#in the midst of kingdom 4 now

[glittergoats]

Kingdom 3...you literally had to be there

[imfoive]

Crystal Bird - Chapter 8

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of war, assassination, animal hunting/cruelty, disease, death, somewhat proofread WC: 6.3k A/N: god I loved writing this chapter!! I’m so excited for the next one! Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7

CHAPTER 8 ───────────────────

The sound of horses trotting echoed through the Grand Forest, the terrain suddenly foreign yet familiar to Chris who had visited briefly on his first day in Elysium. Tell-tale signs of his carvings that he had marked the trees with, still vaguely visible against the wood, but this time, he felt out of place. 

Surrounded by haughty noble lords who laughed among themselves, he spotted Prince Ian ahead, engrossed in conversation with his friends. The foreign princes remained silent on their horses, observing and waiting at the rear end of the group.

Glancing at Hyunjin, Chris noted the way the Sylvancrest Prince took in the foreign greenery, clearly amazed. It seemed he had reverted to his polite, naive demeanor, as if their tense game of chess had never occurred. Hyunjin caught Chris’ gaze, his lips curving into a smile that irritated the Nightshade Prince, prompting him to quickly look away.

Their guards, Han and Seungmin, lingered several yards back among the Elysium Knights accompanying their hunting party, their attention fixed on their respective princes.

Han felt uneasy, acutely aware that Minho was somewhere in the forest, perhaps in the midst of completing his own mission. Chris’ earlier remark about the possibility of an ambush, even if meant as a joke, lingered in his mind, an unsettling thought that something dangerous could unfold hadn’t left his mind.

The warrior guard would have taken a deep breath to rid him of his anxious thoughts. He would have convinced himself that nothing unusual would happen that afternoon. But a sudden stench of blood filled his nose. A distant, but lingering smell that made him stare straight ahead to his Prince’s form, aware that Prince Christopher had probably picked up on it as well.

The Nightshade Prince’s eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze suddenly scanning the lush greenery around them, instantly guarded as he caught a whiff.

The metallic stench of blood hung faintly in the air, a looming scent that only the Nightshade Warriors seemed to detect, it seemed. Hyunjin remained absorbed in the foliage, while Ian and his entourage appeared completely unbothered, laughing and chatting as if nothing was amiss. 

   “Are you ready princes?” One of the young lords exclaimed as the group gathered, their horses forming a circle. 

They began discussing what was to come.

The rules were straightforward. The more kills, the more points. Bigger kills earned double points, and the winner would receive a thousand gold coins.

   “Last year, Prince Ian got a moose!” Another young noble had exclaimed, impressed anew as he recalled the memory.

Chris and Hyunjin exchanged glances as they watched Ian try to downplay his achievement. Yet the grin on his face and the smug expression betrayed his pride.

   “Knowing Prince Hyunjin’s nature from the brief time I’ve had to observe him, it’s safe to say he isn’t particularly skilled with a bow. Isn’t that right, Prince Hyunjin?” Ian almost snickered, turning to the Sylvancrest prince. 

Hyunjin maintained his calm demeanor, his lips thinning into a smile.

   “Maybe. I’m not very competitive so your observation might be accurate indeed.” Hyunjin replied, his words dripping with politeness. 

The other young nobles erupted in “Ohhh’s,” clearly amused by his calm retort.

All this was pre-game banter. Jabs that were meant to rile everyone up, to make them unleash their rage through hunting.

Ian’s laughter gradually faded as he turned his attention to the Nightshade Prince. Chris, focused on identifying the source of the lingering stench of blood, didn’t have any particular interest in this small talk, let alone have anything to snicker about.

   “I’m very intrigued to see what kind of game our ferocious warrior prince will bring us.” Ian taunted next, locking eyes with Prince Christopher. 

Chris sat upright, his expression impassive, though he raised an eyebrow in response.

   “I fought a bear once, back in Nightshade. Who knows what creatures I might encounter here on your Elysium soil?” He delivered the words with a laugh, but Ian’s gaze sharpened, sensing the subtle slight in Chris’ tone. 

With a final muttering of, “We’ll see,” from Prince Ian, an Elysium guard, who was the referee for this god-awful hunting sport, approached them. The game had officially begun. Each participant slung a pouch of arrows across their back, gripping their bows tightly in hand. 

At the sound of a horn, the noble and royal men dispersed, the atmosphere shifting from playful banter to a sudden seriousness. The competitiveness that had previously masked itself as a leisurely excursion, now surged to the forefront, each hunter focused on claiming victory in the hunt.

They were all prideful, a common personality trait amongst Elysium society it seemed.

Of course Chris couldn’t fall behind, glancing back at his personal guard, who sat stiffly in the distance, before nodding and urging his horse to pick up its pace.

As Prince Christopher disappeared into the greenery of tall trees, Han turned to Seungmin, who remained silent, his narrowed gaze fixed on the direction where his own prince had galloped off in. 

   “Aren’t you worried.” Han found himself asking, the earlier talk of ambushes and poison creeping into his thoughts, the lingering stench of blood still sharp in his nose.

Seungmin shot him a brief glance before returning his focus to the dense greenery of the forest. 

   “My prince is quite capable.” His words were curt, almost mumbled, but just loud enough for Han to catch, suddenly making him realize it was the first time he had heard Seungmin speak.

Han blinked, looking around at the Elysium knights, especially Ian’s head knight, who lingered at the edge of the forest marking the starting line. It was clear they took this game seriously. Even the guards were not allowed to intrude, as if there were no threats in these woods. But for Ian and his noble friends, who could barely handle a bow, it seemed safe. For the foreign princes, however, even the snap of a twig could pose a threat in this unfamiliar territory of the Grand Forest.

Deeper into the forest, there was a stillness, a quiet calm that enveloped the Warrior Prince, eyes wandering around at every rustle of bushes, of leaves underneath the gallop of horses.

   “Why are you following me?” Chris muttered, turning to spare a glance at Prince Hyunjin trailing behind.

The Sylvancrest Prince broke into a smile, speeding up to ride alongside him. 

   “I’m not very good at hunting animals.” He confessed, looking around.

Chris couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at his honest words, surprised that this man was the same one that played chess with him earlier that day. He had been slightly competitive back then, slightly something else. With a look in his eyes that was not present now. Instead looking at the Warrior Prince with a friendly, playful gaze.

   “I don’t think anyone here is as good at hunting as they claim to be.” Chris replied, exhaling in slight frustration as he recalled lord what’s-his-face asking which hand to pull the arrow with.

This time the Sylvancrest Prince laughed lightly, his eyes still wide with wonder at the lush foliage of the Grand Forest. 

   “Then maybe I’ll have a chance to easily catch a moose myself.”  He mused, still fascinated by a scenery he wouldn’t find back in Sylvancrest.

Chris didn’t respond, his attention focused on the trail ahead. He studied the path, still trying to pinpoint the source of the distant blood scent. His senses heightened, he remained alert, ready to fight if the situation demanded it.

   “Prince Ian seemed to be quite skilled, though. At least skilled enough to graze the second princess with his arrow.” Hyunjin said casually, but it was enough to make Chris pull the reins of his horse to a halt.

   “She seemed fine earlier. Did she have any complaints?—Is she in pain?” The Nightshade Prince’s words were laced with concern, his gaze betraying a hint of worry.

Hyunjin blinked, surprised by Chris’ reaction, before his brows relaxed. 

   “She didn’t mention any pain. I was just recalling her unusual behavior from last night.” He replied, referring to her stumbling in the dining hall corridors from the injured shoulder.

Except recalling last night, all Chris could think about was the chill of the night air as he snuck into her chambers. Her wide eyes filled with shock. Her lips trembling under his touch. 

Suddenly anger bubbled up inside him all over again, darkening his expression.

Hyunjin noticed the change, his eyes widening in confusion anew. 

   “Did something I say make you uncomfortable?” His voice cut through Chris’ thoughts, causing the Nightshade Prince to tighten his grip on the reins as he glanced at him.

Then there was this Eastern Sea prince, this man who was becoming increasingly annoying. His riddle-like conversations and air-headed demeanor, which Chris suspected was feigned, his constant hovering around the second princess, all began to grate on his nerves.

   “Focus on the game. I’m going to find my moose.” Chris muttered, a dark glint flashed in his eyes. 

With a spirited “yip!” Chris spurred his horse into a swift gallop, leaving the Sylvancrest prince behind, who watched the Nightshade Prince’s figure disappear into the greenery, a mix of suspicion and curiosity lingering in his expression.

Yet, only a few minutes later, Chris began to falter, his horse slowing to a stop. He sniffed the air, his narrowed gaze scanning the surroundings as the scent of blood grew stronger. It seemed he was getting closer to whatever had been slain, the heavy stench hitting him with increasing intensity.

Finally, as he approached a suspicious heap, his eyes took in the sight of the dead animal underneath the tall weeds and grass. 

The slain moose lie lifeless on the cold forest ground in a pool of its own blood. Multiple arrows were lodged in the body that Chris’ eyes flitted over, catching sight of the bright purple ribbons tied to their tails. The vibrant color stood out starkly against the greenery. Arrows that belonged to Prince Ian, marking his claim on the kill. 

Except Ian hadn’t shot a single arrow, let alone killed anything. 

He had been too busy gloating and boasting to his friends. How could he claim this kill when the hunt had just begun? Unless he had the skills of an archery master, or this moose had simply been waiting for him to arrive and take its life. Both scenarios were so ridiculous, Chris could laugh.

It was a clear conclusion to come to, a guess anyone could make in such a situation.

This moose was killed beforehand, to stage a grand win for the crown prince, who not only sucked at archery, but was perhaps one of the biggest losers Chris had met. 

Maybe he should laugh out loud.

But of course, he didn’t laugh. The approaching sound of hoofbeats forced him to hide, moving out of sight.

It was Prince Ian, the star of this show. He had entered the stage, knowing exactly where he should stand, where he would find the animal he supposedly killed. 

The Elysium Crown Prince dismounted, hands on his hips, staring down at the slain creature. He crouched to count his arrows, making a disgusted face as he did so, his chuckles echoing in the stillness of the forest before he stood. The sound made Chris’ expression harden, anger rising as he watched Ian gloat over the dead animal. Staring at Ian looking down at this dead animal. 

He suddenly recalled how Ian looked down at everyone he deemed beneath him, 

How he looked down on Y/N, his smug smile, villainous as he struck her with that arrow.  

Chris watched, his gaze intent. That of a ferocious beast.

A predator locking onto his prey.

A Nightshade Warrior staring at his moose.

Prince Christopher’s hands had moved on their own, as if he had no control over them. One hand gripped the bow, while the other pulled an arrow taut. And with a single exhale he let go, the arrow instantly released into the air, slicing the silence of the forest before the sharp thud of its impact resonated through the trees.

Prince Ian froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the arrow that had pierced the tree in front of him, just inches from where he stood. Staring at the arrow that shook to a still, the phantom sensation of its swift passage by his ear, still lingered on him. As he exhaled, his breath trembled, fear etched on his face as he grasped just how narrowly he had escaped a deadly strike.

Then his eyes darted to the ribbon tied on the end. The bright red color that had been assigned to the Nightshade Prince was vibrant against the tree. The sound of hooves approached, pulling him from his thoughts. His legs trembled slightly from the near-death experience as he turned to face Prince Christopher, looking up to his figure mounted on his dark horse. Chris still held his bow, staring down with a unreadable intensity at the stunned Elysium Prince. A slight smirk tugged at his lips, but he quickly lowered his head to mask his amusement.

The Warrior Prince finally let out a loud “tsk”, looking back up.

   “You are such a skilled archer indeed, Prince Ian. Striking that moose before I could even nock my arrow.” Chris’ lies flowed effortlessly through his lips as he gazed down at the shaken prince.

Except his made-up scenario only made Ian stiffen further, the color draining from his face. Before he could utter a response, before he could even accuse the foreign prince of anything, the group of the other lords approached, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief as they took in the scene they stumbled upon.

The fallen moose. The countless arrows that stuck out of it. The single arrow lodged in the tree just behind their crown prince.

Their eyes flickered around, settling on the Nightshade Prince who was still mounted on his horse, awaiting for answers. Answers that easily left Chris’ lips, upturned into a gentle smile now.

   “Prince Ian’s aim is far superior to mine. How did he manage to hit this large fellow while my shot barely missed?” He glanced at the arrow embedded in the tree, an action mirrored by the young nobles.

Ian opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, he felt the weight of their stares, their cheers and praises echoing in his ears.

He remained silent. Acknowledging this made up scenario, perhaps even an act of an assassination that had been attempted. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak out against it. 

His pride was too large. So, he thinned his lips into a smile, masking the turmoil within.

──────────────────────── 

Y/N stared at Anna, who had just returned from running errands in town. Areas which Y/N would have snuck out herself to find solace from the suffocating environment of the palace grounds, but couldn’t due to the personal knight that seemed to not leave her tail. Especially since her mother learned of the arrow incident, berating her knight for leaving her alone after the royal dinner the previous evening.

The older woman had entered her chambers with a fury unsurprising, yet she didn’t know if she should scold her daughter for being an idiotic fool for her bold actions the previous afternoon. Or if she should glance over her wound to ensure that she was alright.

Perhaps Lady Katherine’s motherly instincts had kicked in.

Or maybe it was the fear of losing her ticket to a golden life that kept her anger at bay.

Instead of reprimanding Y/N, she insisted her daughter stay confined to her chambers.

With Sienna summoned to the Queen’s court and no tasks to occupy the second princess, it was an easy arrangement. It was for her own apparent good, for her chance to recover. The mother had claimed, despite Y/N’s protests, that she felt fine, thanks to the Nightshade medicine tucked in the drawers of her dresser.

But alas, she was not allowed out unless summoned. Now, Y/N sat with a new concern as she observed her personal maid. Her mind had been clouded with Sienna’s sad gaze and the words exchanged during their earlier walk, but Anna’s entrance shifted her focus. The girl’s usual cheerful demeanor had darkened, replaced by a solemn expression, as if something weighed heavily on her mind. Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in town, given that Anna had been bubbly right until she left.

   “What bad news has come to you?” Y/N asked, her thoughts slipping out easily between them.

Anna, busy unwrapping various items she’d brought from town, blinked rapidly at her princess’s words before furrowing her brows. She glanced toward the grand bedroom doors, where Y/N’s personal knight stood watch.

   “You know you can speak freely in the privacy of my chambers. Worry not.” Y/N reassured her, easily reading the maid’s doubt.

Anna sighed, shaking her head as she settled into the open chair. 

   “It’s the usual. The townspeople are quite upset with the royal family for not addressing the ongoing Fading Ill sickness spreading in the slums. They’re afraid it might reach them and have been trying to urge the King’s court to take action.” Her mood had visibly soured from the whispers and murmurs she’d heard from merchants and shopkeepers.

Y/N fell into her own deep thoughts, recalling the illness Anna had mentioned. 

Fading Ill. 

The Second Princess had first heard about it in Melgarde, when she had snuck out of the estate and into the town square. There, people had openly discussed the sickness that seemed to emerge from nowhere. They blamed the harsh winters, the slum dwellers. The poor, who couldn’t care for themselves, spread the disease. After returning to the capital, she had stumbled upon the kitchen maids gossiping about the sickness and the royal court’s apathy, too preoccupied with preparations for celebrations while their citizens suffered.

Y/N pondered whether there was a way for her to help. She had even tried to gather information about the Fading Ill, but nothing useful had surfaced. Eventually, her responsibilities caught up with her, and the whispers of the sickness began to dwindle down as well.

She had assumed her father had taken action, but now, hearing Anna’s recounting of the news, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. Burdened by the weight of this situation. Responsibilities that weren’t hers to address, to solve.

   “My lady, it’s time for you to apply your medicine.” Anna said with a final sigh, as if resolving to let go of the troubling news from town.

Y/N nodded and as she began to undress, her eyes suddenly lit up. An idea making her stare with wide eyes of enthusiasm at Anna. The young girl who had already understood what that look meant, was quick to settle her back into her seat.

   “Let us apply this salve first. Else you will dash out and forget about your own wounds.” She pointed, rushed fingers already undoing the ties of Y/N’s dress before the princess decided it could wait.

The Second Princess begrudgingly agreed, allowing for the young maid to tend to her.

Her eyes started in fascination, peering down to look at her healing wound as best as she could. It truly felt like magic. The wounded area was no longer tender, now dry, and the skin looked significantly improved from what she remembered that morning. The Nightshade were indeed masters of the healing arts.

The Nightshade Kingdom held the exact solution this ambitious second princess had been searching for.

──────────────────────── 

Ian had been seething. In anger, in embarrassment, that coursed through him. The smug expression of that Nightshade Prince flashed before his eyes, a reminder of his humiliation in the forest. After downing an entire bottle of liquor, the intense rage still simmered within him, refusing to ease. He had stumbled into the royal library, unsure how he had even arrived there, but it was silent and dark, allowing him to stew in his fury.

The hour was late, and Ian struggled to recall what had transpired after winning the hunting game. An achievement that should have filled him with elation and pride. Instead, all he could think about was Prince Christopher. His lies, the arrow that had grazed past him, and the mockery hidden in that smirk. The victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the humiliation he couldn’t shake off.

The library doors creaked open, a sliver of light spilling in from the brightly-lit corridors outside, before the darkness reclaimed the space as the doors closed.

   “I knew I would find you holed up here.” The Queen’s voice pierced through Ian’s inner turmoil, her commanding tone shattering the stillness of the dimly lit library.

   “No one besides that stupid bastard-girl frequents this place.” He muttered, taking another swig from his bottle of liquor.

The Queen Mother inhaled sharply, her eyes darting around the seemingly empty library. His words were true. This wing of the royal library was primarily visited by the second princess and the occasional curious guest. Yet it was here that her son sought refuge in the late hours every now and then, drawn to the lightly guarded doors that allowed him to drink himself into a mess.

   “What is bothering you so that you’re drinking here like a fool?” The Queen’s words were curt, her narrowed eyes fixed on her son with a mix of annoyance and concern.

A bolt of thunder crashed outside, illuminating the library for a brief moment through the grand floor-to ceiling windows. The tumultuous weather seemed to mirror Ian’s emotions that had been bubbling within him all evening.

   “That Nightshade Prince.” He spat, his words dripping with venom.

It was clear something had happened. The Queen Mother had heard that Prince Ian had won today’s hunt, but his current state made it evident that the victory meant little to him.

   “He thinks he’s all high and mighty for being a warrior. And those stupid nobles look at him with admiration that they try to mask in my presence. I just know it.” The Crown Prince spat, taking another swig from his bottle.

The Queen only observed him, the sound of rain pattering against the windows echoed loudly in the tense atmosphere of the library.

It seemed that Prince Ian was feeling insecure, that much she could tell. 

But Ian’s thoughts drifted back to this afternoon in the Grand Forest. While he had to stage a win, the Warrior Prince had effortlessly shot an arrow at him. 

Missing him on purpose. 

Something he couldn’t even voice out loud from embarrassment. It made him even angrier. 

   “They supposedly hold disdain for him and his kind, yet behind my back, I’m sure they compare us. What comparison is there to make with a barbarian?” Ian’s eyes shot up to meet his mother’s grim expression.

   “Who dares to compare?” The Queen’s tone had hardened, yet there was no answer to the question he had asked.

Perhaps she thought her son was indeed less than the Nightshade Prince, true in many ways.

It wouldn’t be surprising.

The Warrior Prince was the perfect example of a future ruler. He spoke when it mattered, fit into any situation, and had sharp observational skills. His impressive defense mechanisms only highlighted what the Elysium Prince lacked.

Ian scoffed at her counter question, at her lack of an answer, dropping his gaze to the wood of the table he was slumped over. His expression darkened as he slowly glanced back up to meet the Queen Mother’s gaze.

   “Mother, when do we get rid of him.”

The Queen inhaled deeply, glancing around the room once again, before settling her gaze on her hunched over son. 

   “Soon. You need not worry. Focus on your upcoming marriage.” Her reply was cold, cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

Another jolt of thunder and lightning ricocheted through the room.

In the shadows at the back of the seemingly empty library, behind the large bookcases, Princess Y/N stood frozen, hands pressed against her lips to muffle any sound. Her downcast eyes widened as she stared at the tiles that glimmered under the flashes of thunder. Her face drained of color, mind reeling as whatever she overheard sank in.

The Second Princess had always been an expert at slipping away, and had done just that earlier in the evening.

Anna had warned her it wasn’t a good idea, that she should listen to her mother this one time and settle in for the night to allow her shoulder to recover. But, of course, the steadfast princess had decided she wanted to do some research. Perhaps she could uncover details about the Fading Ill sickness in the Nightshade texts housed in the royal library. Though the collection was limited, Y/N knew exactly where to find them, recalling the few times she had pulled them from the shelves.

Anna had sighed but reluctantly agreed to help with the escapade. She too had been worried about the spreading disease, especially after what she had heard out in town. Except they wondered how she would sneak out.

But it turned out to be an easy task.

The young maid peered out into the hall and caught a glimpse of the young knight standing rigid at his post. Upon closer inspection, she realized he had fallen asleep.

It made sense.

Ever since he was assigned to guard the second princess, who had no real threats posed against her, he had stood alone all night, often dozing off while keeping watch over a forgotten princess. Every night he had stood guarding against nothing. And he had quickly became comfortable. He had even perfected the art of sleeping on duty, appearing to stand guard.

If Anna had caught him any other time, she would have berated him for daring to look away from the princess. But tonight, she could only roll her eyes, feeling slightly grateful that he felt safe enough to neglect his duties and fall asleep.

That was how Y/N found herself sneaking into the library, a single handheld candlestick in her grip, glancing back every once and then as she cut through the rose garden to arrive without being seen. The library was easy to access, the palace knights stationed in this wing, mostly lingered by the King’s study, briefly passing by the part of the library only Y/N frequented. It was why she enjoyed coming here, able to scour books for hours without disturbance.

Once behind the large bookcases at the back, she began raking through the titles on the shelves, pulling out a few that might be helpful, settling on the ground as she flipped pages.

The loud creak of the library doors jolted her from her studious trance. She quickly scurried to her feet, instinctively blowing out the candle that provided her light. Pressing her back against the bookshelf, she held her breath, grateful for the shadows that concealed her.

Prince Ian’s voice broke the silence, laced with curses, followed by the sounds of chairs and stools being knocked about before he settled atop a table. The hidden princess strained to catch his mutterings, but couldn’t quite grasp them, only hearing more curses and the sloshing of liquor in a bottle.

She expected to remain hidden for as long as Ian lamented whatever had driven him to drink, to come in here. She planned to sneak out once he finished his cursing, either leaving swiftly after him or after he drank himself to sleep.

But she didn’t expect to overhear such vile plans. The words made her heart hammer against her chest, her throat going dry.

The thunder continued to roar in the night sky, its echo jolting the hidden princess out of her trance.

Now there she stood, concealed, processing everything she had overheard in that brief moment between Prince Ian and the Queen Mother. The implied words that made her heart race and her breath quicken.

There were some more murmurs and words exchanged between the Queen and the Crown Prince, but Y/N was too preoccupied with her own worries. The fear of getting caught and the weight of their insinuations clouded her mind.

   “You shall endure it, and entertain him for just a little longer.” The Queen’s final words came out with authority, words her son begrudgingly accepted.

Y/N stiffened as she heard more loud shuffling, her head shooting toward the edge of the bookcase to peek out of the shadows. She caught a glimpse of Prince Ian’s back as he followed the Queen Mother out, before the library doors closed with an echoing thud.

The silence that followed was eerie. Y/N found that she had been holding her breath and finally exhaled, leaning against the large bookcase to steady herself. Her heart raced, her ears rang from the tension, and tears welled in her eyes.

What did he mean by “get rid of him?” 

His tone, his words, replayed in her mind.

Her thoughts darted back and forth, trying to decipher Ian’s vague words.

Surely he meant to send the Warrior Prince back, to rid Elysium of his presence and urge him to return to Nightshade.

Princess Y/N’s heart tried to comfort her. But her mind, the sharper part of her, the part that was always thinking, always curious, understood the implications of that conversation between the two royals.

Get rid of him.

Breach the peace agreement. Perhaps start a war.

Assassinate the Nightshade Crown Prince.

Kill her Chan.

Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth again as the realization hit her, her heart pounding in the heavy silence. She held back a sob, gripping her dress for support as she leaned against the bookcase. Her eyes darted toward the large doors that had just closed, emerging slowly from the darkness. She was trying to figure out what to do with the shocking information she had uncovered.

She had come to the library seeking a solution to a different problem, but now her mind reeled with the new mess she found herself in. The justice-driven princess couldn’t allow the Elysium royals to assassinate Prince Christopher simply because Ian felt inferior.

Teary-eyed, she glanced around the now eerie library before her gaze settled outside, watching the rain pour against the glass. Each flash of lightning illuminated the darkened room.

Y/N inhaled deeply, bracing herself. She had made her decision.

She couldn’t let them kill the man she loved.

But she didn’t know what to do. Her mind raced, her heart pounded. Anxiety gripped her as she hurried out of the library, glancing over her shoulder in the now-darkened corridors.

The Second Princess inhaled, backtracking to hide behind a column, catching sight of a flickering fire ahead. It was a patrol guard, making his rounds of this area before he headed back to the second floor where the King’s study was. Sure there was no reason for her to hide, she was a Princess and he was a guard on duty. Yet what frightened her the most was the whispers of her presence here tonight reaching the Queen’s ears. Putting her in the library, the place where the royals had discussed about the Nightshade Prince openly.

Princess Y/N had never stayed out this late. She had never let herself become so engrossed in her books that she lost track of time. Especially on a night like this, with rain pattering loudly against the windows.

She gulped, waiting for the guard’s footsteps to fade into silence. When the corridor was quiet again, illuminated only by a few flickering wall sconces, she moved cautiously forward.

Perhaps she should have listened to Anna, or even her mother, as the young maid had urged her to do. It was a part of her nature that often led her into trouble. Yet as she stepped into the outdoor corridors, the heavy rain drumming in her ears, she convinced herself eavesdropping had been worth it.

The shortcut through the garden was treacherous, especially on dreary nights like tonight. The rain-soaked mud squelched beneath her feet as she navigated through the dark foliage. The shadows seemed to envelop her, the storm masking the sounds of her hasty movements.

The Second Princess thought she was safe, hidden from the patrol guards off the main path. But then, a sudden presence loomed behind her. A masked man pressed against her, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her scream, the other gripping her waist, pulling her close.

Y/N’s wide, fearful eyes locked onto his. Even in the darkness, in this unforgiving downpour, she recognized that piercing gaze.

Chan’s gaze bore into hers.

Eyes darting over her before narrowing, as he took a quick glance in the direction she emerged from, to ensure no one was on her trail. He pulled down the fabric that masked the lower half of his face.

   “Princess…” His voice carried a hint of frustration, mixed with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

Realizing he still had her pressed against him, his hand resting on her back, he instinctively recoiled. Yet his eyes that held those unknown emotions stared down at her with a new intensity.

Y/N took in the sight of him, standing in the rain amidst the maze of tall bushes and shrubbery. Her eye raked over his all-black attire, the mask concealing his identity, soaked from head to toe. Suggesting he was out in the night with questionable intentions.

An enemy princess would have summoned the palace knights.

A capable princess would have accused him of treachery, questioning the Foreign Prince’s suspicious presence here, his motives.

A competent princess wouldn’t have been sneaking around in the first place.

Instead, Y/N’s face contorted, and she finally let out her cries that she tried her best to push back as she looked at him.

Looked at her childhood friend, the man she was enamored with.

The man whose life was in danger, a target of vile plans.

Chris’ eyes widened at her expression, at the tears streaming down her cheeks amidst her sobs. He watched as she pressed her hands over her eyes, shielding them from the rain. Confusion flickered in him for a moment, reaching out but instantly faltering. Her shivering form, her cries were enough to urge him to reach out, gripping her arms tightly.

   “Are you hurt? Did someone do something? Princess Y/N, tell me what happened!” He sounded frantic, eyes raking over her to ensure she wasn’t hurt, raking over her shoulder to check if the injury there left her in pain.

The Second Princess grasped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer into a hug that left the Warrior Prince stunned. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and amidst the sound of rain pouring all around them, he was certain she could hear it too.

But it wasn’t just her hug that made his heart clench, it was the sight of her crying in his arms that filled him with a sudden sense of helplessness.

Chris pulled back slightly, enough to gaze down at her tear-streaked face, drenched by both rain and sorrow. His hands cupped her jaw, his touch gentle and tender. Like the soft touches from the night before, when he had brushed his fingers against her wounded flesh.

The Warrior Prince didn’t question his actions, gazing down at Y/N with the gentlest expression he had ever worn. A twinge of desperation stirred within him as he tried to figure out what had driven her to run through the rain in this dark, like a wild thing, now crying in his arms.

Y/N locked her eyes onto his, letting them drift over his features. His furrowed brows, his parted lips. Slowly, her expression softened as she took in his warmth. She calmed, breaking free from the anxious thoughts that had plagued her, all thanks to his presence and the comfort of his touch. His grip was both gentle and firm, her eyes raking over at the raindrops clinging to the ends of his hair, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

   “You must leave Prince Christopher.” Her whispered words were enough to break his worrisome silence, eyebrows relaxing as he took in the sight of her hardened expression staring up at him.

Here stood the Second Princess of Elysium, the steadfast and stubborn princess who always managed to irk him. The vulnerable girl he had glimpsed was gone.

And here she was telling him to leave, yet her hands gripped tightly at his shirt. Clinging to him, pulling him closer.

Prince Christopher felt something snap. Something not in the world around them, but rather something within himself, had finally come undone.

His fingers, still cradling her jaw, drew her face nearer, diving in to meet her in the middle. His lips finally pressing against hers.

It was a kiss that felt achingly real.

A kiss that Y/N found herself falling into with ease, her hands tugging at him with a hint of desperation, yearning to kiss him deeper, to pull him closer, flush against her.

Chris felt himself drowning in her as well. Her arms, her lips, the kiss that left him breathless. The Warrior Prince pulled back just enough to glance over her closed eyes, gaze scouring over her serene expression. Her lips let out a shaky breath and the enemy prince found himself leaning in for a second kiss.

The thunder roared loudly in the dark sky. Yet, even such a loud sound was not enough to bring them back to reality.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @stayceebs97, @palindrome969, @tsunderelino, @solandiszale, @fixation-dump, @ellelabelle, @gaslasyttune, @qwonyoung23, @minh0scat, @candyquokka, @sellomaybe, @kat-unzel, @gujter, @aeri-skzver, @hefflez8 (please ask to be tagged if you intend on interacting!)

[natsaffection]

Kingdom of Secrets | Prologue | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 16 when she comes to the palace and the reader is 4 years old. At the end of this chapter Natasha is 33 and reader 21) fingering, begging, crying

word count: 4,5k

A/n: welcome to the prologue of Kingdom of Secrets! (Yes the title has a meaning) This is just the opening chapter. So it's not the first real part. It cost me already tears because I wanted it to come across the way people spoke back in the Middle Ages..so please give feedback!🫂

In the heart of the great kingdom of Celestria, where emerald fields stretch as far as the eye can see and spires kiss the sky, there was great anticipation in the royal court. King Alistair and Queen Seraphina Dawn, the beloved rulers of the realm, had long yearned for an heir to carry on the legacy of their noble lineage. The palace echoed with the whispers of courtiers as news spread of a momentous event.

Queen Seraphina was expecting a child.

Months passed, each one accompanied by prayers and whispered hopes echoing through the halls of the palace. The kingdom collectively held its breath, waiting for the joyous news that would bring new life to the royal family. The gardens adorned with blooming flowers bore witness to the ebb and flow of the seasons, reflecting the anticipation within the palace walls.

And then, as the golden colors of autumn tinged the landscape, the long-awaited moment arrived. Like a melody of hope, the announcement resounded through the kingdom and spread from town to town. Queen Seraphina had given birth to a daughter, a shining beacon of joy in the embrace of her parents' love.

The kingdom erupted in jubilation. Banners swayed in the fresh breeze, their colors dancing to the rhythm of the joy that flowed through the streets. The citizens rushed to the gates of the palace in their finest clothes to join in the royal rejoicing. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the distant sounds of musicians tuning their instruments heralded the great celebrations to come.

Inside the palace, the little princess lay in her mother's arms, wrapped in a tapestry of delicate silk. Queen Seraphina's eyes, glistening with tears of happiness, met King Alistair's gaze, a silent exchange that spoke volumes about the unspoken journey they had traveled to reach this blessed moment.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the palace gates opened to welcome the many well-wishers. The Great Hall, decorated with golden tapestries and crystal chandeliers, shone in the light of a thousand candles. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles, commoners and dignitaries alike joined in the celebration.

In the midst of this splendor, the little princess lay in her crib, surrounded by a symphony of admiration. Her tiny fingers, like rose petals, grasped at the air as if reaching for the love that surrounded her. The flickering candlelight painted her delicate features and cast a warm, ethereal glow on her.

Y/n, as she would later be called, became the beacon of hope that united the kingdom. Her laughter echoed through the palace like silver bells, eliciting smiles from all who basked in her innocent radiance. The court musicians, attuned to the heartbeat of the celebration, played melodies that blended with the collective heartbeat of the kingdom, a harmonious testament to the unity created by the birth of the princess.

Over the years, the princess's birthdays became a cherished tradition. The kingdom celebrated with greater fervor each year, turning the anniversary of her birth into a grand spectacle. The gardens, where once the whispers of anticipation could be heard, now bloomed in vibrant colors that reflected the princess's exuberant spirit.On her birthdays, the people of Celestria gathered to honor their beloved princess. The streets were lined with stalls selling sweet treats and enchanting trinkets. Musicians played lilting melodies and performers brought fairy tales to life through dance and theater. But amidst the splendor, it was Y/n herself who was in the spotlight.

Her laughter, the elixir that had breathed life into the kingdom years ago, echoed through the air. The joy that emanated from her was infectious and transformed the celebration into a mosaic of smiles and shared happiness. Y/n had become the living embodiment of the kingdom's dreams with her sparkling eyes and a heart full of kindness.

As Y/n grew, so did the kingdom around her. The once silent halls of the palace echoed with the footsteps of a vibrant princess whose spirit danced like the sunlight that fell through the leaves. She became a symbol of hope, bridging the realms of royalty and commonality - a beacon of unity for a kingdom that had waited with bated breath for her arrival.

And so, under the golden skies of Celestria, the royal court and citizens celebrated the birth of their princess, whose laughter echoed throughout the kingdom, mingling with the melodies of joy that had marked her grand entrance into the world.

But a shadowy group lurked in the hidden corridors beneath the splendor of the kingdom. Unseen and unheard, this gang shrouded in mystery plotted insidiously to infiltrate the royal house.

In the dimly lit chamber adorned with ancient symbols, the agents of the group - Shadows of Darkness - received a chilling instruction. The leaders, shrouded in the cloak of shadows, readjusted their strategy. Princess Y/n, an unforeseen variable, demanded an adjustment to their malevolent plans.

As Y/n's laughter rang through the palace, the group's secret game unfolded on an invisible chessboard. The birth of the princess upset their carefully laid plans and brought an element of unpredictability into play. Beneath the surface of the festivities, a calculated dance played out, where joyful echoes collided with the malice lurking in the shadows. Citizens and royalty revelled in blissful ignorance, unaware of the ominous threat lurking in the hidden corners of the palace. A dangerous dance began. One in which the laughter of a princess served as an eerie soundtrack to a covert operation that would reshape Celestria's destiny.

As daylight bathed the kingdom in golden hues, the shadowy group moved in secrecy. Their ominous influence extended to unsuspecting future queens. The dark puppet, manipulated by unseen hands, infiltrated the royal court and left a menacing presence.

The king, who had followers in every country, became aware of the terrifying power. Fearing for his family and the future of his country, he had his troops strengthened and also looked for a guardian for his daughter. So he spread the word throughout the country that a tournament was to be held in the late evening and that the bravest and strongest fighters were to take part.The anticipation of the great tournament was in the air that day. The king, seeking the perfect protector for his most precious treasure, gathered warriors from faraway lands. Men vying for the honor of protecting the jewel of the realm presented themselves in the arena.

The tournament, a spectacle of skill and courage, began with the clash of swords and the thundering hooves of warhorses. Knights from all corners of the realm showcased their skills, a dance of blades played out under the watchful eyes of the royal court.

As the dust settled and countless fighters succumbed to the skill of their opponents, there was a quiet tension among the spectators. The king, seated on his magnificent throne, surveyed the remaining warriors, his keen eyes searching for the one who would serve as a shield against the impending danger to the princess. Then, amidst the remaining fighters, a lone, young figure emerged, clad in armor that seemed to absorb the essence of the shadows. The air fell silent as this knight stepped forward, exuding an aura of fear and admiration. A murmur went through the audience, a collective acknowledgement that a formidable force had entered the arena.

The king, mesmerized and wary, leaned forward in his throne, a silent question etched on his regal countenance. "Tell me, what is a child doing on the field?" he asked his 1st in command. He bowed to his king, "Forgive me, my majesty, but you emphasized that the gates were open to anyone carrying a sword." The king forced the moment back into his mind and now looked further down, at the person.

At that very moment, the mysterious knight removed the helmet, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair framing a face marked by the scars of countless battles. Her piercing gaze, a mixture of steel and determination, met the king's eyes with an unwavering intensity. A murmur went through the hall as the realization set in. "Lady, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff," someone breathed, the name inspiring both awe and fear. As the first young woman to be knighted, Natasha was widely known, and her accomplishments on the battlefield were whispered about in saintly tones. The king, who also learned of her presence, widened his eyes.

As she approached the king, Natasha dropped to one knee, a sign of respect and submission. Her armor bore the marks of countless victories, and the sword at her side was a testament to her skill as a warrior.

"Your Majesty," Natasha's voice, a symphony of authority and humility, echoed through the arena. "I am Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, sworn to protect those deemed worthy of the Empire's protection. I offer my skills and loyalty to defend your princess, the jewel of Celestria." The king, observing the steely determination in Natasha's eyes, pondered her words. Isn't she too young to be a knight? Presently good..She could form a bond with Y/n. He thought.

The court remained in a collective breathless pause, awaiting the monarch's decision. After a moment's thought, the king nodded, a gesture that echoed through the arena like a decree.

"Lady Natasha Romanoff, rise. You have proven that you are an excellent Fighter. May the realm be witness to your service as my daughter's protector."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whispers in appreciation of the gravity of the moment. Natasha rose from her knees and hid her features behind her helmet again. With measured steps, she returned to the ranks of the assembled knights, her presence leaving an indelible impression on the tournament and setting the stage for a new chapter in the kingdom's saga. Since then, the unique bond between the young princess and the fearless knight began to grow. Y/n, a little bundle of joyful energy, zoomed through the flowerbeds. "Tasha, look, I can fly!" she cried, spreading her tiny arms. Natasha, with a smile on her lips, leaned down. "Really? Show me, little whirlwind." And chase her through the field.

"Tasha, why are you so strong?" asked Y/n three years later, while they were playing in the halls. Natasha, with a mischievous smile, replied, "Strength comes not only from muscles, but also from courage and determination, my Princess."

The royal parents, from their thrones, watched the scene with warm smiles. "Look how Natasha is teaching our daughter," said the queen. The king nodded proudly. "A bond strengthened not only by duty, but also by the heart..I could not have chosen anyone better."

In the shelter of the pavilion, Y/n and Natasha talked about the years of shared experiences. "Promise me, Natasha, that you will always be by my side," Natasha, serious yet tender, replied, "As long as I breathe, I will watch over you, Princess."

Over the years, not only did Y/n grow up, but so did the love between her and Natasha. Adventures together, laughter and tears formed a bond that blurred the boundaries between princess and protector.

At the age of 20, Y/n found herself in the midst of an inner turmoil. The years had passed since Natasha had taken up residence as her protector, and a subtle change was creeping into the princess's mind.

In the quiet moments when the sun slowly disappeared behind the palace walls, Y/n discovered a growing urge to seek Natasha's closeness. Every look from the knightess, every gentle touch, seemed to break through an invisible barrier within Y/n.

The glances Natasha cast across the ballroom as they shared in royal festivities carried a deeper meaning. Y/n recognized the warmth in Natasha's eyes, which came not only from her proximity to the king, but betrayed something more intimate. Uncertainty gnawed at Y/n as she thought about these growing feelings. Society, royal expectations, all created a veil that kept her growing affection for Natasha hidden.

The Royal Mother observed the subtle changes in Y/n's behavior, but the secret remained hidden between the lines. Y/n felt her heart beat faster when she faced Natasha, and the soft sighs that escaped her were carried on the winds of fate.

One day, Natasha, bathed in sweat from the rigorous training session, gracefully moved through the courtyard, effortlessly wrestling each knight that dared to cross her path to the ground. As Y/n strolled through the palace, she unexpectedly caught sight of Natasha in action, sans her usual formidable armor.

Mesmerized by the raw power and agility on display, Yn found it challenging to look away. Natasha's every move seemed like a choreographed dance of strength and finesse. It was the first time Y/n had seen her like this, vulnerable yet invincible

Natasha, engrossed in her sparring session, sensed Y/n's eyes on her. Mid-wrestle with one of the knights, she subtly shifted her gaze to meet Y/n's, exhaling almost imperceptibly. In that brief connection, Natasha's intense focus softened, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips, as if she had caught Y/n in the act.

Y/n, startled by Natasha's awareness, quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in the palace architecture. The blush on her cheeks, however, betrayed her attempt to conceal the intrigue Natasha's athleticism had sparked.

She continued her training, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/n, despite her efforts to remain discreet, stole occasional glances, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice..

When a maid approached, unaware of the silent exchange, Y/n stammered, "I-I was just, you know, walking around," as she tried to divert attention from the fact that Natasha had momentarily captured her focus. Natasha, still engaged in her training, shot Y/n a knowing look, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement, silently acknowledging the unspoken connection while respecting Y/n's attempt to keep her feelings concealed.

Several hours passed, and Y/n immersed herself in the demands of royal duties. As she diligently attended to matters within the palace, she couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's training session. Much to her surprise, as she returned to the main hall, there was Natasha, seamlessly transitioning from warrior to protector, resuming her role by Y/n's side.

Their eyes met once again, and this time Natasha's expression spoke volumes. A playful glint in her eyes suggested a shared secret, referencing the earlier stolen glances. Y/n couldn't help but smile in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection they had formed.

Weeks later when the moon towered over Celestria, Y/n dared a tentative look into Natasha's eyes. It was as if the universe melded their souls together, and in that moment, Y/n knew it was more than mere reverence for the brave knight. The realization that her heart was following a path of love was like the blossoming of a delicate flower within her. But the world she lived in demanded secrecy - a love that blossomed in the shadow of royal duties.

Another year passed and Y/n's duties to the throne drew ever closer. Her parents now saw her as an adult woman who would later rule the people. However, this could not be done alone and the time had come to find a suitable mate. So they embarked on various journeys to neighboring countries to consider their princes and princesses. A point Y/n is proud to show. With all the fuss she secretly has about Natasha, her eyes opened to another part.

It was a sunny day when the royal family were visiting another kingdom. The family was welcomed with joy. But the festive atmosphere was pervaded by an underlying tension. As Y/n strode through the hall in royal garb, she was swarmed by the polite remarks and advances of the foreign prince. The looks he gave her were full of obvious interest, and the smile on his lips betrayed intentions that went beyond polite courtesies.

Natasha, standing in her imposing armor alongside the royal family, felt a flame of jealousy flare up inside her. Every passionate look, every touched hand, felt like a stab in her chest. In a quiet moment, when the prince engaged Y/n in a private conversation, Natasha could hardly bear the sight. Her hands clenched into fists as she inwardly fought back the burning sting of jealousy.

Finally, the festive gathering broke up and the royal family returned to their chambers. The opulent chambers of Y/n awoke to the pale glow of candles as the evening shrouded the royal estate in an atmosphere of twilight. The prince, wearing a polite facade, had made his intentions clear. But Natasha sensed the unease in the air. When the prince attempted to cross the boundaries of politeness and seek out Y/n in her chambers, Natasha turned cold as ice. Her eyes, normally as impenetrable as the darkness, bore into the young nobleman. Without a word, her gaze spoke volumes, and the prince retreated as if he had entered an invisible barrier.

When Natasha entered Y/n's chamber, the discomfort was reflected on Y/n's face. "Thank you.. I was so uncomfortable, but I didn't mean to be rude," Y/n murmured, her voice low in the intimate atmosphere. Natasha stepped closer, her touch cooler than the night breeze blowing through the open window. "My princess, you never have to compromise for politeness."

In a calculated move that blurred the line between protector and seductress, Natasha lifted Y/n's hand and stroked her fingertips over the delicate skin. "Don't let anyone enter your world if you don't want them to. You deserve respect and so much more."

The darkness of the room seemed to tighten around the two of them as Natasha continued, intensifying her own touch. "And maybe, there is someone..who is willing to go deeper than politeness allows."

The words echoed between the walls as the coolness of the night turned into a dance of desire. Y/n sensed the play of shadows as Natasha, took on the role of seductress. A passionate revelation that in the twilight of her chambers revealed a connection that transcended the duties of the royal hall.

The room lost its dimensions in darkness as Natasha and Y/n were caught in a mesmerizing dance of tension. Y/n's heartbeat quickened as Natasha's words sounded like a breath in the night, a promise that implied more than it stated. "Natasha, I don't know what you mean..." whispered Y/n, her voice caught between curiosity and an underlying desire that lingered in the air. Natasha stepped closer, her gaze like the dark veil of night that hid everything and yet revealed everything. "I speak of desire that goes deeper than any protocol that exists within the walls of a palace."

The atmosphere thickened as Natasha began to loosen Y/n's royal robes with deft fingers. "You can feel it, can't you? This suppressed energy between us. It's time to explore the shadows that lurk in the corners of our connection."

Y/n's breathing quickened as the warmth of Natasha's hands touched her skin. A mixture of fear and desire flickered in her eyes as she embraced the unknown.

"N-Natasha, I... Is this right?" asked Y/n, but her reticence was swallowed up by the darkness.

Natasha replied with a cool smile that betrayed a deep, hidden passion. "Right or wrong, Y/n, does not exist in this world of shadows. There is only what you desire and what you are willing to experience." The air between them was charged as Natasha gently placed her lips on Y/n's. A passionate kiss that burned down the blurred lines between duty and desire. Still, Natasha paused for a moment and looked her princess in the eye, “I notice your looks, your breath when I sneak up on you..you’re begging when I retreat to my chambers..” Natasha pushed the princess onto the bed. The redhead had Y/n's legs wide open. Open for her to devour.

Natasha licked her lips, staring at Y/n's underwear, a hungry look in her mouth. Y/n still felt the slight urge to protest. What is she doing here? What happens if her parents find out about this? Are they allowed-

But all words of resistance melted into a moan in her mouth as Natasha opened her entrance with her tongue. She lay down in front of Y/n, lifting the princess's legs by her thighs onto her shoulders. Natasha's tongue turned her princess's moans into groans and then shouts of ecstasy. After tasting Y/n for long enough, Natasha lifted her head. Her mouth was covered in Y/n's fluid, giving her face a glow that Y/n found simply intoxicating.

"How are you feeling? Can I continue?" Natasha's eyes widened as she saw the sight of her ruler. Spread wide and with her hands clenched in the pillows, "K-Keep going please..” Natasha smiled and climbed up to Y/n to take off her dress and while she undressed Y/n, Natasha kissed Y/n and she tasted herself on her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha inserted two of her fingers into Y/n. In response, the young princess let out a deep moan into Natasha's mouth as she slowly penetrated her. As Natasha alternated between driving her index and middle fingers in and out of Y/n's cavity, Y/n was disturbed by the amount of armor Natasha still had on and set about removing it.

Natasha smirked again as she realized what Y/n's plans were and sat back up, "You could have asked, my highness..." Y/n's eyes were wide as she watched Natasha remove every single piece of metal from her body. Eventually it just tinkled on the floor and Natasha stood before her in a white shirt. She wasted no more time and pounced on the young girl again.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" Natasha now asked, breathing in unison with her aroused ruler. She had already slipped a hand between Y/n's thighs and was leaning on her shorts. Y/n knew what Natasha wanted to hear. "Please.." she begged, "fuck me." Natasha watched Y/n's flushed face. It was so, so lewd. This time, however, Natasha stroked a finger over the edge of her labia and felt how far the wetness had spread.

"You really want it, don't you?" said Natasha with a hint of smugness in her voice. Y/n knew it wasn't to humiliate her, but rather to increase her sense of exposure.

Yes, I really fucking want it, Y/n wanted to say, but managed to hold back. Natasha, however, didn't miss the look on her face before she leaned in and slowly kissed Y/n again. She began to run her fingers up and down the wetness between Y/n's legs, stroking slowly and rhythmically.

Y/n held back any sound that wanted to come out of her mouth, knowing there was more to come. A touch slipped past a certain spot so briefly and lightly that Y/n's body flinched in response. Natasha had to keep her senses together, just a little longer. The stroking and kissing gradually became faster, without either of them noticing against the backdrop of their growing arousal. Natasha's fingers were touching Y/n's clit more and more frequently now, and Y/n couldn't keep up, the tension between her legs growing and her mouth remaining slightly open.

"A-A-hh..." she gasped, and her body arched back more and more. She was crying out now, twisting and turning, her clit at the center of the movement, her hands wrapped around Y/ns, her face pressed into her shoulders, her upper body arched so that her breasts and erect nipples moved against Natasha's body in the same rhythm as the caresses between her thighs. "Nat-..Natasha...!" She cried out. "I'm... ah, I'm..."

Natasha kissed her neck in response and concentrated fully on bringing Y/n to climax. She wanted to hear her princess scream, to feel her thrusting against her body in a frenzy of pleasure. She wanted Y/n to lose all inhibitions and move against her hand like a horny slut. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Her hips and buttocks began to move against Natasha, thrusting towards her with desire, begging her not to stop. It felt so dirty to cooperate and beg so earnestly, but Y/n didn't care about any of it. Natasha moaned along with Y/n and couldn't hold back either after listening to Y/n feel this way about her.

“Cum for me.”

When Y/n heard Natasha's soft and loving voice moaning like that, she shook with pleasure. Her mind went blank. The room disappeared, the bed vanished. The world consisted only of her body, which contracted and pulsated to release all its pent-up arousal in one go. Y/n didn't know how much time had passed while she trembled and shook and moaned, even though she didn't want to. All she knew was that Natasha had been holding her the whole time and watched every single facial feature of her beloved princess.

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TAGLIST: @taliiiaasteria @natty-taffy @natashaswife4125 @lifebyinez @aemilia19 @natwifesblog @clearcoloredlenses @ragoshmog @eringranola

[misguidedasgardian]

House of the Dragon Masterlist

For now all the stories are several male characters with a Targaryen!reader

😈 dark fic

🔥 smut

😈🔥= noncon/dubcon

💀 = death

☠️ = angst

💞 = fluff

Harwin Strong

Stories

The White Dragon 🔥💀💞 COMPLETED

You are Rhaenyra's younger sister, after you are forced to marry her lover Harwin Strong, you manage your new life as a part of court, while trying to keep your family together despite everyone trying to destroy the House of the Dragon from within

Cregan Stark

Stories

The Winter Sun 🔥☠️💞 COMPLETED

You became an orphan, niece to the King, you soon find yourself living in the Red Keep, and surrounded with more vipers than dragons. So he betrothed you to a recently widowed Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

And you found yourself more willing to be surrounded by wolves than by vipers. Because you were known as the little sunshine of the Red Keep, always shinning light in everything you touch, and the cold heart of Cregan Stark won't be any different.

The sun always shines, even in the coldest of winters.

I need to... 💞☠️🔥

You never expected your highschool sweetheart, the man you were certain you were going to marry, the perfect man, Aemond Targaryen, would cheat on you with your plastic arts teacher. Deciding to take a step back and change colleges, you end up where you wanted to first get to... Winterfell University, where your life takes a huge turn for the better, new friends, new classes, and specially, a new love. Now your needs go first, and first, you need to calm down

The Hour of the Wolf 🔥💀 ☠️

"The war is over, King Aegon the Usurper is dead but also is Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, now the Kingdom submerges in chaos and uncertainty about who will be the next Targaryen who will sit the iron Throne. All eyes turn to the two survivors, Aegon the young and her older sister. In the midst of chaos, the wolf Cregan Stark takes command to bring justice to his late Queen, and help to put back together the pieces of what was the greatest dynasty this Kingdoms had ever seen, he never realized he was the one who was going to put together the young new Queen as well"

One-shots

The price of war 😈🔥 part 2

Your family sends you to Winterfell to try and gain Cregan Stark's alligiance, but he didn't take very well the fact that you'd think he would betray his Queen, so he decides to take you anyways

Aemond Targaryen

Stories

The Dragon's Mistress 😈🔥☠️ COMPLETED

You were the last remaining child of Rhaenyra Targaryen, hold up in Dragonstone, the Greens, more, precisely, Aemond Targaryen has come for you... to bend the knee and submit yourself to him

Storm's End 😈🔥☠️ COMPLETED

part 2 part 3 part 4 Part 5

Ending I. Ending II

Your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

I want to steal the bride 💕 COMPLETED

(Aemond x reader x Cregan)

Aemond and you met in college when he tried to get in your panties, now ten years later you have been best friends.

When your job takes you North, Aemond realizes you are the one for him and wants to tell you when you come back, the problem is, you come back engaged to Cregan Stark 

The wedding is coming incredibly fast and with Aemond appointed as your maid of honor, the problem is… he wants to steal the bride

Aemond x Helaena x Sister!reader

Story

Desire and Duty 🔥💞

After the war, your family completely decimated, Aemond does his duty, but also his desire, when he takes Helaena, and you, his little sister, as his wives. You go willingly, as you and Helaena already had found... comfort... in eachohehr

Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Stories

Blurred Lines 🔥☠️💞😈 COMPLETED

You had been married to Harwin Strong for four years, you had a beautiful daughter together, you stayed home, took care of his child, of him, the house and his sons form his first marriage every other week, but that wasn't enough

He cheated on you, so you kicked him out of the house.

You would have never guessed that Jacaerys, Harwin's eldest child, was not going to leave your life, as this is exactly wht he was expecting you to make you his, finally

Jacaerys Velaryon x Alicent

Oneshot

A little payback 🔥 COMPLETED

Jacaerys that his family and him are constantly belittled and bullied by the self-frightous Queen Alicent, he has to put her in her place, and that place is under him

Gladiators AU

Gladiators : Harwin x Reader, Cregan x Reader, Aemond x Reader, Aegon x Reader, Daemon x Reader

The Andals came from Essos and conquered five of the seven kingdoms, and founded The Great Republic of the Andals and has them under its yolk, they took every tribe, culture and town that oppose them and subdued it, they took their men, and their women, and slaved them, only the greatest, strongest, better men, became gladiators under the sun of the mighty Republic

[ivyodessa]

@hellcheeranniversaryweek Day 4- Medieval

Tristan & Isolde AU

The willows swayed above them as the sweat cooled on their bare skin, the breeze caressing their bodies like an invisible lover.

“I wish we could stay here forever.” Christine said, her soft voice breaking the quiet that had settled over them after their lovemaking.

“I could build us a little house deep in the forest,” Edward said with an easy smile, “I could fish from the stream. Live like no one knows who we are.”

“I could spend my days reading to you,” she smiled at him sweetly.

The mirth in his eyes dimmed before he asked haltingly, “When do you have to be back?”

Her smile faded as she answered quietly, “Soon. I told Bragnae I would be back by midday.” Her lady’s maid would be able to hold off suspicion if she were a little late, but not too much.

“I suppose we should cross the bridge then, your Grace,” he said it in jest, but it still stung. The reminder that he was her subject, and more importantly, the king’s wife.

She watched him as he stood to dress himself, admiring the lines of his strong body littered with scars. The shiny skin of the largest scar sat on his chest, healed by her hands the day he washed up on the beach all those months ago.

But they were in Cornwall now, far from the place they first met. Far from the private refuge of their seaside cabin where she nursed him back to health and they opened their hearts to one another.

She cleared her throat as she lifted her shift over her head, “Maybe….maybe there is a way,” she said tentatively. He turned to her as he pulled his shirt over his head and the intensity of his stare momentarily left her breathless.

“My father’s men talk. I know they plan to conspire with the dissenters at court to overthrow Henry.”

Edward’s eyes widened and his brows lifted, the information bowling him over, ““He…he is my king.” He struggled with what to say next, “He saved me from death, I owe him my life.”

“And he is my husband,” she took a deep breath before continuing, “But every day his rule grows crueler. He will stop at nothing to expand his kingdom.” She reached out to grab his hand, “He has never been unkind to us, but I worry the day may come when we meet his wrath.”

Edward’s face morphed into a pained expression, nodding solemnly at the truth spoken so plainly aloud. Henry’s mind had become warped and his sanity seemed to be hanging on by a thread, much like Edward’s loyalty to his king.

“In the midst of all the chaos, we could slip away. Go wherever we please,” she looked up at him, eyes shining brightly with the spark of hope and promise of freedom.

The thought of never again having to hide away in stolen moments, to be with each other out in the open…it was at once exhilarating and terrifying. Was there truly a chance for them to be free?

She reached her hands up to gently cup his face as he bent down until their foreheads touched, staring into one another’s eyes.

“How many have you loved before me?” she whispered into the stillness between them.

“None,” he said back simply, hands resting on her hips. The heat of his hands through her thin shift igniting the spark within her hot enough to set a kingdom ablaze.

“And after me?” she asked, her voice taking on a desperate edge.

His voice was all warmth as he smiled and said “None.” One of his hands coming up to cup her jaw and pull her into a gentle kiss.

“For all time, they’ll say it was our love that allowed a kingdom to be brought down,” he said solemnly. She frowned and nodded as her thumbs gently stroked his jaw before he spoke again,

“Well then…let them remember us."

He pulled her to him with the arm now wrapped around her waist and crushed his mouth to hers. Sealing their fate, and the fates of many, with a kiss.

[smirkingkitten]

Reading list November 2023

It's December and that doesn't just mean the Christmas season starts and it's the time for cozy evenings with candles, blankets and a hot chocolate, but also: it's time for another reading list.

It feels like it's been so long since Loki graced us with a new episode every week. I'm still not quite over the ending, although this interview did heal my poor heart a little, if only just a bit. I hope you're coping well with the ending. And now, happy reading.

✨And don't forget to reblog the storys you read to support all these lovely writers.✨

My other Reading lists can be found in my Fanfiction Bookshelf.

Series | Collections | Multi Parts

The Redbridge Hunts @fanficshiddles

8 Chapters (on going) | Vampire!Loki | fluff

prev. | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8

Summary: Claire moves to Demsdale to take up a new job as an assistant teacher for one Loki Laufeyson. She's also very intrigued with all of the rumours within the borough of Redbridge. However, as she starts to fall for Loki's charm and good looks, she also learns that all of the rumours might not just be rumours after all.

Double Cross @gigglingtiggerv2

12 chapters (on going) | Jaguar Villain!Tom | dark, smut

Summary: In Dante’s inferno, the Eighth Circle of Hell was reserved for liars, panderers, thieves and murderers.  For the criminal underworld it is an opulent London club, representing neutral territory where deals can be made, grievances aired and scores settled.

For the owner, Thomas Cross, it is his own private kingdom, one where he makes the rules and wields absolute authority. Recently, however, that authority has come under threat.  In order to maintain his standing and the Club’s ruthless reputation, it is imperative he find the perpetrator.

In this violent place, where lies are currency and everyone has their own agenda, who can he trust? Certainly not Verity Williams, the talented thief who has her own reasons for infiltrating his organisation. 

Neither can deny the sparks that fly whenever they’re together, but if he’s not careful, will those sparks burn down everything he’s created?

Déchiré @ijuststareatstuffhereok89

7 chapters (on going) | Loki, Bucky, Captain America | smut

You are a HYDRA agent sent to infiltrate the notorious Avengers, to tear them apart in the worst way possible in order to make them vulnerable to attack. In the midst of the wild heat you generate, three suitors take your bait.

One Shots

Firestarter @delaber

4,2k | AvengersMovie!Loki | smut, hatefucking

Rule Number One @just-the-hiddles

medium | Jonathan Pine | smut, dom/sub, daddy, spanking

Gorgeous @ghostofskywalker

1,2k | Avenger!Loki | fluff

Heavy Petting @wheredafandomat

800 | Loki | smut

I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch @wheredafandomat

short | Loki | smut, oral (f reserving)

Aftercare @sarahscribbles

680 | Loki | fluff, spicy

If I was your best friend @wheredafandomat

medium | Loki | smut

Worshiped by a God @sarahscribbles

1,1k | Loki | fluff, smut

Best of Friends @just-the-hiddles

long | Actor!Tom Hiddleston | fluff, friends to lovers

Duty of Care @muddyorbsblr

1,9k | Jonathan Pine | smut, fluff

Winter Warmers: A Winters Night on Asgard @lokischambermaid

930 | Asgard!Loki | fluff

The Sandwich Incident @holdmytesseract

1,2k | Tom Hiddleston | fluff, humour

My Girl @lokisgoodgirl

1,8k | Avenger!Loki | smut, man-bun

Lactation @viviluvssmut

1k | Loki | smut, oral (f reserving)

Drabbles

Don't Move, Darling @sarahscribbles

1,1k | Loki | smut, teasing, edging

Time slipping @wheredafandomat

600 | TVA Loki | smut, hurt/comfort

praise kink, gagging, hickies @ragnarachael

short | Jonathan Pine | smut, daddy kink

Headcanons

Loki and the Watcher @benevolentgodloki

✨Happy reading 😊✨

Back to my Fanfiction Bookshelf

Many of the fanfictions are 18+, so if you're under 18, don't read them.

[jadedwoman]

(dubc0n, body modification, scales)

As you awake to a brilliant summer morning, the day seems as normal as any other day, grabbing your belongings and swiftly heading out the door of your home, ready to head into the kingdoms capital in hopes of a new job. Along the walk, you can't help but notice something seeming to follow you out of the corner of your eye, a purplish liquidy silhouette following your every move.

Deciding to ignore it, you finally reach the city, the boisterous sounds and plentiful citizens almost overwhelming you. In the midst of all the hustle and hustle, a golden, shining piece of metal catches your eyes. Instinctively following with your eyes to see what it is, you realize it looks to be a necklace, shining so lustrous you're sure you could get a pretty penny for it, and it's practically dangling from the person's pocket.

As you choose to take the risk, you follow the person for a few minutes, waiting until they stop to check out a nearby shop to sneak up behind them and grab the item, hoping that maybe with this, you could afford to not have a job a little longer. But despite your perceived luck, your stomach drops as you look again at the person, their skin seeming less...solid than before, turning almost a purplish hue, becoming liquidy. And just as you realize, it's exactly the same figure you saw on your walk in, you find yourself in an unfamiliar place.

Looking around you, there's only darkness, as you begin to worry you've been take somewhere far far away. But as you finish your search, you see a small slit of light far away, revealing you to be deep in an alleyway. As you prepare to simply walk out, you watch as liquid on the ground bubbles up and out pops me once more, a small smirk on my face as I look at you. "well well, something thought they could get away stealing from me hm?~ that's no good, no good at all! No matter, I know just the thing to remedy this~"

And before you can squeak out an apology, the necklace is taken and placed right around your neck, a deep pulse of warmth hitting your body at once as you feel something begin to happen. Your body slowly starts squishing and compressing down, lowering you to a cute 4' or so, the tingling of your skin making clear much more is waiting. After another second, you watch as scales seem to magically form all over your skin, a light red pattern turning into a more beige color when it reaches your chest and and palms.

Next you feel two cute fangs of sorts pop out from your mouth, your jaw stretching until it's more of a snout. Despite how it should feel, the transformation ends up calm, almost pleasurable, that heat making you start aching down below as you realize it's finally seemed to stop. With your new form already locked in, you finally start the panic you had been about to do for minutes by this point.

As I watch you freak out and worry, I seem to decide to take 'pity' on you, my tentacles creeping along your body, coating your scales in slippery aphrodisiac before pumping right into your ears. With a few twists and squeezes, you feel as your thoughts seem to change, not quite matching what you planned, instead of panicking you seem almost to be enjoying it, enjoying my blessing, my gift.

Of course you'd enjoy it, why, your goddess was kind enough to give you this lovely form after all, it's only natural to want to thank her. And you know just what to do, you stole from her ages ago and she was kind enough to forgive, so now you quickly decide you should steal something for her instead! And, with a soft pat on the head, I send you, my cute kobold servant, to go get me all the shinies and treasures you can~

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 25/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 26

An instrument of Heaven.

------------------------------------------

While Michael was busy fending off Lute, Lucifer seized the opportunity to rush to his daughter, hoping to heal her injury. However, Lute was hellbent on preventing that.

As the exorcist's relentless attacks kept his brother occupied, Lute suddenly unleashed an unholy screech that reverberated across the battlefield. The infected soldiers in her army stiffened and then lunged at one sole target: Lucifer.

He cursed under his breath as more and more angels tried to overwhelm him, their previous opponent forgotten. At that moment, he was the only one they were gunning for. Had this been Lute’s goal all along? Or was it driven by her memory of Adam’s death? Speaking of Adam, where the hell was he?

In the midst of the chaos, Lucifer caught sight of Charlie making her way over to him, his daughter's desperate voice cutting through.

Charlie: Dad!

Lucifer: Stay back, Charlie!

From the corner of his eye, he saw Vaggie fighting her way through the fray.

Vaggie: Sir!

Lucifer: Find Adam!

He didn't hear Vaggie’s response but hoped she understood enough to act without hesitation. Meanwhile, he faced the onslaught of infected soldiers, his mind racing. He couldn't afford to lose focus now.

Lucifer drew Lightbringer, its blade glinting ominously under the blood-red sky. He moved with lethal grace, cutting down the attackers with precision. But for every soldier he killed, two more seemed to take their place.

Michael, still engaged in a fierce duel with Lute, noticed Lucifer's predicament. He wanted to help but couldn't break away without stopping Lute first. She is more of a threat than any corpses.

Lute's eyes glinted with deranged satisfaction as she saw Lucifer struggling.

In the midst of the chaos, an angel managed to slip past Lucifer's defenses, lunging straight for his face.

The bite never came. Instead, the creature was impaled by a familiar trident—the one he had forged from his own angelic blood, the one for which the Sins had collected gemstones from the darkest corners of each Ring, the one he had gifted to—

Lucifer: Charlie!

Charlie spun the creature around and hurled it into the oncoming horde of angels, knocking several of them over. She turned to her father, giving him a sweet smile despite the blood dripping down her face.

Charlie: Can’t let you have all the fun, Dad.

Her voice is light but fierce. Lucifer felt a surge of pride and relief seeing Charlie by his side.

Lucifer: Alright. Stay close.

He instructed, voice a mix of concern and admiration.

As father and daughter fought together, their movements synchronized. Lucifer's sword and Charlie's trident cut through the waves of enemies. The battlefield was a blur of motion, but within the chaos, they found a rhythm.

So, against all odds. He prayed.

'Our Father, who art in Heaven,'

Explosions and the deafening roar of gunfire filled the air, sending more angels crashing to the ground around them.

'Hallowed be Thy name.'

Soon enough, the father and daughter duo were no longer surrounded by enemies, but by their friends. No, their family.

'Thy kingdom come'

Angel: Princess is right, shorty. Leave some for da rest of us!

Angel Dust called out, a mischievous grin on his face. Cherri Bomb cheered by his side, launching another explosive at the angels.

Cherri: Fuck yeah!

Nifty: STAB!

Husk: I ain’t tired yet.

'Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven'

These sinners were making Lucifer eat his words. All his life, he had resented them, but now they fought beside him with unwavering loyalty and courage.

'Give us this day our daily bread'

Alastor, the Radio Demon, Lucifer's someone, appeared before him, grin as unsettling as ever.

Alastor: Do not count us out yet, my dear.

Explosions and the clash of weapons filled the air again as Lucifer and his family fought with all they got. Vaggie took to the skies and kills angels before they even reach the ground. Angel Dust's guns blazed, mowing down waves of enemies. Cherri Bomb's explosives sent shockwaves through Pride, allowing them to not be overwhelmed. Nifty darted from angel to angel, stabbing every single one while Husk took out his dice bombs and angelic coated cards. Alastor's eerie laughter echoed as his dark magic wreaked havoc on their foes.

Then there's Charlie, who Lucifer can tell is nearly tapping into her full potential. As the sole Nephalem in existence, even he doesn't know the extent of her abilities.

It's just like Lilith said.

A small part of Lucifer dreamt of Lilith coming back, of her being the one with him during his final moments. After all, he had been there for her beginning, so he couldn’t be blamed for wishing she would be there for his end.

He wonders if she’ll come if he calls.

'And forgive us our trespasses'

Charlie might.

She’s here now! That’s got to count for something, right?

But you lie to her. She doesn’t know you’re dying today. If she knew, do you think she won’t hate you?

Lucifer couldn't tell if the voice he was hearing was his own or Roo's. They kept blending into one another, and he couldn’t keep track of where she started and he ended anymore.

It seemed like the closer he came to death, the more of himself he lost along the way.

'As we forgive those who trespass against us'

Forgiveness after forgiveness. Do you think she could handle one more lie from you?

'And lead us not into temptation'

Lucifer was distracted, so he didn't see Michael take a nasty blow from the corrupted Lute. He didn't see his brother's sword fly out of his hand and land on Hell's soil. He didn't see Lute fly and make a grab for it. He didn't see Michael and Uriel scramble to get to it first. He didn't hear them call out for him. He didn't see Lute hold Michael's sword in his direction. He didn't see her head straight for him one more time. He didn't see Alastor lose his smile. He didn't see the others get thrown back by Lute's power.

He only hears Charlie call for him before-

'But deliver us from evil'

A single laugh.

Roo: My turn~?

'Amen.'

------------------------------------------

Now now everyone, calm down. There's atleast 2 more updates after this.

Just some more inner monologue from Luci with a glimpse of what just happened, then a chapter that will tease the 3rd and (maybe) final part of the AU series

Also the only time I "prayed" and it's in a Lucifer au hmmm

[beautifulsnake2162020]

We have it all (Hualian adopted daughter fanfic) Chapter 5

I used Fengqing Gifs because they are the ones fighting the enemies in the opening scene. Both gifs are by @linglynz

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I only do this for fun.

Premise: Not long after comforting a bullied girl named Meng Ai, Hua Cheng and Xie Lian find themselves adopting her and together they form a family they didn't know they had needed for awhile.

Story/Genre tags: Slice of life-ish (mainly), Family focused, Hua Cheng's houses finally become homes, there may be an overarching story but that's not the focus, Hualian being parents, Fengqing being uncles, Lang Qianqiu falling in love with someone who was raised by the Xianle squad, technically post-canon (though I haven't read the books so if there are some ooc moments please forgive me).

AO3 Link

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Follower tags: @anonimgato1507

AN: I did my best but I will be the first to admit that I'm not good at writing fight scenes. Having said that, I wanted to give Fengqing their flowers and hopefully show why they are given the position of generals (and Meng Ai's uncles). Hope you enjoy 😅😂

Chapter 5

The Jiangshi were among the first wave that made their way to the shrine. These weren't the typical Jiangshi that regular Taoist priests would animate for proper burial. These Jiangshi were puppets for the magicians who were controlling them. The fortunate thing about these puppets was that once they were slain and their ashes were burnt they were finished.

Then the next wave were demon dogs accompanied by malicious spirits who came into their area in the form of arrows. Arrows that were shot by mortal archers and the dark spirits emerged and rapidly multiplied in their midst.

"Make a circle of holy fire around the shrine!" Mu Qing shouts at Feng Xin as they quickly make a larger circumference around the barrier of protection. The fortunate thing was that these creatures stood no chance against the Holy fire they made and even then they had some of their best soldiers standing by in between the barrier and the fire.

Then another wave of Jiangshi came with large Xiangliu spitting venom everywhere and poisoning the soil. This time the Jiangshi were a mix of puppets and Jiangshi who were their own being. The puppets walked, the ones who weren't were hopping.

"We'll need to find the mages causing this!" Feng Xin says after slaying a hopping Jiangshi and blasting it with fire.

"What do you think I've been doing?!" Mu Qing replies as he blasts another Xiangliu away and scorches the area its venom had touched to mitigate its effects. Feng Xin uses his momentum to quickly get his arrows. Mu Qing quickly throws a flame on the arrowhead and Feng Xin shoots at the Xiangliu, just beneath it's nine heads. Nine voices screamed out in agony and it fell.

"One down!"

"Of many. Mortals are starting to join in." Mu Qing says as some of his soldiers managed to remove the cloaks of some of them.

"Stop this now!" One of Mu Qing's soldiers commanded.

"We don't answer to your king, we answer to gold!"

"Mercenaries"

"That explains everything."

Fu Dao was one of the wealthier kingdoms because of their position in the trade route. Soldiers bearing Fu Dao's crest would cause a scandal if they were found. But employing mercenaries had the added benefit of deniability if they were ever caught.

"Stay away from this fight and we'll give you gold."

"We've already been adequately paid!" Mu Qing easily blocks and deflects an attack.

"Everyone, don't kill the mortals but protect the Priestess and her child."

Feng Xin sends a mass telepathic message to all their soldiers who begin rounding up the mortals who have begun joining in the fight.

A swarm of arrows and poisoned needles came and everyone put up magical barriers to shield themselves.

The fight went on and little by little they were making progress as their soldiers manage to put magical shackles on the mage mercenaries and that lessened the presence of demonic creatures in the fight.

However one of the mortal mages managed to get past the fire.

Because he was cloaked in a protection spell.

No. They both thought.

Mu Qing and Feng Xin immediately teleported themselves in the temple grounds.

Their soldiers were dealing with the mortal mage.

Who was serving as a distraction.

Assassins cloaked in a similar protection spell soon came inside the barrier.

"Get in!" Feng Xin commands his soldiers as they begin fighting the mortals who have begun entering.

"I'll take them to Jingdezhen."

"Go, I'll follow."

Mu Qing enters the living quarters in the nick of time as he sees a poisoned needle begin to enter inside. He immediately stops it and puts magic shields on all possible openings in the living quarters.

"What's going on?"

"Get Meng Ai, we're going to Jingdezhen." He immediately slams the door shut as another poisoned needle flew inside. He quickly makes a teleportation portal as Jing Mei wears her satchel and carries a sleeping Meng Ai. Once it was completed he opens the portal and they find themselves just outside of Xiwangmu's temple.

"Oh thank goodness." Jing Mei sighs in relief.

"Here, let me carry her."

"Thank you. If anything we'll at least have decent accomodations tonight."

"Your rooms have already been prepared." The priest says as they approach the entrance of the temple. The feminine tone of his voice making it clear that it was Xiwangmu herself speaking to them.

"Oh thank you Great Mother." Jing Mei makes a bow as Xiwangmu through her priest leads them inside the temple grounds.

"You did well General Xuan Zhen, both you and General Nan Feng have my thanks."

"No problem Xiwangmu, besides I've been itching for a fight for awhile."

"Jing Mei? What happened?" A man rushed to Jing Mei's side. His blue eyes shone in the moonlight, his expression was filled with worry.

"Ji Huifan we were attacked at Puqi shrine, I don't know how they found out...we've been so careful -"

"They hired mercenaries." Mu Qing says with seriousness as he gave Meng Ai to her father.

"Let's discuss further details when we are inside. That you won't have to keep repeating yourself General Xuan Zhen." Xiwangmu says as she continues to lead everyone into the room Hua Cheng and Xie Lian were waiting. Once Meng Ai was placed in bed in the room where her parents stayed and once Feng Xin arrived they began their discussion.

"Mage mercenaries - that's a new low even for them."

"It's been awhile since we've had any contact with your family since we've fled. What I don't understand is how they managed to find out where we were."

"Given the right place to look for them and look for the ones with the right skill level and the right amount of desperation, I'm frankly not surprised that a blood thirsty family would employ them." Hua Cheng says as he leans back on his seat beside Xie Lian.

"Tracking and confirming their targets wouldn't be too difficult for them. Depending on the assignment, most of the preparation would be employing the proper tactics."

"And you know this because?" Hua Cheng raises his eyebrow at Feng Xin in a smug certainty.

"I've had my encounters with some of them. A lot of them lost to me in my gambling den, that's how I learned how they work. And when I'm feeling lazy I just out pay whomever their employer was."

"Do some of them work for you now?"

"Only the ones I consider worthy Gege. Most of them are just mages who have lost clients over time and are desperately looking for money. But considering all we know and considering who their client is, the group that was targetting Jing Mei and Xiao-Ai are an investment of Fu Dao's royal family."

"Why do you say that?" Mu Qing asks skeptically.

"Simple, they didn't care if they were seen or not."

"What do you mean? They attacked in the middle of the night." Feng Xin says arrogantly.

"A night with a full moon, using demonic creatures that would cause a ruckus had anyone other than you or their targets noticed. They also attacked them in Gege's shrine which means they necessarily needed to personally be present since only mortals could pass through magical barriers. They either didn't want to wait or could no longer wait for Jing Mei and Xiao-Ai to leave the safety of the shrine. Considering all of these things, it's obvious that they didn't care to be seen. Which means that they've had the resources to train and be better than most other mercenaries. Over time they have developed the arrogance that it wouldn't matter if they were seen or not."

"And what makes that different from a typical mercenary?"

"A mercenary knows how to keep things discreet. The most sought after ones whether they are a magician or not are the ones who could make things look like an accident or make it look like the death was from natural causes. Mage mercenaries who control demonic creatures use those creatures to kidnap or kill their targets without needing to be physically present."

"Hmm and the fact that there were waves of them headed towards the shrine means -"

"- that they knew." Mu Qing finishes Feng Xin's thought as everyone becomes uncomfortable with the realization.

"Another spy from heaven?!" Feng Xin cries in exasperation.

"No - given the right training and the right time to develop their skills, it's possible for a mortal to tell who is a God and who is a ghost. I'm sure you two have noticed how easily Aiai does it while you were with her." Xie Lian couldn't help but suppress a giggle as Mu Qing and Feng Xin become sheepish at Ji Huifan's comment.

"Either one of the mages my family has employed has that skill or a God with an oracle who has a similar skillset -"

"Wait - Huifan, didn't you say that you lost the ability to see a God's aura when you were cured?" The couple shares a look of realization.

"I didn't exactly lose it, it just wasn't as good as when I was...you know..."

"But that means-"

"- one or a few of my relatives are with them." Another air of discomfort fills the room.

"Does this mean we have to flee again?" Jing Mei asks with trepidation and exhaustion.

"No!" "Absolutely NOT!" "No way."

"You are my oracle and priestess. Your family will always be welcomed in my temples. And right now you may stay here for as long as you wish. And if Generals Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen could lend some of their followers for added protection-"

"No offense Xiwangmu but that wouldn't be enough." She raises her eyebrow at him as Jing Mei is shocked that someone would disrespect her and Ji Huifan's reaction was questioning Hua Cheng's decision to cut her off. She isn't as fickle as the other Gods. Hua Cheng's attitude was refreshing to her when most Gods and mortals would be dictated by their fear and reverence to her domain.

"San Lang."

"Ji Huifen, when you were still a cursed immortal could you still enter Xiwangmu's temples?" He then realized what Hua Cheng was pointing out and sighed a sad tone out.

"Yes, my family and I had no problems entering in any temple. We may not be able to do everything our abilities allow us to do, depending on the God who is worshipped in the temple-"

"But the point still stands that if the three of you remain here, someone could still enter and harm you. They just need to be either a mortal or someone from your family."

"And what do you propose Crimson Rain Sought Flower?" Hua Cheng's gaze meets Xie Lian's as they both smile.

"Xiao-Ai is still asleep right?"

______________________________________________________________

Red was the first color that she sees as she wakes up. This was definitely not Puqi shrine anymore she thought as she slowly began sitting up. It was then that Meng Ai realized that the bed she was waking up from was both softer and smoother than what she was used to.

"Hello Aiai."

"BABA!" She launches herself forward as she embraces Ji Huifan and kisses him on the cheek. He laughs as he brings her to his embrace.

"Thank you for sending them to help me."

"Baba please don't scare mama like that again." He gives her a sad smile knowing that whether it is sooner or later he and Jing Mei will have to let her go to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

"Sometimes I can't help it Aiai, everything I do for both you and your mama are out of love. Even if you can't see it right now." She doesn't like that tone he uses despite knowing what he said was true.

"Where are we? Where is mama?"

"She's in the kitchen trying to teach Xie Lian how to cook." He helps her down and outside her room Hua Cheng and Xie Lian were waiting.

"Hello Xiao-Ai, did you sleep well?" Xie Lian asks tenderly while patting her head.

"Yes, it was a long sleep. I don't know how I was able to sleep for that long."

"Hungry little one?" Hua Cheng asks as he kneels down so that their eyes would be at the same level.

"Yes, where are we San Lang?" He opens his hand and waits for her to take it. He couldn't help but smile as he sees she was wearing the necklace he gifted her with a silver butterfly pendant.

"We are in our house, welcome to Paradise Manor."

AN: And this is the start of more Slice of life moments that I had not yet sufficiently delivered 😅😂 I hope none of you were too disappointed with the fight scene.

[satoshi-mochida]

Metaphor: ReFantazio ‘ATLUS Exclusive’ introduces story, setting, and characters - Gematsu

Publisher ATLUS and developer Studio Zero have released the third “ATLUS Exclusive” showcase video for Metaphor: ReFantazio, which introduces the game’s story, setting, and characters.

Metaphor: ReFantazio is due out for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, and PC via Steam and Microsoft Store on October 11.

Watch the footage below, including a full transcript. If you missed it earlier, watch the story trailer here.

Atlus Exclusive 3 Showcase

English

Japanese

■ Introduction

Hello, everyone. I am Katsura Hashino, the director of Metaphor. Shin Megami Tensei III, Persona 3, Persona 4, and Persona 5. We have been conducting a PR campaign—a world tour, if you will—and at Anime Expo which took place in Los Angeles, California, we provided details on the game’s setting and story. In this ATLUS Exclusive Metaphor: ReFantazio story version, we would like to introduce more about the narrative and the characters. The registration for digital pre-order and wishlist are open, so please be sure to pre-order or wishlist. Before we begin I would like to preface just in case that this introduction is limited to the opening section of the story. However, for those who would like to enjoy the story without knowing anything at all, please feel free to end the video here and please look forward to the release of the title. Is everyone ready? Now it is time to begin this presentation on the story. We hope you will stay until the end.

■ Premise of the Story

The game depicts a story of weaving bonds and becoming a king in a unique setting. The setting is a kingdom in turmoil rocked by a major incident in which the king is assassinated. The protagonist, a young boy, is on a journey with his partner, the fairy Gallica, to save a cursed prince. However, in the midst of all this an unprecedented election magic is invoked. The protagonist is swept into this unprecedented upheaval and ends up embarking on a journey around the world. In this exclusive showcase, let me share with you the beginning part of the story explaining why the protagonist decides to pursue the throne and some details on the allies who will support him.

Monsters Called “Humans”

First of all, what threats are the people of this world under? I would like to talk about the biggest cause for this, the monsters known as “humans.” In the setting for Metaphor, the atmosphere is filled with particles of anxiety created by people’s feelings of anxiety. This is the source of the magic of this world, which impacts the world in various ways. The particles called “magla” are sucked up and collected by a special device in the city. It is widely known in this world, for example, as a source of funding for this kingdom. In recent years, the amount of magma has increased and monsters have arisen in response. The most prominent example of this is the monster known as “human.” The design of the human was inspired by the many fantastic paintings left behind by the medieval artist Hieronymus Bosch. The mysterious creatures in Bosch’s paintings are sometimes described as the world’s first depiction of monsters or fantasy creatures. Metaphor has invited guest artists such as Koda Kazuma for background concept art, Ikuto Yamashita for the Gauntlet Runner designs, and Yuji Himukai for some Archetype designs. For this title, Hieronymus Bosch can be seen as the fourth great guest artist to join, lending us his hand. The protagonists will meet people suffering from these monstrous threats, and their journey will be filled with turbulence. N

World Affairs

Now let’s talk about what sort of situation this world is in. The story takes place in the “United Kingdom of Euchronia,” a country that was originally divided into three separate countries that were then annexed into one. However, the power of the royal family has already waned and a cadre of officials from the state religion known as “Sanctism” now effectively rule the country. At the top of the list is Sanctifex Forden. The aging king had no heir, and many of the people were beginning to look to the moderate Forden as their next leader to avoid political instability. On the other hand, there are a few who do not agree with Forden and the Sanctist vision. The person leading the charge on that end is a man named Louis, who at a young age became a powerful military elite. Louis is a man who declares that the kingdom has become infested with humans because of the anxiety brought about by the king and Sanctism, and he seeks to protect the weak who follow him from the monsters by force of arms. He is also a charismatic figure with a growing number of enthusiastic sympathizers in various locations. The story of Metaphor opens with a shocking scene in which Louis assassinates the king with his own hands. In fact, Louis is a great traitor who not only killed the king, but also plotted the assassination of the prince who was heir to the throne. Now that the king has been killed, if Louis wins the battle with Forden, a man who killed two generations of the royal family could potentially become the next king—a situation that the supporters of the royal family would risk their lives to prevent. So far we have revealed that the protagonist is traveling with the fairy Gallica to save the cursed prince. But in fact, his mission is to defeat Louis, the one who casted the curse. From the beginning of the story, the protagonist and Gallica have been on a mission to assassinate the treasonist, Louis.

■ Purpose of the Journey

Assassinating Louis is a tremendous journey for the protagonist unnamed boy and his partner Gallica. The symbol of Louis’s power is the Charadrius, the world’s only flying gauntlet runner, which also serves as his headquarters. However, the protagonist encounters a human before he even meets Louis, and in the process, he awakens an Archetype—a power of heroism that lies deep within him—and he survives, albeit painfully. The protagonists make their attempt on Louis’s life at the royal funeral. However, the face of the king, who should already be dead, appears in the sky, and a proclamation is made that the next in line to the throne will be the one who is most desired by the people. This is the result of a formidable magic power inherited only by the king, from generation to generation, which he had arranged to be triggered upon his death. Thus, an unprecedented upheaval ensues, with the entire population of Euchronia competing to gather support by a set deadline.

Election Magic

This is the background of the invocation of the election magic, which is the first turning point in the story. Immediately after this magic is invoked, the king’s face in the sky above shows the current popularity rankings and the faces of Forden and Louis appear, big and bold. In other words, at the start of the story, we are at the beginning of a conflict between two huge forces: Santifex Forden, who is in effect, the ruler of the country, and Louis, a charismatic rebel in the military. In the process, the protagonist decides to jump into the turbulent journey for the throne in order to save the prince, his best friend since childhood, and to take Louis’s life for that purpose.

■ Travel Companions

Now let us introduce you to the allies who will join the protagonist.

Gallica

Gallica, the fairy who has been with you since the beginning of your journey, is your partner who guides you along the way and provides you with direction. Fairies are rare in this world, and although they cannot participate directly in battle, they are especially important because they are companions who can help confirm plans and provide local information, guiding the protagonist in both nagging and kind ways, so that he does not get lost. However, she sometimes gets complaints from other team members saying that they can’t sleep from the sound of her wings when she flies around while they sleep.

More

Here is the keeper of Akademeia, the facility for Archetype customization, who I mentioned in another video. His name is More. More is the author of one of the key items in the game, the fantasy novel that the protagonist carries. He is imprisoned in this mysterious space. He is well-versed in a variety of knowledge and offers various advice to the protagonists as they research their Archetypes. He is also a supporter and one of the followers we introduced in another video, meaning you can nurture your bond with him. As a person who has been exploring this world since his youth, he as a follower, governs the “Seeker” Archetype lineage. The Seeker, which the protagonist first awakens, belongs to this overarching Seeker lineage.

Grius

The story begins with the protagonist being assigned the mission of sending a message to an ally. Due to strict confidentiality, only Gallica was informed of the details of the message, namely the mission to assassinate Louis, who cast the curse, in order to break the prince’s curse. Grius is the ally who you need to deliver the message to. He is not only a master of martial arts, but also skilled in magic, and once even attempted to master Archetypes. Louis is not an easy target to approach. However, with the assumption that he will surely appear at the king’s funeral, the protagonist along with Grius, join hands on this mission.

Strohl

In order to deliver a message to Grius, who is undercover as a soldier in the Royal Army, the protagonist first volunteers to be a soldier at the recruitment center in the Royal Capital. There he meets Strohl, a young man of noble birth. It is a rare sight to see a noble volunteering for military service, but he seems to have a deep grudge towards humans from prior experience. Perhaps because of this, he has the courage to stand and fight as a noble in front of other citizens, and he has a strong sense of justice, treating everyone equally. Party members can freely swap between the Archetypes that the protagonist acquires during his journey, but the first Archetype that awakens in Strohl is the warrior. His beliefs are embodied in his heroic image and give him new strength.

Hulkenberg

The name of this red-haired warrior is Hulkenberg you drew. She is a member of the Holy Order and once served as the prince’s guard. However, during Louis’ attack on the prince, she was unable to fulfill her duty to protect him, and stepped away from the Royal Capital for a long time. She continued her journey, searching for the whereabouts of the prince without a clue as to his safety. In the midst of this disappointment, she learns of the king’s death and returns to the Royal Capital, where she meets the protagonists. She would then throw herself into the fray once again. The first Archetype to awaken in her is the “Knight.” With her pride as a knight and unwavering determination, she is a reliable presence in the party. She can be a bit stubborn and stoic at times, but on the other hand she has her goofy side, such as relishing and eating unconventional food. As a side note, when we first announced this work we had a red-haired elf-like woman as our concept character, and through the development process of the game, we were able to complete her as this character Hulkenberg. Thank you to those who have been waiting patiently to see how she would turn out.

Heismay

This is Heismay. With his distinctive appearance, he is a unique character who also joins the party. He has a different and painful past compared to Strohl and Hulkenberg, and in order to overcome it, he decides to face his own anxiety and awakens his Archetype. The first Archetype to awaken in him is the “Thief.” Despite his seemingly comical appearance, Heismay is a skilled and agile fighter. Heismay will expand the range of the party’s tactics to a new level.

■ New Companions

Now the traveling companions will be further increased as the story progresses. Let us continue and introduce you to some of the new fellow characters.

Neuras

Of course, the party needs legs that’ll take them around the wilderness to fight in the campaign. Those legs are the gauntlet runner, and Neuras is its pilot. He was originally a gauntlet runner designer for the royal family. He’s a man of unique traits, whose only interest seems to be the knowledge of gauntlet runners, but he is also a lively figure who brings a cheerful mood to the trip, not being easily discouraged by the serious problems that could trouble the others. Although he does not take part in dungeon combat, he is one of the key supporters of the protagonist and others on their journey, awakening the “Gunner” Archetype in the protagonist. Also, bonding with him may cause a change in the gauntlet runner itself. Please look forward to that as well.

Junah

Let’s continue the introduction further. This is a scene from a major national event. The name of the beautiful woman standing on stage is Junah. She is a songstress, known to have the most beautiful voice in the kingdom. She is even more famous than the royal family, despite the lack of modern media in the world. Junah, in fact, has an unexpectedly important background, and she too awakens an Archetype—the “Masked Dancer”—and later joins the protagonists in their journey. The character art is by Shigenori Soejima, a well-known artist in the Persona series. Junah’s costume is prominent, but in order to achieve the vivid and fashionable art that we are known for, while still fitting in with the fantasy world, we created characters unique to this title, referencing the “Swinging London” fashion movement of London in the 60s. We are pursuing a particular artistic style, which we hope you will enjoy in your gameplay.

■ Tribes in the World

We have introduced the companions that will join you on your journey, and one thing to point out is that they’re all from different tribes. In the previous information drop, we have told you that there are eight tribes in this world. The Clemar, averse to irrationality. The Roussainte, who pride themselves on strength. The Rhoag, who are long-lived and see the value in passing something on. The Ishkia, said to be highly intelligent. The Nidia, who are particularly sociable. The Paripus, who love a lively banquet. The Eugief, who value harmony. The enigmatic Mustari, who do not speak much. In addition to those eight, there are the Elda, the protagonist’s tribe, whose existence itself is rare. These tribes are set based on a concept unique to this game. The motifs we used were the traits and characteristics that people have. To draw a line with standard fantasy world settings, the tribes in this game were created from scratch, being inspired by the biases of people’s personalities and values. This is one of our efforts to rebuild the fantasy RPG from the ground up, and we hope that you will enjoy the freshness of this new experience.

■ Election Race

The title also features gimmicks to make the game more exciting, such as the “election magic,” and the great race across the kingdom, which is held as part of the popularity contest. In a kingdom ruled by a monarch, it is truly an event that turns things upside down. In the confusion of not knowing what is right and wrong, what ideas will people come up with, and what will people seek in a king. Although the word “election” may sound formal to some, we incorporated it because we thought it would be a device that would provide unpredictable developments when depicting a fantasy story. Please look forward to the details on this.

■ Closing

Well, how was it? In a world where anxiety which we all inherently carry is becoming a real force to be reckoned with, and in order to confront it, we must awaken the heroic powers, or Archetypes, that we are also born with, and overcome our fear of an unknown future. We created this RPG with such a goal in mind. Unlike the contemporary story we have made in the past, there are various settings that are unique to Metaphor. But we have created a game that can be enjoyed by all users. For example, we have a “Memorandum” function that can be activated with a single button during play, to give the freedom to enjoy the details of this world setting. We hope that many people will play the game once it is released, so please stay tuned. Once again, Metaphor is scheduled to launch on October 11, 2024. Pre-orders for both the physical and digital versions are now available. We hope you will pre-order or wishlist today. Those who pre-order will receive the “Archetype EXP Chest Set” and the “Adventurer’s Journey Pack” as pre-order incentives. Both items are useful for in-game consumables for battles and party development, so don’t miss out. Metaphor is also available in special deluxe editions for both physical and digital versions. We have a limited number for the Collector’s Edition, so if you would like to secure one, please do so as soon as possible.

■ Up Next

In the next exclusive showcase, we will finally reveal what kind of competitors will emerge in the actual campaign, and what kind of supporters will lend us a hand in overcoming those rivals, so please stay tuned. In addition, many videos will be released daily by More, the keeper of Akademeia, who will introduce the various world settings of the title to you. We hope you will enjoy this one as well. See you again in the next exclusive showcase. Thank you very much for your time today.

[hush-writes-preg]

Of Tempests & Flames: Bringing Forth the Heir

Commission for: @themightyfluffyone Word count: 5,082 Summary: (A D&D-inspired story based on the commissioner's characters and universe) Storm is sick and tired of being hovered over by the infuriating sun elves just because he's carrying the heir to their kingdom. He's also done with the endless summer heat, and those pesky cramps that he just can't seem to shake…

(Part 3 of 4; Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)

TW: Labor, birth

He really, really shouldn’t have gone out today.

The sun shone overhead in a cheery, blinding ball of heat that left sweat beading on Storm’s skin, with nary a cloud in the sky to block its intense rays. He usually didn’t care, but the summer sun left the temperature uncomfortably warm, which coupled with the dark, draping fabrics he always insisted on wearing, left him unbearably hot.

All the extra weight at his middle didn’t help matters, either.  

The moon elf let out an exasperated puff of air as he paused yet again to rub at the middle of his back, his massive belly hanging before him as a constant reminder of, well, everything.  Of the fact that he’d let the prince of the sun elves knock him up after months of trying in return for safe haven, which he needed because he was a wanted man, and he was on the run because he’d stolen a necklace to increase his power but also happened to piss a whole bunch of people off in the process.  Now he was stuck here in Sunvail, with his rented womb occupied—

A tiny foot struck him right under the ribs as if its occupant was scolding him for his spiraling thoughts.  

“Sorry, little one,” he muttered under his breath, one clawed hand curling under his pregnant belly and rubbing soothingly.  “I know it’s not all bad.  Your father is… not as infuriating as he used to be, and you’ve grown on me too.”

Someone just out of sight cleared their throat in that insistent and slightly pompous way that always left his teeth grinding in irritation.  His royal babysitters were rarely out of reach, especially now that he was so close to birthing the kingdom’s eagerly-awaited heir, but that didn’t mean he liked it.  Or them.

He didn’t like many people, honestly.

“Sir?” the voice asked with forced politeness.  “Is everything alright?  Would you prefer to return to your quarters and rest?”  

“No, I damned well would not,” Storm practically growled, drawing his spine ramrod straight in a facsimile of his usual arrogance and doing his best to ignore his aching body’s prompt protests.  “I fully intend to finish my walk, Boon.  I’ve had far too much ‘resting’ lately, and if I get too much more of it, then I might have to break something.  Or someone.”

“Very well,” came the other’s dry reply.  “Just keep in mind that His Majesty, Prince Flamecaller, will be indisposed until well into the evening, so you would do well not to overexert yourself and draw him away from important matters of state.”  Boon was one of many palatial servants who’d been assigned to his well-being as his pregnancy progressed, and like most of them, he seemed to have a stick lodged firmly up his ass.  Boon in particular thought Storm beneath Flamecaller’s notice, and had on more than one occasion bemoaned the fact that the prince hadn’t chosen to mate with one of his own kind instead of some waspish moon elf.  

Needless to say, they didn’t get along very well.

A faint muscle spasm along the underside of his belly compelled him stubbornly forward.  Storm was all too aware of the countless eyes that watched his every move while he was out in public, guards and attendants and curious passersby all helping themselves to a look at the heavily pregnant moon elf in their midst.  Moon elves and sun elves rarely mixed these days in a social fashion, so to see one in the capital city was odd enough.  Anyone who happened to see a pregnant moon elf so close to the palace almost certainly knew who Storm was and what he was doing here, which was why his occasional trips outside had grown few and far between in recent weeks.  

Anyone who had a beef with him or the royal family would know to paint a huge target right in the middle of his back.

So while he’d managed to convince his babysitters to let him outside today, they actually hadn’t left the confines of the palace, preferring to let him stroll around one of Solarian’s many gardens instead of risking his life (and the life of the royal heir) by actually venturing into the city.  

But by the gods, he was growing claustrophobic.  

Step by step, he made his way around the lawn, sticking to the shaded areas where he could and boldly striding through the unavoidable sunny spots when he had to, with his gravid middle leading the way.  To be sure, he had a bit of a rolling gait, but if anyone had even tried to suggest that he ‘waddled’, he might take their head off.  Sweating, aching, tired, and far too warm, his already prickly personality had grown outright scathing over the past few days.

Storm nearly made it the entire way around the inside of the garden wall when another cramp spread through his midsection, the tight pain sending him stumbling to a halt.  The midwives called it ‘false labor’, but the moon elf felt like it was just another way for nature to torture him through this entire experience.

“Sir?”

“Fuck off, Boon.”  

His attendant didn’t bother trying to hide a longsuffering sigh from somewhere behind him. If Storm hadn’t been exhausted from hauling around an extra thirty pounds (and all of the other trials that came with this pregnancy), he might have whirled around and torn into the infuriating man.  Instead, he shuffled his belly around and tossed a glare in Boon’s general direction that lacked its usual biting ire.  

He was fucking miserable, okay?

“You’re dismissed, Boon.  I’ll take things from here.”  Another voice rose at Storm’s side, just as familiar and posh as Boon’s yet bearing a no-nonsense tone that clearly communicated that it expected no defiance.  “I’m sure you must have much better things to do elsewhere, yes?”

Storm didn’t bother listening to Boon’s reply, sure that it was just as snide and passive-aggressive as the rest of him, but waited for his footsteps to fade before addressing the newcomer.  “I don’t recall asking for anyone’s help, Win.”  

“And I certainly wouldn’t deign to give help where it wasn’t requested, my lord.”  He could nearly hear the smile in the other’s voice as he spoke, his tone just as dulcet and soothing to the ear as his appearance was to the eye.  Dressed in muted robes of blue, grey, and silver with his long white hair bundled into a fashionable knot at the nape of his neck, Frostwind was a lithe, pretty male that would have turned many a head in the Court of the Sun if it weren’t for the tell-tale grey tinge of his skin that spoke of mixed parentage.  Storm didn’t know much about him besides that he worked as a palace attendant and somehow seemed immune to most of the moon elf’s hormonal mood swings, which was quite an impressive feat.  “But I do know that you’ve been out in the sun for almost an hour now, and your robes are stained with sweat.  Perhaps it’s time to take a break, if only for a little while?”

Storm wanted to snap at him, to stubbornly do the exact opposite of what Win suggested just to be contrary, but he was ridiculously thirsty and his backache had only gotten worse.  Besides, the baby picked that exact moment to punt him right in the bladder.  

“Fine,” he growled, wincing.  “But only because I’ve got to take a piss.”

By the time he made it back to his room, the cramps had gotten bad enough to steal his breath, but Storm refused to give anyone another reason to fuss over him.

They’d already done more fussing than he had the patience to deal with.  The King had insisted on arranging the most extravagantly prepared birthing chambers for the arrival of his son’s heir-to-be with all of the awareness of someone with no real concept of money, including hiring enough midwives for a whole platoon of expectant parents, which led to Storm threatening to sneak away in the middle of the night and never come back.  It was already bad enough that he’d probably have to spread his legs and push out a baby in front of a stranger or two, but he sure as hells wasn’t going to do it in front of an entire guild and half the royal family in the middle of a gold-gilded suite.  

He’d butted heads with the king over the issue for weeks until the overwhelming stress and a bit of frightening spotting had forced Solarian to surrender the fight.  Instead, they’d had only the essentials moved into Storm’s quarters, while the King swore that no more than a handful of necessary staff would be in the room to assist with the birth.  

After stripping off his warm, sweaty robes in exchange for nothing more than an oversized tunic, the moon elf promptly kicked every servant and attendant right out of the room, unable to deal with the presence of anyone else.  He’d had these kinds of cramps before, but not this bad, and the discomfort sapped away his already limited ability to cope with other people.  Collapsing to his side on the bed, Storm curled around his swollen belly and tried to wait them out.

Time seemed to creep by as morning turned into afternoon, but the pangs only seemed to strengthen rather than fade with rest.  The baby shifted and kicked from within the confines of his womb as if they were just as bothered by the tensing muscles, and the moon elf found himself rubbing his hands over his dark grey skin in a vain attempt to calm them.  But he soon found himself too unsettled to remain lying down, and after a great deal of effort and some rather ungainly wriggling, Storm managed to get himself out of bed and back on his feet.  

The soothing smells of sandalwood and citrus filled the room from a small pot warming in the window, a subtle reminder of the prince’s own scent, but even that failed to soothe his frazzled nerves.  Storm began to pace through the room, one hand pressed against the small of his back while he tried to distract himself by running through mental lists of spell components and memorized incantations.  The cramps had to stop soon, right?  They did every other time he’d gotten them.  It wasn’t like he could already be in labor, not when the midwives said he had another couple of weeks before the baby came.  If anyone in the palace even suspected that he might be in labor, they’d descend on him like a flock of vultures looking for any scraps of gossip they might devour, and he’d never get a moment’s peace.  

Gods above and below, he missed not being pregnant.  

The next cramp shuddered through his gravid womb and left his abdomen painfully tight, forcing him to grasp blindly for the bedpost and hang on while he tried to breathe through it.  “Fuck,” he groaned, his cloudy eyes fluttering shut.  Maybe he had overexerted himself this morning, and his body was retaliating.  Of course he’d feel a little pain and cramping from carrying around such a huge load for too long.  It was only natural that he’d–

Pop.  Storm gasped as he felt a strange release of pressure and a sudden cascade of fluid down the insides of his thighs.  Cheeks burning in embarrassment, the moon elf clutched his legs together in a vain attempt to stem the flow.  Yeah, pregnancy had been hard on his bladder, but he’d never outright wet himself before.  

Oh gods, what if Flamecaller walked in and saw him like this?   

Mortified, Storm grabbed for his discarded tunic and tried to mop up the mess.  It wasn’t until he realized that he didn’t smell the sharp scent of urine that the pieces finally clicked.

Cramps.  Back pain.  Water.

He was in labor.  

Storm wasn’t sure what was worse: the contractions or the pressure.

Once he realized he was in labor, he couldn’t sit still.  It wasn’t like his body would let him, anyway, considering how the contractions continued to speed up and hit harder as time crept along.  He found himself using every piece of furniture in the room as a support to breathe through the rhythmic spasms, clenching his teeth and biting down the cries that threatened to bubble up from the back of his throat.  A new layer of sweat left his tunic clinging to his heaving body, the thin fabric sticking to his milk-swollen breasts and the gargantuan dome of his abdomen.  But still the stubborn moon elf refused to call out.  He’d grown so used to hiding any hint of weakness or vulnerability that even now, he struggled against the thought of exposing himself.  

Bent over the edge of the bed with the latest contraction, Storm arched his hips and tried to rock through the pain, his belly hanging pendulously beneath him.  He could feel the weight of the baby sliding into his pelvis and filling him with an intense sensation of fullness as it worked its way lower, and the knowledge that he’d soon have to give birth began to unravel his carefully-cultivated calm.  His hands and face buried in the bed’s opulent sheets, the moon elf muffled an involuntary scream against the mattress as he tried not to give in to the growing desire to push.  He wasn’t ready to deal with that yet, maybe not ever, and–

“My lord?  Would you care for some refreshments?”

Oh my fucking gods, no, I don’t want you or anyone else near me right now.  Swallowing heavily, Storm struggled for enough composure to answer, but unfortunately, he waited a bit too long.  

“...My lord?  Is everything alright?”  

Another contraction ripped its way through his thin frame, centered on the massive bulge of his belly.  Silk and fine linen tore like paper beneath his clawing fingers while another spurt of warm fluid trickled down to his knees.  “Everything is fine,” he finally managed to growl out, but his forced answer came at a price when the last word degenerated Into a strangled whimper that only a forge-deafened dwarf would miss.  

A muffled curse rose on the other side of the heavy carved door, followed by the sound of keys.  “Hold on, Storm.  I’m coming in.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Storm half-sobbed, but it was already too late.  

Frostwind pushed his way into the room without an ounce of his usual poise, his hurried steps faltering as soon as he caught sight of the moon elf’s barely-covered bottom and the puddle at his feet.  “Goddess preserve us,” he breathed, his gaze darting around the room before returning to the panting elf beside the bed.  “How long have you been in labor?”

“Don’t know,” Storm muttered into the sheets.  

“How do you not– oh, never mind.”  His voice held the slightest touch of exasperated fondness before he turned to poke his head back through the door and shout something

Storm wasn’t exactly of a mind to listen to what he said, though.  He knew that he’d soon be inundated with nosy sun elves intent on watching him make a further mess of himself, and the utter mortification of the approaching situation was starting to settle in.  In half a daze, he tried pulling one of the torn sheets from the bed to wrap around his waist in a half-assed skirt, but someone grabbed his hands.  

“None of that, now,” Win gently rebuked him, pulling the fabric away and wrapping a careful arm around his waist instead.  “Come along; let’s get you settled in your chair, alright?”

“Leave me alone,” the laboring moon elf grumbled, trying and failing to pull away from the delicate-looking elf’s suddenly firm grasp.  “I am not sitting on that stupid-looking–” Another cramp sent him doubling over, and if it wasn’t for Frostwind’s support, he might have toppled over.  He did cry out this time, a pathetic sort of wail that he knew he’d deny later, but how else was he supposed to react to being split open by something the size of a melon?

Frostwind hushed him and drew him along like a petulant child towards the chair Storm had ignored for weeks.  The low wooden monstrosity with a bench seat and handles looked like it’d been made for torture rather than comfort, but apparently it was a traditional piece of birthing equipment in these parts.  Win patiently guided the moon elf into place despite the way the male swore at him, brushing sweat-damp hair from his face and even going so far as to drape Storm’s sheet over his lap to give him a little privacy.  “There we go,” he said soothingly, his lips curled in a faint smile even when he had to duck back to avoid Storm’s sharp claws.  “Try to catch your breath for a moment.  The other midwife will be here soon, and I’m sure His Highness the prince will be right on her heels.”

The ‘other midwife’?  Storm glared in Frostwind’s direction, his eyes narrowing as he finally put the pieces together.  “Are you telling me that you’re a midwife?”

“Guilty as charged,” the other male chuckled, drawing up his loose sleeves and tying them in place to leave his arms bare.  “Do you honestly think you’d have agreed to my near-constant presence over the past few months if you knew that?  His Highness didn’t think so.”

No, he definitely wouldn’t have agreed, because he hated the idea of being treated like some delicate flower on the verge of breaking.  But Storm refused to admit that.  “I don’t like being lied to,” he snarled, ducking away as Frostwind tried to wipe the sweat from his brow.  

“And I never lied to you,” the midwife cooly answered.  “You just never asked.  Perhaps if you tried to get to know people instead of skulking around all the time, you wouldn’t find yourself surprised by such basic facts.” 

Before Storm could shoot out a sharp retort, a chaotic whirlwind of reds, golds, and purples burst through the door.  The usually composed and regal form of Flamecaller, prince of the sun elves, was in slight disarray, almost as if he’d half run the length of the palace to get there.  His breathing was a little fast and his eyes a bit too wide as they landed on Storm’s disheveled shape, but otherwise he managed to hold a noble air around himself like a slightly-tattered cloak.  “Are you alright, Storm?”

“Does it look like I’m alright?!” the moon elf snarled, gesturing wildly at his sweaty, bloated body. “I’m– I’m– oh fuck–”

“The contractions are coming pretty quickly now,” Frostwind said with his usual evenness as he gestured to indicate where the other midwife could set a basin of warm water.  “Your mate managed to hide them from me for hours before I realized what was happening.”

“Not… his mate,” Storm groaned, clutching at his quaking belly.  

“Of course not,” Win replied in an infuriating and entirely too-agreeable way.  “Now I need to check your dilation, which means I need to touch you.  Can I do that without you taking a swipe at me?”

Wood scraped across stone as Flamecaller pulled a stool to his lover’s side, dropping into the seat and grabbing for Storm’s hands.  “I’ll keep him occupied,” he promised, drawing one to his lips to give the back a quick kiss.  “You know, I was in the middle of a meeting with several of the western lords when the runner came.  You should have seen their faces when I got up and walked out in the middle of one of their tirades.”  

Storm leaned back against the chair, sweat glistening on his brow as he tried to ignore the midwife’s probing fingers, infinitely glad that the other kept his claws filed short.  “Are you expecting an apology from me?”

“Of course not.  They’re as interesting as boiled porridge and twice as useful in matters of state,” the prince said with a smile.  “I’m thankful for the reprieve.  Let Father deal with them.”  His words might have been lighthearted, but there was nothing trivial about the intense way his eyes met Storm’s.  Something burned within them, brighter than flame magic and twice as hot, an unspoken affection to which they’d both been reluctant to put a name.  Flamecaller leaned close, his warm lips brushing briefly against the corner of his lover’s mouth.  “I’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”  

They might have been having a moment, but the baby wasn’t about to stop for anything.  A new contraction rippled over Storm’s swollen womb before he could respond, leaving him scrunching his face in pain as he let out a distressed howl through clenched teeth.  

 “That’s right, ride it out,” the midwife said from his incredibly intimate position between Storm’s outstretched legs.  “You’re almost completely open, Storm.  It won’t be long now.”  

“Gods, it’s already been hours,” the moon elf griped.  He turned to glare at Flamecaller, his cloudy eyes narrowing.  “Your child is already a menace, you scheming bastard.”

“Well, at least we know where they got that from,” Flamecaller replied with a smirk.  “It’s certainly not from my side of the family tree.”

The two males stared each other down, ignoring the sound of clinking glass and pouring liquid until a chilled glass was pressed against the prince’s palm.  “Here,” Frostwind murmured, gesturing at the glass with the point of his chin.  “Bloodfruit juice.  He needs some fluids, and the sweetness will give him some much-needed energy.”  

Rime clung thickly to the glass from the midwife’s magic, leaving its crimson contents startlingly cold against Storm’s tongue as he took a careful sip from the offered drink.  Something shifted heavily around the bottom of the glass, but Win predicted the prince’s question before it even left his lips.  

“Moonstone,” he said, sparing Storm a glance.  “For the Goddess’s blessing.  Mother always swore by it.”

It was such a small thing, but that faint nod to their shared heritage in this foreign land eased a little of the tension from the moon elf’s shoulders.  “Thank you,” he mumbled quietly.  

Perhaps it was the moonstone’s boon, or perhaps it was Flamecaller’s presence, or perhaps his body had just gotten fed up with the whole process of childbirth, but everything seemed to escalate from that moment.  Storm barely had a chance to catch his breath before the next contraction slammed into him, and his claws dug weeping punctures in the prince’s fair skin when the pain grew too much.  Soon Frostwind began urging him to push, and he felt the baby’s tiny body shift farther and farther down.  

“I can feel the head,” the midwife called up to them after the next contraction, his fingers probing gently into Storm’s straining opening.  “You’re making excellent progress, my lord.”  

“Just get it out of me,” Storm moaned, exhaustion starting to creep over his features.  “Please.”

“That’s all on you, my lord,” Frostwind replied, wiping his hands on the towel the assisting midwife handed him.  “Keep pushing, and we’ll meet them soon enough.”

“I’m already fucking pushing!” the laboring elf practically wailed, the dome of his belly almost impossibly tight from the near-constant waves of contractions.  

“Shhh,” Flamecaller whispered, pulling his lover against his chest and cradling him close.  “You’re doing great.  It won’t be long until our baby’s here, my beloved tempest.”  

“I hate you,” Storm grumbled, unwanted tears soaking into the prince’s fine shirt.  “You godsdamned bastard.  You did this to me.  Hells, I’m never gonna let you touch me again.”

“I hate you too,” Flamecaller replied, but the spoken words didn’t at all line up with the obvious tenderness coloring his voice as he ran a pale hand soothingly over his lover’s hair.  “But let us save those honeyed words for after the little one comes, alright?”

Swallowing and giving the prince a half nod in response, Storm grasped the chair’s handles and tried to brace himself for the next contraction.

But gods, were they brutal.  It felt like a giant fist closed over his womb every time and tried to squeeze all of his insides right out through his cunt.  

Everything started to blur together into an endless cycle of pain, cramping, and pushing.  The room rang with Storm’s wails, with Frostwind and Flamecaller’s calmer voices adding to the din with their encouragement and soothing tones.  But no matter how hard he bore down, the moon elf couldn’t seem to get over that last threshold.  

He’d nearly brought the baby to a full crown when panic finally hit him.  Wild-eyed and near frantic, the moon elf threw an arm over his face and slumped back in his chair as he desperately gulped down air.  

“Don’t stop now!” the midwife called, kneeling expectantly between Storm’s cloth-shrouded knees as if ready to catch the child at any moment.  “They’ve stretched you almost as wide as you’ll have to go.  Push a little harder, and they should slide right out.”

“I can’t,” the exhausted elf whimpered.   

“You can.”

“No, I can’t!”  Electricity fizzled around the edges of Storm’s wide-eyed face, his chest heaving for every breath.  “I can’t– I can’t do this anymore.  Just get the godsdamned baby out of me.”

“If you’ve got the energy to discharge magic like an unschooled child, then you have enough energy to finish giving birth,” Frostwind scolded, his lips turning down in the first frown that either of them could ever remember seeing on his comely face.  

“No!”

Warm fingers tucked under the stubborn elf’s chin and turned his face towards Flamecaller.  The cocky smile on the prince’s face wasn’t as bright as it usually was, but it still radiated warmth as he met Storm’s eyes.  “Focus on me,” he murmured.  “I have faith in you.  I know how powerful and incredibly stubborn you are, so I know you can do this.  You’re already so, so close.”  His thumb brushed across the bottom edge of the moon elf’s lip, a gentle caress that spoke of all the things they hadn’t yet said.  “In fact, if I reached down right now, I could– I could touch our little one.  The one we made, together.  The one you’ve carried in your belly for all these months.”  

Storm let out a shuddering sigh and gave the faintest of nods.  

“But you know what I’d like most, my impetuous Storm?”  His fingers slid reverently over the moon elf’s cheek, his magic drawing some of the heat from his lover’s flushed skin.  “I want to hold them in my arms and see whether their features take after yours or mine.  I want to place them against your chest and watch them suckle from their father for the first time.  I want to be able to look upon the purest, most precious gift that anyone’s ever been able to give me and finally understand what it means to have everything.”  Flamecaller was the son of a powerful king, and he’d long since learned to mask his thoughts and feelings behind a carefully-cultivated veneer, but at that moment, something akin to vulnerability touched his eyes.  “Please, Storm.  Let’s meet our baby, hmm?”

The thin body pressed against him relaxed ever so slightly, its owner managing a faint chuckle.  “And here I’ve always thought you were a heartless bastard,” the moon elf whispered, leaning into the prince’s touch.  “Don’t tell me you’re going soft.”

“Never where you’re concerned,” Flamecaller teased, though further banter immediately ceased as soon as a tell-tale flash of pain skittered across Storm’s face.  

“Save the bedroom talk for later, my lords,” said the midwife, giving Storm’s knee a purposeful pat.  “It’s nearly time for you to push again.”

It didn’t happen during that contraction or even the contraction after that.  But on the third grueling clench of his overtaxed womb, the moon elf gripped the handles of his birthing chair and filled the room with a fierce shout that threatened to shake the very rafters.  The sound abruptly ended, leaving behind a silence that seemed eager to be broken.

And just like that, it was.

The mewling squall of a newborn filled the gap left by its father’s voice, reedy yet somehow still quite angry, as if its owner couldn’t believe the impertinence of being forced out into this cold, unfamiliar place.  “It’s a boy!” Frostwind called out, cradling the tiny heir to the sun elf kingdom in his arms.  The hall was immediately filled with shouts of unmistakable joy and congratulations, accompanied by footfalls as runners took off to deliver the news throughout the palace.   

“Let me see him,” Storm mumbled, slumped tiredly against the chair.  Everything hurt, and everything leaked, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter anymore.  All that mattered was the tiny gray-skinned child in Frostwind’s arms, a shock of pale hair plastered to his oblong head while his wrinkled little body flailed.  

The midwife nodded, expertly winding a soft cloth around the babe’s body before handing him over to Flamecaller.  The slick cord still trailed from his belly, and his skin was streaked with gods-knew-what, but somehow he was still perfect.  

“A son,” the prince whispered in barely-concealed wonder.  “You’ve given me a son.”

“I’ve given us a son,” Storm chided, though there was only a hint of the usual edge to his voice.  “If you think I’m going to go through all that and then just walk away from him, you’ve got another damned thing coming.”

“Fine, you’ve given us a son.”  Placing the baby gently against the moon elf’s chest, Flamecaller let his hand linger, stroking his fingers along the newborn’s back.  “But I’d hate for him to be an only child.  Does this mean–?”

Someone let out a polite cough, and they looked down to find Win staring at them with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised.  “I expect you to wait at least four to six weeks, gentlemen.”

“For what?”

Flamecaller burst out laughing, which startled the baby into another bout of displeased sounds just as horrified realization spread across Storm’s face.  The moon elf’s mortified voice added to the cacophony as he leveled a string of scathing curses at the now-grinning midwife and the prince alike, all while the news of this joyous occasion spread across the capital city like wildfire.

And somewhere, the Goddess smiled.

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[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Episode 5

[edit: forgot to mention, this is three years on from ep4]

the middle act of 'season 1' lol. would call this the Tywin/Aerys divorce chapter but honestly they were divorced from the first.

on Serala of Myr... perhaps unsurprisingly I don't like the idea that she was this 'snake with tits' whispering terrible ideas in Denys Darklyn's ear: so here she just married some Westerosi lord who was hankering after her and promising her a wealthy life, but is largely uninterested in his affairs. I don't think it's a reach though to assume the people of Duskendale found her helpful subject to project onto when things went awry and they didn't want to blame their noble lord.

Prev: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4

Next: Episode 6

title for this one: Aerys Targaryen Fucks Around

A masked ball at the Red Keep. Everything looks extravagant as hell. Aerys dances with a beautiful woman who smiles at him each time their eyes meet, and that excites him. Rhaella (in the early stages of another pregnancy, and with faint marks on her neck) looks to Ser Bonifer Hasty who stands at the side of the hall. Ser Bonifer Hasty looks abruptly away.

Aerys' dance with his partner concludes; she smiles at him, then quickly departs his side and goes to make eyes at Rhaegar, who is sitting at the side plucking the strings of his harp. Aerys, pissed, gets up to interrupt the next dance and make a speech to the party

The speech is kind of shit. Aerys feels grandiose and charismatic but he's obviously drunk and slurs his words as he talks of the future greatness of the kingdom. After an awkward clap that Aerys doesn't recognise as such, he stands down, and Tywin stands up: the king is obviously enjoying himself, he says, but he as Hand nonetheless echoes those sentiments. Bit of a laugh goes round. Aerys, embarrassed now, sits there stewing

opening creds lol

The King's council. Denys Darklyn has stopped paying his taxes and requests the presence of the King so that he might petition him!!! Tywin says that is absolutely not happening, and he will see to it that Lord Denys does pay his taxes with interest. Aerys begins a protest, maybe he DOES want to go to Duskendale, but Tywin shuts him down a little angrier than usual, and says also, enough with these expensive parties for a minute - they have other things to be focusing on

In the Great Hall, Ser Bonifer Hasty in the presence of the King. He requests the King's blessing to depart King's Landing and begin his Holy Hundred. Aerys like 'sure whatever lol'. Rhaella watching from the sidelines, barely able to conceal her heartbreak

Rhaegar in the ruins at Summerhall, playing another strange Valyrian tune on the harp. Suddenly, he's taken by a vision: a rising sun, a blue rose, a woman's scream, a dragon's roar. Note: whilst I imagine Dany's visions as clear and visceral, Rhaegar's lack the same clarification - they should be more like that fucked up tunnel Willy Wonka takes the kids through in that 1970s movie. Rhaegar looks up to see Arthur Dayne, who we see has been standing at a small distance from the prince, eyes fixed ahead

In Duskendale: Denys Darklyn and his wife Serala of Myr, who sits making a dress for herself in the style of home. He explains to her his grievances with the King, and wonders if Aerys will come to Duskendale. Serala, who speaks the common tongue well enough but perhaps not so well as to follow the intricacies of Westerosi tax systems, humours her husband with a nod

Rhaegar riding back to King's Landing with Arthur Dayne, in the midst of a field. Rhaegar wonders if Arthur knows how Summerhall burned: the story of Egg trying to cook eggs. Rhaegar was born here, and has always felt a connection to the place, he says. Now, he decides to confide in Arthur that he's been having Visions, and Arthur nods, unsurprised: that's why he came to his side, after all. Rhaegar nods: checks out. He now has a cryptic friend to hang out with x

Rhaella's new pregnancy: it's hard to get a moment of privacy from the maesters and midwives Aerys sends around after her. Pushed to her limit, she opens a closet and locks herself in, sliding to the floor in the dark

Aerys decides he wants to be kingly, announces at a new council meeting that he means to build an Enormous Wall a hundred leagues north of the existing wall (wow and to think this was written before 2016). Tywin is like pls be serious, that is not what we need right now. Aerys tries to make his case, but is shut down by Tywin, who suggests he go rest - he looks tired. The council hide smiles

Well now obviously he's going to do it. Aerys rises in the middle of the night. Rhaella rouses beside him and and wonders aloud where he's going. Aerys says he's gong to take a man to task in Duskendale. Rhaella asks if it will come to blows, Aerys (excited) says he does not know. Rhaella says nothing but we can see her manifesting something

Tywin, waking up some hours later. what the FUCK is going on

Aerys hits the road! He's having a grand old time with his guards. He has an apple. He stops at an inn. The smallfolk wave to see him go, and Aerys waves back. He feels like a king

Aerys reaches Duskendale. People don't seem quite so friendly here, but he doesn't take the meaning. Arriving in the castle's courtyard, the gates close behind them. Aerys looks for Lord Denys but does not find him. Instead, archers of Duskendale take out the men around him, and his KG Ser Gwayne Gaunt (you KNOW I've got that wiki open) is killed by the Duskendale master-at-arms. Aerys begins to suspect something is afoot

Serala of Myr watching from the window

Tywin enters the council chamber, where all the men who enabled this latest nonsense sit silent. Tywin goes to his seat, and sits heavily. ffs

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

28th July >> Mass Readings (USA)

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading 2 Kings 4:42–44 They shall eat and there shall be some left over.

A man came from Baal-shalishah bringing to Elisha, the man of God, twenty barley loaves made from the firstfruits, and fresh grain in the ear. Elisha said, “Give it to the people to eat.” But his servant objected, “How can I set this before a hundred people?” Elisha insisted, “Give it to the people to eat. For thus says the LORD, ‘They shall eat and there shall be some left over.’” And when they had eaten, there was some left over, as the LORD had said.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 145:10–11, 15–16, 17–18

R/ The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.

Let all your works give you thanks, O LORD, and let your faithful ones bless you. Let them discourse of the glory of your kingdom and speak of your might.

R/ The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.

The eyes of all look hopefully to you, and you give them their food in due season; you open your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing.

R/ The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.

The LORD is just in all his ways and holy in all his works. The LORD is near to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in truth.

R/ The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.

Second Reading Ephesians 4:1–6 One body, one Lord, one faith, one baptism.

Brothers and sisters: I, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace: one body and one Spirit, as you were also called to the one hope of your call; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation Luke 7:16

Alleluia, alleluia. A great prophet has risen in our midst. God has visited his people. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel John 6:1–15 He distributed as much as they wanted to those who were reclining.

Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee. A large crowd followed him, because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick. Jesus went up on the mountain, and there he sat down with his disciples. The Jewish feast of Passover was near. When Jesus raised his eyes and saw that a large crowd was coming to him, he said to Philip, “Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?” He said this to test him, because he himself knew what he was going to do. Philip answered him, “Two hundred days’ wages worth of food would not be enough for each of them to have a little.” One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish; but what good are these for so many?” Jesus said, “Have the people recline.” Now there was a great deal of grass in that place. So the men reclined, about five thousand in number. Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed them to those who were reclining, and also as much of the fish as they wanted. When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples, “Gather the fragments left over, so that nothing will be wasted.” So they collected them, and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves that had been more than they could eat. When the people saw the sign he had done, they said, “This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world.” Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him off to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain alone.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[thomasthetankieengine]

In the midst of ranting about the pagers attack, enarei:

1. refers to members of Hezbollah as just "supporters"

2. seems to be unaware that members of paramilitary organizations often have other jobs and are often not full-time professional soldiers

3. fails to realize that Hezbollah is also designated as a terrorist organization by the United Nations Security Council, the European Union, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, Bahrain, Argentina, France, Germany, Honduras , the United Arab Emirates, the Netherlands, and Guatemala and is commonly seen in much of the Arab world (except Syria and Lebanon) as pawns of Iran.

4. ignores or is not aware that Hezbollah has lost prestige and popularity in some parts of the Arab World because of its actions in the Syrian Civil War on behalf of Bashar al-Assad, the hereditary dictator of Syria.

5. seems to forgets that the attack in Lebanon was not orchestrated by the United States.

Now, there's a VERY good argument to be made that Israel crossed a serious line by violating international laws against mines, booby-traps, and other devices, but arguing that members of a paramilitary organization are civilians or characterizing them as civilian supporters is just pure idiocy.

I have no idea why Tumblr users who are horrified by the pagers attack aren't pointing out the booby-trap angle (which is what most serious journalists and experts on international law are actually focusing on), though if I had to guess, I would say it's because they don't read the news much and just want to opine based on vibes.

In any case, here are some articles about this attack and laws on booby-traps:

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Interview Tag!

Thank you so much for the tag, @kaylinalexanderbooks (here)!

I'll go with Masen from Of Starlight and Beasts, since I haven't talked about him much before!

1. Are you named after anyone?

"None that I know of. My name's pretty common where I was born - guess my parents just slapped on the papers the first damn thing that came to mind and never thought about it again, which, knowing them, would be exactly the amount of care they ever really put towards me (or my brothers)."

2. When was the last time you cried?

"Uh... rather not talk about it. Trauma and that whole ordeal, y'know. Next question."

3. Do you have kids?

"No, and I don't plan to! At least not on purpose. This bloodline of frauds and criminals dies with me, as far as I am concerned. But if I ever do end up having a kid, accidentally or not, I would try to be thousands of times better than my parents ever were."

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Me? Sarcastic? Oh, you wound me with such absurd accusations upon my character. I would never do such a thing. (winks) I am always such a painfully straightforward person, can't you tell? (In case you really can't, this is sarcasm)"

6. What's your eye color?

"Brown."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Both! A good tale always has its fair share of twists and turns, at times surely frightening, and humor is certainly a key ingredient to any story worth telling. And I guess I am a sucker for happy endings, I admit, but the world's sucky at best and horrifyingly brutal at worst, so I think we shouldn't deprive our fiction from a bit of happiness in the midst of it all."

8. Any special talents?

"I am an incredible bard, if I may say so myself. But I am also an amazing con artist, and a thief of incredible renown, even if the authorities seem to be rather keen on seeing my head on a pike. I also have sailing talents - as any brother of a Pirate King would - and am quite good with the bow and arrow."

9. Where were you born?

"A filthy bilgewater fishing village west of the kingdom best known as Orloch, to two of the scummiest low lives you could ever hope to meet. Idyllic, I know." (rolls his eyes)

10. Do you have any pets?

"None. Me and my brothers could barely stay alive ourselves for most of our lives, and trusting another life to us would not have been the wisest choice, I will admit."

11. What sort of sports do you play?

"Does shooting people who get too knife-happy, and stealing from the filthy rich count as a sport?"

12. How tall are you?

"Pretty tall, though unfortunately shorter than my twin"

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

"I didn't attend any of the royal academies, so I wouldn't know, but one could technically say I am a connoisseur of economics." (Smirks)

14. What is your dream job?

"My dream job was being a musician amongst the nobility. Now my main concern is just 'do not get killed'"

Tagging (gently): @eccaia, @cowboybrunch, @mk-writes-stuff, @tabswrites, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories, @oh-no-another-idea, @rickie-the-storyteller, @thepeculiarbird, @cabbojage, @the-ellia-west, @clairelsonao3, @crowandmoonwriting, @lassiesandiego, @forthesanityofstorytellers and OPEN TAG

[nightguide]

PUSHING ROSES: the optimistic psyche of a dead heart (hear me out)

so sincerely i believe that the 5th Doctor and Pushing Daisies have one thing in common in which they never came to since both 5th and 88th have died in some point of their lives (making the latter of the world never forgotten but bought for); nevertheless coming to contact in silicon valley (where 5 did not lie) is how 88 survived (human toolkit)

ACTORS HELL: YOU WENT THERE FOR NO REASON: ELYSIUM

SMWC: you told a lie

SH: you made it up

SH8: you live what you commit

2. HARBINGER'S: DID I DO IT TO YOU?: UNBROKEN

SMWC: hated for no reason

SH: got no fate

SH8: got no heart

3. MAESTRO BECOME: STUCK UP BUT CONFIDENT (IN HIDING): STOLEN ABOUT TIME NOW IS HOW YOU'RE MEANT TO BE FAMOUS BUT NOW THE GOBLIN KING IS NOW BACK IN ACTION (BOWIE'S REVELATIONS)

SMWC: you made it all up to prove it ... one day but how?

SH: time to go (nowhere)

SH8: there is no mercy (shitty composer)

4. DANTE'S PARADOX: TIED UP: NO ONE

SMWC: who did you tell?

SH: you're quiet for that

SH8: aristocracy at the wrong order

5. JUDGEMENT DAY (NEW AGE): WHAT DID YOU DO: NO ACCOLADES

SMWC: its not your fault (but you knew how)

SH: you're not dead to re-route a certain feeling (religious trauma)

SH8: all your mother's fault (she made you go there)

6. GAIMAN'S HELL: ISLANDS (SARA BEREILLES): HAUNTED PAST OBSCENE FUTURE

SMWC: why are you so scared (your partner back to you)

SH: believe in me (that one person you loved too much to be around (Ramadan effective quality control)

SH8: does not matter (what goes, goes but you'll get it back... (eventually)

7. BABYLON UNBROKEN: YOU MADE IT ALL UP, NOW YOU LIVE IT: HEAVEN WANDERER OF THE DEAD VALLEYS OF HATE TURNED OBESE HEART

SMWC: however you liked it is how you never were meant to be there in the first place ('why did you do it?' energy is constant by the 'one moment' that killed your peace from existing from a monotonous explanation of the love come to broke (heartbreak inevitable fini mortem (you'll never find last to first is why you were there: unbroken - demi lovato plays around your psyche to why sex is more the special resonation with soul than living that broke you first (the clueless hypnotist: not my land (religious amounts of psyche to build a broken dead man past (why they respect you than you themselves)

SH: forgotten at last (she won)

SH8: ugly man knew why you cannot read a book (mystery persona is in the midst of a climatic heartbreak in the body to never-healing is a slave become)

8. KINGDOM COME: DONE FOR: SLAVE OWNERSHIP IN PROCESSION TO SOCIAL BIAS (YOU ARE AS YOU ARE TOLD: NO HOPE TO CURE)

SMWC: commit suicide or nothing happens (regenerative healing is not found except pain becomes an ally eternally)

SH: you're dead by thought (intrusive explanation to your past)

SH8: you care but it will never be the same (what you know will haunt you but there is truth in terror if you realise it sooner (social karma is yours to take for the winning)

9. PYTHAGOREAN THEOREM: BISMILLAH ENERGY IS YOU NOW: HUMAN ARABIC IS THE DISCOURSE OF THE STORY TOLD FULLY IN THE EYES OF THE PROPHET MUHAMMAD (PBUH) AND WHY HIS LIFE WAS A WHITE LIE TO FIND THE MOST CONTROVERSIAL WIFE EVER FOUND (AISHA (RA) MARRIED YOUNG)

SMWC: what you know will stay with you but it's your guts who will battle to find sincere peace by your vitality being scarce for your virginity to protect (virgins get more hate for existing as told on the series Euphoria and you knew how TV aliases tell your story right back (related to your experiences being forcefully told if not committed to is the hard way)

SH: optimism is default to you (no hope but seeing someone else's dreams fulfil your reason to scream is the antidote (never told about your psychological evolution is living the life of someone else who wanted that dream (they were the hardest part about you never seen is why they're told before you (their becoming is you in the end: comparison journey)

SH8: you're hated and accept that (change is chance)