#romance of the perilous land

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played Romance of the Perilous Land ?

By Scott Malthouse

Romance of the Perilous Land is a roleplaying game of magic and adventure set in the world of British folklore, from the stories of King Arthur to the wonderful regional tales told throughout this green and pleasant land. It is a world of romantic chivalry, but also of great danger, with ambitious kings, evil knights, and thieving brigands terrorizing the land, while greedy giants, malevolent sorcerers, and water-dwelling knuckers lurk in the shadows. As valiant knights, mighty barbarians, subtle cunning folk, and more, the players are heroes, roaming the land to fight evil, right wrongs, and create their own legends.

[vintagerpg]

Romance of the Perilous Land (2019) is Osprey’s other debut RPG. Things here are familiar and new in equal measure. It is obviously a game of Arthurian adventure, but unlike Pendragon, it doesn’t attempt to adhere to any sort of canon. Despite the tag line of the game being about British folklore, it does not conform to the England of reality. There is no map, its a mythic place with undefined borders. This is good, because Pendragon already has the reconstructed romance covered, and this lets us romp in the Camelot of our childhood imaginings. Robin Hood is in here, too! Because even though he shouldn’t be, he should be, if you get me.

Continuing this notion of new but familiar, this is definitely a hack of D&D. It cites the OGL at the end of the book and lists David Black’s Black Hack as a prime source of mechanics. I can’t see specific Black Hack mechanics (I have a hard time parsing the different versions of D&D at this point, official or unofficial) but the class-based, d20, roll under attribute system is definitely smoothed down in ways the hearken to modern hack design. There are lots of nice things that ground the mechanics to the theming — characters are unambiguously good, “race” is mechanically absent, class is supported by trade-like backgrounds, there are armor points and the magic system is points-based as well. Valor points, earned through good behavior, can be spent for a variety of advantages. Its a rare thing: a simpler sort of D&D custom tailored to provide a familiar system for a different sort of game.

(Another mark in the game’s favor: its inclusion of illustrations featuring Black characters and women who are knights really annoyed a certain racist metal musician and maker of shitty RPGs. Fuck that guy).

[williamrotpl]

What's This Blog?

Romance of the Perilous Land is a roleplaying game of magic and adventure set in the world of British folklore, from the stories of King Arthur to the wonderful regional tales told throughout this green and pleasant land. It is a world of romantic chivalry, but also of great danger, with ambitious kings, evil knights, and thieving brigands terrorizing the land, while greedy giants, malevolent sorcerers, and water-dwelling knuckers lurk in the shadows. 

Here, I will be using the ruleset for Romance of the Perilous Land, the Mythic GM Emulator 2nd Edition, and other supplements to play a 'solo' game of RotPL. Basically, it's like playing Dungeons and Dragons - but it's not Dungeons and Dragons, and I'm doing it alone as a mindful writing exercise with dice! I'll also be posting Middle Ages aesthetics and things that strike my fancy, as well as maybe talking about other TTRPGs!

This post will serve as a home base where I'll link all the session reports as I write them! Thank you so much for joining William Montressor on his journey!

Resources:

RotPL at Osprey Publishing

Mythic GM Emulator, 2nd Edition at Drive Thru RPG

[theversevoyager]

In the realm of dreams, two hearts did meet, A love blossomed, as they dared to beat, Together they explored, adventure their guide, In realms unknown, they soared and hid. Beneath the moon's soft glow they'd dance, Their passion, a wild, untamed romance. Through perilous lands and treacherous seas, They ventured on, hand in hand, their hearts at ease. In the end, their love would conquer all, A testament to the power of love's thrall. Their story, forever etched in time, A tale of love, and adventure, ever so divine.

[adragonprinceswhore]

All work is 18+, Minors DNI

Aemond Targaryen

🌊 Colour My Mind, Bring Me Back

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen returns to King’s Landing victorious after besting his uncle during The Battle Above the Gods Eye, securing his withering brother's claim to the Iron Throne. Upon his arrival, he learns that his wife was a casualty of a Black ambush, suffering a severe blow to her skull. When her disoriented mind wakes, she’s lost all recollection of him and their shared past.

🌺 The Way I Feel Under Your Command

Disgruntled, Aemond agrees to accompany his family on their yearly summer trip to Red Lake; a luxury resort hidden away in the ruins of an ancient castle. Dragged to a staff party on his first night there, he meets a young woman working as a dance instructor in urgent need of a partner.

🎼 Rumours

After a painful separation, you and your soon-to-be ex husband agree to put your differences aside and continue to make music together. But Aemond Targaryen’s vengeful streak runs deep, and you’re the object of his ire.

🍄 The Commune

A modern AU where Aemond, power-hungry and high on hubris, is the leader of a commune with a peculiar affection for the Seven.

🐉 One Whore’s As Good As Another

Desperate to prove he’s no mere boy, Prince Aemond leaves his taunting brother and seeks out another conquest. Momentarily, he feels back in control, until his brother reappears.

🔥 Warm Me Up

When his wife speaks out of turn during a dinner with the King, Aemond needs to reprimand her indiscretions.

🏺Whatever Interests You

You’re hired as a journalist to interview Prince Aemond Targaryen about his complicated family and their colonial past. Meeting the prince in person, he proves to be much more than the pompous royal you had imagined.

🏒 Sexting w/ modern!Aemond

You may be the one Aemond asks for when carnal urges consume him, but never forget that he’s in charge.

❤️‍🩹 Soft & Hard

How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

🥀 Romancer

When his wife tragically passes away, Prince Aemond stops at nothing to get her back.

📸 Make You Feel My Love

A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

🍑 Celebratory Dinner

Aemond wants to try something new for your one year anniversary.

Aegon II Targaryen

💫 Rip It Up & Start Again

Growing up on the perilous streets of Flea Bottom, you’d learned that in King’s Landing it’s either eat or be eaten. When you hear from a friend that a posh rehab centre just outside of town is hosting an open AA meeting, you see your chance to infiltrate the elite of Westeros, hoping to swipe something of value from one of the rich snobs there. Unfortunately, it seems like the wristwatch you attempt to nick belongs to a man you share an unexplainable bond with.

🕯️Teaching the Unteachable

When all else fails, Aegon’s wife employs drastic measures to teach the unteachable.

Billy Washington

🚿 You’re Perfect

You ask Billy to fulfill one of your fantasies.

Tom Bennett

⚓️ Tell Me You Missed Me

Word around the street is that you went on a date with someone else? Tom Bennet, fresh of the navy vessel, is not happy to hear that.

Osferth

♨️ You’re Nothing But A Beast

After falling into a river in the middle of winter, Osferth needs to warm up his lady companion.

[theaguanzon]

Two different worlds collide in a chance encounter, and hearts catch fire on a dangerous road. The adventure begins…

If you’re a fan of Critical Role, then you know TUSK LOVE, the Mighty Nein’s—or, okay, just Jester’s—favorite saucy in-universe romance novel. The actual novel is coming July 1, 2025 from Del Rey, and it’s written by… ME!!! ❤️‍🔥

I’ve honestly been in a daze since January, when that fateful e-mail landed in my inbox specifically requesting if I could do this book. Critical Role is one of the best shows of all time and its influence on me as a writer and Dungeon Master is massive. I want to thank Del Rey and the CritRole team for this amazing opportunity to contribute to a canon that is so near and dear to my heart 🥹

TUSK LOVE is the story of Guinevere, a wealthy merchant’s sheltered daughter, and Oskar, a blacksmith’s brooding apprentice. Fate throws them together on the vast and peril-laden thoroughfare known as the Amber Road, where they must rely on each other to survive. Forbidden sparks fly, bodices are ripped, choices must be made—but can a girl raised as a lady and a boy from the wrong side of the tracks truly find their happily ever after?

As to why it’s entitled TUSK LOVE… you’ll see 👁️👄👁️

Preorders are now live!

[yandere-wishes]

Vaguely based on an idea I had while making this edit. Plus I like to romantics my Aquaphobia.

Thinking of how different Neuvillet could have been, how paradoxical. He's basically a wild thing, tamed for the sake of granting mercy. Ocean-born dragon masquerading as a human...

🫧 Yandere Neuvillette (Regular)  

There's bubbles in your throat when he kisses you. Fresh salt from the sea and the prick of puka shells on your tongue.

You're drowning again. Just like last time. And the time before that.

Each kiss pulls you deeper into his watery depths.

He rests his forehead against yours, blue eyes too deep to stare into. You feel lost at sea when he looks at you. Too much love and misplaced adoration. It's like he's trying to swallow you whole.

When his blue lips part to utter your name in reverence you hear waterfalls singing your name. Siren songs begging you to follow, to impale your heart upon their love. Neuvillette leads you to the dance floor, dancing in tune with shark eye spirals.

He floats, treading air.

He's made to terrorize on both land and sea.

Deadly thing playing lovers with the wretched girl he stole.

You trace the tip of his gloved fingers expecting claws and scales and only finding smooth skin and delighted chuckles.

The band stops.

You don't recall when they started.

Neuvillette lowers his lips, the permanent blue painting your lips in his shade. Your lungs scream, overflowing.

So this is how sirens kill.

By weaving romance with water and pushing it down their lover's throat.

The water gives way, you choke with each deep breath. Coughing and gulping and trying to live. Neuvillette smiles bemused by your toil.

As the crowd claps for their Iudex and his lady...

🫧Yandere Dragon Neuvillette (feral)

There's bubbles in your throat when he kisses you. Sharp jagged teeth feeding into delicate lapis lips. Neuvillette's iridescent tail tightens around your hips, pulling you closer until you drown in his aqueous body.

The distinction between breathing and suffocating is subtle when you're trapped between two voids. Hungry hydrous dragon and the peril of Fontain's endless waters.

They say the hydro dragon haunts the seas.

Vindictive, ravenous.

Your ancestors used to feed it brides in hopes of complacency.

Neuvillette pushes you deeper, you feel the raptures in your ears, see the blood lining the translucent waters. His claws dig deeper into your back, bemused at the fortitude of bone. running talons between the pearls of your spine, playing with the space between each bone.

His eyes glow a hungry blue. You wonder if his kiss is a promise or a threat. If he intends to eat you whole and lick your bones with the gentlest of love. Or if he wants to savor each bite, enjoy mouthfuls of flesh and bone and marrow every day until there is nothing left of you.

The hydro dragon trails his forked tongue across your teeth, your throat, the uneven roof of your mouth. Utterly, utterly in love.

[nightingale-the-lurker]

Hic est nihilum

[DEMO] Last update: 19/04/2024 | [ROMANCE OPTIONS]

SYNOPSIS

Hic est nihilum is a 16+ fantasy story set in a desolate, post-apocalyptic wasteland. Assume the mantle of the Omen, a rebel who endured a harrowing betrayal. Embarking on a perilous journey through the lifeless Abysm, you must rescue your allies from the clutches those who'd sooner see you dead and stop two loving, loathing gods from taking control of your mind.

PLOT

After a lifetime of enduring the Matriarch's iron grip, you dared to defy her tyranny. Empowered by the enigmatic Sud the Time's End, the smiling harbinger of death, you led your forces to reclaim a portion of the desolate, lifeless wastes of the Abysm. Victory seemed within reach, until betrayal shattered your ambitions.

Left for dead in the unforgiving desert, your survival now hinges on an ambiguous mission from your divine benefactor. As you navigate this treacherous path, the fate of your allies hangs in the balance, while the Matriarch's dominion remains unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the chaos, whispers of alternative powers echo through the Abysm, offering salvation at a steep price. Will you bend to the will of fate, or forge your own path to freedom? The choice is yours, but in this land of turmoil, nothing comes without sacrifice.

FEATURES

Play as a male, female, or non-binary character and choose your sexuality.

Customize your appearance and personality.

Decide on your skills, weapon, and fighting style.

Gather a patchwork group to rebel against the Matriarch.

Interact with two gods who want to take you as an ally, servant, and saint: Erichea the Drowned Maiden and Sud the Time's End.

Decide how you'll lead your rebellion: Will you be a ruthless rulebreaker, an idealistic liberator, or a pragmatic diplomat?

Don't lose your mind. Or do.

ROMANCE OPTIONS

Faz Sharaan is a tech expert who mysteriously appeared at your doorstep, offering his expertise. Though invaluable to your cause and a man with a heart of gold, his past remained a tightly guarded secret. It's as if he emerged fully formed from the desert sands.

Yuan Lixue is your steadfast ally and fierce protector. From the outset, she dedicated herself wholeheartedly to your cause, her loyalty to freedom unwavering. Yet, the crucible of battle has left its mark, turning her into a hardened warrior with an appetite for blood.

Rhys Dariann is exactly what he says: A flesh-eating demon. Yet he seamlessly transitions into kind town doctor and devoted chaplain. His reasons for aiding you are veiled in secrecy, but one thing is clear: an old hatred towards the Matriarch fuels his every action.

The Angel is an enigmatic and inhuman celestial being sworn to your cause without explanation. Their price? To never again take a life under your command. You've always wondered, however, if they're fallen from grace or merely overlooked by the gods of the Abysm.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Last Binding trilogy (A Marvellous Light, A Restless Truth, A Power Unbound) by Freya Marske

Endorsement from submitter #1: "A trilogy of books set in a magical Edwardian England, the Last Binding series focuses on three queer couples who come together in order to solve a conspiracy threatening all magic. It’s a masterful blending of fantasy, historical fiction, and romance, with a splash of mystery and Wodehousian romp. Expect magical manor house parties with beautiful wallpaper, as well as explorations of power, trust, and what we owe the land. The prose is absolutely gorgeous and evocative. The characters and their emotional arcs form the beating heart of the story, intertwined with beautifully crafted romance. The worldbuilding feels organic and deeply rooted within this hidden magical society. These books are thoughtful, tender, scorching, and fun all at once."

Endorsement from submitter #2: "Utterly fantastic historical fantasy. Each book focuses on a subset of a larger character set. There is an overarching high stake magical plot, as well as different queer romances explored in each individual book."

Robin Blyth has more than enough bother in his life. He’s struggling to be a good older brother, a responsible employer, and the harried baronet of a seat gutted by his late parents’ excesses. When an administrative mistake sees him named the civil service liaison to a hidden magical society, he discovers what’s been operating beneath the unextraordinary reality he’s always known.

Now Robin must contend with the beauty and danger of magic, an excruciating deadly curse, and the alarming visions of the future that come with it—not to mention Edwin Courcey, his cold and prickly counterpart in the magical bureaucracy, who clearly wishes Robin were anyone and anywhere else.

Robin’s predecessor has disappeared, and the mystery of what happened to him reveals unsettling truths about the very oldest stories they’ve been told about the land they live on and what binds it. Thrown together and facing unexpected dangers, Robin and Edwin discover a plot that threatens every magician in the British Isles—and a secret that more than one person has already died to keep.

Fantasy, historical fiction, romance, magic, Edwardian, series, adult

Winter's Orbit by Everina Maxwell

Endorsement from submitter: "Gay princes in space"

While the Iskat Empire has long dominated the system through treaties and political alliances, several planets, including Thea, have begun to chafe under Iskat's rule. When tragedy befalls Imperial Prince Taam, his Thean widower, Jainan, is rushed into an arranged marriage with Taam's cousin, the disreputable Kiem, in a bid to keep the rising hostilities between the two worlds under control.

But when it comes to light that Prince Taam's death may not have been an accident, and that Jainan himself may be a suspect, the unlikely pair must overcome their misgivings and learn to trust one another as they navigate the perils of the Iskat court, try to solve a murder, and prevent an interplanetary war... all while dealing with their growing feelings for each other.

Science fiction, romance, arranged marriage, politics, mystery, adult

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Louie is very popular. Who wouldn't love a swan who can read, write, and play the trumpet? When Louie goes to camp, he meets a boy named A.G. who doesn't like birds, and since Louie is a bird, that means he doesn't like Louie. When A.G. pulls a dangerous stunt out on the lake, he realizes that Louie is a hero, after all.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

Every kid thinks about running away at one point or another; few get farther than the end of the block. Young Sam Gribley gets to the end of the block and keeps going--all the way to the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. There he sets up house in a huge hollowed-out tree, with a falcon and a weasel for companions and his wits as his tool for survival. In a spellbinding, touching, funny account, Sam learns to live off the land, and grows up a little in the process. Blizzards, hunters, loneliness, and fear all battle to drive Sam back to city life. But his desire for freedom, independence, and adventure is stronger. No reader will be immune to the compulsion to go right out and start whittling fishhooks and befriending raccoons.

The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

Alec Ramsay is the sole human survivor of a devastating shipwreck. Trapped on a deserted island, Alec finds his only companion is a horse, beautiful, unbroken, and savage . . . a horse whose beauty matches his wild spirit.

The Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare

All his life, Call has been warned by his father to stay away from magic. To succeed at the Iron Trial and be admitted into the vaunted Magisterium school would bring bad things. But he fails at failing. Only hard work, loyal friends, danger, and a puppy await.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe

Before it's too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household -- a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits... and fangs!

Beka Cooper by Tamora Pierce

Beka Cooper is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, commonly known as "the Provost's Dogs," in Corus, the capital city of Tortall. To the surprise of both the veteran "Dogs" and her fellow "puppies," Beka requests duty in the Lower City. The Lower City is a tough beat. But it's also where Beka was born, and she's comfortable there.

Beka gets her wish. She's assigned to work with Mattes and Clary, famed veterans among the Provost's Dogs. They're tough, they're capable, and they're none too happy about the indignity of being saddled with a puppy for the first time in years. What they don't know is that Beka has something unique to offer. Never much of a talker, Beka is a good listener. So good, in fact, that she hears things that Mattes and Clary never could - information that is passed in murmurs when flocks of pigeons gather ... murmurs that are the words of the dead.

In this way, Beka learns of someone in the Lower City who has overturned the power structure of the underworld and is terrorizing its citizens into submission and silence. Beka's magical listening talent is the only way for the Provost's Dogs to find out the identity of this brutal new underlord, for the dead are beyond fear. And the ranks of the dead will be growing if the Dogs can't stop a crime wave the likes of which has never been seen. Luckily for the people of the Lower City, the new puppy is a true terrier!

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

In the kingdom of Ayortha, who is the fairest of them all? Certainly not Aza. She is thoroughly convinced that she is ugly. What she may lack in looks, though, she makes up for with a kind heart, and with something no one else has-a magical voice. Her vocal talents captivate all who hear them, and in Ontio Castle they attract the attention of a handsome prince - and a dangerous new queen.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods.

[theetherealbloom]

AS GOOD A REASON - CH. 2 | OBERYN MARTELL

Chapter Two: Let The Dance With The Devil Begin

Summary: You, who has made it her life's work to get retribution on those who mistreated and harassed you when you were a child. The scars on your body are a physical reminder of the suffering you endured at the hands of abusers, and they also provide the fuel for your years-long quest for retribution.

Paring: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS GO AWAY, GoT is full of serious and harmful topics, mentions of SA, Rape (not the reader), Murder, Violence, Gore, War, Poison, Scars, Burns, Scratching, Su!c!de, AU, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Blood, War, Religion References, Nudity, Domestic Abuse, Incest, Prostitution, Weapons, Fire, Horror, Character Deaths, Rewrite Alternate Universe, Sex, Alcohol, Revenge

Word Count: 7k

A/N: Omfg. I took so long to write this I know T^T Thank you for being patient with me! I just decided to have a mini break bcs I was jet lagged from travelling and had to focus on my health for a little bit. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: The Albatross by Taylor Swift

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RED KEEP, WESTEROS - 300 AC

You spent two decades carefully avoiding forming deep bonds, all the while meticulously plotting your revenge. You studied their weaknesses, habits, and relationships, patiently biding your time until you could strike from close range.

You had noticed the lingering glances between Cersei Lannister and Jaime Lannister, their whispered conversations turning into passionate encounters. So when Cersei bore a child, rumored to be the result of her incestuous relationship, and as you witnessed Joffrey Baratheon growing into a likeness of his parents, you recorded every detail in your leather-bound notebook. It contained all the information about those responsible for the death of Elia Martell, ensuring no detail escaped your scrutiny.

Serena, a girl you befriended in the bustling stables, is a steadfast ally in your quest for vengeance. Together, you both meticulously gather intelligence, weaving through the whispers of the kitchen staff and the secrets shared in the shadowy corners of brothels. With her keen eyes and your shared determination, you stalk those who have wronged you, laying the groundwork for your calculated retribution.

In the heart of the Seven Kingdoms, the struggle for power rages on. Joffrey Baratheon, seated upon the Iron Throne, wields authority backed by the formidable House Lannister. However, his claim faces challenge from his uncle Renly, who, bolstered by the might of House Tyrell, presses his own bid for kingship. In this turmoil, Tyrion Lannister arrives in King's Landing, aiming to assert control, only to find himself at odds with his conniving sister, Cersei, now entrenched as Queen Regent.

As autumn blankets the realm and whispers of an impending winter linger, Westeros braces for the bitter cold ahead. Yet, instead of preparing for the harsh season, the land remains conflicted. Renly Baratheon's sudden demise alters the tides of allegiance, leaving the political landscape in flux. Meanwhile, Joffrey, with the backing of House Tyrell, emerges victorious in a decisive clash against his uncle Stannis, solidifying his hold on power.

The fates of many hang precariously in the balance. In the labyrinthine corridors of King's Landing, both Tyrion Lannister and Sansa Stark navigate treacherous waters, their survival dependent on their ability to navigate the perilous currents of court intrigue.

You had served Sansa since the day she was first betrothed to King Joffrey. Back then, she had been full of dreams—visions of knighthood, love, and a golden crown. But those dreams quickly soured, turning into nightmares as the Lannisters’ hold over her tightened. What was once a promising union became a gilded cage. They kept her in the Red Keep, a prisoner beneath layers of silk and politeness. 

Sansa clung to her “lady-like” pursuits to distract from the harshness of her reality—sewing, embroidery, poetry, and music. Her stitches were always delicate, her voice soft, yet behind her graceful demeanor, you saw the cracks. You were there when Septa Mordane led her through the Red Keep’s throne room for a lesson in history. It was meant to be a glimpse into the glory of the Targaryens and the rulers of old, but instead, Sansa’s gaze lingered on the dark stain where her grandfather and uncle had been butchered by the Mad King. Her face paled, and she pressed her lips into a thin line, haunted by the ghosts of her own blood.

One evening, as she sat embroidering by the window, she confided in you. “Do you think I’ll be able to give Joffrey sons?” Her voice wavered. “What if… What if I’m only able to give him daughters, like Jeyne Poole’s mother?”

You tried to find reassuring words, though even Septa Mordane's attempts had done little to ease her fears. “You’re young, my lady. You will bear many children in time.”

Her blue eyes, wide with fear, met yours, but she said nothing more.

The Hand’s tournament arrived, and Sansa, despite everything, seemed to sparkle for a brief moment amidst the finery of the lords and knights. You stood in the shadows, watching her as she watched them. Ser Gregor Clegane, The Mountain, was a towering presence, and you felt a chill run down your spine as he unseated Ser Hugh of the Vale, killing him in the dust of the joust. Littlefinger whispered dark stories to Sansa of the Hound’s past, tales of burned flesh and brutal lessons. You saw the way Sansa’s hands trembled as she absorbed the horrors hidden beneath the chivalry.

Yet, there were moments of fleeting happiness. Ser Loras Tyrell, the famed Knight of the Flowers, gave her a single rose before his tilt with Ser Gregor. She blushed under his attention, but you noticed how Loras’s gaze lingered not on her, but on Renly Baratheon, who stood just behind. That small act of kindness, hollow as it was, brought a rare smile to Sansa’s lips, even as the court applauded Sandor Clegane’s intervention to stop his brother’s rampage.

But that brief joy was drowned by the darkness that soon followed. When King Robert Baratheon died after a hunting “accident,” everything unraveled. Eddard Stark, honorable as always, tried to reveal the truth about Joffrey’s parentage, but it was too late. You weren’t surprised when Littlefinger betrayed him. You had seen the cunning in his eyes long before, the way he played everyone like pieces on a cyvasse board. 

Chaos erupted. Eddard’s men, loyal to the last, were slaughtered by Lannister guardsmen led by Sandor Clegane. You remembered Mordane’s voice trembling as she urged Sansa to lock herself in their chambers. But there was no hiding from the Lannisters. They took her.

You watched from a distance as Sansa was humiliated before the court, her innocence crushed beneath the weight of Cersei’s cold cruelty. She stood there, trembling, and you saw the beginning of a transformation. The girl who once dreamed of knights and love was slowly breaking, her innocence being stripped away by every sneer, every command, every cold laugh in the throne room.

You wished you could offer her comfort, but in King’s Landing, comfort was as fleeting as mercy.

The great Sept was filled with the hum of whispers, the heavy weight of tension hanging in the air as Eddard Stark stood before the court. His face, weathered by years of honor and battle, now looked hollow, beaten by betrayal. You stood in the shadows, where servants always stood, your eyes flicking between the high lords and the northern Warden. As the silence fell, Eddard knelt, acknowledging his so-called “crimes” and pledging loyalty to King Joffrey.

For a moment, it seemed the court might breathe again. Sansa stood nearby, her hands trembling. Hope flickered in her eyes—briefly. But Joffrey, perched on the Iron Throne like some twisted boy-king out of a nightmare, leaned forward with a smile sharp as a blade. His words fell like a thunderclap. “Bring me his head.”

Sansa's scream cut through the hall, raw and broken. She lunged forward, hysterical, her voice lost in a storm of pleading, but the gold cloaks restrained her, forcing her back. Her cries—“Please, mercy, mercy!”—rang in your ears, making your stomach turn. 

Ser Ilyn Payne stepped forward, cold and unfeeling as he drew Ice, the greatsword of House Stark. You could see the light catch the edge of the steel, and the last thing Sansa saw before she fainted was her father’s final, resigned glance.

You moved through the chaos as a shadow. Your duty to Sansa came first, so as the blood pooled on the Sept’s floor, you carried her from the carnage, her limp body heavy with grief. The days that followed were hollow. She barely spoke, her eyes vacant as you tended to her, making sure she ate, dressing her in the Lannisters' silks even as her soul remained buried in sorrow.

It was one of those somber evenings when she finally spoke, her voice so faint you almost missed it. “Do you… serve the Lannisters?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You paused, setting down the tray of untouched food, meeting her tired gaze. “Yes, my lady,” you answered softly.

Sansa’s eyes flickered with something—confusion, maybe anger. “Have they always been this cruel?” she asked, her words trembling with an innocent horror.

You weighed your response carefully, then nodded. “From what I’ve heard, unfortunately, yes.”

Her lips parted as she considered your answer, but it was her next question that cut deeper. “Then why do you serve them?”

You lowered your eyes, your hands folding over the fabric of her gown, the lie of your position hanging heavy on your shoulders. “It’s something I wager on,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the unease in your chest.

Sansa, always perceptive, frowned. “Is that the only kind of wager you make?”

For a moment, you froze. Then you let a faint smile tug at the corner of your lips, the words “Unbowed, unbent, unbroken” echoing in your heart, though unspoken. “There was one time I bet my entire life on something,” you confessed quietly.

She looked at you then, truly looked, her tear-streaked face searching yours. “Did you win?”

Your smile faltered, but you met her gaze with a spark of determination. “I’m planning to,” you said, with a quiet promise hanging between the two of you.

KING’S LANDING, RED KEEP — 300 AC

The stone walls of the Red Keep felt colder that night, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the ancient stones. In a small, dimly lit chamber tucked away from the grand halls, you worked in silence, the weight of your plan pressing down like the calm before a storm. Every movement was deliberate, each thought sharper than the edge of a Valyrian blade. The game was already in motion, and you were setting the pieces in place.

You had long been underestimated—a mere servant, a shadow in the background of the powerful Lannisters, Tyrells, and Martells. Yet, you had seen the truth: the most dangerous players were often those who remained unseen. You were one of them, a silent force, blending into the background while carefully planting the seeds of destruction. The poison, subtle and undetectable, was your weapon.

A soft knock interrupted your focus. The door creaked open, and there stood Petyr Baelish—Littlefinger himself. His thin lips curved into a smile, but there was no warmth in it, only calculation.

“Ah, a quiet place for quiet minds,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk, eyes darting around the chamber before settling on you.

You raised your head slowly, meeting his gaze with a calm that belied the storm brewing inside you. Littlefinger wasn’t a man easily intimidated, but neither were you. Two wolves circling, each looking for the other’s weakness.

“You seem to find yourself in many quiet places, Lord Baelish,” you replied, voice soft but pointed. “What brings you here?”

He moved closer, his steps light, like a predator stalking prey. “Just ensuring the right wheels keep turning, ensuring the chaos that follows serves the right cause.” His gaze lingered on your hands, noting the fine movements as you handled a small vial, the liquid within almost imperceptibly shifting.

You allowed a small, knowing smile. “Chaos... Chaos can be useful. But only if it’s controlled.”

His eyebrow raised, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Controlled chaos? Now, that’s an art.”

You carefully set the vial down, your voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. “What if the chaos that’s already simmering were to boil over? What if, after Joffrey’s wedding, his reign came to an... unexpected end?”

Baelish didn’t blink, though you could see the subtle change in his posture, the slight narrowing of his eyes. You hadn’t suggested anything outright—it was the art of planting the idea, the delicate balance of nudging him without him realizing he’d been led.

He took a slow breath, his mind already racing. “And who, I wonder, would have the audacity to arrange such an unexpected end?”

You smiled, but didn’t answer directly, your silence speaking volumes. Instead, you moved the conversation forward, allowing the implication to sink in.

“The realm is already full of hungry wolves, my lord,” you said, your voice steady, your hands working deftly as you began to clear away your tools. “All it takes is a nudge in the right direction, and they’ll tear each other apart. No one will stop to notice who did the nudging.”

Littlefinger tilted his head, studying you for a moment longer. “Perhaps,” he mused, his tone as noncommittal as ever, “but wolves are tricky. You can never be sure which way they’ll turn.”

“That’s true,” you conceded, meeting his eyes directly. “But I’ve always been good at reading the pack.”

The silence that followed was heavy, each of you measuring the other, testing the boundaries. He wouldn’t act on your words immediately. Littlefinger was too careful, too meticulous for that. But you could see the spark in his eyes—the idea was there, planted, waiting to take root.

With a nod, he turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. “You have a dangerous mind,” he remarked, half admiration, half warning. “Be careful. The pack bites back.”

You gave him a knowing look. “Only if they see the one holding the leash.”

Days passed, and as you moved through the grand halls of the Red Keep, you watched everything begin to fall into place. Like a silent puppeteer, you pulled the strings without ever needing to step into the light.

Varys had been busy, moving pieces on the board that even you hadn’t expected. Ros had whispered in his ear, and soon after, Lady Olenna Tyrell had been brought into the fold. The whispers of a marriage between Sansa Stark and Loras Tyrell spread through the castle like wildfire. You had always known Varys to be a man of schemes, but even you marveled at how quickly he moved.

In the gardens, you overheard the conversations as they unfolded—subtle, quiet, but filled with power. Lady Olenna, with her sharp wit and keen mind, was already orchestrating her plans, likely envisioning a future without Joffrey’s cruel reign.

You stood in the shadows as Littlefinger passed by, his expression unreadable. He had heard your suggestion, and though you were not directly involved, you knew the idea had taken root. He would set things in motion, ensuring the chaos that followed would serve him—and you would remain unseen, untouched by the blood that would soon spill.

RED KEEP, WESTEROS – 301 AC

The War of the Five Kings dragged on, but within the Red Keep, the battles were far subtler, fought with whispers and veiled threats. Your life as a servant under King Joffrey's reign had grown increasingly unbearable. Between the relentless demands of court life and the constant fear of his cruelty, you found little time to care for yourself.

Your headache throbbed—a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since dawn, and the long days had begun to blur into endless nights. It wasn’t uncommon for you to push through these spells, but this time felt different. The world around you grew heavier, your limbs sluggish, and the gardens seemed far away.

Basket in hand, filled with fruit from the kitchens, you trudged through the Red Keep's gardens. The bright afternoon light stabbed at your eyes, worsening the pounding in your head. You tried to focus on your task, but each step felt more labored, and a cold sweat broke out on your skin.

As you rounded a corner near the overgrown hedges, your vision blurred. The world tilted. The cobbled path beneath your feet shifted into an unforgiving blur of stone and soil, and with a muffled thud, everything went black.

In that hazy in-between of consciousness, a voice pulls you back—familiar, though distant. “He would have liked you,” Princess Elia’s voice echoes in your mind.

“Whom do you speak of, my lady?” you had once asked her, back when the Red Keep still buzzed with life and not dread.

“My brother. Oberyn. He’s trouble, but even so, I love him dearly.”

For a brief moment, you can almost feel her presence, and the weight of the past rushes over you like a cold wave. You blink, pulling yourself out of the memory just as a different voice fills your ears. A deeper one, full of curiosity and something unreadable.

You woke slowly, your senses coming back in fragments: the scent of crushed grass, the cool air against your skin, and the distant murmur of voices. Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the filtered sunlight through the leaves overhead.

"Careful. Don’t rush."

The voice was deep, tinged with amusement. A hand—warm and strong—rested on your shoulder, gently holding you down. You blinked, focusing on the face above you, unfamiliar yet striking. Dark, sharp eyes, framed by lustrous and black with only a few silver streaks recede from his brow into a widow's peak. The emblem of a red sun pierced by a golden spear embroidered on his tunic caught your eye.

Oberyn Martell. The Red Viper of Dorne.

“Are you injured?” His voice held a soft curiosity as if you were some puzzle he intended to unravel.

You shook your head, still disoriented. "No, I... I must have fainted."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the basket of spilled fruit beside you. “It seems you’ve been overworking yourself. King Joffrey’s court, I assume? They’re not known for their kindness.”

A rush of embarrassment warmed your cheeks. You scrambled to sit up, but Oberyn’s hand remained firm.

“Take your time,” he said, his tone softening. “Even a servant deserves a moment to breathe.”

You weren’t used to kindness, especially not from someone of his stature. His reputation as a fierce and dangerous man preceded him, yet there was something else—an air of compassion, albeit hidden beneath his sharp edges.

“I’m... grateful,” you murmured, unsure of how to respond. “But I should get back to my duties. They won’t—”

Oberyn interrupted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let them wait. The Lannisters have their claws in many, but even a viper can strike when the time is right.”

There was a pause, a subtle shift in the air between you and Oberyn Martell. His gaze lingered a little longer than necessary, and though his words were casual, they held an undercurrent you couldn’t quite place. It was as though he saw something deeper in you, something more than just a servant tending to her duties. Fate, or perhaps something far more dangerous, had drawn his attention to you.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he stood upright, his dark eyes gleaming with a playful intensity. "You Dornish are known for our... passions," he said, his voice a low, deliberate purr. "But it seems fate has a way of placing beauty in my path, whether I ask for it or not."

You blink, unsure of how to respond, heat rising uncomfortably to your face. He stepped closer, his presence both magnetic and overwhelming. His fingers brushed lightly against your wrist, lingering there a moment longer than propriety would allow. "Tell me," Oberyn continued, his tone playful yet edged with something deeper, "does a woman like you often find herself fainting at the feet of princes? Or is this a rare occasion?"

Your breath hitched, panic flaring inside you, though you did your best to suppress it. Affection—let alone attention—was something you were unaccustomed to. His flirtation was like a wildfire, threatening to burn through the careful walls you'd built around yourself.

"I... I don’t..." you stammered, trying to pull your thoughts together, your mind racing. You weren’t used to being noticed, not like this, not by someone like him.

Oberyn tilted his head, his smirk widening as if he could sense the flurry of emotions raging within you. "Don't be shy," he murmured, voice lowering as his eyes roamed over you with quiet curiosity. "I can see there's much more to you than meets the eye." 

The words felt like a tease, a challenge wrapped in silk, and your heart pounded in your chest, caught between the instinct to flee or stand frozen in place. Oberyn Martell's gaze seemed to strip away every defense you had carefully built over the years, as though he could see straight through the mask of servitude you wore.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, steadying your trembling nerves. This was not the time to panic, not in front of the Red Viper of Dorne. He was too sharp, too dangerous, and your heart fluttered at the way his presence seemed to unsettle the very air around you.

Without answering the prince’s flirtatious remark, you bent down to hurriedly gather the fallen fruit, your fingers clumsy as you fumbled with the basket. But even as you moved, you felt his eyes on you, watching every motion with an almost predatory amusement.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he crouched beside you, his hand brushing yours as he handed you one of the scattered apples. "You're in quite the hurry," he murmured, the smirk never leaving his face. His touch lingered, deliberately slow as he placed the fruit in your basket.

You rose quickly, trying to distance yourself, but Oberyn stood just as swiftly. Before you could retreat, he grasped your wrist, pulling it gently toward him. His movements were fluid, effortless, as if this were a dance he had long perfected. He raised your hand to his lips, his dark eyes locked on yours, and pressed a kiss to your knuckles—his lips soft, warm against your skin.

Your breath caught, panic fluttering in your chest like a trapped bird. Heat crept up your neck, your heart racing as you tried to pull yourself together, but his touch seemed to set your mind spinning.

Just then, Oberyn’s eyes shifted, narrowing as he caught sight of something—your scars, peeking out from beneath your long sleeves. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, curiosity flashing across his features. He tilted his head, about to speak.

But you jerked your hand away, the sudden movement sharp, almost frantic. "I should go," you blurted, the words tumbling out hastily. You gathered your things, your pulse still thrumming wildly as you turned on your heel, desperate to escape his piercing gaze.

As you hurried away, you could feel Oberyn's eyes lingering on your retreating form, his expression unreadable. Even in your rush, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the prince wasn’t done with you yet.

KING'S LANDING, WESTEROS – 301 AC

The sun hung high over King’s Landing, its golden light casting a deceptive warmth over the cool sea breeze that drifted in from Blackwater Bay. You stood with Marei at the edge of the courtyard, the bustle of the palace below and the hum of the city distant beneath the tranquil air. The garden was alive with color, a stark contrast to the heavy gloom that clung to those gathered at the banquet table.

Shae moved with a quiet urgency, filling a plate with food from the banquet spread. She placed it in front of Sansa, who sat still, pale and lifeless, her face void of any spark. Her slender hands rested on her lap, unmoving. It was as if she had already become a shadow, despite still breathing.

“You need to eat something,” Shae urged softly, her voice carrying both concern and exasperation.

Sansa did not stir. 

“Pigeon pie,” Shae offered, her tone gentler now, but Sansa’s pale lips barely moved as she whispered, “No, thank you.”

A sigh escaped Shae, but she quickly turned back to the table, scanning for something else. With a quick motion, she removed Sansa's untouched plate and placed a new offering in front of her. “Lemon cakes?” Shae asked, a glimmer of hope in her voice. Everyone knew Sansa's love for lemon cakes.

Sansa’s voice, barely a whisper, responded again. “No, thank you.”

Shae’s expression faltered. “You love lemon cakes.”

But Sansa remained unmoved, as if the world around her had lost all meaning. Shae’s shoulders slumped in frustration, her eyes flicking toward you and Marei before glancing at the entrance of the courtyard.

Tyrion Lannister entered the garden with deliberate steps, his short legs struggling to match the long strides of the men he was often compared to. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the scene with quick efficiency. Despite his stature, you had learned well enough that Lord Tyrion Lannister was not a man to be underestimated. His mind was his sharpest weapon.

“Tyrion,” Shae called out to him with a sigh of relief. “Tell her she needs to eat.”

Tyrion approached the table, offering a small, polite smile. “My lady, you do need to eat.”

Sansa’s gaze remained fixed somewhere in the distance, her hands limp in her lap. “I don’t need to eat,” she said softly, without even looking at him.

Tyrion hesitated for a moment, glancing between Shae, you, and Marei. His expression was measured, patient. “Could I have a moment alone with my wife?” he asked gently, though his tone held the firmness of a command.

You exchanged a quick look with Marei before bowing your head and stepping away. Shae, however, lingered, her eyes flashing with concern and defiance. She crossed her arms, unwilling to yield.

“She needs to eat,” Shae said stubbornly, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Tyrion and Sansa. 

Tyrion met her gaze, his expression imploring, but Shae’s frustration was palpable. With one last glance at Sansa, Shae reluctantly turned and left the garden.

Tyrion took a seat across from Sansa, his eyes softening as he reached out to take her hand. His grip was gentle, but firm enough to draw her from her daze. “I can’t let you starve, Sansa,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with quiet compassion.

Sansa didn’t react. She stared past him, her blue eyes hollow, as if the world had dulled to nothing but gray. Shae, now at the far end of the garden, cast a furious glance back toward Tyrion, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

A FEW DAYS LATER

KITCHEN KEEP, KING'S LANDING — DAY

The kitchen was a chaotic blend of sounds and smells, with servants rushing around, preparing the feast for the garden party. You focused on your tasks, slicing fruits and arranging them neatly, hoping the repetitive motions would calm the unease bubbling in your chest. The Lannisters' garden parties always came with tension—too many eyes, too many secrets.

Serena, ever observant, moved beside you with a conspiratorial smile. Her presence had always been a quiet comfort, an unspoken pact between two women wronged by the same family. She nudged your side playfully, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the clattering pans and murmurs of other servants.

“Guess what I overheard in the gardens earlier,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of fresh gossip.

You glanced up, your curiosity piqued. “What is it now?”

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping even lower. “Tyrion and Lord Varys were having one of their secret little chats. Something about Shae.” She gave a sly smile before recounting the conversation she’d overheard, her voice adopting a mocking impression of Tyrion's measured tone.

“Lord Varys. Breakfasting with the king?”

Your hands paused over the fruit, recognizing the weight of that simple greeting. Serena continued, now mimicking Varys’ smooth, ever-cautious reply.

“I’m afraid foreigners aren’t welcome at such exclusive affairs,” she quoted, barely concealing a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smile that tugged at your lips. Tyrion and Varys—always circling each other, testing the limits of loyalty and power. Serena’s impression was spot on, and the dry chuckle she added to Varys’ line brought the exchange to life.

“Oh, to be foreign,” she muttered in Tyrion’s voice before glancing around the bustling kitchen with exaggerated suspicion, mimicking Varys’ quiet amusement.

“Ahem,” she finished with a soft laugh.

The kitchen clamor drowned out any chance of someone overhearing, but you kept your gaze fixed on your hands, focusing on the fruit before you. "What did they say after that?" you asked in a low voice, not wanting to appear too interested but knowing that information like this was often a lifeline in King's Landing.

Serena's smile dimmed slightly as she continued, her tone more serious now. “They were talking about Shae. Varys warned Tyrion that she’s been noticed. That Sansa’s maid saw them together, and it’s only a matter of time before Cersei—and worse, Tywin—find out.”

Your breath hitched slightly. That was dangerous—too dangerous for a place like this.

You glanced up at Serena, who nodded grimly. “Varys told Tyrion his father has promised to hang the next whore he’s found with.”

Your stomach twisted, though you managed to keep your expression neutral. Information like this could be a weapon if used correctly. But it also carried its own risks, especially for someone like you, who lived in the shadows of these powerful people. You simply nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

KING’S LANDING GARDEN, DAY — 301 AC

The gardens of the Red Keep, beautiful though they were, could not ease the tension that clung to the air. The lush greenery and sea breeze seemed wasted on the gathering before you, where cruelty simmered beneath the surface. You moved silently among the servants, pouring wine, offering trays of food, your head low as your sharp eyes observed everything. No one here was truly safe—not even those who smiled and pretended otherwise.

You had learned long ago to watch, to listen, to see things others missed. And here, among the so-called lords and ladies, your simmering hatred boiled just beneath the surface. Revenge had a way of lurking in quiet moments like these, waiting for the perfect opportunity.

At the head of the table sat King Joffrey, his golden crown glinting in the sun like a mockery of all that was just. Around him, the key players of the realm gathered: Queen Cersei, her eyes sharp and watchful; Lord Tywin, stoic and commanding as always; Prince Tommen, innocent and ignorant of the malice around him; and Grand Maester Pycelle, old and leering.

But your attention flickered to Sansa Stark. Pale, withdrawn, her once-vibrant spirit all but crushed under the weight of her suffering. She sat beside her husband, Tyrion Lannister, who, despite his small stature, radiated an awareness far sharper than anyone gave him credit for. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken grief they both carried.

Your heart tightened as you watched, knowing Sansa's pain was not unlike your own. Like her, you had learned to survive in silence, though your silence was of a different kind. The Lannisters had taken too much from you. They were going to pay for it one day, one way or another.

Across the table, Lord Mace Tyrell puffed out his chest, carrying a gleaming goblet, his voice filled with a pride that bordered on foolishness.

“From House Tyrell and the people of the Reach, Your Grace, it is my honor to present you with this wedding cup.”

He placed the goblet before Joffrey, who barely looked at it, his lips curling into a mocking smile.

“A handsome goblet, my lord. Or shall I call you Father?”

You noted how Mace Tyrell’s face flushed with both pride and unease. He bowed deeply. “I would be honored, Your Grace.”

As Mace withdrew, Shae moved gracefully through the crowd, setting a tray before Sansa. You saw how her eyes flickered toward the young girl, but there was no response from Sansa, no recognition of the kindness that once might have been there.

Then, the sharp voice of Queen Cersei pierced the moment, her words venomous.

“She’s the whore I told you about. The dark-haired one.”

Your blood boiled as you saw Shae stiffen. The insult cut through the air like a blade, but Shae, ever composed, turned to leave without a word. You noticed how Tywin’s cold eyes followed her, narrowing as she walked away.

“Have her brought to the Tower of the Hand before the wedding,” Tywin ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion, yet as sharp as a death sentence.

Tyrion’s face darkened. You could see the concern etched into his features, his helplessness as he tried to control a situation slipping further out of his grasp. Your heart raced, knowing the precarious game being played here—and how dangerous it was for all involved.

Shae’s departure was barely noticed as Podrick stepped forward, carrying a large tome. He placed it carefully before Joffrey, and Tyrion followed, a strained smile on his face as he addressed the king.

“A book,” Joffrey said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Tyrion clasped his hands together, speaking with calm civility. “The Lives of Four Kings. Grand Maester Kaeth’s history of the reigns of Daeron the Young Dragon, Baelor the Blessed, Aegon the Unworthy, and Daeron the Good. A book every king should read.”

For a brief moment, Joffrey hesitated. His sharp tongue seemed to fail him as the weight of the gift hovered in the air. But Tywin’s piercing gaze prodded him, and the boy-king forced a mocking smile.

“Now that the war is won, we should all find time for wisdom,” Joffrey said, his voice laced with scorn. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Tyrion bowed, but the tension between them crackled like a hidden storm.

Before anyone could breathe, The Mountain lumbered forward, carrying a sword swathed in black cloth. He laid it before Joffrey with all the reverence of a knight presenting a sacred relic. Tywin rose, his voice steeped in gravitas as he spoke.

“One of only two Valyrian steel swords in the capital, Your Grace, freshly forged in your honor.”

Joffrey’s eyes gleamed with an almost childlike excitement as he tore the sword from its sheath, its blade gleaming ominously in the sunlight. You felt a ripple of unease roll through the gathered nobles as the blade sliced through the air.

“Careful, Your Grace,” Pycelle croaked from his seat. “Nothing cuts like Valyrian steel.”

But Joffrey’s wicked grin only widened. “So they say.”

In a sudden, violent movement, Joffrey swung the sword down, cleaving the book Tyrion had gifted him clean in half. The sound of tearing parchment and splintering leather echoed through the garden. A gasp rippled through the crowd, but Joffrey was delighted with himself.

“Such a great sword should have a name,” Joffrey declared, his eyes burning with cruel glee. “What shall I call her?”

The crowd murmured suggestions, none of which seemed to please the boy-king. But then, his lips curled into a malicious grin.

“Widow’s Wail. I like that. Every time I use it, it’ll be like cutting off Ned Stark’s head all over again.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. You saw Sansa freeze beside him, her face drained of color, her entire body rigid with the memory of her father’s execution. Across the garden, Shae watched, her eyes narrowing with unspoken fury.

You kept your head down, but the seething rage inside you boiled hotter. One day, they would all pay for this. The Lannisters, their cruelty, their arrogance—it would all come crashing down. And you would make sure of it.

KING’S LANDING GARDEN, LATE AFTERNOON — 301 AC

The preparations for the royal wedding between Joffrey and Margaery were endless, consuming the days and nights of everyone within the Red Keep. But while others concerned themselves with the surface duties, your mind was preoccupied with a far more dangerous task.

The thought of the Strangler stones hidden within Sansa's necklace gnawed at you. The pieces were already in motion, each step methodically planned. Your hands moved through the flowers you were tasked with arranging, but your thoughts were elsewhere, carefully calculating the next move in your plot to bring down King Joffrey without implicating yourself. 

As you worked alone in the gardens, the late afternoon sun blazed overhead. The sweat clung to your skin, and the heat forced you to roll your sleeves up just enough to reveal the faint, jagged lines of scars that adorned your forearms. The burn scars, remnants of your brutal encounter with Ser Gregor Clegane, were still a reminder of what you endured—and survived. The pain was still fresh, but it fueled your resolve. Spite, after all, was a powerful motivator.

You barely noticed the approaching footsteps until a shadow fell across your path. Looking up, you were met with the sharp, knowing gaze of Oberyn Martell. His smirk was playful, as it often was, but there was something deeper there—an intensity that sent a ripple of unease through you. 

"You work too hard," he said smoothly, his voice like silk. "It’s a crime to see such beauty covered in dirt."

You straightened, brushing your hands on your apron, trying to keep the panic from showing. "I have my duties, my lord," you replied, keeping your tone even. The way Oberyn looked at you—intense, almost predatory—made your heart race, though you tried to remain composed.

He crouched beside you, plucking a flower from the arrangement and twirling it between his fingers. His eyes flicked briefly to the scars on your arm, scars you quickly moved to conceal by rolling down your sleeves. But it was too late—Oberyn’s gaze lingered on them for just a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression. 

The way he studied you wasn’t merely out of curiosity, but recognition. His next words carried a weight that hung in the air between you both. 

"There are stories... of a servant who once attended to Princess Elia." Oberyn’s tone remained casual, but you could feel the shift, the tension creeping in as he spoke. "They say she escaped the Sack of King’s Landing with her life. Barely."

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to remain still. You had heard those stories too. After all, you had lived them.

Oberyn leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Some say she vanished, swallowed by the chaos. Others claim she survived through sheer will, fueled by spite." His dark eyes locked onto yours, searching. "I wonder… do you know of such tales?"

The question lingered in the air, heavy with suspicion. You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, but your face remained a mask of composure. "Many stories are told in King’s Landing, my lord. Few of them hold any truth."

Oberyn’s lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes remained sharp, watching you carefully. "Perhaps," he murmured. "But then again, some tales are more dangerous than others." He stood up, still twirling the flower between his fingers, casting one last glance at your concealed scars. "Sometimes, survival speaks louder than words."

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted the moment. Ellaria Sand approached, her eyes already on you. There was a possessiveness in her gaze, though softened by intrigue.

“So this is the woman who has caught my prince’s eye,” Ellaria remarked, her voice a low purr as she moved closer, her hand brushing lightly against Oberyn’s shoulder.

You bowed your head, hiding the inner storm brewing within you. "My lady," you greeted, though the tension in the air was unmistakable.

Ellaria’s gaze flicked to Oberyn, then back to you. “She is different,” she said, her tone intrigued, but there was an edge of caution in her words. “I wonder what it is you see in her, my love?”

Oberyn chuckled softly, his attention still on you. “There’s something about her,” he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with deeper meaning. “Something familiar.”

Ellaria looped her arm through his, drawing him closer to her side. “Familiar or not, I trust you know where your loyalties lie.”

Oberyn’s smile deepened, but his gaze didn’t waver from you. "Always," he replied to Ellaria, but his words were aimed at you, and the unspoken suspicion between you both lingered in the air, unsaid but undeniable.

As the two of them moved off together, your heart pounded in your chest. Oberyn's words, the way he had looked at you—he was starting to piece it together. He suspected who you truly were, but for now, he remained silent, watching. You returned to your task, but the weight of his suspicion clung to you. 

Everything had only just begun, and you were already in far deeper than you had anticipated. But like the scars on your skin, the memories of your past had shaped you into what you were now. And just like that day long ago, you would survive.

TAGLIST:

@christinamadsen

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

This just fits the chapter so much LMFAOO

Chapter 6: The Shattered Crew 

A/N: 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (Here).

Sanji X Reader, OP X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

Y/N POV… 

Flying through the air, you feel the wind whip against your face, a sensation of soaring at a breakneck speed. “Am I dead?” you think, your mind struggling to grasp the surreal experience. Slowly, you open one eye, squinting through the haze to see the clouds above and the sea far below. Pain radiates through your body, each jolt reminding you of the injuries you've sustained.

“Why am I floating?” you wonder, the realization of what’s happened crashing down on you. “Kuma, my friends disappearing… Sanji’s kiss!” The memory of Sanji’s desperate, passionate kiss floods back, and a pang of rage hits you.Your mad at him because he just kissed you and launched you to Luffy. "Did he really just do that?!"

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as you crash-land onto an island. The impact is jarring, sending shockwaves of pain through your already battered body. The world spins and blurs as you lie there, succumbing to the exhaustion that finally overtakes you.

As you fade in and out of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people huddling over you. A hand gently touches your face, and you hear a muffled, urgent voice. “Take her to the village and quickly! Her injuries are far too much.”

Your vision darkens, and the last thing you feel is the gentle but firm touch of the strangers as they lift you. The world fades to black once more, and you succumb to the darkness, your mind haunted by the echoes of those you’ve lost. 

You wake up with a groan as the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. As your vision clears, you realize you’re in a hospital room. The sterile white walls and the soft beeping of medical equipment are unfamiliar.

You attempt to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through your body, causing you to cry out in agony. Almost immediately, a doctor and a male nurse rush into the room. The doctor’s face shows a mix of relief and concern, while the nurse has a reassuring smile.

“Good! You’re awake!” the doctor says, his voice warm but filled with urgency. “You were on the brink of death if it weren’t for our soldiers bringing you here!”

The nurse steps closer, adjusting your IV and checking your vitals. “You gave us quite a scare. We’re glad you’re stable now.”

Groaning, you try to focus on them, your mind still foggy from the recent events. “How long was I out for?” you ask, wincing as you move.

The doctor glances at the nurse before answering, “About a day.”

Your eyes bulge in shock. “A day?! I have to go!” You try to scramble off the bed, but the pain and weakness make your movements awkward and unsteady. “I need to get back to Sabaody! If you have a boat, I need to leave before the third day! All my friends will be waiting!”

The doctor moves to steady you, his expression turning serious. “I understand your urgency, but unfortunately, you’ll need to speak with the king of the island. He’s the one who grants permission for ships to leave. And he’s known to be the toughest fighter here.”

Your desperation is evident as you look up at him. “The king? How can I talk to him? I need to go now!” I went to reach my vivre card that was laying on the table next to you.  

The nurse steps forward, his expression sympathetic. “The king is a formidable warrior and a crucial figure here. It’s not easy to see him, and he’s known for being very strict about who he allows to leave. But if you want to get back to your friends, it’s the only way.”

The doctor nods in agreement. “We’ll arrange for you to meet with him as soon as possible. For now, focus on resting and recovering. Your health is the priority.”

You collapse back onto the bed, frustration and anxiety written all over your face. “Please, do everything you can to help me. I can’t afford to lose any more time.”

The nurse places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll do our best. Rest for now, and we’ll make sure you’re seen by the king as soon as possible.”

As the doctor and nurse leave the room to make the necessary arrangements, you lie back, your mind racing with worry for your friends and the time slipping away.

Sanji's POV…

"My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m..." A few hours before...

I’m struggling to open my eyes. The smell of the ocean lingers in the air, and I groan as I manage to lift my head slightly. Above me, a heart-shaped rainbow stretches across the sky. My body feels like it’s on fire, every muscle aching, as if I’ve been through a war.

Realization hits me after a few minutes. Kuma… My crew disappearing… And then… Y/N…

My eyes bug out of their sockets as I remember. "Y/N!" I shout, trying to leap up, but pain betrays my body, forcing me to stay on the sand. I’m exhausted, my body drifting in and out of consciousness. "Where the hell am I?" I mutter weakly.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A gentle voice reaches me, but it’s muffled. "Mister, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

I can’t make out what she looks like, my vision blurring as exhaustion takes over. I finally let it win, darkness swallowing me whole.

Some time later...

I wake up again, but this time, I’m resting in the lap of the same lady. She’s gently wiping the dirt and debris from my face with a handkerchief. Her scent is sweet, soothing, and for a moment, I’m lost in it. "Am I… in the lap of a beautiful woman?" I wonder aloud, my thoughts hazy. "Is it… Nami? Maybe Robin? Or perhaps Y/N?" My heart races at the thought, but no… it can’t be.

Despite my fatigue, I reach up, grinning like a fool, and grab her arm. “No way, I want to stay here forever.”

She freezes under my touch, and then, without a word, she gets up and runs away.

“Hey, wait a minute, come back!” I call after her, but she’s gone. I blink, sitting up. “I guess it wasn’t a dream…” I mutter, noticing the handkerchief she left behind. Flipping it over, I see the name ‘Elizabeth’ embroidered on it.

With a groan, I get up slowly, my body still weak, and start walking. "I still don’t have a damn clue where I’m at." I glance around, the scenery unfamiliar. "Maybe I died and gone to heaven?" I say, half-jokingly, though part of me wonders if it’s true.

Then, a sudden thought hits me. “I sense romance in the air,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head almost immediately. "No, no, I can’t think of such things like that." I take out my vivre card and look at it, the reminder of what’s truly important. "Nami, Robin, and Y/N are waiting for me."

I sigh, a heartfelt, conflicted sigh, clutching the handkerchief to my chest. "But the least I can do is thank her for her kindness!" I declare, determination sparking in my tired body. After all, a gentleman must always be courteous to a lady.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I started running in the direction the woman—Elizabeth—had gone. My heart pangs with guilt as I imagine the looks on Nami, Robin, and Y/N’s faces. “Nami, Robin, Y/N… please forgive me for being unfaithful,” I whisper under my breath, but I keep running, hoping to find Elizabeth and express my gratitude. 

Y/N POV: 

You continue to stare at the vivre card Shakky handed you, watching the small piece of paper begin to slowly move. With a sigh, you gaze out the window from your bed, wondering where everyone else landed and hoping they were all safe. "I wonder what the crew is doing," you mutter, the words heavy with longing.

Finally, you manage to stand and walk slowly to the mirror. The reflection that meets you is almost unrecognizable—a shell of the person you once were. Your hair is disheveled, your body wrapped in bandages, and your right thigh, where the bandage is beginning to unravel, reveals a small scar. A constant reminder of what happened that day.

You shake your head, trying to push the dark thoughts away. "No," you whisper to yourself. "Now is not the time to mope. I have to keep going." Just as you're about to put on your clothes, the door opens, and the male nurse enters. A faint blush creeps across his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you. Realizing your predicament, you quickly grab the sheets from the bed and wrap them around yourself, securing your body.

The nurse stumbles over his words, trying to explain, "Your clothes were too damaged to wear, so I brought some traditional wear for you." You look at the clothes, puzzled, given that this is a male-only island. The shirt looks more like a dress but fits you nicely. As you start to speak, the nurse cuts you off, "They belong to my sister, actually. We weren't always an all-male island... but for some reason, all the women suddenly disappeared."

You step forward, wrapping your arms around the nurse, feeling the hesitation in his body before he slowly relaxes and returns the embrace. His warmth offers a small comfort in the midst of all the chaos you've endured.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "For everything. I can't imagine what it's like to lose so many people, especially your sister... But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to help, starting with this challenge."

The nurse holds you a little tighter before letting go, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "You remind me of her," he says quietly. "Strong, determined... She would have liked you."

Before you can respond, the male doctor enters the room, his expression serious but not unkind. "The King has an opening tonight," he informs you, his gaze flicking briefly to the nurse before returning to you. "It’s rare for someone to get a chance to face him so soon, but you’ll need all your strength. He's known to be the toughest fighter on the island."

You nod, determination hardening your resolve. "Okay," you say, glancing between the doctor and the nurse. "Let’s go. I need to get back to my crew, and if facing the King is the way to do it, then I’m ready."

The nurse gives you a small, encouraging smile. "We’ll be with you every step of the way," he says, his voice full of quiet strength. "Just... be careful. The King isn’t someone to take lightly."

You offer him a reassuring smile, despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "I’ll be careful," you promise, "but I won’t back down. My friends are waiting for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to them."

With that, you gather your blades, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Sanji POV… 

After a few minutes, I arrived at a quaint home that matched the style of Elizabeth's handkerchief. Knocking on the door, I made my presence known. "Lady Elizabeth, it's me, Sanji," I called out. "I came here to return your handkerchief."

I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the floor as someone approached from the other side. The door creaked open, and just as I flashed my best smile, she yanked the handkerchief out of my hand and retreated back inside.

"Hey, you never let me say thanks!" I called after her, trying to keep my cool. "Don’t rush, Sanji. She’s probably a shy and innocent girl. Be cool, have a little patience." I continued to talk to her behind the closed door, trying to engage her in conversation.

Elizabeth, from the other end, began asking me a series of questions, which I eagerly answered. She seemed particularly curious about dresses. I paused for a moment, pondering her interest, and then it hit me—she must be trying to make a love connection. The thought brought a grin to my face.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Elizabeth stood there, inviting me inside. Stepping into her home, I started to flirt, my charm in full swing. Her back was turned to me, and I imagined her blushing from my words. But then, she abruptly turned around and ran towards me.

"Oh, Elizabeth! Leap into my arms, love struck—" I began, but before I could finish, she shoved an outfit into my arms, catching me completely off guard. The force of it sent me sprawling flat on my back.

Confused, I looked up as Elizabeth leaned over me, a mischievous grin on her face. "This outfit would look amazing on you," she declared.

I blinked, my mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Then, it dawned on me—this wasn't the romantic encounter I had imagined. "Wait a minute… What’s going on here?"

Elizabeth straightened up, her grin widening. "Welcome to Kamabakka Kingdom," she said, her tone cheerful but with an edge that sent chills down my spine.

Panic gripped me as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just any island—this was that island. 

My eyes widened, and without another word, I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the door. "My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m—well, how do I put this..."

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart pounding in my chest as the gravity of my situation sank in. I have to get out of here… and fast!

Y/N POV…

You begin to exit the hospital quarters, the sunlight filtering through the leaves as you stretch your arms out, feeling the pull of your muscles. It’s a small comfort after being bedridden for so long. Before heading to the King's quarters, you glance back at the nurse. "Is there an isolated area where I can practice with my blade before meeting the King?"

The nurse nods and leads you to a secluded part of the island. The clearing is quiet, with only the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of waves. Perfect. You unsheathe your blade, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you step into the clearing and begin to move, launching blow after blow with precision and speed. Your blade slices through the air, cutting trees left and right with swift, effortless movements. The sound of wood splintering echoes around you as you continue to push yourself, testing your limits.

"Still got it," you mutter with a smirk, satisfied with your performance.

Both the male doctor and nurse stand still, their eyes wide in admiration. Despite your injuries, you wield your blade with deadly precision. Maybe, just maybe, this will be enough to defeat the King.

You sheath your blade with a confident flourish and turn to the medics. Grinning, you tell them, "Now, shall we?" They nod, preparing to lead the way, but before you can take a step, you hear a distant coo.

You pause, recognizing the sound. "A news coo?" you wonder aloud. Curiosity piqued, you reach out and grab the newspaper it drops. Unfolding it, your eyes scan the headlines, and suddenly, your heart stops.

"Ace… Ace has died at Marineford. And Luffy… Luffy was there trying to rescue him."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Luffy!" you yell, your voice trembling with shock.

The medics exchange worried glances. "Luffy? What happened?" the nurse asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You can barely speak, your mind racing with the implications of what you’ve just read. Shaking, you release the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. "No… This can’t be happening."

The urgency of the situation hits you like a tidal wave. There’s no time to waste. You need to get to Luffy, to find out if he’s safe. Your heart pounds in your chest as you make a decision. "I need to get a ship. Now."

The doctor steps forward, a determined look on his face. "We'll help you, but you have to stay focused. If you want to defeat the King, you can't let your emotions get the better of you."

You nod, trying to steady your breathing. "I understand… but Luffy is my captain, my friend. I have to know he's okay."

The nurse, his expression softening, places a hand on your shoulder. "We’ll get you to the King, and once you’re finished, we’ll help you find a way off this island."

You take a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Thank you," you say, your voice resolute. "Let’s go."

As you follow the medics towards the King's quarters, your thoughts are consumed by the news of Ace and Luffy. Your grip tightens around your blade. Luffy… just hold on. I’ll find you. I promise.

Kings Quarters…

You arrive at the King’s quarters, taking in the sight of men being carried out, each one more battered than the last. You let out a low whistle, then turn to the nurse. "You weren’t kidding... actually, I never got your names?"

The nurse and doctor exchange glances before the nurse smiles and says, "I’m Sam," and the doctor adds, "And I’m John."

A smile crosses your face as you nod, revealing your own name. Their eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, they seem stunned. You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks, but before you can say more, you hear the booming voice of the King.

"Who dares challenge me next?" he bellows.

You glance at Sam and whisper, "He’s so young."

Sam nods, explaining, "He took the throne at 20 after his father passed.Hes been King for about 8 years now"

The King's eyes fall on you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "A woman? There haven’t been any women on this island for ages. You think you can challenge me?"

Without a word, you draw your blade and execute a swift, precise movement. The air around you crackles as the force of your strike splits a nearby stone pillar in two. The room falls silent, and the King’s smirk fades, replaced with a look of intrigue. 

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze. "You’ll find that I’m more than capable, Your Majesty. I’m here for a ship, and I intend to earn it.”

Amused, the King rises from his throne, descending the steps to face you directly. "Impressive," he says, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Let’s see if you can back up that skill in battle." 

The fight begins with a tense silence as the King, without drawing any weapons, assumes a combat stance. You tighten your grip on your blade, determined to give everything you have.

As you launch the first strike, the King effortlessly dodges, his movements swift and precise. He counters with a punch aimed straight at your midsection. The force of the blow is overwhelming, knocking the wind out of you as you cough up a bit of blood.

From the sidelines, Sam watches in horror. "John, I’m worried," he whispers, his voice shaking. "She’s strong, but the King… he’s something else."

You grit your teeth, pushing through the pain, and manage to land a strike on the King's cheek. But before you can feel any sense of victory, he slams his fist into the ground, splitting the room into two. Shocked, you mutter, "How did he do that?"

The King doesn’t give you time to recover. He comes at you with a relentless barrage of blows, each one heavier than the last. You struggle to keep up, your body growing weaker with each impact. Finally, a powerful punch sends you crashing to the ground, and your vision starts to blur. The sound of cheering male voices fills the room as you fade in and out of consciousness.

Just as Sam moves to help you, the King notices and orders his men to seize him. "Throw him in the pit!" the King commands, his voice cold and merciless.

Sam struggles against the soldiers, fear evident in his eyes. As they drag him toward the pit, you summon the last of your strength, forcing yourself to stand. The world spins around you, but you refuse to let Sam suffer. With a surge of adrenaline, you yell, "Sam, duck!" and with one swift movement, you strike down each soldier, sending them plummeting into the pit instead.

Sam looks up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Why did you help me?" he asks, his voice trembling.

You sheathe your blade and offer him a faint smile. "You helped me when I was injured. We’re friends now."

With that, you and Sam help each other up and make your way out of the chamber, John quickly joining your side. As you exit, you can feel the King’s gaze on you. He watches the entire scene with a smirk, turning to his men. "Who is she?" he asks, his tone laced with curiosity. "And what was she doing on this island?"

>

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OMG!!! Looks like things are about to be good! For this chapter, I wanted to pace it the same way as the anime had it. Sanji heading to Kamabakka Kingdom always makes me laugh so much! Next Chapter will be funny. Sanji is going to meet with Ivankov, and their interaction will be funny. You also are getting another news coo paper which will then reveal the fate of the strawhats crew. Thank you guys for following, sharing, reblogging, and liking my Story! I can't wait for y'all to read what's next! As always the chapters are all linked. See you Tomorrow!

[tinietaehyun]

Forsaken [XVI]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader] [Series] [Finale - Chapter Sixteen]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader

Genres: Fantasy, romance, fluff, angst, action, royal!au, supernatural, enemies to lovers.

Contains: Profanity, suggestive/mature themes, mentions of injury, punishment, death.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: Thousands of adoring gazes peer up at you as you stand in your stone balcony. Your words leave your lips loudly as you make your grand speech. Blood rushes through your body in anticipation and nervousness. You were going to become the ruler of the Kingdom of Fortuna.

This was what you had worked so hard for. To earn your rightful place as the heir to the throne. You peer back behind you momentarily for reassurance. You spot the familiar billow of a black cloak and your gaze meets his sharp eyes which held nothing but admiration and pride. Taehyun smiles at you reassuringly.

You truly felt complete in this moment of time. All the hardship you faced, was completely worth it. You were honoured to become a monarch, but you were more so honoured to have such a man who you could call your own.

With shaky breaths you peer down as the golden, jewel-encrusted scepter and orb within your hands. The roar of the people fill your eardrums with a ferocity that you’ve never heard before. The kingdom of Fortuna had been through a lot of peril these last few months having lost their longtime monarchs, their prince, and their princess on the run. It was all finally settled, it is finally time for Fortuna to enter a new era, a new dynasty. An era in which your name would be the determining factor.

With a deep exhale, you finish the remnants of your speech, “With utmost resilience and honour, I shall uphold the rules and commandments set by my forebears, and exalt my nation, the land of innovation and sorcery, Fortuna, and thrust forth this land into one of prosperity and developments for all it’s people.” A mighty roar emits from the crowd below your balcony. The people from the kingdom have gathered in the courtyard, through the gates and beyond to witness the long-awaited coronation.

Well, that was the end of your rehearsed speech. Your treasurer smiles, “The scepter and orb, your majesty? You’re done?” You hesitate for a moment, you want to say something genuine to your people. You truly did fight long and hard for this position. “One moment, treasurer, I wish to speak a few more words.” He nods with a bow stepping back as you hand him the scepter and orb.

With a might bellow you call out, “Fortuna! Can you hear me?” A gargantuan sound of applause and cheer responds back to you sending chills down your body. “Louder!” You call out with glistening eyes and shaky hands; these were truly your people. The people who had their hopes and sights set on you to henceforth lead the kingdom. Your parent’s wishes could finally be honoured.

“I am honoured to be your Queen. Your ruling monarch. I will do my utmost best to ensure fairness and ensure prosperity for everyone in our nation. I ask that you look after me, take me in as not only a ruler, but a guardian, a caretaker. I wish to support you all, and become a ruler whose name you can speak with pride for ages to come.” A supreme cheer erupts at your words and your eyes water as you peer at the adoring eyes of the people below. You felt loved, adored, looked up to.

As the people are escorted out by the knights you peer around seeing a figure leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed, dressed in pure black as usual. His cloak flaps elegantly in the breeze as his blonde hair strikingly grabs your attention against the grey background. His beautiful visage peers back at you; a smirk lining his rosy lips.

“Huh, well look at that. You did it,” Taehyun hums amused. You can’t help but grin like a fool rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. A chuckle escapes his lips, “Where’s the woman who said she’d mess up her speech? What was that at the end? A little bit of improvisation even? Impressive, sweetheart.” You nuzzle into his chest, a content feeling blossoming in your chest. You really hoped the people resonated with your words.

“I suppose…when I saw all their faces, I just had to say something. Something meaningful, from my heart,” you murmur against his chest. He cups the back of your head with a smile, “It was sweet, sappy, but I suppose sweet.” You roll your eyes, “You liked it.” “Maybe,” he hums.

A moment of silence passes as you continue to hug each other, enveloped in each other’s warmth. “Mm, I’m hugging the Queen of Fortuna, what a rare occasion,” Taehyun muses. You peer up at him with a smirk, “You should be honoured, my dear sorcerer.” He corrects, “Royal Sorcerer, sweetheart. Get the designation right, will you?” You chuckle, “Oh my sincerest apologies.”

His hands slide to your waist, “Mm, have I told you how good this gown looks on you,” his eyes scan down your face, neck, to your neckline where it lingers ever so slightly before his eyes scan further down. Taehyun releases a pleasant hum, “Mm, a sight for sore eyes indeed.”

A warmth overtakes your cheeks as you huff, “Oh hush.” He muses, “As Queen, you’ll have to get used to much higher praise than that, my lady.” You groan, “Oh stop that, I’m still the same to you.” He teasingly smiles at you, peering down and meeting your gaze, “Is that so, your majesty?” You lightly smack his chest.

He nestles into your neck, his lips glide along the curve of your neck as he inhales your scent deeply. His fingers squeeze your waist and he murmurs, “To think I get to have the Queen of Fortuna all to myself, hm.” You wrap your arms around his neck and intertwine your fingers into the back of his hair, “Mhm, aren’t you lucky?”

“Very,” he hums against your neck, placing a quick peck against your skin. He resumes with another few fluttering kisses up your neck before his lips reach your ear, “Though, it amuses me that I’m the only one who can give orders to the Queen.”

You raise a brow, “How so?” Taehyun smirks his hand raising to your cheek as he caresses it with his thumb, “Mm? You don’t remember? I recall how well you followed orders last night.” Heat races up your neck and body as memories of last night, a few nights back and before-

A shiver runs through you; his hands over your body, around your neck, waist, hips, legs, leaving not an inch unexplored. Taehyun seemed to be passionate lover, that particularly in your chambers for the last two, three weeks. You still remember how cautious you two were with your first time, as though newly hatched ducklings exploring new territory.

Though… after getting the grip of things, it turns out Taehyun very quickly learnt what made your body tick and writhe. Fortunately, or unfortunately for you, his sinful touch was something you couldn’t get enough of.

His tongue wets his lips as he peers at you, “Hm, gone quiet? Thinking about anything, sweetheart?” You huff, “No; it’s far too improper to be speaking so crudely here after being coronated.”

Taehyun muses, “Oh is that so? Well, my sincerest apologies, your majesty,” he leans in with a wicked smile, “I’ll make it up to you later. Hm? Consider it my way of celebrating you becoming Queen.” You shiver and Taehyun can’t help but smirk.

“Your majesty! Royal Sorcerer! Please make your way to the dining hall, the other nobles await your presence for the feast,” a maidservant calls out and you nod with smile, “We’ll be right there.”

You take his hand enveloping his over yours, “Come let’s go, that feast won’t eat itself.” Taehyun grins, “Oh it won’t, but I will. I’m famished after hearing you talk on and on in that coronation speech of yours.”

You scoff, “That’s just how things are, it’s not my fault that it’s rather dull.” He shrugs, “Hm, maybe you should change things now that you have the power to.” You roll your eyes with an exasperated smile, “How insignificant of a qualm.”

With a grandiose feast and much chatter, the day passes with much happiness and festivities. Things were looking good for Fortuna. You still had many matters to attend to however, you need to appoint more members for the Royal Court. You need to get up to date with a few more things and modify a few things here and there.

“Your majesty, there’s a latecomer who insistent to see you,” a maid requests as you eat beside Taehyun. You question, “Now? Is it a noble? Surely it can wait until after the feast?”

The maid responds, “Someone by the name of Choi Soobin? He claims to know the two of you personally. He appears to be a sorcerer. He has travelled from Luna. He’s currently by the gates. Should we allow him in, your majesty?”

Taehyun’s eyes widen in utter shock along with yours. Soobin! Taehyun gets up with a clatter alerting the other nobles and he murmurs, “You continue eating, I’ll be back.” Before you could respond, he speeds off. You can’t help but shake your head and smile.

The young man awaits by the gates with a bored expression and a hint of regret. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Too late, he had already come this far!

“Soobin! Soobin!” Taehyun calls out rushing towards him with glimmering eyes. Soobin is gobsmacked by Taehyun’s genuine smile; a stark contrast to that of his usual cold and icy demeanor.

“Taehyun, wow, I-“ Soobin stammers peering at Taehyun who seems to glow, wearing an ornate black cloak and clothes. He seemed healthier, and most importantly happier. “You…you look happier,” Soobin muses.

Taehyun hums composing himself immediately, “Ah well, that’s because I am. Y/n is finally coronated.” Soobin grins, “Indeed, I’d like to say my congratulations to her.”

Taehyun nods, “She’d be happy to see you. I..I’m surprised. Beomgyu outright refused the coronation invitation. I never thought I’d see you here, in Fortuna of all places.” Soobin smiles awkwardly, “Well you’re going to have to get used to seeing me around a lot more often.”

Taehyun freezes. More often? “Wait? More often? You mean…” Soobin nods with excitement brimming in his eyes. “You’re here to stay? In Fortuna?” Taehyun exclaims joyfully. Soobin muses, “Well, yes. I am. Is there room in the Sorcerer’s Tower for one more?”

Taehyun grins, “Oh well, if you pass the practical entrance exam sure.” Soobin scoffs, “Oh let me guess, who’s in charge of that.” Taehyun cockily hums, “Mm, I’ll make it easy, I promise. So what, you fucked over Beomgyu by leaving? Weren’t you his only sorcerer?” Taehyun snickers.

Soobin snorts, “Ah well, I guess you could say that. Since the both of you teleported out of there, he’s was completely enraged. Threw a whole tantrum for the first few days, took his anger out on the staff. He calmed down and he even started suspecting me of colluding with you both. I figured, I idolised him too much, and found out about his true colours when you both arrived there. I was in denial for quite a bit before making the decision to leave.”

Taehyun hums processing his words, “Surely he wouldn’t let you go so easily?” Soobin muses; “Oh, you’re right about that. He didn’t. So I did what a particular friend taught me by leaving a note with me.” Taehyun’s eyes widen in recollection; he had left a copy of the teleportation spell with Soobin.

Taehyun bursts out laughing, “You fucking teleported out of there? Oh, he must be going insane!” Soobin laughs, “Oh, believe me, he’s still reeling in from the moment he got y/n’s coronation invite.”

Taehyun shrugs, “She wanted to be polite, but I think it came off as petty, which is even funnier.” Soobin snickers, “Honestly it is. I feel free, it feels good to be back home. To see you.” Taehyun smiles, “It’s good to see you too. You made a good choice Soobin.”

“You think we can make up for the years of lost time?” Soobin asks. Taehyun muses, “Well, that depends if you pass the entrance exam. Then perhaps.” Soobin groans, “You’re ruthless, Taehyun.”

After a moment, Soobin speaks up, “About…Yeonjun…” Taehyun frowns, “Oh I’ve got a lot to say.”

“You mind filling me in?” Soobin murmurs. Taehyun hums, “Let’s get you something to eat first, and then I’ll tell you, alright?” Soobin nods, beginning to walk beside Taehyun into the palace.

With much commotion, you greet Soobin brightly and are overjoyed to hear he wishes to join the Sorcerer’s Tower. You all eat with much joy and festivity surrounding you as you catch and fill each other in.

“I’m just going to take Soobin up to the tower, alright?” Taehyun says as Soobin observes the two of you with a smirk. You nod with a gleaming smile seeing Taehyun’s glimmering eyes, “Sure. You look so cute when you’re happy like this, Taehyun.”

Soobin snorts as Taehyun scoffs slightly flustered, “I appreciate the compliment but perhaps in private, next time.”

Soobin dismissively waves and grins, “Ah, no, don’t pay me any attention, your majesty. He’s always been so welcoming to compliments and praise, but it’s intriguing to see him so suddenly shy. By all means continue.” Taehyun deadpans, “Very funny, huh.” Soobin shrugs, “Consider me a mere fly on the wall.”

Rolling his eyes, Taehyun bids you well as he escorts Soobin towards the tower and up the winding staircase. “Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve climbed these stairs,” Soobin reminisces slightly out of breath.

Taehyun murmurs, “That’s exactly how I felt climbing up here again, after-after everything that’s happened.” Soobin frowns, “Must have been surreal for you.”

Taehyun nods with a melancholy expression, “It’s all my father’s hardwork, his legacy in this tower. How could it not be?” Soobin agrees, “Well, you’re back in your rightful place.”

“Oh yes, where’d I leave off at the table?” Taehyun questions, “Oh right, I just finished telling you all about me confronting Yeonjun in the throne room.”

“Yes, how deranged he was,” Soobin grimaces with a shudder. “Yes, well afterwards, he got treated by the healers and then promptly whisked into the dungeons below. He still awaits trial since the selection of new court members is going on at the moment,” Taehyun explains drearily as he pushes open the wooden door. Soobin’s eyes widen as he takes in his surroundings. Nostalgia slams into him as memories flash in his mind.

“Oh, we also rescued y/n’s personal knight and commander, Hueningkai. He was in terrible condition truly, Sehun did a number on him with the wardens and their whips. I felt bad, he…no one deserves such a punishment for staying loyal to the right person.” Soobin nods solemnly.

“Have you…spoken to him since then?” Soobin tentatively asks. Taehyun shakily hums as he takes a stool and sits down beside the desk. His eyes flicker to the famous spellbook - his father’s spellbook. It was finally within his possession, as it rightfully should be. A faint smile appears on his lips as he gazes upon it.

“I have. Two weeks after the incident occurred, I went down to the dungeons to see Yeonjun,” Taehyun finally responds. “I can’t imagine it went down well,” Soobin dryly muses, taking a seat beside him. Taehyun snorts, “Well it went better than expected, he didn’t lunge at me, which was better than what I had initially predicted. He seemed pretty dull, lifeless almost.”

“Well I would be too, if all my life’s work and effort got singlehandedly torn to shreds and ripped away from me,” Soobin muses. Taehyun shrugs, “Well it’s not my issue that he took such a tumultuous path.”

“What’d he say?” Soobin leans forward, curiosity brimming in his eyes. “Well…” Taehyun begins as he looks back on the bitter memory.

With begrudging steps, Taehyun walks down the grim hallway through the dungeons. The echo of his footsteps resound as he walks past the guards and a few other convicts. He remembers this place well, he was locked in here briefly with his father all those years ago.

He continues to walk forward and his breath hitches seeing a pale, unfortunately familiar face. His blonde locks sticking to his forehead from the humidity down here. Yeonjun had grown paler, weaker and had most noticeably lost weight. It pained him to see him like this; it was odd, most may think Taehyun would be happy to see such a person getting their well-deserved punishment. However the sight stung for Taehyun.

Yeonjun peers up, finally taking note of the sleek boots that stood outside the bars of his cell. His jaw clenches and his gaze darkens malevolently. “…tch,” escapes his lips bitterly. Taehyun steps forward and murmurs coldly, “Are you open to talking to me?”

“Do I have a choice?” Yeonjun spits harshly. Taehyun scoffs, “You do. If you don’t want me to, or if you’re going to ignore me, then I won’t waste my breath here.”

Yeonjun looks away with a bitter laugh, “It doesn’t matter. You’re here to boast your victory. I see you’re all dressed up, has the princess been spoiling you, Taehyun?”

Taehyun grits his teeth, becoming increasingly agitated by Yeonjun’s condescending speech. Even after he’s locked up, going to soon face a terrible trial, he has the nerve to be acting this way with no remorse!

“I am not here to boast, or declare victory. There’s nothing to be pleased about. I’ve lost someone who I called my best friend,” Taehyun mutters. Yeonjun laughs sharply, “Best friend? You lost him ages ago.”

The words sting Taehyun, “I know. But it feels like I’ve lost you again. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’re so caught up in trying to become someone better, more powerful, superior.”

Yeonjun scoffs, “Power is the key to being respected. To be admired. No one can look down on you when you’re at the top.”

Taehyun snaps, “All because your father demeaned you? Are you excusing the fact that your father falsely accused mine of assassinating the King and Queen? That you knew everything that was happening? That we got exiled because of that? That your father, and then you, stole everything that he worked for?” Yeonjun icily glares at Taehyun who seethes. He nonchalantly murmurs, “You were lucky, they didn’t execute him.” Taehyun snarls gripping the bars of the cell door, “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Yeonjun’s lips curl into a feeble grin, “Still, I see your temper hasn’t changed, old friend.” Taehyun’s jaw clenches as he realises he’s succeeding in getting a rise out of him - a final attempt at asserting power over him.

Taehyun breathes, calming himself, “It didn’t have to be this way. None of this could have occurred, if we just talked things out. If you told me about what your father planned to do. You could…you could have been raised with me. I considered you like a brother. We’ve seen each other since we were children, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun remains silent peering away with a bitter remark, “As if. You were so self-absorbed. As if you cared what I was going through with my father. You’d have told me to tough it out, like everyone else. That he was merely trying to raise me to be an excellent sorcerer,” Yeonjun’s hands form fists as he shakily snaps, “How the fuck do you expect me to talk to you? When you were the sole cause for the way I was being treated? It’s always been you. Favoured by everyone. A prodigy, excelling in everything you do. Even my father wished I was more like you.”

Taehyun remains silent processing the words; a tense sadness permeates in his chest. Yeonjun had felt inferior for a long time, especially at such a vulnerable age. His father utilised that insecurity; bastard. Yeonjun runs his fingers through his hair agitated, “Do you know how fucking sickening it was to be constantly compared to you? To be told I’d be made your apprentice after you took over your father’s position. To practice a spell for hours, only for you to grasp it within half an hour or less.”

Yeonjun shifts glaring at Taehyun, “Everything about you, just fucking infuriated me.” The words cut deep into Taehyun as he stands blankly. Taehyun murmurs, “I… Yeonjun. I’m sorry, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Admittedly at some moments, I enjoyed the rivalry we had, sometimes, I knew you were jealous. But I didn’t know the extent to which you were affected by it.”

Yeonjun sneers, “Of course you wouldn’t.” A sharp laugh escapes his dry lips, “Oh the look on your face when I started hanging out with Sehun. Oh, that day I realised how good it felt to see you yearn for me. To see you frown. To see you miserable, not me for once.” Taehyun reminisces bitterly, the terrible nostalgia filling his senses once more.

“I put up with that idiotic stuck-up piece of shit for years, built my reputation, my skill, my connections so carefully, all towards my final goal. A goal in which even my own fucking father would have to bow to me, all for you to ruin it. You always do. You always snatch everything away.”

Yeonjun snarls clambering at the bars startling Taehyun, “Why couldn’t you just let me have this one fucking thing? I wouldn’t rule as a tyrant. I’m not a fool, I would have maybe even had mercy and let you two run away together. If you had jusr let me have the damn crown.”

Taehyun processes his words and a smirk lines his lips, “Let us run away? I’m not a fool, Yeonjun. You’re paranoid. You’d have killed me and Y/n the moment we let our guards down. You always think I’m out for you when I’m not.” Yeonjun’s gaze darkens as his grip tightens around the bars, “Fuck you.”

Taehyun resolutely responds, “I feel like I’ve gotten to understand you better. You’re broken, as harsh as it is to say, your father really did a number on you. Regardless of your upbringing it does not excuse the murder of Y/n’s parents, Sehun, treatment of Hueningkai, the manipulation of the people of Fortuna. Especially my father’s exile. My exile. None of this is worth what you wanted, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun mutters darkly, “You’ll never get it.”

“Neither will you, Yeonjun, I can see that now,” Taehyun murmurs solemnly. He resumes, “I wanted to talk to you, to see how you were doing. If…If you felt anything, any guilt, remorse. Anything at all. A hint of wanting redemption.”

Yeonjun remains silent; Taehyun’s words echoing in his mind. “Even the moment we fought, I felt terrible about it. That I had to hurt you, your hand, I…I couldn’t sleep for a week. Despite all you’d done, I still felt guilty. I wished I could have done more for you, Yeonjun,” Taehyun says with a pained frown.

“I…I- it felt like my mind was searching for any fucking reason to forgive you; maybe give you another chance. But no, time and time again you made it worse. I had to stop you. Stop you before you hurt even more people, before you hurt yourself further.” Taehyun shakily grits out.

“Save your fucking pity,” Yeonjun seethes. Taehyun shakes his head sighing, “I wanted to forgive you, Yeonjun. Being the better person. But in this circumstance, I don’t think I can. You’re not deserving of the salvation that is being forgiven.”

Yeonjun slouches back; a hollow look in his eyes. His eyes held so many mixed emotions, none that Taehyun could clearly identify.

Taehyun steps back from the cell with a deep sigh and murmurs, “I think we’ve talked enough. It’s clear where we stand.” Yeonjun stiffens; a hint of plea and desperation now coating his features.

“We’ll next see each other at your hearing,” Taehyun coldly hums with a heavy heart that sinks as though it were an anchor. Taehyun turns to walk and begins to take a step before the clatter of the cell startles him. Yeonjun grips the bars once more with wide-eyes, his eyes watering, “Taehyun, wait!”

“Wait…” Yeonjun shakily yells, “You’re leaving already?” Taehyun hums, “What else is there to speak about? You’ve made your opinions and thoughts quite clear.”

Yeonjun’s eyes flicker, scrambling to say something, anything! “I…I do feel some regret. I- I didn’t want to admit it, I fucked up, I- was so hostile because-“

Taehyun faces him with a chilling smile catching onto his sudden ploy within seconds. “I know what you’re doing, Yeonjun.” He sighs, “It’s pitiful to see you like this. Changing your tune, in a moment of desperation. Your chance to have my sympathy is gone.”

The already dim light in Yeonjun’s eyes seems to now be extinguished completely, making them look lifeless. His hands slide down the bar pathetically as he gazes at Taehyun.

“You’ll be here for a long time. You can truly learn to feel remorse then. Not just for the sake of reducing your sentence or gaining my fervor at the last minute,” Taehyun murmurs.

With a final step, he swivels away and begins walking away from Yeonjun’s cell. Yeonjun silently watches Taehyun’s retreating figure. A new horrifying and ominous sense of the depravity of his actions and the consequences that are going to follow now setting into the crevices of his mind. It was well and truly over.

Taehyun even granted him one small kindness, yet he also foolishly threw it away. Perhaps, Yeonjun was more similar to his father than he cared to admit. Not that anything mattered anymore, his life would now be confined to the same four walls.

Truly, a fate worse than death.

Soobin sits beside Taehyun with an empty expression, “That’s…a lot to take in.” Taehyun shrugs, “I’m glad I did it though, even if it left me feeling restless for the first two days afterwards, it…it gave me the end I need, although sad but necessary.” Soobin nods in agreement, “Definitely. But still that’s a bitter way to go out.”

Taehyun hums dryly, “Unfortunately there’s always a price to pay.” The two sit peering outside the window; in a comfortable but solemn silence, mourning the loss of their friend. Alive still but not the same.

—————

Meanwhile, you yawn as your footsteps clatter against the sleek stone floor. Your back aches from the numerous curtsies, bows, greetings you’ve given today and your cheeks were relatively sore from smiling so much today. The crown on your head though rather heavy, feels oddly light on your head today.

Your eyes widen upon seeing a beloved familiar face. The brown haired male bows deeply with a playful smirk, “Good evening, your majesty.” You bashfully smile, “Oh hush with that nonsense, Kai.”

Hueningkai grins mischievous straightening up, “What? You are our new ruler, it’s only appropriate I treat you with utmost respect.” Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, yes. I’m aware. But you know we’ve never been a fan of maintaining etiquette around each other.” He smiles shaking his head, “Suppose not.”

“Finished your patrol? Your duties?” You ask gleaming. Kai nods; your eyes drift to the scar on his cheek; a last reminder of what he went through alongside the numerous unforgiving scars from the whipping on his back. You shudder; you still remember finding him barely conscious bleeding, wounds infected, starved and beaten. You had burst into tears upon the cruel sight.

“Yes, I have,” he gently smiles. He hums, “Would your majesty care for a stroll with her favourite knight? Or would you like to be escorted back to your chambers to rest from all this dreadful socialising?”

You chuckle; he knew you well. His eyes shimmer peering at you; a longing feeling in your heart as you think about your memories with him. How kindly, graciously he pushed his feelings down and let you go.

“I don’t mind a stroll,” you muse. With that, you both take a walk through the grand hallways of the palace beside each other in an initial comfortable silence. You truly missed moments like this. You were glad he was alive, happy and still by your side.

“Your precious lover won’t be too offended if he sees me by your side will he?” Kai hums amused. A giggle escapes your lips, “Ah, he may be a little annoyed but he’s far too cocky to be insecure. He knows we’re close friends. I noticed you two getting along quite well too, what’s all that about then? Gossiping about me?”

“Oh I was just telling him everything about you, your embarrassing moments, and-“ Kai begins and you scoff, “Oh you did not!”

He laughs, “Fine, fine. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. To be honest when I initially met him, he was a little cold. I wondered how you grew to like being around such a man, but he spoke respectfully to me. He didn’t sugarcoat anything and kept it blunt. I liked it. He asked me fully whether I still had feelings for you.”

Your eyes widen. Ah, so the two men aired their queries towards each other. “Well?” Kai flushes slightly, “Well, honestly there’s tiny lingering pieces, but the more I’ve seen the two of you these few weeks. It’s really settled in. Seeing you so happy with him. It…it makes me happy to see you that way. You have a specific glow around him, if that makes sense.” Your heart races, you did?

“The look in your eyes, the way you talk to him, flutter around him, even the way he communicates with you in contrast to others. It’s clear, you two are incredibly in love with each other.” Hueningkai describes it with a bright smile.

He resumes, “It’s rather endearing. It didn’t…hurt as much as I expected it to. I suppose I had time to reflect on such emotions whilst I was back in the dungeons, after leaving you back in Luna.”

You give him a genuine smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better companion and protector like you. Thank you, Kai.” He snorts, “For what? My goal is to see you happy, your majesty.” You hum, “I’ll personally see to it, that your goals and future wishes are all fulfilled to the brim.” He grins at you, “I’ll hold you to it.”

Both of you continue to chatter and laugh whilst walking beside each other like old times. It felt good and you truly felt content with life.

The evening passes by with the palace ruckus morphing into a comfortable and familiar sense of quietness as the staff and maids slowly begin retiring from their duties.

A long groan escapes your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth of Taehyun’s bare chest. Your fingertips trace down his shoulder to his chest delicately drawing random designs. “Comfortable?” He muses dryly. “Very,” you huff contently as you feel his strong arm slide around your waist.

“Here I thought I was going to reward you tonight, but it seems we are both exhausted,” Taehyun snickers. You sigh, “Indeed today was both physically and socially tiring. My face hurts from smiling so much.” Taehyun peers at you with an endearing expression, “Mm, I suppose you nobles always have to keep up appearances.” You hum fatigued, “Even in front of people we despise, how grueling.”

Taehyun muses satirically, “Truly, what a terrible set of circumstances. Mm, the nobles were certainly a handful. I still don’t like the barons and chancellors.”

You grin, “Whenever have you ever liked any noble I’ve introduced you to, thus far?” He shrugs, “Fair point, I just don’t like nobility or royalty in general.” You raise a brow and he coos, “Except you, of course, sweetheart,” he sarcastically drawls, “How could I ever forget you?”

You give him a light, playful smack on his bicep and he chuckles. “Truly though, you are the only tolerable noble. I cannot stand their stuck up and pretentiously obnoxious attitudes.” You hum drearily, “Mm, well you’re going to have to get used to such things whilst here. Unless you prefer to hide yourself away in the confines of the Sorcerer’s Tower.”

He muses, “Oh never, sweetheart.” You both shift lightly; with you facing him. Your eyes meet and you can’t help but smile softly at him. His disheveled locks and intense gaze. You move some strands out of the way and he suddenly grabs your hand, bringing it towards his lips. Taehyun kisses your inner wrist delicately sending a shiver up your arm and down your spine. It was an intimate but sweet gesture.

“I always think at the end of the day, what if none of this occurred. Would I have still crossed paths with you? If I wasn’t exiled and still remained in the palace and became the royal sorcerer, would you have paid me any attention?” He questions. You playfully murmur, “Oh, probably not. I never went to the Sorcerer’s Tower, I’d have probably not even recognised you.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Oh how lovely.” You hum, “I merely jest, Taehyun. Well, perhaps, if fate meant for our paths to cross this time, I don’t see why we were not fated to cross if you were still in Fortuna’s palace.” Your eyes glance over his face, “After all, who could pass by such a handsome sorcerer…”

Taehyun's lips quirk up into a smirk, “You’ve got that right indeed. Handsome, strong…” His lips briefly gaze at your parted lips. You continue, “…intelligent, powerful…” he resumes, “…determined and ever so passionate,” his lips near yours.

“Mm, and you. No list in the world could be long enough to describe your attributes,” he utters, his voice just above a whisper. You press your lips to his softly. Your lips move against his in an alluring rhythm, a rhythm you often both found comfort in.

Your hand slides up his neck and your fingers run through the locks on the back of his hair. Both your legs interlock as you press yourselves against each other as close as possible. His own hands skim against the thin fabric of your nightgown trailing up and down as you kiss.

Parting for breath, you breathlessly utter, “I love you,” he smiles as he repeats the words back, “I love you too, sweetheart,” before returning his lips back onto yours sweetly.

You both lay in each other’s arms contently; his thumb draws circles on your waist and he murmurs, “Haven't your council been pestering you to get engaged? What was it again- oh yes, ‘to assert your right and maintain your stronghold over your position as queen by showing that you plan to have an heir in the near future.’”

You scoff, “Oh yes, yes. Their silly little concerns.” Taehyun hums, “What, finding their idea silly or are you not interested in getting engaged, or to say, betrothed? We are already courting are we not?” You stiffen, is he implying what you think he’s implying?

Taehyun muses with a subtle smirk, “Well, let me know when their silly little concerns begin to concern you.” Your eyes widen snapping to meet his, “Taehyun.”

“Y/n,” he echoes amused. You gawk at his insinuation, feeling your heart race.

“Not now, I personally wish to feel more settled and take some time to get more acquainted with things. As do you with your new duties and responsibilities. But in the near future…” he alludes.

“For now, I am content to court regardless of whatever scandalous thoughts the nobles may have,” Taehyun muses. You smile feeling flustered; you both of course had the intention to marry soon - well, you definitely had to as a ruler. But it gave you much needed comfort that he was just as eager to go through with such a big step as you were.

His fingers interlock with yours, “Are you okay, sweetheart? Didn’t startle you into shock did I?” You gaze lovingly at Taehyun as you respond and lay your head against his chest, “I’ve never been better.”

With a final smirk (that you’ve grown to adore ever so much), he peers at the candles around the room and with a snap of his fingers, the flames extinguish allowing for the blanket of sleep to overtake you both.

“Goodnight, Taehyun.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

- END. -

|| Thanks everyone for the support on this series truly! <3 It feels great to be able to end it on a such sweet note. As always keep an eye out for more on the way from tinietaehyun!

Taglist: [closed]

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you, the princess of wonderland, have been betrothed to the prince of utopia for years now. however, the political relation between wonderland and utopia have never improved, and utopia keeps taking over wonderland’s land unlawfully. with your guard mingi who is also your best friend and who you have feelings for, you travel to utopia with a plan to deceive the prince and steal official documents that would be proof of their treachery, risking your life in more than one way when you can’t hold your feelings for your guard back anymore.

love you to death | @atzfilm

genre: deathreaper!mingi, fantasy, mythical, angst

length: oneshot - 25.5k

everyone who has ever loved you died horrifically. you’ve given up on love, until you find a man who keeps on saying he’s death, willing to help you. for a price, of course.

your fan, mingi | @hwaightme

genre: rapper!reader, slice of life, fluff, angst

length: twoshot - 6.7k

a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if mingi was stanning you

hearts awakened, live alive | @sorryimananti-romantic 🩶

genre: demon!mingi, fluff, angst, suggestive

length: oneshot - 26k

you finally run away from the clutches of your stepmother and encounter mingi, infamously known as 'the child of shadows'. you join his gang of three- the high healer wooyoung and the white flame seonghwa and start living with them. you find out mingi is cursed to share a body with the shadow demon that goes by the name erebos and start falling for it and mingi eventually, though tragic consequences await you as you find out more about the demon's curse.

badboy!wooyoung | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 5k

nil author synopsis

place in me | @starrysvn

genre: chef!wooyoung x chef!reader, angst, slow burn, fluff, ex to lovers

length: oneshot - 17k

nil author synopsis

crazy for you | @cosmicdumpling

genre: friends to lovers, romance, fluff, suggestive

length: oneshot - 8.0k

wooyoung seems to have harbored a crush on you for a while now, and as much as he hates it, he manages to hold out just fine. a trip to the beach with the rest of your friends, however, becomes a huge threat to wooyoung’s remaining resolve.

made for this | @yoongiseesawmp3

genre: churchboy!wooyoung, wingman!kyungmin, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 10.5k

you’re volunteering for this year’s vacation bible school, and wooyoung’s little brother just so happens to be in your group. is it wrong of him to use kyungmin as his wing man? eh, who cares. wooyoung is just determined to get you to fall for him before the week is over, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

your fan, jongho | @hwaightme

genre: footballer!reader, romance, fluff

length: twoshot - 3.9k

a bulletpoint-style drabble of what it would be like to have jongho stanning you.

where do i go | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: bodyguard!jongho, angst, fluff, violence, suggestive

length: oneshot - 23k

you’re the owner of hotel crescent in mist island, where secrets are traded. you’re infamously known as the gossip-dealer and known for manipulating people, which means you’re not safe. however, the last thing you expect is your power-hungry father to send jongho to be your bodyguard, but you suspect it’s not because he fears for your safety but because he wants to keep tabs on you as he joins prince woobin’s side while you join prince hongjoong’s side. as your father comes from eden to mist island to become the minister of foreign affairs, the political situation between the two nations worsen and you fear for war, but you risk your life for your homeland, and find jongho joining hands with you as you both uncover secrets and betrayals from your father.

time of love | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: brother's best fried au, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 19k

you are yeosang's little sister, adored by all his friends. you're concerned that's all you will be- even though you are close to them- especially to jongho, who you've liked since highschool. after a year gap and moving to yeosang's apartment for college, you find jongho's living with him for a few weeks as well due to a dorm situatuon. will your feelings for him resurface with all their might? will you be able to make him look at you as just you, and will you be able to win his heart?

[9:26 p.m.] | @mingtinys

genre: timestamp, sleepy!jongho, fluff

length: oneshot - 1.2k

nil author synopsis

last updated: 25 oct 2023

[traeumenvonbuechern]

Historical Romances by Black Authors

Aphrodite wishes to escape the marriage mart but will a second chance with the elusive Duke of Everely change her mind? Aphrodite Du Bell is a diamond of the first water and a favourite of the queen. But her renowned loveliness didn't stop the love of her life, Evander Eagleman, from jilting her and marrying another woman four years ago. Aphrodite has been in self-imposed exile ever since. However, when her formidable mother summons her back to London Aphrodite has no choice but to acquiesce. Upon her return, Aphrodite learns that the newly widowed Evander is in town and, despite her best efforts, the grand society events of the season repeatedly push them together. With each encounter, Aphrodite's traitorous feelings make it perfectly clear that the Duke still holds court over her heart. Why did Evander cast Aphrodite aside all those years ago, and now that they have a second chance, can the couple make strides to mend past hurts?

Ailsa Connery has waited three long years to finally escape her enslavement at Stirling Castle and reunite with her clan. But her carefully laid plans are completely destroyed by the arrival of the infamous Highland warrior known as Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil…who has plans of his own. Kallum MacNeill's fearsome reputation has long allowed him to keep hidden his secret double life of freeing enslaved captives across the land. It's only when he kidnaps a servant lass—quite by accident—that he finds himself facing a wee predicament. He must accompany the lass home or risk her exposing his true identity. It'd be easy enough…if the feisty hellion didn't fight him at every turn. As they make their way to the Highlands, the perils the two must face are surpassed only by their constant sparring. Soon, their heated sniping sparks heat of a totally different kind. The kind that ignites a hunger that could consume them both. Yet the difficult journey is no match for the dangerous secrets they're about to uncover.

The first novel in USA Today Bestselling Author Beverly Jenkins’s compelling new series follows a Northern woman south in the chaotic aftermath of the Civil War . . . Valinda Lacy’s mission in the steamy heart of New Orleans is to help the newly emancipated community survive and flourish. But soon she discovers that here, freedom can also mean danger. When thugs destroy the school she has set up and then target her, Valinda runs for her life—and straight into the arms of Captain Drake LeVeq. As an architect from an old New Orleans family, Drake has a deeply personal interest in rebuilding the city. Raised by strong women, he recognizes Valinda’s determination. And he can’t stop admiring—or wanting—her. But when Valinda’s father demands she return home to marry a man she doesn’t love, her daring rebellion draws Drake into an irresistible intrigue.

A fun and feminist Regency romp from a master of the genre hailed as "a delight" by Bridgerton author Julia Quinn. Nothing happens in London without Graham Wynchester knowing. His massive collection of intelligence is invaluable to his family’s mission of aiding those most in need. So when he deciphers a series of coded messages in the scandal sheets, Graham’s convinced he must come to a royal’s rescue. But his quarry turns out not to be a princess at all… The captivating Kunigunde de Heusch is anything but a damsel in distress, and the last thing she wants is Graham’s help. All her life, Kuni trained alongside the fiercest Royal Guardsmen in her family, secretly planning to become her country’s first Royal Guardswoman. This mission in London is a chance to prove herself worthy without help from a man, not even one as devilishly handsome as Graham. To her surprise, Graham believes in her dream as much as she does, which makes it harder to resist kissing him…and falling in love. But how can she risk her heart if her future lies an ocean away? 

Jane Austen meets The Princess and the Frog For as long as Prairie can remember, living in paradise has been boring. Her days are filled with helping at her family's resort, sewing, daydreaming, and observing fashionable guests from the sidelines. But when a fairytale-Esque opportunity arises, she does something out of character and agrees to marry a man she's never met. Suddenly, she's navigating a new life that is a world and an ocean away from everything she's ever known. Her new husband, Wright, is decidedly Mr. Wrong. If there's a schedule, he'll ignore it. If there is a rule, he'll break it. If there's a risk, he'll take it. Has the girl who has always had a plan finally met her match? If you're a fan of TV shows like 'Vanity Fair', 'Bridgerton' and 'The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' or enjoy reading comedies of manners, you'll love 'That, My Dear, Is Love.' This is a full-length, standalone novel featuring a diverse ensemble cast, whimsical magic, and hilarious misadventures. This is a clean romance with a HEA. Featuring some of your favorite tropes: Marriage of Convenience Opposites Attract Reformed Rake

The Davenports delivers a totally escapist, swoon-worthy romance while offering a glimpse into a period of African American history often overlooked. The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it's 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to. There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers. Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love.

[turbo-virgins]

Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)

The first chapter of my Rook x Solas fic is now up!

This fic spoils one of the endings of Veilguard! You have been warned!!

Word Count: 3,165

Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fade Shenanigans, Forced Proximity

Summary: In which a Dalish Rook and the Dread Wolf himself are forced to navigate the perils of being the world’s shittiest room mates.

Notification tags: @nerdee-blondee

If anyone wants notifications for any update posts I might make here in the future, feel free to say so in the replies of this post!

Snippet of the first chapter is beneath the cut, but you can read the rest on ao3 🥰

Rook is one of the most important pieces on the board, but… she tends to think in straight lines, Varric had said once upon a time.

And that's what it all came down to in the end. One straight path forward that would pass her by in a heartbeat if she didn't take it. There was the tear in the Veil, a god, and the lyrium dagger he was so very desperately trying to rip from her hand.

Solas's magic coiled around her arm, bending muscle and bone to the breaking point. Snarling curses were trapped beneath the cage of her clenched teeth as her fingers threatened to give way. Every inch of her body quivered with exhaustion, all pathetic and mortal and made for sundering under the almighty pull of a god's will. A will Solas wielded not with mercy, but something worse- a grimace of pity.

"I do not wish to fight you, Shivan."

Yet he forced her to stare down the demise of everything she knew and loved, everything she was. So she took the only option left.

She lunged for him.

The force of all his pulling left her weightless. Inhumanly fast. Her shoulder connected with his chest and wrenched the breath from them both. Two pairs of clumsy, scrambling hands fumbled the dagger between them. Somewhere in the chaos it left a gash through the flesh of her palm and sliced across his fingers. She bit back a cry of pain.

There was shouting. So much damn shouting. From her team. From Solas raging and spitting in her ear like a mad dog. All of it was meaningless noise that fell on deaf ears, so far beneath her notice now that she'd made her final choice.

They collided with the Veil and slipped through the loose weave of its magic. Invisible threads anchored to her limbs and began pulling her through to the other side.

She stole one last glance at the sky. All smears of red with black, ominous clouds that seemed to rain flecks of ash. A pity, then, that she couldn't find the sun. Everything vanished in a whirling vortex of blue and green.

Her momentum carried them through and spit them out into a tumbling tangle of limbs on the other side. Dust clogged her nose as she rolled and rolled. When all finally came to a stop, she landed flat on her back and lay breathless atop uneven ground. Above her loomed the gloomy gray skies of the Fade.

Before she could so much as blink a shadow descended upon her. Solas's hand hovered inches from her throat as she was dragged to her feet and slammed with bone-bruising force against a withered tree.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" His shout echoed to every reach of the Fade as her gaze was swallowed up by the stormy rage in his crackling, glowing eyes.

What have you done? What have you done? What have you done? each of the echoes demanded in turn.

"What I-" She gagged and wretched as magic held her throat in a vice. "What I had to," she wheezed. "You left me... no other choice."

With each word the pressure only increased until she was certain any moment she'd hear the sickening squelch of her windpipe finally collapsing upon itself. Black nothingness flooded the edges of her vision until her whole world was reduced to Fen'Harel's bleeding, snarling fury.

He's going to kill me, she realized with weary acceptance. A fair trade, she supposed, for sealing him away for all time.