#prince sky x reader

[solar-wing]

⚣ Heroes of You and Me 💧

⚣🌊 A/N → The way you people get series and 20k+ fics out of me needs to be studied. How was a request SUPPOSED to be a one-shot, turn into a whole multi-part fic. Maybe I didn't feel like cramming over 20k words into one fic again. (and look how that went). But lemme me tell you something, cause I warned yall how I feel about writing for IRL characters. If Sky's actor who's name I won't specify for fear of his pr team getting a ping from this and showing it to him ever posts a reaction of him reading THIS or ANY fanfiction, this and ME will disappear off the face of the earth. I am not above going into hiding and living off the land. anyways, enjoy! MUAH 😘 WARNINGS: Slight Canon Divergence | Emotional Angst | Growing Curiosity and Feelings | Slow-Burn (fuck yall cause I hate slow burns but also still love you) | Jealousy |

⚣🌊 Summary → Magic, monsters, and bad decisions—The new fairies just wanted a peaceful first day considering how much everything had changed for them recently, but now they're dodging Burned Ones, losing magical rings, and trying not to die. Welcome to the Otherworld. What else could go wrong? Wait...don't ask that.

⚣🌊 Words → 26.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🌊

Sky made his way through the steel gates that led him into the courtyard of Alfea College, the late morning sun casting warm rays across the stone pathways. The campus was alive with the hustle of move-in day, the energy palpable as students reunited, chatted, and navigated their way to their respective dorms. Sky slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in the familiar scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant hum of chatter.

As he surveyed the scene, a familiar sense of unease settled in his chest—a mix of unresolved tensions from last year and the pressure of the responsibilities awaiting him this year. He pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand: getting through another year at Alfea.

‘Another year’, he thought, his gaze sweeping over the bustling scene before him. Despite the familiar surroundings, there was a tight knot of tension in his chest, a lingering unease that he couldn’t quite shake. It could be the anticipation of his new role as a squad captain, which Silva had been kind enough to only inform him about a couple of weeks before the start of the school year. Whatever it was, he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

As he walked though the courtyard though, Sky couldn’t help but notice the contrasting scenes around him. All the smiling faces of friends reuniting after a whole three months apart, animatedly talking to each other about their vacations and showing pictures and funny videos on their phones. Then, there were those who weren’t talking to anyone, but taking every moment they could to take a ‘aesthetic’ photo so they could update their Insta stories. That was his generation for you.

Just as Sky started making his way toward the Specialist hall, a few familiar voices called out to him.

"Sky! There he is, our fearless leader!" Timmy’s voice rang out, pulling Sky from his thoughts. He turned to see a group of his old friends waving him over, their faces lit up with excitement.

Sky couldn’t help but smile as he approached them, his unease momentarily lifting. "Hey, guys," he greeted, offering a firm handshake to each of them. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too, man," Brandon said, grinning widely. "We were just saying how we were wondering when you’d show up. Thought maybe you’d decided to bail on us."

Sky chuckled, shaking his head. "Bail? You know me better than that. Just taking my time this morning."

While they were catching up, Sky’s attention was momentarily drawn away from the conversation as his eyes scanned the courtyard. It was instinctual, almost reflexive—years of training had taught him to be aware of his surroundings at all times. But what caught his eye this time wasn’t a potential threat; it was another student, possibly a Specialist judging by their build, looking very lost.

Without thinking, Sky patted Brandon on the shoulder, interrupting their conversation. "Hold on a sec," he said, his focus shifting entirely to the struggling student.

He started to make his way toward the guy, acting on an impulse of empathy and something else he couldn’t name. He remembered his first day at Alfea, the mix of excitement and nervousness, and how a small gesture of help could make all the difference. As he approached, he was about to call out when he saw someone else reach the guy first—Sam Harvey, an Earth fairy and one of Professor Harvey’s kids.

“Hey, you must be Y/N. I’m Sam,” the Earth fairy greeted with a warm smile, holding his hand out for introduction.

“Nice to meet you, and yep, that’s me. I’m guessing you're the one Headmistress Dowling assigned to show me around?”

As Sky slowed his approach, the realization that his assumption was wrong—that the guy was indeed not a Specialist but a fairy—stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t quite place why he felt a twinge of disappointment, but it was clear Sam had things under control. Just as he was about to turn back to his friends, something else caught his eye—a flash of ginger hair, standing in the middle of the courtyard with her bags. She also looked lost, her gaze scanning the courtyard as if she was waiting for someone.

When no one seemed to come, she grabbed her bags and started walking toward the Specialist Hall.

Sky hesitated for a moment, torn between going back to his friends and helping the girl who looked like she was struggling. The decision came easily enough—his natural instinct to help others always overrode everything else. He quickly started toward the girl, his strides purposeful but not hurried.

As he approached her, Sky noticed the way she was carrying herself—there was a certain determination in her step, but it was undercut by the uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced around. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, too focused on trying to figure out her way.

He didn’t quite know how to stop her and offer his help, so he just went with the first thing that came to mind.

“Wow, you are so lost,” he said, falling into step next to her.

Observational.

“I’m impressed with your confidence in the face of complete ignorance.”

Tactful…maybe?

“The issue is, you’re overcommitted. I mean, you’re essentially running.”

Yeah, there’s no word for this one. Maybe an ice cream truck will fall from the sky and save him. His only hope at this point.

“And now that I’m here, you can’t give me the satisfaction of turning around—”

Of course, throughout this entire questionable interaction, the specialist failed to notice her brows furrowing and the even more tense aura of her body language. Men…

“I don’t need help,” she interjected, saving everyone from witnessing a train wreck. A true hero, this girl is. “But thanks.”

“I don’t remember offering it,” he said with a slightly amused breath. “So presumptuous, you must be a fairy.”

“I am a fairy,” she responded, reluctantly continuing the dialogue while still trying to find where she was supposed to go.

As their conversation continued, neither noticed the approaching figure from behind or the eyes watching them from a distance. As Sky was pointing to the fairy hall, Riven, another Specialist and old friend of Sky’s, walked up to his friend from behind, surprising him.

“Quit perving on the first years,” Riven said with his usual condescending tone.

Sky, used to his friend's antics, wasn’t phased by it but did turn to acknowledge him.

“Riv, just give me one second. Yeah?”

“Why? You gonna chase her?” Riven asked, leaning to the side to look past him.

Sky turned his head to see that indeed, the girl had taken off, heading right for the fairy hall. He let out a disappointed sigh, though it wasn’t as bad as the one he felt earlier, which he was still confused about.

“Nope,” he replied before his friend tackled him with a hug. The two boys laughed and caught up while meeting up with the other Specialists and making their way over to the training grounds by the pond.

Sky and Riven made their way to the training grounds by the pond, the sounds of their laughter fading as they approached the more serious atmosphere of the Specialist area. The training grounds were a familiar sight, with well-worn paths leading to various stations where students practiced everything from hand-to-hand combat to more specialized weapons training.

As they entered the area, Silva, the head of the Specialists, was already there, barking orders at a group of first-year students who were fumbling through a basic drill. His sharp eyes caught sight of Sky and Riven, and he gave a nod of acknowledgment before turning his attention back to the recruits.

“Looks like the newbies are getting a warm welcome,” Riven commented, his tone laced with sarcasm as he watched a particularly nervous student nearly drop his weapon.

“Silva’s always had a way of making sure everyone knows what’s expected,” Sky replied, his gaze shifting to the group. “We were all in their shoes once.”

“Yeah, but some of us didn’t look like we were about to wet ourselves,” Riven shot back with a smirk.

Sky chuckled, but his focus was already shifting. He had a responsibility to these students now, not just as a fellow Specialist but as their squad captain. The weight of it settled more heavily on his shoulders with each passing moment, but he knew better than to let it show.

“Let’s get warmed up,” Sky suggested, nodding towards the sparring rings where a few other upperclassmen were already engaged in drills.

Riven raised an eyebrow, clearly catching on to Sky’s shift in tone. “You’re all business today, aren’t you?”

“Just focused,” Sky replied, his voice steady. “It’s going to be a long year.”

Riven shrugged, though he didn’t argue. “Alright, let’s see if you’ve still got it, Captain.”

Did anyone else catch that foreshadowing? Why did that feel like foreshadowing? Uh uh, nope. Take it back, take it back right now!

As Silva continued to give introductory speeches and expectations to the first-years, the rest of the returning Specialists were all warming up, getting back into rhythm after what felt like a long summer. The familiar sounds of weapons clashing, feet shuffling against the ground, and the occasional grunt of effort filled the air, creating a symphony of discipline and focus.

Sky took a deep breath, letting the energy of the training grounds settle over him. This was where he thrived—in the midst of the action, surrounded by the familiar rhythm of drills and the unspoken camaraderie among his fellow Specialists. The weight of his new role as squad captain was still there, but it felt more manageable now, woven into the fabric of his responsibilities.

Riven, on the other hand, seemed content to stretch out the pre-drill banter for as long as possible. He gave Sky a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “So, Captain, any big plans for how you’re going to whip these new recruits into shape?”

Sky rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You know Silva’s got that covered. I’m just here to make sure they don’t trip over their own feet too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Riven quipped, his tone light, though his eyes flicked over to the first-years with a more serious glint. “Looks like we’ve got a few who might need a miracle to make it through the first week.”

While they continued sparring with each other, Riven found moments to keep teasing Sky—not only about his new role but also about the ginger-haired girl he caught him with in the courtyard. A joke about Sky being smitten after one chat, and another about how gingers are amazing shags.

Classy, Riven. Classy.

But, of course, Sky, ever the romantic, couldn’t help but feel there was something about her. Yet, his mind couldn’t seem to stay away from the fairy he had been approaching before Sam stepped in.

After their last spar ended with Sky knocking Riven on his butt, they decided to call it. Well, more like Riven decided to skip the rest of the session to go have a smoke in the woods, asking Sky to distract his ‘aggro father figure’ so he didn’t get caught—and thus expelled.

Again, very classy, Riven. Please note the extreme sarcasm.

Though he hadn’t planned to, Sky ended up doing exactly as Riven asked when Silva pulled him into an impromptu spar, using him as an example of what first-years could become, legacy admissions or not, if they showed up and did the work. But then, one of the students had to chuckle, and now they were all getting a vivid story about how Silva lost his father to a Burned One when he was only ten years old.

No one could imagine what it was like for a 10-year-old boy to watch the light and life drain from his father’s body—then to be the one to put their parent down, knowing it was either them or you. A few of the students bowed their heads, trying not to appear affected or ‘weak’ on their first day. But it was understandable why they would be.

Burned Ones had been part of the Otherworld for as long as anyone could remember. They were creatures with humanoid figures that moved faster than a car and were just as ruthless as wild animals. Their charred and blackened appearances looked as if they had just walked out of a raging fire, somehow still alive, but burnt to a crisp, with cracks that glowed like embers, revealing the fiery torment that raged within them. Their limbs were long and skeletal, their fingers ending in claws sharp enough to tear through flesh and bone. But it was their faces that truly terrified—hollowed, with sunken eyes that glowed with a sickly, menacing light, and mouths filled with jagged teeth, ever ready to rend and consume.

The Burned Ones were more than just monsters—they were the stuff of nightmares, their very existence etched into the collective fear of society. Some said they were the remnants of an ancient curse, while others believed they were born from dark magic, a spell that left them behind as twisted remnants of the souls consumed by it. Their appearance haunted the minds of those who dared to venture too close to the shadowed places they roamed.

In every village, town, and city across the realms, the story of the Burned Ones had been passed down through generations. It was a tale told with hushed voices around campfires, a warning to the young and old alike. The Burned Ones were said to be the vengeful spirits of those who had fallen to the darkest depths of magic, their bodies scorched and twisted by the flames of their own corruption. They were symbols of dark times, death, and destruction—a reminder of the consequences of straying too far into the forbidden realms of the magical world. Parents would tell their children to behave, to stay within the bounds of what was known and safe, lest they suffer the same fate as those who became like the ones they feared.

As Silva so beautifully (or questionably and concerningly) put it to Dane, the first-year Specialist who dared chuckle, “Be thankful you’ve never seen a Burned One. But if you do, pray that it kills you, so the ones you love will not have to.”

The other first-years all looked a bit put off—nervous, terrified, or finding something far off to focus on instead. It was clear Silva’s story had shaken them. Dane, who had initially met Silva's gaze with unflinching defiance, now held a stance that communicated fear despite his best efforts to hide it.

Was it a bit extreme? Maybe. But it was also unnecessary.

No one has seen a Burned One in years. Yeah, they’ve got the protective barrier, but if the last sighting was more than a decade ago, then what’s all the fuss about?

Just as Silva finished his tale, a scream echoed from the forest, cutting through the tension like a knife. Riven.

It’s always fucking Riven…

The tension from the training grounds lingered in the air, following Sky as he headed back toward his dorm in the Specialists' Hall with his friend, who was a bit more shaken up than he’d liked to admit, yet still trying to act as if he was fine. Whatever he saw was enough to spark a wildfire of rumors, spreading to every corner of Alfea, and it wasn’t long before the news traveled to the heart of the school—the Headmistress’s office.

Y/N stood outside Headmistress Farah Dowling’s office, the cool stone walls of Alfea surrounding him like a protective barrier. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the meeting ahead. His thoughts were a whirlwind, full of the uncertainties that had plagued him since the decision to come to this school, and even before that.

The office door creaked open as Y/N hesitated, a warm voice beckoning him inside.

“Come in, Y/N,” the Headmistress called, her tone gentle yet authoritative.

Y/N stepped into the office, taking in the room’s comforting atmosphere. Shelves lined with ancient tomes and magical artifacts adorned the walls, while the large stained glass window behind Farah’s desk let in the soft, natural light of the morning sun. Farah herself sat behind her desk, her expression calm, yet her eyes held a depth that made Y/N feel as though she could see straight through to the core of him.

“Please, have a seat,” she offered, gesturing to the chair across from her.

Y/N nodded, moving to sit down, his movements slightly stiff from nerves. As he got settled in the seat, waiting for the Headmistress to begin, the weight of everything hit him hard. He thought about Sam, his new roommate and mentor, and how, despite his helpfulness, Y/N still felt like a fish out of water. Sam had been kind and welcoming, showing him around and making sure he didn’t get lost, but there was still an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity.

His thoughts drifted to the other students he’d seen around campus—their easy smiles, their confident strides. They all seemed to belong here, like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Y/N, on the other hand, felt like he was constantly on the verge of tripping over his own feet. What if they found out he didn’t belong here? What if they discovered he was just an outsider pretending to be something he wasn’t?

He remembered walking past the training grounds, seeing a few students already practicing. Their movements were fluid, confident, like they were born with swords in their hands. Strangely enough, it reminded him of home for a moment, but then, he remembered these guys were using swords, not guns, and once again, he felt out of place. He could control water, sure, but combat? Strategy? He’d only ever learned those things from his dad, and even then, they were more about survival than thriving in a place like this.

But he was here now, and there was no turning back. He had to make this work. He had to prove—to himself more than anyone—that he could belong here, that he could make something of himself at Alfea.

The silence stretched for a moment as the Headmistress sorted through files before finally speaking, breaking the deafening quiet.

“How was your trip? Painless, I hope?” she asked.

Y/N went to respond, though his words seemed to get caught in his mouth, thinking back to the ‘convenient’ location Miss Dowling had instructed for him and his father to travel to. Close enough to where they resided, but far enough to hide from any prying eyes.

Y/N forced a smile, though it felt hollow. “It was... fine,” he replied, his voice betraying the turmoil just beneath the surface. The journey to Alfea had been anything but painless—not in the physical sense, but in the emotional weight it carried. The memory of his father standing in the middle of the clearing while he traveled through the magical gateway Miss Dowling had set up for him lingered in his mind. The man who had raised him, taught him everything he knew, and kept him and his secrets safe, had watched him leave. It felt a little too surreal and heart-aching for Y/N’s taste.

It was like the feeling of being left behind, only this time around, he was the one leaving and not the one being left. And he wasn’t sure he knew how to cope with that.

Of course, his dad, tough as nails, didn’t shed any tears, but it was still clear as day how hard it was on him too, seeing Y/N step through that gateway, giving him a soldier’s salute as a final goodbye before the doorway closed behind him.

As much as Y/N wanted to be here—needed to be here—the thought of leaving his father behind gnawed at him. His dad had been his anchor, his rock, and now he was an unknown number of miles away, alone. Y/N’s chest tightened with the familiar pang of guilt, the same guilt that had clung to him since the day he’d agreed to come to Alfea.

He remembered the look in his father’s eyes as they said their goodbyes—a mixture of pride, worry, and something else that Y/N couldn’t quite place. It was as if his father knew this was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier for either of them. The memory of his dad’s last words echoed in his mind: “You’ve got this, kid. I’ll be here when you come home.”

Got what, though? Y/N didn’t even know what he was supposed to be ready for. All he knew was that he had to learn control—real control—over his powers before they controlled him. He could still remember the floodwater rushing through the halls, the panic in his father’s eyes as he tried to contain the situation. And the fear—Y/N’s own fear that he could have hurt someone, that he could have hurt his dad.

Yeah, so much for painless.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing a more convincing smile onto his face as he looked up at Farah. “It was definitely an experience,” he said, trying to infuse some lightness into his voice. “The, uh, magical gateway was a nice touch. Makes traveling feel a bit more... grand.”

Farah smiled gently, but Y/N could see the understanding in her eyes. She wasn’t fooled by his attempt at humor, and it made him feel a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability.

“I’m glad the journey went smoothly,” Farah replied, her tone warm but measured. “I know leaving home is never easy, especially under such... unusual circumstances.”

Y/N nodded, his smile fading slightly as he looked down at his hands, which were clenched in his lap. “Yeah, it’s been... a lot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’ve never been away from home or at least my dad like this. And with everything that happened, it’s hard not to feel...”

“Out of place?” Farah offered gently.

Y/N looked up at her, surprised by how easily she seemed to understand. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Like I’m in over my head.”

Farah leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady and reassuring. “It’s perfectly normal to feel that way, Y/N. Alfea is a place of learning, but it’s also a place of growth. You’re not expected to have all the answers right now, or to have everything figured out. That’s why you’re here—to learn, to grow, and to discover your own path.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her words hitting closer to home than he expected. He wanted to believe her, wanted to feel like he could find his place here. But the weight of his powers, the fear of what he could do if he lost control again, was a constant shadow hanging over him.

“I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Farah’s expression softened even more, and she reached out, resting her hand lightly on his. “You won’t, Y/N. I can see the strength in you, even if you can’t see it yourself yet. It’s okay to be afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back. You’re here because you have potential, and we’re going to help you reach it and refine it.”

Y/N felt a lump form in his throat, and he nodded, unable to find the words to respond. Farah’s kindness, her unwavering belief in him, was something he wasn’t used to. It made him want to try, to push through the fear and doubt, if only to prove her right.

“Thank you, Headmistress,” he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion.

Farah gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re welcome, Y/N. You can think of Alfea as your new home. You have people here who want to help you, who want to see you succeed. Don’t be afraid to lean on them when you need to.”

Another moment of silence passed between them, with Y/N rubbing his hands up and down his legs to stir his nerves.

“I trust Sam has been treating you well, yes?” Farah asked.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded again. “Yeah, he’s been great. Really helpful, showing me around and making sure I don’t get lost.”

Farah smiled at that, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Sam is one of our most dependable students. He’s Professor Harvery’s son who you’ll meet when taking your potions, botany, and natural magics courses. I figured he’d be a good fit to help you adjust.”

Y/N offered a small smile in return. “He’s definitely made things easier. It’s just... a lot to take in, you know?”

“I can imagine,” Farah replied, her expression softening. “It’s a big change, but you’re handling it well. And remember, you have people like Sam—and me—here to support you.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit of the tension in his chest ease. “Thanks, Headmistress. That means a lot.”

Farah gave him an encouraging smile before leaning back in her chair. “Now, let’s talk about what you can expect this year.”

Y/N straightened up slightly, eager to shift the conversation toward something more concrete. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering about classes and... well, everything really. I want to make sure I’m prepared.”

Farah nodded, understanding the unspoken concerns in his words. “Of course. Your schedule has been tailored to help you develop your skills while also giving you a solid foundation in the broader aspects of magical education. You’ll start with the basics, learning how to use your magic slowly, but safely in a controlled environment. And, to reiterate as I did with the student I had right before you, when I say slowly, I do mean it. Magic can be dangerous and I don’t want you to cause yourself any harm in trying to prove something. But, I do believe you’ll find the subjects we have laid out for you not only challenging but also rewarding.”

Y/N listened intently, absorbing the information. He appreciated the Headmistress’s approach—firm but understanding. It was clear that she valued safety and caution, which was something Y/N could respect, especially given his own fears about his powers.

Farah continued, “You’ve already demonstrated a remarkable degree of mastery for someone your age. That’s not something we see often, especially with powers as complex as yours.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, not expecting the compliment. “Thank you. My dad... he’s been a big help. He helped me learn how to control my powers enough from a young age to hide them for obvious reasons,” Y/N nervously laughed, but Farah’s warm smile kept him at ease. “He used a lot of techniques he learned from the military. Breathing exercises, disciplinary lessons, staying calm under pressure... it’s all pretty much drilled into me. No pun intended.”

Farah’s eyes softened with understanding. “Your father sounds like a wise man. It’s clear he’s done an excellent job helping you harness your abilities. Water fairies like yourself often have been known to struggle with control, given the fluid and ever-changing nature of water itself. But you’ve managed to find a balance.”

Y/N looked down at his hands, which had finally unclenched. The memories of his father’s training sessions flashed through his mind—hours spent practicing, focusing, and learning to control the water that flowed through him like second nature. “He just wanted to make sure I didn’t put anyone... or myself at risk.”

“And he succeeded,” Farah smiled warmly, a sense of reassurance in her gaze. “You’ll also have regular meetings with me to discuss your progress and address any concerns. And you can always reach out if you need help with anything.”

Y/N was about to respond when the door to the office burst open, startling both of them. A Specialist student, out of breath and with a look of urgency on his face, stood in the doorway. Farah immediately tensed, her calm demeanor shifting to one of alertness.

“Headmistress, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s been an incident in the forest,” the student panted. “ Professor Silva asked me to inform you immediately.”

Farah’s eyes narrowed slightly, her mind clearly processing the information quickly. She rose from her seat, her authority evident in the way she carried herself.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.

“I’m not sure, but Mr. Silva said it was urgent and asked for you and Professor Harvey to come quickly. In the forest near the training grounds.”

Farah’s expression grew more serious as she turned to Y/N. “Y/N, we’ll have to continue this conversation later. For now, I need you to stay in the main building and avoid the forest. I’ll have Sam meet you to help you get settled into your dorm.”

Y/N stood up as Farah did, the tension in the room palpable. He felt a strange mix of anxiety and curiosity at the mention of the incident in the forest, but he knew better than to pry.

“Yes, Headmistress,” Y/N replied, his voice steady despite the unease settling in his chest, his discipline from living on a military base immediately kicking in as a response to the headmistress’s authoritative tone.

Farah nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the urgency in her eyes. “Good. I’m sure everything will be fine, but it’s best to be cautious. Stay close to the main building and try to relax for the rest of the day.”

Well, that was a bit ironic considering she looked anything but relaxed herself.

As she grabbed her coat from the stand near the door, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in her demeanor. Gone was the gentle, nurturing headmistress; in her place stood a leader, focused and ready to handle whatever was waiting in the forest. The transformation was striking, and for a moment, Y/N felt a mix of admiration and a touch of intimidation. It was a reminder that, beneath the warmth, Farah Dowling was a woman who commanded respect and authority in a world that demanded both.

Y/N nodded, offering a small, appreciative smile. “I will. Thank you, Headmistress.”

Farah gave him one last nod before slipping out of the office, her coat billowing slightly as she moved with purpose down the corridor. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Y/N alone in the quiet office.

As Farah left the room, Y/N lingered for a moment, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over him. The urgency of the situation in the forest hung in the air, but there was something else, too—a sense of unease that he couldn’t quite shake. He knew he had to follow the headmistress’s instructions, but the curiosity gnawed at him. What could be so urgent that it pulled her away from their meeting?

Y/N let out a slow breath, reminding himself that it wasn’t his place to get involved, not yet anyway. He was still the new kid here, barely even unpacked, and already there was so much to take in. His thoughts flicked back to Sam, who had been nothing but helpful since his arrival. Maybe if he found Sam, he could get some guidance on what to do next, or at the very least, some company to distract him from the whirlwind of emotions he was feeling.

He glanced at the door, knowing he should probably try to find his way back to his dorm. But without Sam around to guide him, it felt like navigating a maze. He couldn’t remember the exact turns they’d taken earlier, and the thought of wandering aimlessly through the hallways didn’t exactly appeal to him.

After a brief moment of indecision, Y/N decided it might be worth exploring a bit. If he could find his way back to the dorm on his own, it would be a small victory—proof that he was capable of figuring things out here, even without someone holding his hand.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, stepping out into the hallway. “Time to see if I can actually find my way around this place.”

He took a deep breath and started down the corridor, hoping he’d get lucky and run into someone familiar—or at the very least, a sign pointing him in the right direction.

“Who actually saw the Shepherd’s body?” Terra, an Earth Fairy and Sam’s sister, asked as she held her beverage, talking with two of her freshly acquainted suitemates, Aisha and Musa. Her usual bright tone was tinged with unease, the curiosity and morbid speculation threading through the conversation like a dark undercurrent. “Maybe he was just old. People get old, die. We all die.”

“That old-age decapitation really sneaks up on you,” Musa quipped, a dry laugh escaping her as they lingered near the snack table at the orientation party. The lively atmosphere clashed with the darker topic swirling around the room, the buzz of gossip overshadowing the usual excitement of the new school year.

The air felt thick with rumors. The discovery of the Shepherd’s body, mutilated and left in the forest just outside the magical barrier, had set the school abuzz. Headmistress Dowling had tried to keep things under wraps, hoping to prevent a panic, but apparently, she didn’t hope hard enough. The news had spread faster than wildfire, twisting through the student body and growing more sinister with each retelling.

“Happened to my nan right in the middle of Bingo,” Aisha added with a grin, clutching a churro stick as she joined the dark humor. “Just... thwop, thwop, thwop. Down the table.” She mimed a head rolling off, her satirical tone not helping much to veil the subtle tension beneath still.

Musa laughed, a sharp burst of sound that cut through the unease for the earth fairy, though she remained quiet. As they continued their conversation, it was in this moment that Y/N strolled into the party. He glanced around, taking in the lively scene, but the undercurrent of tension still being unmistakable. He wasn’t immune to the rumors either; whispers about the dead Shepherd had reached him not long after he left his meeting with the Headmistress.

As his eyes scanned the room, he spotted Sam standing on the other side of the room closer to another beverage table, chatting with a few other students. Y/N weaved through the crowd, nodding to a few faces he recognized from his earlier tour around campus, but feeling that familiar sense of being an outsider in a crowd where everyone else seemed to belong.

“Y/N!” Sam called out as soon as he spotted him, waving him over. “There you are! Glad you made it.”

Y/N offered a small smile, grateful for the warmth in Sam’s greeting, even if the unease from the ongoing gossip lingered in his mind.

“Yeah,” Y/N responded with a small smile, though his thoughts were elsewhere. “Got a bit lost coming from the Headmistress’ office but I made it. I was gonna go back to the dorm but I’d figured I’d check it out.”

"Good call. Everyone's here tonight." Sam gestured around at the buzzing party, cups in hand, snacks being passed, though there was still a murmur beneath it all—a sense of unease they couldn’t quite shake off.

Just then, Terra approached, her expression somewhere between cheerful and overwhelmed, as if she didn’t know where to go. Which, was a bit weird considering both her and Sam practically grew up around Alfea. Her warm demeanor returned quickly, though, as she saw her brother standing with Y/N. Sam immediately gestured toward her as she approached.

"Y/N, meet my sister, Terra. Terra, this is Y/N, my new roommate.”

Y/N extended his hand with a polite smile. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” Terra responded brightly, shaking his hand with enthusiasm. “Sam’s told me a bit about you. I hope he hasn’t scared you off yet.”

Y/N chuckled lightly. “Nah, not yet. He’s been a good guide.”

“Good,” Terra said, still holding onto a friendly smile. “I know Alfea can be a bit overwhelming at first. Especially with... you know, everything going on.”

There was an unspoken understanding between them—everyone knew what she was referring to. Y/N gave a slight nod, sensing the weight of what had happened in the forest still hanging over the party. Even though Terra was trying to keep things light, he could tell she wasn’t as carefree as she appeared.

“Everything alright, Terra?” Sam asked sensing his sister’s somewhat tense and despondent mood.

Terra looked a little caught off guard at the question, trying to keep her cheerful demeanor up, but both Sam and Y/N could see through it.

“Oh, I’m good. Just a little early roommate drama, but nothing to worry about. Joys of having five girls in one space.”

Sam raised a brow, a knowing smile playing at his lips. “You mean to tell me you’ve already started trouble? And here I was thinking it’d take at least a week before you drove someone mad.”

Y/N noticed how Terra tensed at the jab. On the surface, it was harmless, the kind of playful sibling banter Y/N had seen between others plenty of times. But something about the way Terra’s smile faltered—how her fingers tightened just a bit around the rim of her glass—hinted at a deeper insecurity. He couldn’t quite place it, but it was as if she was trying too hard to brush it off. Maybe it was the pressure of being likable, of wanting to fit in with her new roommates, that made her so self-conscious.

From what Y/N could tell, Terra seemed like the type who wanted to go out of her way to please everyone around her. That kind of eagerness could easily come across as overbearing to the wrong people. He had seen it before—people who bent over backward to make others happy but ended up standing on shaky ground themselves. Maybe her need to fit in made her more vulnerable to criticism or, worse, outright rejection.

He could see Sam pick up on the shift as well, though his smile remained teasing. "Isn’t Stella in your suite?" Sam asked suddenly, his tone seemingly casual but loaded with implication. Y/N didn’t miss the way Terra’s face fell for just a second—too brief to be obvious to anyone who wasn’t looking for it. The name "Stella" alone seemed to strike a deeper chord.

Y/N's curiosity piqued. He hadn’t met everyone at the school yet, and the way Terra reacted made him wonder who exactly this Stella was. He could sense there was something more to the question, something beneath the surface that Terra wasn’t saying.

“Stella?” Y/N asked, tilting his head slightly. “Who’s that?”

Terra hesitated, glancing between Y/N and Sam before finally answering. “Stella’s... well, she’s the Crown Princess of Solaria. You know, the realm that Alfea’s in.”

Y/N’s brows raised at that. “A princess? Seriously?”

Terra nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, seriously. She’s... well, she’s royalty, so she’s got that whole ‘above-it-all’ vibe, I guess. She’s in my suite with Aisha, Musa, and Bloom.”

Y/N could sense there was more she wasn’t saying—maybe something about the way Stella acted, or the dynamic between the roommates. Still, he didn’t press. “Sounds intense,” he said instead, trying to keep things light.

“You could say that.” Terra let out a soft laugh, though it sounded a little forced. Her eyes flickered for a moment, as if debating whether to continue. “She’s kind of... used to getting her way, I guess.” Terra hesitated, her gaze briefly shifting to the side before she added, “And then, there’s her history with Sky…”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Terra’s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly as if she realized she’d said too much. She bit her lip, clearly regretting bringing it up, and quickly glanced at Y/N, gauging his reaction.

Y/N blinked, intrigued by the new information. He didn’t know who Sky was, but judging by the way Terra said it, it seemed like a complicated situation. “Sky?”

“Yeah, Sky’s a Specialist,” Sam chimed in, filling the gap. “Top of the class, actually. He’s… well, kind of Alfea’s golden boy. Everyone looks up to him.” Sam’s expression shifted slightly, as if even he had mixed feelings about the guy.

Y/N nodded slowly, processing the new information. A princess and the top Specialist—there was definitely more to unpack there, but he decided to leave it for another time. Instead, he turned back to Terra, offering her a small, encouraging smile. “Well, it seems like you’re holding your own, right? Can’t be easy.”

Terra seemed to relax a little at that, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. “Thank you, I appreciate that. It’s just... new, you know?”

“Oh yeah,” Y/N said with a chuckle, thinking about his own recent arrival. “I definitely know a thing or two about being new.”

Terra’s mood seemed to lift at that, her smile growing a little brighter. Sam, noticing the shift in his sister’s demeanor, seemed pleased to see her returning to her usual cheerful self.

“Well, since you are new, and I’m positive Sam didn’t show you nearly enough of Alfea for you to know your way around,” Terra began, her voice taking on a teasing lilt, “why don’t I give you a proper tour? We can explore a bit more of the party. There’s so much you haven’t seen yet.”

Sam shot her a mock-offended look. “Hey! I think I did a pretty decent job as a tour guide, thank you very much.”

Terra raised an eyebrow, her expression dripping with playful skepticism. She turned to Y/N, clearly setting up her next move. “How many times have you gotten lost already?”

“Twice,” Y/N admitted, flashing a sheepish grin. Sam immediately threw his hands up in exaggerated frustration, his face contorting into a look of mock betrayal.

“See?” Terra smirked triumphantly, turning back to Sam before looking at Y/N. “I rest my case.”

Y/N chuckled, shooting an apologetic glance toward his roommate. “Sorry, Sam.”

Sam clutched at his chest as if wounded, putting on a show of hurt. “Go on then, leave me behind. Abandon your proper tour guide. I’ll just be here… wallowing.”

Terra shook her head, clearly amused, as she gently tugged Y/N along. “You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

Y/N gave Sam an apologetic wave, mouthing ‘Sorry’ again as they moved further into the crowd, Sam waving him off with a faux-injured expression that quickly turned into a playful grin.

Sam watched as Terra tugged Y/N further into the crowd. “Just don’t let her talk your ear off about plants,” Sam called after them. “I’ve heard it all before.”

“Oh, shut up!” Terra threw back at her brother, laughing now.

Across the party, Sky stood casually by a pillar, his eyes scanning the crowd of new and returning students as they mingled and introduced themselves to one another. Though his posture was relaxed, his mind was far from idle—people-watching was something of a habit at these events, and tonight was no exception.

Yet, despite the throng of lively faces, his gaze kept drifting back to a familiar figure: the new arrival he’d seen earlier. He couldn’t quite place why, but something about this fairy had captured his attention. As he watched them walk off with Terra, a flicker of curiosity tugged at him.

Before Sky could think too much about it, a voice snapped him out of his quiet observation.

“This is a lot of people,” came the familiar voice of the red-haired fairy he had tried to assist earlier.

Sky’s head snapped around, his gaze falling on the fairy who’s name he learned to be Bloom. A smile pulled at his lips as she approached, chuckling softly.

“What? You don’t have parties in California?” Sky played along, pretending not to remember their earlier conversation. There was something playful in the way he said it, but his focus remained split—part of his mind still on the new fairy and his curious departure with Terra.

“Oh, he remembers!” Bloom quipped back, her own smile matching his as she tugged her jacket a little closer.

“Oh, impressed?” Sky chuckled, his tone light as he tried to push thoughts of Y/N out of his head, if only for a moment. He offered Bloom a soft smile, though there was an undeniable flicker of distraction in his eyes.

For a brief moment, there was a comfortable silence between them, the hum of the party surrounding them like background noise. But Sky’s attention was tugged back to Bloom as she gestured to the crowd.

“Where can I go that’s the opposite… of this?” Bloom asked, her voice lowering as her gaze flicked toward the noisy party. “What’s outside?”

Sky blinked, her question catching him off guard. “What, beyond the Barrier?” he asked, incredulity creeping into his tone. His mind raced slightly, trying to figure out if she was serious.

“Mm-hmm,” Bloom responded with a nod, her curiosity clearly piqued.

Sky couldn’t help but smirk. “Well, depending on rumors, wolves, bears… or something much scarier.”

He expected that to be enough to dissuade her, but Bloom didn’t even flinch.

“But no people?” she asked, cutting straight to the point. Her gaze flicked back to him, searching for an answer.

Sky hesitated, his posture stiffening slightly as the weight of his concern settled over him. “Um…” He didn’t really want to let her go out there alone, especially with the tension in the air since the discovery in the forest. Was it his place to offer?

“Perfect, thanks,” Bloom nodded quickly, turning to leave without a second thought.

“Wait,” Sky blurted out, stepping forward and stopping her without actually touching her. “At the risk of, um... mansplaining, it is dangerous outside right now. You probably shouldn’t go alone.”

Bloom’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips curving into a smirk as she threw back, “Are you offering to escort me?”

Sky’s smile turned slightly sheepish. He hadn’t meant it as an invitation, not really. But as she said it, the words hung in the air between them, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt that this interaction had gone in a direction he hadn’t anticipated.

“Is that what this is? It’s not the worst pickup line,” Bloom scoffed, her chuckle half-masked by something deeper, though her amusement was clear.

“It wasn’t a line,” Sky said, raising a brow, his voice casual but firm. “Trust me?”

Bloom’s expression softened, though she wasn’t quite ready to let her guard down. “Hm. I just met you, but maybe one day I will.”

They locked eyes for a brief moment, a quiet pause settling between them. Sky’s gaze lingered on Bloom, but in the back of his mind, an unspoken curiosity remained—one that drew him back to the quiet stranger who had caught his attention earlier that day. Why his attention and focus kept seeming to rush back to this stranger who he hadn’t even properly met was a bit perplexing but nothing he felt he needed to dissect.

But even if he wanted to, he couldn’t dwell on it any further, as another familiar voice broke through the moment.

“Hey, Sky. Can we talk?” Stella’s voice was light, but there was an edge to it, something demanding his attention.

Sky tore his gaze away from Bloom, his expression shifting as he turned to face Stella. His shoulders stiffened slightly, a hint of frustration creeping in. He glanced back at Bloom, only to see her taking the opportunity to slip away.

Bloom didn’t waste a second, skedaddling into the crowd, leaving Sky standing there with a faint sense of disappointment—and maybe even a little agitation. He sighed, watching her disappear from sight as Stella stepped closer. And while his attention should’ve been fully on Stella by now, part of him still lingered elsewhere, in thoughts of Y/N.

With a slight exasperated breath, he stepped over to face the Princess of Solaria, taking the orange beverage she held out for him in silence with no reaction, though he didn’t drink it, rather opting to wait for her to speak. He could already feel the tension that always seemed to follow their interactions.

"I haven't seen you all day," Stella commented, her tone light but with an underlying edge, something Sky recognized all too well.

“Summer, Stella. All summer,” Sky replied, his voice carrying an exasperated note as he let out a breath. His expression reflected the weariness of someone who had dealt with this dynamic for far too long.

Stella tilted her head, a carefully controlled smile playing on her lips. “You know that girl you were talking to? Bloom? Yeah, she’s my suitemate.” Her words were laced with a mixture of casual observation and thinly veiled warning, though she tried to play it cool.

Sky’s brow furrowed slightly as he met her gaze. “So, what does that mean, Stel? That I can’t talk to her?” He knew where this conversation was heading, but he wasn’t interested in playing along.

“I didn’t say that,” Stella quickly retorted, her voice deceptively sweet, though Sky could feel the tension building beneath her words.

He stared at her for a beat, then sighed, pushing the conversation to the point. “What are you saying, specifically?” His tone sharpened, a touch of sarcasm creeping in. “I’d hate to make you upset. I know what happens when you get upset.”

Their exchange was attracting a few curious glances from the nearby students, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. Sky’s gaze flicked toward the onlookers briefly before returning to Stella.

Stella’s smile wavered just for a second, a flash of something like vulnerability crossing her features before she masked it. “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing,” she said, her voice steady but tight.

Sky held her gaze for a moment longer, then handed back the glass without taking a sip. “I always do,” he replied, slipping one hand into his brown leather jacket before turning to walk off, the weight of the interaction already tiring him.

Stella took the glass back begrudgingly, her grip tightening around it as she noticed the eyes of the crowd still lingering on them. She shot them a sharp look, raising her chin in defiance.

"Enjoy the show?" she snapped, her words laced with irritation before she stormed off, leaving the onlookers to exchange glances in her wake.

But as Stella strode away, her focus on Bloom was more than a little misdirected. Sure, she noticed the subtle sparks between Sky and the new girl, and that definitely stung. But, in reality, Bloom wasn’t the one who posed the real threat to her carefully constructed world—not yet, at least. Though bunking just beyond the wall, the redhead was only the start of Stella's concerns.

Because, whether she realized it or not, and whether Sky did either, there was another fairy lingering quietly in the background. One who was already starting to occupy space in the blonde Specialist’s mind, even if no one had caught on just yet. And for now, that particular fairy was flying completely under Stella's radar.

The sun was gradually sinking toward the horizon, its warm light fading as the moon began to ascend into the night sky. Terra had managed to show Y/N far more of the school than Sam had, and with each new landmark or shortcut, Y/N felt his anxiety ease a little more. Navigating the sprawling grounds of Alfea didn’t seem as daunting now, and the prospect of finding his classes in the morning felt less like a challenge and more like something he could manage.

He appreciated Terra's extensive tour. While Sam’s earth magic allowed him to phase through walls and take unconventional routes, the paths he’d shown Y/N earlier hadn’t exactly been practical for someone without those abilities. But Terra's guidance had been a lifesaver, giving Y/N the confidence he needed to feel a little more at ease in this new environment. And it didn’t hurt that he could now say he had another friend beyond just his roommate.

As they made their way back towards the main area where the orientation party was still in full swing, Y/N felt a quiet sense of accomplishment. He’d spent the day getting to know the school and making connections—small victories that meant a lot after such a whirlwind arrival.

When they reached the party, Y/N paused, looking back toward the lively crowd. “I think I’m going to step outside for a bit,” he said, turning to Terra with a small smile. “I need to call my dad, let him know I’m okay and made it through without any major disasters.”

Terra nodded, understanding. “Yeah, sure! It was good getting to hang out with you, hopefully we’ll have classes together. Maybe Sam and I’ll make an earth fairy out of you yet Or at least I can, Sam’s not that reliable..” She grinned, her teasing light-hearted.

Y/N chuckled. “Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Still got to master my own magic first.” With a wave, he stepped away from the party, grateful for a moment of quiet outside.

As he walked off, Terra’s gaze shifted across the canteen, catching sight of Riven. The cocky Specialist was in the middle of harassing what looked like a freshman. Her smile faded, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Great,” she muttered to herself, moving towards the scene, ready to intervene.

Y/N stepped out into the quiet evening, the crisp night air brushing against his skin as he moved away from the hum of the party. The noise, the whispers, and the pressing weight of new expectations faded into the background, replaced by the stillness of the night. Above him, the stars were beginning to dot the inky sky, and the moon hung like a soft lantern, casting a gentle glow across the grounds.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Y/N felt a quiet sense of peace settle over him, a kind of stillness that seemed to resonate deep within his core. The world around him grew quieter, and yet, at the same time, he felt more alive, more in tune with everything—especially the water that flowed in the nearby river. The moon's silver light washed over the landscape, but it also seemed to wash over him, sharpening his senses, making him more aware of the subtle hum of magic pulsing through his veins.

There was always something about the moon that brought him a heightened sense of awareness. Its gentle, luminous presence had a way of amplifying his connection to water, as if the tides within him swelled and receded in perfect harmony with the celestial body above. The longer he stood under its glow, the more he could feel his magic stir, stronger and more defined, like a calm current just waiting to be guided.

It was during these moments that Y/N felt most like himself—connected, powerful, but also grounded. The pull of the moon acted like an anchor, steadying him in ways that the chaotic energy of the day never could. There was an unspoken bond between him and the water, one that felt even more profound when the moon was present, as though its light illuminated not only the world around him but also the depths of his own potential.

Now, sitting on the bench near the edge of the courtyard, Y/N felt that same pull from the moon overhead. The familiar hum of his magic stirred within him, quieter now but still present, like the tide waiting to rise. He glanced up at the bright object, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. It reminded him of home, of those nights by the lake, and of the man who had always stood by his side.

A soft pang of longing settled in his chest, and he pulled out his phone. After a few taps, he called his dad.

The phone rang a few times before his dad’s gruff but warm voice answered, “Y/N, about time you called. Thought I was gonna have to send a whole squad in after you.”

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back on the bench. “Sorry, Dad. It’s been crazy since I got here and it’s a lot to take in. Alfea is huge. You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

His dad’s voice softened with a note of humor. “Let me guess—got lost, tried to play it cool, but couldn’t figure out which building was which?”

Y/N laughed. “Twice. Sam’s shortcuts aren’t exactly... beginner-friendly. Luckily, his sister Terra gave me a proper tour.”

His dad hummed, the sound low and steady, a quiet comfort even from miles away. "Good. I’m glad you’re finding your way," he said, his voice warm but soon shifting to the no-nonsense tone Y/N had grown up with. "Did Miss Dowling go over the curriculum with you? What’s it gonna be like for drills and practices?” His tone sharpened, slipping into that familiar edge of military discipline, a reminder that beneath the caring father was a man who had spent years in service, accustomed to strict routines and rigid expectations.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His dad’s voice always carried that familiar weight, even in casual conversations—like there was an invisible checklist in his mind, keeping everything measured and focused. "Yeah, we went over it. The curriculum's solid," Y/N replied, trying to keep things light, though he knew his dad would pick apart every detail. "It’s a lot of basics at first—control exercises, learning how to use magic slowly and safely, all that. They’re big on precision and making sure no one gets ahead of themselves too fast. Miss Dowling made it pretty clear that we’re gonna be challenged, but nothing I can’t handle." He paused for a second, remembering something she’d mentioned in passing about her own military background. “Honestly, I think you’d get along with her. She’s definitely no-nonsense—reminds me of you."

He paused, running his hand through his hair, still feeling the weight of the headmistress’s words from earlier. "I’ll have regular check-ins with her too—y’know, to keep track of how I’m doing. She’s real big on making sure we don’t try to prove something and end up hurting ourselves. So, yeah, lots of discipline, lots of control. But it sounds like I’ll be able to figure it out." His tone was casual, but beneath the surface, he knew it was going to be intense—and his dad would expect nothing less than him excelling at it.

“As they should be,” his dad said, though his tone was a bit lighter than usual. “It’s your first day, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m sure you’ve got a leg up on thosen other slackers with what I’ve already taught you, so make sure you’re putting it to good use. Don’t just go through the motions because it’s new. Take it seriously from the start.”

Y/N nodded, feeling that familiar tug of expectation settle in. “Yeah, I know, Dad. I’m not slacking. Miss Dowling’s big on safety and control, and trust me, she’s not about to let anyone take it easy. She’s got this whole ‘slow but steady’ approach with magic, so I’m sure I’ll get plenty of practice.” He chuckled softly, then added, “Seriously, I think you and Dowling would get along great. She’s got a military background too, so she’s all about discipline.”

His dad hummed approvingly on the other end. “Good. Sounds like you’re in the right hands then. Just make sure you keep your focus and set the tone early. That’s how you get ahead.” Even though it wasn’t a drill-sergeant tone, the message was clear: the groundwork Y/N laid now would shape the rest of his time at Alfea.

Y/N smiled softly, the weight of those words familiar but not suffocating—not yet, anyway. His dad had always pushed him, but there was pride behind it. And while the pressure was always there, it felt less about being perfect and more about becoming something better than he was the day before.

Y/N leaned back on the bench, the cool night air grounding him as he listened to the comforting sound of his dad’s voice on the other end. He glanced up at the moon, its light reflecting off the nearby river. "Actually, I’ve already seen some pretty cool stuff here, magic-wise. My roommate, Sam—he’s an Earth fairy, and get this—he can literally walk through solid objects. Like, I’m talking full-on phase through walls, no big deal." He chuckled, the memory of Sam casually disappearing through their dorm room wall earlier still fresh. "And then there’s the girls who use magic to take selfies. I mean, honestly, not as surprising as you’d think, but still, the Otherworld is wild. It’s different here... and kind of the same, in weird ways."

There was a pause, and Y/N could almost hear his dad raising an eyebrow on the other end. "Sounds like you’re adjusting," his dad remarked, amusement slipping into his tone. "Learning any new tricks yourself? Besides dodging magical selfies, I mean."

Y/N grinned, though the question struck a deeper chord than he wanted to admit. "Not yet," he said, his tone light but laced with something heavier beneath it. "They’re big on control here—real slow and steady. Apparently, it’s all about mastering the basics, making sure we don’t accidentally blow up half the school or anything." He let out a small chuckle, but the humor in his voice felt forced, more like a shield than anything else. "Which, you know... kinda makes sense, considering... well, let’s just say that’s the main reason I’m even here."

There was a beat of silence. Y/N’s words hung in the air, his attempt at joking about it doing little to cover the weight of what he’d left unsaid. The memory of that one night—the water flooding in, his dad’s panic—flashed through his mind like a vivid dream he couldn’t fully wake up from. But instead of letting the pain sink in, he threw up his usual defense—a half-smile, a shrug, and a quick change of subject.

His dad was quiet for a moment, the weight of that shared memory hanging heavy between them. "You’ve come a long way since then, Y/N," he said, his voice softer, more careful. "But I get it. Even when you were a kid, you had this way of diving headfirst into chaos and somehow, just barely, pulling yourself out of it. And yeah, it probably felt easier back then, knowing I was always there to catch you if things went south. That safety net, right? But you're stronger now. You’ve learned to handle it on your own. You don’t need me right next to you to pull you back. You’ve got this under control."

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t want to admit how much he missed the reassurance of having his dad right beside him. "Yeah, I guess. It just feels different now. Like, what if I mess up, and there’s no one around to stop it? What if I hurt someone?" His voice wavered slightly, betraying the insecurities that had been bubbling under the surface since he arrived at Alfea.

"Hey," his dad interrupted, that firm yet comforting tone snapping Y/N out of his spiral. "I know it's new, and it’s scary being out there on your own, but you’ve got this. You’ve got the discipline, the training—you’ve always been able to pull yourself together, no matter what. And even if I’m not there physically, I’m always with you. I’m in your head, telling you to keep your feet grounded, your mind sharp. You’ve got more in you than you think."

Y/N smiled softly, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thanks, Dad. I just... it’s good to hear you say that." There was a long pause, the sound of crickets filling the space between them as the moon continued to rise higher in the sky.

"Good. Now, just to check, you’re not letting any boys distract you from all that hard work, are you?" His dad’s tone took on a teasing edge, a small chuckle filtering through the phone.

Y/N snorted, rolling his eyes even though no one could see him. "Dad, seriously?"

"I mean it! I’ve got to make sure no one’s catching your eye and pulling you off your game. Any eye candy running around there?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his dad’s playful concern. "The only boy I’ve heard about that’s worth looking at is this Sky guy. Apparently, he’s the golden boy around here, but from what I’ve heard, that’s a mess I definitely don’t want to get involved in."

"Oh really? Sounds like someone’s been doing their homework." His dad’s voice was light, but Y/N could hear the smirk in it. "So, Sky, huh? What’s the deal there?"

Y/N shrugged, his tone casual. "I dunno, something about his ex-girlfriend, drama, whatever. Definitely not something I’m about to jump into on day one." He chuckled, leaning back again as he looked up at the stars. "Besides, I’ve got enough to deal with just figuring out where all my classes are."

"Smart man," his dad replied with a chuckle, but there was a familiar edge to his tone. "Keep your head on straight. Boys can wait until you're the top water fairy in that school, right? And just so we’re clear," his voice dropped an octave, that serious military dad tone slipping through the humor, "if any of those boys give you trouble... well, you know where to find me. I don’t care how far Alfea is."

Y/N smirked, knowing his dad was half-joking—emphasis on half. "Yeah, I’m not about to test that."

"Still can’t believe my son’s a fairy,” his dad muttered, the teasing tone unmistakable.

“Careful, old man,” Y/N shot back with a grin. “Talk like that, and you’ll end up cancelled.”

A loud scoff echoed through the phone. “Cancelled? Please. Your generation’s full of a bunch of soft pussies. Ain’t no-one canceling me.”

As time passed, their conversation flowed easily, with Y/N filling his dad in on his new dorm, mentioning Terra’s bubbly personality, Sam’s easygoing nature, and a few of the other students he’d come across. His dad listened patiently, offering his usual dry comments or a chuckle here and there. But mostly, he let Y/N ramble on, giving him the space to talk through everything that had been building up inside. It was comforting, like a piece of home grounding him in the unfamiliar world of Alfea.

Y/N leaned back, glancing up at the sky again. The moon had climbed even higher, casting a cool glow that bathed the courtyard in silvery light. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant trickle of the river were the only sounds that filled the space around him now, making the night feel even more serene. It was almost too peaceful, in contrast to the emotions still swirling in his chest.

“I should probably let you go,” Y/N finally said, the reluctance clear in his voice. “I don’t want to keep you up.”

His dad’s tone softened, that rare moment of vulnerability slipping through. “You’re not keeping me up, kid. I’m glad we got to talk. And remember, if anything goes sideways or you need anything, I’m just a call away. You’re not in this alone.”

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in his throat, grateful for the reassurance but wishing he didn’t feel so far away. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll be alright... I miss you though.”

“I miss you too, Y/N. But you’re doing great. You’re where you need to be. Keep your head straight, and don’t let anything distract you from that.”

Y/N smiled softly, the familiar comfort of his dad’s words settling over him like a blanket. “I won’t. Talk to you soon?”

“Always.”

“Cool, love you dad.”

“Love you to, kid.”

With that, they said their goodbyes, Y/N holding onto the phone for a moment longer after the call ended, as if keeping the connection alive just a little longer. The night seemed quieter now, and despite the warmth in his chest from the conversation, there was still a restlessness lingering under his skin.

As Y/N stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket, his attention was drawn to movement in the distance. Two girls were making their way back from the forest toward the school—one with bright ginger hair pulled into a ponytail, the other with braids tied up and still in athletic swimwear. He recognized them from earlier in the day. Their voices were raised, the sharp tone of their argument carrying faintly on the wind, though the exact words were lost to him. Still, the tension between them was palpable, enough to make Y/N pause for a moment, curiosity and some small concern bubbling up inside him.

He watched them for a brief moment, before letting out a sigh, deciding he didn’t even want to know what that was about. Whatever was going on between them, it wasn’t his place. Not tonight. He had enough to process without diving into someone else’s problems.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as the weight of the day settled over him. There was still too much swirling around in his mind, and the emotional pull from talking to his dad hadn’t fully left him. Needing more space to clear his thoughts, he let his magic guide him. The familiar tug in his chest pointed him toward the nearby river, the soft hum of the water beckoning him with its soothing energy.

Y/N took one last glance at the retreating figures before turning in the opposite direction, heading toward the river’s edge. The water called to him, and tonight, he needed that quiet connection more than anything.

“No, you shouldn’t have been out there.”

Bloom’s words, sharp and filled with frustration, echoed as she and Aisha ascended one of the stairways in Alfea’s grand halls. Bloom turned, her body tense, facing Aisha who looked back with an incredulous expression.

“Is that American for ‘sorry I almost set you on fire’?” Aisha shot back, her voice edged with sarcasm. Her arms crossed over her chest as she took a step closer, challenging Bloom's deflection. “You were a runaway train with no idea what you were doing.”

“Which is why I was out there alone—trying to figure it out.” Bloom's tone held the weight of exhaustion as she stormed up the stairs, not wanting to hear another lecture. Her steps were quick and purposeful, as if she could walk away from the guilt building in her chest. Aisha followed closely behind, her eyes narrowing.

“Brilliant idea.” Aisha muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though there was an undercurrent of concern she didn’t bother to hide.

Bloom stopped abruptly, turning toward Aisha with a tired expression. She waved her arms out, a gesture of frustration and defeat. “I’m not like the rest of you. I didn’t grow up here. I don’t have fairy parents. I’ve done magic once in my life and it was...” she trailed off, unable to even finish the thought. Her words hung in the air, weighted with emotion.

Aisha, unfazed, raised an eyebrow. “What? Terrible? I’m shocked. I flooded my entire secondary school after I failed a math test. Taps, sprinklers, toilets... Have you ever waded through human poo? I have. Not pleasant. Sometimes being a fairy means you have to deal with shit.”

The hallway they stood in felt quieter now as Bloom sighed and sat on one of the benches nearby. The weight of her confession bore down on her, and her shoulders slumped slightly. Her voice came out quieter this time, less defensive. “So my... mom and I don’t really get along.” There was a small, almost bitter chuckle that followed. “I know. It’s a shocker. I’m not... exactly the ideal daughter for her. She’d love a cheerleader, and I’m whatever the opposite of a cheerleader is.”

Aisha stayed quiet, sensing there was more Bloom wanted to say. And after a moment of silence, Bloom’s eyes darkened with a memory she wished she could forget. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, her hands clasped tightly together as if holding herself together. She described a vivid memory of her mother instructing her father to remove her bedroom door after a heated argument. The punishment had felt unfair, extreme even, and the anger had built up inside Bloom, festering. 

“That night, I… couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the rage just kept building. Then it happened.”

Aisha leaned in, listening intently as Bloom continued. She spoke of the first time she’d tapped into her magic, unknowingly igniting a fire that blazed a trail from her room to her parents' bedroom. “It was almost like the fire had a life of its own... I don’t remember how long I let it burn. I just remember their screams.”

Her voice cracked as she described the scene—the sight of her parents huddled in the corner of their bedroom, her father desperately trying to shield her mother from the flames that engulfed the room. “My mom...was covered in third-degree burns…’cause of me. Every night after that, I… I snuck out. I was so scared I’d hurt them again that I slept in this creepy-ass warehouse near my house. Until Miss Dowling found me.” There was a bitter chuckle mixed with a sniffle, her hands wiping away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes.

Aisha, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, her voice softer than before. “All right. Fire story beats shit story. You win.”

A faint smile broke through Bloom’s pained expression, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked down at her hands, the weight of her past still pressing on her shoulders. Aisha stood and walked toward the ledge that overlooked the canteen below, her expression thoughtful, as though piecing together Bloom’s story in her mind.

“And your parents had no idea it was you?” Aisha’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of disbelief.

Bloom shook her head slowly, the disbelief mirrored in her own voice. “I don’t know how distant my fairy ancestors are, but... the most mystical thing my parents believe in is knocking on wood.”

Aisha was quiet for a moment, her mind turning over the pieces of the puzzle before her. “It’s just... odd,” she began cautiously. “You drew on a great deal of magic without even trying. It’s hard to believe you’re from a dormant bloodline. Is there any chance you’re adopted?”

Bloom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No. No, I... No, I’ve heard the story of my birth a million times. ‘Miracle baby.’ I had a heart defect in the womb, but a day after I was born, it was gone.”

Aisha’s expression shifted, her eyes widening slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh God. You... You’re a changeling.”

“What’s that?” Bloom asked, her confusion deepening. “Aisha, what’s a changeling?”

Aisha slowly sat down next to her, the weight of her words sinking in. “A changeling is a fairy baby that’s switched with a human one at birth.”

“Wait, what?” Bloom's voice cracked slightly, her confusion turning into shock.

“It’s barbaric,” Aisha said quietly. “It barely happens anymore.”

“That’s not possible.” Bloom was adamant, shaking her head.

“You’re clearly very powerful, Bloom,” Aisha pointed out. “You have to be pure-blooded.”

Bloom slowly rose out of her seat, her voice following suit. “I would know if my parents weren’t my parents, Aisha. Why would you even say that?”

“I’m just trying to help,” Aisha replied, her tone cautious, but her intent sincere.

“Well, you’re not.” She stormed off, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she passed Musa, who had just arrived.

As she passed, Musa approached them, her eyes flicking between the two. “What the hell did you tell her?” she asked, eyeing Aisha with confusion.

“The truth,” Aisha said standing as well as she slowly approached the mind fairy, still staring after Bloom. “Because someone’s been lying to her.”

The dim glow of the evening light filtered through the stained glass windows of Headmistress Dowling's office, casting long, soft shadows across the room. She sat at her desk, a steaming cup of tea in her hands, its gentle aroma filling the quiet space. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts clearly elsewhere as she took a slow, deliberate sip. The warmth of the tea was comforting, but even that couldn't ease the weight pressing on her mind.

After a moment, Dowling set the cup down gently on its saucer, the faint clink barely audible. Her eyes flicked toward the door across the room, sensing a disturbance, though none had entered. With a subtle movement of her hand, the door silently swung shut, closing the space off to the world beyond.

She exhaled quietly, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention to the far side of the room. The ornate bookshelf that lined the wall appeared ordinary to any unsuspecting observer, but as her hand raised slightly, the wood seemed to shift, the books trembling momentarily as the shelf retracted into the wall, revealing a hidden passageway behind it.

Without hesitation, Dowling rose from her chair and moved toward the secret entrance, her steps soundless on the floor. The passage yawned open, dark and shadowed, as she stepped inside, her figure disappearing from view. The bookshelf slid back into place seamlessly, leaving the office as still and untouched as it had been moments before, save for the faint swirl of steam rising from the now-abandoned cup of tea.

The sun disappeared below the horizon, taking its golden, orange, and pinkish-purple hues with it. The moon now sat comfortably in the night sky, casting long shadows across Alfea’s combat arena. The air was thick with the scent of fresh grass and the distant hum of students winding down from their day. In this quiet, secluded part of the academy grounds, only the steady, rhythmic sound of breathing could be heard—evidence of someone deep in training.

Sky had needed to clear his head. After the party and that tense conversation with Stella, he'd come out to the training grounds to blow off some steam. He hadn’t planned on being out here so late, but training was what he knew best—what gave him clarity when everything else felt chaotic.

As Alfea’s newest Specialist Squad Leader and the son of Andreas, Sky was no stranger to pressure. Even in his second year, the expectations placed on him by Silva, his peers, and the legacy of his father were enough to weigh down even the strongest. And now, the added worry of a possible Burned One sighting made the stress all the more suffocating.

He moved with practiced precision through the drills, each strike and parry sharper than the last. But no matter how many times he tried to lose himself in the rhythm, his thoughts circled back to the burdens he carried. The responsibilities of leadership, the looming threat of the Burned Ones, and the unresolved tension with Stella—everything felt heavy, like a weight pressing down on him.

And then there was that fairy.

Sky couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about them kept gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Maybe it was the way they moved—calm and controlled, but with a kind of unrefined intensity that suggested more power than they even realized. Or maybe it was the way they carried themselves, like they were used to keeping people at arm’s length, though not out of arrogance—more like they were afraid of letting anyone get too close.

It was different from anyone else he’d met. And that look...like they were holding back something deep, something that pulled Sky in even when he should’ve been focused on other things. He’d seen that intensity in their eyes—focused, yet almost searching for something or someone, like a puzzle they were trying to piece together, but couldn’t quite crack.

It was enough to make him pause, to make him wonder if he was reading too much into it. But every time the thought crept in, it wouldn’t leave.

He shook his head, trying to push the feeling away. There was too much going on, too much at stake, to get distracted. But still… his mind kept drifting back, wondering what it was about them that made it so hard to just look away.

Sky paused, sheathing his sword as he took a moment to breathe. His chest rose and fell with the effort, but even the burn in his muscles did little to quiet the storm inside. He sat down on the edge of the raised platform, staring out at the open field, hoping the stillness would help center him.

That’s when he heard it—the faint sound of splashing water, barely distinguishable from the natural hum of the nearby river. It wasn’t much, just enough to make him pause. He stood up, scanning the area, listening intently. The sound of rushing water grew more distinct, and along with it, a faint rustle of leaves. Sky’s instincts kicked in, and his focus sharpened.

Curiosity got the better of him, and Sky followed the sound, moving quietly through the trees that bordered the field. As he approached the riverbank, he noticed muddied footprints cutting through the overgrowth, disappearing into the forest. Someone had been here recently.

He crouched down, inspecting the footprints. They were fresh, still damp, meaning whoever made them hadn’t passed by long before he arrived. A trail led toward the river where the shimmering Barrier of Alfea’s protective force field could be seen in the distance.

Sky knew he should probably report this to Silva or even Headmistress Dowling. It wasn’t a good idea for anyone to be out here alone, especially this close to the Barrier after what had happened in the forest. But something made him hesitate—whether it was a need to prove himself or just an unconscious draw to see what lay ahead, Sky couldn’t say. But whatever it was, he decided to follow the trail himself.

He stepped into the thickening trees, the sounds of the forest growing louder around him—rustling leaves, the distant chirping of insects, and the constant, rhythmic flow of water. The further he went, the more the noise seemed to focus on the river. And as he reached the treeline, stepping into the clearing by the water’s edge, his eyes widened at the sight before him.

Standing near the river was the same water fairy from earlier. Sky recognized him immediately—the way he moved was unmistakable. The fairy’s back was to him, seemingly unaware of Sky’s presence as he practiced his magic, manipulating the water with a grace and precision that was mesmerizing to watch.

Sky’s first instinct was to turn back. They were still within the Barrier, and it wasn’t uncommon for students to seek solitude near the river to practice. Privacy was something Sky valued too, and he understood the need to escape the buzz of Alfea life. But something about the way the water fairy moved held him in place.

There was a seamless blend of power and precision in the way he controlled the water, sending it twisting and spiraling through the air. The fluid motions were almost hypnotic, each arc of water bending and shifting under the fairy’s control before solidifying into sharp, crystalline shapes. A spear, a shield, and then, just as quickly, back to water again.

Sky had always found water magic fascinating, but watching this guy work was something else entirely. There was no hesitation, no faltering. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, with the water responding as if it were an extension of his body. It was clear that he wasn’t just practicing; he was refining combat techniques in a way that was both deadly and beautiful.

Sky found himself captivated, his eyes following every motion, every subtle shift in the fairy’s form. There was a discipline to his movements, a quiet intensity that spoke of years of training. He couldn’t help but admire the control and focus it must have taken to reach this level of mastery. And yet, as much as he was drawn to the magic, he found his attention shifting to the fairy himself.

The water fairy was lean, his athletic frame moving with a dancer-like precision. Sky’s gaze lingered on the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the fabric clinging to him as he commanded the water. There was a calmness in the way he stood, a poise that made every movement seem effortless, deliberate.

Sky shook his head slightly, forcing himself to focus. He wasn’t sure why he felt so drawn to this guy—someone he didn’t even know. But the sense of ease and quiet confidence the fairy exuded was hard to ignore.

As he was about to turn back, his boot caught a branch, the snap of wood echoing through the clearing. Sky winced as the sound broke the stillness, and the fairy immediately turned to face him, his cerulean glowing eyes narrowing with a mix of surprise and wariness.

Four ice weapons materialized in the air, hovering around the fairy in a defensive stance, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The blue glow of his magic shimmered in the moonlight, casting an ethereal glow around him.

Sky froze, his hand instinctively moving toward the hilt of his sword, but something stopped him. Despite the threat of the ice weapons, there was no malice in the fairy’s gaze. Sky felt an odd sense of trust, like the fairy wouldn’t actually harm him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the fairy said, his voice calm and composed. With a flick of his wrist, the ice weapons dissolved back into water, falling harmlessly into the river. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.”

Sky let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his body relaxing slightly as the immediate threat dissipated. He managed a small, reassuring smile. “No, it’s my fault,” he replied, his voice steadying. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just… curious.”

The fairy’s expression softened, though his eyes still held a hint of wariness. “Curious?” he echoed, his tone inviting Sky to explain.

“Yeah, I just—” Sky gestured toward the path he had taken. “I saw footprints leading here and wanted to make sure no one was in trouble, being so close to the Barrier and all. You’re new, right? First year at Alfea?”

The fairy’s expression softened, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, first year—first day, actually. It’s been a lot to take in, especially with all the rumors about that body found in the forest. I mean, it was probably just a random animal attack, right? But people seem really on edge, even with the Barrier in place.” He glanced at the river, his tone shifting. “I just needed a break—get some peace and quiet. The river seemed like a safe spot. Calm, secure, no distractions. A chance to relax and clear my head.”

Sky nodded, understanding the logic. "Makes sense," he agreed, though there was still a flicker of concern behind his casual tone. "But, you know, being out here alone... it’s not exactly safe."

The fairy’s brow furrowed slightly, picking up on the shift in Sky’s demeanor. "What do you mean? It’s probably just a wild animal, right?"

Sky hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “You really don’t know what everyone’s been saying? About the possibility of it being a Burned One?”

Y/N’s confusion deepened, his brow tightening. “A Burned One? No, I’ve... never heard of that.”

Sky’s surprise was evident as he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you don’t know what Burned Ones are? Aren’t you from the Otherworld?”

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound almost masking the guarded edge in his tone. "No, not at all. I’m from Hawaii."

Sky blinked, processing the unexpected answer. "Hawaii? You’re from the First World?"

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, his grin more cautious now, though still carrying a trace of humor. “I’m guessing not a lot of people from around here know what or where that is. You’d be surprised, but Sam and Terra actually knew about it. Figured most people here wouldn’t, though, considering how secretive everything’s supposed to be.”

Sky’s smile widened at that. “Hawaii, huh?” His mind immediately drew a parallel to earlier that day, when Bloom had told him she was from California. Another First Worlder. He hadn’t realized how many non-magical realm students Alfea attracted, but it was starting to make him wonder how many more were out there, hidden in plain sight.

“Yep,” Y/N confirmed with a nod, though his gaze briefly flickered away, as if there was more he wasn’t ready to dive into. “I’ve known I was magical since I was a kid—my dad helped me figure out how to control it. But, honestly? I had no idea a place like this even existed. When Miss Dowling first told me about it, I thought she was punking me. I was half expecting to end up in some knock-off Hogwarts amusement park, not... well, here.” He chuckled lightly, the humor genuine, but there was a thread of unease woven beneath the words. “Coming here’s been... a pretty big leap.”

Sky could sense that Y/N was holding something back, like there was a part of his story he wasn’t ready to share. But he didn’t press. Instead, he matched Y/N’s energy with an easy chuckle of his own. “Yeah, I can imagine the culture shock. Seems like we’re getting more and more First Worlders these days.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a brief second, his guard still up, though he quickly recovered. “Yeah... something like that.”

There was an unspoken tension between them—Y/N was giving Sky pieces of his story, but not the whole picture. And Sky, for all his curiosity, could tell that pushing too hard wasn’t the way to go. Not yet.

The fairy gave a slight shrug, his lips twitching into a small, guarded smile. “Anyway, I’ve got enough of a handle on my magic to be able to take care of myself," he replied, his voice steady, though still carrying that subtle edge of uncertainty, like he wasn’t quite convinced. "And from what I’ve heard, that Barrier is supposed to be impenetrable, right? Should be more than enough to keep us safe. I’m not too worried."

Sky raised an eyebrow, his expression somewhere between playful and cautious. “Supposed to be, yeah,” he echoed, the tone light but carrying a hint of skepticism. “But you know, the rumors swirling around aren’t exactly about stray animals. Burned Ones aren’t your average woodland creatures.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and curiosity. “Still don’t really know what those are, but... sure,” he admitted with a shrug, trying to play it off casually, though a hint of unease lingered in his voice.

Sky couldn’t help but smile at the fairy’s self-assuredness. There was something infectious about the way he spoke, a quiet confidence that made it hard to look away. The specialist shifted his stance slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to maintain an air of casualness. His own expression softened as he took in the guy in front of him—something about him drew Sky in, even if he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Still,” Sky added, a hint of playfulness creeping into his tone, “it never hurts to have someone around who knows what to expect and knows their way around combat. You know, just in case that Barrier isn’t as foolproof as they say.”

The fairy raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Confident, aren’t we?” he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let me guess... Specialist, right?”

Sky chuckled, feeling more at ease as the energy between them started to feel less tense and more comfortable, even natural. It felt as if they were simply falling into a rhythm that neither had expected but both were enjoying.

“You got me,” Sky admitted with a grin, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the fading sunlight. “I guess I can’t help but be a little protective.”

“And what makes you think I need protection?” Y/N asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in playful challenge. Then, he paused for a second, as if piecing together the puzzle. His gaze flicked over Sky—blond hair, confident stance, and the slight swagger that came with his title. “Hmm,” Y/N tilted his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you’re the golden boy I’ve been hearing so much about. Sky, right?”

Sky blinked, surprised but intrigued. He hadn’t expected to be recognized, especially out here, and he certainly hadn’t anticipated Y/N’s keen observation. “That’s right,” he said, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “What exactly have you been hearing about me?”

Y/N shrugged, his smirk widening just a bit. “Oh, you know, just that you’re Alfea’s newest squad leader, the one everyone seems to look up to. Plus, it’s hard not to notice when your name’s on just about everyone’s lips today.”

Sky chuckled again, though there was a trace of modesty in his response. “Well, I guess my reputation precedes me,” he said with a grin, but his expression turned a bit more serious as he added, “But you might want to rethink the whole ‘no protection needed’ thing. This place has its dangers, even with a Barrier.”

Sky watched the fairy carefully, his curiosity growing with each passing second. There was something about the way Y/N spoke, a quiet confidence, but also a guardedness, that intrigued him. He hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn, but it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, Sky found himself wanting to know more.

“Maybe,” Y/N said with a casual shrug, though his voice carried a darker edge. “It’s not like I’ve been wandering around without a clue. When it comes to magic… let’s just say I’m probably more of a threat to others—and myself—than anything out here could be to me.” His eyes flickered briefly, a subtle tension beneath the surface. “I can handle myself, and I’m definitely not looking for trouble.”

Sky tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, but the flicker of curiosity in his eyes gave away that he’d picked up on the deeper meaning behind Y/N’s words. “Maybe you’re not looking for trouble,” he said, his tone casual yet pointed, “but that doesn’t mean trouble’s not out there looking for you.”

Y/N huffed softly, amusement flickering in his eyes as he narrowed them in a playful challenge. “And what makes you think I’m the type that needs rescuing?”

Sky’s grin widened, leaning into the teasing banter. “I don’t know… maybe it’s just my hero complex kicking in.”

Y/N let out a light laugh, the sound easy and carefree, a contrast to the tension that had been hanging between them earlier. “Hero complex, huh?” he teased back, his smirk growing. “And here I was told you Specialists were all about strategy and precision.”

Sky chuckled lightly at Y/N's retort, their easy banter creating a surprising warmth between them. But as the playful atmosphere settled, a silence followed. They exchanged a few lingering glances—curious from Sky, and slightly more guarded from Y/N. There was something in the fairy’s expression, a subtle nervousness, that made Sky feel as though Y/N wasn’t used to being watched so intently.

After a moment, Sky cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. “It’s getting late, and we’ve got classes in the morning. Probably best we both head back to the dorms.”

Y/N gave a slight nod, though he couldn’t resist another jab. “You’re really serious about that hero complex, huh?”

Sky grinned, unable to stop himself from playing along. “You’d be surprised how serious I am about it.”

The tension between them dissolved into a more comfortable camaraderie as Sky offered a small gesture toward the direction of the dorms. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

They began their walk back through the forest, the sounds of the river fading behind them, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves and the distant hum of Alfea. Sky and Y/N moved in step with each other, their conversation light, touching on the campus, the upcoming classes, and the expectations looming over them both. There was a natural flow to their interaction that felt almost... easy.

When they reached the Fairy Hall, Sky hesitated for a moment before flashing Y/N a genuine smile. “Well, here you are. Fairy Hall, safe and sound.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling his eyes at Sky’s mock-seriousness. “Guess you weren’t kidding about that hero complex.”

With a final grin, Sky offered a casual wave before turning to head toward the Specialist Hall. “See you around, first-year.”

Y/N watched him disappear into the distance before turning to make his way inside. But as he took a step forward, something caught his eye—a figure slipping out from the shadows near the edge of the courtyard. He paused, narrowing his gaze, trying to make out the person’s features.

It was a girl, the same one he saw earlier walking back with that swimmer looking girl towards the school when they were seemingly arguing. She was still wearing the same clothes, her ginger hair pulled into a ponytail, and she was walking away from the halls, heading toward the forest. 

She wasn’t far enough yet that Y/N couldn’t spot the nervous twitch in her hands, like she was fidgeting with something. As she stepped into the moonlight, something golden caught his eye—small, shiny, like some type of jewelry that was faintly glowing with a trace of magic.

Y/N felt a twinge of unease. He didn’t know why, but something about the way she moved, the way her fingers fidgeted with the golden object, tugged at his instincts. He stood there for a moment, battling in his mind with what to do.

Clearly, she wasn’t heading for the dorms. Something in Y/N’s gut twisted, a nagging instinct that screamed at him to follow her, while his brain—not to be outdone—was urging him to run straight to Miss Dowling and let her handle it. There was the smart choice, and then there was… well, the choice Y/N usually made.

Naturally, he didn’t choose smart.

With a quiet huff, he slipped after her, his footsteps light as he shadowed her path towards the trees. His curiosity—and maybe a touch of concern—grew with every step. She was heading toward the Barrier. Toward the forest. And for reasons he couldn’t fully explain, that only made the gnawing feeling in his gut tighten. Quickening his pace, he stayed far enough back to not alert her, but close enough to see what she was up to. Because apparently, tonight, he was committed to bad decisions.

Aisha and Musa entered the Winx suite, their footsteps quiet as the tension between them grew. Stella was sprawled on the couch, taking selfies, the glow from her magical light casting her face in soft, flattering shadows.

"She's blanking my texts," Aisha said, her frustration laced with a hint of worry.

Musa’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp with sarcasm as she glanced at Stella. "Strange. I wonder if it's because she poured her heart out to you and you called her a freak?"

Her comment hung in the air, heavy with accusation, but Stella remained unmoved, still engrossed in her phone. Aisha’s lips tightened as she tried to keep her cool.

"Have you seen Bloom?" Aisha asked, directing her question to Stella.

"Not recently," Stella replied dismissively, barely sparing Aisha a glance as she focused on her screen.

Musa wasn’t convinced. Her gaze intensified, the light in her irises turning a faint purple glow as her expression darkened with suspicion. Stella, sensing Musa’s scrutiny, snapped her fingers, dispelling the magical light she had been using for her selfies. She finally looked up, defensive and annoyed.

"Yes?" Stella’s voice held a challenging edge.

"Your face looks so calm, yet you're racked with guilt," Musa said, her eyes never leaving Stella.

"You're a mind fairy," Aisha added, her voice taking on a sharper tone.

Before the tension could deepen, Terra stepped into the room, oblivious to the building atmosphere. She glanced between them, catching the subtle hostility in the air.

"A mind fairy? What's your connection? Memory, thoughts—" Terra started, her curiosity piqued.

"Not a great time," Musa interrupted, cutting her off.

Terra frowned, sensing something off. "Is everything OK?"

Stella’s fingers danced across her phone, ignoring the mounting tension.

"Not really," Aisha said, her frustration seeping through. "I'm looking for Bloom. For some reason, Stella's feeling guilty about it."

At that, Stella’s eyes flicked up, her annoyance flashing before she masked it with indifference. She rolled her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Could everyone save the drama for drama club?" Stella quipped.

Terra wasn’t having it. "Wasn't she talking to Sky?" she asked, her tone firm.

"And?" Stella replied, a coy smile tugging at her lips.

"And I know what happened to the last person who was 'talking to Sky.' I was here last year, remember," Terra said, her voice rising slightly, as if placing air quotes around the words.

Stella scoffed in response, turning back to her phone with a petulant smile, clearly dismissing the concern.

"Stella, where's Bloom?" Terra’s expression hardened, her tone leaving no room for games.

Stella glanced up through her lashes, realizing she had no way out. There was no escaping the questions now. Sighing, she dropped her phone into her lap, her face reflecting both guilt and defiance.

"She was feeling homesick, so I did a nice thing and I lent her my ring so that she could go back to the First World," Stella admitted, though her tone carried an air of justification, as if she hadn’t done anything wrong.

As they spoke, deep in the forest, far beyond the Barrier protecting Alfea, Bloom hurried through the dense trees, her steps quick and purposeful. The moonlight barely filtered through the canopy, casting a ghostly pallor over the cemetery ahead of her. The air was thick with moisture, the weight of the night pressing down on her as she neared an ancient mausoleum covered in vines and decay.

"Doesn't it only work outside the Barrier?" Terra asked, concern clear in her voice.

"Yes, and there's a gateway in the old cemetery," Stella replied, still acting as if this was all completely normal.

Bloom paused before the weathered stone structure, glancing over her shoulder to ensure she was alone. Behind her, Y/N kept his distance, careful not to be noticed. His instincts were on high alert, something in his gut screaming that whatever she was about to do, he needed to be there.

With a shaky breath, Bloom reached out and pressed her hand—Stella’s ring shimmering in the moonlight—against the cold stone of the mausoleum’s door. A soft glow pulsed from the ring, spreading out like liquid gold until it covered the entire surface. The door creaked open with a slow groan, revealing the darkness inside. Y/N held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her disappear inside.

"That's deep in the forest, Stella," Terra pressed, her voice taking on a more serious, worried tone. “You know what’s out there, right?”

Inside the mausoleum, Bloom found herself stepping into what looked like an old, abandoned warehouse—the same one where she’d hidden before Miss Dowling had discovered her. The air was thick with dust, carrying the stale scent of decay and neglect. Every corner felt eerily still, the kind of quiet that pressed down on you, almost suffocating in its heaviness. She glanced around briefly, memories flickering at the edges of her mind, before making her way to the main door. When she stepped outside, the familiar warmth of the California air washed over her, a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere inside.

Unnoticed, Y/N slipped into the warehouse behind her. His eyes swept over the unfamiliar space, the faint tension in the air alerting him to how far they’d ventured. It wasn’t until he followed her through the main door and felt the warm breeze on his skin that he realized, with a sharp pang of surprise, that they weren’t in the Otherworld anymore. This was somewhere else entirely.

Judging by the scenery—the dry hills, the faint scent of salt in the air—Y/N guessed they were somewhere on the West Coast. Probably California. But he didn’t have time to play detective because, despite growing up with a military dad who drilled him in endurance, Bloom was already a good half-mile down the road. He huffed, picking up his pace with a ragged breath escaping from at his lips. Seriously, how was she outpacing him like this?

As Y/N rushed to catch up with her, his mind raced just as fast as his legs. This clearly wasn’t just a casual stroll—she had a destination, and whatever it was, it must have been important with the way she was moving.

Back at the Winx suite, the tension in the air thickened. Just as Terra was about to ask Stella another question, a knock sounded on the door, sharp and urgent. Terra called out, “Come in!” The door creaked open, revealing Sam standing there, looking unusually anxious. His eyes darted around the room, his usual calm demeanor noticeably shaken. 

“Terra, have you seen Y/N?” Sam asked, his voice tinged with worry. “He hasn’t come back to our dorm, and I’ve been looking for him everywhere.”

Terra frowned, exchanging concerned glances with Aisha and Musa. “No, I haven’t seen him since the party,” she said slowly. “He said he was going outside to call his dad.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s not answering his phone either. I’ve checked every spot I showed him today and even more but I can’t find him anywhere. He’s just... gone.”

Musa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze flicking to Sam. For a brief moment, something flickered in her expression—interest, curiosity—but the weight of the situation kept her silent.

“I’m sorry, but who is Y/N?” Aisha interjected, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Sam glanced at her, then sighed, running a hand through his dark-brown hair again. “Y/N’s a first-year fairy, from the First World. Miss Dowling assigned me to mentor and guide him since he’s still getting used to everything here and we’re rooming together. He’s from the First World, Hawaii I think, and he said he’s known about his magic for awhile, but the Otherworld is completely new and—well, kind of a shock for him. But he’s smart. Quick learner.”

Before Sam could continue, Terra spoke up, her tone reflecting her growing concern, “The last time I saw him was at the party. He never came back though. I thought maybe he just needed some air, but if he hasn’t come back, I don’t know where he might have gone.”

Aisha nodded, absorbing the information while Terra’s frown deepened. “So, we’ve got a homesick Bloom who’s probably wandering around somewhere in the First World, hopefully not setting things on fire, and a first-year fairy also from the First World who’s gone missing as well? Perfect.”

Terra’s concern deepened. “I don’t believe Y/N would just go off somewhere without telling someone.”

Stella, who had also been silent as she sat in her guilt, put down her phone again, raising an eyebrow. “Missing? You sure he didn’t just... take a walk to be alone or something?”

Sam shook his head, clearly unsettled. “He’d at least tell me where he was going if he was. I’m telling you, something’s wrong. But, what’s this about your suitemate missing somewhere in the FIrst World to?”

Aisha and Musa exchanged a brief, uneasy glance before Aisha cleared her throat. “It’s... kind of a long story,” she started, her gaze flicking toward Stella, her words slow and deliberate. “But Bloom was feeling homesick. I think she wanted to go home to see her parents.”

Sam frowned, crossing his arms as he took in the information, but it was clear he wasn’t getting the full picture. “And how exactly did she manage to do that? Isn’t the Barrier supposed to prevent anyone from leaving like that?”

Musa’s eyes landed on Stella, her expression unyielding. “She had a little help,” she said pointedly, causing Stella to shift uncomfortably on the couch.

Sam’s eyes darkened, clearly picking up on the accusatory tone in the room. “Help from who?” he asked, his voice growing more intense.

Aisha sighed, still clearly upset but staying as calm as possible. “Stella lent Bloom her gateway ring, so she could go back to the First World.”

Sam’s expression hardened, his jaw clenched. “She’s beyond the Barrier? Alone?” His voice was laced with disbelief, mixed with a rising tide of anger. His eyes darted between the girls before settling back on Stella. “Do you even realize how dangerous that is?”

Stella opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, not entirely sure what to say in her defense. Her face reflected a mix of guilt and frustration, but Sam wasn’t waiting for an answer. He was already pacing, his thoughts spiraling.

Aisha, seeing the worry etched on Sam’s face, quickly put together the pieces. “Wait,” she said, her voice becoming more thoughtful. “Bloom and Y/N… they’re both from the First World, right?”

Sam stopped mid-pace, his eyes snapping toward Aisha. “Yeah, they are. Why?”

“It just seems like more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” Aisha said, her brows furrowing. “They’re both from the First World, both entirely new to the Otherworld, both personally assigned mentors by Miss Dowling... and now they’re both missing.”

Musa leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she considered Aisha’s words. “You’re right. It feels off. Too much of a coincidence for my taste.”

Sam’s concern deepened, his frustration palpable as he clenched his fists at his sides. “And now they’re both out there, somewhere, probably with no idea of the danger they’re walking into.”

Stella, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of the situation she had unintentionally caused, looked down at her hands, the guilt catching up to her. She wasn’t used to feeling this much responsibility, and it was starting to weigh on her more than she let on.

Aisha continued, her voice growing more urgent as she pieced it together. “Could it be possible Y/N might’ve followed Bloom, especially if he noticed something was off? They could both be in the First World right now, but neither of them have a way to get back.”

Sam nodded, his expression tight with concern. “It’s definitely possible,” he said, the tension in his voice unmistakable. “Y/N gives off that selfless, 'help others first' vibe. He’s the type of guy who’d follow someone if he thought they were in trouble, even if he didn’t know them well. I mean, we’ve only spent one day together, but I could already tell—given what’s he’s shared with me about where he grew up and his dad. If he thought Bloom was in trouble, no way he’d just let her go off alone.”

Aisha nodded firmly. “Then, we need to get ahead of this before it gets worse. We’ll have to tell Miss Dowling, let her know what’s going on. They’re not just two students wandering off—they’re basically fresh prey for whatever is out there beyond the Barrier.”

Sam, his frustration now mixing with fear, glared at Stella. “You had better hope nothing happens to them. This is more than just playing with magic.”

Stella, for once, had nothing to say. She looked away, her face stiff with the realization of what she had set into motion.

Y/N hurried to catch up to Bloom, his steps light but determined. His breath was shallow as he finally spotted her, standing at the corner of a white picket fence, her figure bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. She was motionless, her gaze fixed through a large dining room window. Y/N followed her line of sight, his heart clenching when he saw a couple inside—a man and a woman seated at the dinner table. He didn’t need to guess who they were. He already knew: her parents.

She was talking to them, but not directly. Instead, she held her phone close to her ear, her voice trembling as she spoke.

"Um... What if I... What if I... like, made a mistake?" Bloom's voice was faint, just above a whisper, but Y/N could hear the weight of her words as if they carried the burden of years of doubt.

Even though the phone wasn't on speaker, the soft, distant voices of her parents carried to Y/N's ears. The words were unclear at times, but the emotions behind them—concern, love, reassurance—were unmistakable.

"You're too special for here," her mother’s voice, faint but firm, echoed through the phone. "It's not who you are."

"What if you don't know who I am?" Bloom's voice cracked, her vulnerability clear in the way she clutched the phone tighter, her other hand trembling by her side.

Y/N, from his place of hiding, felt his own chest tighten. He knew this feeling. The uncertainty. The loneliness of being misunderstood by the people who were supposed to know you best. He wanted to look away, to stop intruding on this private moment, but something rooted him to the spot. Everything she said mirrored his own struggles with his father—always trying to live up to expectations, always feeling like he had to hide parts of himself.

Inside the house, Bloom’s mother rubbed her arms absentmindedly, and Y/N caught a glimpse of red marks, faint but unmistakable, like burns. He put two and two together, watching as Bloom’s expression faltered—guilt flooding her features. Whatever had happened, Y/N could feel the heaviness of it through his magic, and he knew, somehow, that it had been her doing.

"No, you're right. Alfea's where I belong now," Bloom said, her voice barely holding it together.

"Bloom, listen to me," her mother continued, her tone softer now. "Whatever you're going through, I know it sucks, but I also know you can handle it. I always knew your path wouldn't be like everyone else's."

Y/N’s breath hitched as Bloom let out a teary chuckle, fighting to keep herself together.

"Not like mine or your father's. That's hard. But at the end of it, I can't wait to see who you become."

Her father's voice chimed in then, warm and supportive. "We love you, Bloom."

Through sniffles and quiet sobs, Bloom replied, "I love you too."

The call ended, leaving a hollow silence in the air. Bloom stood there, her shoulders trembling as soft sobs escaped her. Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. He knew this moment wasn’t for him, wasn’t meant for anyone else. Slowly, he took a step back, ready to retreat and give her the privacy she so desperately needed. But as he turned, his foot made a faint sound against the gravel, and Bloom whipped around, her tear-streaked face locking onto him.

The call ended, leaving a hollow silence in the air. Bloom stood there, her shoulders trembling as soft sobs escaped her. Y/N’s heart clenched painfully. He knew this moment wasn’t for him, wasn’t meant for anyone else. Slowly, he stepped back, retreating into the shadows. The weight of her sorrow hung heavy in the air, pulling at him, but he knew she needed this moment alone. He needed to give her space, just like he had craved so many times himself.

He moved quietly, making sure his steps were soundless against the gravel. His pulse echoed in his ears as he carefully distanced himself from the corner of the fence, slipping further into the darkness of the street. With every step he took away from Bloom, the cool night air seemed to grow thicker, almost pressing down on him with the weight of everything he had just witnessed.

But still, he kept moving, his eyes never leaving her until the distance between them was enough to cloak him in the safety of anonymity. He let out a quiet breath, turning back towards the direction of the warehouse. His mind raced with thoughts and emotions, unsure of what exactly he had just seen but knowing, deep down, that it resonated with him in ways he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Y/N made his way back to the warehouse, the chill of the night air doing little to calm the whirlwind of thoughts running through his mind. His feet felt heavy, as though they carried the weight of everything he had just witnessed. Bloom’s words still echoed in his head, the vulnerability in her voice striking a chord deep within him. It was a moment he hadn’t expected to stumble upon, and it left him feeling raw, exposed in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

As he reached the entrance of the warehouse, the shadows inside seemed deeper than before, the quiet of the space pressing in on him. Y/N took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around, trying to piece together what his next move would be. The golden shimmer from Stella’s ring earlier had disappeared, and now the doorway to the Otherworld was sealed shut.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the door. "No way back. Now what?"

The silence of the warehouse felt oppressive, like it was swallowing him whole. He walked deeper into the space, his eyes scanning the empty room as he tried to figure out how Bloom had opened the passage in the first place. His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the doorframe where the gateway had once shimmered. There had to be something, some way to open it again.

But nothing happened. No golden light. No subtle hum of magic.

Y/N cursed under his breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. He felt stuck—both literally and figuratively. Trapped between two worlds and unsure of where he really belonged in either of them. He pressed his back against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the cold, hard floor. His head fell back against the brick, his eyes closing as he let out a long, tired sigh.

Y/N didn’t have time to rest, though. Just as he settled down, trying to figure out how to get back to the Otherworld, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. His eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Oh, shit. Was it Bloom? Or worse… someone from this world who wasn’t supposed to know about magic?

The door creaked open, and in walked Bloom, her expression a wild mix of confusion, suspicion, and the look of someone who was two bad decisions away from a breakdown as she immediately spotted him considering he was sitting in the most obvious space.

Y/N froze, like a deer caught in headlights, his mind going into full panic mode. Oh double shit.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with exhaustion, as if she didn’t have the energy to be fully angry yet.

Y/N pushed himself to his feet, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "I can explain," he started, though he wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to explain any of this. He knew how it looked—him lurking around in the shadows after following her all the way from Alfea.

Her eyes locked onto him like laser beams, the glare making him feel as though he’d just been caught red-handed stealing cookies from a grandma’s cookie jar.

"Who the hell are you?" Bloom demanded, her voice sharp but tired, like she just didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever circus this was about to become.

Y/N scrambled to his feet, hands shooting up in the universal gesture of ‘Please don’t murder me.’ "I can explain!" he blurted, though let’s be real—he had no explanation. None. He looked around frantically, as if the walls might suddenly provide some magical excuse for why he was creeping around like a weirdo.

Bloom crossed her arms, her eyebrow raised to the ceiling as she stepped closer, inspecting him like he was some deranged squirrel that had wandered into her personal space. "You’ve got about ten seconds before I call the cops," she warned, her patience thinner than a thread holding up a bad decision.

“Uh, uh... okay!” Y/N stammered, trying not to look like the world’s worst stalker. “So, funny story, really—uh, you see, I, um...” He took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room as his brain short-circuited. “...I’m not a serial killer!”

Bloom’s arms tightened, not amused in the slightest.

“No, wait! That came out wrong,” Y/N flailed, realizing how insane he must’ve sounded. “Look, I’m a student at Alfea—like, for real! I swear! First-year! Magic! Totally not creepy!” He motioned wildly to his face like that somehow made him look more trustworthy. “I just... saw you leave and thought you might need help? Maybe?”

Bloom’s glare didn’t waver. "So your bright idea was to follow me... to another world... in the middle of the night... alone?"

Y/N blinked, taking a step back. “Okay, in hindsight I can see how that may not have been the most reasonable decision on my part. But I swear, I had good intentions!”

Bloom rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was done with life. “Wow, congratulations. You’re not a serial killer. Gold star for you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, his posture softening as he realized his flailing explanations weren’t getting him anywhere. Time to try another approach. Something less chaotic and maybe a little more… honest.

“Look,” he said, dropping his hands and glancing away, his voice quieter now, more serious. “I know how this looks. Trust me, I get it. But I’m not here to cause trouble. I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words, something that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot or, worse, a stalker. “I overheard a little bit of what you were going through... back there with your parents.”

Bloom’s defensive stance didn’t drop, but her eyes flickered with surprise. He pressed on, knowing he had to tread carefully.

“I didn’t mean to listen,” he continued, his tone softer. “I really didn’t. I just... well, I could relate to what you were saying.” He swallowed, feeling that familiar knot in his stomach tighten. “I’ve gone through something similar with my dad.”

Bloom’s expression shifted slightly, a tiny crack in her hard exterior, though she still didn’t move. Y/N took it as a sign to keep going.

“I think we’ve got more in common than you realize,” Y/N began, his voice softer now, stepping forward just a little. “You and me… We’ve both grown up with this, haven’t we? Magic.” He paused, studying her face as she absorbed his words. “The only difference is, I’ve known about mine since I was a kid. I’m guessing you just discovered yours.”

Bloom’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t respond, her guard still up.

“In all that time,” Y/N continued, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. More than I can count, honestly. And I’m guessing you’ve made some too, right? It’s kind of impossible not to, with magic like this.” He looked down briefly, running a hand through his hair, remembering the weight of his own guilt. “I saw the burns on your mom’s arms,” he said gently. “And, trust me, I get it. That guilt? That feeling like everything you touch breaks, or worse? I’ve been there.”

Bloom’s expression wavered, something flickering in her eyes as she listened.

“I’ve screwed up a lot, uh... Bloom, right?” Y/N said, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and regret. “I froze an entire military base, in Hawaii of all places. You can imagine how easy it was trying to explain that to people. I  even almost drowned my dad, who acts like he’s fine, but I can still see him get tense when I’m near large sources of water. I’ve hurt people. People I care about. And it makes you feel like... like you’re dangerous. Like you can’t trust yourself anymore.”

Bloom’s posture softened, her arms loosening as she shifted her weight. For a moment, her expression flickered between exhaustion and curiosity, like she wasn’t sure whether to keep her guard up or let it drop.

“You almost drowned your dad?” she asked quietly, her voice losing some of its earlier edge. There was a strange mix of disbelief and understanding in her tone, like she was processing the idea of someone else living through a situation so close to her own.

Y/N let out a breath, relieved that she hadn’t immediately told him to get lost. “Yeah. I mean, it was an accident, obviously. But... that doesn’t really make it any easier, you know? The people who care about you say they’re fine, but deep down, you can see the way they look at you differently. Like they’re afraid.”

Bloom’s eyes flickered with recognition, and for the first time since their strange, chaotic encounter, she looked at him like he might actually understand what she was going through. She hugged her arms closer to her body, glancing toward the back of the warehouse.

After a beat of silence, she nodded toward one of the side rooms. "Come on. I’ve got a room set up through there. It’s probably better to stay here for now then risk walking back throught the forest. We can figure out the rest in the morning."

Y/N nodded, grateful for the chance before following her, the two of them moving toward the backroms with the grimy windows, likely spaces utlitzed as office rooms in the warehouse. The room was sparse—an old mattress, a few blankets, and some personal belongings scattered around. It wasn’t much, but it was clear this had been her sanctuary for a while, a place to escape from everything.

Bloom sat down on the edge of the mattress, letting out a long sigh. Y/N hovered near the doorway, still a little unsure of where he stood in all this, but feeling that at least the immediate threat of being kicked out had passed.

The room was quiet, the kind of stillness that made Y/N’s skin prickle with unease. He watched as Bloom settled on the edge of the mattress, her hands resting limply in her lap. She hadn’t fully relaxed, though. Her shoulders were still tense, her eyes darting around the sparse space as if she were expecting something—maybe trouble, maybe just more bad news. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, staying near the doorway as if keeping his distance would somehow make this situation less awkward.

For a few long moments, neither of them spoke. The tension hung in the air like a thick fog, both of them sitting with their own thoughts. The silence wasn’t necessarily hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was like they were both waiting for the other to make a move, to break whatever this strange, shared moment had become.

Bloom kept her eyes downcast, staring at the floor in front of her. Y/N wasn’t sure if she was processing everything or just trying to avoid any more conversation, but he figured it was best to give her some space. His mind was racing with everything they had both just confessed. He wasn’t sure what to say next, afraid to say the wrong thing and make it worse.

After what felt like an eternity, Bloom finally broke the silence, her voice low but not as sharp as before. “So... how’d you end up in the Otherworld?” she asked, glancing up at him, her expression curious but guarded.

Y/N blinked, a little caught off guard by the sudden question. He stepped further into the room, leaning against the wall as he thought about how to answer. “It’s kind of a long story,” he said with a dry chuckle, trying to ease the tension.

Bloom raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that clearly said, I’ve got time.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve known I was magical since I was a kid,” he began, his voice quieter now, more reflective. “My dad—he’s not magical, but we found out about my powers early on and he helped me keep them a secret. Tried to help me learn how to control them. But... well, things didn’t always go smoothly.”

Y/N chuckled bitterly, his gaze dropping to his hands as if the weight of his memories pressed down on him. “I did well for the most part, but... there were always these little moments when I lost it,” he started, his voice softening, laden with regret. “We pretty much figured out early on that my magic was influenced by my emotions, but we didn’t realize how much—how intense it could get.”

He paused, taking a shaky breath, the memories clearly weighing on him. His fingers twitched as he remembered that day. “One day, I found out my dad was getting deployed overseas for something really dangerous. And I just... I lost it. I mean, what’s a 16-year-old kid with magic he barely knows how to control supposed to do? Stop the government from sending his dad into a war zone?" Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, the bitterness in his tone deepening. "I couldn’t calm down. No matter how hard I tried, the anger and frustration just kept building, and I couldn’t control it. Next thing anybody knew, every pipe, faucet, and drain on the base started spitting out more water than they probably even held.” He swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping as he relived the chaos he had caused.

Across from him, Bloom remained silent, her expression softening with empathy. She knew all too well the feeling of emotions spiraling out of control, of your magic becoming something terrifying when you needed it to stop the most.

Y/N’s eyes were distant, as if he was back in that room, reliving every moment. “That wasn’t even the worst of it,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “When my dad realized what was happening, he tried to calm me down, like he always did. But I was so upset—at the situation, at myself for what I was doing—that I couldn’t get a grip on anything, least of all my magic.” His voice wavered slightly, a tremble beneath his words.

Bloom’s heart clenched as she listened, knowing that feeling of panic, that moment when everything slips through your fingers no matter how much you want it to stop. She watched him closely, seeing the guilt etched into every line of his face.

Y/N’s gaze flickered to Bloom’s for just a second before he looked away again, his voice quieter now. “The room we were in filled up with water faster than either of us could react. It didn’t affect me—my magic just doesn’t, I guess—but it affected him.” His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard. “He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get out. I was drowning my dad, and I couldn’t stop.”

For a moment, the silence between them was palpable, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging heavy in the air. Bloom could feel the knot forming in her own chest, the suffocating pressure of guilt that Y/N clearly carried with him. She had felt it herself, every time she thought of her mom’s burns, every time she thought of what her fire had done.

“I got a grip—barely—and stopped the water before it was too late,” Y/N continued, his voice strained. “But after that... things between me and my dad were never the same. It wasn’t his fault, really. He didn’t blame me, but I could see it in his eyes—he didn’t trust me anymore. And honestly? I didn’t trust myself.”

Y/N ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath as he leaned back against the wall. “That’s when Miss Dowling showed up. My dad knew I couldn’t stay at the base—it was too risky. People were paranoid, on edge, waiting for something else to go wrong. I mean, the base in Hawaii nearly froze over like it had been hit by a winter storm straight out of Michigan. One more slip-up, one more incident, and people would start connecting the dots. If they figured out I was the one behind it all… my life would've been turned completely upside down.” He let out a small, humorless laugh, glancing up to meet Bloom’s gaze. “I didn’t exactly fit into the normal world. And it wasn’t like I had a guidebook for being... whatever this is. Alfea became my only choice.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the room in a thick, heavy silence. For a moment, neither of them spoke, both lost in their own thoughts.

Bloom shifted slightly, her arms wrapped around her knees as she looked at him with understanding in her eyes. “I know what that’s like,” she said quietly, her voice soft but steady. “Hurting people you care about because you can’t control it. That guilt... it doesn’t really go away, does it?”

Y/N’s eyes met hers, and for the first time, he saw that she wasn’t just listening—she understood. Truly. It was like she could feel every ounce of his pain because she had carried it herself.

Bloom’s gaze softened further, her voice carrying a fragile weight. “My mom... those burns... I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I did. And I can’t ever take that back.” She swallowed, her voice wavering just slightly. “It’s not just the guilt—it’s the fear. That constant feeling like you might hurt someone again if you’re not careful.”

Y/N nodded, the weight of Bloom's confession settling between them like a thick, shared burden. He could feel the truth of her words, the way they echoed his own experience. It wasn't just about losing control—it was the fact that, unlike everyone else around them, they didn’t grow up in a world that understood magic. The other students at Alfea, as reckless as some of them were, had grown up with people who knew what magic was, people who could teach them how to control it, guide them, and, more importantly, who could understand and forgive their mistakes because they had made those same mistakes themselves. They had families who knew the risks, mentors who had lived through it all, seen the dangers firsthand. The Otherworld wasn’t new or strange to them—it was home.

But for Bloom and Y/N, it was different. Magic had blindsided their lives. Y/N’s dad didn’t know what to do when his son froze an entire base or nearly drowned him. He barely understood the power his son carried, and once he saw just a fraction of it, the fear in his eyes was enough to change everything between them. It wasn’t the kind of fear that came from misunderstanding—it was the fear of seeing something dangerous in someone you love and realizing you have no idea how to protect them or yourself from it. The same fear that Y/N could see in Bloom's eyes when she talked about her mom’s burns. That kind of shift in perspective cut deeper than any physical wound, because it wasn’t just about fear—it was about losing the trust of the people who mattered most, and knowing that no matter what you did, that trust might never come back.

Y/N shifted slightly, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. He glanced over at Bloom, her eyes downcast as she wrapped her arms tighter around her knees. She looked smaller than before, like the weight of her own story had pressed her into herself. His gaze softened, and after a moment, he broke the silence.

“So... what about you?” Y/N asked quietly, his voice low and steady. “I think I put together bits and pieces, but... what’s your story?”

Bloom glanced up at him, her eyes searching his for a second as if weighing whether or not to trust him. She sighed, running a hand through her fiery hair, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly, though her guard wasn’t completely down.

“There's not much to tell,” Bloom began, her voice softer now, a little less guarded. “I grew up in California. Suburbs, you know? My parents are... well, they’re great. Normal. Loving. But they don’t know anything about magic. I didn’t even know until a few months ago.”

Y/N listened quietly, noticing the way her voice wavered just a bit. He didn’t push her—he knew better than anyone how hard it was to relive those moments. Bloom’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, like she was trying to make sense of her own words before speaking them aloud.

Bloom shifted slightly on the mattress, her fingers fidgeting with a stray thread from the blanket. "It started with a fight," she continued, her voice soft but steady. "My mom and I... we don’t really see eye to eye. She’s always been the type who had this image of what her perfect daughter should be—cheerleader, top of her class, the whole thing. And I’m just... not that." Bloom gave a small, bitter laugh, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself.

Y/N stayed silent, sensing there was more to the story.

"One night, things got really bad between us. I was furious, and I couldn’t calm down." She paused, her hands tightening around the edge of the blanket. "And that’s when it happened. The fire... it just started. It was like everything I was feeling inside was too much, and it just—"

She broke off, swallowing hard, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. "I didn’t mean to... but the fire spread to their room. My mom... she got burned, really badly." Bloom’s voice trembled with guilt, and she quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to push the tears away. "I could hear them screaming. I wanted to stop it, but I didn’t know how."

The weight of her words hung in the air, thick with the shared understanding between them. Y/N’s heart ached in his chest as he watched her struggle with the memory. He knew that kind of guilt—the kind that stuck with you, that didn’t go away no matter how much time passed.

"They don’t even know it was me," Bloom whispered, her voice barely audible now. "They don’t know what I am... what I did." She finally looked up at Y/N, her eyes filled with a pain that mirrored his own. "I slept in this warehouse for weeks after that. I was terrified I’d hurt them again, that I couldn’t control it. I’d sneak out at night and stay here until... Miss Dowling found me."

Y/N’s brow furrowed as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He knew exactly what she meant—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing realization that no matter how hard you tried, your magic always seemed to have a mind of its own.

“I get it,” he said, his voice sincere. “It’s terrifying. Not knowing when or how it’ll come out again... but also knowing it’s there, waiting.”

Bloom nodded, her gaze distant, lost in thought. “It’s why I came back here tonight. I thought maybe seeing my parents... maybe being here again would help me figure it out. But I don’t belong here anymore, and I don’t know if I ever did.”

Y/N, still leaning against the wall, raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Wait, how did you even get here? I mean... it’s not like there’s a direct flight between the Otherworld and California.”

Bloom blinked, coming back to the moment. “Oh, right... Stella,” she said, her tone holding a hint of reluctance. “She gave me her gateway ring. It opens a portal back to the First World.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait—she just handed it over?”

“Well, not exactly,” Bloom muttered, rubbing the back of her neck. “It was more like I was desperate, and Stella... she understood that. So, yeah, she lent it to me. Honestly, I think it was more of a ‘get out of her hair’ type of thing.” She shrugged, but Y/N could hear the gratitude in her voice, buried beneath the layers of frustration.

Y/N let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “A gateway ring... That explains a lot.” He glanced at her, studying her face for a moment before speaking again. “But you don’t think you belong here? You really think that?”

Bloom hesitated, her gaze falling to her hands. “I don’t know where I belong,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost fragile. “I thought this place... home... would give me some answers, but it’s just made me realize how far away from normal my life has gotten.”

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but something caught his attention. A faint noise, barely perceptible, coming from outside. It was a soft rustling sound, like leaves being disturbed in the distance, but in the stillness of the warehouse, it felt louder than it should’ve been.

He paused, his body tensing slightly as his eyes darted toward the window. “Did you hear that?”

Bloom furrowed her brow, glancing in the same direction but not seeming overly concerned. “What? I didn’t hear anything.”

Y/N hesitated, his instincts on high alert for a moment before he forced himself to relax. “Never mind. Probably just the wind.”

Y/N had barely relaxed when he noticed something unsettling. It was faint at first, a shadow that didn’t quite belong. His eyes flickered to the wall, where an unfamiliar silhouette moved, just beyond the confines of the room. It wasn’t his, nor was it Bloom’s, and there was no way it could be coming from anything else in the sparsely furnished space.

He straightened up slowly, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. As the shadow shifted again, Y/N felt his heart rate spike, his body instinctively tensing.

Bloom, still sitting on the edge of the mattress, noticed his change in demeanor. She turned, her eyebrows furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slowly rose from his sitting position on the floor, standing up on his legs at a snail’s space while looking through  the grimy window above and behind Bloom, peering out into the open space of the warehouse. His breath caught in his throat.

“Y/N?” Bloom asked, more urgently this time, standing up from the mattress herself. She followed his gaze, turning  closer to the window to see through it’s blinds what had petrified him in fear.. The moment her eyes locked onto the scene outside, a gasp escaped her lips.

In the dim light of the warehouse, just a few feet from them, stood a creature that seemed like it had crawled out of their worst nightmares. It was tall and emaciated, with skin that looked like charred, cracked stone. Its long, skeletal limbs hung loosely at its sides, while its head twitched unnervingly, eyes glowing with an ominous red light. The faint shimmer of molten cracks ran down its entire body, giving off the impression that it was a living, breathing furnace that had cooled too soon. The creature’s entire form seemed to absorb the surrounding shadows, blending in with the darkened warehouse as if it were part of the gloom itself.

Its head snapped toward them with a disturbing speed the moment Bloom locked eyes on it, the glowing embers of its gaze fixating on them like a predator that had just spotted its prey.

"Shit!" Y/N cursed, stumbling backward, his heart hammering in his chest as the creature’s burning eyes seemed to pierce straight through the window. Bloom let out a panicked gasp, jumping back in fright, her hands shaking as she stumbled into Y/N.

As she scrambled, her suddenly sweaty hands lost grip of something—Stella’s ring. In the shock of the moment, her grip faltered, and before she knew it, the ring slipped from her grasp, clattering loudly as it fell through one of the metal grates on the floor.

Both of them froze for a moment, eyes wide, as they watched the ring disappear through the grate with a soft metallic clink.

Y/N blinked, staring at the grate in disbelief. "Seriously?" he muttered, his voice laced with sarcastic exasperation. "Of all the times to drop the only thing that can get us out of here."

Bloom looked mortified, her eyes darting between Y/N and the grate. "I didn’t mean to!" she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper as she frantically glanced back toward the window.

The creature was still standing in the open warehouse, its eerie eyes locked on their hiding spot, its head tilting slightly as if trying to pinpoint their exact location.

Y/N shot Bloom a pointed look before his gaze turned back towards the monster on the other side of the wall. "And this is exactly why you people never survive in horror films."

Sky pushed the door to his dorm room open with a weary sigh, his whole body dripping wet from the shower. The towel wrapped around his waist clung to his hips, while droplets of water slid down his skin and into the messy strands of his blonde hair. His muscles ached from the day's training, but his mind raced with a different kind of exhaustion—one tied to the growing web of tension he couldn't quite shake.

As he stepped inside, his eyes widened in surprise. There, sitting on his bed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was Stella. She leaned casually on the edge of the mattress, her long legs crossed, and her blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders. The subtle shimmer of her top sparkled in the dim light, catching his attention for a fleeting moment. Her expression, though playful on the surface, had a hint of something more—vulnerability, uncertainty. She watched him, her head slightly tilted, her lips parted as if she had been waiting for him to speak first.

Sky let out a frustrated sigh, his hand brushing through his damp hair. He made his way to the dresser, pulling open a drawer to grab some dry clothes.

"You can't be in here, Stel," he muttered, keeping his back to her as he fished for a his trousers. "If Silva finds out..."

Before he could finish the thought, he felt her presence behind him, warm and close. Stella rose from the bed, stepping softly until her body was pressed against his back. Her hand ghosted over his bare skin, making his muscles tense at the unexpected touch. She leaned into him, her voice a soft whisper against his ear.

"I'll leave before the sun comes up," she murmured, her lips brushing against his shoulder in a delicate kiss. Her fingers traced down the length of his arm, drawing shivers in their wake.

Sky’s jaw clenched as he stepped away from her, turning to face her with a mix of frustration and weariness. "You can't pull this shit, Stel... You broke up with me."

Stella's once-confident demeanor crumbled at his words. She stepped back slightly, her arms dropping to her sides. The glimmer in her eyes dimmed as she looked at him, now appearing smaller, more fragile.

"No, I know," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Sky shook his head, exasperation creeping into his tone. "I didn't hear from you all summer, and then I say two words to a first year?"

"I said I know, OK?" Stella cut in, her voice trembling now, her mask of indifference shattered. "I'm sorry."

Her eyes met his, filled with regret, and Sky’s chest tightened. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, confusion, or something more complicated swirling inside of him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another one of her games.

"What are you doing here?" His voice softened, searching her face for answers.

Stella hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got jealous."

Sky’s brows furrowed in disbelief, and before he could respond, she spoke again, quicker this time, as though she was anticipating his reaction.

"Yeah, I know I'm not allowed to, but I did. And I did something really stupid." Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke. "Now they all think I'm a monster."

Sky’s expression softened at that, and for a moment, his heart ached for her. "Oh, Stel..." he started, but she cut him off.

"No, please," she pleaded, her eyes glistening with desperation. "I can't sleep in there, Sky. In a room where everybody hates me." She swallowed hard, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "Please. Tonight, can I just stay with you? Next to someone who doesn't... hate me."

The room was silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. Sky’s gaze softened, and his shoulders dropped as the tension drained from his posture. He could see it now—the cracks in her usually perfect facade, the fear hiding behind her bravado.

"You're better than you think you are, Stella," he said quietly, his voice steady but gentle. "Other people can't see that if you don't."

Bloom and Y/N hit the ground hard, their backs pressed up against the cold concrete wall as their breaths came out in panicked, shallow gasps. The creature's distorted growls echoed throughout the warehouse, sending a chill down Bloom's spine. Her chest heaved, panic clear in her eyes as she whispered in a strained voice, barely able to control her fear.

“What the hell is that thing?” she hissed in a frantic whisper, her hands clutching the edge of the broken concrete behind her.

Y/N's heart was pounding so fast he thought it might burst from his chest. His eyes stayed locked on the ground, too terrified to look up in case the creature’s gaze might catch him through the darkened corners. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice shaky, “but it had to have followed us... from the gateway. Guess I wasn’t the only one doing the following tonight.”

They both held their breath, the silence of the warehouse stretching out unbearably. Seconds dragged on like hours, and for a moment, it felt like the creature had moved on. The air around them was thick with tension, each heartbeat deafening in the quiet space.

Then, the silence shattered. Glass exploded above their heads, spraying shards everywhere as the monster’s twisted, clawed hand burst through the window with a snarl. Its guttural growl reverberated through the space as its fingers clawed wildly, searching for flesh.

Bloom screamed, her body instinctively jerking away from the reaching claws. “Shit, shit, shit!” Y/N cursed, scrambling to his feet as they dodged the creature’s grasp, scrambling across the floor. He tried to summon his magic, but his fingers trembled too much. His mind was a chaotic mess, panic overriding any focus he had.

He clenched his fists, his jaw tight as he whispered through gritted teeth, “The one time I need you to flare up and lose control and nothing? Magic is such an ironic, cold-hearted bitch.”

Bloom grabbed his arm, yanking him toward a narrow corridor where a metal gate led into the crawl spaces under the warehouse. “This way!” she shouted, pulling him along as the monster roared behind them, trying to break through the window and wall  as they descended into the tight space. Bloom softly shutting the floor gate in hopes of not letting alerting it to their location.

Her hopes and prayers were not answered.

Their breaths were ragged as they crawled, the clanging sound of the monster’s claws against the metal grate sending vibrations through their bones. The confined space felt suffocating, but it was their only escape. The pipes lining the walls hissed with steam, their warmth contrasting sharply with the cold terror clinging to their skin.

Then Bloom spotted it—Stella’s ring. It glinted just a few feet ahead, on the other side of another metal gate. "There it is!" she cried out, her voice filled with desperation.

She crawled toward the gate, her fingers reaching through a small hole to grasp the ring. But it was just out of reach, her fingertips barely grazing the surface. “Come on, come on,” she whispered to herself, stretching as far as her arm would allow, her voice growing more frantic. “Please, please, please…”

Suddenly, a deafening roar filled the space as the monster crashed through the opposite end, barreling toward them. Its grotesque form moved faster than Bloom had anticipated. Her heart jumped into her throat, panic flooding her senses.

“It’s too late!” Y/N shouted, his hand grabbing her arm, yanking her back just as the creature's claws swiped toward where she had been. The monster's hand snatched the ring from the ground, and with a viscious snarl, it clutched it tightly in its grotesque fist.

Y/N’s mind raced, searching for any sliver of magic he could control. His fingers twitched, and he focused on the hissing steam escaping from the pipes. With a burst of adrenaline, he manipulated the steam, using it to form a scorching barrier that erupted between them and the monster. The creature shrieked in agony as the steam obscured its vision, giving them precious seconds to escape.

“Go, go, go!” Bloom urged, pulling Y/N forward as they crawled through the narrow path, their bodies barely fitting through the tight spaces.

They burst through another gate, kicking it open just as the creature roared behind them, its footsteps growing fainter as they ran back into the main space of the warehouse. Both of them were out of breath, their bodies trembling from the adrenaline coursing through them. They made a break for it, desperate to get away.

As they ran, they nearly crashed into Miss Dowling, who stood waiting for them at the entrance. Her calm, composed presence was a stark contrast to their frantic energy. "Don't stop now," she commanded, her voice steady but firm.

She pointed toward the door where they had entered from the Otherworld. The gateway shimmered open again, casting a faint golden light.

Bloom and Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. They sprinted for the door, their lungs burning as they crossed the threshold. Miss Dowling stayed behind, and with a wave of her hand, she sealed the portal behind them, cutting off the terrifying sight of the monster charging down the stairs after them while she dealt with it.

Once they were back in the First World, both Bloom and Y/N collapsed onto the grass outside the mausoleum, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath. Their hearts pounded so loudly it was hard to hear anything else. For a moment, they lay there in stunned silence, the cool night air hitting their sweat-covered skin.

“Are you guys OK?” A sudden voice startled them both, causing Bloom to gasp and Y/N to let out a yelp. They looked up to see Aisha, Musa, Terra, and Sam standing in front of them, their faces etched with concern.

"Yeah," Bloom gasped, trying to compose herself. "Yeah, yeah, I think so."

Y/N, still catching his breath, shot them a bewildered look. “Speak for yourself. I’m over here still trying not to piss my pants. What the hell was that thing?”

Terra frowned thoughtfully, her voice calm but grim. “I’m pretty sure it’s called a Burned One.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, the pieces of his earlier conversation with Sky falling into place. “That’s a Burned One?” he exclaimed, incredulous. “What the fuck? No wonder everyone here is shitting their pants.”

Despite the tension in the air, the others couldn’t help but laugh at Y/N’s outburst, even Bloom managing a small smile.

“I like him,” Musa said with a grin, nudging Terra lightly.

Sam stepped forward, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. “Your first day and you’ve already gone and probably gotten me banned from the mentor roster for life. Don’t do that again.”

Y/N winced, patting his friend on the back. “Sorry, man. I just saw her walking alone and didn’t want something to happen to her out here by herself.” He glanced around warily. “Now I see why everyone’s so freaked about going beyond the Barrier.”

A tense silence followed until Bloom’s eyes widened with a sudden, dawning realization. Her stomach dropped, and her breath caught in her throat. "Wait... where’s Stella?"

The others exchanged confused glances, not understanding the urgency in her voice. Aisha tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion.

"She’s at school. Why?" Aisha asked, clearly not following Bloom’s line of thinking.

Y/N, still catching his breath, turned to look at Bloom. His expression shifted from confusion to grim understanding, his face paling as the pieces started falling into place. The heavy weight of what had just transpired settled between them, thick and suffocating.

Bloom’s eyes were wide, a sinking feeling gnawing at her insides as the memory flashed before her—the twisted monster, its grotesque hand swiping at her hand in the crawlspace before Y/N pulled her back. This was not going to be easy to explain to the Princess in the morning.

"That thing just took her ring."

To be continued...

☀️ | Prince Sky Masterlist | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[supercap2319]

Brandon: "How many times do you and Sky have sex?"

Y/N: "Three times a day. Sometimes five. Depending on how much Silva runs you guys through training."

[shadowdaddies]

Quality Entertainment

Ruhn x Reader

You and Ruhn have different ideas about what qualifies as good television, but can you agree on other forms of entertainment.

A/N: I'm thinking about Ruhn Danaan a LOT and I only see it getting worse after January 30

Warnings: fluffy smut below the cut, nsfw, oral f!receiving, minors dni

You were curled up in Ruhn’s lap on the couch, trying to focus on the movie you were watching together. He had his arms around you, tucking you into his warm chest as his hands absent-mindedly traced patterns along your arms, your waist, your legs. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling, nestling further into your boyfriend’s lap where you were met with the evidence that he was not entirely focused on the movie as well.

You let out a soft laugh, glancing up at Ruhn as you rolled your hips harder against him. He let out a soft groan as his fingers gripped your hips harshly. “You seem distracted, Ruhn. I thought this was supposed to be ‘a cinematic masterpiece’ as you said,” you teased, trailing your hand up and threading it through his hair. Ruhn pinned you with a stare. “I didn’t say it was a ‘cinematic masterpiece,’ just that it’s better than that trashy reality TV you and Bryce watch.” 

You snickered, aware that Fangs and Bangs wasn’t award-winning content, but you refused to admit that to Ruhn because his reactions to the show were what you enjoyed most. “Mhmm, well you’d better keep your eyes on the screen, then. I’d hate to get in the way of quality entertainment,” you bantered, swinging your leg over so that you were straddling his lap facing him. 

Ruhn smirked, catching onto your game. He returned his attention to the TV behind you as he ran his hands over your thighs, teasing you with a feather-light touch. Challenge accepted. You pulled your top off, leaving you in your shorts and black lace bra. You inched closer to Ruhn so that your chests were barely touching, smirking as his breath quickened, clearly straining to maintain his focus on the screen. You began kissing and sucking at the exposed skin on his neck, licking your way up the side of this throat to his ear where you whispered, “enjoying the show?”

Ruhn swallowed but kept his gaze ahead, his expression changing to smugness as he brought his hands up your bare waist and undid the clasp on your bra. You sucked in a breath as your nipples were exposed to the cool air. Ruhn lazily dragged his hands to your breasts, drawing slow, teasing circles before lightly pulling and twisting each of your nipples. You bit back a moan as you tried to maintain the sense of dominance you had in the situation, but Ruhn could scent how aroused you were. Your breaths were shallow, and you were trying to calculate your next move when Ruhn practically shouted, “movie’s over,” and pulled you closer to him. He wasted no time taking one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue and swirling before dragging his lip ring along the sensitive peak, and repeating his movements on the other breast. 

You were gasping as you rolled your hips against him. “Fuck, Ruhn, please,” you murmured and pulled his chin up to kiss you. You reached down to palm him through his jeans, causing his mouth to part enough for you to slip your tongue in, moving in tandem with the roll of your hips. Ruhn flipped you onto your back, his arms caging you in on the couch. He slowly kissed and licked his way down your torso, reaching the top of your shorts before he pulled them down, leaving you completely naked while he remained fully clothed above you. 

Ruhn shifted down on the couch, licking and biting the insides of your thighs as his fingertips grazed your abdomen. He dragged his bottom lip along each side of your center, teasing you with his lip ring while pinning down your hips with one arm. He brought up his other hand, swirling and dipping slightly into your center. “Gods, you’re so wet, princess.” You pushed your hips against his arm holding you in place, “do something about it then, prince.” Ruhn removed his hand to give you a mock bow before bringing his finger up to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. You hooked your legs around his back and he smirked, making eye contact with you as he dragged his lower lip right over your sensitive clit. You moaned loudly, instinctively rolling your hips towards him as he began to suck your clit, bringing two fingers up to curl inside of you at a vicious pace. You hit your high with a scream, arching your back as Ruhn continued licking and sucking your clit until your legs were shaking.

When you finally came down from your orgasm, you looked at Ruhn who was smiling at you. “That is my favorite form of entertainment,” he said, scooping you up bridal style as he carried you to the bedroom to continue.

[profound-imagination]

Come Back, Be Here - Ruhn Danaan

A/N: Longest Ruhn fic I’ve ever written! Did I break my own heart while writing this? Yes. Did I make myself cry while writing this? Also yes. Please enjoy! Angst to Fluff I think? Not properly proof read!❤️

T/W: Talks of injury and torture. Memory loss. I think that’s it! Let me know if I’ve missed any!

W/C: 5.5k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Beep…beep…beep…

“Sorry, what was that?” You asked Declan, pulling yourself back from listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the buzzing of the hospital lighting. Six months. He’d been held captive and tortured for six months until Bryce had returned with help and they’d rescued him. Flynn was sporting some nasty wounds and Ithan had a broken leg but both of them looked a damn sight better than Ruhn apparently. Dec himself was covered in dust and blood and sporting cuts and bruises. People always seemed to underestimate Declan but he was a warrior, just like his brothers.

“I said you need to be prepared for what you’re going to see, he looks bad Y/N and it is bad but the witches say he’s fighting to come back to us.” Unconscious, that was how they’d found him, breathing, but unconscious and he was yet to wake up. You had been told it was his body’s way of working to heal itself. “I’m scared.” You admitted to them for the first time since he’d been taken, pulling your hair out of the button on your coat it had tangled itself round in your haste to get here after Dec had called you to say they had him. “I’m prepared, I need to see him Dec.” He nodded and Flynn grabbed your hand and limped into the room beside you as Dec opened the door.

It was like your mind couldn’t comprehend what you were seeing. It was the little orange bottles of various medications that you spotted first, lined up neatly on the table next to Ruhn’s bed. Your grip on Flynn’s hand tightened as you took him in. Broken. Bruised. “His hair.” Was the first thing you said. Gone was the long midnight blue hair you’d spent so many hours braiding and styling, it had obviously been shaved at some point and was at the beginning stages of growing back. Then your eyes roamed over his face, black eyes, a tube up his nose, that was clearly broken, cuts and bruises littered his beautiful face.

It was his arms you saw next, again, littered with cuts and bruises but something else, something else was different, wrong, about his arms. It took a few moments for your brain to catch up and Dec and Flynn waited for you to catch up with what they already knew. “Where’s his tattoos?” You asked quietly, your lunch trying to make its way back up your throat. “They, uh, I mean we think, we think they cut them out or that his arms were completely skinned.” Flynn told you as gently as he could, squeezing your hand tighter. You swallowed the vomit that had crawled up your throat and closed your eyes, letting the tears fall. It only got worse when you opened your eyes again to look at Ruhn once more and you saw his chest.

What appeared to be letters had been branded into his skin. T.R.A.I.T.O.R. Other words had been carved into his skin using what you assumed was a very sharp, very thin blade. You threw up then, falling to your knees and spilling the contents of your stomach on the hospital room floor. Ruhn’s brothers were by your side in an instant. Flynn holding your hair out of your face, Declan rubbing your back in soothing circles. “What else?” You croaked when you finally stopped retching. “We assume plenty of mental trauma and just a lot more cuts and bruises, he’s been whipped, his back was in ribbons but Paxia managed to heal a lot of it, it’s all scabbed over now. We aren’t sure how much he went through though, how many times they took him apart and put him back together again.”

Days, weeks you spent sitting at his bedside waiting for him to wake up. “You should go to the house, have a shower, get changed, have something to eat and a nap, we’ll let you know if he wakes up.” Tharion said gently, you’d had this same argument with Ithan, Dec and Flynn all separately over the last few weeks. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.” You muttered weakly from your seat on the chair next to his bed, knees to your chest and head resting on your knees. “He won’t, I promise I’ll stay right here until you get back.” He told you. “Why hasn’t Bryce been to visit?” You asked him instead, trying to change the subject. “She’s with Hunt, trying to break through to him, he’s her mate.” You huffed “Ruhn’s her brother.” You’d also had this argument with the others as well. “He wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself, Y/N.” You sighed, he was right. “They sent you as a last resort to get me out of here didn’t they?” He nodded, “They know you can’t say no to me.” He smirked.

“I never told him.” Tharion crouched in front of you, “Told him what?” He asked, tucking a greasy strand of hair behind your ear. “How I feel about him.” Tharion smiled gently, “I think he knows kid, I think he’s known since you were a kid and you told him he could come live in your treehouse because his dad was always mad and you thought it was because his house was haunted.” You flushed with embarrassment. “He must’ve thought I was a stupid kid.” Tharion laughed, “I can picture little you, having the biggest crush on him.” You nodded, “You and Bryce were always the most important things in his life, still are, he just doesn’t see one of you as a little sister anymore.” Dec’s voice pulled your attention towards the door. “Go home, come back in a few hours, we’ll be here.” Tharion held out a hand to you and you took it and let him pull you to your feet. You placed a gentle kiss on Ruhn’s forehead. “I won’t be long.” You told him and then followed Tharion out the door.

“Wake up, Y/N, wake up!” You startled awake at Tharion shaking you, “He woke up!” You shot off the sofa and beelined towards the door, “Wait!” Tharion called after you, “You need to put trousers on!” You stopped and turned as a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie hit you in the face and you pulled them on as quickly as you could.

You hated running, detested it in fact, but as you ran down the hallways of the hospital to Ruhn’s room it seemed like you couldn’t move fast enough and that the halls stretched on forever. As you rounded the corner to his room you saw Ithan, he took a step towards you as you approached, “Y/N-“ you breezed past him and into the room. “Where is she? Dec? Where is she?” You heard Ruhn ask as you rounded the curtain that surrounded his bed. “She’s coming.” Dec told his brother “Ruhn?” You choked out as you approached his bed and threw your arms around him and sobbed. “Dec, who is this? Where’s Lidia?” His words hit you like a physical blow and you reeled back from him. “Ruhn it’s me, it’s Y/N.” You told him as he studied you. “I’ve never met you before.” He said, “Did you help Bryce?” You looked at Dec and Flynn who both looked equally confused. “Bro, do you really not know who she is?” Flynn asked, gesturing to you. Ruhn shook his head, “No, I told you, we’ve never met.” He said, your throat felt thick and tears stung your eyes. “You’ve known me since I was 5-“ your voice cracked and you backed towards the curtain.“You’re my biggest hero.” The tears fell and you turned and fled.

They found you at the house, staring blankly at the floor. Tharion approached you first and crouched in front of you, much like he’d done earlier that day. “We spoke to Pax. She thinks his mind has blocked things out, that he blocked them out while he was down there as a way to protect those he cares about.” You didn’t move, “But he knows all of you, why was it just me?” You sniffled, he sighed gently,

“She doesn’t know, maybe because you’re half fae and you haven’t made the drop yet, he wanted to protect you but she seemed confident the memories would come back, that you should visit and talk to him, tell him stories and help him remember.” You shook your head, “I’m a stranger to him now, he won’t want me there.” Flynn sat next to you, “That’s rubbish and you know it.”

You didn’t go back. It had been two weeks and he was coming home today. You’d cleaned the entire place top to bottom and changed the sheets on his bed from where you’d stayed there while he was being held, erasing any sign of yourself from his bedroom. Ithan had text you that they were on their way back as you flicked through the scrap book you’d made. Hypaxia had insisted his memories would return with a little help so you caved. You’d filled the pages with everything you could think of from his friendship with his brothers, to Bryce, to his favourite places.

The door swung open and there he was, arms wrapped around Dec and Flynn as they helped him into the house. “Hey kid!” Tharion beamed at you and you gave him a small smile in return as Ithan wrapped you in a hug. Dec and Flynn sat Ruhn on the sofa and took their place next to him. “Can I get you anything?” You asked him, shier than you’d ever been around Ruhn. He shook his head, “Y/N, right?” He asked, you nodded, “That’s me.” You said quietly, “They tell me you’re important to me, I’m trying to remember why but I can’t” You shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, you’re alive and home, that’s what’s important, besides, I think you were always more important to me than I was to you.” You didn’t miss the pitying looks from everyone else in the room.

“What’s that?” Ruhn asked after the others had dispersed. The assholes leaving you alone with him. You handed him the scrapbook you’d made with a bashful smile on your face. “They said to make something for you to look at to maybe help jog your memory, so, uh that’s what I did.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, you felt pathetic, desperate. You watched his hands instead as he took great care in opening the book. You watched him smile at the pages with his brothers and his friends, he beamed at the Bryce pages. “You went to Embers?” He asked, a shocked look on his face. “You told me once you wished she’d been your mom, even though she’s younger than you. She was like a mother to you, plus she had adorable pictures of you and Bryce.” He studied your face. “That’s like 8 hours each way.” You shrugged, “It was for you.”

You watched mortified as he got to your pages. He ran a deft finger down the first picture. “Is this us?” He asked showing you the picture. Ruhn was beaming down at you, sat in his lap, hands on his face smiling back up at him. You smiled bashfully. “Uh yeah, that was the day we first met, I was 5, I think you were around 55. Ember and my mom were friends and I was a super timid kid, super shy and awkward so they organised a play date with Bryce who’s always been my polar opposite. Then you turned up and Bryce was so excited to see you, and quite literally dragged me over to you. She made me tell you my name and then she made you play with us. Except I didn’t play, I just stood there as she started setting up the tea party we were having that I had no interest in. I just wanted to go back to my colouring. You coaxed me over to you telling me that you wanted to show me a magic trick. Well of course I couldn’t resist so I stepped closer and you showed me your starlight. I remember being amazed, like absolutely captivated. You told Bryce to bring my colouring pens over with her, which she complained about because we weren’t colouring, we were having a tea party but she brought them over anyways. You showed me your tattoos, they didn’t all have colour then and you weren’t covered yet and you asked me to colour them in and fill the gaps. I spent the afternoon sat on your lap colouring your arms while you had a tea party with Bryce.” He smiled warmly and turned the page as you told him “I think you’re why I’m a tattoo artist now. I did some of your ink in fact.”

He was silent for a while as he took in the various pictures of the two of you at parties, at the beach, at the White Raven. He hesitated on a particular photo, a look on his face you couldn’t decipher. It had been taken from the back door. Ruhn was lying flat on his back and you were straddling his hips. He was looking at you like you were special, you were completely unaware, laughing at Flynn who had caught you both and was taking the photo. “What were we to each other?” He asked quietly. Your stomach twisted. “Um, I never knew if I’m honest. You’ve been in my life since I was 5 and I was like a little sister to you and you had been my favourite person in the world since that first day, but at some point around my 23rd birthday, when Bryce came back into your life that seemed to change, like you saw me as something more like I’d always dreamed of, but we never talked about it, if we were friends or more, if we had feelings for each other. You pulled away from me about 6 weeks before you were taken, I didn’t know why until Flynn told me about Agent Daybright.” You turned the page to find a certain picture. He studied it, a selfie this time, taken where you were currently sitting with him.

“This was my 24th birthday, last year. It had been really shit for everyone. Do you remember the demon attack? Bryce making the drop?” He nodded. “My parents died in that attack, I had nowhere to go so you let me move in here, in fact you wouldn’t hear of me living anywhere else. My first night living here was my birthday. I was miserable all day, I refused to come out of my room, when you’d finally coaxed me out of my bedroom with the promise of desserts and whatever take out I wanted for dinner you’d sent everyone else out. You knew I wouldn’t be able to handle the love they’d smother me with. So we sat and smoked, ate take out and watched my favourite movies. You kissed me for the first time that night and I smiled for the first time in weeks. You told me that you’d kiss me a million times over if it meant I’d smile at you like that.”

He continued to flick through the book, taking in the pages. “Can I ask you something?” You asked softly, he met your eyes and nodded. “Who’s Lidia?” He froze for a half a second, “Lidia is Agent Daybright, Lidia Cervos.” You gasped, “The Hind?” He nodded. There was so much you wanted to ask, did he really think she was his mate? Was she actually his mate, did he love her? But he didn’t need that right now so instead you asked, “Is she safe? Is there anything I can do for her?” He studied you for a while, choosing his words. “You made this whole book to help me remember you and anything else I may have forgotten, you’ve just sat and been really honest with me about how you feel about me and then you offer to help her? You’d do that?” You fought the tears, “For you? Yeah I would. Happiness is all I want for you Ruhn.”

“She’s safe.” He finally said, “She went back with Bryce’s friends, there was no life for her here anymore, we both knew whatever we could’ve had couldn’t be fixed now.” You nodded, “I’m sorry you lost her.” He gave you a sad smile, “I’m sorry I can’t remember you, what I felt for you, I do know that I want you around though, as soon as you left my hospital room I wanted you to come back.” A tear escaped your eye and he brushed it away, “I want to remember you, little one.” He said, his face morphing into horror when you started crying harder. “I’m sorry, don’t cry because of me!” He said, grabbing your hands. “No, it’s just, you always called me that, little one, well that or-“ he cut you off “Princess.”

Your laugh was watery as you looked up at him, “Yeah, Bryce hated it when you called her that, she kicked off about it when we were 7 and you just laughed at her and called her trouble instead as she crossed her arms and huffed but you just picked me up and said ‘Y/N can be my Little Princess instead.’ and it stuck. I’m nearly 25 and you still call me that, even when Flynn teases me for it.” He smiled slightly, and asked “So you’re human then? If you grew up around Bryce and Ember?” “Not quite, there’s a little bit of Fae in me but I didn’t get the ears or the glow that you all have, that Bryce has, just the long lifespan but I haven’t made the drop yet.” He placed the book down carefully on the coffee table and turned to face you, “Why not?” You gave him a small smile, “You were going to be my anchor, it was what we were going to do on my 25th birthday.” He seemed to be registering just how intertwined your lives were, “I’ll do it eventually, I’ll get Tharion to be my anchor or use the one they provide.”

“When is your birthday?” He asked and you flushed, “Um, it’s today actually.” You both flinched at the crash from the kitchen and Flynn who appeared in the doorway, Dec just behind him. “We missed your birthday?! Why didn’t you tell us?” You shrugged, “Wasn’t important.” Flynn huffed, “Yes it is! We’re terrible! No presents, no party! We just did nothing!” He pointed at Ruhn, “I blame you, you normally remind us of all the Y/N related events!” Ruhn held his hands up in mock surrender, “My bad man, lemme go back in time to yesterday so I can remind you that it’s the girl I don’t remember birthday tomorrow!” You laughed at them, “Stop it, it really doesn’t matter!” Dec shoved Flynn out of his way, “Yes it does, you need to stop playing things off like you aren’t important, you are! Can we have a do over? What day is it now? Thursday? Give us Saturday as a do over, please?” You sighed, “Guys it’s not a big deal! Helping Ruhn heal and get better that’s what’s important, not re doing my birthday.”

Another crash, this time, “It’s your birthday?!” Ithan shouted as he skidded at the bottom of the stairs. The front door opened and Tharion strolled in, a gift bag and a balloon in hand and waltzed straight over to you, “Happy birthday, kid!” He smiled as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head and handed you the bag and balloon. He took in the others, the looks on their faces, “Was I the only one that remembered?” Dec nodded, Tharion pointed at Ruhn, “I blame you, you normally remind them of all Y/N related events.” Flynn threw his hands in the air “That’s what I said!!” Ruhn rolled his eyes, “Thank you, Tharion.” You smiled up at him as you took in the freshwater pearl earrings he’d gifted you. “You’re welcome kid, I know you loved those ones you pawned to get to Embers the other day so I-“ he seemed to realise what he’d said, “I wasn’t meant to say that.” Dec, Flynn and Ithan all looked confused, Ruhn’s expression was unreadable as you muttered, “No, you weren’t.”

Ruhn took that scrap book with him everywhere, studied it for hours as if it’d force his brain to remember what it had blocked out. You’d agreed to let them give you a birthday redo in the end. Flynn wouldn’t stop whining about it. Ruhn had been quiet for the most part. He asked questions as and when they came to him. You’d just gotten out of the bath, your hair wrapped in a towel, one of Ruhn’s old T-shirts thrown onto wear while you got ready for the party they were throwing you. You’d just finished your skincare when you heard a crash from down the hall, Ruhn’s room.

You didn’t knock on his bedroom door. You strolled in to find Ruhn sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands wearing only his boxers. You saw the full extent then, the bruises and healing cuts, the lacerations that were now scabbed over on his back from where he’d been whipped. “Ruhn?” You said his name quietly so you didn’t startle him, “Are you okay?” He didn’t move as he mumbled, “My hair.” His long locks gone, it had been shaved at some point, it was now more like Flynn’s boy band hair as Ruhn like to joke. An adjustment you were sure. “What about it?” You asked him, approaching carefully. “It’s gone, I don’t know what to do with this!” He exclaimed tugging at the strands. “Can I?” You asked, gesturing towards him, he nodded and you knelt behind him on his bed.

“I loved your long hair, but y'know I think I love the short hair too.” You told him as you ran your fingers through it. “Really?” He asked and you hummed, “I used to spend hours braiding and styling your hair.” He raised an eyebrow at you through the mirror on the wall opposite the bed, “I gave you some right questionable hair styles over the years, you wore them all with pride.” You ran your fingers through his hair again, “I can do something with this for sure, if you’re okay with that?” He met your eyes in the mirror, “Please?” You nodded and got up and walked into his bathroom to get the products you wanted, he watched you go.

“Nice shirt.” He said as you returned to his room, “Oh this old thing? Some guy I hooked up with once gave it to me so I’d stay and sleep in his room rather than going back to my own.” He looked like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said, “That’s my shirt though.” He said, so he remembered the shirt then, you smirked, “Yeah, I was talking about you.” His mouth dropped open and formed an O. “We? When?” He stuttered out, “You didn’t mention that the other day!” You laughed, “The walls had ears the other day! I mean they probably all already know.” He looked at you still waiting for an answer. “Christmas eve, after too many mulled wines.” He contemplated, “What?” You asked him with a laugh, “Was that the first time?” You nodded, “That was the only time.” He hummed, “Drunk after too many mulled wines?” You laughed again, “Yup.” He hummed again, “What?” You repeated, “It just seems like if you’re as important as the guys say you are to me I’d have made it special, not a drunk hookup on Christmas Eve.” You smiled at him as you walked past him and crawled behind him, “It was kinda perfect actually. I know it sounds like it was just a quick drunk hookup but it wasn’t, it was slow and sweet, we giggled a lot, it was special, because it was us.”

He didn’t say anything else as you styled his hair. When you were finished he was staring at his arms, “I’ll fix them for you, if you want, when you’re fully healed.” He smiled slightly, “I’d like that.” You nodded, “No problem, but for the time being a might have a solution!” You sprang from his bed and ran down the hallway to your room. One you had found what you were looking for you walked back to Ruhn, grinning ear to ear. “Glittery stick on tattoos?” He laughed when he read the packet. “I volunteer as a big sister for a little girl who lost her parents in the attack, I got these for her but I can replace them and I think they’ll look amazing on you.”

By the time you were done you were both grinning and laughing, Ruhn had arms full of glittery tattoos and he’d stuck one on your cheek. It took you both a moment to realise you’d ended up straddling his hips as you stuck the last two on his neck. Ruhn cleared his throat, a blush rising on both of your cheeks. You lightly traced the letters burned into his skin, “If this heals well I can cover it,” you told him, “How do you feel about an awesome chest piece?” He gently removed you from his lap and smiled, “I feel pretty good about that, princess.” You weren’t sure he even realised he’d called you that and you weren’t about to question it. You awkwardly scratched the back of your neck and said, “I should probably go and get ready.” And hightailed it out of his room, he watched you go for the second time.

You had to hand it to the guys, they threw together an amazing party and they had spoiled you rotten with gifts. You were currently handing Flynn’s ass to him in beer pong when Ruhn approached you and offered you a hand, you met his eyes for a couple of seconds and then took it without question. He led you out of the living room and front door and out onto the street. “Where are we going? The party is back there!” You asked him, “Do you trust me?” He asked, “Always.” He smiled down at you, “Good, I have something to show you.” You followed him through the streets until he stopped outside a building. You gave him a questioning look, “Why are we outside an abandoned building?” You asked him, he rolled his eyes, “Look up, Princess.” It was then that you spotted the sign, brand new and freshly done, it read, ‘Starborn Tattoos’ you gasped, “Dec said the studio you worked in got destroyed during the attack and that you’d been living on your savings since then, he also said it had always been your dream to own your own shop, so, Happy Birthday, Princess.” He said as he handed you the keys from his pocket. “I-I don’t know what to say, Ruhn, this is too much! You aren’t just doing this because you feel bad that you can’t remember me are you?” He shook his head, “I’m doing this because it feels like the right thing to do.” Tears escaped your eyes, “Thank you! Can I hug you? Is that okay?” He laughed and pulled you into his chest.

He gave you a tour inside the shop, “It’s perfect!” You sequeled as you told him your vision for it. “You’ll be the first person I tattoo in here!” You circled the space once more, “Starborn Tattoos, how did you know? Did Dec tell you the name?” He shrugged, “Lucky guess after you told me you thought I was the reason you’re an artist.” You nodded, you couldn’t believe the heart this man had, after all he’d been through. “We’re not done yet, we’ve got once more place to go.” He told you and you span to face him, “Ruhn this is more than enough, like seriously, you don’t have to get me another present for the rest of my life.” He rolled his eyes and took your hand again, “Come on!”

You stopped dead when you realised where he was taking you. “We don’t have to do this, Ruhn.” You told him as you looked up at the Drop centre. “Yes, we do, we made a deal.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “But you don’t even know me anymore.” You felt his hands on your face and opened your eyes, “Trust me, Princess.” You nodded and followed him in.

You were falling, and falling, and falling. It seemed to go on for an eternity before you hit the bottom. All you could see was white and a runway. You could hear the clock ticking down, you needed to run, to make the leap to go back but then there he was. Long hair, covered in tattoos, smoking a rolled cigarette as he walked towards you. “There’s my princess!” He cheered as he flicked his cigarette off to the side and pulled you into him. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. The clock was still counting down but Ruhn was here, the one that knew you. The one that maybe loved you. “You need to go back, you know that right?” He asked as you wrapped your arms around him tighter. “I want to stay here with you, you know me.” He kissed the top of your head, “I’ll always know you, Princess. You’ve been so strong for me, so kind.” You cried into his chest. “It hurts that you don’t know me!” You wailed, “It hurts that you asked for her when you woke up and everyone was convinced you were asking for me!” He ran a soothing hand down your back, “I know little one, I know.” You let out a shuddering breath, “I can’t say any of this to you though, because it isn’t your fault and you’re trying, I know you’re trying, but I’m so sad without you and I can’t voice that because it isn’t fair! None of this is fair! You never should’ve gone and got caught up in Bryce’s drama and obsession with Danika, she hasn’t even been to visit!” He pulled you away from his chest, “She’s my little sister, baby, I’m always going to get involved.” You nodded, “I know.”

He wiped the tears from your face, “You left me Ruhn.” He kissed your forehead, “That’s not true, I’m waiting for you right now.” You heard him then, the Ruhn that was waiting for you, the one that had bought you a building. “Come back, Princess.” You looked into his eyes, “Go.” Was all he said, “Will you come with me?” You asked, “Of course, I’ll always come with you.” He said as he took your hand. “Come back, you can do it!” You both took off at a sprint and when you reached the end of the runway you jumped, Ruhn with you. A quarter of the way Ruhn fell behind and pushed you, still grasping your hand, half way he started to fade, three quarters of the way, “I love you, little one.” He said, his voice quiet, he was gone as you reached the top and your eyes shot open.

Ruhn was hovering over you, “I know you.” He said, he voice a whisper, “What?” You asked, your voice just as quiet as he helped you sit up. He cupped your cheek and stood between your legs. “I know you, Princess.” Your eyes welled at what you thought he was telling you. “As you ascended, my memories of you came flooding back.” You let the tears fall, “You were there, you before, you jumped with me.” He smiled down at you, “You bought them back, baby, gods you’re amazing.” A sob escaped your throat, “Do you really remember me?” He leant down and kissed your forehead. “I remember.” More sobs followed his confession, “I’m going to kiss you now, something I didn’t do enough of before.” You let out a tearful laugh as his lips met yours and a golden thread tied the two of you together. “Marry me?” He asked when he pulled away and you gasped, “What?!” “I asked you to marry me, I’ve wasted enough time.” You cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, “We haven’t even been on a date, Ruhn!” You laughed, “Let’s start there, let’s get you healed and finish dealing with the mess Bryce made, then, when you ask me again, I’ll say yes, hel I’ll marry you then and there. But I want to be your girlfriend first.” He smiled, “Anything you want princess.”

[ally-writes-many-things]

A Marriage of Convenience (R. Danaan) Part 1.

Summary: You and Ruhn are forced to marry each other

Words. 1.9K

Requested: Yes

Warings or A/N: I changed it up just a tad bit.

You had only recently learned of the planned marriage between yourself and Prince Ruhn of Lunathion, a mere two weeks ago. Despite the fact that your fathers had been in talks about this arrangement for the past year, the reality of it was now sinking in as you made the trip to Lunathion to formalize the arrangement. The idea of being trapped in a loveless marriage weighed heavily on your heart, but you understood the implications of disobeying your father's wishes.

As the elegant black car came to a stop in front of the magnificent mansion belonging to the Autumn King, a wave of nerves twisted in your stomach. The realization hit that in a mere month, you would be wed. Staring up at the grand and imposing structure, far surpassing the grandeur of your own home, any sense of excitement failed to ignite within you.

Inhaling deeply, you started to exit the car while Felix held the door open. Your faithful bodyguard, a source of comfort and security, extended his hand to assist you. "You're going to be alright, my sweet girl. I'll be with you every step of this fiasco and beyond," He reassured.

Your father decided not to come with you and instead sent Felix in his place. You didn't mind at all, in fact, you preferred it that way. Felix had been your loyal bodyguard for over five years. Even though he was a few years older than you and certainly good looking, you both had always kept things professional. However, despite this, you had formed a close bond over the years, sharing almost every moment together.

As your hand joined with Felix's, he led you out of the car while maintaining unwavering eye contact. The prominent pink scar on his cheek immediately drew your attention, reminding you of his steadfast loyalty. Two weeks ago, Felix had defied your father's commands in order to protect you, enduring a brutal punishment as a result. Your father had been prepared to fire him, but you stepped in, bargaining to save Felix's position.

You had agreed to work with the Danann family and not cause any trouble, as long as Felix was with you. "I appreciate it," you whispered as he led you towards the imposing entrance of the mansion. The King was waiting, with a person who was definitely not Ruhn, likely his bodyguard, by his side.

The Autumn King tried to approach you, but Felix blocked his path. "With all due respect, do not advance towards the princess without her permission," He said firmly, his tone brooking no disagreement. "Once you and my son are married, this will change," the King commented, eyeing Felix.

Felix stood unwavering under the Autumn King's scrutiny, displaying no hint of hesitation. His head slightly tilted, signaling a message that you quickly grasped. As you moved around him, a silent understanding passed between the two of you.

"Are you implying that Felix should be replaced as my bodyguard, Einar?" You challenged, a touch of defiance seeping into your tone.

"I will not tolerate disobedience," the King began.

You raised your hand to quiet him. "He is not under your authority, nor am I. I am to be Prince Ruhn's wife, and my loyalty lies with him. Felix obeys my commands, not yours. If you have a problem with him, discuss it with me. My people fall under my protection and authority alone, as per our agreement. If you try to dismiss Felix, our agreement will be terminated. Is that understood?”

"I question if your father would give his approval," he started, only to be cut off by you.

"Do you grasp the situation? Keep in mind, you need this marriage more than we do," You stated firmly, your voice carrying more authority.

"I understand," he replied, his jaw clenched.

"Good. Now, where is Prince Ruhn?"

"He's running late," the King confessed.

"Fantastic. A prince who can't even show up on time. How delightful," you grumbled, frustration evident in your tone.

"Perhaps if you enter, Axel can escort you to your rooms for some rest while we wait," the King proposed.

You gave him a skeptical look. "No," you firmly stated.

"No?" he inquired, puzzled.

"I have made arrangements for us to stay elsewhere. I will not tolerate your staff invading our privacy or listening in on our discussions. As your son is not here, we are leaving. I will see him at the party later. Have a nice day, Einar," you announced, pivoting on your foot and heading towards the car.

Felix reached for the door handle as you shot a defiant look back at the King. "Just because I'm a Princess doesn't mean I'll follow blindly. There's a reason other kingdoms have turned down your treaties. Best to remember that." You declared before climbing into the car.

As Felix settled in beside you, he flashed a proud smile. "That's my girl," he remarked.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

As you made your entrance into the ballroom, every gaze was fixed on you in your elegant black sleeveless, spaghetti strap high-split maxi v-neck gown. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, drawing admiring looks as you glided through the room. Despite your father's desire for you to wear a crown, you chose to not wear the accessory, preferring to blend in with the crowd and feel at ease.

As you strolled through the room, Einar came up to you and offered a friendly greeting. You took a deep breath and responded to the king with a polite, albeit insincere smile. "Your home is quite exquisite,"

Einar reciprocated the smile and asked about your accommodations while you were staying there. "I trust your accommodations met your expectations,”

You nodded subtly in agreement. Einar's attention then turned to Felix, who stood behind you but avoided meeting his gaze. It was evident that Felix was observing the room carefully, studying the faces of everyone there. His Fae ability allowed him to recall memories in vivid detail. "You can feel at ease here. Your bodyguard isn't needed," Einar attempted to reassure you.

Felix's piercing stare moved from the crowd to Einar, his eyes brimming with a silent warning that could have been deemed lethal. A grin tugged at your lips as you noted the brief flash of fear that crossed the Autumn King's features. It was clear that he wasn't used to being challenged in his own home. Offering a comforting touch to Felix's arm, you met the King's gaze head-on.

"As we previously discussed, Felix remains at my side at all times. His responsibilities are not within your worry," you declared firmly.

Einar acknowledged with a nod, trying to ease the atmosphere. "I did not mean to offend-"

Interrupting him, you motioned with your hand for him to be quiet. "Where is Prince Ruhn? Is he here, or is he once late again?”

"He's currently on the balcony with his two friends and roommates," Einar said, pointing in that direction.

"Thank you for letting me know," you replied courteously.

"If you'd like, I can accompany you to find him," Einar suggested.

"No, thanks," you declined.

"I need to take care of some things," Einar said as he got ready to leave.

"Feel free to go, I won't keep you," you replied with a fake smile.

The king nodded and walked off, leaving you and Felix alone. Felix kept his eyes on the king as he left, then turned to you and said, "I have a bad feeling about him.”

"Good. I want it that way," you confirmed.

"Are you certain you don't want me to go with you to see Prince Ruhn?" Felix asked.

"I'll be alright. Remember, he values this treaty more than us. He won't cause me any harm," You reassured him.

"(Name)-" Felix began.

"Felix, I'll be okay. You'll be there right after me," You insisted.

"Yes, your highness," Felix responded, returning to his formal demeanor.

You followed the King's directions and made your way to the window, where three men were deep in conversation on the balcony. "Stand here and you can observe their every move, as well as mine," You advised Felix.

He followed your lead and positioned himself at the window to watch the trio.

As you neared the open doors, the men's voices grew louder. "Can you believe you're tying the knot in a month?" One exclaimed.

"She's probably going to be a spoiled ass princess," Ruhn remarked.

A second man joined in, "I wonder if she's a good fuck."

"Spoiled brats rarely are," Ruhn observed.

"That's been my experience too," Boy three agreed.

"Having her as a wife is going to be a total nightmare. She's going to be so difficult to deal with," Ruhn lamented.

"Can't you do anything to change it?"

"Sadly, no," Ruhn responded with a sense of resignation.

"Sucks to suck," Boy two remarked.

"She's going to be living in our house, you know," Boy one said.

"Yeah, but we can just avoid her. Ruhn won't have that luxury," another person added.

Despite the comments being exchanged by Ruhn and his friends, you couldn't help but chuckle at their banter while rolling your eyes. Their words were familiar, but you remained unaffected. Though you didn't appreciate their antics, you were accustomed to them. As the trio glanced your way, you interjected, "sorry, just feeling a bit overwhelmed," motioning towards the crowded ballroom behind you.

You had opted to maintain your anonymity, leaving Ruhn to uncover your identity on his own. With the wedding arrangements scheduled to start the next day, you anticipated having to face him alone. As Ruhn's gaze traveled over you, you could discern his contemplations, prompting a laugh from you. He wasn't going to touch you ever.

Ruhn asked, "I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?"

"You're getting married soon, so there's no need for introductions," you replied, walking away while they looked at you longingly.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Upon entering the ballroom, you noticed that Ruhn's friends were present but Ruhn was nowhere to be seen. The red-headed friend spotted you and promptly nudged his companion, gesturing in your direction. The other friend turned around, his eyes wide with surprise. "Oh shit," he muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but smirk as you approached them, causing them to hastily straighten up. "Where's the prince?" you inquired.

"He-He'll be here shortly," The second male stammered.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “Is this going to be a regular occurrence? Is he always going to be late? Since you two seem to be his closest friends, what are your names?”

“Tristan Flynn, but everyone just calls me Flynn,” the red-haired one replied.

“Declan Emmett,” the other one added.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you heard Ruhn's voice say impatiently.

You spun around, and Ruhn's eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. "Oh, fuck. Listen, I'm not sure what you heard last night, but-" Ruhn started to explain.

You quickly raised your hand to silence him. "Save it. Say what you will about me. I refuse to defend myself to a Fae male who appears as though a tattoo shop vomited on him while he slept in a dumpster. Let's be clear - neither of us wants this. So, here's the deal. In public, we'll pretend to be a couple, putting on a show for our fathers' sake. But in private, we can ignore each other and fuck who we want. Do we have a deal?”

Ruhn was left speechless, his mouth hanging open in astonishment, but he nodded in agreement.

"Good. And another thing. As I have already clarified to the Autumn King on two occasions, you do not command Felix, my bodyguard. He follows my orders exclusively. His directives are not your concern or your father's, do you understand?"

"Yes," answered Ruhn.

[captainsophiestark]

Nosy Best Friends

Tristan Flynn x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Based on this request from Anon! It was very fun to write and it gave me a second, related idea that I'm planning to post Monday, so thanks for sending it in! Hope you like it!

Fandom: Crescent City

Summary: Flynn's been disappearing a lot to spend time with his human girlfriend, and his friends have decided to finally figure out where he's been going.

Word Count: 2,219

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a tiny bit of Angst? But not really

A/N: This fic also has a prequel called Presentation Problems and a sequel called The Best Night Ever, but can also be read on its own!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Ruhn's POV

"Where the Hel are you going?"

Flynn barely stopped at the sound of my voice, half-turning back with an irritated look. I gave him the same one right back.

"I'm going out. Why do you care?"

"You've been disappearing doing Urd knows what for weeks. Come on, Flynn, what's going on?"

Flynn just rolled his eyes. "Nothing, mom. Just relax and mind your own business."

He turned on his heel and walked out the door without looking back. I watched him go, then turned to Dec on the couch.

"Something's going on with him."

"Yeah. Think it's time we do something about it?"

"Definitely."

****************

Y/N's POV

I sighed, rubbing my eyes as I tried to reread what I'd written for the thousandth time. I'd been holed up in my apartment for almost forty-eight hours straight working on a paper for grad school, and I'd started to go a little crazy.

The only reason I hadn't gone crazy about twenty hours ago was my boyfriend, Tristan Flynn. He'd been keeping me company, providing a stream of encouragement and my favorite snacks and helping me take a break when I really needed it, even if I wouldn't admit it. He'd left a couple hours ago to go do something he needed to do, and I'd come very close to hurling my laptop at the wall in his absence.

We'd first met in a similar situation, when I'd hurled my notebook across what I'd thought was an empty classroom. Flynn had been looking for somebody the Aux had followed to campus, and only his fae reflexes had kept him from taking my notebook to his head. If I hadn't been stressed out of my mind already, I would've been worried about having accidentally attacked a member of the fae Aux, especially as a human, but I'd hit my limit that day, so instead I'd shouted at him for interrupting my studying.

Luckily for both of us, once he'd recovered from his shock, he'd seemed to be into that. He'd tried to get me to leave for safety reasons, and I'd refused, so he'd stayed. We ended up hitting it off the bat, and the rest was history.

We'd been together for a few months now, and despite every warning I'd ever heard against dating a member of the Vanir, it was quite honestly the best relationship I'd ever been in. We hadn't told anyone else in our lives yet, mostly because we didn't want our little bubble of happiness being burst, but I had a hard time believing anything could ruin what we'd found together.

The few seconds I'd spent losing myself in memories had been nice, but the glaring light of my laptop screen didn't let me escape for long. I sighed heavily, trying to decide whether it was worth it to power through. I didn't entirely have a choice, unless I wanted to drop out of grad school, but maybe I could find something to do as a small break.

Somebody must have been listening to my silent pleas, because a moment later my phone rang. I smiled when Flynn's face popped up, a terrible picture of him that I'd taken when he wasn't ready. He always switched it back to a shirtless one he'd taken himself when he got the opportunity, and it had become a little silent war between us.

"You have amazing timing," I sighed as soon as I picked up. I could hear his smile through the other end of the phone.

"I always do. Come downstairs."

"...You know I shouldn't. This paper-"

"Is something you've been holed up in that apartment working on for way too long. You're driving yourself insane, and last I checked, you can't turn in anything if you smash your laptop to pieces against the wall. Besides, humans need sunlight. And fresh air."

"An expert on that, are you?"

"I sure am," his voice purred over the phone and I rolled my eyes, but I also felt heat rising on my cheeks. "Just come down here, and I'll show you how much of an expert I am."

I let out a long breath through my nose. Flynn was right. Sitting in this apartment driving myself insane wasn't helping anything. And besides, I really wanted to go spend time with him.

"Alright. I'm on my way."

"Good. I'll see you in a second."

****************

Ruhn's POV

"What in Hel is he doing here?" I hissed to Dec, trying to keep my voice down. We'd tailed Flynn to some apartment complex not far from the college we'd chased some monster down at not long ago.

"I don't know..." said Dec. "Maybe he's got a lead on something for the case? Or a new case, related to all that shit we dealt with last time?"

"You think Flynn's spending his time off work doing more work?"

I shot Dec a look, and he snorted.

"Okay, you're right. It's probably not that."

We turned back to watch Flynn, who had a full bouquet of flowers in his hands. He'd put on the nicest clothes he owned, and if I didn't know better, I would've thought-

"Oh! Tristan, holy shit!"

Dec and I stared wide-eyed as a human female came out of the apartment building, absolutely beaming at Flynn. She ran to him and jumped in his arms, hugging him tight, as he picked her up and spun her around. He kissed her, and when they pulled apart they stayed close, forehead to forehead, just staring at each other lovingly, something I'd never seen Flynn do with a female. I glanced at Dec to find him looking just as shocked as me, and when I turned back to find Flynn practically floating looking at the girl in front of him, I couldn't help my surprised shout.

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

****************

Y/N's POV

Tristan and I whirled around in sync at the sound of a loud shout from across the street. I found two fae males staring at us, looking absolutely outraged, and I started to get a little worried until my boyfriend shouted back.

"What the FUCK are you two doing here?"

"I take it you know them?" I asked, turning to Flynn and keeping my voice low. He shook his head, but the irritation in his eyes faded the second he looked at me.

'Yeah, sweetheart, I do. They're my roommates and my friends from the Aux. And they're absolute idiots."

I turned to find the idiots in question storming across the street and towards us, shouting at cars that almost hit them in the process. Unconsciously, I took a half step towards Flynn, and he immediately wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Not a moment too soon. His friends finally made it across traffic to come to a stop in front of us, and my jaw literally almost hit the floor when I realized one of them was the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae.

"What the Hel are you doing?" demanded the prince before turning to me. "And who is this?"

"I'm his girlfriend," I snapped, not quite able to stop myself. Both newcomers stared at me in wide-eyed shock, then whirled on their friend.

"Your what?"

"My girlfriend," Flynn said, an edge of steel in his voice that I'd only heard once or twice, usually in relation to Aux business.

The fae before us shared an absolutely shocked look, then whirled back around to look at Flynn.

"Why the Hel didn't you tell us?"

"Is that where you've been sneaking off to every day for the last few months?"

"What the fuck, Flynn?"

They shouted their questions at Flynn in sync, then without waiting for my boyfriend to get ahold of himself enough to answer, the one I didn't recognize turned to me with an apologetic smile.

"I'm Declan," he said, holding out a hand for me to shake. I stared at it for a minute, then slowly took it. "It's nice to meet you."

"...Nice to meet you, too."

"Ruhn. Also nice to meet you," said the prince with a chin nod of a hello in my direction. Then, he turned back to Flynn. "You know everybody's gonna lose it when they realize you've been keeping a steady girlfriend a secret from us, right?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Bunch of Aux members, a spy, and Bryce, it's your own fault for not figuring it out sooner. You should be better at your jobs than this."

Ruhn and Declan's mouths dropped open, and I laughed. I could see them getting ready for a comeback, so I stepped even closer to Flynn and fixed the other two fae with a bright smile.

"It's been nice to get to meet some of Tristan's friends, and I'm sure I'll see you both again soon. But right now, I was promised a break from my term paper by my wonderful boyfriend, and I don't intend to let anything get in the way of that."

"I'd listen if I were you," said Flynn, a massive smile on his face as he looked at me with the most lovesick expression I'd ever seen. It made my heart melt. "We met because she almost clocked me in the head with a notebook for interrupting her study session."

"Well technically I threw the notebook before you came in. And then I yelled at you for interrupting."

"Are you trying to say you wouldn't have thrown the notebook at my head anyway if it'd still been in your hands?"

"...No, I probably would've."

"I know. And I love it." He grinned, leaning in for a heated kiss. It still took my breath away, kissing him, even though it'd been a few months now, and he pulled away far too soon for my liking. "What do you say we get the Hel out of here for your distraction?"

"I say Hel yeah, let's go."

He gave me one last quick peck, then pulled back with a wink. His arm stayed wrapped around my waist as we turned to head off to whatever surprise he had planned, not bothering to spare more than a nod at his absolutely stunned friends.

"You get the weekend, Flynn!" one of them called after us. "And then we're having a party and getting to know this female you're so head over heels for!"

"Sure!" Flynn said, calling back over my head. "As long as she decides she actually wants to meet you!"

I snorted, and when I looked at Flynn I found a beaming smile on his face as we walked down the street together. He held out the hand that wasn't around my waist, finally presenting me with the gorgeous bouquet he'd first shown up with.

"For you."

"Thanks, Tris." I took the flowers and leaned into him, and we continued in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Flynn cleared his throat.

"So, do you... uh, do you want to meet them? My friends and everybody?"

"Well, that depends a little bit... why were they so shocked? Was it because I'm human?"

"No." Flynn's response was immediate, and he stopped dead in his tracks to turn me to face him. He put both hands on my shoulders, his warm brown eyes finding mine. "I would never voluntarily spend time with people who felt or thought that way."

"Okay... then why did they seem so surprised to see you with somebody?"

He grimaced. "You... might be the first serious girlfriend I've had. Ever."

My eyebrows shot up, and my heart skipped a few beats.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think my record before this was... seeing the same female for two weeks? Maybe?"

I couldn't help barking a laugh, and Flynn grimaced again. My heart, on the other hand, was soaring as I reached up to gently cup his cheek.

"Well, I guess I can see why your friends were so surprised then. I'd be happy to meet them. And I'm honored to be the first female you've decided to stick around for."

He grinned at me, making my heart race even faster, then slowly leaned in until our lips were just a hair's breadth away.

"I'm honored to be a fae male you're willing to date. Based on what another friend has told me, a human like you wouldn't be willing to give just any of us a chance."

I snorted. "Yeah, no kidding. But I'm glad I gave you one."

"Me too."

I gave Flynn a little smirk, then leaned in to close the rest of the distance between us. He wasted no time kissing me back, hard, and we quickly deepened the kiss. I let my one free hand wander up to tangle in his hair, and I was ready to lose myself in him right then and there, but after a few long moments he gently pulled back.

"As much as I'd like to continue this... I think you'll really like the surprise break I have planned."

I smiled, going in for one last quick kiss, then pulling all the way back.

"Alright. Let's go. As long as we can continue this after I finish my assignments?"

"If I ever say no to that, you should be concerned."

I laughed as we headed off down the street together again, hand in hand. I still had many hovering stressors, from school to finally meeting Flynn's extended friend group, but I knew I'd have him with me for all of it. I was starting to get the feeling he was in it for the long haul, and even though that brought plenty of challenges, I couldn't help being excited for it all the same.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

♧|Endeavors|♧

[I felt the need to write about him, I'm sorry!]

[Inspo] [Inspo] [Inspo]

-

《After mistaking one of your companions for someone else. You find yourself gaining lots of attention...》

{Prince! Link / Reader}

-

After managing to escape from the room you were taken to, you pull up your gown as you race about in the Hyrule castle halls. Tapestries and portraits pass you by as you search for your companions.

Seeing a familiar blonde headed figure in the distance, you run faster, bare feet padding against the cool floor until you jump and tackle the figure.

"Hya!"

The male shouts as he falls to the floor, your fluffy gown and unforseen body weight crushing him as he stares at your smiling face.

"Link!" You cry out happily, knees placed beside his hips as you move closer to him. The young man stares bug-eyed at you while you throw your arms around him, giving him a great big hug.

The young male stiffens at your warm and gentle touch. He felt your slow, calm breaths by his heart while the sweet scent of your hair fills his senses.

"We gotta find the others! I don't know why the gaurds took me or why I'm wearing this, or why you're wearing THAT. But we will figure it out! Together, as always, right?" You said a determined gleam in your (e/c) eyes.

Before he could answer, you slowly detached yourself. But you're taken aback when he reaches for you, grasping your dominant wrist tightly as he quietly observed you.

"Lin.. Link?" You said cautiously, now noticing his different attire than the armor you were used to.

"Hey? Bubs? Hello~?" You ask, trying to release yourself.

"Uhm... Are you gonna lead- woah-!" The blonde pulls you close, hand ghosting over your waistline as he strides further into the intricate hallways.

"I guess you're leading then.." You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. Giving him a cheeky smile as his expression becomes surprised once more. Bashfully looking away and back to your "destination." Wherever it might be...

-

Learning about you was something Link quite enjoyed. During his free time, he'd often go to your chambers. Or what you lovingly called "vacation cell," which he found odd. Yet he would laugh quietly at your mannerisms. You spoke of worlds that were similar to his own, some completely different!

You told him of your own world, a place with no monsters or creatures. Where the "Triforce" doesn't even exist. Where the prophecy he and his fellow Triforce holders had to follow was all but a story made by a man's imagination.

Besides that..

You showed him your device, which you called a "phone." Showing him photos of your world and the ones you've seen with your friends, or what you called "The Chain."

Often times, you would bring them up in conversation or would mumble about.

"If Time saw me lazing around in this room..."

"Legend would totally want that!"

"I bet Sky wishes for a bed like this! It's so squishy!"

"I miss Wilds cooking.."

You even one time asked a wondering fairy if she had seen your friend, whom you believed he was a "fairy prince."

The young man's pride would never admit it.. He yearned to have that connection you have with these "Hero's of Courage."

To make you light up brighter than the suns shine in the early mornings.

■HEADCANONS■

Prince Link is still the holder of the Triforce of Courage. While Zelda is still the chosen heroine of wisdom.

Prince Link is honestly a bit shy with (Y/N), yet he will be very blunt and honest when needed. Having grown up as royalty, he has lots of manners and adequate. He's respected and courageous like his alternates.

Yandere side: I can see him as bit.. Controlling. Where, he doesn't want you to fight with a bunch of burly heroes and get hurt fighting Moblins. He'd rather you stay with him in his world than get hurt.

He knows you can hold your own weight. But he cares a lot about you. You're unique, friendly, and attractive. So why in Hylias name would he let you get yourself killed?

His counterparts agree with him on the fact you needed to be worshiped and protected.

-

[OOF- OK, So.. I had the urge and did this.. It's been on my mind and I couldn't help it. @cafecourage @cloudninetonine @gliphyartfan @my-insanity-is-an-artform @yanderelinkeduniverse the awesome blogs that helped me by getting be back to my Loz roots!]

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.19

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: Blood

The gentle midday summer breeze over the training ground has intensified, almost to the point of becoming a storm. All the while, Cory and I stare at each other. Neither of us is willing to grant the other any form of superiority as it always has been between us. The others are still watching in tense silence. My back was turned towards most of the specialists, but I could still hear their murmurs, Congratulating Cory, but I didn't care. I stare at my sword deep in the ground. But suddenly, all I could see was blood pooling around it.

My hands shake. In the distance, I could hear the screams that, to this day, keep me awake at night and stop me from dreaming of a world without bloodshed, like all the other worlds protected by fairies. I have been weak in the past, and when I look down at my still-shaking hands, I seem to be still the same. Staring at my war-defined underarm that many had underestimated in the past, I could not feel the tingling current of faerie magic flowing through it. I never could. My childhood fairy mentor told my grandfather that it was possible that I would never reach my full potential. I was listening then. This knowledge shocked me as a child, but I was never the type to give up easily.

In the end, not only did I bested myself, but I also showed this mentor that his prediction was wrong. But at what cost?

I lift my head and can see the entire student body, but to me, they seem like corpses, just like everyone who has ever gathered around me. Carefully, I wrap my hand around my sword again. Out of nowhere, the shaking of my hands suddenly stopped. Instead of the fear and panic I had felt before, there was only clarity in my mind as soon as I grabbed the handle of my new weapon. 

My body knew what to do and how to do it. I don't even have to think about it anymore. But my opponent is Cory. He is one of the best, perhaps even the strongest, that ever existed, but I have to get him out of the hands of my scheming grandfather. He's just too big of a threat otherwise. Something has happened to him lately, and I can't lose such a valuable ally to him.

With a swift motion, I pull the sword from the ground, raise it, and point it toward Cory. His eyes are still wide open, and there are beads of sweat on his forehead. He is clearly nervous. I look at him with a grin. It almost feels like something is taking over me, but I am still in control. It's just a weird feeling.

As if automatically, I pull my sword closer to myself, the tip towards the sky, the sharp sides away from my body, the blunt part towards me. With the handle close to my body, I bow towards the blade respectfully and whisper a single word: “Nagilisk.”

Opening my eyes again, I raise my head back up and stare intently at Cory. The anger of a hundred thousand souls dwells in my eyes. He seems to think, at least judging by his wide, frightened eyes, that I wouldn't want to fight him. Perhaps the people around us who congratulate him prematurely because they think I'm an easy target have given him false hope.

After Corey realizes that I actually want to fight him, he quickly gets back into position and says the same word I had just uttered. A word or a name that probably no one here knows. But it's understandable. After all, the person behind the name was disgraced long ago and later sealed away.

With both hands on the hilt of my sword, which fits perfectly in my hands, I feel invincible. Even though it seems like a strong wind could break it into a million little pieces, I know it would rather cut through a world than break against anything.

Cory's anxious demeanor changed as soon as he assumed his position, a long sword in his right hand and a short one in his left. A double-bladed fighter. Both metal, like most of our people, he seems to always have them with him. The mightiest I've ever seen or heard of. When he was nine years old, he defeated the best in our world, a natural prodigy.

We both fill our weapons with Aura, a form of combat magic that Specialists once excelled at but are now devoid of. As I do this, I can feel something awakening within me, the very thing I have always tried to suppress. Even though I knew it could mean the end of hundreds, if not thousands, I still open myself to it.

I feel the bloodlust growing so strong that I know I can't hold it in for long. Hoping Corey would understand, I nod in his direction. Corey nods back almost immediately. Relieved that he actually seemed to understand, I let my aura flow out. When our auras collide, the pressure pushes away those too close to us.

Without warning, we both move. I could only imagine what it would look like from the outside, but one of my servants once told me: "You are faster than the wind!" But I can see Corey's swords moving at their usual speed. They are precise and look like an X, but the swords do not touch. As I quickly draw nearer to him, I see he is ready to attack. To any other person, his movements would have been unpredictable. But luckily, I'm not a normal person. 

Once I'm close enough to see myself in his metal blades, I use my agility to move right under them and come up behind them on his right side. I get so close, in fact, to Corey that I could give him a little peck on his right cheek, and simultaneously, I hit his body with my blade.

But because of our speed, we pass each other in no time. We stop where the other had started. I stand there and wait, knowing he didn't hit me, and I know he would fall any second. At least, that's what I hope. But as one second passed into the next, I grow uneasy. Did I really hit him? My gaze was still fixed on the ground, as is the custom. With my eyes closed, all I could do was wait.

Suddenly, there is the sound of something dripping, then the clink of metal on the floor, and finally, a knee hitting the floor. As soon as I hear that, I lift my head and slam my sword back into the ground. I don't even acknowledge the blood dripping from my blade.

Dust is still in the air. Not even I can see anything. So I use the moment to straighten myself out and face where I know my childhood friend's older brother should be. As I focus on the magic raging within me, my underdeveloped fairy part. My hands quickly begin to glow brown. Within a few moments, the dust falls off and reunites with the stone we are standing on.

Even from behind, I can see the gash across his torso and the blood running down his handsome, rectangle-shaped face.

The whole ground is silent. If a pen had been dropped, there would have been a loud echo. It gives me great joy because I already know that Corey is the best in his entire year. The fact that a freshman beats him so easily can only be cheating, right? If they attempt to pursue this path, they will swiftly discover it leads nowhere. It is impossible to cheat in a sacred duel where both parties are forced to fight with all their might.

Since no one is moving or even seeming to think about helping Corey, I know I have to do it myself. I move towards my opponent with relaxed steps and step behind him. Carefully, I place both hands on his broad shoulders. I slowly move my head closer to his.

“Does it hurt?” I ask him as soon as my head is right next to his.

“Very much, Your Majesty,” he replied solemnly and calmly, obviously hating that he had lost to me.

Chuckling to myself, I dig my hands a little tighter into his shoulders. “Remember this,” I tell him, just as quietly. “And never forget the oath you just swore with him. At least my life is protected from a real threat.”

Corey's head snaps towards me, a questioning look in his eyes, but I put my index finger over my mouth, signing him to be quiet. I can see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows nervously. So I give him a wink. I straighten my back, remove my hands from his shoulders, and finally walk around him. I can feel all eyes on me, likely horrified by the brutality of the ritual. But we usually have at least two healers to ensure no one dies.

I kneel in front of Corey. His eyes follow my every move. Carefully, I touch his upper armor, which suddenly disappears at the touch. He doesn't even acknowledge it. But it breaks the silence a bit as many girls start whispering about his broad, muscular back. To be honest, I'd rave over his back, too, but I'd also do the same for his muscular, toned chest, even if I would never say it out loud. After all, he is my best friend's older brother. Luckily, I still had to scan his torso to make sure I only caused that one wound.

But this one wound is already bad enough: A large gush, deep and bleeding profusely. I could even see that some muscles and nerves had been cleanly severed. Glancing back at my sword, I'm more than surprised at its sharpness, as it looks like it couldn't even cut paper but sliced through Corey's body like butter. I feel my lips want to curl into a smile, but somehow, I manage to hold it back. But even though I try my best to suppress it, the joy of my victory ultimately overwhelms me.

“You still enjoy the misery of others. How delightful.”

With the same smile finally spreading across my lips, I gaze back at him. His face contorted in pain and perhaps disappointment. I'm not entirely sure. As I stare at him, smiling from ear to ear, which feels unnatural. 

"If I were you, I would weigh my words carefully,“ I tell him quietly. “I have more than enough reasons to cut off your head.” Corey looks at me with eyes filled with shock, but he really shouldn’t. “Do you remember earlier when I defended you against the other guy? I know full well that you have dragged my name through the mud, and even though we are somewhat friends if someone heard this and knew about my status, I would have no choice but to kill you.”

Only after finishing speaking do I notice the pressure I'm radiating. One born of pure bloodlust. Something I won in the long battles on the battlefield. As I remember my time in the war, I suddenly feel something strange on my hands. Looking down at them, I notice that they have moved of their own accord closer to Corey's open wound. As they dig up and down through the inside of the wound, enjoying the feeling of cleanly cut flesh and thick blood, I know if others see it, they would think even less of me.

I, honestly, didn't even realize I had started grinning darkly until I could hear someone whisper about it. Shortly afterward, I take my hand out of the wound and smile apologetically at Corey. The whole time, he stares at me as if I'm some kind of dark creature.

Hoping to hide my disgusting habit so that it looks like I'm just trying to help him, I place both hands on his wound, albeit unnecessarily, and cast a spell to heal his wound. “Prokstoya,” I whisper quietly. Under my hands, a thin layer of stone appears over Corey's wound, closing it. But it's not big enough. “Ulersinka,” I add to the spell. The stony patch slowly grows until the entire wound is closed. But as soon as Corey moved just a little, it was already starting to break. “Reikla,” I continue to add. The stone plaster hardens, but in the places where it already has cracks, the stone is too unstable.

“Prokstoya Ulersinka Reikla,” I chant a few times to ensure the stone plaster reappears, regrows, and hardens. But I ensure it's quiet enough that only Corey and I can hear it. Because this language is neither that of the fairies nor any other species known here. Only my family and those close to us know about it. In the beginning, more people were aware of it, but when the person who taught it became the enemy of everyone, even we had to hide it, and eventually, most people forgot it.

Luckily, it looks like a guardian fairy's magic. The spell is just at a much higher level than I should be able to use, which I could feel as soon as I look into Corey's eyes. Suddenly, my head starts spinning, and I almost pass out. I've never kissed the ground, though. As I look around, disoriented, I only see Corey, and for the first time, I'm grateful for his quick reflexes.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Is your body still fighting your fairy magic?” Corey tries to inquire. "I still remember the day you were supposed to cast a rock into the air, and instead, you broke your teacher's ankle because your fairy magic went wild and pulled a rock out of the ground."

As Corey speaks, I feel a blush spreading across my cheeks. This is neither the place nor the time to reminisce! Especially since he has already sworn loyalty to my senile old grandfather! So, instead of paying more attention to him, I turn to Saladin and the mistress of the Alfea Academy.

“Is that enough to show you my magic?” I ask them in a salty tone.

Judging by the silence of all the students or their astonished looks, I can assume that no one seems to doubt that I am who I said I was. But not for the headmistress. I don't know if she could see through the magic or if she just didn't want to admit that she'd made a terrible mistake, but she's not convinced, as can be seen from her contorted face.

I can't believe this woman! And yet, I can. Somehow, I knew deep down that it wouldn't be that easy. Still, it should have been enough, even if she saw that the magic I just used wasn't pure fairy magic.

“You're going to have a mock fight,” the old mistress suddenly says.

“Tomorrow, right?” I ask back. But her look was stern and gave me an answer I didn't want to get. “You can’t be serious!” I added, annoyed.

“If we don’t sort this out today, we can’t move forward.”

I feel anger rising in my stomach hearing her words. I ball my hands into fists, trying desperately to keep my anger to myself and not explode in this woman's face. I can't wait for her plan to blow up.

“Okay,” I murmur through gritted teeth. I stand back up and tower over the woman. "Who will I fight?" I want to ask so much more, but I could barely contain myself. Right now, all I like to see is her arrogant face fall as everyone realizes what a mistake they made.

“Stella!“

I look around, confused. I don't see anyone stepping forward. But when I suddenly feel pressure being put on me, I start to fear for my life. As I turn in that direction, I see the same golden-haired girl I saw on my first day in Alfea. I can feel something powerful slumbering within her. She's old enough to know about it. But does she know it? Does she know about me then? I can feel it inside her from meters away, so she must feel it, too, right? But when I look at her, she seems more dissatisfied than angry. She shows no discomfort with the power within me, which is unnatural. So she hasn't awakened yet?

“Yes, Miss Faragonda?” she asks in a dismissive, almost rude tone. This causes resentment among the crowd, as many call her disrespectful. Somehow, it feels so strange that I can't help but laugh. Stella's gaze immediately jumps to me, even more dissatisfied than before.

“We'll talk about this later, young lady!” The headmistress threatens Stella, which actually makes her quiver under the older woman's watchful eyes. "You will fight this young man. Don't worry. Neither of you will be able to seriously injure the other."

Even though she obviously doesn't want to be there or have anything to do with this situation, she still nods in agreement. She comes towards me, and even though I'm taller than her, she looks down on me, or at least makes me feel like she is. There are no greetings or anything like that. What a bitch.

[Masterlist]

[jeannineee]

Hey it’s ur fav Ruhn anon! Feel free to totally ignore this request lol but what about Ruhn taking care of u bc u had a bad mental health week. This weeks been rough for me and u write the soft side of the SJM men so well😭

Safe

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

a/n: Ruhn is so sweet in this I can’t.

warnings: mentions of depression, brief mention of body image issues, anxiety.

Ruhn didn’t have to ask you to know when you were having a tough time mentally. He knew you better than anyone, better than he knew himself.

It usually started with the poor sleeping habits. You’d sleep for fourteen hours one night, and would be lucky to get two hours the next.

Then, he’d notice your lack of interest in the things you normally love.

He’d notice the way you avoided your reflection in the mirror, because taking the time to look at yourself would force you to confront the bitter truth. And you couldn’t do it.

Ruhn never cornered you about it; never pressured. He wasn’t the type to tell you to look on the bright side, or that things would get better eventually. That was sunshine-y bullshit, as far as he was concerned.

The night you admitted through tears that things were getting bad again, Ruhn wordlessly pulled you into a hug. He was warm. He was safe.

Ruhn murmured words of comfort into your hair, gently rubbing along your back. When your tears lessened, he ran you a bath, silently helping you out of your clothes.

He knelt next to the bath, and began washing your hair, your skin.

He left you alone in the bathroom for a bit, only to clean your dishes, and throw your laundry into the washer. He knew that your depression would make these ordinary, mundane tasks seem insurmountable to complete.

When Ruhn returned, he toweled you dry, and helped you dress. He carefully brushed your hair, kissing away any tears that dare fall down your beautiful face.

He guided you to bed, but not before making sure you had a glass of water.

He wrapped his arms around you, reminding you how important you are, how he will never leave you; how privileged he was to be able to love you.

As you were on the precipice of sleep, Ruhn’s lips brushed your hairline, and he whispered an “I love you.”

Three words. So simple. A reminder that you were safe, you were loved. You would be okay.

[sky-drgn]

My Big Cat - Chevalier Michel

Genre: Fluff! Pronouns: you/your Warnings: None Words: 367 Notes: Shout out to the most awesomest @blake-elladonna for helping with editing!

King Chevalier returned to his room with a sigh. The stacks of paperwork continuously grew no matter the amount he completed. Meetings ran long; one nearly making him late for another if it hadn’t been for Clavis, who prevented it. Yet it didn’t stop Chevalier’s frustration from building. With the sun lower and the hours growing later, even Chevalier had a limit to how much he could do in a day. Even if that limit seemed endless.

“That long of a day, huh?” You asked, rested upon propped pillows with a book in hand.

Chevalier removed his boots and changed into his sleepwear, humming in agreement as he climbed between your outstretched legs. He hugged your torso, laying down his head with the feeling of you tucking the blanket around his shoulders. This wasn’t something he’d done before nor was it something you would’ve expected of him, but the love that swelled in your chest as he rested in your embrace caused you to smile.

Despite being able to relax and get comfortable, you felt tension in his body. There wasn’t much you could do in this position but you managed to push his hair from his face, your nails massaging his scalp as you cardded your fingers through his hair. And with tension in Chevalier’s body melting away, it wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

You couldn’t recall the last time Chevalier fell asleep before you did — if he ever had. 

His face had grew softer, more relaxed; holding a look you’d catch glimpses of if there wasn’t work to be done, or it was just the two of you and you pressed a kiss on his cheek. 

Kissing his head, words slipped from your lips, “My big cat.” 

If Chevalier woke and found your typical roles reversed, well, he wasn’t going to say anything. Whether his shoulder acted as your pillow or if his head rested atop of yours; he would keep his forearms wrapped around you, keep still to prevent your fingers from slipping out of his hair. Only to shift his lower body to be closer to you. Finding pleasure in being held; just as long as it was you who held him.

IkePri Masterlist

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 5

Master Kohga

*slams this down* LATE AND WITH ONE HECK OF A HEADACHE BUT I MADE IT!

Also I feel like we also need to talk about that the reason the Yiga are such doofuses usually is because they're riding the high of a full 100 years victory, and that after getting throughly kicked in the ribs they're probably gonna commit more crimes and probably return to their even more brutal roots actually, Kogah probably being the most likely one to shift to that first.

This goes out to you Warriors fans and simps, because ooh boy is he a delight to write, I think the duality of his name and status as a soldier is neat even if he's not my favorite Link.

Though the regular Linktober one will have to wait after I'm a bit more rested though so either later today or tomorrow, sorry folks.

Also uh warnings ahead?

TW:

Some descriptions of violence, specifically wrist targeted violence, kidnapping, and Reader going a little feral in defense of Warriors, nothing too big, but as this is coming from a horror fan I advise anyone who is squeamish to skip this one.

On a scale of one to ten of intimidation wrought by enemies of the Chain has faced, you’re pretty sure Kohga and the Yiga wouldn’t make even a negative ten on a normal day.

You’re not sure if it’s due to Wild’s most blase attitude about having a literal clan of traitorous, murderous Sheikah at him, a mix of bafflingly phlegmatic and elated with amused delight when talking about schemes you’d more associate to slapstick comedy than anything, the way you’ve seen any Yiga members dive for any throw bananas like a starving Wolfos pack on a lone Stalfos even if there was a cliff right in front of them with even more single minded determination than what was given to their mission, the way he’d refer to them as “Look they’re technically insane menaces to polite society out for mine and Flora’s blood, but they’re our technically insane menaces to polite society out for our blood” with a mix of bemusement and amusement or a mix of all three but according to the resident cook they truly weren’t a threat compared to, say, the cultists of Hyrule’s time whose sole goal wasn’t even to kill him but simply make him bleed, or Majora whom indirectly inflicted endless torture on Time, or Demise who literally started the cycle all of your heroes inevitably went through (because you could never blame Sky, none of you would even if it took shaking the notion into his thick skull). And they’ve apparently gone even more docile and to ground after Wild had defeated their master.

“And THEN he apparently has the nerve to go through our base and raid our banana supply! The nerve of that pesky, insistently annoying pest- Hey, are you even listening?” The sudden call made you jump, hissing as your wrist restraints dug into your skin, because apparently shackles with spikes on the inside of them are a thing and you very much would not have liked the approximate feeling of barbed wire wedged into your skin, biting into your flesh with all the viciousness and brutality that ensured you wouldn’t move your hands without feeling agony, the tone indignant as the presumably dead man stomped his foot nearby, “This is serious! First he peels me and my clan members like a banana, greatly exaggerates the rumor of my death and then THIS?!”

You school your features, trying really, really hard not to act out again as it comes down dangerously close onto Warrior’s unconscious head. Nodding along with the seriousness and solemnity worthy of a funeral, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Such disrespect, at least you guys didn’t exaggerate about his death. And you’re supposed to be the bad guys here?”

(Well, more like you couldn’t move, really, funny thing about spikes on one’s skin and having one of your legs broken to the point glancing at exposed bone makes you want to dry heave at the gory sight, it.is.agony. Funny, how pain is an effective restraint in keeping people pinned down better than any arrow.)

You quickly revised your opinion and reassess the threat given the situation you're in now, as after your patrol on Wild’s Hyrule with Warriors you’d gotten ambushed and kidnapped through a mix of a double Silver Lynel ambush and sheer element of the surprise as bait, Warriors going down protecting you with all of the ferocity of his namesake, and choosing to risk getting a little roughed up over being separated from him.

You’re quite proud of yourself really, what with the way that you almost fully tore a chunk out of a Blademaster’s throat with your teeth and before they gave up, leg broken and with the spikes on your wrist as you woke up first with the fury of Volvagia’s fire scorching your veins, overwhelming the icy chill of terror in your veins and only instinct driving you because who knows what they’d done to him. Worth it. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you let something happen to your favorite soldier boy. At least now you’re both in the same place, even if it’s with the man running the doomsday show himself.

“I know right?! Once I get my hands on that little nuisance, I am going to kill him dead!”

It’s a bit of a pity, in a way. You’re sure that under better circumstances you’d be as amused as Wild by him and he’d be a lovely conversation partner, you doubt the Yiga would follow him if he wasn’t charismatic after all, like watching a wet cat get their head stuck in a jar you had to admit watching the man struggle and fail was just a bit hilarious.

Alas by the whims of the gods spinning the wheel of fate and making it be fully comprised of misfortune to the point you really would like to have a nice chat involving your fists and their faces and maybe one foot straight up Hylia's gash, twas not to be, but it works in your favor. You just needed to stall for as long as you could until Warriors woke up or had an opening stop feigning sleep, either works.

“I just had a thought, a truly magnificent idea worthy of someone as worthy of being the Calamity’s most trusted champion! You travel with that twerp and his companions don’t you?”, the man stilled, then swerved towards you, you contained a flinch in a sudden movement, just on the edge of cartoony, adamantly looking over his shoulder rather than the twisted, crimson eye of the cold mask of the leader of the people who joked about keeping one of Warriors’ eyes as a necklace for it worked just as well as gem, “You could work for us instead, we’d pay you quite well for the information.”

Adamantly trying not to look at Warrior’s behind him, you hummed, head tilted, pretending to think about it, then shrugging, “Eh, I’ll pass. You Yiga don’t take well to traitors no?”

The man crossed his arms, adamantly nodding, “Of course not! Any and all who forsake our god should be slowly watch as their body parts are fed to Moldugas while they’re still alive!”

Cool, cool, lovely imagery to have, you were going to have one serious talk with Wild about proper threat assement once you’re back in camp by the way. You smile a bit back, remembering Warrior’s and using it as a reason to force a grimace away. Of the way he could charm better than any prince, making people fall in love with him effortlessly for better or worse and how you or Legend would viciously defend him from the worse crowd even if it gave you both Time’s exasperation (and grief from the other Links, who are all menaces whom you wished were less perceptive at times). Of the way he amusedly shared with you he main advantage was that no one could ever tell wether he was being friendly or baring his teeth, and how he slowly let you notice wether the curve was sharp or soft as you got closer. Making a point of showing your bloody, bloody teeth from both the Blademaster and which dripped down your head from one heck of a Lynel kick, you did not have Warriors natural charisma but you’d make do with your mediocre charm. “Well, I’m not in the habit of liking traitors much either you see. Sorry to let you down on that, plus if I can turn on them I can turn on you right? Better we skip that, I can give you a banana cake and banana pretzel recipe from where I’m from as compensation though?”

(You did not, in fact, know a recipe for banana cakes and pretzels by the way, but at this point you'll say anything just to buy you more time. Nothing like the age old ancient technique of lying. Wars would be proud his lessons came in handy.)

To his credit, he didn’t flinch. You’d actually be a bit shocked if he did given his clans entire gimmick to be fair. Sliding away from Warrior’s prone form and towards the one actually open door, keeping his back to the soldier, although his attention immediately focused on you like a Guardians aim, completely missing the light twitch to Warriors’ fingers you could spot in the dim torch light, “Fair enough, though you’re missing out on a lot if you ask me. Now! Banana cake you say? Might you be a person of culture after all even with an horrendous choice of company?”

Would you look at that, looking like a horror show does have it’s advantages!

“I mean I’d write it down but you know,”, you make a vague motion with your wrists, wincing a bit at the spikes, those would be a pain to get out later, you’d much have preferred ropes or chains, “But if you get some paper or get me to a kitchen I can direct your folks how to make it? You’d be the first to get a taste of it if you’re there too.”

He hums, pacing back and forth, Warriors eyes lightly crack open, the sapphire clouding with shock at your state, you can’t look at him long enough to figure out the ensuing combination of emotions, flashing, but you do see when the gems are forged into cobalt blades, you quickly mouth to him ‘Get free’ as soon as Kohga isn’t looking at you, he closes his eyes as Kohga turns towards him and nods. Though the Poe flame azure of his gaze could have probably killed the leader of the Yiga ten times over as he addresses you, “You’re an awfully generous hostage aren’t you? Though I like the way you think.”

You shrug, “I mean I’m not being manhandled, plus I’m bored so why not make some good food to kill time?”

You can see him weight his options, unnervingly staring at you beneath the mask. You adamantly don’t look at Warriors’ as he slides his boot very lightly against the wall, a small blade springing from the small compartment, thanking the Three the Yiga didn’t check either of your shoes as he twists around as silently as he can manage to cut himself free as Kogah nods, “Anyone with an appreciation for bananas should be allowed to share their wisdom, can you walk?”

You give him a flat look, you think Warriors bites his tongue to keep from making an equally indignant sound as Kohga seems to have the dots, awkwardly coughing, “That was a retorical question of course you can’t! I shall however extend you my benevolence, and call on my subordinates to carry you-“

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence when Warriors pounces with a snarl, you lurch back, hissing as the spikes make your wrists bleed and chocking down a shout at the pain that crawls through your leg like lightning, but it’s enough.

Warriors wraps the remains of his rope around the Yiga Clan Leader’s throat in a makeshift garrote, and make sure to use his momentum to slam his head against the cold, hard ground of the hideout, doing it again for good measure with all of the strength and ferocity you knew for a fact he kept as well sheathed as a hidden blade.

It all took but a second, he didn’t even scream. You doubt that killed him, but he isn’t getting back up any time soon.

You slump over, coughing blood from your mouth, it wouldn't help much but it was a start, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Wars.”

He rushes towards you as soon as he finishes tying Kohga up with the remnants of his own rope, gently wiping the blood from your sight, he was battered and bruised but the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your life as he checked you over, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relief ringing like a sword being sheathed, it would be alright. “Can’t say I’m happy to be fashionably late this time. What did they do to you?”

“Hey, none of that,” you gently touch your foreheads together, you smile, tasting rust on your lips though Warriors doesn’t mind as you lightly try to take his mind out of it, “You should see the other guy.”

He sighs, fondly exasperated as he shakes his head, you consider the quirk of his lips a win even as he pauses over your wrists, eyes flashing with rage before focusing on your leg, “I’m sure, that was a killer performance. Maybe after all this is over you should take up acting back home.”

You snort, “I mean I did learn from the best-“

it distracts you long enough for him to snap your leg back into place. And all you know is that you with pain, ripping through your throat as you finally, finally, feel safe enough to pass out.

(Warriors winces sympathetically, heart breaking a little at your pain but knowing it was the only way you wouldn’t focus on it, better than for . Holding you close and allowing you to muffle your scream into his shoulder as he wraps your leg in his scarf, guilty and fury carefully hidden behind the soldier mask, knowing that the only thing that would satisfy the flames of retribution in his chest would be to use the Yiga as kindling until they eventually burned the remnants of protective rage all away to ash.

But he could make do with taking you as gently as he could as you pass out in his arms, resolve himself to get the contraption on your wrists out as soon as you were both back at camp. And to kicking Kogah on the way out. It's not nearly enough but it's a start.

You protected him as best as you could, it’s his turn to return the favor as he can as well. Anything else can come later.)

[supercap2319]

"I have to meet Silva at the bastion in fifteen minutes." The tone in Sky's voice was a good indicator that he wasn't looking forward to another Specialist training session. To be perfectly honest; he wanted to skip it for today.

The bed shifts as Y/N joined Sky and laid down on his chest, feeling Sky's breathing going up and down as they laid their for a few minutes and stared at the ceiling. Sky put an arm around Y/N's body and pulled him flushed against his body.

"You know a lot can happen in fifteen minutes. We could schedule in a quickie so you won't be so grumpy when you meet Silva." The smile was ever present. I'm his boyfriend's words as Sky let out a chuckle. "I suppose shagging for a few minutes wouldn't be so bad."

"Good. Because I've been itching for more of this gorgeous body of yours." Y/N smiled.

Sky chuckled and leaned his face towards Y/N's, and they shared a kiss.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

~~

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son. 

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly. 

She made his miserable heart full. 

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life. 

He never believed he was worthy of her love. 

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

~~

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading. 

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it. 

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn. 

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground. 

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun. 

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly. 

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded. 

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight. 

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well. 

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne. 

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” 

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.” 

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time. 

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else. 

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously. 

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend. 

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics. 

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything. 

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line. 

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her. 

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding. 

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room. 

She looked at him first. 

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

~~

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings. 

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast. 

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.” 

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave. 

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal. 

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found. 

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully. 

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing. 

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?” 

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them. 

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree. 

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them. 

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice. 

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation. 

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself. 

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him. 

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her. 

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words. 

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago. 

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting. 

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him. 

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him. 

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before. 

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature. 

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile. 

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced. 

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave. 

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease. 

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal. 

~~

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering. 

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed. 

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through. 

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.” 

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause. 

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer. 

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain. 

They couldn’t say no to her. 

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer. 

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow. 

~~

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing. 

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm. 

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat. 

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair. 

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated. 

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table. 

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached. 

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily. 

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held. 

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly. 

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her. 

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against. 

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously. 

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.” 

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet. 

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her. 

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before. 

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had. 

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears. 

He had never felt so important. 

~~

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history. 

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.  

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm. 

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior. 

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day. 

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife. 

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door. 

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl. 

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her. 

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him. 

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.” 

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands. 

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving. 

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window. 

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious. 

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name. 

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower. 

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair. 

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance. 

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.” 

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries. 

~~

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

She recognized the boy immediately. 

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze. 

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her. 

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew. 

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.” 

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her. 

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood. 

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves. 

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze. 

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair. 

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless. 

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon. 

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense. 

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed. 

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence. 

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history. 

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her. 

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her. 

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.” 

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

~~

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around. 

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil. 

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra. 

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised. 

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her. 

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself. 

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again. 

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes.��

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile. 

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard. 

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard. 

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes. 

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him. 

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!” 

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her. 

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book. 

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend. 

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly. 

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond. 

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him. 

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him. 

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him. 

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him. 

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant. 

She chose him. 

No one had ever chosen him.

~~

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure. 

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave. 

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.” 

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free. 

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him. 

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.” 

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him. 

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival. 

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother. 

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached. 

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed. 

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words. 

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.” 

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.” 

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her. 

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying. 

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could. 

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.” 

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her. 

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before. 

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could. 

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks. 

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar. 

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers. 

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile. 

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair. 

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities. 

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear. 

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks. 

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred. 

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming. 

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted. 

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him. 

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye. 

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.” 

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. 

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life. 

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!” 

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste. 

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost. 

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything. 

~~

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet. 

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered. 

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side. 

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.” 

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away. 

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave. 

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat. 

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt. 

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful. 

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now. 

~~

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong. 

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised. 

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort. 

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold. 

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left. 

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived. 

It suddenly struck her. 

They were marigolds. 

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them. 

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile. 

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes. 

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow. 

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.” 

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior. 

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together. 

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him. 

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation. 

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers. 

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry. 

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain. 

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world. 

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time. 

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame. 

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.” 

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him. 

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him. 

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day. 

Aemond sighed and bowed his head. 

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears. 

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.” 

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath. 

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child. 

But none of it mattered. 

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.” 

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter. 

His first laugh since the incident. 

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side. 

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish. 

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying. 

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her. 

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate. 

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily. 

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl. 

But they all had a duty to perform.

~~

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit. 

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed. 

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins. 

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm. 

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.” 

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly. 

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time. 

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her. 

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers. 

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them. 

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her. 

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands. 

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on. 

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer. 

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place. 

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her. 

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life. 

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her. 

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker. 

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her. 

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe. 

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep. 

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays. 

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers. 

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew. 

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him. 

~~

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

[profound-imagination]

Little Witch - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: It’s finally here, part two of Little Witch. This part is for @sweetshifter and @sweetshifter only.

T/W: Mentions of torture, nothing too descriptive but it’s there!

W/C: 1.7k

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ruhn was growing frustrated. He had no right to be. He’d caused this, his actions had brought about her silence again but gods how he missed her voice. It didn’t help that he had a sneaking suspicion she spoke freely to the others when he wasn’t around, she spoke to Ithan at the very least if not the others. Smug little Pup.

He couldn’t complain though, she’d stuck by him through every step of his ongoing healing. She tended his wounds, pulled him out of nightmares and cast little balls of light in her hands when the entire room was shrouded in his shadows as a result. She’d wept silently as he and Lidia told their story, wept for her older sister when she learned the truth of Lidia’s life. Lidia in turn had sobbed for her baby sister when she told her own story, casting those starry eyed gazes at him that he’d missed so much when he entered the story. She attended every therapy session with him, the ones she knew about anyway, and held his hand. His silent pillar of strength.

He could hear the thump thump thump of the music blaring through the house as he approached. Flynn must’ve been throwing another party, the guest list was small these days. The three found brothers who were now five if he counted Ithan and Tharion, which he did. Bryce and Hunt. Lidia and his Little Witch. No one heard the door open as he strolled in although he knew Dec knew he was there and approaching the house long before he first heard the music, yes, his brother was that good. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face when he took in the scene in the living room. Bryce perched on Hunt’s lap in the beaten up armchair, Dec with a laptop in one hand, beer in the other, Lidia and Tharion chatting on the sofa. Flynn was dancing on the coffee table, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, Ruhn’s Little Witch on his back, arms wrapped around Flynn’s neck, mouthing the lyrics along with him a brilliant smile on her face. “You’re going to drop her, Flynn!” Ithan was hissing from his seat, leant right forward ready to catch her when Flynn did drop her. “No I won’t, Pup! I’m completely in control-“ famous last words as Flynn’s foot slipped and he fell, Y/N let out a scream as she lost her grip on Flynn and a purely Fae protective possessiveness flared through Ruhn.

He snarled at his friend as he caught her, her doe eyes looking up at him, a brilliant smile on her face. “Hi there.” He purred at her and delighted in the colour that flared in her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a greeting hug and then untangled herself from him and pulled Flynn to his feet. But Ruhn knew in his bones, in his very soul, that the peace they had found wouldn’t last forever.

Tuesday started like any other day, you’d woken up with Ruhn curled around you like he always was, whether you’d fallen asleep in his bed or yours, you always woke up with his strong arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin, his heat radiating into your back. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t spoken to him again. There was no doubt that you were irrevocably in love with this male but every time you opened your mouth to speak, to maybe tell him, the whole thing flashed through your mind again, the hurt. Losing him. The dress you never got to wear, the ball you never got to go to. Ruhn shifted pulling you from your thoughts and pulling you with him, turning you as he went.

He smiled up at you as you took in his beautiful face. “Good morning, Witchling.” He said, tightening his arms around your waist. You smiled at him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “What have you got planned today?” He asked into your hair, you shrugged in response. “I’m heading out with the guys, we got a tip off on the DreadWolves, Tharion, Ithan and Lidia are following up on one about Pollux, are you gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asked, lifting your head to look at him. You smiled and nodded at him and pointed to his bookshelf, he grinned, “I can’t wait to hear about which one you picked when I get home.”

You’d been pottering around the kitchen having decided to bake, Ruhn had once told you that lemon cake was his favourite, maybe if you couldn’t tell him you could show him how you felt. It was a good idea in theory, but standing in the kitchen covered in flour was proving the opposite, still you persisted. Studying the recipe so hard you almost didn’t hear the front door swing open. No, not swing, bang open. You turned, a sense of dread filling you at what you’d find behind you, still clutching the mixing bowl.

Devastatingly beautiful was the only way to describe Pollux Antonius as he filled the doorway, smiling a lover’s smile at you. “Well, I can see why Princey is keeping you locked away, a perfect mix of your two sisters, beautiful little thing.” He purred. Terror seized your body as he took a step towards you. “Your friends won’t make it back to you in time, Mordoc is giving them the runaround.” He took another step towards you, “Now, be a good girl, don’t run, it’ll only make this worse, don’t fight and I promise you won’t suffer for long.” He grinned. You finally convinced your limbs to unlock and move and you launched the mixing bowl at him and fled the room.

He was on you in two strides and pain lanced through you as he threw you into the wall. All the air left your lungs as you slid down the wall and rallied your power. You could do this, you could control the power, the power didn’t control you. Ruhn had been training you, so had Flynn and Dec, you could do this. “Ah ah ah” Pollux crooned as he knelt in front of you, “None of that nasty raw power of yours, sweetheart.” He sneered as he snapped a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, not Gorsian, no, these were the same cuffs the Witches had used. You screamed as they embedded themselves into your wrists and drained your power from you. “It’s funny how giving the Witches are now they’ve turfed your sister off of her throne.”

He dragged you by the wrists into the garden, your back scraping against the floor, towards the trees and hung you between two of them and began. You screamed until you could scream no more and he talked and talked, spitting his venom, apparently Ruhn had given him nothing but attitude during their time together. You smirked at that. Of course he had. “But you, hurting you,” he crooned, “hurts all of them, Princey, Lidia, the Pup, and when they come back and find you dead it will fracture them all so much their little rebellion will fall apart.” You mustered the little fight you had left and spat at him.

The pain got worse then as he started carving out parts of you. “I wonder if I cut out enough if I’ll find the source of the raw power you possess, take it for myself.” He asked as he brought his dagger to his mouth and licked the blood from the blade. You blocked him out then, his words and his ministrations. Ruhn, you thought of Ruhn. Of his kindness, his smile, his persistence! He never gave up on you, not once, he was still there, still fighting for your words, words you never gave him and now you never would. Blackness started creeping in the edges of your vision. Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn.

There was nothing but endless blackness and pain. Was this death? Was there really no peace? “Baby, no! Please, please come back!” Ruhn? You span, searching for him but he was nowhere. “Little Witch, can you hear me? Please come back, don’t leave me! You don’t get to leave me!” Was he crying? You could hear other things as well now, a wolf was howling, Ithan, that was Ithan. Flynn was shouting. “Shock her again!” Tharion, that was Tharion, “Hunt! Shock her again!” “I can’t! Not with Ruhn there!” A snarl, that was unmistakably Ruhn. “All of you move!” Declan. “Baby please wake up!”

You weren’t going to wake up, you were sure of it. “Goodbye Ruhn, I love you.” You weren’t sure how his mind speaking worked, he’d never tried it again after it had terrified you that first time. Then there was a primal roaring in your head. “No! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to say goodbye, that love you me like this! You wake up and tell me that!” Ruhn growled into your head. “Hunt, shock her again, I’ll move.” Pain splintered through you as he let you go.

You gasped as your eyes flew open and your lungs burned. There was so much pain running through your body. Declan was knelt next to you, his healing magic working the best it could on the cuffs he was trying desperately to remove. Ithan sat at your back, supporting you, keeping you upright. Then there was Ruhn. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” He growled as he ran his hands through his hair. Blood, he was covered in blood, as if reading your thoughts he said “He’s gone, he’s dead, he won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.” Lidia knelt next to Ruhn, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, this is all my fault.” It almost killed you to move your arm to grasp your sisters hand but you did it anyway and gave her a weak smile before looking back to Ruhn.

“I love you, you big idiot.” You croaked, and his face shuttered, fresh tears fell down his face. “I love you too, Little Witch.” You smiled at him weakly, “Let’s get you inside and healed up, then you can tell me about how much you love me.” He grinned down at you. You reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding Lidia’s and wiped his tears away, “Okay, Ruhn.”

[ally-writes-many-things]

I fucking Need You (Ruhn Danaan)

Summary: You and Ruhn break up for good after he said things that hurt you to the fire and he begs you to come back.

Words: 2.7k

Requested: Yes

Warnings or A/N: I forgot to add in. He was acting like a dick because his dad was putting pressure on him and he took it out on the wrong person.

"I understand that you're the crown prince, but could you please lend a hand around the house? It shouldn't just be me, Dec, and Flynn doing all the cleaning," you said, tossing one of his shirts on him. "I'm not your maid, I'm your girlfriend,"

Ruhn casually placed the shirt on the chair and replied, "I'll do it later,"

"That's what you always say, but you never do," you retorted.

Turning away from you, Ruhn headed towards the shower. "I said I'll do it later," he repeated.

"Ruhn," you called after him.

He simply waved you off before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

You couldn't help but mutter to yourself, "You've got to be kidding me."

Grabbing your books and bag, you made your way downstairs, where Dec and Flynn were engrossed in a TV show. "Have a good day at class, Tater Tot," Flynn teased.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

Upon arriving home from work and classes, the house was booming with music. As you entered, you were greeted with the sight of people making out on the couch, and others practically fucking in the corner. Although you didn't mind the boys having parties in their own house and that they could do whatever they pleased, you simply didn't have the energy to join the party all night long, especially after a stressful day at work.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way up the stairs towards the room you shared with Ruhn, but your arm was grasped by his hand. Turning to face Ruhn, you could tell from his glazed eyes and broad smile that he was clearly high. "Where are you going, baby?"

"Upstairs, because I don't want to party tonight,” You calmly replied.

"Yeah, because you're such a fucking bitch," he retorted.

His words struck a chord within you. “I'm a stuck up bitch because I don't want to party one fucking time? I had a long fucking day of work and class,” You questioned, anger filling your veins.

"You're a bitch because all you do is nag and complain," he alleged.

Slightly exasperated, I responded, "I don't want to do this with you at the moment. We can fight in the morning like always,"

"No, let's do it right here," Ruhn insisted, his arms crossed defiantly.

“Really? Here and now? In front of everyone?" I sighed.

"Yes, so that this time everyone will know what happened. You bitch at this morning because I had left a single dirty shirt on the floor," he countered.

"If it were only that one minor thing, I would not have. It's frustrating because you hardly contribute to the household chores, unlike Flynn, Dec, and myself," I argued.

"In that case, maybe you should go to fuck Flynn," he snapped retortedly.

"What?"

"I am the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae, and I don't need some half-breed bitch telling me what to do in my own house," he callously declared.

That statement shattered what was left of your heart into tiny fragments. "I am done from the same fights, Ruhn. I am done, completely and utterly done. This time, we are over for good. Go fuck that faun who has been lusting after you for the past few months," You screamed in his face.

Maybe I will," he shot back.

"You are free fuck who you please," You yelled back, walking upstairs to gather your belongings.

You didn't have many possessions since you had only recently started fresh when you moved in with Ruhn a few weeks ago. This time, you didn't shed any tears. Over the past few months, you had countless fights and breakups, which were the times that brought you to tears. However, what Ruhn said tonight, referring to you as a "half-breed bitch," was the final straw for you.

You swiftly packed your belongings into your suitcase, forcefully removed the R necklace that Ruhn had given you on your one-year anniversary, and threw it onto the dresser. You didn't care if people stared or whispered as you walked towards the door with your things. Let them talk and say whatever they wanted, because ultimately, it was you who chose to permanently end the relationship with the crown prince.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

Ruhn woke up to a throbbing headache, regretting his actions once again. As he sat up in bed, he absentmindedly rubbed his forehead and glanced over to your side, only to find that you were not there. This was not unusual, as you always had early morning shifts. Unconcerned, he got out of bed and discarded his clothes on his way to the bathroom for a soothing shower.

Covering his body and hair with soap, he tried to recall the events of the previous night, but it was all a haze. He couldn't remember a single detail, not even if he had seen you come home.

After completing his shower, Ruhn returned to the bedroom, wrapped in a towel. As he approached the dresser, his eyes noticed your broken chain necklace and picked it up. He noticed that all of your belongings on the dresser were missing.

Placing the broken necklace back, he anxiously opened the drawers that belonged to you, only to find them empty. His heart raced. Rushing back to the bathroom, he switched on the light to discover that all traces of your makeup, perfumes, and personal items were gone. Returning to the room, he searched frantically, realizing that every trace of you were gone. In that moment, his heart shattered. You and him must have gotten into a fight last night and a pretty bad one if you took all of your things.

Without wasting any time, he hastily got dressed and dashed downstairs, only to find Dec and Flynn tidying up the aftermath of last night's party. Their eyes remained fixed on their task, refusing to acknowledge his presence. "What happened last night?"

No response followed, so he attempted once more. "All of (Yn)'s belongings are missing."

This time, both Dec and Flynn glanced up but exchanged loaded looks before resuming their cleaning duties. If they were deliberately withholding information from him, then he must have done something horrible. "Guys, please tell me where my girlfriend's things are."

Flynn snickered, and Declan scoffed disdainfully.

"What was that all about?"

Flynn sighed before finally meeting his gaze. "Don't you remember what you said to her last night?" Declan's words dripped with venom.

His heart plummeted to his stomach. If Dec addressed him with such fury, it must have been something awful.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to leap over this couch and beat the shit out of you right now?" Flynn added.

His stomach churned with anxiety. Whatever he had done, it was a really big mistake. Dec and Flynn were fiercely protective of you, ready to defend you against anyone who hurt you. "What did I do?"

"Does 'fucking bitch' and 'half-breed bitch' ring a bell?"

He took a deep breath, struggling to recollect his actions from the previous night. "I didn't call her a half-breed bitch, did I?"

"More like 'I am the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae, and I don't need some half-breed bitch telling me what to do in my own house.' You fucked up, Danaan," Flynn replied, tossing a red solo cup into the trash bag.

Dec chimed in, picking up another cup and disposing of it. "You also told her that she could go fuck Flynn."

"Yeah, she broke up with you for good. We are done with how you treat her. She is the best thing that has happened to you. All she wants from you is effort in chores. Go and try to fix things with her or we'll move out,” Flynn added.

Ruhn's head throbbed as he attempted to recall the events of the previous night, but the memories escaped him. He couldn't have uttered those words. You being a half-breed was never an issue for Ruhn. He cherished every part of you. It was a part of what made you, you. But in that moment, he had carelessly used something that he knew you struggled with as a weapon to hurt you.

Desperation clawed at his soul as he searched for a way to mend what he had broken. He knew apologies were no longer enough, that actions spoke louder than words.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆

It has been seven days since you ended things with Ruhn once and for all. Despite his relentless texts and visits to your doorstep, you have made a conscious decision to ignore both your phone and the doorbell. Deep down, you understand that giving in to his advances would only lead you back to a place you are determined to move on from. You are committed to holding yourself to a higher standard, no matter how difficult it may be.

The ache was still there in your heart. Ruhn’s words had cut deep within you. He knew just how insecure you are about you being a half-breed.

The memories of the past few months played like a broken record in your mind. The countless times you had separated, just to get back together again, hoping that each time would be different. As you neared the car parking lot from CCU, you spotted Ruhn walking in the opposite direction. "(Name)," you called out, trying to maintain a steady tone.

"What are you doing here, Danaan?" you asked.

"I wanted to apologize for my words," Ruhn replied, his expression reflecting genuine regret.

"I'm not interested in hearing it," you responded, brushing past him and heading towards your car. "I meant what I said last night, unless you were too out of it to remember."

"Flynn and Declan filled me in on what happened. Please, just listen," Ruhn pleaded, reaching out to grab your arm. "I truly am sorry for what I said."

"You used a half-breed bitch against me, knowing how much it would hurt," you retorted. "And now you expect me to forgive you?"

"I was high on Mirthroot, I didn't mean it," Ruhn explained. "Your heritage doesn't matter to me, you know that."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his excuse. It was clear that he didn't understand the depth of your hurt.

“I didn't have the same support system as Bryce. I didn't have a pack of wolves or a Crown Prince looking out for me when I was growing up. I had to face insults from faes and humans alike, constantly being called a worthless half-breed or half-breed whore. And you knew all of this, yet you still used it against me. I don't care if you were high. I've known people who were completely out of it and they never stooped to insulting their friends or loved ones like you did,” you explained, your voice filled with hurt and anger.

"(Name)-"

"No, I've had enough. I have put up with a lot from you, but calling me a half-breed bitch was the last straw," you stated firmly, walking away and leaving Ruhn standing there in silence.

Ruhn ran after you, falling to his knees with tears in his eyes, pleading, "Please, I'm truly sorry, baby.”

You stopped in your tracks, watching Ruhn drop to his knees. A part of you wanted to give in, to forgive him and take him back into your arms. But another part of you held firm, remembering all the hurt and disrespect you had endured.

Taking a deep breath, you faced Ruhn, his desperate gaze locked on you. The tears in his eyes mirrored the ache in your heart.

"Ruhn, I can't do this anymore," you said, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "I can't keep going back and forth with you, hoping things will change. The trust is broken, the respect is gone."

Ruhn's shoulders shook with sobs as he struggled to hold back his tears. "I love you, (Name). I know I've messed up, I know I've hurt you. But please, give me ione last chance. I will do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the vulnerability and sincerity in them. You knew that a part of you still loved him, still hoped for a future with him.

"I'm not sure if I can do this, Ruhn," you whispered before he took your hand and led you through the busy campus.

Eventually, you arrived at a busy gathering area where Ruhn raised his voice to get everyone's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce you to someone," Ruhn declared with a smile. Your heart pounded with anticipation as he turned towards you and proudly announced. "This incredible woman before you is not only the love of my life, but also the most beautiful, kind-hearted, patient, and brilliant individual you will ever meet - (Name) (Last Name). As some of you might know, I said some things last night and they were not a true reflection of my feelings," Ruhn began, his voice steady and sincere. "I want to make it clear that her being a half-breed doesn't negate that. She is my soulmate, my everything, and I vow to make sure she knows that,”

"Ruhn, do you honestly believe this will make a difference? You're speaking to me as if you're delivering a formal address," you remarked.

"You want real?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied.

"Then I'll give it to you," Ruhn said as he knelt before you.

You maintained a steady gaze as Ruhn knelt before you, the onlookers around hoping for something different than what you expected. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as he spoke. The skepticism that had been building within you seemed to gain more ground with each passing moment. Your instincts told you to brace yourself for what was to come next.

Ruhn's eyes locked with yours as he spoke, his voice steady and sincere. There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, a crack in the facade that he had carefully constructed. Despite the grand gesture unfolding before you, there was still a lingering doubt in your mind. The onlookers may have hoped for a proposal, but you knew better than that.

"I know I've been acting like an asshole lately, and I'll explain why if you give me a chance to explain that to you in private but I shouldn't have taken it out on the one person who means more to me than anyone else. You've been incredibly patient with me, and I appreciate that. I'm willing to give up partying, even the Mirthroot and the star sword, if it means you'll give me another chance," he declared.

Tears welled up in your eyes as Ruhn poured his heart out in front of everyone, fully aware that someone was likely recording the moment. "You know someone's probably recording this, and your dad is going to be pissed that you mentioned giving up the star sword, especially for a half-breed," you whispered.

"I don't give a fuck. You're the only one that matters to me. This past week has been absolute hell without being able to see you, talk to you, touch you, fuck you. I'd dream of you and wake up, hard as fuck and unable to do anything about it because you weren't there beside me. Everyone thinks you need me, but the truth is, I need you more than you need me. And you fuck me in ways I can't even put into words. I mean, I always come before you anyway," Ruhn confessed.

"Not that you don't fuck me good, because you do. I just fuck you better," you replied.

"You do. Please, give me another chance. I'll be your servant if that's what it takes-”

"I don't want a servant. I want the Ruhn I fell in love with, the one from a few months ago. I want you to be that person again, not this version who doesn't realize the pain he's causing. If you can promise me that you'll go back to being him, then yes, I will take you back," you stated firmly.

Ruhn's face lit up with a smile. "Yes. A thousand times, yes," he declared.

"Then get up and kiss me," you commanded.

Ruhn swiftly rose to his feet, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you passionately, pouring all his emotions from the past week into the kiss. "Take me home so I can fuck you," you whispered, your lips just inches from his.

[swordgrace]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒.

༆ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: as lady-in-waiting to rhaenyra targaryen, you find that her eldest son, jacaerys, is the only true friend and comfort you have amidst a brewing war that threatens to tear the realm apart.

note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.

༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

{ FORMAT: one shot — requested.

{ WORD COUNT: 11.5K (this is a long one, not sorry!)

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, inexperience from both reader & jace, loss of virginity (mutual), first time sexual experiences, sexual tension, p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, lots of kissing and sweeter antics, slight risk of getting caught, oral sex (fem!receiving), handjob, fingering, hair pulling kink, brief overstimulation, tiddy sucking, this whole thing is soft & sweet smut, nothing disgusting here, jacaerys is the epitome of a perfect lover :))

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am lowkey transitioning into becoming a Jace girl, I absolutely love him and I’m really enjoying where his character is going! This was a request from an anon user who wanted something freeform! I hope you all enjoy it, thanks so much for all of the recent love & support for my work! It makes me so happy! ❤️

𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒, harkened in from the gentle roll of the tides. Saltwater and dampened rock filled your nostrils, aided by the fluttering breeze as it danced across the obsidian cliffs of Dragonstone.

The castle stood the testament of time, a monolith to the rule of the Targaryens. It loomed overhead, less frightening in the lighter hours, blanketed by glittering rays of sunlight. A cloudless day — good for sailing, you thought, as vessels ushered in goods to the shoddy harbor below.

Beneath the vibrancy of a cloudless sky, you could see the shadow of a dragon soaring overhead — the Princess Rhaenys, from the horned shape above. You cupped your hand around your eyes, squinting to see, constantly mesmerized by such creatures.

In your fantastical dreams, you flew upon the back of a dragon, letting the wind scrape across your visage, feeling the weight of something so powerful beneath you. Of course, you were neither Targaryen nor Velaryon — possessing a dragon wouldn’t be in the cards for you, and perhaps that was a good thing.

As much as you enjoyed the beauty of Dragonstone, you much preferred the outdoors. The weather was splendid, and you took small victories wherever possible. With war on the horizon between your Queen Rhaenyra and her usurper brother, any chance at happiness was worth chasing after and holding onto, while you could.

House Celtigar had bent the knee to Rhaenyra, and your father sat at her council. You were made to be a lady-in-waiting, much your initial disdain. The station you held would’ve been considered a great honor to most young women, but you were inclined to be out in the ocean or on the back of a horse.

Now, you found enjoyment in it, wherever you could.

Oceanic air filled your lungs in a singular inhale, tinged with a saltwater sting. You stood near one of the many stone terraces lining the lengthy walkway to the castle’s entrance, accompanied by Joffrey. The boy had become your greatest joy amidst the brewing chaos, and you were rather grateful for it.

“Would you like to see the ocean, little Prince?” You held the boy’s hand, stooping down to wrap your arms beneath him, standing him up along the cobbled bannister. Joffrey’s laughter could brighten a whole room, and it did — it certainly lifted your spirits.

“When will I be able to ride a dragon?” He questioned, pointing towards the shape of Meleys in the sky. Joffrey was rather inquisitive — a sharp mind, one that would become a great leader someday.

You were unsure of how to answer such a question. Tyraxes was young and still small, just like Joffrey. “Whenever you grow up,” You hummed, a smile playing at either corner of your mouth. “You must be as tall as your brother, first.”

Joffrey toyed with the wooden dragon clutched between his hands, gaze falling toward the ground. “Luke wasn’t much taller.” He mumbled, and it nearly crushed your heart completely to hear the confusion and despair in a child’s voice.

Youth knew more than most, and in the mind of a child, something heinous could appear innocent, or something tragic was beyond their comprehension. Joffrey knew that Luke was gone — he wasn’t coming back. Silence drifted between the both of you, and you found it difficult to change the subject from Lucerys to something lighthearted.

“I miss him.” Joffrey’s sweet voice rang out like the pealing of bells, crystal-clear and downtrodden. You turned him around within your grasp, keeping your hands slotted underneath his arms to ground him. His eyes swam with unshed tears, prompting you to bring him into your embrace.

“It’s alright, my Prince. He’s still here,” You whispered, hugging the boy as tightly as you could. It was enough to rip at your heartstrings, tear you asunder as melancholy began to eat you alive. The fate of Lucerys was a tragic one — unfair and unwarranted, and now, a catalyst for destruction between kin. “We will remember him.”

From afar, Jacaerys observed you and his brother, standing along the ramparts with a palm atop the pommel of his shortsword. The emotional turmoil he continued to feel in regards to Lucerys happened to swell the moment he saw Joffrey clinging onto you — and he knew.

Wisps of a tempered breeze stirred his curled tresses, drifting across his regalia as it caught against his cloak. After the death of his brother, he had come out to the ramparts nearly every night, to sob and to curse the world, to pray to any God that would listen — return Lucerys, bring him home. He had lost count, and in turn, lost a bit of faith.

Remaining optimistic in the face of unavoidable danger was a difficult thing — fear had gripped him once, but no longer. He knew that the only time a man could be brave was in situations like these, where terror stared him in the face and dared him to submit.

Many still referred to him as a mere boy, with little experience and no real understanding of the world and its cruelty. Jacaerys had shed the raiment of boyhood the night he flew blindly into the darkness in the name of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

With the man born, he knew that whatever would come next, he was prepared to face such challenges head-on. Brazenness was not in his nature, but he had learned to adopt stoicism when it mattered most. It was easy to shed the facade around his family, and around you.

His friendship with you was a calm within the storm, a lull in the tempestuous hurricane you were all trapped within. You now had as much stake in this game as he did — your father served on Rhaenyra’s council with Celtigar bannerman pledging to fight in the war to come, and you served as his mother’s lady-in-waiting.

Your blossoming bond was a great comfort, and the tender way in which you cared for Joffrey was a wonderful thing. You had a soft heart — a good heart, and that was something rare to come by. The two of you were both of a similar feather, and the admiration he held for you only seemed to grow stronger each day.

The word friendship often tormented him, on days where you wore beautiful gowns and stood beside his mother, or whenever you smiled. It tormented him when you held Joffrey within your arms and protected him just as fiercely as Rhaenyra would.

Honor demanded that he simply remain just that — a friend, but Jacaerys found himself smitten with you in a way that transcended propriety. To cross that line, especially with you, invited the disdain of his mother and the ire of your father, amongst other things.

Betrothal would be upon him soon enough, likely with a young maiden from the Vale or the Reach to secure an alliance, but it left a sour taste within his mouth. He had little desire to be with anyone else when you were right there.

Jacaerys steeled himself, abandoning his whimsical line of thinking in regards to you. It was a fool’s errand, and he couldn’t afford to be a fool. He stepped closer, the crunch of stone resonating underneath his boots as he approached you and Joffrey.

“My Lady,” Jacaerys’s tone was amiable, like the comforting lick of a warm hearth. His gaze flickered toward Joffrey, bemused with his brother’s antics as you balanced him along the bannister. “What are you doing up there?” He asked, playful in the presence of his little brother.

“Flying,” Joffrey’s head lifted from your shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. You happened to carry him in such a way that he called it flying — and he was asking you to do it again. “Flying!”

With a giggle, you picked the boy up, swinging him up enough to let him get some air. His melancholy turned to jovial laughter as you soared him over to Jacaerys, who was more than happy to pick him up. Joffrey clung to Jace, hugging his brother with all of his strength.

“You are getting too big to fly,” Jace mused, holding Joffrey in one arm as he motioned for you to accompany him. His tousled curls and amicable smile sent your heart fluttering as it had many times before. It wasn’t subtle, your liking of Jacaerys, but you understood the nature of your affections. “Big enough for Tyraxes, soon.”

Jacaerys was perfect, with all of the hallmarks of what a true King should be. He was gentle and eloquent, honed with a blade, learned — and above all, he was kind. The rage that plagued him now was justified, and it pained you to see him become coiled with anger, but you understood why.

As Joffrey regaled the two of you with tales of childlike wonder, soaring his toy dragon around Jace’s head, Jacaerys seemed inclined to converse with you regardless. “I always know where to look, whenever I need to see you.” He mused, walking alongside you as you made your way up the ramparts.

“Is that so?” You chuckled, head canting to one side. “What did you need to see me for, your Grace?” It was a force of habit — he was the heir to the Iron Throne, after all. Jacaerys regarded you with a brief laugh, knowing that formalities were often abandoned whenever the two of you were together.

“Do I need a reason?” Jacaerys mused, voice light and inviting. The crash of the tide upon the beach provided a rather serene ambience, accompanied by the calling of gulls as they circled the bay.

You shook your head, skirts gathered in one hand as you narrowly avoided an upturned plate of stone. “Of course not,” You hesitated, gaze sparkling as your nose wrinkled in mild amusement. “Jacaerys.” You ensured to exaggerate his name, allowing for your conversation to become personal.

At the end of the ramparts, a flock of crimson-clad handmaidens awaited your return. It was likely that they were waiting for you to hand Joffrey over, much to your dismay. The black-headed boy looked to you as you neared the end of your walk.

“I don’t want to go,” He protested, reaching for you as you stepped forward, taking a hold of his hand. “When can we fly again?” Joffrey asked, lower lip jutting out in a rather innocuous pout. He leaned forward, partially out of Jace’s grasp to give you a hug.

“Tomorrow, my Prince. I will let you fly as much as you’d like.” You assured him, reciprocating his hug with one of your own, with all of the warmth one could muster. It was motherly in-nature, and you watched as Jacaerys planted him onto solid ground.

Joffrey took the outstretched hand of a handmaiden, glancing back at you and Jacaerys before they disappeared behind the castle’s massive gates. It always hurt you to leave him, but you knew that tomorrow would come swiftly. A begrudging sigh escaped you before you looked at Jacaerys, countenance somber.

Jace knew what you were about to say — something about Lucerys. The gaping wound left within his heart was barely healed, still oozing with pain, but he was making every effort to mend it. You helped — your resolute reassurance and shoulder to lean on, but sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

Instead, you reached for Jace’s forearm, giving it a brief squeeze of comfort. Whatever sentiments he held, you seemed to echo it, leaving it all unspoken. You and Jacaerys had already spoken about it all at-length — sometimes, he had little desire to tear himself open again.

His head hung low, heap of dark curls billowing in the wind. Jacaerys’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, and he imagined plunging his sword into Aemond Targaryen’s other eye — and then it passed, just as quickly as it had appeared.

A forlorn silence settled between the both of you, one that was born out of mutual understanding and empathy. Jace went quiet often, and you were content to sit in it for as long as he pleased. Instead, you stepped toward the bannister, palms planting themselves atop the stone as you gazed out toward the land surrounding Dragonstone.

“You are good with him,” Jacaerys broke the silence, deliberately stepping towards you as he stood by your side. Joffrey and his half-brothers, Aegon and Viserys, were all he had left. He would die for them if he had to. “He talks about you often.”

An exuberant smile crept onto your features, one of a sweet fondness in regards to Joffrey. “He is a sweet boy — very sharp-witted, though. I would imagine he will grow to be very wise.” You replied, idly tracing your fingers around some of the rocks socketed into the bannister.

“I remember the day he was born,” Jacaerys recalled, remembering the day that his mother, pale skin glistening with sweat, had wobbled into the drawing room, a newborn Joffrey in her arms. “It was a beautiful day, and Ser Harwin was there, and Ser Laenor …” He trailed off, recalling the way that Lucerys had begged to hold his younger brother.

The topic of both Laenor and Harwin were bitter ones — both men playing the role of father. Jacaerys loved them both, as any son would. Another gust of saltwater mist brushed along the ramparts, dusting your cheeks with wisps of moist air.

Wordlessly, you reached for Jace’s arm, looping yours around him as you let him lean against you for support. As much as Jacaerys insisted that he would recover and move on, you ensured him that grieving took time — it came in many shapes and forms.

Jace’s smile was wistful and threadbare, made sorrowful by memories of Lucerys. He didn’t want to sully the moment with his melancholy, holding his head high as he glanced toward you. You were not looking, but it allowed him a moment of appreciation and admiration.

Your beauty was unparalleled, your features delicate and smile like the warmth of a summer sunshine. The way in which you carried yourself was of a kindly disposition, made to be nurturing and helpful instead of imposing. Admittedly, you took his breath away — the feeling was a constant one.

Sunlight sparkled across your countenance, gaze soothing and full of empathy. The way in which you grasped his arm, kept yourself tucked away within his side, it invoked feelings of protectiveness — and newfound affection.

A dragon’s shrill cry reverberated throughout the skies, prompting Jacaerys to immediately look ahead. It was the familiar shriek of Vermax, his bonded dragon, who had grown exponentially. He was larger than Moondancer, with olive-colored scales and orange fins, eyes the color of a burnished gold.

“Māzigon, Vermax!” Jacaerys called, gaining the attention of his dragon as it began to approach, causing your heart to gallop within your chest. He looked at you with a hint of amusement, head canting to one side. “Would you like to see him?” Jace inquired, moving along the wall.

As majestic as dragons were, the wonder within your eyes had quickly shifted to wariness as it landed along the ramparts, rocks scraping underneath its talons. Vermax was much larger when in close proximity than he was flying overhead. “He is wonderful, Jace. Though, it is best if I keep my distance. He might not like me.”

Jacaerys laughed, amber-brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Might not like you?” He mused, knowing that such a thought was outlandish. If he liked you, then Vermax most certainly would. A dragon could always pick apart friend from foe, and you were as far from an enemy as one could be.

“Yes, what — Jacaerys, that is a perfectly reasonable thing to say,” You countered, flustered by Jace’s reaction to your skepticism. His smile was cheery and heartfelt as he stared at you, and then offered his hand. “I do not think that this is a good idea.” A soft utterance emerged from under your breath.

“Trust me.” His tone softened exponentially, shifting from playful to gentle, reassuring. You hesitated before taking a hold of his hand, and Jacaerys nearly brushed his thumb across your knuckles out of sheer instinct. Whatever thoughts he had, he pushed them to the far recesses of his mind.

You trusted Jacaerys more than most, prompting you to nod as he ushered you closer to Vermax. His grasp was tender, as to not frighten you, which only made your heart flutter with affection. The dragon bristled and made a series of noises, some more serpentine than others.

Vermax lowered his head, pushing closer towards his rider as the dragon bowed to Jacaerys. You were close enough to feel the waves of heat wafting from his breath, close enough to outstretch your arm and feel his scales beneath your palm.

The scent of brimstone and dragonscale lingered upon Vermax, like a crackling fire and smoke. You watched with bated breath as Jace’s palm moved to Vermax’s snout, digits tracing along the olive-hued scales, and down toward his jaw. “Sagon iēdrosa,” Jace murmured, stepping closer to his dragon. “Sȳz.”

High Valyrian was an exquisite language, a beautiful symphony from an ancient era. Jacaerys had become proficient in such a tongue, and the way he spoke it had you mesmerized. With a gentle smile, he still held your hand, gesturing toward Vermax.

“What are you saying to him?” You inquired, losing some of your fear. It gradually waned the closer Jacaerys had inched you toward the dragon, who showed no ill will towards you at all. Instead, Vermax’s burnished hues glimmered with intrigue — you were a familiar scent, emblazoned upon Jace, but not a familiar face.

“I told him to be still for you,” Jacaerys replied, fingers flexing around your own as he carefully guided you toward Vermax’s neck, where the scales began to flare and thicken. Olive turned to emerald in some places, verdant shades clashing together. “Place your hand here.”

Your breath hitched within your throat as Jace became in close proximity to you, closer than he’d been before. His grasp was a tender one, placing your palm atop the dragon’s throat. Warmth crept along the length of your spine, filling your belly with an eruption of butterflies.

You made the mistake of glancing at Jacaerys for the briefest moment, able to spot the rosy flush of color within his visage and the gleam within his stare. As soon as you’d made contact, he happened to glance away, making a soft noise as it stirred within his throat.

Vermax chortled, the dragon’s attention fixated upon you as you brushed your fingers across his scales. Jace had dropped your hand, realizing the sliver of space between you both as he stepped aside, content to observe you with his dragon.

It was your enchanting laughter that lifted his spirits, the gentle way in which you stroked across Vermax’s neck and shoulder. “He is beautiful,” You hummed, countenance bright with a joyous radiance as you looked at Jacaerys once more. The gap between you had grown, much to your dismay. “How do you say that in High Valyrian?”

Jace hesitated, lips parting just slightly. His heart nearly skipped a beat when you smiled at him, expectant and awaiting his answer. He became so easily distracted in your presence, and it was somewhat vexing to behold. “Gevie,” He replied, briefly clearing his throat. “Gevie means beautiful, in High Valyrian.”

With a soft hum, you looked to Vermax, your grin toothy and amused. “Gevie, Vermax.” You spoke clearly, but the dragon did not seem to understand what you said — it wasn’t a command. Instead, he let out a series of reptilian noises, nostrils flaring with snort, almost like that of a horse.

Vermax’s lack of reaction made you frown, but Jacaerys appeared amused by it, at least. “Gevie isn’t a command,” He mused, head canting to one side. “Your High Valyrian needs improvement.” His tone was jocular, teasing — it made your heart stir within your chest.

“Fortunately, I have the perfect teacher standing before me.” You countered with a giggle, noticing the way in which a shade of pink settled into his features. Jacaerys was beautiful and handsome, but his flustered behavior only made him more perfect to you.

The dragon shook its head, seeking the embrace of his rider before he began to take flight. A massive gust of wind from the flap of his wings nearly knocked you down, causing you to crouch and grip the stone of the ramparts.

Jacaerys smiled, watching as Vermax ascended, taking to the skies above Dragonstone once more. You watched with a semblance of awe, slowly rising to your feet as the dragon became a mere specter amidst the cloudless sky. He did not stray too far, circling around with the likes of Moondancer and Syrax.

“Someday, I will take you flying with me,” Jace suggested, nose wrinkling slightly at your bewildered expression. “I would keep you safe.” He reassured you before words could emerge from your mouth, his chuckle amicable as he led you back toward the gates of Dragonstone.

“I trust you, but flying?” To see the world from such great heights sounded wonderful, but you feared the fall — and you feared the unknown of it all even more. “That might take more convincing than this did.” You mused, walking alongside him as the gates became closer.

A huff escaped him, hand dropping from the pommel of his shortsword to his side, a symbol of letting his guard down. A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, occasionally accompanied by a brief bout of laughter or tender smiles.

As the gates loomed over the both of you, Jacaerys hesitated, deliberating on what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say to you — where did he begin? The nerves of first affection grabbed hold of him, but he remained resistant, wanting nothing more than to tell you how much you meant to him.

“Perhaps an exchange is in-order,” Jacaerys began, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “You come flying with me, and I will teach you High Valyrian.” He mused, smothering his grin at your expression. You were clearly wary and unimpressed.

“Danger for something that I could learn in the comfort of a book? I think not, your Grace.” With a grin of your own, Jace happened to snicker, his visage invoking an unspoken challenge, albeit playful. “If I am ever feeling bold and spontaneous, I will inform you as soon as possible.”

Jacaerys hummed, head ducking for just a moment before he met your gaze again, doting and overflowing with a subtle warmth. “Thank you for this,” He began, tone heartfelt and genuine. “I would not know what to do if it weren’t for your company and comfort. I’ve found it difficult to remain jovial as of late, but it’s rather effortless in your presence.”

His genial compliments made your stomach turn with excitement, and you could soar away. Jacaerys would be an excellent ruler, should he take the Iron Throne — such grace, compassion, and gallantry were true hallmarks of what would make a good King. You felt the familiar, smitten flush dance along your skin.

“Of course, Jace — you never have to ask for it,” Your fingers twisted into the silk of your gown, an outlet for your growing nerves. “You’ve no idea how much your company means to me. We will get through this together, that much I know.” With a brief nod, you felt his stare grow in intensity.

Before he could bear his heart to you on a whim, the gates opened, revealing several Targaryen bannermen and Kingsguard. It was sudden and somewhat jarring, placing the two of you back within reality — in a realm on the brink of war.

“I should return to your mother, I fear I’ve neglected my duties enough today,” You murmured, offering Jace a kindly smile before dropping to curtsy. He seemed starstruck, as if caught within the depths of his own thoughts. “Good afternoon, your Grace.”

Formalities reappeared again, much to his disdain. He loved it when you called him Jace or Jacaerys, or your Grace whenever you teased him. To hear it used in the context of nobility made him feel distant, but he understood. You possessed a strong sense of propriety.

“My Lady.” Jace replied, watching as you took your leave to rejoin the other handmaidens and guardsmen. Jacaerys cursed himself for not making the most of the moment, but he knew that he could make his own opportunity, forge it if it never came about.

He intended to do just that.

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋, with braziers dancing across the obsidian interior. Stars sparkled above a clear night sky, dragons dancing above. It was almost like something from a fairytale or a painting, mesmerizing to behold as you gazed up at the scaling ceiling of your bedchambers.

Your quarters were small and homely, befitting of your status as lady-in-waiting. Rhaenyra had ensured that your lodgings and that of your father were enough — more than suitable, really. The feathered mattress you slept upon was made for royalty, you thought.

The constant flicker of candlelight provided a source of warmth as you rolled over within your bed, blankets hauled up beneath your chin. It was too early to fall asleep, too late to do anything of substance.

A knock at your door gave you pause, brows furrowing together as you retrieved your robe, lacing it around the sheer gossamer of your nightgown. Bare feet traveled across the cold stone, until you reached the metal hoop slotted atop mahogany.

With a pull, you opened the door, surprised to find Jacaerys, who had abandoned his traditional Targaryen regalia, hands occupied with a stack of various tomes and scrolls. His mop of dark curls framed his face, and even he seemed just as bewildered as you were.

“Jacaerys,” His nightly visits were rather uncommon — in fact, this was only the second time he’d come, the first following Lucerys’s passing. You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stepping aside to allow him inside of your chambers. “Is everything alright?”

Jace placed the stack of books atop the table that sat amongst small lounge chairs, ensuring to clear his throat before he spoke. “Of course,” He replied, gesturing toward your newfound reading material. “I’ve brought you scripts to learn High Valyrian.”

You blinked, touched by such a thoughtful gesture. You smoothed your palms across your robe, stepping forward to inspect the books, many of which appeared ancient and weathered. “You didn’t have to,” You replied, head canting to one side. “Many of these seem important. Are you sure that no one will miss these?”

A brief chuckle escaped him before he shook his head. “The Maesters might, but they’ve read them a hundred times over, I’m certain of it. You will find more use.” He replied, retreating toward the threshold of your chambers. Jacaerys wanted to keep his visit brief — visiting a young woman’s quarters in the dead of night was not exactly an intelligent move.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Your inquiry held a twinge of disappointment, hoping that he would stay and converse with you, at the very least. “Jacaerys, I assure you that no one will admonish you if you stay for a few minutes longer.” The softness of your voice enticed him, and he very nearly confessed then and there.

The weight of growing sentiments felt as if they would swallow him whole if he did not speak them into fruition. With the threat of a looming war and the potential for oblivion, Jacaerys was unsure of what gave him pause. The fear of rejection, perhaps? That wasn’t it.

It took a moment for you to adjust, and when you did, you noted his own attire — a billowy tunic and dark trousers that happened to make him appear softer in the candlelight. The sharp black and crimson of his house’s colors made him intimidating and poised, but no longer.

You saw Jacaerys himself, doe-eyed and magnificent.

“I fear what will happen if I stay,” Jacaerys confessed, squaring himself with the door. If he continued to linger in your chambers without restraint or without additional eyes, he knew what would happen — he did not want to sully your honor. “I won’t.”

“Jacaerys,” You whispered, brows furrowing together to form a look of confusion and startlement. Out of concern, you stepped closer, abandoning the scripts of High Valyrian now scattered across your table. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand.”

The inner war he waged within seemed to reflect upon his countenance, as Jacaerys exhaled — it was laced with stress, a heaviness that you struggled to understand. He seemed flustered, not wanting to meet your amiable gaze. “It is best if I leave it alone.” He replied, taking a hold of your hands. “I would not tarnish your honor.”

That is what he meant.

Something boiled over inside of you, the butterflies and blossoming affection turning into a tidal wave that threatened to swallow you whole. As Jace held your hands, he seemed desperate to convey such a message — whatever he wanted, he could not have.

A brief exhale escaped you before you steeled yourself, thumbs brushing across his knuckles, over the veins of his hands. “You wouldn’t tarnish it,” You whispered, stomach churning with molten heat. “I know that you wouldn’t, Jace. I trust you the most.”

Jacaerys felt the stirring within his chest, the first inkling of arousal settling into his very bones. It was somewhat foreign — a new feeling, but exciting and exhilarating. “I would never hurt you,” He insisted, and you believed him wholeheartedly. “What I feel for you, I do not wish to feel this way with anyone else.”

If you could’ve collapsed then and there, you would’ve — you thought it would happen, with the way your knees rattled together beneath your nightgown. The beating of your heart accelerated into a violent crescendo, and then you felt the rush — the love you had for him, desire, admiration, neediness.

A tenuous silence drifted between you both, the tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. Jacaerys had inched closer without thinking, able to peer down into your eyes, swirling with affection and bewilderment. “If I told you I felt the same?” Your voice barely rose above a whisper.

Deliberately, Jacaerys released one of your hands, allowing his palm to fully envelop your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I would never difile your virtue, or take it for granted. You must tell me if this is something you want.” He insisted, jaw tightening as he anxiously awaited your answer.

You knew that he wouldn’t — Jacaerys Velaryon was the most honorable man you knew, one that would never lay a finger upon you unless you consented. You couldn’t imagine a return to friendship if you happened to reject him — you didn’t want to reject him, either.

“I do,” A shudder ran down your spine, bringing a wave of thrill and anticipation with it. “I want this — and I want you, Jacaerys, if you’ll have me.” Part of you became nervous, knowing that you had never bedded a man before, but you pushed the thought aside.

“A hundred times over.” Jace uttered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. The kiss was incredibly sweet and delicate, something brief to test the waters as the two of you began to explore uncharted territory. Your hands reached for his chest, flat atop his sternum.

Allowing the kiss to linger, you tilted your head just slightly, enough to permit a sensual progression. He kissed you so sweetly, treated you as if you were precious, something to be worshiped. When he inevitably pulled away, you felt a twinge of nervousness.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Your confession was a strenuous one, and you hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointed by your lack of experience. Most men already had a plethora by the time betrothals and first love emerged. “Is that alright?”

“Of course,” Jacaerys reassured you with a gentle squeeze, brows furrowing together with insistence. He hesitated, somewhat sheepish to admit the very same, but he knew you wouldn’t admonish him for it. “I haven’t either, if that’s alright.” He mused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

A sweet bout of laughter escaped you before you nodded several times over, unable to keep from withholding your happiness. “I suppose that this will be quite the learning experience.” You felt his thumb stroke along your jaw, his lips molding themselves to yours in another kiss.

Passion and tension began to mount, a continuous climb of affection, prepared to turn into something fiery. Jacaerys worried that he would disappoint you, or perhaps feel clumsy and awkward, but those were mere insecurities — he knew that you wouldn’t hold it against him.

One of his hands dropped, finding the pliant curve of your hip as he sank his digits into you, able to haul you closer, until there was no space left between the two of you. Kissing felt effortless with Jace, despite your inexperience — he was gentle and deliberate, ensuring that he took his time with you above all else.

Your fingers wandered from his chest to his broad shoulders, finding the curls of hair at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys exhaled, a shiver rolling down his spine as you began to gently tug at his tresses. He canted his head slightly, enough to deepen the kiss and hold you close.

It was Jace who slowly broke the kiss, but just enough to speak, warm breath fanning across your face. “May I take you to bed?” He murmured, tracing across the silky plane of your jaw. His excitement began to grow, heart hammering within his chest.

In such close quarters to one another, you noticed the faint dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose, spreading just underneath his eyes. You pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You may.” Eagerness replaced any nervousness you were experiencing, then and there.

Jacaerys found your hand, twining his digits with your own as the two of you inched toward your bed. It was plush, lined with furs and enough blankets to warm the Seven Kingdoms. He stood at the precipice of a cliff, preparing to dive headfirst — and it felt incredible.

He watched with bated breath, rapturous and enamored as your digits settled along the many ties of your outer robes. You began the sluggish process of untethering each one until the garment loosened, enough for you to shrug it aside and drape it over the chest at the foot of your bed.

Even with the veil of sheer, silky fabric, Jacaerys quietly admired your physique, shapely and beautiful in every way imaginable. “You are perfect,” Jace uttered, hands coming to settle around your hips, searching for any sign of hesitation on your end. “Beautiful.” He exhaled, feeling you coax him in for another kiss.

Through the slip of silk and gossamer, Jacaerys deftly felt his way along your body, taking his time savoring you. Every curve and dip, every little detail he committed to memory, lost within a sea of you. Your kiss became passionate, and he was more than happy to reciprocate, the intensity burning between you both.

Jace felt your fingers tease the hem of his tunic, enough to elicit a subtle gasp from him. The sensation of your flesh against his caused goosebumps to spread from where your digits brushed against his waist. He released you for a moment, long enough for him to assist you in removing his nightshirt.

A pang of admiration struck at your stomach, breath hitching within your throat. He was pretty — well-muscled for a young man, with sunkissed skin, smatterings of freckles along his shoulders. Jacaerys felt your lips press against the hollow of his throat, warmth fanning out from the simple contact.

“I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.” Jace murmured, insistent on pleasuring you above all else. He knew very little of what ensued between a woman and a man within the confines of their bedchambers outside of the simple act itself, but it was easy to imagine.

Your lips parted, heat sinking into your bones as you reached for his curled tresses, digits slipping through his soft, dark locks. “Yes”, Your voice was barely above a whisper as you coaxed him in for another kiss, one charged with arousal and desire. “I want you, Jace.”

The heady, wanton way in which you spoke his name caused him to shiver, bare chest pressed snugly against your own. Even the veil of silken fabric could not hide your supple frame from him, the peaks of your breasts soft and pliant.

His kiss was so gentle — it was charged with lust despite its tame nature, not that you minded. You felt his hands fall to your hips, melding into your curves before he began to gather the fabric within his hands. Jacaerys looked to you before continuing, and you gave him a nod to signal your approval.

Silky gossamer slowly crawled up the length of your legs as Jace gathered your gown, sliding it upward. You couldn’t fight against the onslaught of molten heat that churned violently within your stomach, shamelessly pooling between your legs.

Jacaerys hesitated, likely thinking of what to do next. He had been educated on what consummation was, the act of making an heir — but there was more to it, more of you to explore. Curiosity consumed him as he placed his palm atop the bare skin of your thigh, using the other to ease you down onto your bed.

He sat beside you, leg to leg as he continued to push your nightgown up toward your hips, skirts gathering around the middle of your thighs. “May I?” Jace’s voice seemed to grow husky with arousal, desire burning its way through his veins.

Instead, you gingerly took a hold of his hand, guiding it underneath your gown as you parted your legs enough to allow him unhindered access. He caressed you wherever he could, shuddering when you held the trail of your nightgown in one hand to push it up around your hips.

You nearly squeaked when his palm brushed along your inner thigh, lips parting with a sharp exhale. Jace moved closer, as close as he could as his mouth graced your neck, digits inching toward the slick heat between your legs. When he found it, you let out a simpering whine, reaching for his forearm.

A hushed moan escaped you as two digits trailed across your cunt, exploratory and feather-light. Your hips canted forward into the sensation, desiring more — and Jace obliged, pushing both fingers inward until they slipped past your folds.

“Jace,” You whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to pepper strings of sweet kisses along your neck, gown sagging enough to let him kiss your shoulder. “Do not stop, please.” That breathy plea exuded some power over him, and he was enthralled, prepared to do whatever you asked of him.

“Is that alright?” Jacaerys asked, digits becoming a touch more vigorous as he stroked at your slit, surprised at how wet you were. If it were a common thing, he would know what to expect in the future. His thumb grazed your clit, and you gasped.

With a soft hum of approval, you nodded, shifting your legs apart just a little more. “Y—Yes,” Absentmindedly, your fingers slipped from the taut muscle of his forearm to his hand, the one wedged underneath your gown. “I — Like this.” You instructed him to touch you how you had touched yourself.

Jacaerys watched through a half-lidded stare, beyond entranced with you. You were beautiful — so painfully ethereal that it made him want to kneel before you, a goddess made to be worshiped. You adjusted his fingers, ensuring that his thumb pressed against your clit with continuous pressure.

Despite his nonexistent experience, he was doing wonders for you — he was attentive and willing to learn your body as you saw fit. He was so handsome, lips curling into an affectionate smile before he kissed your jaw, digits continuing from where they’d left off.

Your palm fell across his thigh, nails beginning to dig themselves into the muscle there as he touched your clit, digits tracing around the rest of your cunt. The candlelight highlighted his features in such perfect detail, the illumination slight.

Reverence seeped into each action, every stroke of his fingers evoking a string of whimpers from you. He was passionate and careful, willing to learn your body better than you. He continued to caress your clit, the sensation sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.

His name became your prayer, devolving into desperate moans and whispered pleas as you rocked your hips into the sensation of his hand. “Jacaerys,” You sighed with passion, feeling the stirring within your stomach. Arousal consumed every part of you, just as it did him. “Jace.”

The dark-haired Prince let out a soft groan into the hollow of your throat, wanting you more than anything, and the hand you had perched atop his thigh did little to ease the fever. He kissed your neck again, scarlet-faced and beyond eager, whispering sweet nothings in High Valyrian against your skin.

Excitement and the heat of the moment seemed to get to you, as you used one hand to sloppily unlace the leather ties of his trousers. You wanted to touch him too, let him feel exactly how you felt — how he made you feel.

Jace shivered, not objecting, but he wanted to focus on you above all else. “What about you?” He asked, feeling his cock twitch with want. The ache he had for you was almost painful, threatening to tear him apart if he couldn’t find relief.

“Together,” You suggested, turning enough to crawl into his lap, much to his delight. Jacaerys held you steady, lips clamoring together in a messy flurry of tongue and adoration. It was the anticipation of youth — the desire and sentiments overrode everything else, made duty disappear. “You are perfect.”

His brief smile made all of your worry dissipate, fading into mere background noise. Your hands returned to the leather ties of his breeches once more, sluggishly loosening them. Jace steeled himself, a fire burning within his belly as you reached down.

A low, satisfied groan tore past his lips when your hand gently wrapped around his cock, searching his visage for any sign of discomfort. There was none — only desire, lust festering within his gaze. He resumed touching you, digits circling your clit once more.

Within your delicate grasp, his length hardened, your palm finding a careful rhythm. Your hips twitched, rolling into the sensation of his hand. It was heavenly — the way in which he handled you was gallant and gentle. Arousal continued to gather between your thighs, a new and sticky feeling.

Intermingled gasps and groans filled the air, the both of you clinging to one another. Jacaerys leaned forward, mouth seeking yours, the kiss hot and gentle. Between your careful, uncertain strokes along his length and his digits teasing your cunt, the both of you were lost within the throes of passion.

He slipped his other hand underneath your nightgown, with enough leverage to remove it, if he so desired. Jacaerys broke the kiss long enough to ask, chest heaving with heavier breaths. “May I?” He whispered, voice husky and hoarse with lust.

You nodded, maneuvering your arms over your head as your nightgown slipped to the floor, leaving you bare before Jacaerys. The saltwater breeze which fluttered through your quarters left you shivering, both from the brief chill and anticipation.

The awestruck way in which he stared at you left you hot, body feverish beneath his tempered gaze. He kissed your collarbone, eyes warm and affectionate. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He stated, nearly breathless. His heart was yours — every fiber of his being devoted itself to you.

Smitten beneath his sweetly-spoken compliments, you trailed your fingers throughout his soft curls. The other slyly descended to reach for his cock again, but Jacaerys seemed to place your hand aside. You seemed confused, head canting to one side. “Do you not like it?”

His bemused chuckle filled your chambers, amiable and as warm as a cozy hearth. “Of course I like it,” Jacaerys murmured, kissing along your jaw and neck, holding you as close as he could. “I’d like to focus on you. There’s something that I wanted to try, if you’ll allow it.”

Surprised, you seemed open to whatever he wanted to try. “Anything you want, you will have. It’s yours.” You expected him to put you on your knees or turn you on your stomach. Instead, he coaxed you down onto your back, getting you to lay down as he crawled between your parted legs.

His mouth pressed a string of affectionate kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, beginning to dip lower toward the perky swell of your breasts. You squirmed slightly, uncertain of where this would lead to. You trusted Jace to follow his own instinct.

Your back arched when his mouth graced your breast, pressing kisses all around the pliant flesh. A moan escaped you, signaling your pleasure as he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, gingerly suckling on the pebbled bud.

“Jace,” You squeaked, one hand flying to his mountain of dark curls, pushing your fingers through. He touched you in a way that evoked a sense of yearning, as if you were the only woman in the realm. His hand kneaded into your chest, a shiver coursing through him whenever you moaned his name. “Please.”

Heat simmered through him, a wave of desire that only seemed to grow in intensity, demanding to be extinguished. Your flesh tasted saccharine upon his tongue, but there was something else he wanted to taste. As he kissed your chest, he released his lips from your breast, continuing his descent.

He kissed you everywhere, reverence seeping into each brush of his mouth as he traversed your body. Jacaerys pressed his lips against your stomach, and then to your hips, palms sliding against your thighs.

A sharp exhale escaped you as he peppered a string of kisses along the inside of your thigh, showering you in little pecks of affection before he flattened himself entirely. You swallowed the lump within your throat; the sight of Jace’s face wedged in between your legs made you shiver, arousal following suit.

Everything was gentle, even the way in which his veined hands gripped the pliant flesh of your thighs to let them rest against his shoulders. He hesitated, allowing you a moment to adjust and steel yourself before he dipped forward, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt.

The singular, experimental stroke of his tongue caused you to shiver, hands curling into fists. If you could melt away into your furs, you would’ve, feeling his mouth press kisses against your core. “Jace,” You whined, attempting to hold still and cease your squirming. “Don’t stop.”

It was all the encouragement he truly needed, digits soothingly caressing along your thighs as he began to lap at your cunt, adopting a pace that was a little less sluggish. He nearly groaned when he felt your hand grasp at his curled tresses, sinking in toward the base of his skull.

In the nighttime gloom of Dragonstone, you found warmth and comfort in one another — affections intensified, and whatever bond you had before was now redefined entirely. Jacaerys loved you, he had never been more sure of himself until now, dutifully bringing about your pleasure.

A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he buried his mouth in the apex of your thighs. His tongue vigorously lapped and traced over your core, savoring your taste, committing it to memory. Bathed in moonlight, Jace appeared more ethereal than ever, the muscles flexing within his back.

With slow, eager laps of his tongue, Jacaerys made sure to savor you, letting it flick across your clit. The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.

He brought you closer, heart leaping into his throat when you began to writhe beneath him, hips tilting forward into each stroke of his mouth. “You’re perfect,” Jacaerys whispered, ensuring that you could hear it. Soft utterances of High Valyrian were etched into the flesh of your thigh. “Perfect.”

Blossoming beneath his sweet compliments, your fingers curled against his scalp, unable to lay still as Jace resumed his previous ministrations. The warmth of his tongue left you with a blistering want, stomach churning with a wave of arousal.

As he lapped at your clit again, you whimpered, moaning his name as if to keep his attention there. Jacaerys’s tender expression also bore a great deal of concentration, dark eyes flickering toward you. “There?” He uttered, hoping that you would guide him to where he needed to be.

Your head bobbed up and down against the furs, flesh beginning to glisten with the first inklings of perspiration. Everything felt feverishly hot, as if you would be turned to ash where you sat. Jacaerys was attentive and loving, following your breathy plea as he pursed his lips around the pearl of your cunt.

Jace shivered at the sounds you made, enticed by each whimper and moan, every twitch of your body. He suckled on the sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between that and greedy, vigorous laps of his tongue. He let himself be lost within bliss, arousal mounting from pleasuring you.

You reached for his hand, fingers interlocking atop the swell of your hip as he continued to lap at your aching core. He squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, buried deep within your sweet cunt, something that he wanted to have again and again.

He was at your mercy, the heir to the Iron Throne, the Prince of Dragonstone — and you hadn’t the slightest clue. Jace’s brow creased in concentration as he focused on what spots made you squirm the most, continuing to dutifully lap at your clit until your knees trembled.

“Jace,” A needy moan left you, reverberating within the obsidian confines of your chambers. Arousal rushed through you, molten heat oozing from between your thighs, a nectar as sweet as honey. “I—I think I’m close.” You groaned, unsure if it was just the throes of ecstasy or reality.

Nevertheless, you were on the verge of reaching your peak, and you didn’t want him to stop. Instead, you urged his head forward, fingers laced within his dark curls, right at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys groaned in delight, thoroughly enjoying the way you continued to coax him inward — he happily devoured every drop.

With another barrage of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you whimpered, turning malleable within Jace’s hands. He knew that you were on the verge, and so he pursed his lips around your clit once more, and that was more than enough.

His name emerged from your lips like a reverent prayer, the only name that you knew in that moment. Your release was hot, like a rush of fire that didn’t simmer immediately. The residual sensation lingered, and Jace helped you through it.

Your thighs twitched, absentmindedly attempting to clench together, but Jace held you apart, soothing you with kisses along your thighs. The blissful, contented expression that soon followed was a beautiful one — Jace was shocked to know that he could do that to you, bring you to ruin.

His gallant smile gave you pause as you studied the rosy flush within his features, the glistening sheen of your arousal upon his lips. Jacaerys seemed entirely unphased, basking in your aftermath all the same, his curls tousled and disheveled.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Your tone was sheepish, realizing how much you’d tugged at his hair. If it were you, a tender-headed maiden, you would’ve been batting his hand away. Jace’s bemused chuckle caused you to duck your head.

Jace disarmed you with a charming, doting smile and a simple look of those earthen-brown eyes of his, and shook his head. “You could never hurt me,” He replied, his attempt at gentle flirtation. “I worry more for you.” His confession was soft-spoken.

The act of consummation was not intended to be a comfortable one — for a woman, at least. Jacaerys knew to broach this with care, to make sure that you were well enough before all else. He inched forward from between your thighs, resting his head atop your stomach.

He allowed you a moment of composure, feeling your digits trace the lines of his countenance, stroke at his tresses. Jace pressed a string of kisses all around your body, wherever his lips could reach. The moment was incredibly tender, lingering with the tension of a blossoming ardor.

Through the comfortable haze of silence, you cleared your throat, staring down at Jacaerys with what only could be described at a look of complete and utter adoration. He was so kind, so noble and gentle, yet with the fervor of the dragon’s blood, a desire to do good. You felt so fortunate, even moreso when he smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“I want you, Jacaerys,” You whispered, watching as Jace began to sit up, letting your legs trap him on either side. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.” It was the hitch within his throat that made you shiver, heart hammering beneath your breast as you began to confess your feelings — it was inevitable.

Jace reveled at the sight of you, naked and glimmering within the moonlit dusk, candlelight bathing your physique in shades of flickering orange. His descent was slow as he covered you with his body, lips parting to allow a shaky exhale before he kissed your brow. “You have my heart,” He uttered, forehead resting against yours. “Everything I am, is yours.”

Your palms moved to cup either side of his face, thumbs caressing along his cheekbones before you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I am yours.” You assured, your commitment resolute before the Gods — before Jacaerys Velaryon.

It was a poignant moment, one that seemed intermingled with the seriousness of your words, yet still tinged with the youthful excitement of a first love. He kissed you, slow and amorous, full of an unrestrained affection that no longer seemed weighed-down by unspoken sentiments.

“Are you certain that this is what you want?” Jace asked, his voice a soft caress through your haze of kisses. He would not fault you if you wanted to stop now — and he would if you wished it of him. As much as he desired you, he valued your virtue above his own.

“Yes,” You replied, your palms gliding from his soft visage to the taut muscle of his shoulders, lacing your fingers around the back of his neck. “Are you certain, too? I worry that you might regret lying with me.”

Jacaerys shook his head, brows furrowing together to reflect a semblance of disbelief. He reached down to caress your cheek, making sure that you understood every word. “Nothing in the world would ever make me regret this,” He murmured. “I’ve never been more certain about anything before.”

A brief stirring of adoration fluttered within your chest, and you knew that you wanted no one else ever again. You pulled yourself off of the mattress enough to kiss him, sinking into the sweet bliss of the moment as he reciprocated. His mouth moved in-tandem with yours, eyes beginning to flutter shut.

His hands planted themselves into the feathered pillow on either side of your head, but it didn’t last long. Jacaerys leaned back, maneuvering out of the leather of his trousers, flush against you once they were removed. You were so soft, like an ocean of silk beneath him.

He felt one of your legs hitch around his hips, bodies together beneath the furs. The chill of your chambers dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your skin. You kept your hands poised against his shoulders, dancing across the smattering of freckles there as you continued to kiss him, as if each one would be your last.

The hardened swell of his cock pressed against your lower stomach, and you could feel his breath grow heavier between kisses. He was perfect — flawless, so handsome that it made you ache with want.

Jace kissed you again and again, feeling the soft peaks of your breasts brush against his chest. He adjusted his weight, shifted his hips as he pressed the head of his length against your slick cunt. He was somewhat nervous — perhaps not as much as you, but anxious enough. He made sure to be careful, feeling your legs nudge themselves apart.

A look of mutual preparedness passed between you both, between your doe-eyed gaze of anticipation and Jace’s mounting look of want, there was little room left for uncertainty. He sat up enough to position himself against your aching core, his cock splitting past your folds before it prodded at your entrance.

You steeled yourself, and Jace made sure to be slow, afraid of hurting you enough to cause true discomfort. As he tilted forward, his length filled you, sheathing himself inside of you, inch by inch. Admittedly, it wasn’t a good feeling — not initially, anyway.

A sharp exhale escaped you as he bottomed out, staying still atop you as he allowed you time to grow accustomed to him. Waves of complete and utter bliss rolled through him, his own pleasure nearly overwhelming. You were tight, maidenhead intact for the next few moments until he began to move.

“Are you alright?” Jace whispered around the shell of your ear, pressing against you once more as he reassuringly kissed along the side of your face. He felt despicable for causing you any amount of pain, but you seemed to dismiss his concern.

“I am,” You placated him with a smile, coaxing him in for a kiss. It was best if you didn’t think about it — and with time, it would feel better. Everything was awkward and clumsy, the follies of youth, but as Jace began to move, a fire began to burn within your belly. “Jace.” You sighed, keeping your leg around his hips.

A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things so quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to the act itself. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.

Bliss soon replaced discomfort, the more you allowed yourself to adjust. You shifted your legs further apart, one hand falling toward his bicep, the other remaining tangled at the nape of his neck. The sounds of your lovemaking soon filled your chambers, with your foreheads pressed together.

Your name fell from his tongue in a needy groan, and it made you shiver, body reacting with a barrage of gooseflesh along your spine. Perspiration grew upon his brow as he maintained his pace, digits curling into the furs on either side of you.

The sound of your pleasured moans made him feel better, a sign that you were no longer riddled with soreness and irritation. Jace pressed a trail of hot, messy kisses along your face, reaching to the sweet spot beneath your jaw. He kept himself anchored there, feeling your hand squeeze at his bicep.

“Jace!” You squeaked, flushed at the growing lewdness of the noises — the squelching, the passionate groans and heavy breathing. He was perfect, cock filling you in a way that left you completely satisfied. Jace felt your hand fall away from his bicep, reaching for his own, interlocked hands falling back against the cushions.

He shuddered, reveling in the way your cunt tightened around him, the sensation of your hand within his hair, hands joined at your side. Jace’s pace began to quicken, but only somewhat, enough to really feel the myriad of pleasure take hold.

You yearned for him in every way imaginable; your body ached with each movement, every thrust as he leisurely moved in and out of you. His cock pulsated with a dull throbbing, enough to fill his belly with a raging fire. He kissed you again, lips traversing wherever they saw fit, peppering every inch of your sweet skin.

Time seemed to move agonizingly slow in your presence — Jacaerys wouldn’t want it any other way. If he could capture this moment, he would’ve. Every moment was graced by a warm intimacy that sank into his very bones, his adoration for you furthered with each roll of his hips, sheathing himself inside of you.

His soft lips graced your collarbone, continuing to make love to you in the only way he knew how. It was passionate and gentle, in a way reserved for the deepest of lovers. Jace grunted when your hips involuntarily rolled upward to grind against him, lips parting as he squeezed your hand.

At last, he lifted his head, your eyes locking together. Your countenance was exceptionally beautiful, especially when painted with the shade of desire, and it had him aching with want. His jaw tensed when you brushed dark curls away from his eyes, palm lingering long enough to pull him down for a kiss.

His cock continued to hit your cunt with a tame fervor, filling you completely, testing your limits as he neared his peak. Jacaerys knew that there would be more moments like these in the future — his energy was waning, and perhaps, the unfamiliarity of it all contributed to this.

Your name spilled from his tongue, throat echoing with a soft groan as his pace became slightly erratic. It was difficult to control himself amidst chasing after his release, but he maintained what little composure he had, gritting his teeth together as he thrust into you again.

Pleasure contorted into ecstasy, becoming an unstoppable wave that was quick to take hold of him. Concentration intermingled with bliss were etched into his features, face pressing against yours, nearly breathless as you kissed him again.

With a groan, Jacaerys rocked forward again, spilling himself inside of you. In hindsight, it was both brazen and feckless, done in the heat of the moment, but he cared little of it for the time being. His cock throbbed, thrusting into you again a time or two before he stilled completely.

Heavy pants resonated between you both as you caught your breath, flush against one another in the aftermath. You pressed a kiss against Jace’s cheek, trailing your fingers throughout his hair. He was quick to kiss you, gathering his composure before he pulled himself out of you.

A rush of sticky warmth slathered the inside of your thighs, leaving behind a feeling of slight discomfort. Jace gathered a cloth for you to clean yourself with, returning to lay beside you as he rucked the furs up around your bodies. The air was colder at nightfall, injected with a saltwater mist.

“I apologize if I hurt you,” Jacaerys uttered, dark brows furrowing together as you wriggled closer, resting your head atop his bare chest. Your arm draped over him, allowing yourself to be close, a feeling that he wanted more than anything else. “It was not my intention.” He kissed the top of your head.

“You didn’t,” You replied, tracing soft patterns against his skin, angling your head up enough to kiss him. Jace cupped your jaw, leaning in to deepen the tender entanglement, lost within the bliss of your lips. “You would never hurt me.”

Jacaerys was fiercely protective over you, that much was true — even from himself. He kept an arm wrapped around you, cradling you at his side as he gazed into your eyes. He could see you, then — his beloved wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but he knew.

As the both of you settled in together, your maidenhead now lost, you couldn’t help but smile. Jacaerys had made your first experience more than anyone ever could — you hoped that it would stay that way forever. “Does your offer of teaching High Valyrian still stand?” You mused.

A huff of amusement left Jacaerys as he turned his head enough to look at you, a smile playing at either corner of his mouth. “I thought you wanted those dusty old books.” Admittedly, his offering of those damned texts is what started this in the first place — he had to be grateful.

“I knew that you would be kind enough to bring them to me,” You confessed, nose wrinkling in amusement. “An excuse to see you.” The look on Jace’s face was one of theatrical shock, and you erupted into a fit of laughter when he squeezed your hip.

“You might grow tired of me, if I am to teach you High Valyrian.” Jacaerys mused, his smile one of complete and utter warmth. Anyone would know that his love for you was obvious — there wasn’t any subtlety about it.

You shook your head, comfortably sinking against him, your upper body lounging atop him. “I could never grow tired of you, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You exhaled, exhaustion beginning to grip you. It was bound to happen eventually, given the abnormally late hour.

Jace was thankful that you weren’t looking — his face was dusted with a rather obvious layer of pink, and yet, the feeling was beyond satisfying. The two of you allowed the silence to sink through, accompanied by the sound of the encroaching tide as it broke upon the jagged rock and cliff sides surrounding Dragonstone.

“Will you stay?” You asked, hoping that he would be agreeable to it. It was a risky proposition, but Jace knew that he couldn’t leave you after this — he didn’t want to, either. No one would come clamoring about within his chambers at first light.

“Of course,” He murmured, lips twitching into a sweet smile. “Though, I should go at the first light of dawn.” Jace’s tone was one of clear disappointment, but it was best to keep suspicions low. You knew that he had duties that transcended you — he was the Prince of Dragonstone, the heir — and you were not betrothed.

A sense of understanding settled onto your features, but you still wanted him by your side — you wished that you could wake up next to him. “I hope that dawn never comes, then.” You whispered, taking his hand within yours as you pressed a kiss against his palm, knowing that there would be many more dawns to come with him at your side.

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