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witching-by-the-willow · 3 years ago

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Bittersweet

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do

'Cause I was going down, but I was doing it with you

Yeah, everything we broke, and all the trouble that we made

But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

- Favourite Crime, Olivia Rodrigo

Description: One sleepless night in Hell, Emilia decides to find the kitchen and seek solace in cooking, but instead finds herself in the company of her mortal enemy and maybe-something-more, Wrath.

(I just wanted to write about Princewitch making Hot Chocolate, but it somehow turned into this...)

Many thanks to @city-of-fae for giving me her time of day to beta-read and help me edit this fic. She was the first person I found who wrote for KOTW and her fics are beautiful and you all should check them out. In conclusion, she's amazing. 💕

Hope you all enjoy it! Feedback is always welcome! ❤️

Note: This was written before Kingdom of the Cursed came out, so it does not correspond with the revelations from that book.

Goddess above, have some mercy. Emilia cursed as she turned over in her bed for what she thought was the thousandth time. Sleep had started to seem like a luxury to her over the last few days. When she'd first arrived in Hell, the sheer exhaustion had been enough to have her drained every night. After those initial days, however, it had started becoming common for her to stay up staring at the ceiling or to grab a book off the bed table and get lost in its world.

Currently, she debated going to the library to pick up something new, but ultimately decided against it. Wrath often worked there at night, making a strategy to annihilate some enemy. Perhaps it was her. She wouldn't be surprised.

After a week of hostility from both their ends prior to her wedding with Pride, they had decided to strike a deal. She could do all she wished in his House, and would even have access to all forbidden text in its library, but would not attempt to spy on his nightly planning or practice any magic she learnt from the books on him. Of course, this was only as long as he was out of the list of Vittoria's possible murderers. He hadn't lied to her during their time in Palermo together, she knew that. She had spent many nights analysing every word he'd said in answer to her accusations. None of them pointed to him being the killer. For now.

After a few more minutes of mulling over those events, Emilia finallly got up from the bed. The Goddess of Leisure wasn't going to bless her tonight.

She looked around her room, looking for something to occupy her mind with. The chamber was a thing of beauty, with golden carvings on its black walls and tastefully selected furniture on the same theme. Wrath's theme. Stupid suave perfect demon. Shaking herself, she glanced at the ceiling: a painting of a war she didn't know anything about, though she often tried to count the soldiers on the nights she lay awake. That didn't seem appealing today.

Sighing, she flopped down onto the sofa, and heard a low rumble from her stomach. She hadn't visited the kitchens yet- had purposefully avoided them. Cooking reminded her of her family, and she wasn't sure she was prepared for the homesickness that would bring. Most nights, her books helped her ignore any hunger she felt, but she didn't have their aid tonight. Would going to the kitchen be such a bad idea? Maybe she could use a little reminder of home. It didn't take long to convince herself as she stood and walked out of her room.

Emilia knew she was lost the moment she approached a stairway she hadn't seen before. It was grander, forked much more than the others. Cursing every goddess she knew of, she paced in circles, weighing her options. She could try to find her way back or-

She felt a door open behind her. She whirled around and saw a shadowed figure standing in the dark of the doorway, dagger in hand. Emilia froze, a dozen spells leaping into her mind. But as she prepared to cast a body-freezing spell, the person lowered his weapon and stepped out.

"I didn't take you for someone who would murder people in their sleep, witch." It was too dark for her to see Wrath's expression, but she knew him well enough to sense a hint of amusement as he looked her down and up. For some reason, she relaxed under his gaze.

Emilia raised a brow. "And miss the shock in your eyes when I finally kill you? I wouldn't risk that."

"Still overestimating your assassination skills, I see."

She rolled her eyes at that. It seemed so long ago when she'd summoned him in that cave. Shared cannolis with him. That memory brought a faint smile to her lips, and when Emilia brought her eyes back to Wrath, he was watching her intently, dressed in his signature attire: black trousers and black shirt with golden embroidery. There wasn't ever a moment he didn't look tantalisingly gorgeous.

She burnt those thoughts and threw out the ash.

"Would you happen to know where the kitchen is, demon?" She ignored the questioning look he gave her at the shift in conversation. "Well?"

He nodded slowly and without another word, started walking in the direction she had come from. Frowning, Emilia followed him. They walked in silence for less than a minute before she poked his arm.

"Are you taking me to your killing chamber?" She was only half-joking.

Wrath gave her a flat look and continued walking. So much for small talk.

After a few more minutes, they reached one of the palace kitchens. It was dead silent and yet, entering it, she felt an odd sense of comfort. As Wrath put some lights on, she noticed the room was minimal in its design and utensils. She suspected Wrath had deliberately brought her to that kitchen. It was modest- by his standards- quiet and not flashy. Exactly what she was used to from her family restaurant. Stupid suave perfect demon.

Said demon was presently leaning against the counter and observing her while she checked out the untensils and ingredients. She ignored him. He'd leave soon anyway.

Chocolate. How long has it been since I last had chocolate? Nodding to herself, Emilia took out a pot, a whisk, a few spoons, cocoa powder, sugar, and after looking around for a bit, milk, chocolate and cream. Why does a House in Hell have all of this readily available? She didn't know and decided that she didn't particularly care. After what felt like ages, Emilia was back in her element, and she wasn't going to spend this one night of peace thinking about the logistics of shopping in Hell.

She turned to put her supplies on the counter and stopped short as she noticed Wrath in the same position as before, his golden eyes- with flecks of black- a little darker than usual. She narrowed her eyes and looked down at herself-

Nightgown. She was in a nightgown. A black, thin-strapped, low cut nightgown. In her eagerness to get to the kitchen, she had forgotten to put anything else on....But Wrath didn't need to know that, did he? So, she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him. "Like what you see, Your Higheness?"

Wrath looked away instantly and Emilia couldn't help her smug smile. It wasn't everyday one managed to fluster a Prince of Hell.

"But really, are you just going to lurk there? You have done your escorting duties. You can leave now. It won't be taint on your record of flawless etiquette."

He met her eyes again and opened and shut his mouth once. Sweet Goddess, I haven't ever seen him struggle for words.

Wrath cleared his throat. "Let us say- hypothetically, of course- if I were curious to see whatever human food you were making, how likely is it that you'd try and poison me?"

Emilia smirked at him. "I suppose you don't find my food to be a pollutant for your body anymore." He gave her another flat look and she mirrored it with one of her own. "It's a hot drink called Hot Chocolate. One of my favourites."

A thought came to mind, and she continued. "And the idea that you've been to the human world and never had it is making me question your sanity. You're welcome to try, but you will have to make it yourself. Unless you're incapable of cooking, that is." He scowled at the challenge. She smiled innocently at him.

"Very well, then. Tell me how it's done. Just know that, if in the end, you feel bad about your best skill, you brought it upon yourself."

Emilia winked at him. "Overestimating your cooking skills, I see."

Wrath walked over to her, undoing the buttons at his cuffs and rolling the shirt up to his elbows as he did. Emilia stared, suddenly more aware of her skin. Hadn't she once read a female lead describing her lover's forearms in vivid detail? It seemed strange to her then, but now, she understood her. Wrath looked up and caught her mid-gawking. The beginnings of a smirk appeared at his lips, but before he could open his mouth to undoubtedly mock her, she grabbed the pot and thrust it into his hand.

"I believe you know how to start a fire. So, get to work. No magic allowed." He raised his hands and muttered something that sounded like Yes, Your Majesty, but didn't speak further.

A few minutes later, they had a flame and Emilia had a headache, trying to get Wrath to add a little bit of salt into the rest of the mixture.

"You just told me sugar makes things sweet and salt makes them savoury. Why would we add it when we want this drink to be sweet?" He had his arms crossed across his chest, a gesture she associated with his pig-headedness.

She groaned as she tried to explain it again. "Salt balances the sweetness and enhances the flavour. It's not that complicated."

She held out a palm to him as he started to counter. "Why do you add gold on top of your black?" He thought for a moment and finally looked convinced as he added the pinch of salt she'd made him pick out. Thank goddess.

"Quickly now." He glanced sideways at her. "Please." She added begrudgingly. Why had she decided to challenge him in the dead of night?

"Now use the whisk to stir in circles and mix until there are no lumps."

Emilia stepped back to observe him, and when he started turning the whisk with enough force to break the pot itself, she finally cracked.

She doubled over in laughter, and when Wrath turned to look at her with a wary expression, she lost it all over again.

"Here." She went closer to him once she had some semblance of composure back, and put a hand over his holding the whisk. He froze but didn't pull away, so she started guiding him through controlled, gentle turns of the whisk. She was vaguely aware that she was still in a nightgown, but it felt ludicrous to pay attention to that when she could instead focus on the heat of his chest against her back. She could feel him looking at her and twisted her head to meet his gaze over her shoulder. The blazing fire she thought she had seen when he looked at her back in Palermo was back, and she was dazed to realise that she had missed and craved it ever since. His eyes- such frustratingly beautiful eyes- shifted down to her lips and back in the span of a second. She had no doubt he could hear her erratic heartbeat. Some part of her mind was screaming that this was dangerous territory. She was Pride's queen, but was a part of House Wrath. The dynamic was scandalous enough already.

But would it really matter if this scandal got a little more fuel?

A loud crackle in the fire brought her out of her haze, and she jumped back. No, she was acting ridiculous. Wrath was the flame, and she was the splinter of wood it burnt while crackling.

"Emilia-"

"You should put the pot on the flame." Her voice was shaking. Much like my sanity.

Wrath hesitated for a moment, but then did as she asked. They worked in silence for a while, before she ultimately had to tell him to keep stirring every now and then.

Emilia felt lost. Everything in this world was so connived. And Wrath, he was as much a mystery to her now as he was that first day in the cave. But he was also her one familiarity here.

He was a flame, yes. But she was finding it harder each day to stay away from him.

Could she not come near enough to let him keep her warm, but not enough to burn?

She watched him, but his attention was devoted to the boiling mixture, a faint smile on his lips. She stared. He was smiling. Not smirking, not grimacing. Smiling. It brought one to her face too. The first real smile since she'd left her home.

She went closer again, this time stopping at a respectable distance. "Time for judgement." She gave him a half-mocking half-encouraging smile. She was glad he didn't bring up what had happened some minutes ago. Grabbing a spoon, she brought one spoonful of the cocoa to her mouth and almost melted from the nostalgia it brought.

It tasted so much like...love. Just like how Nonna and Vittoria always made it. She closed her eyes and relished in its taste. She wanted to savour it as long as she could.

"The verdict, Your Majesty?" She opened one eye and closed it again. Wrath was smirking. Of course he was.

"You're not Emilia di Carlo, but you did a halfway decent job." She opened her eyes and smirked at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe you do belong with Pride, after all."

"The Sin Corridor didn't think so. Keep being an ass and you'll find out why."

"I'm guessing because it knew how truly irresistible you find me. Or have you forgotten your little... hallucination back there?" How could she? It was mortifying.

She pointed her spoon at him as if it were a knife. "Bring that up again, and I really will consider stabbing you in your sleep."

He chuckled. "You don't have to make excuses for coming into my chambers, cara mia."

Cara mia. My darling. She blushed all the way down to her neck. Damn him. But that didn't have quite as much effect, considering their location. So she just glared at him until he chuckled again and got the pot off their flame.

Emilia brought out two mugs, and poured the milk out equally. Almost. She gave herself a teacher's bonus. If Wrath noticed, he didn't comment.

They stood leaning back on the counter, staring at the opposite wall, with a cup of hot cocoa in their hands. If she didn't know the position she was in and the events that brought her there, she would think she had found peace. In reality, though, she had managed to find a spot in the precise opposite of Peace.

"What other treasures such as this one are you hiding in your grimoire?" Wrath didn't have a single drop of milk on or around his mouth, while she was certain she had a whole lining around hers. How did he manage to drink like that?

"If I was hiding something, you'd be the last person I'd tell. But am I right to understand that the mighty Prince Wrath, with all this luxury, considers chocolate milk a treasure? Is that all I need to bribe him to do my bidding?"

"I deal in bargains, witch. Not bribes." He paused, conflicted on whatever he was about to say. As he looked straight into her eyes, all traces of emotion were gone.

"How are you, Emilia?" She started on his use of her name. He made it sound like a hymn. It made her wish he'd say it more often, perhaps in other, more pleasant situations. She shook such thoughts out. He'd asked if she was okay. Why did he care? Did he care? She wasn't expecting this display of...was it concern she sensed? No, it must have been a trick of her imagination.

"I'm in Hell, demon. I would say that's enough of an answer as to how I am." He didn't budge. She muttered a useless prayer and sighed. "I'm just trying to survive. And find my sister's killer while trying to avoid getting killed myself. In the midst of all that, I haven't thought about anything else. But that's not a road I'm prepared to go down tonight. Let me be delusional for a few more hours."

He nodded. "I'll drink to that."

"To delusion." She raised her own mug.

A part of her wanted to laugh at how childish it was to do a toast with hot chocolate. But then again, that was one of the less unusual things she had been a part of. They sipped their drinks in silence.

"I do understand now where Gluttony is coming from." His tone was dry.

She blinked. "How dare you associate my hot cocoa with him? Take your words back. Now."

Wrath huffed out a laugh, and Emilia figured that if a night of delusion meant that she could have a second of pause from her world crumbling around her, she'd take it with open arms.

~~~

Author's note: Okay listen, it's been a while since I wrote anything, so whatever feedback you all have, please send it my way! Don't hesitate at all. I know this isn't as romantic as most of you probably wanted, but I'm just a little hesitant to write elements of romance, because frankly, I don't trust myself much with it and don't want it to be awkward.

And yes, I went through all of Olivia Rodrigo's lyrics to find one to use as the track for this fic. I have no regrets.

Anyway, there...I did it @ghostiewriter . You better act on your end of our bargain now. I'm waiting. 👀

Also, shoutout to @feysandfeels for telling me about the endearment "Cara Mia" which I've been told is Italian for "My Darling". This concept lives rent-free in my head.

@ssardothien @kingandfireheart @evolving-dreamer @bookologist @godscursedd @sirendeepity @gwynlaithlunel @tea-istic @polaroidsintheocean @dadopedirectioner @trowen @effervescent-bean @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @doesitmatteratalltoyou @deepdive-with-aurelius @wrathscannoli @lysandra-ghost-leopard + the 3 people I mentioned at different points above (Liss, Saarah and Luisa...I don't want to spam your notifs more than I have to, so tagging you once seems enough. 😂)

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the tags, let me know!

#kingdom of the wicked #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #kingdom of the cursed #princewitch #kerri maniscalco #fanfiction #my fic #kotw #kotc #kotw fic #niki writes

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dashedwithromance · 4 years ago

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Slithered Here From Eden - Princewitch

KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS!!! I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW SPOILERY THIS FIC IS. THE HEIGHT OF SPOILERS!! THE PEAK OF SPOILERS!! THIS IS A VERY LOUD WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU DONT WISH TO BE SPOILED THANK YOUUUUUU

anyways here is my first princewitch fic!! i hope you guys like it, and let me know if you have any ideas for fics for those two. im a little nervous to put this out here - ive written only cressworth and original stuff for a while, so im kinda nervous this wont be in character or will be weird in my style. anyway, please let me know if you like this, and if its something you want more of. im already working on a few others, courtesy of @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere ‘s brilliant ideas, but send in any requests you have!!! i hope you guys enjoy, thank you!!!!!

---

Hell was, well, hell.

Her husband was busy doing whatever kings of Hell did in their spare time, which she was thankful for. She didn’t wish to run into any of the Wicked, but Pride was close to the top of the list. Not the worst offender, however. The Prince she’d once tentatively called an ally had claimed that spot with his spectacularly humiliating betrayal.

The worst part was that she still didn’t understand. His motives, his feelings, his aims - all were shrouded in mystery, one that seemed to taunt her at every twist and turn. Bastard.

Contrary to her preconceptions, her rooms were actually rather beautiful. Similar to the style of the house Wrath had rented in Palermo, but it felt different. Darker. Her quarters were styled in black and gold, with serpent scones lining the walls. The fire flickered in a menacing fashion, though she’d long since learned it had more bark than bite.

Shadows crept along the floor until they curled at her feet like a cat, announcing the presence of the one demon prince she wished to see the least.

“What do you want.” Emilia barely gave him a glance before he walked him, arrogance pouring off him. As if he owned the damn place.

Infuriatingly beautiful as usual, he wore a dark suit, flecked with golden patterns, not unlike the tattoo she knew adorned his shoulder. Her attention flicked to the wicker basket he held gingerly in his hands. Covered with a soft blue tea towel, it looked like something plucked off the streets of her home, not something that belonged within the obsidian walls of the kingdom where wickedness ruled with abandon.

Silence was his only reply as he looked her up and down. The gaze threatened to set her alight; with rage or desire, she wasn’t entirely sure. Once, the bed that loomed behind her would’ve offered a taunting distraction and a fragile but desperate wish. Now, it only annoyed her, reminding her of the moments she’d failed so magnificently at seeing through his façade.

Still no response. They hadn’t spoken since her wedding, and their last words had been less of a conversation and more of throwing of well-deserved insults on her behalf. He’d told her that she knew nothing of his motivations, and to assume he wished her harm was foolish. She’d told him a few carefully chosen expletives, complete with a hand gesture that would’ve had her mother wringing her hands. Wrath had spent the days prior skulking outside her quarters, never saying a word, only letting his shadows pollute her already foul mood. She might’ve had the slightest amount of sympathy for him, had he not betrayed her, lied to her, married her to his brother and thoroughly pissed her off in the process.

He placed the basket down on the table at the other side of the room. Looking up, Wrath raised a carefully groomed brow. Apparently, princes of Hell had beauty routines.

His mood was undetectable through his face, but the shadows that followed him gave it away, if only slightly. They were the same dark as a summer night; dark enough for comfort, but not the soulless black pitch she’d seen him wear so often. An interesting combination for a prince who seemed to care not a whit whether she lived or died after he’d gotten what he wanted.

Wrath pulled back the cloth covering the basket to reveal – food. A carefully curated selection of her favourites, smelling like they’d been plucked off the serving plates of the Sea & Vine.

She nearly salivated at the sight – the food she’d eaten in Hell had been a sore spot for her. Though nothing was wrong with it, it lacked the love of homemade food. The flavour that came with knowing that someone lovingly made every single bite. There were no laughing families who cooked here, no fathers to taste-test, or sisters to tease while they made sangria side by side.

“How on earth did you find this?” The words slipped out before she could correct herself. ‘Earth’ was perhaps not the right term, though she couldn’t truly tell where she was. Under, felt more accurate. Below.

He looked at her as if she was missing the obvious – and she was.

The food smelt like she was used to because it was what she was used to. The same recipes, made with the same care as every meal that came from the Sea & Vine kitchens.

Panic enveloped her faster than joy.

“Did you hurt them?” She hissed, desperately searching his appearance for any sign of violence. He was wearing black, that much was true, but either he cleaned up exceptionally well, or there was no blood to be found.

“Hurt them?” Wrath’s tone was even, but she could hear how he scoffed. The nerve, “No. I even paid for it.”

Her heart still beat fast enough to burst from her chest, so he continued, “Relax, witch. No harm has come to them, nor will it, if you comply with my brother’s terms.” There was no audible threat in his tone, but she knew it went without saying. Comply, be Pride’s blooded wife, or her family would receive the same fate as Vittoria. It hurt to even think about, however brief the thought was.

She was going to throw something right at his beautiful, awful face. Maybe the basket, once she was finished devouring her favourites. Wrath would certainly look ridiculous enough with a basket slammed over his head, if he didn’t kill her first.

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you fear.” Emilia blinked, unsure how to respond. He seemed to be lingering, if demon princes could ever linger. Why wouldn’t he leave?

She nodded, restraining a biting retort about how she was sure that fact was a deep disappointment for him. Remembering the odd rules of demonhood, she thanked him.

Still, he wouldn’t leave. Just stood there, watching her with those golden eyes that peered into her very soul, reaching inside and setting her alight. His gaze was unnerving.

Her patience, which had thinned dramatically since becoming a co-ruler of Hell, waned, “Are you waiting for payment?”

He laughed. Actually laughed. A short, biting sound, but a laugh nonetheless.

“I could smell your foul mood from my own House. Perhaps this will appease you.”

Appease her. As if it were that simple. As if he hadn’t tricked her, lied to her by omission, made her into an even greater fool than the one she was.

“Perhaps if you deigned to be truthful, I would be more polite.” Lies, but worth a try. If only he would tell her something, anything by way of explanation. Even if it was brutally cruel and benefitting a member of the Wicked. Anything but the agony of anticipation.

Apparently this evening was full of more surprises, because Wrath then pulled out a chair, and gestured for her to sit down, like they weren’t sworn enemies. The thought of a biting retort was attractive, but the smell of food was too much. The scent of all her favourites, food she’d spent hours labouring over in the past, wafted towards her like an irresistible gift.

The basket held everything she dreamt of. Wrath laid the table with his harvest as she tried not to gape at the sight. Twin glasses of sangria, somehow still delightfully cold. The comforting smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeated the air. Plates piled high with a mix of all her favourite things: a selection of antipasto, a side plate of bruschetta, a bowl of pasta, and a small dish of cannoli. If she closed her eyes, and forgot the presence of the prince in front of her, she could picture being back home, surrounded by her family and loved ones. If she thought hard enough, she could faintly smell Vittoria’s favourite perfume, the one she made for herself.

When she opened her eyes, the dream faded away, and there was only Wrath sitting across from her. Despite all the effort she presumed he must’ve taken to fetch the food, he sat watching like he thought it was attack him. Or she would. A laugh escaped her lips, almost hysterical, at the situation. Her, Queen of Hell, sat with her husband’s brother, another demon prince, as they ate food from her family’s restaurant. Comical, if disturbing.

“It won’t bite,” She said, eagerly helping herself to a plate. His eyes flickered with the promise of his bite, and she fought to keep any sign of her reaction off her face. Now was not the time to think of his kiss, or goddess forbid, his tongue. Watching carefully, he followed suit, piling his plate high with a mirror of her own. If she didn’t know the strength that lurked beneath that bronze skin and manicured hands, she would’ve called it sweet.

The food was – the food was heavenly. The taste of home, the love of her family, the promise of safety offered in those few bites brought her more joy than she thought possible. She wanted to stretch out the meal forever, as long as time would permit. If this was the last time she would taste such heaven, she wanted to remember it.

Despite her anger at the demon sitting across from her, curiosity embedded itself in her mind. How could he have known? How could he have known this was exactly what she needed, what her soul craved? Just as he’d done with the orange blossoms after Lust, he’d somehow known her mind and soul needing nourishment, and brought it as a gift to her door. Perhaps there would be a price to be paid, someday, but for now, her happiness was enough.

It was ridiculous and Nonna would’ve scolded her dearly, but it was the first semblance of normal she’d had since signing her name over to Pride. The meal sent flashbacks of the time she’d spent after Lust had invaded her mind; the days she’d spent lying in bed, a stranger in her own body, while Wrath sat like a comforting guardian demon. They hadn’t spoken, but he’d delivered her meals thrice daily, and never left her side unless to fetch her clothes from his mysterious source, or to give her privacy if she’d asked. He’d even brought her reading materials, though they were filled with battle strategies, not the steamy romances she craved. At the time, she’d thought it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, Wrath was different. Now, she only felt the white-hot flush of shame. Her appetite faded, and she pushed the plate away.

He catalogued her change in mood with a barely perceptible nod of his head. Truly, she had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes she thought he was terrified for her, her witch-blood and mortal heart acting as a beacon for all those whom Pride had made an enemy. Sometimes she thought he wanted to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she begged him for release. Sometimes she thought her presence disgusted him to a never-ending degree. A mystery.

“You need to be careful,” He broke the silence with a warning, as if she treated Hell like a stroll along Sicilian streets.

“It would help if you told me anything.” She hated the petulant near-whine of her voice, but it couldn’t be helped. She had nothing and no-one in the world, but she needed an ally. Or, if she couldn’t have that, information would have to do.

“I’ve already told you too much.” Lies. Complete lies.

Her questioning had bored him, she assumed, as he stood up to go, leaving the remnants of their meal scattered around them. Wrath cast one last look at her before stalking out, taking the shadows with him.

Just as she was about to curse his name, she spotted a bouquet of orange blossoms on the dresser.

Bastard.

---

Let me know if you want to be added to my KOTW tag list!!

Tags: @shadowturtlesstuff @otome-azarada @chococannolii @beccalovesbooksstuff

#princewitch #kingdom of the wicked #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #emilia x wrath #my fics #kotw fic #the thought of wrath slithering up to her door like a fucking cat is SO funny to me you know hes going through it book 2

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noirshadow · 3 years ago

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#winning combination #doesn’t matter what fandom #ao3 #fanfic #to all my fellow writers #fic writing #darklina #slow burn #smut #enemies to lovers #fan fiction #captive prince #feysand #kotw #jurdan

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prrcyjacksons · 3 years ago

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hi!!! where can one find princewitch fanfiction??

Hello anon:)

I haven't seen a lot of PrinceWitch fics around but @witching-by-the-willow has two - Bittersweet and Weapon Room Waltz. Go check em out and give her some love<3

There are two other ones that I've come across (I haven't read them yet) but heard great praise for - Slithered here from eden by @city-of-fae and Divine by loving by @goldbooksblack :)

If anyone finds/knows other princewitch fics, please feel free to add on!

#anons my beloved #asks #kotw #kotc #princewitch #fics

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shadowturtlesstuff · 4 years ago

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Taylor swift

so.. ive recently become obsessed with her music and im catching up on it all. she’s so talented, and inspiring, so its made me want to go through her songs associate them with characters or books and then write fics, so if there is any song in particular you love or already have character ideas for send me an ask! tell the the song and character and ill try and write a fic for it! it can be 1984, reputation, lover, folklore and evermore.

#Taylor swift #Music #fics #cressworth #tog #acotar #serpent and dove #kotw #sjtr #tfota #soc #any books or character and any song i dont mind what you pick #its an exuse to listen to her not that i need one #asks #asks open #as i write this im watching reputation tour on netlfix

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mysmolchildrendeservehappiness · 6 years ago

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Steve was confused.

He was tired.

He was under stress and right in this moment he was absolutely distraught by the enigma that was in front of him.

Anthony Edward Stark. Genius, Billionaire, Activist, Philantropist.

#kotw #cps fics #frostiron #ironfrost #au

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witching-by-the-willow · 3 years ago

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OH MY GOD SAARAH, AJAKAHSJAHHS I GENUINELY LOVE YOU FOR WRITING THIS AAAAAAAAAH

AND YOU HAD HER MAKE HOT CHOCOLATE AS WELL-

Okay, it's canon now. Hot chocolate is their thing and people can pry this belief out of my cold dead hands.

"Good girl."

"You will be my downfall, Emilia di Carlo".

“I am just deciding what the best strategy is to ravish my wife until the sun rises without her slipping out of my bed.”

In my defense, I was screaming at that ending too, so much suffering ugh. BUT I absolutely do not regret making you read this series because how else would we have got this masterpiece? ✨

When you said you were saving one of my asks for something, this one came to mind, but by that point, I was thoroughly convinced that this ask had disappeared somewhere along the way, Tumblr has been doing that lately. But oh lord, it was so worth the wait. 😌

MY FELLOW PRINCEWITCH CLOWNS COME SEE THIS BESTIES! @ssardothien @bookologist @quinlars @aurips @evolving-dreamer @sirendeepity @kingandfireheart @zombichlerka @thatfangirltasha @feysandfeels @lost-in-fictionn @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @dashedwithromance @godscursedd @moononastring @rubyriveraqueen @lizziebxnnet @owensesandlunels @sagureads

Concept: Princewitch Kitchen Smut. On a table or counter top.

OKAY SO YEAH I WASNT GONNA TELL YOU I FINISHED KOTC UNTIL AFTER I FINISHED THIS BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW BECAUSE I WAS FLABBERGASTED BY THE ENDING ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS WEE BLURB THAT ENDED UP BEING LIKE 1.5K AND YEAH🤡FUCK YOU FOR MAKING ME READ THIS SERIES

Also this isn’t edited so🤡enjoy

“Lurking is considered to be rude.”

She knew he had been standing at the doorway for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. It didn’t surprise her that he followed her, she should have known that the war general would have been a light sleeper, sneaking out of bed was a foolish move.

Emilia had woken up during the late hours of the night, the small light shining in through the open balcony doors shone onto Wrath’s sleeping figure. The sheets pooled at his waist, his bronzed, chiselled skin on display. She could have sat there, propped up on her elbow and stared at him all night but she felt restless, her body itching to seek something familiar. She had pressed a chaste kiss on his lips and rolled out of bed, slipping on his black tunic that laid on the floor and slipped out of the room to escape to the kitchen.

She didn’t doubt for a second that he knew her every move from the moment she woke up.

“Sneaking out of bed without a proper goodbye is also considered rude, my lady.”

Emilia couldn’t help her lips tug upwards. “I would have returned eventually.”

“I can never take chances with you, who knows what you are up to these days.” Wrath commented lightly, his eyes admiring the sight in front of him. His tunic brushing against her bare thighs, her scent overwhelming his senses and his love looking so…comfortable in his home, like she finally found where she belonged.

“Sounds like you are quite insecure, my prince.” She teased, glancing at him over her shoulder in time to see him raise his brows in amusement.

“Insecure about what, pray tell.”

“How long has it been since a woman has warmed your bed? Maybe you are worried you aren’t up to your…old standards.” Her attention on the batch of milk she was currently boiling, her lips pressed together to conceal her smile.

“It sounded like you enjoyed my old standards plenty earlier.” His voice was low and gruff. She resisted the urge to shiver under his intense gaze, she could practically feel his eyes on her back.

“Hm, did I?” She hummed, reaching to grab two mugs from the cupboards. She had made too much hot chocolate for one person anyways, maybe she always knew he would follow her down. “I don’t seem to remember it all that clearly. I believe Fauna told me that the least remarkable ones are easy to forget.”

“Seems like Fauna has had her fair share of selfish lovers in the past.”

“Maybe so.”

He watched her in a content silence as she poured the hot drink into two cups and only when she turned to offer him one did he move from his spot by the doorway. Their fingers brushed briefly and he hid his smile behind the rim of the mug at her small gasp.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, trousers loose and low on his hips with his upper body bare. His hair was tousled yet he didn’t look any less regal or dominating, Emilia noted as she watched him whilst she sipped her drink. It was the most domesticated she had saw him and he still looked like he could bend the world to his will.

It thrilled her.

“Mortals might have some use after all.” He murmured, glancing down at his mug in appreciation.

“Your sweet tooth craves these mortal delights.” Emilia grinned.

His eyes darkened. “It craves more than that.”

She could have sworn her whole body shuddered in anticipation as he stepped closer until the distance between them was non-existent. He placed his mug down on the stove behind her and hers followed suit. His touch ghosted along her hips and her body screamed for him to touch her.

“I wonder,” He spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper yet so commanding at the same time. “If I could taste the sweetness of this mortal drink on your tongue.”

“Please.”

His grin was wicked. “Use your words, my lady.”

“Kiss me.”

A second past before she felt his lips on her own, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her closer and destroy whatever distance was left between them. His tongue darted out, teasing her lower lip and begging for entry. And when she denied him, his hands moved to cup her ass until she gasped, the feeling of his smirk scorched against her lips.

“You are a minx.” He breathed against her lips, his hands travelling under the hem of the tunic until he realised she was wearing nothing but his tunic.

“Are you envious of my ways?” She murmured and couldn’t help but snort when she felt his hands tighten their grip.

“Please do not bring up my brothers when I am about to fuck you on that counter in the next thirty seconds.” He grumbled, his face nuzzled against her neck as his tongue darted out to kiss the spot where his mark branded her skin.

Whatever snarky remark that resided on the tip of her tongue quickly diminished, her mouth parted in an audible gasp and her cheeks flushed deeply at the blunt and crass comment her made.

“I…” Her eyes fluttering shut when she felt his fingers slip between her thighs, grinning like a madman.

“So fucking wet for me, Emilia,” His words whispered against her skin as his fingers began to slowly circle her clit—not enough to tip her over but enough to make her want to scream and beg until he was inside her. “Only for me, hm?”

“Only for you.” She breathed out.

“Say it again.”

“Only for you, Samael.”

He growled at the use of his proper name, and she could have sworn the foundations of the palace shook beneath her but she couldn’t bring herself to care in that moment. “Good girl.”

Before she could even beg for more, he had quickly spun them around and the tunic had been ripped from her body. He pushed her against the counter, her bare skin pressed against the wooden counter as her hands clawed to hold onto something for support. He spread her legs apart and took a step to admire his wife splayed out for him like his own personal midnight snack.

“You will be my downfall, Emilia Di Carlo.” He murmured, almost so quiet that she almost didn’t hear it.

She felt the gentle caress of his hands down her sides before he gripped her hips, savoured the feeling of his lips kissing along her back before he finally sunk into her with one full thrust.

“Gods!” She moaned out, her nails digging into the wood.

“No gods to save you now, witch.” His words spoken in a low, gruff voice that should have scared her but it only excited her more.

Emilia felt her eyes rolling to the back of her head with every powerful thrust, his cock driving into her and hitting spots inside that had her a whimpering, babbling mess for her prince. Her cheek was pressed against the counter, a part of her desperate to see his face and another savouring the pure, animalistic need he was fucking her with that she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything else.

Her cunt clenched around him, her moans most likely loud enough to wake the other residents of the palace but neither of them could bring themselves to care. Not as Wrath wrapped her hair around his hand and tugged her until she was pressed against his chest, the tempo of his hips undisturbed.

“Scream my name, Emilia, be a good girl and tell everyone who made you feel this good.”

Her orgasm washed over her in total pleasure. Her body and muscles tensing as pleasure and desire coursed through her veins and heated her skin as she clung onto him as though he was her lifeline. She could feel his short, hard thrusts and let her body relish in the pleasure as he reached his release inside her.

Moments of silence passed, just their sweat-sheen bodies and heavy pants to focus on as they grounded themselves until Wrath’s hand untangled from her hair and tilted her chin so he could capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss.

“Someone could see us.” She whispered to him.

“No one but me gets to see you like this,” He muttered, thumb lightly caressing her cheek as he spoke. “I promise you that.”

And in a flash she found they were no longer standing naked in the kitchen, but now tangled between the sheets of the bed they were sharing earlier. Or at least she was, Wrath stood at the end of the bed, admiring the view.

“You look as though you are scheming.” She commented, nibbling on her lower lip and the movement didn’t slip past his watchful gaze.

“I am just deciding what the best strategy is to ravish my wife until the sun rises without her slipping out of my bed.” He answered with a matching grin.

“Hm, you’re wrong.”

He raised his brows.

“It’s our bed now.”

#fic rec #princewitch #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #kingdom of the wicked #kingdom of the cursed #saarah my beloathed #I AM A PROUD ENEMY RIGHT NOW 🤌#mutuals my beloved #kotc #kotw

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princeofsinweek · 5 months ago

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Day 3: Envy/Games & Riddles

Header by @afandomangel

Mood Board

Day 3, "Games & Riddles." by @badomenwhump

Fics

The Games We Play For Love - Envy x OC!Thalia @afandomangel

Symbols of Our Love - Envy x Nb!Reader by @afandomangel

Present - Envy x Wife!Reader by @litnerdwrites

Headcanon

KOTW Incorrect Quotes pt 2 - Envy x Camilla by @riverkaterina

#kingdom of the wicked #kotw #princeofsinweek #prince of sin #kotw fanart #kotw imagines #kotw angst #kotw fluff #prince of envy #kotw x reader #prince envy x reader #prince envy x oc #prince envy x camilla #throne of the fallen imagines #throne of the fallen

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celticbisexual · 2 years ago

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i’ve been trying to write a magnus archives/skulduggery pleasant fic and it’s going pretty well, but the problem i find myself stumbling upon is the goddamn timeline.

The magnus archives has a clear-cut, planned out timeline. we have dates for most of the events in the story. we know exactly when everything happened.

SP? Who fuckin knows. Valkyrie’s age changes. we have no idea where the the short stories fit into this. the timeline lost the plot around KOTW I think.

although i do eventually get to write Detective Inspector Me meets Alice Tonner so that’ll be fun

#skulduggery pleasant #the magnus archives

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litnerdwrites · 3 months ago

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Looks like the people have spoken, so I have decided that I will be writing this. It might be a couple of weeks, since I have another fic for KOTW that I'm writing and exams coming up. However, I might write some short Nesta one shots here and there, because I want to practice writing Nesta properly. Anyone one who wants to be tagged in either this, or any other small Nesta fic I do, let me know.

Here's a short, pro Nesta fic idea; Nesta meets a sailor in one of the taverns she frequents, and after some small talk, makes the decision to pursue her dream of travelling. She leaves after saying goodbye to Elain and Feyre, but largely ignoring the rest of the IC, which Feyre doesn't like. At first, shares letters with her sisters, mostly small talk, and minor updates. However, after a while, Feyre decide Nesta's 'well enough' and healed so she can 'come home'.

She refuses.

She tries for a while, only for her and Elain to become increasingly distressed at Nesta's refusal to return, until eventually, there's radio silent between them. Then, about a decade or two later, the IC are desperate to find the Trove, and knowing Nesta won't come willingly, send Azriel/Morrigan to get her. They find out where she is, winnow there, grab her, and winnow back to the river hous, where Cassian is in shambles after not seeing her, Elain and Feyre run to hug her as if they didn't have her essentially kidnapped, only for Nesta to shove them away, pissed.

An argument starts, where the IC yell at Nesta, Nesta yells at them, and eventually, the door opens as another woman barges in, wearing a glowing friendship bracelets and matching robe to Nesta, and yelling at Feyre and Elain for ruining her (Nesta's) wedding day.

What do you think? Should I write this? Any theories as to where this is going?

#anti inner circle #nesta deserves better #anti ic #anti rhysand #anti mor #anti cassian #anti amren #pro nesta archeron #anti acosf #pro nesta #nesta archeron deserves better

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witching-by-the-willow · 3 years ago

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Weapon-room Waltz

DESCRIPTION: Listen, I wanted to write a little filler scene in Chapter 20 when they were dancing, because I stay up at night thinking about what Wrath was about to say to Emilia before Anir interrupted (😡). So, until Kerri decides to show me some mercy and tell us what he thinks she is, this will give me some sort of peace. I hope.

This fic doesn’t have any major spoilers. The text in bold italics is straight from Kingdom of the Cursed by Kerri Maniscalco, with slight changes in pronouns to fit the third-person narrative.

Hope you enjoy, feedback is very welcome. ❤

Right step back, follow with left. Emilia kept repeating the movement Wrath had taught her in her head, still worried about stepping on his toes and making a fool of herself. Or worse yet, giving him an opportunity to gloat.

Dancing in a room filled with weapons with a half-naked partner should have felt odd, but instead, it felt serene. Right. She could have been swaying here for minutes or hours and not noticed the difference.

Wrath’s voice through their maneuvering brought her out of her thoughts as she looked up at him, mischief shining in his eyes. She took a deep breath and said a quick prayer to all the goddesses to bless her with her enough restraint to keep from slamming her heeled shoe on his foot. There was no reason for him to look so pleased.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down at her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented at dancing and killing, and forget everything else. Except for how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself; she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down to the small of her back, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.”

The warmth of him, his praise, the hard muscle beneath her fingertips...all had her swaying nearer. Wrath placed his lips against her ear.

“You’re exquisite.”

She froze, acutely aware of the flush currently making its way down her neck. Curse him for having this effect on her. Putting up with a smug Wrath was the last thing she wanted to do.

As if the goddesses had decided to do her a favour, a memory from their first meeting in the cave came back to her as inspiration.

She smirked as she brought her own lips close to his ear and imitated his tone in her one whispered word.

“Liar.”

Wrath pulled back a little- though she noticed his hand stayed at her back, keeping them close- and arched a brow. He had picked up on his favourite word being used on him, just as she'd hoped. “I speak the truth and only the truth, my lady. Or do you have some inhibitions about your own captivating beauty.”

She willed her voice to remain even, trying not to give away how his words made her want to hide her face in a pillow and scream with delight. After she’d kissed him senseless. No, focus.

“Oh no, You’re Highness. I have no doubts about my allure.” His other eyebrow shot up. “But I seem to recall a certain demon Prince finding me quite repulsive not too long ago.”

She saw the precise moment he remembered what she was talking about and bit back a giggle as he tried to come up with something to say.

She would spare him the effort. For the moment. Doing her best mimicry of his deep, smooth voice, she started. “You’d need to be the last creature in all the realms combined for me to want you, witch. Even then it might not be enough to tempt me.” She paused to observe him as he huffed, the sound awfully close to a laugh. “I believe those were your exact words, Your Highness.”

“That was before I knew you. And to be fair, you looked quite haggard at the time.”

Now, it was her turn to raise a brow. “Thank you.”

“What I meant was, that was before I knew you. Or saw you in other...forms.”

“And?”

He closed his eyes, seemingly wanting to vanish in a mass of smoke. “And I might have changed my mind.”

Good. But she was not quite done yet. “So you admit defeat, then?”

His eyes flew open as he frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“You were wrong. And failed to fight off my charm. This is the moment all the realms have been waiting for. The mighty General of War has lost a battle of wills. Hell ought to bow down to me for achieving this feat."

Wrath was fighting a smile, and for some reason, it gave her visceral joy. "You are entirely too proud of yourself, my lady. But your dramatics aside, I would argue I'm the victor here." His smile slipped free at her scowl, and he pressed a chaste kiss to her nose. "Look at me, in a room full of lethal weapons, dancing with an equally lethal fiancée, who has gone from miserably failing her assassination attempt at me to performing a magnificent Waltz with me. I am perfectly content right here, and if that is your victory, then I will gladly lose to you everyday."

Emilia swore she could have melted from the warmth in his eyes. His words were making any wall she'd managed to put up against him crumble to the floor of this cursed room. Stupid Prince. Stupid spectacular Prince.

He bent down slowly, much too slowly for her liking, and met her lips with his in a tender kiss. Not hurried or fueled by hunger. This kiss was gentle, leisurely in a way that felt like they'd done this a thousand times, and would have time to do it a thousand more.

She was contemplating running her tongue across his bottom lip and deepening their kiss when someone cleared their throat loudly, making her jerk away from their embrace.

"I hate to interrupt, Your Majesty, but I believe you made sure your Palace had a thing called Bedchambers for such activities. And Is this a godsdamn ballroom now?” Anir propped himself against the doorjamb, arms crossed. A lazy grin spread across his face as he batted his lashes. “Will you be teaching this new technique to all of the soldiers, your highness, or just us pretty ones?”

With what appeared to be immense effort, Wrath tore his gaze from her, but didn’t release them from their position. “A good fighter is skilled in weapons. A great fighter is skilled in dance. Perhaps I’ll appoint you as the new dance master.”

“While that sounds titillating, I do come with news from the dungeon.” Anir pushed himself up from the spot where he’d casually leaned, his expression serious. “It’s the mortal.”

~~~~~

Note: Oh, lord. I'm so insecure about any scene that involves romance, mostly because I am clueless in ✨matters of love✨ So, please do tell me if it was bearable, and if you have any tips for me, I'm all ears! Once again, feedback of all kind is welcome! ❤❤

@ssardothien @ghostiewriter @feysandfeels @city-of-fae @kingandfireheart @evolving-dreamer @bookologist @godscursedd @sirendeepity @quinlars @gwynlaithlunel @tea-istic @polaroidsintheocean @lost-in-fictionn @rubyriveraqueen @dadopedirectioner @trowen @effervescent-bean @zombichlerka @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @wrathscannoli @lysandra-ghost-leopard @tessvirtch @the-introverted-reader @leviorsa @readingbooksbymoonlight

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the tags, let me know!

#kingdom of the cursed #kingdom of the wicked #prince wrath #emilia di carlo #princewitch #kotw #kotc #my fic #fanfiction #cannoli lovers club #cara mia cult #kerri maniscalco #niki writes

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