#princess AU

[spacedlexi]

Do you have any refs for your Violentine knight au 👉🏾👈🏾 ppl may want to draw them...

I'm ppl

WAAA 😭🥺

i did Not have any refs so this ask made me go make some but its taking slightly longer than i anticipated and i feel bad im not answering this faster im not ignoring you i promise 😭 they go through multiple costume alterations and changes but here they are at the beginning of the au at least. i updated their designs a little

stars and flowers motifs 😌 clems dress is gold embroidered around all the flowers i just got lazy

[gravegoer]

possible royal au with sevika?? her as a knight, bodyguard.. etc .. 🩷

also you are lowkey THE sevika writer ..

Royal Blood — 🜲

thank you, anon. i appreciate that ! also, i might make this a series (send in an ask if you are interested) summary: sevika might have a little crush, but it's so immoral— i mean, you're a royal !! also i dont use any physical descriptions in ANY of my stories unless specifically mentioned i have 20 asks in my inbox atm and i promise im getting to them (esp pirate ones) masterlist

Your parents hired you a guard despite your constant complaints. You didn't need a man to watch over you in place of them. It wasn't your fault they could never be home for you.

You are the princess, so you needed to be put in line, no more walking out alone at night, no more hanging out with friends at bars, etc. Your parents wanted to put a stop to it all.

When you were introduced to your bodyguard, it was a pleasant suprise that she was a woman. Sevika. She had dark scarred skin, a showcase of her past on her body, and a prosthetic metal arm that caught your eye immediately. But that didnt mean you liked having a bodyguard any more than you did before.

And as always, your parents planned to leave for weeks on "business" having Sevika watch over you in the mostly empty castle.

Although your parents ordered you not to step foot out of the castle, you needed fresh air badly. Opening the windows to let the breeze in was no longer enough to satisfy you. You felt like a rat trapped in a cage that desperately needed to escape.

It was the late hours of night when you decided that Sevika would most definitely be asleep, giving you the opening to sneak out. You didn't bother to change out of your ruffled night gown and sleep tights before stepping out into the hall. Your feet that were covered with thin fabric protested the coldness of the tile as you continued down the west wing.

It was definitely chillier than your warm room. goosebumps littered your arms before you attempted to rub them away. The moonlight cascaded in a film over your body, peeking through the many windows in the hall.

You turned, curiously, to the window, and the stars illuminated your irises. Putting your hands to the glass you peered at the garden, fireflies were swarming the flowers and fluttered around the fountain. You smile at the sight and suddenly become more enthusiastic about your trip.

Your excitement was soon interrupted by a husky (but loud) voice, "And where do you suppose you're going, princess?"

"I told you not to call me that," You frowned and turned away from the window to see Sevika approaching you with crossed arms.

Her heavy boots thudded on the tile, contrasting with your daintly socked feet. She stopped in front of you to look you up and down, "What? Were you in a rush to sneak out and didn't dress for the weather?" She teased.

You shook your head and looked away, "No, i wasn't sneaking anywhere.. I just wanted to get some air."

"Crack a window, princess." She directly ignored your previous order, "I can't let you leave until your parents return."

You scoffed at her strictness, "I just want to take a walk in my own garden. Can't you spare me that much?"

"What your parents say goes, now don't argue with me."

"This isn't your job—" You instantly start to argue, "Your job is to protect me not to control me!"

"You're wrong there," She stepped closer to you. "My job is to protect you and control you. Your parents ordered me to do so, so that's what I intend to do."

At that, you got angry, "Would you please just be lenient? All I ask is for a walk."

She ran a thick finger over the crease between her brows, and you took notice of the dark circles under her eyes.

"You can't just do whatever you want. You have responsibilities, and one of those responsibilities is to abide by the rules."

You scoffed and started back to your room before she added, "And tomorrow morning, I want you in my sight, no more funny business."

Leaving her without any confirmation, you slipped back into your room and slammed the door, throwing yourself back into bed. You grumbled to yourself about how this castle is a prison and buried your face into the pillows.

For the next hour, you were tossing and turning and eventually pacing around your room. Looking at the clock, it read: 12 AM.

Fuck you needed to get out.

Going on your second attempt to sneak out, you creaked the door open, slower than the first time. You were immediately met with a dark form standing outside your door.

Sevika.

She caught sight of you through the small crack, gaze cold, and confused. She raised an eyebrow, and you saw her eyes rake down your body before quickly darting back up.

"Again?"

"Why are you at my door," You huffed, now opening it fully as she had already caught you.

"I'm on duty," She stated bluntly.

"No, you just want to catch me leaving my room."

"That's called being on duty, Princess."

You ran a hand down your face, feeling the pieces of stray hair that stuck to your cheeks and brushing them away.

"Sevika, I can't sleep," you admitted, although reluctantly.

"I'll grab you a blanket or a cup of water?" She suggested while tilting her head.

"No, I have all of that. I just feel so alone here without my parents," You leaned against the doorframe, now being sincere with her.

She was caught off guard by your honesty and cleared her throat, "I'm sorry— I mean about the whole.. situation you're in"

The only reason you messed around outside the castle and refused to follow the rules is to forget about the emptyness of your own home. Sevika was beginning to realize this.

"Can you help me fall asleep," You stated, catching her off guard once again.

"Miss, I dont think thats appropriate"

You laughed at her instantly, pulling out the formalities when she got embarrassed. "Please, this is an order from your princess."

Her eyes widened at the tone in your voice and the way you looked at her when you pleaded for her company. Finally relenting, she swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly stepped into your room past you.

Your room was most definitely large, with a king-sized bed in the middle, covered with pillows and expensive silks. There was a large curtained window facing your bed that let some light through. She didn't even hear you shut the door behind her before you stepped past her, and ran to flop into your bed.

She eyed the way your nightgown lifted a bit when you jumped up but quickly cleared her thoughts. She stood stifly in the middle of your room before you sat up to pat the spot beside you.

It was hard not to stare at the way your skin tone contrasted the sheets while she walked up to you and sat beside you. (Moreso on the edge).

You chuckled at her nervousness of being in your room and scooted up to the top of your bed, feet behind her back.

"C'mon, get comfortable," you tapped her with your foot, "I didn't invite you in to make you guard my bedside"

She scoffed, and you moved your legs, planting your feet flat on your bed to make room for her to scoot back. She did so enough for you to be able to see the side of her face. There was a flicker of something unreadable in her expression when she looked over at you, eyeing the way you were displayed for her.

Ignoring her expression, you sat your legs in her lap and scooted down so that your butt was pressed against the side of her thigh. Your head was nuzzled comfortably in the pillows and you sighed at her warmness.

"Tell me a story."

You could see her expression, but you would like to imagine her face was flushed and embarrassed. But unbeknownst to you she was looking down at you with a smirk, knowing you couldnt see her face.

Of course, it felt wrong to have the princess splayed out on her bed in front of her, soft legs over hers and hands behind her head, but what could Sevika do, she wasnt invincible.

For a few minutes, she was caught up in a story about something that you thought was dumb. Talking about the woman she served before you, and obviously, you didn't care. You were more entranced with the way her toned thighs felt against the back of yours and the way her calloused hand brushed over your knee.

You had contemplated her attractiveness in the past but opted not to act on your desires, as she seemed very adamant about being professional. You couldn't ruin that for her.

Although tonight, she wasn't denying any of your actions.

You interrupted her story by sitting up, "Mmm, I feel tired already.. Or maybe that's the bordem."

You mumbled that last part.

"Okay, what more could I possibly do," Her grip on your knee got more intense.

You scooted forward, now sitting in her lap, "Just shut up and let me sleep."

You leaned into her.

This was a really bad idea. Sevika thought to herself, hands now hovering over you, not knowing what to do. She almost pushed you away but stopped herself upon feeling you snuggle closer into her chest.

She hoped you couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage. To add to her already racing thoughts, she couldn't even fathom how your parents would react to this.

She would be fired immediately.

Yeah.

This needs to end.

You looked up at her, wondering why you didn't feel the pressure of her hands on your body. Her face was contemplative, eyes locked into a random spot in your room.

You spoke, just above a whisper, "I need this, Sevika."

Fuck your parents.

She wrapped her arm that was closest to your knees around your body to the back of your neck, holding you to her. Her thumb brushed against your cheek comfortingly.

She didn't exactly know what it was like to be in your position, but she knew she wouldn't like it. Her metal arm was wrapped around your back, hand softly on your hip. You could almost feel the coldness through your nightgown, but you barely minded. Her face was pressed into the top of your head, inhaling your scent.

From this night on, she was no longer just your protector, but also your caretaker. She told herself she would be there for you at any moment of need.

Sevika no longer needed to suppress her feelings of want towards you, and this was all the comformation she needed that you felt the same way.

its a bit short but im having the most insane writers block right now, i have so many stories i want to complete that i end up doing none of them... whoops.. but asks are still open it might just take longer

[miryum]

Don't Pity Me, My Princess (Azriel x Reader)

With Azriel as your personal knight, it's getting harder and harder for both of you to ignore your feelings.

Warnings: whole lotta angst. Talk of children and childbirth because royalty need heirs, you know? Az doesn’t have his shadows (even though it was so hard to write him without them) but is still called Shadowsinger. Azriel's mother was abused and there's like, one sentence about it

Word Count: 5k

Azriel had lived at the palace since he was a young boy. His mother had knocked on the servant’s quarters one dark night, begging for someone to take her son. She could handle an abusive husband, but she couldn’t bear her baby boy to suffer the same fate as she did. An old maid took pity on the new mother and agreed to house, clothe, and educate the child. Just before the new mother left, she kissed Azriel’s cheek and whispered his name. “You’ll do good things, my dear. I am so sorry.”

Coincidentally, a couple months later, the Queen gave birth to an infant girl. Princess Y/n was heralded with parades and celebrations, the new heir apparent. Meanwhile, in the servant’s quarters, a baby with a thick head of black hair and small little wings was just learning how to lift his head, staring up at the maids and butlers who saved his life.

Azriel grew up preparing for the life of a knight. He remembered growing up watching the knights train as he played with his own wooden sword. He remembered beating his still-developing wings to try and see over the wooden barrier of the jousting arena. He remembered when the knights first caught sight of him, trying to hack away at a dummy. They teased him at first, but then, just like his entire life, they took pity on him. The next week, Azriel began training as a squire.

It was a long time before he earned his leathers and then his siphons, but the Shadowsinger became a name that was both respected and feared throughout the kingdom. The King sent him on missions all over the continent and Azriel always returned successful. He would fight in the jousts and consistently win. He had maidens and ladies swooning over him, but they weren’t who he yearned for.

That’s why he volunteered, almost a bit too hastily, when the King asked for extra protection over his daughter, Princess Y/n. 

Azriel’s mind was filled with you, almost every moment of every day. It couldn’t be healthy, that he was aware of, but having grown up next to you, even if from the shadows, he had forged a deep connection to you.

When he was young, he had hardly noticed the little princess completing her studies. He couldn’t remember a time when he saw her in the halls or at the training ring — which is where he most frequented. But one day, a year or two after he had turned a teen, Azriel had fought in his first joust. In any joust, it was customary for a knight to be sponsored by a lady of the court. A lady usually had a favourite knight she regularly sponsored, so Azriel’s stomach was in a pit when it was time to trot by for potential sponsorship. Who would ever cheer for the newest, youngest knight? Azriel sure could beat a village boy in combat, but he was still the smallest and scrawniest of all of the palace’s knights — if you could even call him that. He could recall his anxiety as if it was yesterday. The way the crowd was cheering, the way his horse’s hooves kicked up dirt underneath, and the way he began to sweat as he tried to sit straight. 

And then, as he passed the royal box, you stood. Azriel almost kept his horse trotting by, sure it was a mistake, but when he saw you extract your blue handkerchief, he pulled on the reins. By some fortuity or fortune, your handkerchief was the same colour as his siphon. He had just earned his first one the week prior. Through his metal visor, he stared, wide-eyed, as you reached down and tucked your handkerchief into the folds of his armour. The rest of the court was watching too, but Azriel didn’t see them. He could only focus on the way his heart sped up when you whispered, “good luck.” 

You were an utter vision. Azriel was sure that you had chosen him to be your champion because of the closeness in your ages, but your support, even if it was just a piece of cloth you had embroidered, meant the world. He hadn’t won his first joust, or his second, but you kept sponsoring him. Azriel became accustomed to stopping under the royal box and bowing to you before heading to his starting position. Sometimes, especially if it was an important event, you would have a new handkerchief for him, or even some whispered encouragement, but Azriel didn’t need those things as long as he could keep making eye contact with you. And then he started winning. He could still hear your excited screams as his javelin hit his opponent straight on, which gained Azriel the championship. It wasn’t unusual for members of the court to get invested in the jousting, but others found it humorous that you were jumping from your seat to see better. However, you were only a teenager, and they knew you would soon be able to control your emotions. 

You had not-so-patiently waited for Azriel to bring his horse back around to the royal box after doing a lap of the stadium. People had thrown flowers and kisses and Azriel had shed his helmet, his cheeks hot from both the exertion and attention. When he saw you, he bowed deeply and handed a flower that someone had thrown to him. It was a small red rose. Your gloved fingers brushed his as you took the flower. His black hair hung over his face as he ducked his head. You made a mental note to have the barber stop by the barracks. “My Princess,” he muttered, head still bowed. “Thank you for choosing me as your champion, all those months ago.”

“Well, Sir Azriel, it certainly paid off, didn’t it?” you replied, smiling down at him. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” You nodded to one of your handkerchiefs that was tucked in the chink of his armour, right above his breast. 

That was the past. And now, Azriel had the glorious opportunity to stand in front of the King and Queen, multiple siphons displayed proudly as he suggested his own name for the position of your bodyguard. Your childhood knight was retiring, something everyone thought was best as his wit, speed, and strength declined. That opened up the position. The King and Queen had called for the Shadowsinger’s opinion and he gave it, however biased he was with his feelings. “Your Majesties, I believe that the best thing for this kingdom and your daughter would be if I offered my services.” 

“And why is that, Shadowsinger? Wouldn’t you rather be sent on missions and participate in protecting our kingdom?”

“With all due respect, my King, the princess is the face of the kingdom,” Azriel said, a knee pressing against the floor of the throne room. It hurt, yes, but he could handle it if it meant sparing you the pain. “The people love her, but that also means many hate her. There are too many dangers, especially with other kingdoms threatening to encroach on our borders. I would be able to protect the princess, and you and the Queen, more efficiently if I was her personal guard.”

The two monarchs exchanged a look before the Queen nodded. “Very well, then. You’ll assume the position effective immediately. You shall accompany Princess Y/n to events and daily excursions. You’ll be briefed more extensively later this week.”

Azriel nodded and stood. He thanked the King and Queen and hurried out, trying to conceal his budding smile.

“Do you remember all the signals?” you called from your dressing room. 

Azriel was standing outside, content to just listen to your voice, but he replied, “yes, my princess.”

“And you’re wearing your dress uniform?”

“Yes, my princess.”

“Are all the other guards as well?”

“Yes, my princess.”

The door then opened and you peeked out. “And are you sick of me asking you senseless questions?” you asked, an apologetic smile on your lips.

“Never, my princess,” Azriel answered softly, eyes holding yours. “Are you almost ready?”

You ducked back into your dressing room, voice floating out again. “Almost. I believe we just need some more hairpins, yes?” Your maid responded in an affirmative and a couple minutes later, the door opened once more. There you stood in a cobalt gown that cascaded down to the floor, hair all done up, and jewellery proudly displayed on your knuckles and upon your collarbone. It didn’t escape Azriel that your dress was the same colour as his siphons.

Azriel had spent years serving under the King and Queen, honing his emotions to be the stoic force he needed to be. But, with you in front of him, he found his resolve cracking. His eyes widened and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

“Do I look that horrible, sir?” you teased.

The guard immediately shook his head. “No, my princess. Quite the opposite, in fact. You…” his jaw tensed. “Those princes and dukes will be tripping over their feet.”

As much as Azriel would love to pretend that you were his and he would be the only one accompanying you tonight, he knew that this ball was for a very specific reason, and one he did not like. Your parents needed you wed, and it couldn’t be to him.

Nobility and court members alike knew to avoid Azriel when he was watching you. You were on your fifth dance with the fifth man and Azriel made sure to walk around the dance floor as you moved, always being as close as possible.

The moment Azriel had known he was to be your new personal knight, he had created a series of hand signals for you to use covertly. He was always on the lookout for your well-being and thankfully, there had only been a few times when you had needed to use the hand signals.

Months prior, your parents had held an anniversary ball for their marriage. You were a bit younger, more naive, and Azriel had only been your personal knight for just under a year. He had loved every moment of it, but he couldn’t help but feel a budding sense of anticipatory fear as he saw you twirl around the dance floor carelessly. You had one of your younger cousins in your arms and was spinning them around to their delight. While Azriel wanted to imagine a smaller child in the stead of your cousin, perhaps one with dark hair and your eyes and little wings that replicated his own, he was more focused on the older man that was watching you.

A measly Count from further South, the man looked twice your age and three times as intoxicated. He stayed on the outskirts of the celebration, but the Shadowsinger was not one to miss something.

When the Count approached you after your dance with your cousin, Azriel didn’t intervene. He couldn’t act only on a suspicion that the Count was malicious. And he wouldn’t act without your express approval.

But then he saw you twist the ring on your pointer finger.

When Azriel had first become your bodyguard, you were unsure if you could remember all the signals he had wanted you to memorise. A deeper fear, admittedly, was that he wouldn’t be watching and then unintentionally leave you to your own devices. Azriel was determined, however, to never waive your trust. He immediately came marching in, whispering something meaningless into your ear under the guise of matters only you, the princess, could attend to, and swept you away. A dirty look was thrown to the Count and Azriel made sure never to let you near him again. In fact, the Count was barred from any and all future events.

Meanwhile, you had finished your dance with the nameless suitor and Azriel already had an arm stretched out for you. You took it gratefully, needing a respite from all the men giving you unabashed stares. “I really do hate this,” you said to him as he guided you away. “I don’t see why they’re even letting me choose my husband if he will be from this very specific pool of men. At this point, it would be easier to simply betroth me to whomever they see fit.”

“You know my feelings on that, my princess,” Azriel replied. “And I’m sure your parents feel the same. They wish for you to have some sort of semblance of choice and happiness.” Even if it is not with me, the man who would worship you.

You sighed and looked down at your feet. “I know, good sir. But it’s tiring, as I’m sure you can realise. I’d much rather be in my room, engaging in the arts or taking a nap.”

Azriel couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh, one that drew your lips up into a brilliant smile. “Yes,” he agreed. “I’m sure you would.” He paused and then looked down at you. You looked so perfect on his arm and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep you there. “Here’s a proposition: if you survive the rest of this evening, I will dance with you.”

Your eyes immediately light up and Azriel swore the stars themselves burned brighter, pledging their allegiance to you. God, you were like ambrosia in his veins and how he wished for it to keep flowing. “Really?” you gasped. Azriel had been very conservative in his dances, even though, unbeknownst to you, he would dance on forever if you asked. But whenever he held you in his arms, it was too intoxicating. Too dangerous. He was still the Shadowsinger, even if he was sworn to protect you. The hands he held you with had been the notorious cause for so much pain. The thought of telling you about his past missions… It scared him more than imaginable. Those memories were ones best kept locked away within the shadows. He didn’t want you to think of the people he’s hurt – of the suffering he had caused – when you looked at him.

So all he did was nod back, smiling the soft look only you could bring out.

The night slowly wore on, the candles flickering over the walls, bidding the departing guests farewell. And still you stayed. Even as the moonlight rose above the windows and the maids and butlers slowly began cleaning up, you stayed. Only the musicians remained as Azriel led you to the middle of the floor. There was an unspoken trust between you and the musicians, knowing they wouldn’t tell your parents (who had already gone to bed) about your singular, last dance with your knight.

Easily, you placed your hand on his shoulder and Azriel’s palm flexed on the small of your back. The way your dress swished softly was a small distraction from the thoughts swirling in Azriel’s mind. He drew your joined hands closer to his chest as he thought back to how you danced with those other men. As if you knew he needed comfort, you stepped closer to Azriel, resting your head on his chest and eyes closing with exhaustion. His arms automatically wrapped around you, holding you tightly – almost protectively – as he let his cheek rest on your hair. His eyes softened and he murmured, “tired, my princess?” 

“Over a multitude of things,” you replied. 

Azriel tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek. “A multitude of things?”

“I almost wish I didn’t have to marry,” you admitted. “It’s not as easy as it seems in the stories. I need to take alliances into consideration and the happiness of my people. Along with wealth, resources, and good blood. My feelings hardly add into the equation, even though I want them too.” You then shook your head and changed the subject, a teasing smile on your lips. “Has anyone complimented your wings before?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“No,” he responded, a bit hoarsely. “No one has.”

You hummed and shook your head. “They should.” Your eyes trailed down to your intertwined hands before giving his palm a small squeeze. His burn scars marred his skin, contractures stretching over his hands and arms and small keloids by his wrists and creeping up to his elbows. Azriel winced slightly at the pressure of your hand on his scarred skin, memories of the pain flooding back. He tried to hide it, not wanting to ruin the moment, but a flicker of discomfort crossed his features. You instantly lifted your hand slightly to give him reprieve. Azriel wished for the contact back, but he knew he was the one to blame for the lack of touch. He was the one to make you flinch away.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, trying to bring the conversation back to his wings. "You’re the first.”

“I’m privileged then,” you murmured as he spun as the music lilted. “Though it truly is a pity.”

As you spun around, Azriel's wings extended instinctively, the iridescent membranes catching the moonlight. He held you close, ensuring your balance, and for a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to revel in the beauty of his own wings. They were a part of him, and something he couldn’t imagine living without. He watched you longingly as you twirled in his arms. His eyes followed the movement of your gown as you twirl. When he had you pressed close to him once again, he replied quietly, “is it really a pity, my princess?”

“They should’ve been complimented — all of you should’ve been complimented a thousand times before now,” you corrected yourself quickly, thumb sweeping over his hand where yours was placed on top of his. “You don’t see how amazing you are because you hide behind your scars and memories. But you’re the best knight I’ve had.”

The words carved him open deeper than any blade, striking into the insecurities he held. The sincerity in your voice and the gentle touch of your thumb on his hand made something in his chest ache. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. The idea of all of him being complimented, rather than just specific parts or aspects, such as his fighting ability, was a foreign concept. He glanced down at you, eyes filled with sereness. “All of me?” he asked quietly, his voice rough.

You nodded with a caring, hopeful smile on your face. Maybe he would finally see how sensational he was.

Eventually, you came to a stop, standing in the middle of the room. The musicians finished their song and quietly packed up, leaving. Yet, you and Azriel were still in each other’s arms. Azriel continued to hold you, savoring the moment. He relished being able to hold you like this, without anyone else around. 

“Do you truly pity me?” he wondered.

You shook your head. “No,” you whispered out. “I would never be able to pity the man who devoted his life to me. I would never be able to pity the man who devotes himself to me. And I don’t think I have it in me to pity the man whom I truly care for.”

For a brief moment, he stood rigid, unused to such easy affection. Then, his wings unfurled slightly, wrapping around you both like a cocoon, shielding you from the world outside. “As I you, my princess,” he allowed himself to say, scared that if anything more were to come from his mouth, it would be a declaration of unwanted love.

“Will you ever call me anything else?” you couldn’t help but tease, looking up at him.

Azriel smiled back down at you, hazel eyes warm with love. “No, my princess.” The night was silent, but Azriel didn’t want to be. His lips parted to tell you something, but when your eyes darted down to them, he found himself asking, “have I yet praised your dress?”

“You have,” you laughed. “But it’s kind of you to do it again. I wanted to match you, you know?” You reached down and pulled your dress to the side to reveal a glittering sheen of fabric under the thick cobalt fabric.

Azriel’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Beautiful, princess,” he admired sincerely once again. “It’s an honour to have you wear my colours.” He repeated the words you had said to him all those years ago.

“I’ll always wear your colours,” you replied. “You’re my knight, after all. Ever since I was young.” Your hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck, thumb brushing against his skin and along the hair by the nape of his neck.

The Shadowsinger couldn’t contain his shiver. “Must you, my princess?” he breathed out, voice rough.

“Must I what?”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut and his head dipped down, nose brushing against your forehead. “Must you marry some duke or prince?”

It took you a while to respond and Azriel’s heart only beat faster each second that passed. “No,” you admitted quietly. “But my parents would like it. They won’t have me marry a commoner, but… I could very well marry a knight.”

“Princess…” Every part of his soul seems to be reaching out, grasping for you. His grip tightened slightly, holding you against him as if he feared you would be ripped. His hands trembled slightly as they remained on your waist. There was a vulnerability in his eyes – a desperate need for confirmation that the words you said were real. “Do not give me hope if you plan on tearing it away. It is too cruel of you.”

“So it’s true,” you muttered. “You have feelings for me?”

“I am not brave like you,” he instead said. “I’ve been your loyal knight for years, my princess. But I couldn’t bear to make myself a liability to your heart. I couldn’t do that to you. I care what others think of me, as much as I hate it. They cannot pity me, I cannot have it so.”

You shook your head sadly. “Sir, they do not feel sorry for you. No one does, especially not me. You’ve protected me for so long, you’ve more than earned your place here by my side. This isn’t some fanciful notion born of youthful indiscretion. You and I both know that. This is a mature, considered love that, hopefully, you feel too.” Your voice cracked as you continued and tears shone in your eyes. Oh, how Azriel hated to be the one to cause you such pain. “My love for you, as you are, flaws and all, is why I adore you so deeply.”

The man couldn’t bring himself to say anything. What did one say when the love of their life confessed feelings?

You couldn’t see the way he gazed down at you, almost lovingly. You stubbornly kept your cheek on his chest, trying to minimise the way your cheeks heated up. Why wasn’t he saying anything? But you were already so far in, so you couldn’t help but whisper, “you would do most anything for me, correct, good sir?”

“Within a heartbeat.”

“Do you mind if I demand something from you?” you asked.

Azriel chuckled softly at your question, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. He tilted his head curiously as his fingers traced small circles on your lower back. “What did you have in mind, my princess?” he asked, his voice low. “I'm curious now... What could possibly entice you enough to make a deal with the devil himself?” 

“Oh, the devil himself?” you repeated, shaking your head as you laughed softly. Somehow, he always managed to make you feel better, no matter the embarrassment that coursed through you. “Is that what you truly think of yourself?” You smiled up at him, not answering his question as you tried to find the courage to do so. Finally, you whispered out, “a kiss.”

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your whispered confession. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, hardly believing what he heard. He could feel his heart skip a beat, like a leaf in the wind. You looked so small in his strong arms, so hopeful. “Is that all you would ask for?” he finally managed to ask. His wings twitched a bit.

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah. That’s what I would demand.”

He stared down at you, taking in every detail of your face - the slight parting of your lips, the wide-eyed gaze, the flush creeping up your neck. He could feel the tension between you, thick and electric, like the air before a storm. His hand slid up your back, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. Gently, his fingers tangling in your hair. “Just a kiss,” he repeated, his voice a low rasp. “Nothing more?” 

“Ignorant knight,” you whispered out once, laughing.

“Is that still what you want?” he asked again desperately. His heart hammered in his chest so hard it made him dizzy. His eyes traced over your face over and over again. 

“Oh, Shadowsinger,” you muttered, shaking your head in amusement. You reached up and cupped his face in your palms. “Why won’t you kiss me?” You reached up on your tiptoes before slowly connecting your lips. 

Azriel had been struck by lightning. Every nerve ending in his body came alive, sending sparks of pleasure through him. He stood frozen for a heartbeat, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Then, with a low groan, he melted into the kiss. His hand came to cup your face tenderly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. He poured all his pent-up longing and affection into it, trying to convey without words just how much you mean to him.

From the sheer intensity of it, your knees weakened under you, but Azriel quickly wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you securely against his chest. You tilted your head and it felt like a dream. But he didn’t need to wake up because you were real. You were there, loving him fully and kissing him sweetly.

Azriel laid in bed, body and wings curled around the smaller form. His eyes blinked slowly, gazing down reverently at the infant. The baby had small wings that were almost exact to Azriel’s own. They had made the birth difficult and Azriel had been about ready to break down the door when he heard your screams. He hadn’t been allowed in the room, even though you had begged for him. Your cries had brought him to his knees and replaced the nightmares about his past missions with ones of your sobs.

Nevertheless, you had accomplished the horrible feat and Azriel had rushed into the room. He had first checked up on you, hands and anxieties flying about, kisses being placed on the skin that he could reach. Then he saw his little son, whom he now held in his arms. 

You had recuperated over the months, but it never got old to Azriel to hold his child. It never got old to hold you either. The moment he had gotten his child in his arms, so unbelievably worried about doing harm to him as he had done harm to so many others in his past, Azriel had asked for another. 

You had almost thrown him out of the room.

That first night, Azriel had held both you and child close to his bare chest, for the midwives had said that skin-to-skin contact was best. For the next few weeks, Azriel hardly put on a shirt (which you didn’t complain about), so it got normal to see the ex-knight pressing his son against his chest as he walked around the castle, as if giving the newborn a tour. The baby’s head fit perfectly in Azriel’s palm and more often than not, he would look up at his father with wide eyes that were so much like his mother’s, reaching out to grab at Azriel’s chin or wings.

The Shadowsinger had yet to be thrust into the life of King, for your parents hadn’t passed on, but for that he was grateful. It gave him more time to spend with his wife and child.

There was the creak of a floorboard and Azriel looked up to see you entering your shared bedroom. A smile instantly broke out on his face. “There’s my wife,” he murmured, reaching out with his hand that was adorned by the perfect ring. Its twin sat on your own finger. “My princess.” The words had such a sweeter connotation now.

“Husband,” you replied, having yet to get used to that word. You took his hand, and with a smile of your own, crawled into bed next to your son. “How are my two favorite Shadowsingers doing?”

“Oh, he shall not need that title,” Azriel hummed. “It’s much too dangerous for our little boy.”

“And what would you rather propose?”

Azriel gazed down at the small child, a hand ghosting over the boy’s thick patch of dark hair. “That’s for him to decide,” he finally said. “He will be able to make his own name and title and we will love him whichever path he chooses.”

After some blissful moments passed, you allowed some words to tumble from your mouth. “Are you happy, my love?”

“Of course.” He looked up at you, concerned eyes snapping away from the babe. “Why do you ask? Do you doubt my love for you?”

You shook your head, smiling. Your voice was quiet, worried about stepping over a line. But if almost two years of marriage had taught you anything about Azriel, it was that he never held secrets from you. “No, never. I just remember how, before we were wed, you were certain that everybody pitied you. I was wondering, do you still think they do?” 

“No,” your husband replied, eyes soft as he looked over at you. “Why would they? My entire world is here with me now. I hardly need anything else.”

Thank you so much for reading! This is my first ACOTAR fic so I hope I did Azriel justice. 😊 I wanna thank @pellucid-constellations for writing amazing Azriel fics and getting me into ACOTAR in the first place and just being amazing. (Also @illyrianbitch for posting today and giving me the excitement to post for Az) 😁

[anakinstwinklebunny]

hi bunny 💕 may i request bodyguard knight ani and princess? and maybe their love has to be hidden? i can imagine them being so in love and pure 🥺 and he's so gentle with her .. my heart !

PAIRING: bodyguard!anakin x princess!reader

FLUFF ❦

The library was rather quiet. Surrounded by old, almost ancient for you, books, you wandered through and through the shelves, looking for yet another inspiring lecture to read. Sunlight shined through the stained glass windows, painting the marble floors in hues of gold and rose. You could see dust particles float lazily in the air, catching the light, adding to the whole aura of this place.

Yet in all of that, Anakin sees only you. You - sitting by the window, while the soft fabric of your gown spilled over the seat, head tilted slightly as you lost yourself to a novel, lips parted just enough to leave him aching to touch them

And God help him, he can’t look away.

But, he shouldn’t do that. After all, he's supposed to be watching the door, guarding your life with his own, and not staring at you like a starved for touch man. Like he never felt a woman's touch before.. Yet it’s hard to remember that when you smile, with your eyes lighting up at something you’ve read, fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the page or the leather, old cover.

His lips parted, sinking in your eternal beauty as his heart stuttered, then beat faster, harder, painfully so even. He knows you shouldn’t be his to love. His devotion, his angel. You shouldn't even be called his at all.

“Ani?”

Your voice was soft, hesitant, like a sunlight in the spring's heat, like a warm shiver of wind's touch. He straightened immediately, clearing his throat, the hand resting on the hilt of his sword twitching with nerves.

“Yes, Princess?”

You looked at him, and what he could name, you tried to study his expression, your brows drawn together, concern swimming and pooling in your eyes. “You’re so far away,” you murmured. “Is something wrong?”

Only that I can’t touch you ~ he thought

He shook his head, offering a small smile. “Just keeping a watch,” he said, voice even, careful. Emotionless, so he'd not be so ready to be read. But his answer didn’t seem to soothe you. If anything, your frown only deepened.

“You’re not usually this quiet,” you noted, tilting your head with a soft smile that was enough to make him want to kneel at your feet.

His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, leather creaking beneath his gloves. It was the only thing that could distract him - fingers flexing, curling, gripping tight enough to hurt a normal person, but not really him. Anything to keep him from reaching for you, from brushing his fingers along the silk of your gown, from cupping your cheek, tilting your head up and—

“Perhaps I’ve nothing of worth to say,”

Your lips quirked, a delicate twist that made his mouth go dry. “I doubt that,” you teased lightly

Anakin cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away, eyes fixing on the floor instead. It was safer—he couldn’t betray himself if he wasn’t looking at you.

But he should have known better already. You never made it easy.

You rose from your seat, the scent of lavender and honey wrapping around his throat, squeezing just right to make his mind go off. His jaw clenched when he felt the barest brush of your fingers against his gloved hand—light, tentative, completely forbidden.

“Ani, you’ve been… different, lately,” you confessed, eyes searching his face. “Distant.”

“I’ve been trying to do my duty, Princess,” he replied stiffly, yet his voice faltered when your fingers slipped down, brushing against his wrist.

Gods above, he was a weak man.

“Your duty,” you echoed, voice small. “And what is your duty, Anakin?”

“To protect you,” he bit out, almost too harsh, jaw clenching when your eyes flinched. Damn it.

To love you.

To worship you.

To fall to his knees for you if you so much as asked.

Your eyes were too bright, too hopeful, too beautiful, like the rest of you, and he couldn’t lie to you. Not when you were close enough for him to see the faint freckles dusting your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath.

Not when your fingers were curling around his wrist—soft, kind of trembling. Your lips parted, eyes flickering with hurt that made his chest splinter, crack. He couldn't bear it anymore, really. With a slow sigh that fell from his swollen lips, he leaned in, daring himself to connect himself, in a way, with you. Light brush of your mouth against him made him spiral, his other hand so gently, so worshipfully grabbed your waist, curling into the thick material of your dress.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake

[nightfaeses]

as you wish, countess

[freakbabyy]

soft universe - Eris Vanserra x Princess!Reader Prologue

< previous part | prologue | chapter one >

Welcome to my Eris one-shot that was too long for one fic :) this was made while listening to Aurora - Soft Universe. I'll probably name each chapter off of one of her songs on the album!

-----

Story preview: Y/N Erling - youngest descendent to the King of Vallahan, not special, youngest of seven girls and four boys, and certainly not next in line to the throne. A kind soul, free-natured, always does what's asked. Content with spending the rest of her fae life taking care of her nieces and nephews while her elder siblings dealt with court dealings. That was until they drew up an agreement - her hand in exchange for their agreement to the treaty with Prythian. Enter Eris Vanserra - new high lord who did not want a wife, nor a mate. Can they work it out together - under pressure from a blood rite, a language barrier, a culture barrier, and Eris' unfortunate attempts at flirting.

-----

Prologue: Soft Universe

Third Person

Eris Vanserra was a well-mannered, attractive, strong, charismatic and intelligent fae. However, he was also a stubborn, aggressive, picky, vulgar, and romantically unavailable high lord. Every subject of Prythian knew this, including the number of hands he was offered over the years as a prince; hands he’s always turned down even when his father, Beron, was alive. When he had killed his father, he knew he would have to marry eventually – if not for himself but for his duty. All his advisors talked about were of his affairs with other courts, which would be the most beneficial to marry Eris off to? Eris tended to doze off during those meetings. 

After only a few months of him being high lord, his first high lord meeting took place. He of course brought his second and third in commands, Garreth and Marcus – his eldest brothers. Garreth had a family already, having started before Beron had died and just welcomed a small babe named Isobel; Whereas Marcus was like Eris – unsure of what he had wanted, or rather who. This meeting was a way of getting out of Autumn and not thinking or being nagged about a wife for once. 

Eris’ POV 

“Rhysand, what of the continent?” The golden skinned male had questioned, “I heard from a little birdie that we were finally getting somewhere.” 

“I’d say your little birdie was correct, Helion.” The high lord of night turned to his cousin, “Morrigan here, oversees Vallahan, Azriel of Rask and Monterese. Lucien and Vassa of Scythia.” 

Three of the four mentioned by Rhysand had stood up from their seats, walking to the wall where the board was of who was in favor of a new treaty still and who wasn’t. Being decades from when they started, thankfully it seemed they were more willing to negotiate since last war. The Shadowsinger moved Monterese over to those who agree, and the golden eyed fox also moved Scythia. The Morrigan moved Vallahan to the middle. Azriel spoke first. 

“Monterese is onboard finally after more trade routes popped up, but Rask is still on the edge. They’re likely to agree if Vallahan agreed – it being it’s strongest ally.” 

“Scythia is in the same boat, literally, agreeing with the trade routes opening. Vassa stayed there to help rebuild, still. It’s looking good.” Lucien and Azriel sat back down, leaving Morrigan. 

“Vallahan agreed to the treaty on a few... conditions. I couldn’t agree without bringing it up to everyone first. A certain individual.” She took a breath, adjusting her stance before looking at everyone. 

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Kallias questioned, his wife, new high lady, slapped him on the arm at his observation. 

“Vallahan gave us an ultimatum. We can either offer Vallahan more territory here, in the form of a small cut of land from each court for their own courts-” A lot of protests rang out, 

“A small cut of land?!” 

“That is ridiculous!” 

“It’s bullshit.” 

“I agree with Tamlin, for once.” I spoke up as well, “What’s the alternative, Morrigan?” 

“Funny you should ask, actually.” Cassian spoke up for once, illyrian brute he is, and I turned fully to them. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“Their other alternative was to marry off the youngest daughter of the king – to a high lord – in a form of blood rite meaning the union could never be undone or else death to them and to their bloodlines.” 

Silence rang throughout the room; everyone knew there was only one true answer to what they could do. Only one of us were single, not betrothed – even complaining about the fact my advisors were on me about it. One outcome for this, and the king of Vallahan knew it as well as everyone in this room. 

“You know, I came here to forget about the fact my advisors are trying to marry me off like the most prized cow on the farm,” I spoke, clearing my throat, Rhysand speaking up, 

“You can say no, Eris.” A few murmurs went through the room, and I let out a scoff, 

“You can’t be serious. Either I marry some girl, or we all must cleave part of our courts out – or even prepare for war again.” 

“Unfortunately, he has a point.” Tamlin spoke out again, his own betrothed giving him a glare that would send him to his grave. 

“We are not taking away Eris’ right to if he marries or not. No matter how barbaric the alternative is.” Feyre spoke for the first time, “We will not take away his consent.” 

“My consent? Does she consent? Does she even know? Her entire life would be uprooted here.” 

“She does,” Morrigan chimed, almost happily. “She happily agreed, knowing she would have to move continents, face a language barrier, and be in – considered by them – enemy territory. I made sure she knew she had a choice, and she chose to do this for her family.” 

“Language barrier? They don’t speak modern fae?” 

“No, they speak Valhallian – a completely different language with their own symbols and characters. Morrigan took fifteen years to hold a conversation with them – I took twenty.” Rhysand clarified, digging through some papers before pulling out a signed letter it seemed, and set it down onto the table. 

“This looks like scribbles,” Kallias noted, his wife once again hitting him, “How can anyone read this?” 

“It basically is scribbles, the loops intentional. When they created the language, they made it so highly skilled spymasters couldn’t crack it – and eventually it became their main language. It sounds like gibberish, because it is. On purpose.” Morrigan sighed, “And our language looks like this to them, she doesn’t understand a lick of it.” 

“Languages aside, when would this happen? My court is still in shambles – it'll take a year minimum for it to be ready for anything major to happen. I have riots from Beron loyalists everyday.” I carded my hand through my hair, letting myself mess it up this once. “I can’t take her in until the threat of her safety is significantly lowered.” 

“We’ll house her,” Feyre confirmed, “We figured all of this out. We can house her at Night – you can visit her there so you know she’s safe – or you can take her to visit autumn when you visit. We have plenty of space for her, Rhys and Mor already know a bit of her language; it would all be taken care of until you’re ready.” 

I took in another breath of air, Thesan’s room suddenly feeling suffocating. Calculating the odds, I knew the entire of Prythian relied on me, those in this room begging me in their heads to take the deal – the lesser of two evils. Why not two birds with one stone after all? Fix the situation of the treaty while quieting my advisors? 

“Tell them I accept.” 

-----

let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

[yerimacoustic]

𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚🤍𝙟𝙤𝙨𝙝𝙪𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

↳ ❝ 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 ❞

summary: after the princess falls mysteriously ill, joshua, born with powers no one else in the palace knows about, becomes her caretaker.

content warnings: joshua x female reader, fantasy/regency au, steward/secret sorcerer!joshua x princess!reader, friends to lovers, deep conversations, yearning, mentions of illness, cursing, reader’s family has a lot of lore, secrets, more tags to come! joshua and reader are both in their early twenties btw

notes: this is a teaser for an upcoming joshua fic! full fic is here please interact if you like it!

lavish parties were a common occurrence at the palace, and birthdays were no exception. although your own birthday had been celebrated a handful of times, you still never quite got used to all of the attention. to the spotlight. and now that you were finally of marrying age, there was an added pressure, as potential suitors most likely filled the audience. 

after what felt like hours of dancing, polite conversing and forcing smiles, your mother had pulled you aside. after explaining that she wanted to present your gift in private, she eagerly watched you untie the tiny pink ribbon encircling the red box that fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. a gold, heart shaped locket lay inside, shining in the candlelight despite being an ancient heirloom. 

the necklace had been passed down from generation to generation for centuries. your mother felt there was no need to explain the sentimental value the necklace held, instead stating that she had been eagerly awaiting this day since the moment you were born. suddenly, you felt silly wondering if she was pulling you aside to offer some comforting words of assurance. 

no pressure. 

actually, once the thin chain found its way around your neck, it felt as if it bore an actual weight on your shoulders. after all, you knew fully well what it symbolized- as the eldest daughter, you would be taking the throne one day. and as you began to take another turn around the dance floor, you came to the stunning realization that this was no ordinary birthday party.

you weren’t exactly sure if your corset was too tight or if a mysterious figure was suddenly sucking all the air out of the room- either way, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. once you felt that enough backs were turned on you, you shuffled towards the nearest french doors. once they were closed behind you and you were met with the bitter winter air, you let out a prolonged sigh. 

with your palms resting flat on the ledge you looked up to the stars, finding comfort in the way they seemed to shine so brightly that night in particular. you quickly became fixated on the patterns and puzzles in the sky, wishing that you could pluck them off of the dark blanket like small diamonds. music gently began to ring through the air as the doors behind you carefully swung open and closed in a brisk motion. even so, you didn’t bother to look back and greet your visitor. 

you were expecting the visitor to be one of your family members, maybe even your lady’s maid. holding back a sigh, you closed your eyes and spoke in a delicate tone, “i’ll be back inside in a moment.”

“no pressure,” a familiar voice behind you spoke. your eyes went wide upon hearing the man’s silky cadence and you, of course, were pleasantly surprised that it was probably the last person you expected to visit you.

you turned around to see joshua standing close to the two doors, as if he was awaiting your permission to come closer. he was quick to bow politely once your eyes were locked, earning a gentle scoff from you, “please- there’s no need for formalities. we’re not in public.”

he took a quick look behind him, reaffirming that there still were, in fact, lacy curtains covering the barred windows on the doors. a sheepish smile that seemed to light up the air between you two was sent in your direction before he stepped carefully towards you. “forgive me for disturbing you- but i wanted to ask if.. the princess was doing alright?”

you chuckled upon hearing his gentle tone and watching him approach you in the same timid manner. “well- the princess is doing as well as expected, under the circumstances. let’s just put it at that.”

this time it was the young steward’s turn to chuckle, mirroring your position and resting both hands on the balcony’s ledge. “the majority of the guests may not have noticed your strained expressions, princess, but i did.” he paused, looking over to you with a smile that instantly warmed your heart with reassurance. “if you ever need someone to talk to-”

“thank you.” gently cutting him off, you moved your hand to rest on top of his. an already shuddered breath caught in your throat once your eyes met again and a heated blush scattered across his cheeks. a similar warmth grew within your own cheekbones, prompting you to raise your free hand upwards to let your fingertips graze the area.

“you’re welcome,” he whispered to you, unable to break away from your gaze for even a moment. never in his wildest dreams did he expect to share a moment like this with you, the princess, someone he had stolen secret glances at in crowded ballrooms and halls for as long as he could remember. 

the two of you were both raised in the palace, after all. so close yet so far- until now.

and yet, he didn’t dare to move another inch. even if his free hand was aching to brush delicately through your curls, or along the curve of your jawline.. “princess..?”

“yes?” you asked with a slight strain in your tone. after all, you unknowingly held a similar line of thinking as joshua’s. you always considered the steward to be a handsome man, but never knew the great details of his beauty until that moment, as you stood closer to him than you ever had before. 

he had been wrestling with the dilemma of what to tell you since he’d plucked up the courage to walk through those doors. that much was evident by the way he quietly cleared his throat, pausing abruptly before speaking again, “i.. just want you to know that everything’s going to be alright. you’re going to be a wonderful leader someday.”

you weren’t sure what you were expecting (or hoping) him to say, but his beautiful words provided you with much needed reassurance. suddenly.. the prospects of becoming queen didn’t seem so daunting, now knowing that he would be there to support you. 

“you’re so.. sweet,” you thought out loud shamelessly. 

“you sound surprised,” his smile widened as he let out a gentle laugh. 

“no, not surprised- just-” you bowed your head and chuckled sheepishly. “i suppose i should have taken more time to get to know you. we did technically grow up together, after all.”

“well..better late than never.” the young man’s attention averted towards your intertwined hands on the ledge, his smile growing fainter. as if he was stuck in quiet contemplation. suddenly, snowflakes began to gently fall. it was beautiful, picturesque, the way they fell and gently twinkled in the starlight.

joshua couldn’t help but laugh as he watched some of the powdery snowflakes attach to your hair, finally leaning in to the prompting to brush through the silky strands. “don’t want your hair getting too wet,” he chuckled sweetly. 

“of course not,” you giggled quietly in return and stepped closer, allowing him to brush his fingers through your locks in an attempt to rid the small crystals. his gentle movements continued until your hair was pushed behind your shoulder, exposing a part of your collarbone to the cold. “joshua, i-”  

“y/n!” your brother swung the doors open, prompting the two of you to take a step backwards and unlace your hands. jeonghan’s gaze shifted between both of you, the guilty parties, as he folded his arms across his chest. but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that reassured you he wouldn’t tell your secret. 

“what is it?” you groaned, annoyed that a wonderful moment was interrupted by your brother, of all people.

“mother and father are wondering where you’ve been, of course,” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “they sent me to look for you. i suggest you get a move on before they start looking, themselves.”

you made no attempt to disguise your annoyance, rolling your eyes before brushing through your hair once more for good measure. “i suppose you’re right.” 

before too long, jeonghan had made his way back inside the ballroom, slamming the door shut behind him in a quick attempt to reunite with his dancing partner. you stole one more glance at the burgundy-haired man standing at the ledge after crossing to the french doors, smiling gently to him, “thank you again.”   

“i’ll be seeing you again soon.” he watched carefully as you stepped back into the ballroom, focusing on your figure until the lace in the window clouded his vision. a confused sigh escaped his parted lips, and just as he looked up at the sky, the snowflakes stopped falling. for unbeknownst to you, there was more to this young steward than met the eye.

[megalomaniacz]

ENTANGLED IN YOU— WHEN WILL MY LIFE BEGIN?

ways to help, daily click, do not support neil

ellie williams x reader

a/n: this actually isn’t the best but i’ll post it now and edit it later :D let me know what you think

tags: @astralnymphh

masterlist

…

once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived a castle…

okay maybe it was an abandoned apartment complex, and maybe she wasn’t a princess, but that isn’t the point of our story. our story focuses on how fate is inescapable.

“flower! let me up.” the doctor calls. you look outside of your broken bedroom window and quickly rush to the main room where there is a lever. you then, twist it with all your might. this triggers a series of reactions going downward which opens a space in the wall for the doctor to walk up.

this was a daily routine. doctor would go out and forage for supplies and food while you tidied up your “tower” as you called it. it wasn’t much but it was home and helped protect you from the outside world.

many years ago an outbreak occurred causing a sickness in the people of the world. doctor says it was terrifying to see. disfigured faces as a parasitic virus took over their minds.

but you were special.

you were born a few years later in a hospital doctor had been working in at the time. your mother had been seeing doctor for months and she was finally ready to deliver you. then suddenly, there was a break in. the infected monsters stormed through and bit your mother as you were being born. in a panic, doctor wrapped you up, ran as fast as she could until she found this abandoned building, and promised to always keep you safe.

she waited to see if the affects of the bite were passed onto you, and gratefully reveled in the fact that they did not. she still continued to watch you carefully. just in case. then, one day while cleaning up, she turned her head for a moment and you’d been scratched by an infected that had found its way inside the building.

you wailed and so did she before she realized that you were not turning. days began to pass and you still hadn’t turned. you were completely fine other than a small scratch on the back of your neck.

doctor rapidly got to work. after running various tests she used your blood to create a cure. it’s temporary against the infection, but it helps keep it from doing extensive damage. it gave those who were previously hopeless a reason to be hopeful.

she was excited about the results and prepared to share them with the world.

once she’d gotten in touch with the others in her field, they said in order to make a viable cure for everyone you would have to die, which she did not agree with.

so she rushed back to the tower, closed the doors, and swore to never let you leave out of fear that others would hurt you. even after you’d grown older. even after a cure had been fashioned years later from a mystery flower. even after the apocalypse had been declared over and it was semi safe to leave again. you would never leave. and she was confident that you’d never try to, until…

“are you excited for you birthday tomorrow, flower?” doctor asks as she walks into the lounge area. you were sat in the corner knitting a scarf out of yarn you’d fashioned from leaves. “i am actually. i’m more excited about the possibility of-“

“leaving to see the festival?” she finishes your sentence. you huff. “doctor, please. i look outside of my window and i see people laughing and lights shining just down the mountain. i know that a settlement is out there. have you still not checked it out?”

“no i haven’t checked it out and i’m not going to. i told you it’s probably fires started to control a large population of infected.” her tone is stern. she has checked already, it is a settlement.

you slump down in a chair next to her, hands clasped together. bottom lip sticking out. “please. please! atleast promise you’ll check on your next trip.”

she looks over at your face and smiles. “fine. we’re running out of supplies anyway. i’ll check on my trip tommorow, would that make you happy?”

“very.” you respond, smiling.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

a loud clanking is heard from underneath the tower followed by a string of curses. “doctor?” you call out. your heart begins to race. what if she’s hurt again and she needs help? or more of the cure? you quickly turn the knob and listen as her footsteps get closer.

then you hear her speak and it is definitely not doctor. you hide behind the entrance, a frying pan in hand as it was the closest thing to you. you watch as the woman steps up and looks around. breathing heavily with dirt all over her. before she can turn around, you knock her hard on her head.

[alialastor]

Fanart for @chrispywhispy 's princess AU!! I read all the parts and I really want Shadow to feed Sonic, so I drew it. If the creator of the AU is here, I hope you like it.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Royalty Clad In Silver Armor Chapter 1: Silver Threads and Sworn Oaths✨

Knight! Joel Miller x Princess! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ahh! This has been a long time coming. I had a sudden wave of inspiration and decided on an OFC for this, so I’m really excited to finally get some traction on the story. I hope you will love it like I do! Super nostalgic write for me 👑 If you’d like updates, please follow my notifications blog @mermaidgirl30-updates

Chapter Summary: Princess Lily finds out that her old knight is getting replaced with someone new. But she never expected her new protector to make her feel like her world just got tilted off its axis.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: Yearning, pining, feelings, new introductions, age gap (Lily is 25, Joel is 40), Princess x Knight pairing, Lily is Princess of Ireland

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

 The countryside of Ireland slips into my peripheral view as I sit in front of the lavish mirrors of my rose-colored armoire. The glittering gold crown sitting atop my head reflects in the clear glass; my glossy pink lips and shiny eyeshadow dazzling against my bright green irises. I inhale deeply, drinking in the lush smell of clover and wildflowers that carry through my open balcony and brush through my long, strawberry blonde curls that lay smoothly against my shoulders. 

  My bedroom suite is filled with natural light that shines brightly over the marble flooring, making shadows dance against the pristine walls bathed in intricate, hand-painted flowers of every sort, fading into the silk tapestries that bleed the colors of cream and light pink. Rich jewel tones and luxurious fabrics fill the room, and my king-sized bed is draped in mesh hangings with silky sheets that feel like a bed of fresh roses. 

   My favorite place of all though is my open balcony. The one that overlooks the ocean and the never ending shades of green that cover the land. I love the scent of the saltwater, the wildflowers, the grass clippings that smell like fresh dew every morning. It’s just so peaceful. On my balcony, I can be someone else who’s not trying to impress the people of this land. I can just be me—the girl without a title, a princess that has no duties. I’m just another part of this beautiful land up here. Just another flower in the wind that carries me over the waves of the ocean.

   Home. I love Ireland, love how deep green and vibrant it always is. One of my favorite colors, my royal color that paints my closets in jewels and expensive gowns. Ones I wear on special occasions to display my pride and joy for my country. But mostly, I have to wear them because I’m royalty, a princess, the future queen of this land, and it’s my duty to make my parents proud. 

   I will be queen one day, but wait. There’s that sinking feeling humming in the pit of my stomach again. A sign that brings nausea rolling to the surface. I’m not sure if I’m quite ready to take on that role just yet. I’m only twenty-five, which is too old to still be searching for a husband, as my parents say. But I want to find love, not just a warm body that might smile at me a few times and give me a child. I want to be in love, but those dreams are far and few. That’s what daydreaming is for. My father and mother were in an arranged marriage, but they slowly fell in love after some time together.  

   But me? I’d like to fall in love like all the romance books I read. Slowly, achingly, until the yearning consumes me into flames. That’s how I want to fall. I shake my loose curls, sighing as I stare into the distance, letting the blue waves of the coast ground me back to reality. 

   I’m a princess, and the duty I have is whatever my parents deem next, which is marriage. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t royalty at all…

   Just as I start to drift toward the balcony to get lost in the glow of the morning, my lady-in-waiting, Serena, comes barging through my double doors. “Princess, your father wants to see you in the main hall,” she says meekly, curtsying when she enters.

   “Must I go now?” I sigh. “I was just about to take my tea outside.”

   Serena smiles and waves toward the large doors. “He was pretty adamant about coming quickly. Said it was urgent.”

   Urgent? What could ever be so urgent that he’d interrupt my morning routine?

   “Oh, alright. Guess my tea and daydreaming will have to wait until later. Thank you, Serena.” She bows and leaves me alone to look once more into one of the lavish mirrors with gold stardusted along the edges as the sunlight kisses the gold pieces. 

   I fix my crown once more and turn around twice, making sure my royal dress is spotless and perfect for my grand entrance into the main hall. I don’t know what this is about, but it has to be important if they’re interrupting my morning rituals unannounced. What could be so bloody important that I have to rush off? Guess I’ll find out.

   Wrapping my hand carefully around the golden handle, I turn and step out into the winding shadows. I gasp when I see another knight in place of Christopher, my usual knight, or should I say bodyguard. “Oh, Sir James! I wasn’t expecting you.”

   “Sorry, My Lady. Was an unexpected rotation this morning.” He bows and lets his sharpened sword fall deeper into the sheath at his left side.

   “Where is Sir Christopher?” I ask with my eyebrows raised high.

   “His wife fell ill, I’m afraid. Can’t say how long he’ll be taking care of her, but that’s why I’m standing in his place today.” He shifts his weight and lets the silver armor clatter with every step he takes.

   “Oh, how dreadful. I’ll have to take them some flowers this week. Are you to be my new protector?” I smile and curtsey playfully. James can’t keep a straight face. He lets out a bellowing chuckle, and I giggle in response.

   “No, unfortunately not, My Lady. I’m just here in the meantime. The king put me here this morning, but he mentioned something about another knight taking over. But for now, I am at your service.” He bows cordially and smiles, his bright blue eyes crinkling with old age. “Well, off to the main hall, Princess. Your father is waiting.”

   “Alright, alright, I’m going,” I laugh as James trails after me in his suit of silver armor, his long blonde hair drawn back behind his shoulders in a ponytail as his full beard shows a hint of a smile. 

   I always saw James as a close uncle, not just a knight. He used to be the one to give me sword fighting lessons even when my father never approved. I wanted him to know I wasn't weak and fragile like a princess should be. I’m bold and brave and want to be able to take on any challenges that stand in my way. James always let me get away with things my father would never allow. He was my friend, and a friend was exactly what I needed in a castle that’s far too lonely for my liking.

   The long halls of the castle glisten with emerald green banners that sit pressed against the smooth grey stones that make up the walls of this palace. Archways that tower over me shine light through the twisting hallways,  making my light green dress shine against the silky fabric that sparkles in the sunlight. The mesh straps fall against my upper arms, leaving my sun-kissed shoulders bare as my corset style bodice clings to my chest, making my breasts nearly spill over the top. It’s not really the most comfortable dress, but it’s a beauty at best, and it makes my confidence shine every time I walk into a room with an audience. Father might not approve, but I was always a little rebellious growing up. Nothing’s changed about that.

   When I make it into the main hall and walk around the thresholds of the throne that’s plated in gold, I stop short when I notice a man. No, a knight, who’s standing in the middle of the floor with his hands clasped together. My eyes wander over his broad body, drinking in his rich brown eyes, glazing over his tousled brown locks that are streaked with silver strands. His shoulders are so broad—how does he even get his armor on? And his hands—big, thick like bear paws. But what catches me off guard the most is how soft his eyes look…

   I gulp down a breath and turn to my father when he speaks. “Lily, this is Joel Miller. He’s to be your new assigned knight.”

   My eyes flick back to him as he bows his head in service, creating butterflies in the pit of my stomach. And when he looks back up and sets his gaze on me, it feels like earthquakes thundering beneath my feet. 

   My mother, Queen Eliza O’Callaghan, gives me a quick smile, her auburn hair piled high in a bun with jewels splayed all around her strands. My father flicks his pale blue eyes at me, signaling me to take a step forward.

   Carefully, I take two steps forward, halting when my father unsheathes his sword and stops me dead in my tracks before taking a step down from the throne. “The oath needs to be taken,” my father murmurs lowly. So I step back and watch as my world slowly stills around me. 

   “Kneel,” my father commands. Joel doesn’t falter, not even hesitating when he falls to one knee, his head bowed. 

   My father puts the flat edge of the silver sword on top of Joel’s left shoulder and clears his deep throat. “Do you, Joel Miller, pledge your life to serve the crown?”

   “Yes,” he replies, his deep baritone drawl floating across the room. His accent. What is that accent? Not Irish, definitely not English. I can’t quite place it.

   “Do you swear to protect my daughter from any harm that may come her way?”

   “I swear it,” Joel confirms, his eyes flicking up to my father who’s standing in a deep green robe that reaches the threshold of the polished floor.

   “And do you promise to put her life before your own? To be completely loyal to the crown, uphold justice, and be nothing but honest to my family?”

   Joel tips his head again and nods, crossing a large arm over his heart. “I promise to serve with honor and dignity to the crown. Your daughter is safe with me.”

   Your daughter is safe with me. Something tugs in my chest at the words. Somehow, I have a feeling those words run deeper than their actual meaning.

   “Then I, King of Ireland, dub you the highest honor of my knights. You are now Lily’s one and only protector, until your days at the castle end.” He lifts the sharp-edged sword and holds it high in the air, reflecting sunlight off the thin edges. Then he sheathes it back in place, right next to his hip where a leather sword holder sits. 

   Joel stands up slowly, his brown eyes lathered in sunlight as he looks at me through hooded eyes. My throat feels dry, and it feels like I’ll fall over at any moment. Is it hot in here or is it just the way he seems to be looking at me—calm, collected, but searing flames into my eyes. 

   “Go on, Lily. Greet your knight,” my father says with a huff, my mother throwing me an encouraging smile.

   I nod and step forward, hiking my glitter green skirt above my ankles so I don’t trip climbing down the polished marble steps. My ears thrum with energy, my brain a bit fuzzy as I make my way down until I’m face to face with the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

   “Joel,” I say with a nervous smile, curtsying before him in greeting. He watches me slowly, his eyes flicking up and down my body with each movement I take, almost like he’s trying to memorize my features.

   Joel bows before me, his silver armor glistening through the massive floor to ceiling windows, sunlight sweeping over his glinting plates of steel. When he stands up, he carefully takes my hand in his and brings it slowly up to his mouth, caressing the top of my hand with a gentle skim of his plush lips. There’s no air in my lungs, no room for me to shutter out a response. My eyes are as wide as a full moon’s, my lips parted in awe as he looks up through thick eyelashes, the deep browns in his eyes swimming with onyx orbs.

   “Princess,” he says in a husky voice as he drops my hand back to my side, but his gorgeous brown eyes never leave mine. He just stares, just like I do, both lost in a glazed fog. 

   Is this what love at first sight feels like? Or is this just infatuation? I can’t tell between the two because I’ve never been in love—only ever read how it goes in my books. But this feels like the earth’s tilting on its axis, storms gathering in the distance offshore. Something catastrophic is coming, but I can’t see what. The only thing I’m remotely able to see right now is those big pools of brown gazing back at me with as much intensity as I’m giving him. 

   My father’s booming voice breaks the spell, and I’m sucked back into the real world. “I trust you’ll take good care of my daughter?” he asks in a vindictive tone, his smoky eyes honed in on Joel as if to send a clear message. He may be fair and kind to the people of this land, but I know if anyone does even one thing to upset him, he’ll bring wrath down like a lightning storm. I’ve learned that the hard way. 

   Joel nods, his mouth in a tight line. “She’ll be in good hands. You can trust me. I swear on my life.” My breath catches as he gazes over at me, nervous jostling through my bones.

   My father’s eyes soften, and he nods in approval, happy with Joel’s answer. “Follow me, then. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” 

   With one more flicker of a glance my way, he pulls on a small smile and follows after my father, down the corridor where my previous guard slept. And when he’s out of sight, I can suddenly breathe again. Letting a breath of fresh air enter my lungs, I lean against one of the stone statues and rake a hand through my light curls, gathering my wits about up. 

   Closing my eyes, I focus on deep breaths and clearing my mind, but I can’t seem to see anything but those deep brown eyes and sculpted jaw. 

   Groaning, I pull myself back up and let out a whine. This is great. I have a crush on the man that’s now my knight in shining armor. And he’s completely off-limits. Princesses can’t be involved with knights. That’s high treason. My father would have his head. 

   God. What am I going to do? I guess the only logical thing I can think of is to distract myself. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll stray anywhere he’s not and ignore his existence. But it won’t be that easy, will it? Of course it won’t. 

   I’m royally sunk. 

[mvst4far]

౨ৎ

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

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader

summary: A Jedi Knight, protecting your older sister, Padmé come visits Naboo for hiding. Little did you know, your life was never the same after. warnings: a little age gap but mostly just pure fluff for this fic. reader is freshly 18 while Anakin is 22.

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

Boys had never crossed your teenage girl mind─not one. Your head was far too stuck in books and the desire to draw and paint to ever notice any princes falling at their feet for you. With the loneliness of being the youngest child, you found peace in being alone instead of being the life of a party. Though you had your older sisters, Padmé was far too busy being a Senator in Coruscant, and Sola just never liked socializing.

But, there you stood, in the main room between your parents and eldest sister, staring up at the pleasant surprise of Padmé returning home with a handsome Jedi Knight beside her. Anakin Skywalker, was what they called him. He was quiet, respective but for sure had a smart mouth. Cocky, even.

"Oh, dear, it is so nice to see you again." Your mother broke the silence with her sickeningly wide smile plastered on her face.

Padmé's lips curved into the same smile, wide and bright. "Hello, mother. It's been awhile."

"It sure has,"

Your mother soon brought Padmé into a tight embrace before letting her go. She looked most like mother, almost a carbon copy. It was uncanny.

After warm hugs were shared, Anakin was then introduced.

"Ah, Skywalker, the Jedi." Your father gave a nod in acknowledgment, which Anakin returned.

Once Anakin greeted your father, mother and Sola, he then divided his attention to you. He was a lot taller than you─almost a whole head. Most would find it threatening, but his soft blue irises were the only thing you could focus on.

"M'lady," Anakin brought your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles as you acknowledged him with a quick courtesy.

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

The dinner table was rather quiet, the soft sounds of slurping filling the awkward silence. You sat beside your eldest sister, Sola, across from Anakin who sat next to Padmé. Your parents on each end of the table.

"So," You started, causing everyone's heads to lift. "What's it like knowing the ways of the force?"

Anakin's eyebrow cocked as you, very obviously addressed him without needing to speak his name. "It's alright," He simply replied. "Just different."

"Different how?"

He was somewhat taken aback by your interrogation, the cleverness in your words wasn't something he'd expect from an eighteen year old girl. Before he could respond your question, your father cut him off.

"Now, now, let's give Anakin some space. It's his first night here." Your father shot you warning look, causing your head to dip down and continue eating your dinner.

That was weird.

The dining room was now surrounded with silence again, the tension still heavy. Anakin's eyes were glued to you a second too long after the interaction, which your mother noticed. With a clear of her throat, her sickeningly smile tugged the corners of the mouth once again.

"Padmé, darling, what's it like being a Senator in Coruscant?" She questioned sweetly, almost a hum.

"It's fine, mother. Very, very busy for me." Padmé smiled politely, though the exhaustion was evident.

"Very well then,"

The rest of the night was quiet. You quickly finished your dinner then hurried off to your room, which was the last time anyone saw you that night.

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

The first rays of sunlight seeped through your lace curtains, stirring you awake with a soft sigh. You were always one to wake up before anyone else─an early bird for that matter. You liked to spend the peaceful morning by yourself, sometimes even cooking breakfast for your family to wake up to. But, for this morning, you spent it outside in the garden, reading your favorite book─Pride & Prejudice.

Your corset hugged tightly around your waist, the off-the-shoulder sleeves to match your cream colored ballgown. It wasn't extremely heavy, due to the less fabric added. You could move freely, enjoy the nature freely.

After collecting flowers, which could easily be transformed into a bouquet, you sat comfortably in the tall grass─leaned up against a large tree. Your tree. The tree you sat by everyday, the tree you spoke to when times got rough. The various of flowers sat in your lap against the top lace of your dress, your opened book in your hands.

The silence was comforting. Birds chirping gently which satisfied your ears like a prayer, subtle wind brushing over the tall grass and the pages flipping in a quiet rustle. Though, that silence was quickly interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching.

Anakin looked down at you with those same icy blue irises that first caught your interest. He didn't say anything for a few moments, just holding your gaze like his life depended on it.

"I see you're up early, m'lady." He finally spoke, his hands intertwined together behind his back.

"I like to get an early start to the day." You replied casually, eyes flickering back down to your book. Even though you've read Pride & Prejudice almost fifty times, you still appeared interested in it like the first time you read it.

Anakin nodded at your short response, his mind racing with other things to talk about so he didn't feel awkward. His eyebrow quirked at the sight of the book you were reading, a smile threatening to curve but he held it back.

"Classic,"

"Sorry?"

"Oh, I─uh, meant the book. Classic." He quickly corrected himself, clearing his throat.

You nodded and let a weak smile slip, "You've read this before?"

"Pride & Prejudice? Of course. Who hasn't?" Anakin scoffed, the cockiness very much evident in his already high ego.

Oh, he was just your type. Cold, cocky, mysterious and into books? Especially Pride & Prejudice? Maybe this was the one.

Or maybe, you just needed a Jedi Knight instead of a snobby prince.

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

A/N: this is quite a short fic, so i will be making another part to this or maybe even more!! feel free to suggest ideas for this mini story, if u have any 🤍

[spacedlexi]

⚔👑 princess on the run with her loyal knight 💜

[gravegoer]

i need royal blood part 2 pleasssseee UAGUHDUAHD

Royal Blood — 🜲

i personally love this AU and i hope you guys do too.. for some ODD reason i havent gotten many asks about it but here u guys go summary: sevika helps u get ready for your ball, and a little jealousy

masterlist , part 1

It had been around a week since the night Sevika basically cradled you to sleep. Unfortunately, you didn't see her around much, feeling a bit lonelier without her presence to keep you company.

It's possible she felt guilty for having her hands all over the princess, thinking it's not her place. But in reality, she was just trying her best to resist you. She kept herself busy with mundane and useless tasks, but still hovering close enough to keep an eye on you.

And your plans for her didn't make it much easier for her to hold back.

During the week that your parents were absent on a trip, they had reluctantly allowed you to host a ball. Seeing as this was the perfect way to prove to your parents that you were capable of being responsible you had to insure everything went as planned.

You had your butler customize invitations and send them to a select few noble families. Even though you would have much rather invited your average friends, ruckus had to be avoided, and your friends would most likely cause more trouble than they intend.

Now it was the morning of the big day, despite your mind being set on Sevika the whole morning you had managed to pull yourself out of bed, still in your nightgown, and go downstairs.

As always breakfast was waiting for you on the table, you internally thanked the chef as you dug into your meal, savoring the flavors. The large window in front of you showcased the front of your castle, Sevika stood outside, simply watching passerbyers as if suspecting each and every one.

You laughed to yourself at how seriously she took her job, wondering what was on her mind. You set your plate aside and strode to the double doors to take a breath of fresh air (talk to Sevika).

You emerged, and the cold stone of the stairs nipped at your bare feet. She shot you a questioning look before you spoke, “So.. the ball is today”

“I know, i'll be on guard duty.”

You scoffed at her seriousness, “Really? This is my big day, and you aren't even going to show up. You've been cold this week.”

She sighed and her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, “Apologies, is there anything you want?”

“Yes!” You groaned, “Just— can you at least help me get ready tonight?”

She cocked an eyebrow at your question, “Isn’t that what your personal maid is for?”

“Well– I need help picking something to wear, and my maid is supposed to be bias. She will like anything i do, and you’d tell me the truth right?”

Sevika nodded, giving in a bit.

“Great! I admire your honesty, truely. Join me in my quarters tonight at 6:00.”

Before she could protest you were stepping back inside all giddy. It seemed you would finally get some time to yourself with Sevika. I mean she couldn't deny an order, Right?

..

Right.

Sevika showed up to your door at exactly 6:00 PM, punctual as always. You greeted her with a smile, now changed into a different stay-at-home outfit. You had been lounging around your room for most of the day while waiting for Sevika to arrive.

The balcony door in your room was open, and there were books strewn about your bed. She shook her head at your carelessness and walked over to the balcony, pulling the door shut.

“You know anyone could come in through there right?” She stated sternly.

“To my balcony on the second floor?” You laughed, "Whatever you say, I guess you're the boss around here."

She let out a small laugh that could be mistaken for a scoff and turned to your quite large closet, motioning for you to open it. You pulled the doors open to reveal your plethora of dresses and other garments. Sevika sighed at the fullness as you started to push around the dresses, looking for a color you liked.

After some time, you held up two dresses, and Sevika cringed at them, “That one isn’t fit for a ball, and that one is just—” You groaned, interrupting her.

“You said you were looking for honest, not biased.”

Shaking your head you dove back into the clothes, hands emerging with a beautifully embroidered dress, and another that was similar in style with a low V neckline. Sevika looked contemplative for a moment before motioning to the changing divider, “Try them on for me.”

You crossed your arms, “Well, I cant put them on myself, I need help with the corset.”

You said this like it was common sense, but Sevika looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to ask for something like that from her. She grabbed the corset that was on the ground and the second dress from your hand, “Okay, lets get this over with.”

..

"Fuck, Sevika its too tight," you grunted, hands gripping onto the back of a wooden chair.

Sevika had a knee between your legs, roughly pulling at the strings of a white corset. You were just about to be pulled back by her strength if it wasn't for her leg holding you in place.

"Why the fuck would you put yourself through this," she mumbled through gritted teeth.

You yelped in response, and she finally opted to finish tugging and tied it diligently in the back. Breathing a sigh of relief, you slumped forward on the chair, pushing further into Sevikas leg.

Her hands found your waist before she teasingly asked, "Tight enough?"

You nodded, somewhat annoyed with her sarcastic tone, and grabbed the dress that was on the seat of the chair. Sevika backed up and looked away to try and give you even an ounce of privacy as you tugged it over your head.

The dress hugged your curves in the torso and fell around your legs perfectly, with not too much poof and just enough embroidery. It touched the floor and covered your feet, trailing elegantly with you.

Sevika almost gawked at the sight, most definitely eyeing the V neck of the dress. She was glad she picked it.

"You look ready for a ball," she smirked.

"Aww, that's all you have to say?" You giggled, twirling around.

The small twinkle in your eye made her swoon, and she laid a hand on your waist, "You look beautiful, princess."

You smiled at her action, feeling the gentleness from that night return. It's like you broke down her walls in a second, with nothing but a mere look. You all but pried her hand from your waist, flitting over to your vanity.

Grabbing a clip and a comb, you motioned for Sevika to follow you.

"You know I can't do hair, don't push your luck with me. The corset was as far as I'll go," she crossed her arms as if she were putting a foot down.

"No, silly, let me do yours. If you won't dress up for my ball, this is the least you can do," You giggled, pushing her down into your plush vanity stool.

It creaked under her weight, and she sighed but made no further protests. You could see her eyeing you in the mirror, having little faith in your ability. But you just smiled and got to work.

Taking her small bun out, you brushed the small knots and tangles out of her dark hair. It was soft and shiny between your fingers. You admired the deep smell of her shampoo mixed in with her natural scent.

Then, you pulled it up into the same half updo, but instead of tying it with a rubber, you inserted a silver clip in its place. The clip matched her metal arm perfectly, with just the slightest touch of regalness, to show it was yours.

You held a mirror to the back of her head, showing her your work so that she could view it from the mirror in front of her. "It's pretty right?"

Sevika squinted at it in the mirror, bringing a flesh hand up to touch it gently. "Yeah, too pretty for me."

You scoffed and pushed her head gently, "Nonsense, it's just right. As a matter of fact, keep it."

And this would be your first gift to her. The first among many.

She snorted, "I can't deny a gift from the princess"

Looking at the small clock on your vanity, it read: 7:12.

Fuck.

It started in less than 10 minutes. You hurriedly pulled Sevika out of your stool and checked your makeup and hair in the mirror. She smirked at your worriedness and silently held out an arm for you to take.

You turned around to her, eyeing her arm before gently wrapping your hands around it, looking at her to gauge a reaction. But she walked you to your doors, opening them for you with one hand.

You smiled, realizing her intentions, she was going to walk you out in front of all those people. I mean, it was appropriate, right? It's normal for your personal guard to walk you out, only a safety precaution.

..

Well atleast thats what you told yourself as Sevika walked you down the grand staircase right into the party. People gawked at the sight of their princess, admiring the sight of your beautiful dress, others were staring at something— or rather someone else.

Sevika contrasted your appearance greatly. She stood menacingly at your side, glaring at anyone that shot confused glances. Her rough scarred skin opposed the softness of your exposed flesh. Your delicately jeweled fingers were wrapped around her thick arm as she helped you maneuver down the carpeted stairs.

You let her arm go so that you could start greeting your guests. Your servents had put together a grand ball, tables of food and wine were placed intricately, decorated with jars of flowers and other miscellaneous things.

Women complemented your dress while you shook hands with their husbands, offering some wine or water. You were on your best behavior, making sure your guests would report back to your parents talking about how respectful and polite you were.

A tall woman with dark skin approached you, her white dress with gold accessories glimmered in your eyes. She was positively beautiful.

You introduced yourself, "Hello, im glad you could make it tonight. Your dress is striking."

She smiled kindly at your remark, "It's so nice to finally meet you, princess, let me introduce myself," She took your hand and brought it to her supple lips, "I am Mel Medarda."

Your cheeks flushed, "Well, it's a pleasure."

When you finished the pleasantries, you turned to see Sevika glaring at you and Mel from her position in front of the door, taking over for one of the guards. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you made your way to the other side of the room. After swerving through groups of people, avoiding small talk and sending small waves, you finally got to her.

She watched you the whole way over, but decided to look away the second you approached her. Tapping on her arm you cleared your throat, "Ahem, your princess would like a word with you."

She raised her eyebrow, turning her gaze back to you, "Its not appropriate for the princess to be speaking to a worker during an event."

You laughed off her coldness, "Why are you looking at me so intensely then," You started circling her like a predator to its prey, "You wanted my attention?"

She smirked at your playfulness but shook her head, "Just seeing you interact with others is.. odd."

"Jealous?" You teased, knowing she most likely only thought this because she always saw you cooped up at home.

But to your suprise, her stern demeanor fumbled a bit, brows furrowing and eyes widening.

"No. Get back to your duties, we've been speaking for too long, people are staring."

If she wouldn't admit it, you'd make her.

i do plan on making a part 3 ! but im going to be working on some shorter fics + hcs so i have time to release the beauty and the beast fic :)

taglist: @thequeenreaders @hangezoes-wife @thesecondhandwoman @slut4sevika @kylorey25 @archangeldyke-all

comment or ask to be added <33

[miryum]

Pirate Captain!James Potter x Princess!Reader part 1 (pt 1.5, pt 2, angst ending, happy ending)

A princess should know her kingdom and her people. That thought kept rushing through your head as the ship with the black flag steadily approached yours. And her people include the ones roaming the seas, right? If only you could go to your mother and tell her, "I told you so," as the pirates began to board your ship. Of course, your guards surrounded you, faithful until the end, but there wasn't much they could do on a ceremonial ship that prized decorations and etiquette over weapons and speed. Perhaps you shouldn't have commanded your ship to leave the harbour, but there was a traffic jam with all the merchant ships and whatnot. You thought it best to sail around them to get to the far peninsula. 

It wasn't long until your guards were either dead or captured and their blood stained your dress. You were in shock when the pirates hoisted you onto their ship and began to sail off. "Do you know who I am?!" the cliched words spilled out of your mouth. "My- my mother and father are very influential!"

"Don't sell yourself short, princess," one pirate dressed in a loose black shirt that paired with his shoulder-length black hair chuckled. "We know damn well who you are. Our captain picked you out himself."

You hiccuped and tried to fight back the impending tears. You would not cry in front of these brutes. Words failed you as the black haired pirate tied your hands behind your back with rough rope and shoved you down sitting onto the deck. Your dress poofed out around you and the pirate chuckled again. "Mighty fine fabric," he commented. He crouched down next to you. "Could get a pretty penny for it."

At that, you shot him a confused look. "I'm sorry?" you asked, voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm worried for my life and freedom and you're thinking about my dress fabric?" 

The pirate held up his hands in surrender. "Pardon me, princess," he said sarcastically. "But the world doesn't revolve around you."

"Right now it does!" you exclaimed. "The moment the guards on the mainland saw the smoke from my ship, they would've sent a frigate to check on me. Once they see the blood in the water, the blood of my men, they will alert my parents, also known as the king and queen of this land. Once my parents hear of this, they will send out all the ships in their fleet to bring me back to safety. They will not rest until I, the heir to the kingdom, is rescued, and you and your men are held to trial and hung."

The man sat back on his heels and commented, "brigantine?" 

After a beat, you asked, "pardon?"

"Your parent's ships? They're brigantine, aren't they?" At your hesitant nod, he continued, "yes, so, first off, bold of you to assume I am the captain, though I blush at your praise." He threw you a grin before standing in front of you. "Second, the ships in my captain's fleet are all sloops. They're the fastest type of ship ever and with the crews, almost a hundred on each, we know how to push them even faster. Your parents won't ever catch you unless we wish them to."

"Are you torturing the poor girl?" A new voice rang out. The rest of the crew had just finished setting the ship up for top speed to rejoin the rest of their fleet and were now wandering over to you, curious, but not malicious intent in their gazes. The new speaker had hair a little shorter than the first man’s, but it was lighter and messier. He had scars riddling his face and shoulders, but they had healed long ago.

“Remus, you know torture makes me sick,” the first man grinned. “I’d much rather leave that to the captain. Or Wormtail,” he added. 

A scruffy looking boy in the crow’s nest peeked down. “What?” he called. 

“Nevermind, Peter!” the dark-haired man shouted back.

“Where are you taking me?” you demanded, pulling against your bonds. They rubbed against your wrists painfully and you winced. 

The dark-haired man scoffed. “Oh, look at that. Can’t handle the ropes, love?” he taunted and Remus smacked him on the chest.

“Be nice, Sirius,” Remus reprimanded. “We just kidnapped her, for god’s sake.” Remus bent down behind you and undid the ropes. You stared at him, trying to figure out his motive, but he just said to Sirius, like you weren’t even there, “and what would she do? Her dress would sink her to the ocean floor and even then she can’t swim back to the mainland.” You glared at the pirates once you realised he was right.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked again, still sitting on the deck. 

Remus gave you an odd look. “To our captain,” he said as if it were obvious. “Didn’t Sirius tell you? Captain requested you himself.”

“What does that mean?” you pressed, standing up. Your legs shook slightly and you swallowed thickly. “What on earth are you heathens going to do to me?” When they didn’t answer right away, you continued, “I- I’ve heard stories of how wretched you pirates are. And I would rather die than give up my dignity and autonomy.”

“She’s feisty,” Sirius said once you were done. “Captain will like her.”

Remus crossed his arms and said, “Sirius, stop scaring her.” He sighed and turned to you. “We have a fleet of ships a few knots from here. The Captain is waiting for you. He’s very eager to meet you and I can guarantee he won’t hurt you in any way you’re thinking.”

“Why isn’t he here now?” you glared at the two men.

“Captain doesn’t like the mainland,” Sirius said simply. He took out a strip of cloth from his pocket and began wrapping his hand, playing with the fabric. “And if anyone ever caught a whiff of him, he’d be good as dead.”  

“If they could catch him,” Peter shouted from where he was descending from the crow’s nest. 

It was then that you realised that these weren’t the pirates you had heard tales of. They weren’t there to torture or assault you. They had even released you from your bonds. They clearly had loyalty towards their captain, but were also oddly well kept. Other than Remus’ scars, they all looked perfectly healthy and fit. You only hoped their captain was as well-mannered as his crew.

“Who… who is your captain?” you asked slowly. “And will I ever be returned to my kingdom?”

“Ah, well let him introduce himself,” Remus smirked. “Only two or three hours now until you meet him.”

Sirius then shrugged. “And who knows about returning you? Whatever the captain thinks is best.”

“You make it sound like I’m a commodity to be bought and returned,” you spit out, hands gripping at your skirts.

Neither man said anything. 

It was another three hours before the ship began to slow. By that time, you had sat down on the steps leading up to the wheel, having resigned to your fate.

Yet, you couldn’t help when your lips parted in awe when you saw the dozen ships appearing from over the horizon. Their flags all shared the same black cloth with an ‘M’ stitched on them. “Impressive, hmm?” Remus came to stand next to you. He held out a hand for you to take and you pulled yourself up. Your hands pressed along the sanded wood of the railing. 

“Yes,” you admitted. “I… I never knew the extent of pirates in our waters. It gives you chills, does it not? Being on the sea. You never know what’s out there.”

“On the contrary,” Remus said. “It’s liberating.”

 His words sunk in and you stared out at the approaching ships. “Why an ‘M’?” you asked.

“That’s our name,” Remus looked over at you, leaning against the railing too. “We’re Marauders.”

You tried to smother your smile. “Clever,” you admitted. 

“Yes, he thought so. In truth,” Remus revealed, “he employs only those who need it. He creates a community forged not by stealing and gold, but by camaraderie and love for the waters.”

“But you still are pirates,” you said. “You still steal and plunder and purge.”

Remus tilted his head to the side in acquiescence. “Yes,” he replied truthfully. “But not from villages or towns who work hard to earn their keep. Not from merchant ships. We only plunder and purge nobility vessels and that of the royal navy.”

“Those are my men!” you exclaim, turning to face Remus. “But you are slaughtering and maiming my men! I know those men, some of which are barely out of boyhood. I’m the one receiving the reports of who has passed at sea at the hands of you pirates and I am the one who has to send letters to grieving mothers or wives or children.”

The man with the scars bowed his head and didn’t say anything for a while. “If it makes you feel better,” he muttered, “captain orders that we give them all a proper funeral.”

You throw your hands in the air in anger and disbelief. “Oh, yes! That will make me feel better! Let me write to their widows so that may console them.”

“Princess,” Remus stopped your outburst with a firm stare. “I suggest you calm yourself. May I remind you who is in charge.”

“Your captain whom I have not even met.” You scowled and crossed your arms like a petulant child.

Remus nodded towards the fleet they were quickly catching up to. “You will soon.” Sirius called for Remus’ help with manning the sails or something of the sort – you weren’t particularly paying attention to the people who had kidnapped you – but Remus paused and looked you in the eye. “You know,” he muttered, “if you talk to the captain about the men we’re killing… he will probably stop.”

“Do not jest with me.” Your face twisted into an unpleasant expression. “Why on earth would he listen to the princess he kidnapped?”

The pirate’s own expression softened in contrast. “A man will go to lengths for someone he’s supposedly in love with.”

“In love?” you repeated in a whisper after a moment to process what you heard. “But- why- I mean, he’s never even met me!”

“He has,” Remus told you. “You may just not remember.”

The pirates, to their credit, tried to be chivalrous when sending you from one ship to another. Sirius held the rope ladder steady when you climbed down to the rowboat where Peter sat, ready to row. There were numerous times when the ladder swung back and forth and you let out a squeal, clutching to the sides and hoping your satin shoes didn’t slip off the small wooden planks that served as rungs. You were sure you looked ridiculous, both crews watching as you yelled down to Sirius to not look up and consequently under your gown. 

Once you finally settled in the rowboat, casting a disgruntled look to Sirius, Remus climbed down after you and the four of you made the short journey to the other ship. They had you climb the ladder before them and the pirates on the captain’s ship grabbed your forearms to help haul you up over the railing. By the time you stood on the captain’s ship, you were a bit sweaty, the ends of your dress were wet, and you were thoroughly annoyed. 

Sirius and Remus disappeared into the captain's quarters. From your position on the deck, you couldn’t hear much, especially with the waves lapping on the side of the boat and the soft conversations of the crew. 

As much as you tried to be afraid, you couldn’t find it in you. Some gut feeling told you that no matter if these were gross, stinky, immoral pirates, you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Soon enough, you were ushered into the captain's quarters. 

The first thing you noticed was that it was decorated with stolen goods. Pieces of art from all different countries, furniture from four kingdoms, velvet embroidered drapes, and a small bookshelf of books behind glass that looked as if they were crumbling apart. 

The second thing you noticed was the man. He was lounging on the chaise, a leg thrown over the armrest and a tricorn pirate hat held lazily in his fingers. You scoffed and said, “this is not how one should greet a princess, pirate captain or not.”

Instantly, the man bolted to his feet and cleared his throat. “Right. Yes, I’m so sorry, princess.” He was a tall, lean man with a mop of frizzy curls on his head. His skin was tanned from his years at sea, but his hazel eyes shined with utter joy. “Princess,” he repeated, holding his hat to his chest.

“Are you… the captain?” you asked slowly, thinking a pirate captain should’ve been much more fearsome. But this man simply looked… lovestruck.

“Yes,” the man said. “Captain Potter. James Potter.”

Your head tilted to the side inquisitively. “You don’t seem like a pirate.” 

James’ eyebrow lifted up. “Is that an insult?”

“No,” you decided. “You’re simply not what I expected when your crew regaled your triumphs.”

The captain let out a chuckle. “And what accomplishments were those?”

“Well, is this your fleet?” You nodded towards the dozen ships that you could see from the porthole.

“If you think I only have a dozen ships to my name, you’re daft. I’m the most wealthy and respected pirate to sail these seas,” James boasted, a hand to his chest. “Terror runs through the veins of the ships who dare cross us.”

You pressed your lips together in annoyance and James immediately straightened up and cleared his throat. “You know, if you truly wanted terror to run through my veins, you may want to make my capture more unpleasant,” you said.

James snorted in amusement. “And how would you like your kidnapping next time, your highness?” he asked.

“First, I would like to know why you decided to slaughter my men and kidnap me!” you exclaimed, voice rising in anger. “Those men had families! Children! And I have a family too! You think my parents aren’t worried sick, not knowing if their daughter is alive or not? If- if they’ll see her again or not?” your voice shook slightly; obviously, you were projecting your own fears onto your parents.

“It wasn’t intentional to slaughter your men,” James said, as if that was consolation. He stepped forward, but didn’t offer you any more comfort than that. “If they had given up, they would be back on their way to the mainland. Unfortunately, they are loyal to you, so they had to be stopped. And I truly am sorry for all the pain I have caused you, your parents, or the kingdom. I would love to sail you back and return you, but I’m afraid I can't part from you quite yet.”

“And what could you possibly gain from me? Is it money? Because I assure you, there will be a hefty sum to be rewarded if I am brought back alive and well.”

James shook his head, almost sadly. “While I am glad that neither Remus or Sirius told you the true intent of your bringing here, it does give me the embarrassment of having to do it myself.” He shifted his weight foot to foot and it looked as if the dreaded pirate king was almost… nervous.

“Tell me. Now,” you commanded.

James ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up and your nose wrinkled as you watched. “I believe it was… three years ago,” James said, “when I fell in love with you.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Oh, no. It’s entirely possible when it comes to you.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Kingdom Fall  -  Two

Pairing: Farmboy!Bucky X Princess!Reader

Summary: When an invading Kingdom forces you to flee your home, you find yourself stranded in an enemy kingdom on a farm, and the farmboy is nothing like you thought he would be.

Warnings: Violence, Angst, Fluff, Kissing, illusions to smut, nightmares, death,

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: busting this one out cause I feel like it. I have like 7 parts of this written so I feel like I might as well post it. I’m gonna re-do my master list soon too - but that sounds like a weekend adventure. ANYWHO, hope you enjoy <3

~*~

Adapting to living with a stranger is hard.

Of course, given your upbringing, you’re used to being constantly surrounded by people. What you’re not so used to, is sharing such close living quarters with a man.

You had anticipated he’d be gross and inconsiderate, but he’s quite clean and very kind, always offering you the last bit of food and giving you plenty of space. He’s even gifted you the bedroom, insisting that he wakes up far too early and goes to sleep far too late to require a bed.

He spends most of his days out in the fields, tending to the animals and the crops. On more than one occasion you have found yourself watching him work.

You find yourself entrance by his meticulous movements, the way his muscles ripple beneath the hot sun when he removes his tunic when he thinks you’re not looking. But what has you most interested in him, is his never ending kindness.

As you spend the days regaining your strength and trying to formulate a plan, you can’t help but notice just how kind this man is. From making you meals, to letting you have the first bath, to giving you all the clothes he can find.

His kindness knows no bounds.

It’s a particularly hot day, and he’s been outside in the fields for the majority of it. But now, as the sun begins to set and the wind becomes cooler, he’s left the house for the night.

With a glass of chilled water in hand, you venture outside to find him and gift it to him in thanks for his neverending patience and kindness.

“James?” You call, looking our across the fields then towards the barn further on the property.

You make your way toward the barn, brows furrowed when you hear soft speaking from within.

Immediately you think the worst, one hand grabbing a dagger from its sheath around your waist.

You push the door open, dagger hidden behind your back, but drop your guard when you take in the scene before you.

James is lying down on a makeshift bed of hay, a thin blanket tossed over his legs and a baby goat at his side.

His eyes are wide, lips parted as if he were mid-sentence.

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing.

“Are you all right?” He asks, finally breaking the silence.

“Have you been sleeping here this whole time?”

He nods, not seeming to give it a second thought.

“I have only one bed,” he says simply.

“To which you are entitled to,” you counter immediately.

He only shakes his head, but you copy the action soon after.

“No, this is your home. I am nothing more than an intruder and a bed thief, apparently. I will not allow you to sleep out here another night. You will spend time in your bed as you are the rightful owner!”

He shakes his head, a sad look in his eyes.

“But you’ve lost so much already.”

Your own face softens and you take a step toward him, “so give me this one thing.”

He watches you for a very long moment before huffing out a sigh and pushing himself into a seated position.

He turns to the baby goat at his side and gently pets its head.

“You be good, understand? I will be back in the morning.”

The goat nudges his little head against the brunets hand and bleats softly when the man rises to his feet.

He dusts off his trousers, looking a tad embarrassed, then offers you the gentlest, sweetest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Lead the way,” he murmurs, eyes soft when you smile back at him.

You lead the way back toward his home, pausing to wait for him when he locks up the barn.

When you’re back inside, you finally hand him the glass of water.

His fingers linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes piercing through yours and in the moment you feel as if he can see your soul.

“I’ll draw you a bath,” you whisper, desperate to break free from the intensity of his gaze.

He shakes his head but you quirk your brows at him, daring him to refuse.

He watches as you leave to fetch some water, beyond amazed.

After so many years alone, all by himself on the farm, he finally has company.

It terrifies him how much he loves it.

And that company being you makes it all the better.

He hasn't known you long, but in the little time he has he’s come to realize that you’re nothing like any other woman he’s ever met.

You’re strong and firm in your word, yet you have so much capacity for kindness that it amazes him.

He’s reminded of one of the first conversations he had with you, when you mentioned that you had no husband, and for a moment he lets himself dream that he was lucky enough to be that.

He imagines what it would be like to be yours, to be able to call you his.

All his wildest dreams and greatest desires all rolled into one.

He shakes his head, shakes the fantasy from his mind as you re-emerge, a soft smile on your face.

“The water is ready,” you whisper gently, stepping aside to allow him space to pass through.

He steps by you, his firm chest brushing against you for only a moment before he steps into the bathroom.

He pulls the door closed, but the old wood doesn’t shut completely, leaving a crack large enough for you to see through.

You can’t help but watch as he begins to undress, his torso wrapped in thick, tanned muscle from working the fields all day under the hot sun.

For a moment you find yourself wondering what it would feel like to touch his skin, to have your fingers graze the firm muscle on his chest. You quickly shake those thoughts from your head and turn away as he drops his trousers.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea while he bathes, and your mind wanders as you do so.

Your life has changed so drastically in such a short period of time, and you’re not sure how you feel about it.

In a little more than a moon cycle, you’ve lost your family, your home, and your way of life. But you've gained an ally, a friend or perhaps more.

You know not what has become of your home, your family, or Steve, and your heart hurts at the mere thought of them. But beyond the pain is something warm that you’re slightly ashamed of when you think of James.

He’s shown you nothing but kindness and compassion in the brief amount of time that you’ve known him.

You can’t help but wonder if he’ll help you reclaim what’s yours.

To do that, though, you'll need to know what you’re going up against.

In the time that you’ve been here with James, you’ve learned of your exact location and the amount of time it will take to make it back to your kingdom.

You don’t think the man realizes just how close he lives to the border of Aresia, your home. And if he does, he’s somehow blissfully unaware of the war being waged currently.

It would take no more than a day to ride to the forest behind the Aresian Palace, and from there you would be able to navigate your way through the city to find survivors.

Though you could very well do it yourself, having help would make the journey far more bearable and ensure your success.

You’ll need supplies, provisions, and weapons for any surviors you find.

You’ll need to create an army and lead them into battle if you want even a chance at reclaiming your Kingdom.

James’ voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You look up at him as he steps out of the bathroom, his hair wet and his face gentle.

“If I am to sleep on the bed, where will you sleep?” He inquires softly, perplexed at the idea of you sleeping anywhere but a bed.

You only shrug, “I will find somewhere, just as you did.”

He shakes his head and before he has a chance to think about his words, he’s speaking.

“We could... share the bed. Now, I am not saying this to be lewd or forward, mind you. I only suggest so as to save you the trouble of finding another bed or sleeping on the floor. I can promise that my hands will not stray and my eyes will not wander, though if they did I have no doubt you would put them back where they belong. I simply cannot allow you to sleep anywhere but a bed and I insist that-”

You raise a hand to silence him, a soft smile on your lips.

“Thank you, James. For your generosity. I would love to share the bed with you.”

A relieved smile lights up his face like the aurora borealis, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, as if you’re giving him something by taking up half of his space.

Though you’re grateful to have a bed to lie in, you’re a little worried as well.

Nightmares have plagued you since your first night here, and they haven’t exactly been the gentlest. You often wake yourself up thrashing or even crying at times, calling out for those who cannot answer you.

You only hope that you'll sleep more peacefully with him beside you.

~*~

“Princess!”

You look around, searching for the source of the voice.

“Steve?”

“Princess! Where are you?”

You gather the base of your dress and sprint toward his voice, heart racing in your chest at the thought of finally seeing him again.

It’s been so long.

He breaks through the trees bordering the farm, sweat and blood on his brow, but his blue eyes light up when they see you.

“Princess,” he whispers, dropping his sword and running toward you.

You slam into his arms, winding your own arms around his frame and hugging him close to your body.

“I thought I lost you,” you whisper, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

He presses you against himself and kisses the top of your head.

“You won’t find yourself rid of me that easily, your highness,” he whispers, chuckling when you slap his back.

He slowly pulls away to look at you, both hands cupping your cheeks while a gentle smile spreads across his lips.

You smile back up at him, the expression fading when you notice a drop of blood falling down the side of his head.

“You’re hurt,” you murmur, bringing your hand up to inspect the wound on his head.

When you do, you find his hair is soaked with blood, the red staining his blond locks.

“Steve?!” You look at him with wide eyes, taking a step out of his arms as his eyes slowly become more and more red.

“I’m not hurt, Princess.”

You shake your head, “all the blood...”

He gives you a weak smile and steps away, a sword protruding through his chest.

“I’m dead, Princess.”

You jolt awake, tears prickling at your eyes at the intensity of your nightmare.

It’s been near a week since you and James have begun sharing the bed, and tonight is the first time you’ve woken yourself with your nightmare.

��(Y/n)? Are you all right?” James asks softly, turning over on his side to look at you.

You take a few deep breaths and nod, trying to maintain your composure.

“What happened?”

Those two words are all it takes for the floodgates to open and tears to leak from your eyes.

“It... it was so vivd. So... real,” you whisper, staying on your back and staring up at the ceiling.

“It was only a dream, you’re okay. I’m here.”

You nod, sniffling and trying to calm down.

“Do you... do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly, scooting slightly closer to you.

You can feel the heat radiating off of his body and you roll onto your side to face him, snuggling closer to him.

“I think I've lost everyone,” you confess softly, not going any further into detail.

He's surprised at both your proximity and your confession, but slowly wraps an arm around you to hold you close to his body, hoping to comfort you in a way his words cannot.

“I’m here. You haven’t lost everyone,” he murmurs, his chin resting atop your head.

You hum your agreement and relax into his arms the tiniest bit more, fingers toying with a string on his nightshirt as his hand rubs up and down your back, soothing you back to sleep.

When you awake again later on in the morning, James is gone.

You push yourself into a seated position with a soft huff, mind still reeling from the intensity of your nightmare and from the way James was able to comfort you.

Meanwhile, the man himself is locking the animals in the barn and putting everything away.

A storm is rolling in, and by the looks of it, it’s going to be an intense one.

He manages to finished everything and make it back inside just as the first drops are falling from the sky.

“(Y/n)?” He calls, surprised that you’re not in the kitchen pouring over a book or a map the way you normally are.

The sound of water splashing softly clues him in to where you are, and he follows the sound to the source, freezing in his tracks when he catches a glimpse of you through the crack in the door.

He makes a mental note to fix the door, but those thoughts get shoved aside as you rise from the water, naked body on display for his gaze.

He watches as if stuck under a spell as the water droplets race down the curves of your body, tracing a path that he would love to feel or even kiss.

He turns away quickly when you reach for a towel, cursing himself for not giving you more privacy.

He walks into the kitchen and sits down with his head in his hands, the image of your body ingrained behind his lids.

Granted, it has been a while since he’s had the pleasure of a woman’s body before him, but he knows without a shred of doubt that you are the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid his eyes on. Even if it was only for a fraction of a moment.

“James?” Your soft voice calls as you exit the bathroom, confused as to why he’s inside.

He looks up and swallows hard, trying to keep his thoughts pure.

“A storm is coming. I’ve locked the animals up until it passes, and I won’t be able to work the fields until the rain cease and the ground settles.”

You nod, eyes fluttering to the kitchen window. The clouds are dark and angry, and rain pours down from the sky.

“It will likely become cold. I was going to start a fire, if you’d like,” he suggests, rising to his feet and making his way toward the fireplace near the bed.

You nod your agreement.

“I’ll make us some tea, as well.”

When the fire is blazing and the tea is ready, you and James sit at the end of the bed in front of the fire, a tension between the two of you that wasn’t there before.

You’re not sure if it’s because of your nightmare, or the new sleeping arrangements, or if it has anything to do with the eyes you felt while you were getting out of the bathtub earlier.

Whatever is causing the tension has the room electrified.

“I still have not the slightest clue where you are from,” James whispers after a moment of tense silence.

You sigh softly and take a sip of your tea, unsure of how much you should divulge to him.

“I’m from a neighbouring kingdom not far from here. Perhaps a days ride away, maybe more. I... I was forced to flee in order to save my life.”

He looks down, saddened at the fact that you had to go through something so terrible.

“You’ve been through much pain, haven’t you?” He asks softly.

You only shrug, eyes on the flame in front of you.

“From a young age I have been taught that pain is the only way. The only way forward... the only way through. Where I come from, we learn through pain, through pain we grow. Besides death, pain is the only thing we are promised in this life.”

Bucky chuckles softly and shakes his head, “we also grown and learn through love.”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head, your heart hurting as you think about Steve.

“Love is a weakness, nothing more.”

“I beg to differ.”

You turn your gaze to him, eyeing him closely as he sips on his tea, his own eyes trained forward.

“Oh? You are informed on the subject, then?” You inquire quietly, genuinely wanting his take on it.

He shrugs, slowly turning to look at you.

His eyes move from your eyes down to your lips, then back up again slowly.

“I have my theories... my thoughts on the matter.”

You hum, leaning closer with the hopes of hearing more.

“What sort of theories?”

He wets his lips, eyes darkened the tiniest bit.

“I think that... love is something as terrifying as it is beautiful. I think love can be stronger than anything else. Love can heal and love can hurt. It is the best and worst part of humanity. When you love someone, you would go anywhere for them, do anything for them. You would fight the Gods and you would live through Hell if only to make them happy. To love someone is to sacrifice everything you have... everything you are... and when they love you back...” he trails off, the back of his hand brushing against your knee lightly.

“When someone offers you the same level of love... well... then you are indestructible. Together you could take over the world. Overthrow empires and win wars. Because you fuel and power each other. You strengthen each other, and no amount of steel or silver could ever compare.”

You look at him, absolutely intrigued by his take on things.

From a young age you were taught that love was poison. Love would stand in the way between you and success, so love had to be stopped before it could start.

But the way James describes it. Something about it is so beautiful and so terrifying all at the same time.

“Have you... have you ever felt this love?” You ask softly, setting your teacup on the ground and turning your body to face him entirely.

He lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head, eyes slowly raising to yours.

“If you would’ve asked me two moons ago, I would’ve said no. Now, though... now I’m not so sure.”

You swallow hard and lean closer to him, breaths becoming heavier as the atmosphere changes.

“What has changed to cause this?” You question, though you think you know the answer.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, one hand coming up to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek.

“I stumbled upon someone in the woods... at first I thought her a dream... something far too good to be true. Yet here she is, sitting before me.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your cheek into his hand and allowing him to guide your face closer to his.

You can feel his soft breath upon your lips, his own lips a breath away.

He waits, not wanting to push your boundaries, but when you utter a soft ‘please’ he’s leaning forward to connect your lips.

He isn't your first kiss, but he’s certainly the most passionate while simultaneously being the softest.

His lips are soft and slightly chapped, moving gently against your own, just testing the waters.

When you lean forward, one hand sliding through his hair, he becomes a bit more assertive.

The hand that isn’t on your face moves to your waist, holding you gently and pulling you closer all at the same time.

You melt into him, getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your body and his lips on yours.

He slowly pulls away, a small smile stretching across his face when you chase after the feeling of his lips.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly, his hand moving slowly lower. From your waist to your hip then down your thigh.

“Better than okay,” you whisper breathlessly, leaning your forehead against his.

He sighs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips once more then pulling back to look at you.

“I do not wish to have you only physically,” he confesses quietly, his eyes so full of vulnerability.

You bring your hands to his chest, thumbs smoothing over the bit of exposed skin where his top button has come undone.

“In what way do you want me?”

He chuckles gently, “in any way you’ll allow me.”

You smile and take his hand, brining it to your lips and kissing his fingertips.

“And so you shall have me.”

[nightfaeses]

wippp <3