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differentpostrebel · 1 month

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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?"

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!

#black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #one piece #onepiece x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #strawhat pirates #straw hat crew #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji x you #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece x you

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tinietaehyun · 6 months

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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!

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Fairest by Gail Carson Levine (2006)

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to be pretty . . .

Aza's singing is the fairest in all the land, and the most unusual. She can throw her voice so it seems to come from anywhere. But singing is only one of the two qualities prized in the Kingdom of Ayortha. Aza doesn't possess the other: beauty. Not even close. She's hidden in the shadows in her parents' inn, but when she becomes lady-in-waiting to the new queen, she has to step into the light--especially when the queen demands a dangerous favor. A magic mirror, a charming prince, a jealous queen, palace intrigue, and an injured king twine into a maze that Aza must penetrate to save herself and her beloved kingdom.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce (2003-2004)

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. This is the first of two books featuring Alianne.

Monstress by Marjorie M. Liu (2015-present)

Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers.

Lockwood & Co by Jonathan Stroud (2013-2017)

When the dead come back to haunt the living, Lockwood & Co. step in . . .

For more than fifty years, the country has been affected by a horrifying epidemic of ghosts. A number of Psychic Investigations Agencies have sprung up to destroy the dangerous apparitions.

Lucy Carlyle, a talented young agent, arrives in London hoping for a notable career. Instead she finds herself joining the smallest, most ramshackle agency in the city, run by the charismatic Anthony Lockwood. When one of their cases goes horribly wrong, Lockwood & Co. have one last chance of redemption. Unfortunately this involves spending the night in one of the most haunted houses in England, and trying to escape alive.

Protector of the Small by Tamora Pierce (1999-2002)

Keladry of Mindelan is the first girl who dares to take advantage of a new rule in Tortall—one that allows females to train for knighthood. After years in the Yamani Islands, she knows that women can be warriors, and now that she’s returned home, Kel is determined to achieve her goal. She believes she is ready for the traditional hazing and grueling schedule of a page. But standing in Kel’s way is Lord Wyldon. The training master is dead set against girls becoming knights. He says she must pass a one-year trial that no male page has ever had to endure. It’s just one more way to separate Kel from her fellow trainees. But she is not to be underestimated. She will fight to succeed, even when the test is unfair.

Falling Kingdoms by Morgan Rhodes (2012-2018)

Princess Cleo of Mytica confronts violence for the first time in her life when a shocking murder sets her kingdom on a path to collapse. Once a privileged royal, Cleo must now summon the strength to survive in this new world and fight for her rightful place as Queen.

The King of Limeros's son, Magnus, must plan each footstep with shrewd, sharp guile if he is to earn his powerful father's trust, while his sister, Lucia, discovers a terrifying secret about her heritage that will change everything.

Rebellious Jonas lashes out against the forces of oppression that have kept his country cruelly impoverished--and finds himself the leader of a people's revolution centuries in the making.

Witches, if found, are put to death, and Watchers, immortal beings who take the shape of hawks to visit the human world, have been almost entirely forgotten. A vicious power struggle quickly escalates to war, and these four young people collide against each other and the rise of elementia, the magic that can topple kingdoms and crown a ruler in the same day.

#best fantasy book #poll #the two princesses of bamarre #memory sorrow and thorn #starbound #skulduggery pleasant #fairest #trickster's duology #monstress #lockwood & co #protector of the small #falling kingdoms

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traeumenvonbuechern · 1 year

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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.

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ashisgreedy · 1 year

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Garreth Weasely x F!MC

“My Fire In Your Veins”

Dragon Shifter Fantasy AU

WC: 8,200

Summary: In a world invaded by dragons, humanity's survival is a daily struggle as cities crumble. Amidst this chaos, MC encounters a dragon, but instead of violence, he transforms into a human-like man, forging a carnal connection with her.

A Monster Romance Short Story

The distant roar that echoed through the skies didn't prompt her to seek shelter immediately. Along with the other survivors, she hastily extinguished the campfire and efficiently stowed away their provisions. Each person diligently performed their role, and in no time, the campsite was dismantled, and they set off toward the nearby cave their scout had located earlier.

The dragons, though a constant presence, had yet to pose an immediate threat to them in the forest. They usually flew toward the distant side of the valley and beyond the ridge, allowing the survivors some semblance of familiarity and routine. These creatures typically found their preferred havens in elevated, expansive areas that could comfortably accommodate their entire group.

Approaching the cave, the sound of rushing air reached MC's ears, an all-too-familiar precursor to attacks. The dragon's arrival was heralded by a massive shadow blocking out the sun. A chill gripped her veins, propelling her into a frantic sprint toward the cave. Other members of the group stifled their cries, one among them already in tears as they hurriedly gathered beneath the protective canopy of the trees.

Inhaling deeply, she surged forward, arms pumping with determination as the cave entrance drew nearer. Yet, an abrupt roar from above sent her stumbling, her heart thundering in her chest. She instinctively covered her ears, bracing herself for the potential inferno of heat that could erupt from the dragon's jaws.

Its wings flapped just above and she swallowed her heart, urging her legs to push her forward just a bit faster. She glanced back, anticipating the group to be right behind her, only to find herself utterly alone. Her eyes widened, panic racing through her mind like wildfire. A desperate gaze flickered between the cave's entrance and the path she had just come, uncertainty paralyzing her. In these perilous times, being abandoned was practically a death sentence. The dragon's roar must have sent the others fleeing in the opposite direction. Inwardly cursing her oversight, frustration burned within her.

Opting to bolt toward the cave, she dashed until her calves screamed in protest. A resounding thud to her left sent her stumbling forward, her knees catching her in the fall. Her teeth clamped on her lip, stifling any outcry. A deep exhalation behind her caused her lungs to seize. The colossal presence loomed just at her back, a shiver racing down her spine. The entire forest fell into an eerie hush, as though the very trees were holding their breath.

Avoiding a glance backward, she remained immobilized by fear. A shiver coursed through her as another huff and inquisitive sniffle came from behind. Though she had never encountered one up close, her imagination conjured the sheer magnitude of their snout, an image about the size of a carriage.

With a menacing snarl, its colossal wings beat, setting leaves and branches into a frenzied whirl. She struggled to swallow past her parched throat, her hands turning numb before starting to shake.

Silence stretched for a long moment, eventually emboldening her to steal a glance. If these were her final moments, she wanted to quench her curiosity. Yet, the instant her gaze landed on the scene a wave of regret washed over her.

The dragon was massive. A hulking, spiked monstrosity shrouded in sharp garnet and gold scales sculpted perfectly to its muscular body. A single talon, the size of her entire body, was more than enough to eviscerate her.

Her stomach twisted as her head moved up its towering figure towards its face. A gasp escaped her lips as she locked with its immense slit-shaped pupils, their attention laser-focused on her. It's eyes were a swirl of greens with an obsidian core.

She recoiled as its jaws parted, a plume of smoke unfurling. This was the moment, an undeniable certainty coursing through her veins. She was about to be blasted with the hottest fire known to man, the very same that had wiped out entire forests and cities. She refused to close her eyes as she waited for sweet release.

Yet, seconds stretched into an eternity, and the Dragon seemed to exude an air of disinterest. Her brows pinched in confusion as it sat still, spiky tail lashing behind itself.

After a short while, her shoulders eased their tension. However, they tensed right back up as the Dragon began to stir, as if... shrinking? Her eyes widened in bewilderment as she watched the dragon change right before her, transforming into the shape of a human man.

Her jaw was on the floor as he ruffled his crimson curly hair and blinked until his slitted pupils transformed into round black circles. Lifting his gaze to her, an amused expression played across his features. Despite his fair complexion, his skin boasted tiny golden flecks and human-like freckles.

He took a step forward and she took a step back. It was undoubtedly a 'he', revealed by his obvious display of masculinity, with no clothing whatsoever to hide his modesty. She averted her eyes above the waist, observing as red scales seemed to dissolve as he continued to transform, giving way to sleek, unblemished skin across most of his body.

He halted, his now considerably smaller scarlet wings unfurling, stretching out broadly. The veined wings were tipped with small talon-like claws. After looking her over once more, he took another casual step forward.

The wings outstretched looked more like a warning than anything but it reminded her of male birds in the wild having bright obnoxious colors to attract a mate. It was almost funny to her how he strutted over, glowing with confidence, almost.

She didn’t run, knowing damn well she’d never make it out of the clearing. She kept her eyes glued on him and allowed him to approach us slowly as he was.

The closer he got the more obvious their size difference was. Though human-like in form, he was much larger than any average man. He towered over her, surpassing her height by several heads.

Despite her determination, she took an involuntary step back as he approached. The tree's presence behind her made her jump causing the dragon-shifter to crack a smirk.

“Um, Hello?” She said, shattering the prolonged silence. His gaze fixated on her lips, eyebrows arching in surprise. “Do you speak… English?” She tried again finding her voice wavering. The adrenaline rush that had gripped her was beginning to subside, yet her chest remained constricted.

Amusement danced in his eyes, each time she spoke, his attention seemed to linger on her lips as if intrigued. She pressed her back harder into the tree. She realized he wasn't inclined to speak or even attempt communication in any possible language he may have.

The methods of communication among the dragon species had confounded humans. Over time, it had become evident that dragons separated by vast distances could somehow coordinate attacks or migrations, despite never being observed having interacted before. This mystery had perplexed everyone, leaving their communication methods shrouded in conjecture and conspiracy theories.

His gaze intensified as he drew nearer. Leaning in, he inhaled deeply through his nose, exhaling in a lengthy sigh.

As he got closer, his outstretched wings blocked her view of the forest making her heart gallop in her chest. She felt akin to a mouse ensnared by a cat.

She cleared her throat. “Hi.” She said a bit louder than before. She waved her hand, capturing his attention. His brows knitted as he examined her hand, creases appearing on his forehead.

He looked closely at her hand as she presented it to him. She watched as his perplexity grew. He countered by extending his own hand, dwarfing hers by almost twice the size. His fingers were tipped with short, yet sharp, claw-like nails. Her mind raced, contemplating his intentions. Would he strike her down now? Perhaps a razor-sharp nail to her throat?

He glanced back at her hand, then at his own, releasing a huff through his nose as he shook his head. His gaze shifted, moving more leisurely across her form.

A thought occurred to her, was he scrutinizing their differences? There were a lot of differences actually, such as the lack of garnet scales draping her shoulders and fading into her chest. His scales mixed nicely into his pale skin, fading until none were peppering his flat stomach.

The wind picked up, evoking a groan from him as he inhaled deeply once more. His face neared hers and she could smell the forest air wafting from his body. The scent of dried rain and crisp leaves accosted her senses.

His hand lifted, gently touching her hair, careful of his claws. She remained motionless as he leaned closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. A contented sigh escaped him before he shifted his focus to her neck. There, she felt the faintest graze of his tongue, causing her to jerk away. The dragon shifter looked happy with himself as he walked to her other side with a newfound purpose.

“That was…. Nice.” She offered, an odd sensation settling over her. But, this man was holding his life in her hands. She could play nice until the opportunity for her to escape arose.

She jumped when his hand moved up the center of her back. Startled, she took several strides forward, distancing herself from him and leaving him standing by the tree alone.

“Woah, ha…” She struggled to contain her reaction, trying to avoid offending him. “That..” She shook her head and buried her face in her hands. She couldn't wrap her head around what was happening.

The shock had overwhelmed her ever since the dragon's astonishing transformation before her eyes. She wondered just how long these dragon invaders had been able to do that. Were they born with this ability?

He frowned, walking toward her again. He lifted his hand and slowly reached out to touch her face. Before his hand met her skin he paused, looking into her eyes.

It dawned on her that he was silently asking permission to touch her. She didn't know if she exactly had a real choice in the matter. In response, she nodded, allowing his hand to make contact, her face tilting into his touch as she took a deep breath.

His eyes lit up as his gentle hand cradled her face. He hummed happily, tracing down her neck and across her shoulder. Heat radiated from his skin leaving warmth in the wake of his touch. When his claw brushed against her arm, she realized it was more blunt than she had initially assumed, lacking the razor-sharp point.

She took in a deep breath, feeling his gentle touch all the way down to her hand. His gaze sought hers, and he grinned in triumph. Her brows furrowed with puzzlement, the world suddenly shifted, and her cheek met the ground. A shocked exhale escaped her, swirling dirt around her face.

His palm pressed on her head, keeping her face against the ground. She kicked out, but the motion came to an abrupt halt when he positioned his groin against her raised backside. She gulped, her fingers clenching the grass beneath her.

He ground against her, drawing her hips back into his body. The fabric of her pants acted as a barrier, dulling the sensation, but the contours of his cock were unmistakable.

She yelped when he folded his body atop hers, breath tickling her ear. He rutted against her, and she instinctively shut her eyes.

“Um? What the fuck is going on…” She asked rhetorically, knowing the dragon had no idea what she was saying.

Inhaling her scent, his heart pounded against her back. The more he ground his hips, the firmer he became against her backside.

He huffed, pulling back slightly. She watched as he raked his fingers through his curls, groaning. His gaze locked onto hers, his hand gesturing for her in a general sense.

She didn’t move, cheek still pressed to the ground as she looked back at him. Inhaling deeply, he visibly trembled. With a pointed finger, he indicated himself, then her.

MC blinked a couple of times, a span of silence stretching between them. The dragon frowned reiterating the gesture, jabbing his finger into his chest before carefully pointing at her.

“I don’t get it… You…. and me?” She gestured to herself and then to him.

The dragon's gaze intensified. He grasped her pants and, aided by his claws and strength, ripped the fabric away.

“Hey! Those were my only decent pair! Oh, Shit!”

His mouth was on her cunt, a long tongue licking a stripe the entire length from her clit to her ass.

“Oh…” Understanding struck her like lighting. “Oh no… we can’t. I-”

His hands carefully parted her cheeks as his tongue delved between her folds.

“Holy hell… what…. is happening? Do you want a …hook-up? Is that it?” A yelp escaped her as his tongue circled her opening.

She wondered whether she should allow him to have his way, let him satisfy his desires. Maybe, when he was done, he will leave her here and fly back to whatever scorched patch of earth he came from and she can find her group again.

“Fine…” The word was more of a moan. She bit her lip to stifle any sounds.

The cool breeze sent a shiver down her legs as he abandoned it to point at himself again.

“Yes, yes! Go ahead.” She indicated, pointing at herself and then at him.

His brows shot up and his eyes sparkled. An actual smile graced his lips, and he appeared... quite attractive.

“Let's get this over with, yeah?” She exhaled, her body scraping the ground as he removed the remains of her torn clothes.

He let out a low growl and placed his mouth back on her center. Years had passed since she last experienced the pleasurable touch of a man. A slap or a punch during a resource battle? Sure. But nothing that sent delightful shivers up her spine and caused her eyes to roll back.

“Damn…” She huffed, stirring up dust that settled on her face. She attempted to brush it away with her hand but was caught off balance when he spread her legs further.

She thought of the cities and entire valleys that had been decimated by hoards of dragons and their molten flames. Her own town had been among the first to fall victim to the invaders, forcing her and her family to become refugees, perpetually fleeing in search of survival.

She squeezed her eyes, feeling like a traitor as the very same enemy licked up and down the entire length of her pussy. Damn… being a traitor felt incredible. Of course, she was only doing this to create an opportunity to escape once he was finished... yeah... that was the plan.

His hands gripped her thighs and he pulled her legs apart. He purred against her slick cunt, vibrations making her squirm. How long was he going to do this for? This was looking less and less like a quick fuck and more like he was attempting to genuinely pleasure her.

“You can get on with it… you know.” She muttered, digging her nails into the forest floor. Predictably, he paid no attention to her words. After all, he hadn't uttered a single syllable, only making moans and groans of pleasure with his mouth.

His long tongue slid inside her entrance, the thick muscle stretching her out. She moaned and so did he, the vibration making her legs quake. His sounds of pleasure caught her off guard. Pulling her head back, she watched his red waves catch the sunlight as he buried his face between her legs. She squinted against the sun's brightness, then shifted her gaze back to the dim expanse of the forest ahead.

It was maddening how pleasurable it all felt. She let out a soft whimper, her cheek pressed against the ground while his groans reverberated through her, setting her body on edge.

“No one is going to believe this…” She whispered to herself. Her legs were trembling and she felt the orgasm on the horizon. “Fuck…”

His tongue moved dangerously slow, swirling around her sensitive clit. His thumbs dug into her skin, holding her core open obscenely for the taking.

She exhaled deeply, her muscles taut as the tension built.

"Alright!" she declared, pulling away before the inevitable.

The dragon growled and pulled her hips until his lips met her clit again. He sucked hard, running his tongue in circles, ravishing her with fierceness.

“Ah!” She moaned as the intensity of the orgasm throbbed in her core and spread over her body. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…” She whimpered, pushing herself back into his face, grinding eagerly.

The dragon hummed with satisfaction, licking lighter and lighter until the touch was barely there anymore.

Her legs quivered and her limbs shook as he released her, causing her to crumble onto the ground. Panting heavily, she tried to collect herself.

The dragon repositioned her hips, pulling her ass back into the air. Glancing back, she noticed the dilation of his pupils, his once-green eyes nearly engulfed by the expanses of black. He pushed his knuckle against her core, keeping his claw at bay as he pressed into the slick hole. She moaned, voice strained when his knuckle entered her.

His gaze narrowed, eyes locked on the wet mess in front of him. A blush colored her cheeks and she moved away again.

She began to turn around. “Okay okay…” She uttered. The dragon grabbed her hips, moving her back into place, on display for him. "Alright, fine... I'll stay like this," She huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're obsessed with this position…”

For the first time, the dragon shifter took himself in hand. He pumped his length keeping his eyes on her spread pussy.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes went wide. “You're not putting that in me, are you!?” She blurted out. He was massive, much larger than any ordinary human's cock should ever be. “It won't fit.” She added, starting to crawl away. “There’s no fucking way.”

He grabbed her hip with his free hand, holding her in place. He pressed his cock against her pussy, coating her slickness all over the tip.

“That’s not going to help… a miracle is needed.” She pleaded. He pushed the tip against her opening and started to push. “There’s no way!” She yelled “There’s no-” The tip popped inside and she squealed. Okay.. maybe there was a way.

The look of determination on his face told her he wasn’t stopping at just the tip. His teeth were clenched, both hands holding her hips in a bruising grip. He was moving slowly, carefully, as a sweat broke out on his brow.

“Please be careful! Oh, gods” She moaned, feeling the intense stretch of her insides. “I can’t…. I can't..” She whimpered. Yet, she could. Her pussy betrayed her, taking more and more of the dragon's cock until he was deep inside her. The uncomfortable stretch soon turned delicious and she cursed the sounds coming from her lips.

He groaned, thrusting into her until she took him as deep as she possibly could. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her panting grew louder with each passing second. “It's too much… but…” She conceded, loosening her grip on the grass.

He wasn’t moving, and instead breathed deep, hands trembling as he held her hips.

She felt full, stuffed to the brim, unlike anything she’s ever experienced. She proceeded to press back into him, uttering soft whimpers. He gasped and folded over her, pressing his chest into her back. His arms were on either side of her head, caging her in. He placed tender kisses across her shoulder and neck. His body felt like a furnace. His skin held the warmth of a heating pad. As he folded over her, she began to sweat despite the cool spring air.

She took a deep inhale, her insides tremoring as her body acclimated to his size. He stayed seated deep in her as his lips moved down her neck and kissed just below her ear.

"I guess you could call this romantic," she attempted to joke. “But, we’re on the literal forest floor. Maybe if we were in a bed or-”

The sensation of sharp teeth grazing her skin sent a shiver through her. Her eyes widened when she felt them a second time. They were razor-sharp and far more pointy than his claws were. She held her breath, anticipating his next move. His kisses, coupled with the gentle brush of his teeth against her skin and his slow breath made it feel like he was working up to something.

Pain erupted from her throat in a piercing scream as his fangs penetrated her flesh. The noise sent nearby birds scattering, their wings fluttering and carrying them away from the scene. Betrayal washed over her and her initial instinct was to jerk away. He bit down harder and she stopped fighting, in fear it would cause more damage to her body. Tears clouded her eyes, and her cries reverberated through the surrounding trees.

He could easily tear out her throat or crush it in an instant. For the first time, limp and powerless between the jaws of a monster, MC understood how truly helpless she was.

A searing sensation like molten lava surged from his bite. She pleaded and begged for him to stop, but the scalding fluid seeped into her veins, causing her vision to blur. Her entire body became an inferno from within.

The burning sensation soon reached her heart. In her panic, the pounding muscle shot the molten lava out to her extremities. As it made its way up her neck, her lips tingled and burned. Her hands were engulfed, feeling as if she’d placed them atop a red-hot iron. A quivering whimper escaped her lips, betraying the fear that gripped her.

She groaned as the painful sensation started to dissipate. The heat felt comforting, almost natural, as it made its way to the tips of her toes.

All at once, his body stopped feeling like a furnace. He felt normal, almost cool even. Her sweat evaporated and the breeze in the forest became exceptionally refreshing. A deep inhale calmed her, and her flushed cheeks cooled.

Carefully, he unlatched his teeth. He tenderly licked at the spilled blood apologetically. A distant male voice reached her ears and she jerked her head to look. She wanted the help, sure, but what would a group of humans do in this situation? Also, her predicament was very… strange. The dragon’s cock was still seated inside her, she was naked, covered in dirt and the winged man licked at the wound he’d just given her.

She didn’t see anyone in the forest as she scanned the trees. Another male voice, much closer, caught her attention and she swiveled her head in all directions.

“Hello?!” She shouted.

Someone was near, and she wondered why the dragon man was not on alert. Was he not worried about them being found? Or did he simply not hear them? With the keen senses she knew the Dragons to have, the ladder sounded less plausible.

Heat rushed to the spot she was bitten and the blood stopped trickling. She tried to look, only seeing one of the punctured holes from her view. It was mending itself and at a remarkable rate. Her eyebrows rose in astonishment.

"What was that just now?" She gazed into his eyes. His pupils were slits again, but he blinked until they were circular black holes.

The man's voice came again and it was right behind her. She instinctively turned her head, finding no one there. Fantastic…, she must be losing her mind. Going insane seemed plausible, especially with the dragon shifter man in the picture. Could this all be a result of hitting her head? Perhaps it was just a dream... wasn't it?

The dragon shifter ran his finger through her hair and sighed happily. Her body had very well acclimated to the size of his cock by now. She felt a rush of endorphins race through her originating from her core.

“...like you were made for me.” A male voice echoed within her mind.

She slowly turned her gaze toward the shifter. “Did you just speak?”

“I have been.” His lips didn’t move, but she heard his voice clearly.

There was a long silence as she gawked at him. “H-how are you talking without… your mouth?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to the spot he had bitten. ”The Draconian are a telepathic species.”

“What!?” Her mind raced. “Why couldn't I hear you before?”

His eyes shifted between hers, sporting an amused grin ”You are human.” The word 'human' wasn't exactly what he said. But the image linked to the word conveyed his meaning. ”Humans aren’t telepathic by nature.” He adds.

“Then how can I hear you now?” She murmured.

”I gave you my fires. You have been changed from the inside. Transformed.”

Her walls fluttered around the intrusion inside her. “Oh…” She was too stunned to speak, her mind struggling to grasp the reality of it all.

“What are you called?” He asked, lips brushing against the curve of her ear.

A hiss escapes her as his fangs graze her sensitive skin. A surge of fear courses through her, yet nothing comes of it.

“Why does it matter?” She says between clenched teeth. Her body trembled beneath his, ensnared like a bird in a cage by his powerful arms. Memories surface of her mother using her full name when she was in trouble, juxtaposed with the nickname her friends had coined – a name she much preferred.

”That’s a beautiful name.” His voice filled her head.

“What?! I didn’t say anything. I just… You can’t read my mind, can you?!” She eyed him in disbelief.

The dragon laughed, letting out a full-blown chuckle against her neck. ”I like how feisty you are. Yes, of course. You have my fires, I can read your mind.” He inhaled deeply against her neck. ”You smell fantastic… I could sense you from miles away.”

His words were accompanied by images that filled her mind of flowers and dewdrops on crisp green grass. Those weren’t her thoughts.

“Can… can I read yours too?”

He vocalized a hum and spoke in her head. ”Only if I let you.” He smirked, eyes half-lidded as his gaze moved over her facial features.

“How can I keep my thoughts to myself?!”

He smiled and finally pulled away. "I’ll teach you… maybe.”

“Maybe? Teach me now” She encouraged.

He laughed. ”I will teach you, in time.” He pledged, his hand gliding down her back in a comforting motion.

She was quickly growing accustomed to his voice resonating in her mind. She glanced behind her, capturing his smile illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the canopy. His fangs were only slightly longer than his regular teeth. Funny, they had felt much bigger when they pierced her skin.

He smiled even wider. ”You think I’m handsome?” His brows arched playfully.

She averted her gaze. “I’m not going to get used to the mindreading any time soon…” Thoughts of how the mind-reading would ruin her escape plans weighed heavily on her mind.

“Garreth.” His voice reverberated, drawing her away from her thoughts.

“What?” She scrunched her face.

”That is what I am called. Garreth.”

“Oh…” A tinge of remorse settled in for not asking.

”It’s all right.” His hands slid down her back, breath quickening. ”Are you ready now? You aren’t making distressed sounds anymore.” He pressed his hips forward against her ass, pushing his cock that much deeper.

"Damn it! I... Hold on!" She gasped, pressing her forehead against the ground. "Maybe I should turn around first? Lie on my back, perhaps? This position... it's hurting my knees."

Garreth narrowed his eyes. ”But this is how you mount a mate to claim them.” He said, tilting his head.

“A what!? I am not your, your mate!” She spat, attempting to pull away but failing as his hands tightened on her hips.

"You are. Your scent is perfect, just what I've been seeking all my life." The voice in her head took on a singsong tone. "And, you did agree."

“When!?” She asked, utterly flustered. A mental image flashed before her eyes. She saw herself, dirt-covered face, hair clinging to her skin, pointing at him and then to herself. “The pointing? That was… it..” Well damn, it was her telling him to just fuck her already. But she hadn't exactly signed up for being mates! “I didn’t want a full-blown mate! Just... I just thought.”

He sighed. ”I see what you thought. But, why would I want to do this…” He emphasized with a hard thrust. ”...with you only one time?”

She let out a soft whimper, her head spinning. “Okay, okay. …How long do ‘mates’ last?” She asked.

The dragon chuckled, leaning forward and trailing kisses down her spine while his hands moved up her stomach to cup her breasts. His fingers lightly caressed the soft skin, rubbing her nipples gently in small circles.

She pressed her forehead down to the ground, the scent of the earth filling her nose, and let out a long sigh. She just wished he'd started already. Her body was no longer throbbing at the intrusion and instead had prepared with extra lubricant for just the occasion.

”You’re so impatient.” His sensual voice echoed. ”But I'm ready to provide you with everything you desire, whenever you wish.”

With a firm grasp on her hips, he withdrew and thrust his cock into her.

“Ah! Oh.. my fucking gods…” Her moans vibrated into the earth.

”I love the noises you make with your mouth.” His voice sounded even but his vocal breaths told another story. He panted, pumping into her, filling her up over and over.

”Feels so good… I’m so full.” She thought in her mind. She sensed the words extending, stretching like tendrils in the void until she visualized Garreth’s face. She recognized the instant the words reached him, slotting into his mind like two puzzle pieces finally clicking together.

He moaned, thrusts getting sloppy the faster he went. His red wings beat, creating a gust of wind that tousled her hair around her face.

An image of flying took shape in her thoughts. Lush hills filled with green trees, mist filling the canopy and rising toward the morning sun. Soaring and the rush of diving toward the earth, catching oneself on the wind with outstretched wings filled her mind. With the rush coming from these visuals he was sending her, she knew he was close to release.

"You're too perfect.” His words touched her mind.

“Can we try the other position? Please. As much as I’m enjoying this…” She asked, knees pressing hard against the ground. “If you hate it, we can change back.” She sent him a vision of her on her back and him close enough to kiss her.

He said something explicit in his head she couldn't attach to an English word. He pulled out, slowly, carefully.

”Show me.” He breathed heavily, waving his hand and gesturing for her to roll over. ”I will entertain my mate’s request” He added with a proud smile.

She did, rolling until her back met the ground, feeling the tickle of grass and crushed wildflowers against her skin. She adjusted until her feet were pressing down, legs spread in front of him. “Okay, now… do it.” She urged, red coloring her cheeks.

He gazed at her with wonder. An image of herself flooded her mind. Seeing her own reflection through his eyes was otherworldly. It was as if he had a lens that made her look ethereal, illuminated by the sunlight, her hair cascading behind her. The line between his thoughts and hers blurred, and she marveled at how she appeared. She had never considered herself more than ordinary, yet in this vision, she appeared divine, almost like a goddess.

He carefully grabbed her thighs, lifting her legs off the ground as he moved closer to her. His gaze fixed on her with a sense of wonder, like a starstruck fan. He moved slowly, deliberately, lining his cock up with her entrance once more.

”Radiant, beautiful, gorgeous.” His thoughts enveloped her consciousness, painting a vivid portrait of admiration, sliding back inside her with minimal effort. "All mine”

She closed her eyes, his cock sliding and pushing against all the right spots. She tilted her head back and slid her hands up his chest, loving the way he eagerly leaned into her touch.

”I like this position.” He thought. ”I like the human way.”

She let out a sigh, watching his face drawing nearer to hers. "Kiss me," she whispered. His smile wavered, and he blinked in surprise. When he didn't respond she asked, "What? Draconians don't kiss?"

She projected an image into his mind of two people locked in a passionate kiss, followed by an image of him leaning down and meeting her lips. He blinked a few times and followed her vision, leaning down until their lips met. His movements were somewhat rigid and awkward.

She snickered, arms encircling his neck. "I suppose not. Here," she whispered, pressing her lips against his and repeating the gesture. He drank in the sensations and swiftly reciprocated the kiss. When her tongue ventured between his lips, he drew back, his gaze locked onto her mouth.

"Too much?" she inquired, concern filling her mind. She worried she’d offended him in some way.

"Not at all." He shook his head, drawing a deep breath. "I was surprised.”

She grinned up at him. “Want to try again?”

He nodded, his hand cradling her face, his gaze focused on her lips. As their mouths met, he immediately slid his tongue into her mouth. He rolled his hips, sliding deep, and pulling moans from her.

She kissed him back passionately, fingers digging into his hair. He braced himself above her, his claws sinking into the soil. He thrust faster, rocking her entire body with the movement.

As his kisses became sloppy, their teeth collided, and she felt the sharpness of his fangs. She broke the kiss, her heart racing. But he lunged forward again, his lips meeting hers with urgency.

"I won't hurt you.” His reassurance echoed in her mind.

Using her mental voice since his lips were on hers, she responded with a mental image of the bite mark and the words ”You already did!”

”I had to do that, so you could survive this claiming.”

"What!" She pulled back from the kiss, breathlessly. "What does that mean? What are you saying?" She asked him to explain, but he simply smiled.

”You needed to be the same body temperature as me, otherwise… I'd scorch you.” Lines creased his forehead. ”I don’t want my mate to die.”

“Mate… I- Okay we will circle back to that. What would cause me to get scorched?” She kept her hands on his shoulders, holding his kiss at bay.

”My body, my fluids… Your body is incompatible with me unless we share my fires.”

“Fires? Was that what was in the bite you gave me? I have so many questions…”

He nuzzled her face, inhaling deeply. "We have all the time in the world. I'll happily answer your questions day and night. I promise. But for now…” He punctuated his statement with a thrust of his hips.

She groaned and nodded. "Fine, but I want answers. All of them. Deal?"

”Absolutely, deal” His thoughts brimmed with amusement aimed at her. ”After.”

Shaking her head, she draped her arm over her eyes as he quickened his pace. He breathed heavily, peeling himself from her body and sitting back on his bent legs. He held her legs up, pushing his torso against her thighs.

”Is this good?’ He asked, his gaze scanning her face.

She peeked from under her arm. "Yes... Oh, yes... It's amazing." she whimpered.

Her legs trembled as he held them tight. She sucked in air through her teeth, hissing as he hit her in all the right spots to make her see stars. The slick wet sounds filled the air mixing with his low grunts. Every thrust, every pump pushed her body with such intensity that she felt like a ragdoll.

“So good…” Her feet dangled in the air while he supported her legs. Her stomach muscles tightened, and she reached out, clutching his arm. Her nails dug in, and despite his gentle humanoid exterior, she discovered his skin was thick and impenetrable.

"I’m going to fill you up.” The mind speak drifted into her head. She was dazed, barely registering what he said. Her mind was elsewhere as his cock pounded her senselessly.

“Close- I’m… Ah!” She moaned, core muscles flexing as her cunt throbbed.

”Yes.” The voice in her head encouraged. He moaned, pumping faster while the orgasm had her gushing out onto the forest floor.

“Holy shit!” She exclaimed, locking eyes with him in a heated exchange. His eyes were mesmerizing, like precious gemstones reflecting the purest hues of an emerald.

”You look so beautiful under me.” He said affectionately, fingers pressing into her thigh, and sharp nails scraping lines on her skin. "You're so pretty. I’ll never get tired of looking at you.” He praised.

She wasn't attempting to escape out of fear anymore. She pulled away because he was buried so deeply within her, and her inner walls felt fatigued and overstimulated. “It’s too much!” She groaned, her entire body trembling like a leaf. "Oh my..."

”I’m close, please-” He begged. ”I’m so close” He kept the same intense rhythm, lowering her legs. He leaned over her form, his arms bracing on the ground on either side of her torso. His face hovered just inches from hers.

She stopped her escape and instead, let the overstimulation become her. Gasps and grunts passed between them, his face close enough to kiss if he wasn’t fucking her so fervently. Her eyes pinched shut as a second, weaker, orgasm pulsed in her core. She whimpered, almost crying as the friction became too much. If he hadn't wrapped her in his arms, the force of his hips would have pushed her away.

Garreth praised her for keeping up with him, whispering sweet words into her thoughts. His teeth gently grazed her neck, and his tongue traced along her skin. With a single flap of his wings, a gust of wind swirled around them.

Garreth then thrust to the hilt, his body stilling. He held his breath for a moment, then his cock throbbed inside her. A searing heat filled her deep and she pinched her eyes closed, teeth gritting.

She gasped as the sensation rippled through her, her fingers digging into his back, cautious of where his wings were. She desperately pulled him closer, longing for the space between their bodies to disappear. His forehead pressed against her cheek, muscles twitching as his searing cum filled her to the brim, seeping out, and dripping onto the forest floor. He panted, arms holding her to his chest as he breathed through the last remaining throws of his orgasm.

“Garreth,” She moaned. No matter how she tried to relax, her muscles were forced to their limit with him still inside her. Her ears rang as her heart pounded in her skull.

He placed a trembling hand on her lower abdomen and pressed down. She gasped, feeling just how deep inside her he was. A whimper escaped her when he pressed again.

"You're mine.” He murmured against her ear. "I’m yours. And nothing-” He growled ”...will ever come between us.”

She cried out when he removed himself from her body. She choked on a sob, feeling her core muscles finally relax. Her thighs were covered in slickness from their combined fluids.

"You're so beautiful…” He claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.

She kissed him back, sounds of pleasure still slipping passed her lips. His strong hands cradled her face as his tongue dipped into her mouth.

“Mm, wow…” She sighed, finally catching her breath.

Their mouths met with a fierce hunger, lips pressing hard, vanishing the air from her lungs.

His hands moved all over her body, cupping her breasts with his massive palms. His thumbs ran over her nipples and she arched into his touch.

“I’m really sensitive right now.” she whimpered, placing a few soft kisses on his lips. His stamina was truly remarkable.

He smiled. "I understand.” He trailed kisses down her neck to her collarbone. "I did that to you.” He stated proudly.

"Yes, you certainly did," She agreed breathlessly.

”Time to head home soon.” He said, planting one final kiss on her cheek before moving his head between her legs in a swift motion.

“What? Home? What do you mea-!”

His tongue ran down her slit, gathering their mixed fluids. He licked and sucked between her folds, cleaning up the mess he’d made. He hummed, burying his face as close as he possibly could.

“What are you doing!?” She gasped, a moan escaping from her increasingly raspy voice.

”Cleaning you up so I can take you home.” He assured her in his mind, tongue moving up and down her wet thighs. It was a mix of ticklishness and sinful pleasure. She indulged in both, relaxing back on the soft grass.

He focused on her entrance next, moaning into her cunt, devouring her essence. She could sense his immense pleasure from the delightful thoughts that floated through his mind. His tongue repeatedly brushed against her clit and she shuddered.

Her exhausted stomach muscle contracted, and she cried out, “Okay! I’m spent! I can’t… not another one. Please!” Her hoarse voice carried a pleading tone as she pushed on his red waves, trying to move him away from her center.

He smirked, savoring one final inhale before leaning back and respecting her wish. His wings folded against his back as he stretched his arms upward and to the side.

She shut her eyes, taking deep breaths to regain her composure. Her legs closed, and she could already feel the onset of soreness in her muscles.

Garreth reclined next to her in the grass, a contented smile on his face. "You're the most beautiful mate.”

“We’re going to need to have a long conversation about that.” She remarked,

Garreth chuckled and effortlessly pulled her onto his chest as if she weighed nothing. He brushed hair away from her face, allowing her to nestle into his larger frame.

Taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly, her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion taking over. “Do you ever use your voice to speak?” She asked, unintentionally yawning in his face. He appeared unfazed by her less-than-polite action.

She watched him as the silence stretched. His eyes squinted like he was about to sneeze before his lips formed the sound “Ssur,” He looked pleased with himself, followed by light laughter.

“That wasn’t a word.” She struggled to hold back a laugh.

”But I spoke it with my mouth.”

“Do you even speak any language?” She asked.

"I didn't know human mates had so many questions. I will be happy to answer them all but I can’t all at once.” He stretched, keeping her nestled against his chest. "I love how curious you are. You were most definitely made for me.”

“But you will answer them eventually, right?”

”Of course,”

“Do you know anyone else with a human… well, 'mate'?”

Garreth pat her back with a small smile. “That is another question.”

Amused, she chuckled. “Oh, sorry. Okay, I’ll zip it for now. I promise. I need some rest, now…”

”First, home, then rest and cuddles, and after that, I'll satisfy your curiosity.”

“Where is-” She paused. “Never mind... Another question…”

”This is our home.” He projected images into her mind— a mountainside with a cavernous opening in its flank.

“That's… high.” She gazed up at the sky, the images from her mind blending with the real world.

”Those humans you were with, they abandoned you.” His words were laced with annoyance. "I will not do that. I won’t leave you here alone. Especially since you don't have claws to defend yourself.”

“How did you know there were other people?” She asked curiously.

”I could smell them nearby when I found you.”

Her face scrunched in annoyance. They were close by, after all, just hiding like cowards and leaving her to die. She honestly couldn’t blame them, unsure of what she would have done in that same situation.

"I promise to take care of you.” His fingers tenderly followed the curve of her jawline. "I will provide you with anything you could possibly need. And, I will strive to give you everything you want.”

Through their mental bond, she believed every word he said. He forged his fires in her veins, binding them mentally, emotionally, and physically. Now, their connection was complete, making her just as much his as he was hers.

With care, Garreth helped her sit up. He followed suit, rising to his feet. "We both need to freshen up and have a warm meal.” He brushed dirt off himself.

The thought of food made her stomach rumble. “I’m starving…” She didn’t know the last time she had a proper meal.

His smile widened. "I know... I've seen your thoughts full of bread and cheeses.” He extended a hand to help her stand.

“My clothes…” She looked around at the tattered cloth. “They’re… unsalvageable.”

Garreth furrowed his brow. "I will get you more.” He assured. "Now, I must transform to take us back. Will you be comfortable riding in my hand?”

She looked down at his humanoid hand with uncertainty. “Um…”

Garreth's laughter resonated in his chest. ”My Draconian hand is much larger. You will fit in the palm of it. Don’t worry. Can I shift now? Will you be okay?” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, gaze on hers.

She could feel his worry clouding her mind. There had been a load of anxiety the last time she saw his dragon form.

She nodded finally. "Yes. I’m ready.”

Garreth took several steps back, pupils changing to slits before his skin erupted into gleaming garnet scales. With a resounding roar, his body expanded, reshaping itself into the colossal dragon that had previously frightened her.

”You're safe.” He reassured her mentally. "It's still me.” He took one large step toward her, the ground rumbling with the weight of his limbs.

She willed herself to stand her ground, reminding herself that this was Garreth—the man, or rather dragon, who had claimed her, who had promised protection and care.

Garreth extended one massive, claw-tipped hand, waiting patiently. His breathing was much louder, punctuated by intermittent gruff sounds.

Summoning her courage, she stepped forward, hand gliding over thick red scales until she nestled within his palm. He patiently waited for her to find a good position, securing herself in place by clasping onto one of his massive digits.

Garreth gradually closed his fingers, cradling her against his chest as though holding a precious jewel.

"Hold on tight. I’ve got you, okay?”

"Okay.” Poking her head out of his hand, she watched as he limped on three limbs to the clearing.

As the dragon prepared for flight, his wings unfurled with a sound like distant thunder. Garreth’s wings stretched out with an astonishing span, each membranous expanse flexing as he eyed the sky. With a powerful thrust, he launched himself into an open expanse. Each mighty stroke of his wings sent shockwaves through the air, leaving behind a whirlwind that ruffled the trees. She held onto his digit, feeling safe and tucked away against his hard chest.

He broke through the canopy, leaving the spot where they met behind. In flight, his wings pumped fiercely, propelling them forward. The wind and his wings were a harmonious bond between raw strength and the sky, a union that was nothing short of breathtaking. He adjusted fluidly, tilting to catch currents and riding the winds effortlessly. His body cast a massive shadow on the ground below.

As she peaked out from under his claws, she looked down and the open air made her stomach drop. She gripped his fingers tightly, a chill rushing through her that had nothing to do with the wind whipping past. He sent her images of his home again, a cozy cavern in the mountain. She saw a small room with a large bed made out of piles and piles of blankets, a desk with books and quills, and a bookshelf stuff with more trinkets than books.

The wind roared in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. Pressed against his chest, she could feel the dragon's muscles working in rhythmic harmony, each beat of his wings translating into a forward surge, propelling them higher and higher. The landscape rolled and undulated beneath them, a living canvas painted with forests, rivers, and mountains.

With every powerful stroke of the dragon's wings, she felt weightless, suspended between earth and sky. It was as if gravity itself had loosened its grip. Among all these things was the undeniable sense of freedom.

And then, gazing into the infinite horizon, she felt a sense of unity with the dragon, with Garreth— in addition to the bond they already forged. She marveled at the world from a perspective reserved for the extraordinary, recognizing that this was a moment that would forever etch itself into her mind.

Thank you for reading!

I want to say this is the longest fic I have ever written in all my years in various fandoms. I am shocked it came out this massive, but it is fitting given the content lol.

Drop a comment and let me know what you think! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this labor of love.

Masterlist is in my bio. || Cross-posted on Ao3

#garreth weasley #weasley wednesday #garreth weasley x mc #hogwarts legacy

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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year

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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

#loren's fic recs #ateez fic recs #ateez fic #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #prince ateez #badboy ateez #bodyguard ateez #android ateez #chef ateez #fratboy ateez #ateez headcanons

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vintagerpg · 1 year

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When I think of Osprey Publishing, I think of military history. Specifically, I think of their huge, beautifully illustrated series detailing military uniforms and equipment for specific regions, unit and time periods (Angus McBride of MERP fame illustrated quite a few of them during his career). So when I heard Osprey was producing RPGs, I figured they would be stuffy, if pretty, things, focusing on military style play. Twilight 2000 through the ages, or some such. Nope! Not at all. Totally wrong.

This is Paleomythic (2019), and it release alongside Romance of the Perilous Land as Osprey’s first RPG. Author Graham Rose calls it “stone and sorcery” and it is a compact system that powers play peppered with ideas not often touched on in RPGs. The mechanics are very similar to Year Zero Engine — attributes and skills translate to a number of six-sided dice that a rolled for checks, sixes count as successes. Injuries reduce attributes, and thus the number of dice rolled. A number of character templates offer special abilities or magic (all of which, rather than having discrete systems, have effects tied to attributes). The low tech increases the importance of equipment, which is limited and mostly utilitarian (containers are a big deal, for instance). Combat is quick and easy, with weapons having keyword traits that determine their effects.

The whole thing is lean and fast; the focus of the game is on survival and exploration in a stone age setting not often explored in RPGs. The rest of the book gives the GM tools to create the world and populate it with monsters, hazards, tribal groups and pockets of civilization. Again, the low tech makes even the most mundane RPG scenario seed feel like an epic undertaking. I didn’t think this would feel so exciting, but it does! Gimme a wood club, a bow and a need to find some specific herbs for the tribal elder and I’m all set, I guess. The fact that the art and layout is gorgeous help a lot, as does the sample adventure.

#roleplaying game #ttrpg #tabletop rpg #dungeons & dragons #d&d #rpg #Osprey Publishing #Paleomythic

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theetherealbloom · 18 days

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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

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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.

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