surrounding forest.  

a sudden rustling noise drew his attention, and his sharp eyes snapped toward the source—y/n.  

great job, self.

she gasped softly, realizing she’d been seen. his dark gaze locked onto her, his posture tense but not hostile. he didn’t seem frightened; if anything, he looked protective, his hands poised to defend himself.  

but then his eyes widened slightly, his gaze dropping to the soft glow of her wings, which she hadn’t hidden in her nervousness.  

“you…” he breathed, his voice a mixture of awe and confusion.  

y/n’s heart raced. she scrambled back a step, her fingers brushing against the sand until they found a smooth stone. she snatched it up, holding it in front of her defensively.  

“w-who are you?” she demanded, her voice trembling slightly but carrying a strength that surprised even her. her usual gentle tone sharpened into something firm, her wings flaring slightly behind her.  

the human raised his hands in a placating gesture, his gaze never leaving hers. “i’m not here to hurt you,” he said, his voice calm but steady. “i… i don’t even know where i am.”  

y/n narrowed her eyes, gripping the stone tighter. “that doesn’t answer my question.”

he exhaled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “i’m… a traveler. my ship—it crashed in a storm. i don’t know how i got here.”  

y/n tilted her head, her curiosity beginning to outweigh her fear. “you’re human,” she said softly, more to herself than to him.  

he blinked. “and you’re..” he replied, his gaze flickering to her glowing wings.  

she spoke again, not wanting him to complete his sentence. “you shouldn’t be here. no one should be here,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered at the edges. her grip on the stone loosened slightly, though she didn’t lower it.  

“i didn’t mean to,” the man replied. “i didn’t even know this place existed.”  

y/n studied him for a long moment, her amber-brown eyes searching his face. he didn’t seem dangerous—just lost, confused, and maybe a little awestruck. but the stories she’d grown up with still lingered in the back of her mind, warning her to be cautious.  

finally, she lowered the stone, though her wings remained flared, a faint glow surrounding her. “stay where you are,” she said firmly. “i’ll decide what to do with you.”  

his lips twitched into the faintest smile. “you saved me, didn’t you?”  

y/n’s cheeks flushed faintly, but she ignored his question, turning her back on him as she hid her trembling hands behind her.

what am i doing? she thought again, her heart pounding as she tried to keep her composure.  y/n stepped back a little farther, gripping the smooth stone tightly in her hand as the human tried to shift into a more comfortable position. she studied him closely, every detail of his movements, unsure if he might suddenly become hostile. her wings glowed faintly behind her, an unintentional show of her nervousness.  

"don't come close to me—" she said sharply, her voice firm despite the slight quiver in her tone.  

he froze, lifting his hands again to show he meant no harm, once again. “i won't— i'm saying it again, i’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly, his voice calm and reassuring.  

her eyes darted to his hands and then back to his face. “you shouldn’t even be here. you don’t belong here.”  

he tilted his head, his gaze flickering briefly to her glowing wings. “are you.. human?”

y/n blinked, startled by the question. “human?” she mumbled the word she'd known for long, but it still foreign on her tongue.  

she looked at him more closely now, studying the odd cut of his clothes, the dark fabric layered with gold-threaded details. his boots were worn, his hair tousled and damp from the sea, yet he carried himself with an air of elegance. he was undeniably different—alien, unfamiliar.  

“no,” she replied quietly. “i’ve never seen a.. human before.”  

a faint smile tugged at his lips, though he quickly masked it. “well, now you have,” he said lightly.  

she stiffened at his tone, her grip on the stone tightening. “don’t mock me.”  

“i’m not mocking you,” he replied, his voice still soft. “i’m just… surprised. i didn’t expect to find anyone here.”  

her eyes narrowed. “you shouldn’t have found us. this island—it’s forbidden. you need to leave as soon as you can.”  

the man leaned back slightly, his gaze flickering around the shaded forest. “i would if i could, but i don’t think i’m in any shape to build a boat and sail off, do you?”  

y/n bit her lip, unsure how to respond. she had to admit he had a point, but she didn’t like the idea of him staying here. her friends had always warned her about outsiders. they’d said humans were dangerous, unpredictable, and greedy.  

“where am i?” he asked suddenly, his tone curious but calm.  

“it’s none of your concern,” y/n said quickly, her voice defensive.  

“it kinda is if i’m stranded here.”  

she shook her head. “you don’t need to know. it won’t help you anyway.”  

“talk about honesty.. alright, this will be hard.”  

he studied her for a moment, his gaze steady but not intimidating. “are you a faerie?”

y/n froze, her wings flickering faintly. she didn’t know how he knew about faeries, but his question struck a nerve. her first instinct was to deny it, but the way he asked—gently, without any trace of malice—made her pause.  

after a long moment, she gave a hesitant nod.

his expression softened, though he kept his features carefully neutral. he didn’t want to scare her away or reveal how much he already knew about her kind. growing up in the palace, he’d been taught about faeries, elves, and other mystical beings—legends passed down through generations. he’d always thought them to be myths, mere stories to entertain and educate. but now, seeing her standing before him, her glowing wings and angelic presence so very real, he couldn’t help but marvel.  

“don’t stare,” y/n said, her voice snapping him out of his thoughts. she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look intimidating.  

“i’m sorry,” he said quickly, though there was a faint amusement in his tone. “i just didn’t think i’d ever meet a faerie.”  

“well, now you have. so eat,” she said, shoving the basket of fruit toward him.  

he glanced at the basket, then back at her. “you brought this for me?”  

she frowned, looking away. “i… figured you’d be hungry.”  

“thank you,” he said sincerely, picking up a piece of fruit.  

“don’t thank me,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly. “i only brought it so you don’t cause trouble.”  

the man bit into the fruit, the sweet juice bursting on his tongue. “trouble? i’m sitting here with a bruised ego and no boat. what kind of trouble could i possibly cause?”  

“you’d be surprised,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him.  

he smiled faintly, taking another bite of fruit. “what’s your name?”  

“that’s none of your business,” she shot back, her tone defensive.  

“fair enough,” he replied easily, leaning back against the tree. “i’m hyunjin, by the way.”  

y/n didn’t respond, though her eyes flickered to his face. he was so strange, so unfamiliar, yet she couldn’t deny that he was… beautiful. his delicate features seemed carved by the gods themselves, and the mole beneath his eye only added to his charm.  

“you’re staring,” hyunjin said, his voice teasing.  

y/n snapped out of her thoughts, her cheeks burning. “i wasn’t staring!”  

“you were,” he said, smiling softly.  

“stop talking,” she muttered, flustered.  

hyunjin chuckled, the sound low and warm. “you’re not very good at being intimidating, are you?”  

“i am so!” she retorted, her wings flaring slightly in defiance.  

“you’re more like an angry butterfly,” he said, his tone playful.  

y/n glared at him, though she couldn’t entirely suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.  

after a moment, her curiosity got the better of her. “you said you’re a traveler. where are you from?”  

hyunjin hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. “a kingdom far from here.”  

“kingdom?”  

“aestheria,” he said simply.  

y/n’s eyes widened slightly. “aetheria? the kingdom of golden spires?”  

he nodded, a small smile on his lips. “you’ve heard of it?”  

“only in stories,” she said softly. “i didn’t think it was.. real.”  

“it is,” hyunjin said, his tone gentle. “and i’m a prince.”  

y/n’s jaw dropped, though she quickly shut it, trying to compose herself. “you’re a… prince?”  

“yes.”  

she crossed her arms, trying to appear unimpressed. “you don’t look like a prince.”  

hyunjin laughed lightly. “what does a prince look like, then?”  

“not like… that,” she said, gesturing vaguely at him.  

“ouch, way to add to my already broken ego.. but anyway, i really am,” he said with a faint smile, watching her reaction with amusement.  

y/n tried to appear unaffected, but her wide eyes betrayed her awe. she turned away, her wings folding neatly against her back as she muttered, “i don’t care if you’re a prince. you still don’t belong here.”  

hyunjin smiled to himself, leaning back against the tree as he watched her with quiet fascination.  

a soft, shimmering light caught y/n's attention as a tiny butterfly-like pixie fluttered toward her. its delicate wings shimmered with hues of lavender and gold, leaving a faint trail of glittering dust in the air. y/n froze, her heart racing. pixie butterflies only showed up when something urgent needed to be said.  

“y/n!” the pixie squeaked in a high-pitched but anxious voice, hovering near her shoulder. her tiny frame quivered nervously as she glanced back toward the direction of the hut.  

“what is it, lunis?” y/n asked, her voice low, her eyes darting briefly toward hyunjin, who was still leaning against the tree, his sharp gaze quietly observing the interaction.  

lunis hesitated, wringing its tiny hands as it hovered closer to her ear. “who is this? who is this man?!” she whispered frantically, though her voice carried enough for hyunjin to catch the distress in her tone.  

y/n stiffened. “lunis—please—don’t be loud!” she tried to wave the pixie off, hoping to calm her nervous flurry.  

the pixie ignored her, her tiny eyes wide with panic. “you know how felix will react, y/n! he’ll—he’ll lose his wings if he finds out!”  

y/n winced, her heart sinking at the mention of felix. she knew exactly what lunis meant. felix’s overprotectiveness was both his strength and his flaw. he’d do anything to keep the place safe, even if it meant being harsh.  

“i know,” she whispered, her voice tight. “but i couldn’t just leave him. look at him!” she gestured at hyunjin, who raised his eyebrows but said nothing, his gaze flickering between y/n and the panicked pixie.  

lunis turned to hyunjin, her tiny hands clutching her head dramatically. “a human?! a human! on dewmist woods? this is—this is—”  

“calm down!” y/n snapped quietly, her wings flickering in agitation.  

“i can’t calm down!” lunis hissed. “felix will see! he’ll know! he always knows!”  

hyunjin, sensing the tension, decided to interject. “i’m not here to hurt anyone, little one,” he said softly, his deep voice carrying an almost soothing quality.  

the pixie froze, her tiny wings fluttering erratically.

“it talks..” lunis whispered, her voice dripping with suspicion. “humans talk. humans lie!”  

“lunis!” y/n scolded, turning to face the pixie fully. “he’s injured. i healed him. what was i supposed to do? let him bleed out on the shore?”  

“so you did heal me.”  

“you, stay quiet!”  

“yes!” lunis shrieked, then immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, looking horrified at her own words. “no! i didn’t mean that, but—oh, y/n, you don’t understand! felix will scold you! he’ll never trust you again!”  

y/n flinched at the thought, her heart heavy. she loved felix dearly—he was like an older brother to her—but she couldn’t ignore how overbearing he could be. he’d never let her out of his sight again if he found out about this.  

“be quick, y/n!” lunis pleaded, tugging on her sleeve with her tiny hands. “get him away from here before felix sees! he’s out gathering wood, but he could come back any moment! please, please! go home before it’s too late!”  

y/n’s mind raced. she glanced at hyunjin, who was now watching her with a strange mix of curiosity and concern. his dark eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt.  

“i can’t just—” she started, but lunis interrupted her.  

“you can,” the pixie insisted. “you must. or felix will—” she stopped mid-sentence, her tiny frame trembling.  

“felix will what?” hyunjin asked suddenly, his voice calm but firm.  

lunis let out a tiny squeak and darted behind y/n’s shoulder, clearly intimidated. “none of your business, human!”  

“god forbid a man is curious.”  hyunjin sighed, his gaze flickering to y/n. “you’re not very good at hiding things, are you?”  

y/n shot him a glare, her cheeks flushing. “quiet,” she muttered.  

lunis tugged on her sleeve again. “y/n, please! you’re my friend, and i don’t want felix to yell at you. he’s so scary when he’s upset!”  

“i know,” y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. she felt torn, her heart aching under the weight of the pixie’s fear and her own guilt.  

hyunjin leaned back against the tree, watching her with a thoughtful expression. “i take it this felix person isn’t very fond of strangers,”

y/n’s wings flickered again, betraying her nerves. “that’s putting it lightly,” she muttered.  

“then perhaps i should leave,” hyunjin suggested, though his tone lacked conviction.

“bingo! so, the human thinks too-”    

y/n hesitated, her gaze flickering between him and lunis. “you can’t leave!” she said finally. “not yet. you’re still weak- and you don’t have a boat.”  

there was a faint smile tugging at his lips, as if he knew she wouldn’t let him go so easily.  

lunis groaned, flitting in front of her face. “y/n, think about this! felix—”  

“i’ll handle felix,” y/n said firmly, surprising both lunis and herself.  

hyunjin’s eyebrows rose, and lunis blinked at her, her tiny mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  

“you… you’ll handle him?” lunis stammered. “y/n, you can’t even argue with a butterfly!”  

y/n crossed her arms, her wings glowing faintly with determination. “i’ll figure it out! trust me!”

hyunjin watched her, a flicker of admiration in his dark eyes. “you’re braver than you look,” he said softly.  

y/n shot him a look, her cheeks warming. “don’t push your luck, human.”  

lunis groaned, throwing her tiny hands in the air. “fine! but don’t say i didn’t warn you! if felix catches you—oh, it’ll be awful! just awful!”  

with one last worried glance at hyunjin, the pixie flitted away, her shimmering trail disappearing into the forest.  

y/n let out a shaky breath, her wings drooping slightly. she turned to hyunjin, who was still leaning casually against the tree, his expression unreadable.  

“you really do have a lot of secrets,” he said, his voice quiet but teasing.  

“don’t get used to it,” she replied, her tone sharp. “you’re not staying forever.”  

y/n watched lunis disappear into the forest, her stomach twisting with anxiety. she turned back to the human, who was still leaning casually against the tree, his dark eyes now focused on the soft glow of her wings.

he tilted his head, clearly curious but not prying.  

“you’re making this very difficult,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as she tried to figure out what to do next.  

“i don’t think i’m the one sneaking around on my own island, trying to hide a human.”

y/n glared at him, though her wings gave a faint flicker of nervous energy. “you’re not helping.”  

“i wasn’t aware i was supposed to,” he replied smoothly, his tone carrying just enough teasing to make her grit her teeth.  

with a frustrated sigh, the faerie glanced toward the forest path leading back to their hut. felix could be back at any moment, and if lunis—or any of the other pixies—decided to snitch, things could spiral very quickly.  

“alright,” she said firmly, snapping hyunjin out of his casual amusement. “you’re coming with me.”  

he blinked, straightening up slightly. “i am?”  

“yes,” she said, grabbing the leftover food and tucking it into a small woven pouch at her side. “you can’t stay out here. if felix sees you…” she trailed off, her wings giving an involuntary twitch at the thought.  

he raised an eyebrow. “this felix must be quite terrifying.”  

“considering you're a human, you can say that.”

“he’s not terrifying,” she replied quickly, though her voice wavered slightly. “he’s just… protective. and if he sees you, he’ll—” she paused, wringing her hands nervously. “you'll probably have a death wish.”  

hyunjin’s lips twitched as though suppressing a laugh. “sounds like someone i’d love to meet.”  

“you’re not meeting him!” she snapped, flustered. “now, come on. and be quiet.”  

without giving him a chance to argue, she tugged at his arm. to her surprise, he followed her without complaint, his long strides making it easy to keep up.  

“where are we going?” he asked, his voice low enough not to echo through the forest.

“somewhere felix won’t look,” she said simply, her eyes darting around nervously as they walked.  

“do you even know where that is?”  

“yes!” she said quickly, though her voice lacked conviction.  

hyunjin chuckled softly, the sound warm and surprisingly comforting. “you’re terrible at lying.”  

she shot him a glare over her shoulder. “quiet.”  

eventually, they reached a small grove not far from the hut but hidden enough by thick vines and towering trees. y/n pushed aside some of the greenery, revealing a small hollow nestled against the roots of a massive tree.  

“here,” she said, gesturing for him to duck inside.  

hyunjin looked at the hollow, then back at her with a raised eyebrow. “you want me to hide in there?”  

“did i ask you to argue?” she said, exasperated. “ it’s temporary, just until i figure out what to do.”  

he sighed dramatically but crouched down, squeezing into the hollow. once inside, he leaned back against the tree roots, his legs stretched out awkwardly.  

“comfortable?” she asked sarcastically.  

“very,” he replied, though his tone was more amused than annoyed. “the best in town.”  

y/n rolled her eyes and began to pull the vines back into place, ensuring the hollow was completely hidden. “stay here. don’t make a sound. and if you hear anything—”  

“run?” he offered, his lips twitching into a smile.  

“hide,” she corrected, giving him a stern look.  

hyunjin chuckled again, resting his head against the tree roots. “yes, ma’am.”  

y/n sighed, stepping back to inspect her handiwork. it wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. she turned to head back to the hut, but as soon as she stepped out of the grove, she froze.  

felix was standing a few feet away, his silver hair glinting in the sunlight. he held a bundle of firewood in his arms, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as they locked onto her emerald ones.  

“y/n,” he said slowly, his voice calm but laced with suspicion. “what are you doing out here?”  

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, and she forced a smile onto her face. “oh, just… exploring!”  

felix tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “exploring? near the grove we’ve told you a hundred times to stay away from?”  

y/n faltered, her wings fluttering nervously. “it’s not that dangerous…”  

felix stepped closer, his gaze narrowing. “what are you hiding?”  

“hiding?” she repeated, her voice going an octave higher. “i’m not hiding anything!”  

felix raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanning the area. “y/n.”  

she opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden rustling from the grove behind her made her heart stop.  

“what was that?” felix asked, his eyes snapping to the source of the sound.  

“probably just a squirrel!” she said quickly, stepping in front of him to block his path.  

felix’s gaze darkened. “move.”  

“felix—”  

“move, y/n,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding.  

before she could argue, another rustle came from the grove, followed by a soft, muffled curse. y/n’s stomach dropped as she recognized the voice.  

felix’s eyes widened, and without another word, he pushed past her, shoving the vines aside to reveal hyunjin crouched awkwardly in the hollow.  

for a moment, there was silence. felix stared at hyunjin, his expression unreadable, while hyunjin blinked up at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.  

“well,” hyunjin said casually, leaning back against the tree roots. “this is awkward.”  

y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “oh no…”  

felix slowly turned to look at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and fury. “y/n.”  

“felix, i can explain—”  

“explain?” he repeated, his voice rising. “you’ve been hiding a human?!”  

“it’s not what it looks like!” she said desperately.  

felix gestured wildly at hyunjin. “it looks like there’s a human sitting in our grove!”  

hyunjin raised a hand in a mock wave. “pleased to meet you too.”  

felix ignored him, his focus entirely on y/n. “do you have any idea how dangerous this is? what were you thinking?”  

“i was thinking i couldn’t let him die!” she shot back, her wings flaring slightly.  

felix opened his mouth to argue, but hyunjin interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “if it helps, i don’t plan on hurting anyone.”  

felix turned to glare at him. “you’re not helping.”  

hyunjin shrugged. “didn’t think i was.”  

“you just said you were.”

“details.”

y/n groaned again, pulling at her hair.  

hyunjin glanced at y/n, who looked like she wanted to sink into the ground. “looks like i’m staying,” he said with a small smile.  

felix stood between y/n and hyunjin, his shoulders squared, his blue eyes ice-cold as they bore into hyunjin's. his usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced with sharp intensity, his protective instincts flaring like a storm.  

“inside,” felix said, his voice low but unyielding as he gestured toward the hut.  

y/n hesitated, her wings fluttering nervously behind her. “but—”  

“now,” felix interrupted, his tone firm and final.  

y/n frowned, her voice rising slightly. “felix, we can just sort this out tog—”  

he turned to her sharply, his frustration evident. “y/n, he could be a monster for all we know!”  

that was the breaking point. her wings flared, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. “i’m sick of you trying to protect me as if i’m some fragile kid! i know how to protect myself!”  

felix’s jaw tightened, but his expression didn’t soften. instead, his voice grew quieter, steadier, but still firm. “this isn’t up for debate. go inside.”  

y/n’s lips pressed into a thin line, her fists clenching at her sides as she glared at him. for a moment, it looked like she might argue again, but she sighed heavily instead. her wings drooped slightly as she turned away, her voice quieter but still laced with frustration. “you're being unreasonable.”  

without looking back, she made her way to the hut, her footsteps heavier than usual. the door shut behind her with a soft thud, leaving an uncomfortable silence between felix and hyunjin.  

hyunjin, still seated near the hollow, raised an eyebrow as he observed felix. “that was… intense,” he said, his tone light but not mocking.  

felix didn’t respond immediately. he crossed his arms, his posture rigid as he looked down at the stranger. “who are you?” he asked, his voice cold and unyielding.  

“i told her already,” hyunjin replied evenly, though there was a flicker of tension in his voice. “my name is hyunjin. i’m—”  

“i didn’t ask for your name,” felix interrupted, stepping closer as he pulled out a dagger from his satchel. “i asked who you are. what are you doing here? where did you come from?”  

hyunjin’s jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his composure. “i was shipwrecked. that’s all.”  

felix narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping lower. “and yet you just so happened to wash up on our island? a place no human has ever stepped foot on before?”  

hyunjin met his gaze, his dark eyes steady. “it wasn’t intentional, i assure you. my ship was caught in a storm. i didn’t even know this place existed.”  

felix tilted his head slightly, studying him with an almost predatory sharpness. “convenient, isn’t it? that you just happened to end up here, on an island full of creatures you filthy humans only tell stories about?”  

hyunjin’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “you seem to think i had a choice in the matter.”  

felix took another step closer, his voice sharp. “i don’t trust you. we don't trust you. and if you so much as look at y/n the wrong way—”  

“i won’t harm any of you,” hyunjin interrupted, his tone firm but calm. “i swear it.”  

felix’s eyes narrowed further. “words mean nothing. especially from a human.”  

hyunjin sighed softly, running a hand through his hair. “you’re protective of the island. i understand that. but i have no intention of hurting her or anyone else here. i’m just trying to survive.”  

felix didn’t respond immediately, his sharp gaze lingering on hyunjin as though he could see through him. the tension between them was thick, the air charged with unspoken threats.  

finally, felix stepped back slightly, though his posture remained tense. “if you’re lying—if you’re here for anything other than survival—i will find out. and you won’t like what happens next.”  

hyunjin nodded once, his expression serious. “understood.”  

felix’s gaze lingered on him for another moment before he turned toward the hut. “stay here,” he ordered. “don’t move until i say so.”  

as felix walked away, hyunjin let out a slow breath, leaning back against the tree roots. he glanced toward the hut, where he could faintly see y/n’s silhouette through the window.  

the evening sun painted the sky with shades of amber and pink, its warm glow spilling through the trees and casting dappled light onto the forest floor.

y/n approached hyunjin cautiously, her small frame barely making a sound as she stepped over roots and leaves. her hands clutched a wooden tray of food she’d carefully prepared—fruits, nuts, and a bowl of fresh water gathered from the spring. her wings, brighter now in the fading light, folded neatly behind her, their tips brushing the sides of her flowing dress.

hyunjin sat by the same tree, his legs stretched out and his arms resting on his knees. he looked up as she approached, his dark eyes catching the golden light. a faint smile curved his lips, the kind that felt like a secret shared only between the two of them, though she wasn’t in the mood to reciprocate. 

“you again,” he said lightly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the tense energy she brought with her. “i thought your guard dog would’ve chained you to the hut by now.”  

“don’t,” she cut him off sharply, her voice firmer than he’d ever heard it before. she stopped a few paces away, her fingers tightening around the tray. “i didn’t come here to exchange jokes.”  

his smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression of mild surprise. he sat up straighter, sensing the shift in her demeanor. “alright,” he said carefully, leaning back against the tree. “what d-”  

“you need to leave, hyunjin.”  

the words hung in the air, heavier than the twilight. hyunjin’s eyebrows lifted, and he tilted his head slightly, studying her. “so you agree now?”  

“yes,” she said, stepping closer and setting the tray down on the ground between them. she straightened, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared down at him. “felix is right. lunis is right. you shouldn’t be here. you don’t belong here.”  

he raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing despite the weight of her words. “harsh. you’re not exactly rolling out the welcome mat, are you?”  

she didn’t respond to his humor, her face remaining serious. “this island is not meant for humans like you. it’s dangerous—for you and for us.”  

“dangerous?” he echoed, his voice softening slightly. “i don’t see anything dangerous about you, though.” his gaze flicked to her wings, his expression unreadable.  

her wings twitched slightly, a reflex she couldn’t suppress, but her face didn’t falter. “that’s exactly the problem,” she said quietly. “you don’t understand. you don’t know what you’ve stumbled into.”  

hyunjin leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at her. “then explain it to me. help me understand.”  

“no,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “it’s not for you to know! it’s not for you to be here. you need to leave.”  

he let out a soft sigh, leaning back again. “i need to.. but how do you expect me to leave? swim?”  

“i don’t care how you leave,” she said, her voice harder now, though there was a tremble beneath it that betrayed her emotions. “you just… you can’t stay. we don’t know you. we don’t know what you’ll bring here.”  

hyunjin was silent for a moment, his eyes searching her face. when he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “you’re scared of me.”  

her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her wings fluttering slightly behind her. “i’m not scared of you,” she said, though the words sounded more like a defense than a truth.  

“you are,” he said softly. “not for yourself, maybe. but for the others. for the island.”  

her gaze snapped back to him, her eyes narrowing. “don’t pretend like you know me. you don’t know anything about me or why i’m asking you to leave.”  

he raised his hands slightly in mock surrender. “alright, fair enough. i don’t know you. but i do know one thing—you healed me.”  

her breath hitched slightly, and she looked away again. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

“yes, you do,” he said, his tone still gentle. “i woke up, and the wounds were gone. that wasn’t an accident. that was you.”  

“you quite almost admitted it to your little.. pixie back at the shore, you know.”

her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and her wings twitched again, a faint glow pulsing through them despite the dim light. “you’re hearing things,” she said, her voice quieter now.  

he didn’t push her further, sensing the walls she’d built around herself. instead, he leaned back again, his head resting against the tree trunk as he let out a soft sigh. “alright, i’ll leave. but let me ask you something first.”  

she looked at him warily, her wings settling behind her. “what?”  

“if you were so certain i shouldn’t be here,” he said, his eyes meeting hers, “why did you save me?”  

the question hit her like a gust of wind, stealing the breath from her lungs. she opened her mouth to respond but found no words, her voice lost somewhere in the turmoil of her thoughts.  

“i…” she began, but the sound of felix’s voice calling her name from the hut cut through the air like a blade.  

her wings snapped shut against her back, and she took a step away from hyunjin. “i have to go,” she said quickly, her voice unsteady.  

“of course,” he said softly, watching as she turned and hurried back toward the hut, her wings shimmering faintly in the fading light.  

as she disappeared into the trees, hyunjin leaned his head back against the trunk, a faint, bittersweet smile playing on his lips. “you're scared,” he murmured to himself, “but not of me.”  

and that's how their story began.

the soft babble of the stream echoed through the forest as y/n crouched by the water’s edge, her wings glimmering faintly under the dappled sunlight. she was humming a soft tune, her hands carefully filling a large, carved wooden bowl with the crystal-clear water. hyunjin approached quietly from behind, his presence as calm as the gentle breeze.  

“you hum a lot,” hyunjin said, crouching beside her. his voice was low but playful, laced with the kind of teasing she’d grown used to over the past two months.  

y/n glanced at him, her brown eyes sparkling. “and you sulk a lot.”  

hyunjin chuckled, dipping his hands into the stream to feel the coolness of the water. “i don’t sulk.”  

“oh, you do,” she replied, lifting the bowl and standing up. she turned to him, her wings fluttering slightly. “you sulk when felix doesn’t trust you, you sulk when i win an argument, and you definitely sulk when you get caught staring.”  

he froze mid-motion, his dark eyes widening slightly before narrowing into an embarrassed glare. “i do not—”  

“do too,” she cut him off, sticking her tongue out playfully before turning to walk back toward the hut.  

hyunjin stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure, her light brown hair catching the sun and her wings shimmering like they were spun from golden silk. he let out a soft, defeated laugh before following her.  

the hut was filled with the earthy scent of freshly picked mushrooms and herbs. y/n stood at the small wooden counter, chopping the ingredients with quick, precise movements. hyunjin leaned against the wall nearby, watching her with an amused expression.  

“are you going to help, or are you just going to stand there and look pretty?” y/n asked without looking up, her voice sweet but teasing.  

“you think i'm pretty?”

“everyone's pretty.”

“fine then, i’m more useful looking pretty,” hyunjin quipped, crossing his arms. “besides, last time i tried to help, felix nearly threw me out for ruining the stew.”  

y/n giggled, her wings twitching slightly as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “you can’t ruin this one. it’s just mushroom soup. even you can’t mess that up.”  

he pushed off the wall and came to stand beside her, his shoulder brushing hers lightly. “fine. tell me what to do, boss.”  

“start with these,” she said, handing him a bundle of herbs. “tear the leaves off gently. don’t crush them.”  

hyunjin took the herbs and began working, his fingers surprisingly deft. for a moment, they worked in comfortable silence, the sound of chopping and the crackle of the fire filling the room.  

“you’re getting better at this,” y/n admitted, glancing at him.  

he smirked, meeting her gaze. “careful, y/n. if you keep complimenting me, i might start thinking you like having me around.”  

“don’t push your luck, prince.”  

the night was calm, the sky above them a tapestry of stars. y/n and hyunjin sat on a log near the edge of the forest, the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance.  

y/n hugged her knees to her chest, her wings tucked neatly behind her. “do you miss it?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.  

“miss what?” hyunjin asked, leaning back on his hands as he looked up at the stars.  

“the kingdom. your home.”  

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the heavens. “sometimes,” he admitted. “but it’s not like the stories, y/n. it’s not all grand halls and royal banquets. there’s… a lot of pressure. expectations.”  

she looked at him, her eyes filled with curiosity. “but you were a prince. isn’t that… amazing?”  

hyunjin turned to her, his expression soft but serious. “it sounds amazing until you realize you don’t get to choose your own life. you don’t get to be free.” he paused, his gaze dropping to her wings. “here, it’s different. you’re free.”  

she blinked, taken aback by the vulnerability in his voice. “but we’re not free either. we’re trapped on this island, waiting for something we’re not even sure exists anymore.”  

hyunjin reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. “you don’t seem trapped to me,” he said softly.  

her cheeks flushed, and she quickly pulled her hand back, breaking the moment. “you’re impossible,” she muttered, standing up.  

“and you’re adorable,” he called after her, earning a glare that was more flustered than angry.  

the three of them sat around the fire in the hut, felix sharpening a knife while hyunjin and y/n bickered about something trivial.  

“i’m just saying,” hyunjin argued, leaning forward, “if i were in charge of gathering berries, we wouldn’t have run out last week.”  

“that’s because you’d eat them all before we even got home,” y/n shot back, her wings twitching in irritation.  

felix snorted, surprising both of them. they turned to look at him, and he shrugged, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “she’s got a point, hyunjin.”  

hyunjin gasped in mock betrayal. “et tu, felix?”  

“don’t push your luck,” felix said, though his tone was lighter than usual. he glanced at y/n, his expression softening. “you two are loud enough to scare away every creature in the forest.”  

“as if we're not all friends with them.” y/n stuck her tongue out at him, but the warmth in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. despite his cautious nature, felix had grown used to hyunjin’s presence, even if he didn’t fully trust him yet.  

“hold still,” hyunjin said, stepping closer.  

she froze as he reached up, his fingers gently pulling a vine free from her tangled brown hair. his touch was careful, almost reverent, and when he looked down at her, their faces were inches apart.  

her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath with her. his dark eyes searched hers, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a faint smile.  

“you have the worst luck with plants,” he murmured.  

“and you have the worst timing,” she shot back, though her voice was soft.  

his smile widened, but he didn’t move away.

“y/n! hyunjin!” felix’s voice called from inside the hut, breaking the moment.  

she stepped back quickly, her cheeks flushing as she turned toward the door. “we’re coming!” she called, her voice higher than usual.  

hyunjin watched her retreat, a small, bittersweet smile playing on his lips. “saved by the guard dog,” he muttered under his breath, following her inside.  

the day began like any other. the sun rose over the island, golden light cascading through the trees, and the morning was filled with the soft hum of the forest’s life. y/n fluttered about the hut as usual, her wings shimmering faintly in the light, while hyunjin watched her with his usual soft amusement. felix was out gathering supplies, leaving the two alone.  

by midday, y/n had gone quiet. she drifted to the shore after lunch, her head low, her shoulders slumped. hyunjin watched her go but didn’t follow right away. she often needed time to herself, especially when the weight of their missing friends grew heavy in her heart.  

she sat near the edge of the water, her wings folded tightly against her back as she drew aimless patterns in the sand with her finger. the gentle waves lapped at the shore, and the sound, usually comforting, only reminded her of the emptiness she felt. the pixie butterflies, always fluttering nearby, hovered uncertainly.  

“y/n,” one of them chirped, its tiny voice tinged with concern. “you shouldn’t be sad. they’ll come back. they always come back.”  

she gave the butterfly a small, weary smile. “i hope so,” she murmured. “but it’s been so long. what if something happened to them? what if they can’t find their way back?”  

another pixie, its glow faint in the daylight, landed on her knee. “you’re not alone,” it said, its voice soft. “you have us. you have felix. and… you have him.”  

y/n blinked, her gaze lifting toward the trees. she could see a figure approaching, and her heart sank slightly. she didn’t want him to see her like this.  

but it was too late. hyunjin was already there.  

“hey,” hyunjin called softly, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves.  

she quickly wiped at her eyes, pretending she hadn’t been crying. “what are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed, but her voice cracked, betraying her.  

“looking for you,” hyunjin sat beside her, his dark eyes scanning her face. he frowned. “you’ve been crying.”  

“no, i haven’t,” she lied, turning away.  

“y/n,” he said again, his voice gentle but firm. he reached out, his fingers brushing against her arm. “talk to me.”  

for a moment, she didn’t respond. the silence stretched between them, filled only by the rhythm of the waves. finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping.  

“i miss them,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “felix acts like everything’s fine, but what if it’s not? what if they’re hurt? or… or worse?”  

hyunjin’s chest tightened at the sight of her distress. he’d seen her cheerful, teasing, radiant. this version of her—fragile and vulnerable—pulled at something deep inside him.  

“they’ll come back,” he said softly. “they wouldn’t leave you behind. not forever.”  

she shook her head, her wings trembling slightly. “you don’t know that. you don’t know them.”  

“no, i don’t,” he admitted. “but i know you. and i know your love for them. and that you’re strong enough to wait for them. strong enough to hope.”  

her lip trembled, and she looked away, but he wasn’t going to let her retreat.  

he shifted closer, sitting beside her in the sand. he didn’t speak right away, giving her the space to gather her thoughts. slowly, hesitantly, she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.  

he froze for a moment, startled by the sudden closeness, but then his body relaxed. his arm came up around her shoulders, holding her gently.  

“i don’t want to be strong all the time,” she confessed, her voice muffled against him.

“you don’t have to be,” he said quietly. “not with me.”  

the pixie butterflies fluttered around them, their tiny voices whispering reassurances, but neither y/n nor hyunjin paid them any mind.  

“you’re better at this than i thought,” she muttered after a moment, her voice tinged with the faintest hint of her usual teasing.  

hyunjin chuckled softly. “at what?”  

“at… comforting,” she said, her wings twitching slightly.  

“i’m a quick learner,” he replied, his tone warm.  

the sun had soon began to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange. the golden light bathed them, and y/n finally pulled away, just enough to look up at him. her eyes searched his face, taking in the softness of his expression, the way the light danced in his dark eyes.  

“why are you always here when i need you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  

“maybe because i need you too,” he said simply.  

her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them moved. the world seemed to hold its breath with them, the only sound the gentle crash of the waves.  

hyunjin’s hand came up, hesitating for a moment before brushing a strand of hair from her face. his fingers lingered, and his gaze dropped to her lips.  

“y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.  

she didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either. and that was all the invitation he needed. slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was soft and hesitant but full of unspoken feelings.  

his breath was warm, tasting faintly of honey and wild berries as it mingled with hers, soft and trembling against the curve of her mouth. the kiss was delicate at first, like a whispered secret, but it deepened with the gravity of unspoken longing — slow, careful, reverent. his hand rose instinctively to cradle her face, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as if to memorize the contours of her fragility.

her wings quivered behind her, the faint luminescence pulsing in rhythm with her heart, each beat a spark of life tethered to his touch. as the kiss unfolded, her fingers knotted into the coarse fabric of his tunic, grasping as if he might vanish like a dream. a small sigh escaped her lips as his kiss became more certain, a tender pressure that spoke of yearning held back for too long.

there, between them, time stretched and blurred. every fleeting caress of his lips on hers sent a warmth spiraling through her chest, a fire that burned but did not consume. when they finally drew apart, breathless and trembling, their foreheads touched, the world around them silent but for the echo of their shared heartbeat. neither dared speak, afraid that words might shatter the fragile, aching beauty of the moment.

“thank you,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed.  

“for what?” he asked, his voice equally soft.  

“for being here.”  

he smiled, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “always.”  

and as the first stars began to appear in the night sky, they stayed there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the rest of the world forgotten.  

the sun was low in the sky, its warm hues bleeding into the deep green of the woods and the soft blues of the shore. y/n and hyunjin walked side by side, the sand beneath their feet cool as the tide ebbed and flowed. felix had stayed behind at the hut, muttering something about needing to sort the herbs and supplies, though they both knew he was giving them space.  

hyunjin held a woven basket filled with fruits they’d picked from the trees near the shore. it wasn’t heavy, but he made a show of carrying it with exaggerated effort.  

“oh no,” he groaned dramatically, his knees bending as if he might collapse under the imaginary weight. “it’s just… so heavy. i’m not sure i’ll make it.”  

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “you’re insufferable,” she said, plucking a bright blue fruit from the basket and taking a bite. its juice stained her lips, the taste sweet and tangy.  

“i’m the one carrying the basket, y/n,” he shot back, smirking. “the least you could do is thank me.”  

“thank you, oh mighty prince,” she replied, her voice dripping with mock reverence. “how ever would i survive without your unparalleled strength?”  

he laughed, the sound light and genuine, and y/n felt her heart flutter. she looked away quickly, pretending to focus on a tiny cluster of pixie butterflies that flitted nearby.  

as the day stretched into the golden hues of the late afternoon, they moved into the woods. the canopy above was thick, filtering the sunlight into soft beams that danced across the ground. hyunjin reached up to pluck a low-hanging flower with petals that shimmered faintly, handing it to y/n with a flourish.  

“for you,” he said with a grin, holding it out dramatically as if offering her the most precious treasure.  

y/n accepted it with a small laugh, tucking it into her hair. “do you do this for all the ladies you meet?”  

“just the prettiest ones,” he said, winking, and she smacked his arm lightly.  

they walked further, hyunjin listening intently as y/n pointed out different plants and their uses. he was fascinated by how much she knew about the forest, about the life that thrived here.  

“you know,” he said, leaning against a tree, “i used to think the stories about faeries and magical islands were just that—stories. something to entertain bored princesses.”  

“and now?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him.  

“now i think the stories didn’t do you justice,” he said softly, and her cheeks flushed.  

by the time night fell, they were lying on a patch of soft grass beneath the open sky. the stars were brilliant, their light scattered like diamonds across the dark canvas. fireflies danced in the air, their glow adding a soft warmth to the cool night.  

y/n lay on her back, her wings spread out behind her like a shimmering halo. hyunjin lay beside her, his head propped on one arm as he watched her.  

“you know,” he said after a moment, “i think i could stay here forever.”  

she turned her head to look at him, her brows furrowing slightly. “you say that now,” she said. “but what about your kingdom? your life there?”  

he shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “what about it? it doesn’t feel like my life anymore.”  

y/n was silent for a moment, her gaze drifting back to the stars. “you don’t miss it?”  

“there are things i miss,” he admitted. “my mother, for one. but most of it? no. i was born into a life that was decided for me. here, with you and felix… it feels like i’m finally making my own choices.”  

y/n smiled softly at that, her heart warming. “i’m glad you feel that way.”  

he shifted closer, his arm brushing against hers. “what about you?” he asked. “do you ever wish for something more than this island?”  

she thought about it, her eyes fixed on the sky. “sometimes,” she said honestly. “but then i think about how much i love this place. the forest, the creatures, felix, our friends… it’s my home.”  

“it’s a beautiful home,” hyunjin said softly.  

they talked for hours, their voices soft and steady as the night deepened around them. hyunjin told her stories of his childhood, of the palace gardens and the books he’d read. y/n shared tales of the forest, of her first flight, and the mischief she’d gotten into with felix.  

at some point, y/n’s eyelids began to droop, her words becoming slower and softer. hyunjin noticed and smiled, his heart swelling at the sight of her peaceful expression.

“sleep, y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle.  

“i’m fine,” she mumbled, but her wings gave a small, sleepy flutter.  

he shook his head, chuckling softly. “come here,” he said, reaching out to pull her closer.  

she didn’t resist, letting him wrap an arm around her and pull her against his chest. his other hand rested lightly on the edge of her wings, careful not to disturb them.  

“you’re warm,” she muttered, her voice muffled against him.  

“good,” he said, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head. “now sleep.”  

her breathing slowed, and soon she was asleep, her body relaxed against his. hyunjin stayed awake a little longer, his eyes fixed on the stars above. he didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, with y/n in his arms and the forest around them, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

~

the forest was deathly quiet under the pale silver of the moon. the fireflies were gone, the night was still, and the warm hum of life that usually enveloped the woods felt like a distant memory. y/n stirred, her face pressing against the grass as her eyes fluttered open.

a searing, unbearable pain jolted through her entire body. it was a sharp, raw agony that made her gasp, her hands scrambling to her back. her heart stopped when her fingers brushed against the sticky wetness of her blood, now pooling and staining the grass.

she tried to sit up but collapsed back with a cry. her breathing was shallow and frantic as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. her wings—her beautiful, radiant wings—were gone. all she could feel was the torn flesh of her back, blood trickling down in rivulets.

her trembling gaze darted around the clearing, searching, desperate. feathers. blood. emptiness. the pain was unbearable, but the hollow ache in her heart felt worse.

“w-where…” she rasped, choking on the words. tears blurred her vision as her fingers clawed at the ground, pulling herself forward.

and then she saw him.

in the distance, just beyond the trees, hyunjin stood. his figure was shadowed under the moonlight, but she could make out the shape of her wings in his trembling hands. they drooped lifelessly, their glow gone, coated in her blood.

her breath hitched. a wave of disbelief and nausea overtook her as her eyes trailed to the dagger in his hand, its blade glinting with crimson.

“hyunjin…” her voice broke, barely above a whisper.

he flinched at the sound of her voice, his whole body stiffening. slowly, his head turned toward her, his face pale and twisted with torment.

“hyunjin!” her voice was louder now, raw and filled with anguish. she clawed at the grass, dragging her weakened body toward him. “w-what… what did you…?”

he didn’t move. his grip on her wings was trembling, his eyes wide with tears. “y/n,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “i—”

“you… you c-cut them?” she stammered, her lips quivering as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. her body was shaking violently now, both from the pain and the heartbreak. “m-my wings… why?”

he didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his jaw quivered, and his knees threatened to give out.

“i trusted you,” she choked out, her voice rising with each word. “i… i loved you, hyunjin. and you—”

“i love you,” he interrupted, his voice cracking. tears streamed down his face, but his hands gripped the wings tighter, his knuckles white. “i… i’m so sorry, y/n. i… i had no choice.. i had t-”

“no,” she screamed, her voice breaking into a sob. “no, you didn’t! you didn’t have to—” her words dissolved into cries, her body collapsing to the ground as her strength gave out.

“i’m so sorry,” hyunjin whispered again, his voice trembling. he took one faltering step back, then another. “i didn’t… i didn’t want to…”

“don’t go,” she whimpered, her voice barely audible now. her hand reached out weakly toward him, blood smearing the ground beneath her. “pleae, don’t…”

but he was already backing away, his expression twisted with anguish. “i… i can’t stay,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry…”

and then he turned, running toward the shore.

“hyunjin!” she called after him, but her voice cracked, her throat raw. she collapsed again, her vision swimming as the edges of her world began to darken.

the pixies found her first, their tiny voices shrill with panic. “y/n! oh no—oh no, no, no…”

they fluttered around her, their delicate wings buzzing frantically. one of them darted off into the woods, heading straight for felix.

felix burst into the clearing moments later, his eyes wide with horror as they landed on her crumpled form. “y/n!” he shouted, rushing to her side. his hands hovered above her, trembling as he took in the blood, the missing wings, the lifeless feathers scattered around her.

“who did this?” he demanded, his voice sharp with fury and heartbreak. “y/n, tell me! who—”

she couldn’t answer. her lips moved, but no sound came out. her eyes, filled with pain and betrayal, flickered toward the shore.

felix followed her gaze, and his heart sank. “no,” he breathed, his voice low and dangerous. “no. it couldn’t be…”

but deep down, he knew.

his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening as rage overtook him. he stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing in the direction of the shore. “stay here,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “i’ll get him. i’ll make him pay for this.”

“felix…” y/n’s voice was barely a whisper, but he was already gone, running toward the shore.

hyunjin was by the boat when felix arrived, frantically shoving supplies into it. his hands were shaking, and his face was pale, streaked with tears.

“you fucking bastard,” felix roared, his voice booming across the shore.

felix lunged forward, but before he could reach him, hyunjin pushed the boat into the water and jumped in. felix tried to grab him, but the boat was already drifting away, carried by the tide.

“coward!” felix shouted after him, his voice filled with rage and despair. “you’re nothing but a pathetic coward! all of you humans are the same,”

felix stood on the shore, his chest heaving as the weight of what had happened settled over him. slowly, he turned back toward the forest, his heart breaking all over again at the thought of y/n lying there, broken and betrayed.

the forest felt heavier than ever, suffocating under the weight of y/n’s broken sobs. the pixies fluttered around her in disarray, their tiny voices trembling with fear and sorrow. they tried their best to help her, but their small hands could do so little against the open wounds where her wings once were. blood soaked into the grass beneath her, and her body trembled violently as she tried to sit up.

felix was kneeling beside her, his hands trembling as he carefully inspected the jagged, raw flesh on her back. his breath hitched, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from breaking. he had always been her protector, her shield. but now, seeing her like this, so shattered and vulnerable, he felt utterly helpless.

y/n clutched at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the dirt as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. her sobs were wrenching, filled with a pain that cut deeper than anything felix had ever heard before.

“my wings…” she whimpered, her voice cracking. “they’re gone,” she choked on her words, her whole body shaking as tears streamed down her face. “he took them, he took them,”

felix clenched his jaw, his heart splintering into a thousand pieces. he carefully leaned closer, his voice soft but thick with emotion. “y/n, don’t… don’t try to move. please,” he begged, his voice almost breaking. “let me, let me take care of you.”

she turned her tear-streaked face toward him, her eyes filled with devastation. “felix, it hurts,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “it hurts so much…”

“i know,” he said, his voice shaking. he reached out to gently brush her hair away from her face, his touch tender and careful. “i know, y/nnie, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry. i couldn't protect you from that-”

the pixies flitted closer, their tiny hands trying to staunch the bleeding with makeshift cloths woven from leaves. their voices were small and filled with sorrow as they worked together, murmuring apologies and soft reassurances.

felix’s hands were steady despite his own breaking heart. he pressed a clean cloth—one the pixies handed him—against her back, trying to stop the bleeding. she let out a pained cry, her body arching slightly from the sting, and felix froze. “i’m sorry,” he whispered quickly, his voice trembling. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i have to stop the bleeding. i know it hurts. please don't leave me,”

her cries softened into whimpers as she buried her face into the crook of her arm, too weak to fight back. tears streamed freely down felix’s cheeks now, but he blinked them away, focusing entirely on her. “you’re going to be okay,” he whispered, his voice thick. “i’ll make sure of it. i promise.”

y/n’s voice was a broken whisper, her words catching on sobs. “he said he loved me, i trusted him, felix, i trusted him.”

felix felt something in his chest shatter entirely. he paused for a moment, his hands hovering above her wound as he struggled to compose himself. “i know,” he murmured, his voice barely holding together. “i know you did. and he… he didn’t deserve that trust. he didn’t deserve you.”

her crying only grew louder, her entire body trembling as she tried to speak but couldn’t find the words. felix couldn’t hold back anymore. he wrapped his arms around her gently, pulling her fragile, trembling form against his chest. “it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soft but shaking. “it’s okay, y/n. let it out. i’ve got you.”

she sobbed against him, her fists weakly clutching his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. felix held her tighter, his chin resting on the top of her head as tears slipped down his own cheeks. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re safe. i won’t let anyone hurt you again. i promise.”

the pixies buzzed around them, their small hands still trying to help where they could. one of them placed a tiny hand on felix’s arm, their voice trembling. “we’ll take care of her, too,” they said softly. “we’ll stay by her side.”

felix nodded, his throat too tight to speak. his fingers gently combed through y/n’s hair, his heart aching with every broken sob that escaped her lips.

“it’s okay to cry,” he whispered after a moment, his voice soothing and steady. “you don’t have to hold it in, y/n. i’m here. i’ll always be here.”

her sobs began to quiet after what felt like hours, her body still trembling but her breathing slowing. felix stayed with her, his arms wrapped around her protectively, his heart breaking with every tear she shed.

when her voice finally came, it was barely audible, a fragile whisper in the dark. “what am i without my wings, felix?”

“you’re y/n,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet strength. “you’re the strongest, kindest, most beautiful soul i’ve ever known. wings or no wings, you’re still you. and that’s all that matters.”

her tears came again, but this time they were softer, quieter. felix didn’t let go, holding her close as the night wore on. and in that moment, under the pale light of the moon, he silently vowed to never let anyone hurt her again.

y/n felt as though her soul had been torn in half, a gaping void where her wings once rested. the pain was not merely physical—it radiated deep into her core, an anguish that transcended her body and seeped into her spirit. it was as if the very essence of her being, the part that connected her to the skies and the world she loved, had been ripped away, leaving her hollow and unmoored.

the raw, jagged ache on her back was relentless, burning and stinging with every shallow breath she took. but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart. her wings had been more than an extension of her body; they were her freedom, her identity, her connection to the magic of her world. without them, she felt like a shell of herself, reduced to something fragile and incomplete.

she could feel the emptiness, a haunting absence where her wings had once stretched, catching the sunlight and fluttering in the breeze. they had been a part of her, as vital as her heartbeat, as natural as her breath. now, she felt severed, unwhole, like a bird stripped of its feathers and cast to the ground, unable to fly, unable to soar.

the betrayal was a sharp, cutting ache that rivaled the physical pain. her mind replayed the scene over and over—the dagger glinting in the moonlight, the blood staining the earth, and the face she thought she could trust standing in the shadows. it was a cruel twist of fate, a nightmare come to life. she had let him in, let him see her, the parts of her that she guarded so carefully. and he had taken it all, with a single, merciless act.

tears poured down her face, each one heavy with grief, anger, and confusion. she didn’t understand. how could someone who had once spoken to her so tenderly, someone who had looked at her as though she were the most precious thing in the world, do this? how could he hold her heart in his hands and then shatter it so completely?

her chest heaved with the weight of her sobs, the sound raw and guttural, torn from a place deep inside her that she hadn’t even known existed. she felt like a child again—small, vulnerable, and helpless. her wings had been her strength, her shield against the world, and now they were gone, leaving her exposed and trembling.

she couldn’t stop the spiral of despair that consumed her. what was she now, without her wings? how could she face the world, the skies, her friends? she had always been the one who shone, who lifted others up with her light and laughter. now, she felt like nothing but a shadow, dim and fading.

the world around her seemed to dim as well, the colors muted, the sounds distant. the stars above, once her constant companions, felt cold and far away, as though they, too, had turned their backs on her. she felt untethered, adrift in a sea of pain and loss, with no anchor to hold onto, no way to find her way back.

every inch of her body ached, but it was her soul that bore the brunt of the pain. it was a grief so profound it swallowed her whole, leaving her gasping for air.

she was broken, utterly and completely, and she didn’t know if she could ever be pieced back together.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 16 | chapter 17

"The wedding will start in an hour, Your Grace," Cersei's handmaiden announced when she knocked on her chamber's door. The Queen Mother was at the balcony overlooking the fields of Sunspear and the neighboring ocean, gaze fixed ahead on the ship that will bring them home after the wedding.

"I'll be out in a minute," Cersei replied, making the girl bow and left in a hurry. She drank a mouthful from her cup of wine, staring blankly ahead.

She knew she shouldn't be intoxicated during her daughter's wedding, but it was the only way she knew how to remain approachable around the Martells during the event, especially around you.

Her nails dug into the wooden rail as she tried to control her fury. Why did you have to keep the truth from her? Why did you have to betray her this way?

When another servant entered the room saying, "A raven came from your brother, Your Grace."

She motioned for the servant to come forward and hand her the scroll.

The Lannister woman's lips ticked upward into a smug smile the moment she unrolled and read the contents, knowing she could only trust her family and no one more. She knew Jaime would do everything to ensure the throne's safety. Their son's safety.

"I would like to be escorted now to the garden," Cersei said to the servant, as she placed the empty cup on the nearby table.

~~~

It was total torture to look at the woman you loved and couldn't do anything about it. You hadn't talked to Cersei since that very night, and you terribly missed her. Failed attempts to talk to the Queen Mother had been your task since then, but Cersei had always found ways to escape you.

Haunted by nightmares causing sleepless nights, you were so close to give up on Daenerys and surrender to Cersei alone. But you wanted to give your sister a chance. She was your own blood.

The wedding was held in the Water Gardens, where Trystane and Myrcella first met. And there Cersei sat at the royal seats, looking so elegant and beautiful in her shiny red and gold flowing dress, looking everywhere but you.

It was cruel to see how she completely ignored you as if you were one of the Dornish servants. Even others could tell the unspeakable tension between the two of you, it even caused an issue when you tried to explain the situation to Oberyn.

It's easier this way, Y/n, was what he said to you.

Maybe you and Cersei weren't just for each other. Just like two parallel lines, close but never meant to be together.

~~~

“Let it be known that Prince Trystane of House Martell and Princess Myrcella of House Baratheon, are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

As you watched the couple go through their lines, the corner of your eyes caught a sliver of unusual movement. One of the Dornish guards was acting out of the ordinary, even its uniform was poorly worn. You decided to ignore it, you had no time to think about decency at a time like this.

“I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days,” Trystane said as Myrcella spoke her line, “I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

There was a burning sensation in your gut telling you something was wrong. So when you looked back at that guard, he was no longer where you had seen him last, and had seem to neglect his position.

Your eyes began to search around. Until one corner, you finally saw him at one of the palace's balconies. Adrenaline filled you the moment you saw him nock an arrow that was pointed down towards Myrcella.

You made a run for it and jumped in front of the girl, pushing her to the ground as your arm took the hit. You let out a pained yelp, but you knew you need to act fast.

The attack brought a commotion amongst the guests, sending them scurrying towards the exits. Fighting then ensued.

With an injured arm, you unsheathed your sword as you yelled at Trystane to protect Myrcella, before heading towards where Cersei was seated.

As expected, the enemies had cornered Cersei, as if it was their plan all along when they managed to execute the poor Lannister guards protecting the woman. You fought your way through as you defended the Queen Mother, metals clashing against metals, blood splattering everywhere.

And when the last one fell down, you grabbed Cersei's arm as you led her to safety.

Another guard, who you knew was one of the Sand Snakes, blocked the exit. You let go of the Lannister woman as you fought against him valiantly, avoiding his attacks with mere luck.

"Cersei! Get back to the palace!" you shouted, pointing towards another hidden exit as you swung at the enemy. "Trystane's guards will protect you."

You couldn't paint Cersei's face. She looked so helpless as she was when you fought against the Mountain. She hesitated to leave your side. But the Queen's safety was the only thing in your mind at that moment.

Another pair of Sand Snakes came running from the exit, making you yell at Cersei again. "Leave now!"

This made the woman move and run towards the door you pointed. Thankfully, the Dornish guards had managed to eliminate the enemies in the garden and came to help you.

But the help you thought would be provided to you after defeating the Sand Snakes was the opposite, as the Dornish guards only pointed their spears at your throat, making you drop your weapon to the ground as surrender, confusion filling your head.

They tied your wrists behind your back then pulled you back inside the palace. Fear continued to grow inside you, knowing the inevitable.

~~~

"I can't believe you'd betray me like this," Doran began. "My very own blood."

Oberyn was kneeling before him, his hands tied up behind his back the same as yours. Ellaria, your guardian father and some of the Martells and Sands accomplices were kneeling next to Oberyn and you.

The outdoor courts were seldom used in trials. Today would be the exception, knowing what the Prince had on his mind.

Your eyes searched for the Lannisters women and found them safely beside the Prince's guards, Myrcella beside Trystane, and Cersei behind Myrcella.

"The Lannisters are the true enemy, brother," Oberyn replied. "You knew that from the start, yet you're the one who betrayed us."

Cersei's cold face as she avoided your eyes made you lose any hope to what was happening at the moment.

"I expected better from all of you, but to harm a young girl in my land, is treason enough," Doran said. "We don't harm young girls in Dorne."

"Girls are always harmed everywhere," Ellaria interjected, her voice cold as she glared at the Lannister. "Tell them, Cersei! Tell them how you have one of our daughters in your cells, captured against her will!"

It made you glance back at the woman. Surely Cersei had her own reasons for doing that. But knowing Cersei, she could just be a hateful woman.

The woman only maintained a cold facade, unaffected by the accusations. Doran went on as if nothing happened.

"You knew what this means, right?" Doran stood, motioning towards his trusted guard who immediately headed to the weaponry to retrieve his sword. "Any act of treason is punishable by death."

Everyone who witnessed expelled murmurs of disbelief and wonder. Shedding blood in Dorne was unknown for ages. But Doran had gone mad.

You swallowed nervously as you stared at the ground. This is it. Your death.

"How could you?!" Oberyn protested as he was the one being pulled forward by one of the Dornish guards, then Ellaria, then you.

You saw a movement from the corner of your eye, Cersei walking towards Doran as she whispered to his ear things you couldn't hear. Doran only waved her away, dismissing her. Cersei's stature changed as she went hectic.

"Any act of treason," Doran reiterated, ignoring the Queen Mother. "Is punishable by death. I have told Y/n about it—"

"She protected me!" Myrcella countered, stepping beside her mother. "She took the shot!"

"A shot she knew was happening!" Doran said.

"She had no idea! She's not involved with our plans!" Your guardian father stood, making everyone silent. "Have mercy on her. If not us, just her. . . Your very own daughter!"

Shocks filled the entire court. Cersei's eyes went back to yours then back at Doran, disbelief displayed on her face.

Doran only froze, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"Have you never wondered? What with the multiple times you spent with Rhaella in the Capital as she was being punished by the Mad King, comforting her, and protecting her?" your guardian father continued.

"Rhae- . . . Rhaella said," Doran stuttered now avoiding your eyes. He almost staggered back without the help of his cane. "Rhaella said she lost her child. Our child."

"And why do you think she did that?" Oberyn butted in. "It's because you had gone mad, brother. She was planning to tell you before before she left for Dragonstone. But she said you had changed. You supported the Baratheon's assassination plans to execute all Targaryens just to secure your land in Dorne. You were involved in the slaughter of Targaryen blood, if I do so recall. She only protected your own daughter from . . . you."

"She . . . is no daughter of mine," Doran hissed. "Our child was unborn."

Your eyes shutted on their own, fighting back tears. You had been rejected before but never like this, causing tremendous hurt not yet encountered. By your real father. By Cersei. By the entire Martells.

Cersei could see you avoiding everyone's gaze and somehow she felt the urge to go to your side and comfort you. She was mad at you for lying to her, but not to cause your own demise. She couldn't live to the thought of losing you like this.

You didn't deserve it. She knew deep down inside you weren't involved in the attack. She wished she could convey this message to you, if you could only lift your head and look back at her. But you didn't meet her gaze anymore.

Oberyn then moved forward. "Then let us leave in peace. If not us, just let Y/n leave. She doesn't deserve your wrath. She's innocent. Just because she's partly Targaryen doesn't mean she's like the Mad King."

"No!" Doran was fuming. "I will not stand to false gossips! You're only prolonging the execution, distracting me." He looked at his trusted guard. "Proceed!"

Cersei immediately stepped forward, holding Doran's arm."Stop this nonsense! King Tommen would not agree to this! They should be given trial in King's Landing!"

"I do what is pleased in my own land, Lady Cersei," Doran insisted, brushing her hand off him.

"If this is still your land after King Tommen finds out what you did," Cersei threatened coldly. "He could have you beheaded for acting on your own without consulting his counsel."

Trystane came forward with Myrcella. "Father, Y/n saved my betrothed. At least, she deserves a fair trial."

The commotion were getting loud as you all that were acquitted guilty were being dragged into the pits waiting for execution. You were pushed to the ground by one of the guards, making you close your eyes as you waited for cold steel against your neck, as you waited for the end.

It didn't come. There was a beastly growl coming from a distance that made everyone freeze and look at the sky.

"Nymeros," you whispered, opening your eyes as you lifted your head to look up.

Nymeros appeared at the courts, flapping its wings against the ground before it landed right in front of you. When it roared in anger, the Dornish guards stood back, the weapons of some even slipping from their hold.

The guests were frozen for another second before they all scattered to run away from the pits.

Doran then ordered, "Attack!"

But the attacks were only extinguished by flames when Nymeros blew towards them, Dornish soldiers running ablaze screaming in pain.

When it moved forward towards Prince Doran, Doran only cowered in fear.

Then Nymeros looked at the Lannisters, at Cersei, snorting breaths of smoke her way. Cersei had never been terrified and amazed at the same time. She couldn't find herself to move. Dragons, the witch had said.

But Nymeros didn't attack her as the dragon continued to smell the Queen Mother, who only stood her ground.

"Nymeros!" you called, making the dragon look back and turn towards you. "Leave them be!"

Cersei then realized it was you, the reason the dragon didn't attack her. It was your dragon.

"Leave us, Y/n," Oberyn said beside you. "Leave for Dragonstone. Queen Daenerys, your sister, will be waiting for you."

"I can't just leave you all here," you answered.

When Doran had ordered another attack, Oberyn then insisted. "You're our only chance! I will convince my brother, don't worry about us!"

"Just go, Y/n!" your guardian father yelled and you could see he was holding back his tears.

You immediately climbed unto Nymeros' back when you saw a long huge spear being readied by the Dornish guards, preparing for the attack.

Your eyes met Cersei's one last time, and you knew then she was sorry as you also were. Sorry that love wasn't enough for the two of you who were not meant to be together. A lion and a dragon were not a good pair.

"Sōvēs!"

Nymeros then jumped and flew to the sky, away from Sunspear castle, away from Dorne. Away from Cersei.

Author's note: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much. ❤

[haikyu-mp4]

Monster

word count; 979 – gn!reader who is shorter than Tendo

I had the idea to write two different reactions depending on the reader being either more extroverted or more introverted, feel free to read both or either option:)

It was raining outside, which made your little stroll to the vending machine all the more pleasurable. The sound of the little raindrops falling on the buildings, lawn and concrete was quite therapeutic. All because you were under a roof, of course, you were not as excited to cross the lawn in a minute to meet your boyfriend after his volleyball practice in this weather. Typical of you to never bring an umbrella.

You put in some coins, clicked the button and crouched down to pick up your strawberry milk before straightening up again and turning back around. Annoyingly enough, you were met with a startling wall. Two guys were standing a bit too close to just be in line for the machine, and the looks in their eyes were mischievous in a bad way. It’s the kind of eyes people say Tendo has even though all you ever see in them is endearment.

“You’re the one dating that monster, aren’t you?” one of the guys said while the other one huffed as if it was funny.

Tough extroverted reader

“Can I help you?” you asked back with a confused expression, not seeing any reason why you’d discuss your dating life with these guys. You opened the milk and took a sip before tilting your head to await their answer.

“We should be asking you that. Someone so pretty stuck with such a freak. What’s he threatening you with?” The guy kept talking, truly stepping on thin ice. You scrunched your nose and took another sip, not exactly comfortable with the situation but not wanting to leave without defending your boyfriend either.

“You jealous or something? I’ll let you know I’m perfectly happy with my dating life.” You take a step closer to the guy who apparently did all the barking. “And his name is Tendo Satori,” you said in a clear voice as if trying to burn the name into their brains. If they were going to call him a monster, it better be because of how he rules the volleyball court. You had half a mind to tell them that as well, but the moment was interrupted.

Their eyes were slowly cast in a shadow before they could respond. If only you could see the reflection in their eyes of your boyfriend’s smirk behind you. “That was pretty hot.” Tendo finally says after letting you answer them yourself. It startled you a little, before relaxing into his touch stroking down your arm. You leaned your shoulders back on his chest, a cocky smile on your face from watching the other guys lose their confidence. Tendo leaned down and obnoxiously kissed your cheek to make a point before lifting a hand towards the boys and shooing them away. “You heard them.”

“Whatever, weirdos.” They put on some tough faces that weren’t very believable, and you turned around to Satori while they scurried away. Being weirdos together definitely wasn’t that bad.

“Satorii,” you purred, happy to see him.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Again.” He said, obviously trying to be aloof about it, but you could see through it.

“I’m sorry too,” you said with a soft smile, knowing he knew what you meant, before grabbing his hand and tip-toeing to peck his cheek. “I thought I was meeting you?”

“I know you didn’t bring an umbrella,” he answered, finally showing a genuine smile. “My dorm? I’ll make you something sweet.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Soft introverted reader

You felt your pulse quicken with angst, eyes not meeting theirs but rather desperately hoping someone you know would pass by. “Can I help you?” you asked carefully, wishing that if they had to talk about your boyfriend behind his back, they would do it behind yours too. A blind person could see you were not the confronting type.

“We should be asking you! What kind of freak are you to be dating that?” he said, a cruel comment that didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you mumbled, avoidant as ever. Why would they care about your dating life anyway?

“Won’t you at least look at us with those pretty eyes, monster-lover?” the other one said, taking an unwelcomed step closer.

“He's not a monster,” you said, making an attempt at defending your boyfriend but still feeling tears brim your eyes from the confrontation.

Finally, you saw your salvation, like a stream of light finally peering through the clouds and hitting your face. The two boys were about to turn around when they saw your eyes lock on something between them, but were stopped as Tendo grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled them back, giving you space to breathe. “But I can be... if you ever make them cry,” he said in a goofy albeit frightening voice. His eyes crept from one boy to the other as if making sure the threat sank in before passing them and taking your hand to lead you away. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles while you walked before letting your hand go so he could open his umbrella and hold it above you. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” he said softly, trying to seem like he didn’t care about himself, just that you had to hear it.

“It’s okay. They were being shitheads anyways,” you huffed, anger seeping in now that you didn’t have to face them anymore.

“Ooh, language, baby.” Tendo laughed and looked down at you with adoration flowering in his eyes.

“Shut up,” you giggled, pushing your shoulder into his before tucking your arm around his closest arm so you could walk together even if he held the umbrella. Safe to say that anger dissipated quickly.

“I’ll treat you to some A-class cuddles for standing up for me like that. My dorm?”

“Yes, my love.”

masterlist

[willows-escape]

Symbolic - 1990!Erik x Reader - Part 1

Pairing - Erik (1990! Charles Dance) x (Female) Reader

Summary - the topic of the mask was the last obstacle in your blossoming relationship, and you were desperate to cross the barrier and become fully intertwined with the man you loved and claimed he loved you too.

Warnings - erik’s deformity is a mix of the deformity we see erik have as a child in the 1990 version and the musical, phantom having a small breakdown, the ✨mask✨topic, poorly dealt with feelings, miscommunication, suggestive moments and reference to genitalia and arousal, descriptions of a gory facial disfigurement, intense self hatred, mentions of christine but she’s long gone in this

Word Count - 4,770

Notes - there will be a part 2 i gotchu i gotchu. should part 2 be smutty or also just suggestive? also i tried writing this in a victorian-esque tone but if you arent vibing with that let me know and i’ll switch it up for part 2. i just thought it would be a nice touch.

give me feedback !!! pleasee !!!!

01 (you're here!) / 02

The nearby sound of trickling water gracefully blended into the ambiance of your surroundings; the towering trees above you resembled a verdant canopy. The quilt beneath you protected your body from the prickly blades of grass and artificial soil, offering a comfortable spot to recline with your hair spread out beneath you, shimmering in the artificial light.

You laid supine, hands elevated above you to cradle a book you had recently begun reading. The words captivated your attention, submerging you in a realm of fantasy and euphoria. Reading was your preferred means of escaping reality, a release you frequently yearned for when the burdens of the world weighed on your shoulders. It all faded away when you became engrossed in the pages of a book.

Regrettably, you were not the only person who was aware of your coping mechanisms. The situation was quite an affair, so you wouldn’t delve too deeply into the small details, but the love of your life had at long last informed you of his reciprocal affection for you. It felt magical and otherworldly to hear that sweet confession escape his enthralling lips, his eyes penetrating into the depths of your soul as his hands tenderly grasped your waist. You had witnessed the words that you only ever seemed to hear in your dreams.

So what had left you so apprehensive?

Well, the man you spoke so highly about, Erik, did not seem to return those high opinions for you. There was a part of himself he laboured ceaselessly to conceal from you, a mask that symbolically and literally kept up a barrier between your world and his world to prevent them from intertwining. You’d exchanged tender sentiments, cried tears of anguish and passion the night you’d finally confessed. You clung to each other as if your lives depended on it and subjected each other to a night of basking in vulnerability and fragility as your secrets long harboured tumbled past your tongue before you could restrain them. The morning after was no less exquisite and that of a fairy tale romance, but the barrier remained.

That mask he wore, pale and icy to the touch, silently spoke of his distrust for you. The final puzzle piece that he adamantly refused to fit into place, even for the sake of your love. Oh, it was a cruel predicament indeed! All you desired was to behold the appearance of the man you held dear, but he swore by the highest heavens that his visage would send you fleeing, and that was the last outcome he desired. To some extent, you understood his apprehension, having heard him recount tales of how numerous individuals he had cared for and adored had reacted abhorrently upon the unveiling of his face. But how could he expect the two of you to spend the remainder of your lives together without even a glimpse of his unadorned skin?

You weren't expecting Prince Charming, and while you weren't entirely convinced by his claims of him having a face of nightmares, you did trust that he might not be conventionally attractive. After all, you had never seen him. Besides his gentlemanly actions and his physique that seemed as if it had been crafted by a divine being, you weren't going to assume that he was the most handsome man in the world. You would love him nonetheless. But no matter how greatly you persisted and promised him you wouldn’t leave despite what he looked like, he truly did not believe a word you said. And it hurt.

“A new book, dear?”

You glanced upward, granting the subject of your grovelling a tight lipped smile as you hastily flicked your attention back to the words on the page. No anger dwelled within you, just painful disappointment, and the ache in your heart made it hard to bare the sight of him. “Of course. It’s Jane Eyre.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his walking cane planted firmly into the ground below. You internally winced as the silence rang loud in the air. You were not seeking to upset your lover, but also somehow desiring to communicate that you weren't entirely pleased at the moment. It appeared that the message had travelled clear, but the upset was unavoidable.

A moment more passed before he spoke, “I feel a chill coming on. Seems as though it’s about to rain, don’t you think? Come, let’s retreat inside before it starts to pour.”

You arched a suspicious eyebrow, fingers still tightly clasped around the novel you held. If the plastic animals scattered around that Erik had stolen from the props department said anything, everything in this quaint woodsy area was unquestionably fake. From the dirt to the grass to the trees, the animals and the sky. It went without saying there would be no rainfall. This meant he wanted to discuss things with you without the distraction of your nose being buried within the pages of a book. And you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

“And why should I do that?” you questioned, paying him no eye contact as you pretended to continue to read.

“You wouldn’t want your clothing to get wet, would you? I won’t be visiting the laundry room of the opera house for another week, hence it would be wise to avoid sullying a valuable item of clothing,” he reasoned, knowing fully well that he’d drop whatever he was currently doing to run and fulfil any request you asked of him, never mind visiting the damn laundry room.

You parted your lips, ready to jestingly remark about how there would indeed be no rainfall. Yet, in that very moment, a peculiar sensation graced your senses. A solitary droplet of water descended upon your nose, its touch cold and trailing a path of dampness as it glided down your nasal bridge. A gasp escaped your lips as more droplets descended, their frequency increasing with each passing moment. In a hastened flurry, you stood upright, clasping your cherished book to your bosom. You abandoned the forgotten quilt as you sprinted through the doors adorned with stained glass, leading you back to Erik's modest dwelling. He followed closely, not far behind your hurried steps.

You’d have to speak to him about putting up a gazebo. To block out the sun, you’d tell him.

“Guess you were right,” you half-heartedly chuckled, absentmindedly tossing the book onto a table to the side of you.

You found yourself in Erik’s room of treasures, where he stored and cherished his most esteemed items, namely his collection of masks and his grand piano. The ambiance within was of a tranquil and serene nature, causing your anger to gradually dissipate. Yet, the sorrow and anguish still lingered within you.

"Forgive me, have I down something to displease you?" Erik questioned, his steps measured and deliberate as if he were trying not to startle you, akin to approaching a timid creature. With utmost gentleness, he lightly laid his hand upon your shoulder, allowing it to glide downward, tracing the contour of your arm.

"Erik…" you whispered, tearing your eyes away from him. Your heart faltered, your breath catching in your throat as his fingertips delicately brushed against your skin. A fire simmered in your core, your veins rushing with hot blood as the touch of his hand engulfed you, overwhelming your senses with a fervour. “I… do not wish to upset you.”

“The only upset you cause me is by not being honest with your feelings,” he replied, hand reaching up to gently trace the skin of your cheek. Your eyes felt weak, gently fluttering shut as you indulged yourself in his affections. “Please, tell me what is troubling you.”

You paused for a moment, allowing yourself to succumb to his touch for a little while longer. The words settled on the tip of your tongue, ready to escape you and take a leap of faith from your mouth to his waiting ears, but you’d already approached this subject with him before and did not wish to push him to frustration or sorrow.

“I just…” you paused, “One day, Erik, do you wish for us to be husband and wife?”

His eyes widened, mouth agape in shock at your blunt statement. He stammered in surprise, removing his hand from your cheek slowly. He drew in a deep breath before answering, “There is nothing I desire more than to be wedded to you. Where is this coming from? Are you feeling as though our relationship is moving too slow? I just didn’t want to frighten you by pushing for more. Why, I’ll marry you tomorrow-”

“Erik, Erik,” you laughed, hand coming up to cup his cheek with your own hand as he was doing to you seconds ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, though I’ll marry you the second you ask it of me. Maybe not tomorrow, however.”

“Ah,” his nerves tingled, goosebumps rising on his skin at the electricity of your touch. He cleared his throat before continuing, “While that is a great relief to me, may I ask as to why you asked that, if not for the reason I previously thought?”

Taking one last final pause, you readied yourself to confess your true want. “I know you’ve said no, and told me to not bring up the subject again… but my love, how can I marry somebody when I have yet to see their face?”

Erik pursed his lips, his eyes shifting down as he began fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. You felt dreadful witnessing the unease that the inquiry evoked in him, understanding that it inevitably resurrected distressing memories he longed to forget. Nevertheless, no advancement could transpire between the two of you in your relationship until he allowed you to see his face. You refused to be bound to someone who concealed such an essential aspect of himself, even if you knew the intentions to be entirely pure.

“I can’t do that,” Erik shook his head, walking away from you and moving towards his basket of walking canes. He placed his current one back with the bunch, before busying himself with rearranging his mask collection. He didn’t want to stray too far from you, but also wanted you to drop the subject.

You quietly tip toed behind him, enveloping him in your arms as you wrapped them around his waist and placed your head on his broad shoulder. You audibly heard his breathing pause, feeling him shiver as he relished in your touch. But nevertheless, he pushed on with rearranging his collection, although he wasn’t moving side to side around the table as he was doing previously.

“But why?” you asked.

“You know why, my face is that of nightmares. And I’ve hurt too many by showing them what they believed they could handle. My expectations are realistic.”

“You could never hurt me!” You insisted, your emotions getting the best of you as you retreated from him. He hunched over slightly, hands resting upon the clear spot of table in front of him to steady himself. His head twitched to the side as he bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Dear, I know you think that I exaggerate when I speak of my face, but I can assure you that I do not lie out of simple insecurity. My own father hid me down here due to my appearance, that must speak volumes,” he sighed, coming up once again to stand straight. “Now please, do not ask again.”

“So when I inevitably return to wallowing in my own feelings and escaping to the woods for hours at a time again, will you tell me to not ask again when you approach the subject of my feelings once more?” you tried to reason, desperately wanting him to view the situation from your point of view.

He didn’t respond for a little while, evidently pondering your words that he knew deep down held some veracity. The matter of the mask was evidently causing you distress, and he couldn't fathom any solution that would alleviate your concerns. But alas, he simply couldn't bring himself to do so.

“I’m sorry, my answer’s no.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and longing. Your vision blurred as a single tear cascaded down your cheek, tracing a path of sorrow. Your body trembled with silent sobs, your shoulders shook as you struggled to hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume you. The ache in your heart grew stronger, as if each tear shed was a testament to the love and vulnerability you had offered, only to be met with rejection.

“My dear, please, don’t cry over me,” his arms swiftly enfolded you in an embrace, his own frame quivering with an inability to endure the sight of your tears. With a resolute tenderness, he pressed his chilled lips upon your forehead, bestowing a gentle kiss as he cradled your head against his chest. In a steady rhythm, he swayed, seeking to soothe your anguish and stifle the heart breaking sounds that escaped your lips.

“How can I not?” you wept, fingers shaking from how firmly you were clinging onto his white button up shirt. You were grabbing on to him so tight you feared your nails would pierce holes in the delicate fabric, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relinquish your grip no matter how much you internally fought with yourself. Nothing you were doing seemed to be venting your frustrations adequately, leaving you at a loss for how to cope. "My love, the very essence of my existence, the one who breathes life into me, steadfastly refuses to show me his face."

“You must understand- I feel for you exactly as you describe your feelings for me, if not tenfold. That’s why I can’t show you. I’m protecting you just as much I want to protect myself,” he confessed, eyes squeezing shut as his swaying slowed to a stop. His grip was becoming tighter and tighter.

“I know life has dealt you an unfair hand, Erik, I’ve heard your cries and witnessed your heartbreak. I was there for you all throughout Christine, I was there to see your regret and misery as she left you behind. I did not leave your side for a second. I know the great despair and trauma her reaction to your face cast upon you, but please believe not a hair on my head resembles Christine. I will not hurt you the same.”

Erik held you a little longer, his embrace becoming even more so impossibly tighter. He wasn’t urgent to reply, instead allowing himself to bask in your love for as long as he could manage. Your sweet love was an addiction, an ambrosia he craved every single waking hour. But even then you lived in his dreams, your angelic presence blessing him wherever he went or whatever state he was in.

“I love you, Erik,” you spoke, looking upwards towards him as he began to tilt his head to share your unwavering gaze.

“I love you too,” he said.

“So show me,” you whispered, eyes glistening with tears and lips downturned into a subtle frown.

You took one last look into his eyes, before pushing yourself forward and up. Your lips met in a fervent union, a culmination of the deepest desires and longings that had long been brewing between you both. It was a kiss imbued with a delicate tenderness and an irresistible urgency, your mouths moving in perfect harmony. Each brush of his lips sent electric waves coursing through your body, igniting a blazing fire within your soul. In that timeless moment, you and him surrendered yourselves completely, losing all sense of time and space. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a silent pledge of profound love and unwavering devotion.

As you reluctantly broke the intimate connection, succumbing to the need for a breath of air, your gaze met his half-lidded eyes. His lips were swollen, and his tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. A blush crept across your cheeks as you attempted to conceal the rapid beating of your heart, finally becoming aware of his hands that had gradually ventured downward, tenderly tracing the curves of your waist.

He silently took a moment to recover, savouring the lingering taste of your kiss. It was unlike any other you had shared before - no longer innocent and brief, but a passionate embrace that ignited a fire within you. As your lips met, it felt as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a moment of pure bliss. The intensity of your connection was palpable, like a match being scraped against a stone, creating small sparks that danced and flickered between your bodies. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, your hearts racing with newfound desire and a longing for more.

“If you really insist on seeing my face, come with me to your room. I do not wish to make you feel cornered, but if you are to faint I wish for you to not bring yourself harm.”

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The kiss you shared made every colour appear more vibrant and the air feel lighter, filling every fibre of your being with pure bliss. As you followed him, each step felt buoyant, as if you were walking on air.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your room. Erik was very against you two sharing a bedroom, stating that he did not wish to make you uncomfortable or feel trapped next to him, when the reality couldn’t be farther from that. But you feared that he might’ve just been projecting, that he was the one who felt uncomfortable and trapped with the idea of you two sharing a room, so you’d left the topic alone for another day. That day still hasn’t arrived.

Erik took a hold of your hand, gently pulling you in and shutting the door behind you. He shook slightly, so lightly that you almost thought your eyes were deceiving you. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything, besides how much I love you,” you giggled.

“I… will not keep you down here, if you decide you never want to see me again. I’ve learnt my lessons, do not fear you reaching the same fate Christine did when she reacted negatively.”

You wanted to protest his words, state that you feeling negatively towards him was inconceivable and never going to happen. You also wanted to tell him to stop mentioning Christine, just the utterance of her name made you scowl. But you didn’t want to argue at a time like this, so you just nodded your head.

“Before I take this awful thing off… that kiss was everything I’ve ever wanted and more. If after this you no longer love me, please know that your display of love made me feel like a normal, living man, and that I’m doing this because I know I can die happy after the fact, if you were to leave.”

“I’m honoured to be able to make you feel that way, my love.”

He hesitantly extended his hand towards the strings that secured his mask to his head, skillfully undoing the knot he had carefully tied. As he prepared to remove the mask, he couldn't help but steal a final wistful glance at you, savoring the moment before gradually peeling it away from his skin, gripping the edges tightly with his other hand. The air seemed to hold its breath as the mask revealed the vulnerable visage beneath, unveiling a hidden side that had long been concealed.

His face was a grotesque sight, something that defied accurate description. The skin was cruelly stripped away, revealing the raw and twisted muscles beneath. It was a horrifying visage, and it made your heart ache. He was deformed, disfigured; the only parts of his face that were covered in flesh were swollen and bright red, contrasting the pale whiteness of his bone. You tried your best to swallow the gasp that was pushing past your throat, but you were human.

You were sure you could hear the sound of his heart shattering, but you were so shocked you could only watch as he crumbled to his knees before you. His screams and cries made you nauseous, his repeated wails of, ‘why!? why!? why!?’ as he grabbed onto the hem of your skirt, hiding his face in the fabric in his suffering. You snapped back into reality, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Erik, no, please-”

“Go, please. Leave me.”

“No, please, hear me out. I don’t hate you-”

“This is hardly a face you’d want to marry!” he protested, burying his face deeper into the fabric of your skirt, resisting as you tried to pull it away. “You may not hate me, but you’re scared! Is this the face of a man you could wake up next to, spend the rest of your love with, make love to at night before we sleep? Please just go!”

“No!” you cried, relenting on your attempts to tear his desperate self away from your skirt. You wrapped your arms around him, this time cradling him against your bosom as you rocked back and forth. You felt the tension slowly dissipate from his form. “I do not hate you and I am not scared of you! I want to do all those things with you, Erik, please I swear!”

His quiet sobs continued to echo through the air, his scared body shaking erratically. With utmost tenderness, you cradled his quivering form in your arms, holding him close and providing a safe haven for his shattered heart. Gently, you brushed your fingers through his hair, whispering words of love and reassurance into his ear. Your touch and soothing voice offered him comfort and solace, doing your best to remind him that your love extended far beyond mere physical appearances.

In that moment, as he sought refuge in your embrace, you felt an overwhelming surge of love and compassion for this broken man before you. Despite the mask he wore, both symbolically and literally, you saw the depth of his pain and the vulnerability he rarely allowed others to witness. Your heart ached for him, yearning to heal the wounds that had haunted him for far too long.

"You are more than your face, Erik," you whispered softly, your voice filled with unwavering affection. "Your heart, your soul, and the love we share transcends any physical imperfections. I love you for who you are, please believe that."

As his sobs gradually subsided, he looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, searching for a glimmer of hope and acceptance. In that moment, you saw a spark of belief flicker within him, a tiny beacon of light amidst the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"I… I want to believe you," he choked out, his voice trembling with both fear and longing. "But all my life people have only said different. How can they when I don’t have a face, and only the resemblance of a face?”

You held his face gently in your hands, your touch conveying a tenderness that words alone could not express. "I understand. I’m sorry for reacting like that, please forgive me. I love you regardless of your face, it was just unlike anything I’d ever seen before. That’s all. I feel no differently for you than how I felt before you removed the mask.”

He hesitantly inclined towards your touch, his eyes seeking yours for reassurance and acquiescence. He quivered as a vehement cry escaped his lips once more, bedewing your bodice in his tears. Yet, you cared not the slightest, more preoccupied with consoling the poor man trembling before you.

You both sat together on the floor of your bedroom for an indeterminate span of time, but to you it felt like hours. You cradled him like a mother would her infant, tenderly caressing and comforting him with gentle touches and whispered reassurances. You hadn’t seen Erik shed tears since the evening of your confession, and you could only surmise that all the trepidation and unease had finally reached a breaking point and crumbled along with his composure. It deeply saddened you to know the man you loved so intensely hated himself and had been hated so harshly by those around him. You vowed to never cause him pain like everybody else had as long as you both lived.

Eventually, he withdrew from you, gracefully settling on his knees, his hands still shielding his face from your view, protecting his vulnerability. He wiped away the glistening tears that adorned his cheeks, his other hand instinctively seeking to conceal himself from your gaze. A pensive frown graced your mouth as you hesitantly reached upward, your fingers yearning to grasp his trembling hands, only to recoil as he instinctively recoiled in response to your advance.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve seen it all now, haven’t I?” you hushed, hands dropping from his hands but instead reaching up to smooth back his hair with your fingers.

He sniffled quietly, “Forgive me, I did not intend on frightening you. I am simply unused to showing my bare face around others, it’s unfamiliar.”

“Of course, I understand, love,” you smiled, gently trailing your hand down the side of his face. Goosebumps littered his skin like a trail.

You moved closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. You kept one hand on his face, basking in the warmth of his skin that didn't have any disfigurement. Your other hand gently draped over his shoulder as you approached, your fingers delicately tracing the contours of his back. He quivered beneath your touch, his legs extending out from under him to create a space for you to come impossibly closer. As you lowered yourself onto his lap, a surge of electricity coursed through your veins. His breath, warm and intoxicating, caressed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands trembled with uncertainty, itching to remove themselves from his face to come down and touch you instead. You chuckled.

“You can hold me.”

His breath caught in his throat, his mind filled with a whirlwind of desires as he absorbed the words that flowed from your enchanting lips. You couldn't help but chuckle softly, savouring the profound effect you had on the man beneath you.

“I’d like to put on my mask, dear,” Erik finally spoke, “As much as I love having you so close, I’m not ready to show myself to you so unashamedly yet.”

With a nod of your head, you stepped back, allowing him the space he needed to shroud his face from view. Though you comprehended the internal struggle he faced after years of hiding, a bittersweet pang of sadness tugged at the depths of your heart. The poignant reality that he still felt the need to shield himself wounded you deeply. But you tried to keep reminding yourself that it wasn’t personal.

He swiftly and efficiently retied the strings, maintaining his determination, as he stood up following you. You leaned in and planted a brief but meaningful kiss on his lips, savoring the moment before reluctantly breaking away. With a mix of emotions swirling inside, you diverted your attention, attempting to shift your focus away from the recent event that had transpired.

“I’ll be out dusting the statues, you haven’t kept up with them in a while and I’d noticed them on the way in and I think they could really use a clean. I’ll speak to you later.” You quickly retreated from the room without even sparing a second glance.

Erik stood there, mouth agape, unable to comprehend the suddenness of your departure. His mind was flooded with a multitude of questions, doubts, and confusion, hindering his ability to think clearly. As he glanced around the room, an overwhelming sense of awe washed over him, as he tried to process the intensity of the moment and the speed at which you had vanished from his presence. Meanwhile, his body felt an uncomfortable strain, as his arousal pressed insistently against the constricting fabric of his trousers, adding yet another layer of complexity to his already tumultuous thoughts.

You were no less aroused, the tingling sensation in your nether regions proving that you had been mutually affected by your lover. Oh lord, this was going to cause problems.