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leeknowsintrusivethots · 7 months ago

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A Stray Concubine

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Pairings: Prince!Lee Know/You, Prince!Bangchan/You, RivalNoble!Hyunjin/You? We are all about possibility here. Summary: Entering into a harem choosing was something you have been groomed for since you were young. Your aim is to make Crown Prince Christopher fall at your heels in order to restore your ruined family name and fortune, but games of love are much harder than games of lies and deceit. Content: Angst (is it me if it's not?), slow burn, smut(warnings below when applicable), fictional historical universe, dark themes, second person perspective, historical-typical gender roles, imperial harem-inspired concubine system, multi-pov, lotsa plot/world building, political intrigue WC: 5246 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites.

Taglist: @blondechannie @torialefay

Notes: Things got out of hand. Side note, our main character now has a last name to avoid the excessive use of 'Y/N.'

You

“I’ve heard the young Lord Hwang is here in the Capital for the festivities.”

“I do wonder what the the Lord is up to now. 'Twas a nasty business with his parents' death and all.”

A flutter of feminine words carried by the cool breeze of dusk. They were as hollow as the chirping of birds, but with the weight of lords clanging swords.

“I suppose that's why he's here,” the middle aged gentleman said conspiratorially to his companion. He was dressed in the fine, rich fabrics of the upper class, but his dress did not hide the lascivious glances he would steal at the young woman he spoke to.

It was another lesson you had learned: social standing was meaningless when it came to the lustful notions of men. It didn't matter King, priest or commoner; all men floundered their morals when presented with something pretty dressed in silks. This gentleman was no different.

“It's such a shame to have felt such tragedy so young,” the woman said softly. It was another flutter, a fine beating of appropriate sympathy and poise. Whatever lot she had hailed from, she had been trained well.

“Oh,” the gentleman intoned with a glance around him. He seemed to be looking for something, or someone. He scanned the ladies and lords who conversed and drank around him quickly before his eyes settled. He was looking directly at you.

You had been wandering through the throngs, seeing and being seen for most of the festivities. You had to ensure you played your part of a well-bred lady making connections. It also served to listen; gauging the mood of the nobles who inhabited the palace alongside the royal residents. You had expected attention, but none so blatant.

“But I do hear the daughter of the Wicked Witch of House Sterling is in attendance,” the man stated, loudly enough for his feminine companion, you, and everyone within the breadth of the long table he occupied to hear. Lords and ladies alike recoiled as if hit. Some laughed with unease, but most seemed unsettled by the reminder of years past.

“My Lord,” she exclaimed with exaggerated scandal covering her classically attractive features. She fanned herself as if the wave of her hand could rid her of the shock of his statement. “Is it true?”

“It is, my dear. They say The Witch and her daughter ensorcel men with the bat of their lashes, and use their livelihood to keep themselves young and beautiful. I fear for the young bucks of the court.”

The woman saw her cue, and like any well trained woman – she took it. She leaned in with the bat of her own lashes to whisper into the man's ear. At her attention, his own wandered from you back to her and her hands on his weak shoulders. She pulled back just far enough to wink directly at you. She was playing the game, and she was playing it well.

Grateful for her intervention, you gathered your skirts loosely in hand and set off through the crowds.

The banquet hall of the palace was large enough to house the entirety of the nobles in the realm and most of their major retainers as well. It was a grand structure with elegance and richness built into the very walls. Tapestries with the heraldry of the Bangs hung from every beam and nook— The yellow eyes of the black and white wolf following all those who dared their presence with a sly keenness.

The women who made up the King's Harem had their own heraldry, passed down from the families they hailed from and kept if only as a token of fondness from their lives before. They were not permitted to hang in places of state, nor were they permitted to even be within eyesight of the Wolf. It was a threat to their power to place such importance on lower houses, and could be seen as an act of treason to even suggest such.

It was a shame. The banners of houses Seo and Yang in particular were vibrant and colorful. They would have brought life to the white, gray and black of House Bang but nothing could overshadow the crowned wolves.

Your thoughts of banners and symbols were a distraction from what you planned. The beating of your heart had its own flutter, one far less beautiful and flattering than the woman from earlier. It's crescendo sped as you stepped into the line of courtiers that neatly led up to the dais where the royal family sat like pretty paintings. The line moved, but painstakingly slow. It inched forward like the crawling of a slug after a hard rain, and you could only wish someone would salt you and be done with it.

Those in front and behind you chatted and carried about merrily as they waited their turn. They were of two sorts: simple creatures who had neither hide nor hair in the affairs of court or sordid schemers whose flattery and lies were concealed enough to be on the winning end. They had no fears of how their presence would be received by the rulers of their realm. They were safe, while your head was already placed on the metaphorical chopping block.

Your only hope at calm were the banners.

Every time the herald at the head of the procession called out names and titles, you brought their banners to mind. House Jeon, Lords of the Anpanman Woods: a wooded forest with an archer riding atop a monstrous hare at its forefront. House Wang, Wardens of the Southern Border: a thin sword with a snarling hound’s head as the pommel. House Kwon, Protectors of the Treasures of the East Sea: an extravagantly colorful sea dragon dripping in molten gold as it ascends from a deep blue ocean. House Min, Keepers of the Western Jungles: a rare, white tiger stalking amongst a dark green growth.

Every Great Lord was in attendance with their minor counterparts, and every one of them had their proud banners and symbols with deep rooted history and lore. You had been taught all of them by your tutors in your childhood, growing up with stories of their conquests and lineages.

You remembered that House Jeon was one of the youngest of the great houses, rising to power by claiming the timber bounty of their woods. House Wang was older and more storied, a history of mismatched allegiances with the King across the wastes and ancient claims to the Crown of Miroh. House Kwon was even older and as powerful as it was queer: Sea Lords with ties to the Free Isles in the West. House Min was the most shrouded. They were covered in the mythos of legends, with fact and fiction blurring reality.

“Lord Hyunjin, of House Hwang, Keepers of the Heartlands,” the Herald called. Their banners depict a common ferret curling around a brilliant sapphire. They were upstarts who had risen with the Bang's rule; they were no friends of you or yours.

You watched as the handsome Lord smiled and jested with the Royals, even with stern King Bang himself. He seemed to pay close attention to the Princes’ Christopher and Felix. It would not do to dwell, but you noted his connections with a keen interest.

The Hwang's had been close to the crown for more than two centuries, since the House Bang had risen from their ancestral home of the Forded Rivers to claim the throne through blood and war. The Hwang's had been Champions of the cause, steadfast allies of the offensive in the Red Rebellion . Their loyalty had not been forgotten and their rise had been meteoric and quick compared to the lengthy reigns of other Great Houses. In a matter of a few generations, they had risen from titles minor landholders to a major power in the politics of the realm. You had no doubt that Lord Hwang sought even more favors with the friendships he curried with the Princes.

As you continued your wait, you watched the man in question lobby about. He was tall, but graceful and as elegant as any old house could be. Even as he spoke to fellow couriers, he was refined but approachable in a way that most were not. He smiled coyly at another courtier before his eyes met yours and his lips fell flat. You averted your gaze quickly, your mind faltering. You had not killed Princess Mai, but his stare suggested otherwise.

“Young Lady Sterling,” was all you received from the Herald when your time came. There were no titles, no honors, no places of power. All you had was a family name that was dying, connected to a murderous traitor.

Relying on your training in graces and decorum, you dropped to your knees and bowed to the family who ruled the lands you called home and recited words from a distant memory. “Of bravery and courage, of rule and might; blessed and long be your reign.”

“You may rise,” King Bang commanded.

And so you rose to regard the man who condemned your father to death.

He sat in the middle of the dais with his queen to his right and his Most Favored, Beauty Lee, to his left. She was as resplendent as ever in expensive silks with her hair coiffed into the most stylish fashion with a pleasant smile curving her rouged lips. The queen was more somber. She wore the dark purple hues of royalty, and kept a regality that was unapproachable to say the least. She regarded you coolly, but you could see the hostility in her eyes. Princess Mai had been her natural daughter.

“You certainly favor your mother,” King Bang commented gruffly. It was not an exclamation of emotion, it was a simple observation.

“I’m pleased to hear I have my mother's charms, Your Majesty,” you replied with eloquence. You spoke softly, keeping a demure coyness about yourself that you had honed to a fine art.

“She was always a welcome sight,” the King added. Courtly arrogance mixed with courtly love. He too was playing the game. He blessed you with a smile that had the scar at the corner of his mouth standing to prominence before posing a question that had you caught off guard. “Which one of my sons is it then?”

“I'm sorry your majesty, I don't–”

“Is it the laughing and fierce Prince Jeongin? Or mayhaps the shy and courtly Prince Jisung? Or do you prefer the bold and strong Prince Changbin?”

“I–”

“Or perhaps your mother plans to aim higher?” He barreled along, his words never losing the flirting intrigue of courtly love but gaining the edge of a longsword. He glanced down the table of the dais, past his queen and to the silver crown threaded with dark iron wolves that sat atop Price Christopher’s head. He made no comment, but he did give you a look akin to pity. You hated it that look and everything it stood for.

“Your Majesty,” you spoke, inflicting an intentional waver to your voice and forcing your eyes to water with tears. It was not hard to fein being the weak, scared girl that King Bang required of you. “I would never dare to presume any grand intentions. I a humble servant of the crown, and I will do whatever you require to earn your love back for the House Sterling.”

“I owe no love to your family, young lady, and I never intend to. House Sterling is dying, and I will not save the family of Traitors. It's only by the good graces of your Mother that you both were not banished across the northern border.” The edge was dulling. One flutter. Two flutters. A few more until it wouldn't even be able to cut butter.

“My mother has retaken her maiden name, returning to the mantle of the Jeons. I have no such luxury, Your Majesty. I will forever be cursed by the sins of my father, but I will forever work to make amends.” A flutter of a sweet song. Honeyed with the naivety of a girl, and blessed to come from pretty lips. The blade was dulled, but you were set on making it crumble to iron dust.

“And how would you do that?”

“Put me to work, Your Majesty. I will slave as a Maid until I earn your love, or my death.”

A rumble went up behind you at your proclamation. You paid them no mind. Your attention was on the King.

He's the king of a realm. Make him feel like the King of the world. The only man within your sights. The highest of them all– a God.

“The youngest of the formerly Great House Sterling content to scrub floors and empty chamber pots?”

“My House’s pride is nothing to me. I serve the crown before all others. My duty is to to realm, Your Majesty– to you.” You dropped to your knees to peform the formal bow again. It was a sign of respect, a sign of your servitude.

“You may outdo your mother's charms yet,” the King remarked with a hidden smile playing in the shadows his golden, heavily bejewelled crown cast upon his face. “I will discuss your plight with my Councilors, Lady Sterling. Until a decision is made, you are welcome to feast and revel in the glory of the Royal Court.”

“You are most kind and just, Your Majesty.” You stood from the ground with the help of the Herald. He touched you delicately and respectfully as the flutters stirred up the dust of iron. You had won. It was a small victory, the first of many, but it was still a victory.

In the haze of the glittering particles, the court watched.

Beauty Lee regarded you with renewed interest. Queen Bang was stony, her murderous eyes portraying her displeasure but no words leaving her pursed lips. The Princes all watched with varying levels of interest in their Father's affairs, but the only one whom mattered still looked at you with pity.

It stoked your anger. You were a daughter of the Great Sterlings, former Wardens of the war torn Northern Borders. Your family was fierce and proud, tempered by the harsh climate and the even harsher hands of the war torn barbarians. You had the blood of warlords, conquers, and leaders. You may strip your pride to appease the King, but it would always be in your heart. You hated the Princes' pity, but you could use it in the same way you used the King's fondness for beautiful damsels.

His son would be no different. He would fall at your feet, ready to restore you and your family for no other reason than the love of being a hero for a the songs of singers across the continent. It was as simple as playing him like the harp you spent so many hours practicing. His tune would be notes of restoration and riches.

“Lady Sterling!” A boy called as you made for the Hall’s exit for a breath of fresh air and to revel in your victory. He was young, freshed faced with the hint of acne playing across his forehead. He dressed in the livery of House Wang: the metallic glint of iron present on all the accents of his dark clothing. He bowed politely before handing you a scratch of gray fabric.

It was rimmed with shiny silver thread and had intricate wolves with gems inlaid into the fabric for eyes at all four corners. The initials LMH elegantly scrawled along the center in delicate lines and swirls.

It was a royal favor, but not the one you had desired.

Christopher

To the great ire of their father, Minho had refused his place on the dais.

The refusal had led to a screaming match that could be heard in the next wing. The roars of his brother and father filled the halls with curses and anger. It only worsened when Minho refused to attend the festivities all together. King Bang had threatened to have him whipped, to which Minho had laughed maniacally and downed the rest of the fire whiskey he insisted on having on hand with his father.

“Do it! I've learned well how to bear pain, Father,” Minho screamed in rage at the threat.

Christopher wasn't certain on what lengths King Bang would have gone had he not stepped in with a sobbing Beauty Lee at his heels. He wasn't even certain on which had calmed the King; his intervention and promises to handle his wayward brother or the tears drenching Beauty Lee's silks. Either way, he had relented and Minho had avoided the whip.

It was the beginning of a deadly dance. He would have to balance the both of them: his father's hot headed rages, and his brother’s own uncontrolled hatred. The price of losing would not be a simple sore foot. A wrong step could ripple across the floor and disrupt the entire performance; sending everyone toppling to their dooms.

“That was the murderer?” Changbin asked from his side. The third prince had been too preoccupied with his food and the ladies milling about to pay much attention to the King's audiences. He had only taken note when the girl had fallen to her knees to prostrate herself in desperation.

“She's no murderer,” Christopher chided.

“Did her family kill our sister or not, Chris?” Changbin countered with annoyance. Anger simmered just under the surface. Princess Mai was a sore topic even so many years later.

“They did. She did not. She was just a kid when it happened.” They had all been young then. A child's blissful ignorance was no place for the blame of their parents’ faults. All of the Princes' should know that, but Christopher knew it most.

“Mai was just a kid, too. An innocent, sweet, lively and damn charming kid. Had she lived, I would probably be in debt for sweets and dresses. I would have been a beggar proudly for our baby sister, yet you take up in defense for the blood of her murderer?”

“I miss Mai as much as you do, more even, but her murderer was executed. There's nothing else for us to do,” Christopher shot back. He was feeling his own anger rise. There were few things that he wouldn't do for his family, his siblings. Changing the past was not within his realm of capabilities.

“Are you truly that much of a fool?” Changbin asked incredulously. His anger was still held tightly in check.

“Is it foolishness to allow a person to pave their own path?” Christopher returned. He lacked the heat of his younger brother. He could never be mad at any of the boys who shared his blood. They were all young, still finding their way into manhood and rule with the black and white lens of good and evil. If only the world were so simply colored.

“It's foolishness that could end in an early grave.”

It was not Changbin who answered. The voice was feminine, but hard. It was the voice of a woman who had seen too much, been forced to harden her edges at the behest of those in power around her.

Queen Bang regarded her natural son and his brother with a stern stare. The panes of her face were sharp, severe even. Hers was a beauty that didn't often mesh with the other ladies of the palace. It was refined but not delicate; the type of face that would strike fear in a man's heart as much as lust. It had both Christopher and Changbin sealing their lips tight to stave off any protest that bubbled.

“This is not appropriate banquet conversation,” she stated with a final withering stare before turning her attention back to the audiences entertaining the King. He was deep in conversation with a Captain from the Free Isles about some strange sea beast that had been spotted. From the look of the table, he was also deep in his cups as he boasted about hunts from his youth of beasts of yore.

Taking the reprieve, Christopher searched the room for Minho. He had promised he would at least be present, wandering the room discreetly so as not to raise gossip about the Second Prince being excluded from the dais. He was to have his first pick of any Lady that caught his eye, and he had only to choose one– one gentlelady to give his father the illusion that the wayward Prince had been subdued into court life.

Of course, Minho had to make even a simple task an effort in patience and persistence.

However, Christopher could not have patience. It went against everything he knew and everything he was, but he had to act. There was no room for error, nor weakness in the Court of Miroh.

At a look, the page was running towards him. He was well dressed in the colors of his Liege, the fabric glinting in the light like polished iron. With a well placed command and Changbin watching curiously, the boy took off with quick feet and vigor for a promised knighthood.

A future King had to be a man of action.

Minho

The palace library was a place of wonder for any intrepid mind. It was filled with the works of great scholars and war strategists renowned for their taciturn. Works from all across the world, they told of histories, battles, and gentleman's philosophy. It was all knowledge that any young man should know, approved by the crown and kept up by an army of ever present eunuchs who dusted the shelves and kept the sight fit for royalty.

Tomes upon tomes of knowledge lined the high walls with ladders placed at intervals to reach the topmost shelves. The tops of the ladders ended in marbled ceilings that supported the second floor balcony. It was a wide open walkway lined with yet more books that opened up to show the floor below.

Minho had spent a lot of his youth in the brightly lit rotunda. He studied with his appointed tutors, absorbing the knowledge a spare must have like a sponge desperate for hydration. Even when the old men would give him leave, he would stay. Day would turn to dusk as he poured over the words of wise men.

But Minho had learned what the library could teach him. When he had reached out for more, he had been denied. The Library eunuchs had told him that they held all the knowledge in the world in their shelves. His tutors had brushed off his queries with well mannered hands. His father had outright scoffed and berated him to work harder at his swordsmanship instead of wasting his time with yet more books.

Desperate for more, Minho had sought knowledge through travel.

His early years had seen him guesting the courts of Great and Lesser Lords, browsing their own shelves for things he had yet to learn. Each time, he was disappointed. Each time, he moved on with more vigor. It wasn't until his desperation took him to the city taverns, art houses, and lone monasteries in tall, reclusive mountains that he learned the greatest lesson of his life: through understanding of life could never be found until one experienced the people of the world itself.

He had come to hate the palace library, disdaining the time he had wasted learning what was deemed appropriate for a Prince. It was unfortunate that it was an excellent place to find a quiet and unassuming corner with few ears that listened. It was even more deserted with the Selection happening. No Lords browsed the shelves, and few eunuchs were on duty.

“How have you been, old friend?” Hwang Hyunjin asked as he slid into the seat next to Minho. They were cushioned and pushed into an empty corner, meant for spending hours reading.

“Better,” Minho answered. The table between them held a silvered platter complete with three tumblers and a decanter of liquor. He poured them both a drink and took a healthy swallow of his own.

“Does the idea of Miroh court life distress you so much?”

“As much as having my manhood chopped off,” he answered wryly.

“I'm sure our glorious King would love to have that arranged if you don't fall in line,” Jackson Wang joked as he took a third seat. He squeezed in next to Hyunjin, the table separating the Prince from his guests.

“Yes. He would,” Minho agreed grimly. Another sip of the liquor had fire burning in his throat. He poured some for the new arrival in the empty glass.

“It needs not be that way,” Hyunjin stated. “It's as simple as doing what he asks.”

“I will not, and I'm surprised you would even suggest such.”

Minho had spent time with almost all the Lords of Miroh. He had supped in their dining halls, listened in on their councils, advocated for reform favoring the small folk with what attention he curried. He was familiar with them all, but none more so than Lords Wang and Hwang. They were as close to him as his own brothers. They knew his views and he knew theirs.

“We have discussed this before. If you want to seek change, you have to be in a position to do so,” Jackson said. He picked up his tumbler and sniffed the liquid indulgently before taking a healthy swallow.

“And it shall not be by so blatantly ignoring your father's wishes,” Hyunjin added. His own glass remained untouched.

“You wish me to abandon everything I believe and play the part?” Minho was annoyed, but not surprised. This was a normal point of contention in the trio.

“Jackson controls the Southern Border. I have dominion over most of the Midland Plains. We have influence, but with a Prince advocating to our ends, we could scarcely be denied”, Hyunjin said, passion deepening with every word. It was the same old conversation, but never had he pushed so blatantly. Minho's return to Court seemed to heighten his resolve.

“We could not risk altering the realm within a fortnight. We have to play the long Game. Even revealing our cards too soon could lose us royal favor, and power. Your father is not so inclined to a liberal nature,” Jackson added. He had abandoned his seat all together, glass of liquor in hand.

“The long game is waiting until Christopher is crow–”

“Your brother is a strong and moral Prince, but he is a traditionalist. Even in him, you will not find the ally you think,” Hyunjin cut off Minho's protest.

“If you are suggesting we overthrow my brother, you won't have to deal with my father. I'll have your head of my own accord,” Minho spat, sudden anger getting the best of him. His brother's all had their faults, but he would forever be loyal to them.

“We would never suggest such a thing, but he will need the right people around him when he ascends. The current Council, baring myself and Lord Wang, are all bootlicking yes-men with traditionalist loyalties. They would see the same wars and the same laws in place for eternity,” Hyunjin countered.

“Ah, the Late Lord Jeon’s writ on the rights of a nobleman. What a crock of shit,” Jackson hummed as he browsed the shelves. He was sipping his liquor as Minho and Hyunjin spoke, browsing through the tomes on the shelves next to their group as he did. Even though he didn't seem too invested, Minho knew it would be unwise to think so.

The Wang were an old name and had ancestral rights to the Southern Border. Across that border, was an endless stretch of desert ruled by a King shunned and forgotten by all except the Wang’s. It was said the family's outlandish politics were an extension of that King's will, and the Wang's did not hide it. If anything, they flaunted it and were the only Great House to push for liberal reform– at least with any visibility.

“He needs you to be his right hand, but the other Lords would never accept you as you are now,” Hyunjin advised, ignoring his friend's outburst.

“What our ever so serious Hyunjin is suggesting is a mummers’ farce. Do your father's bidding where the world can see, while playing your hand behind the scenes,” Jackson said, still making the odd disproving noise as he browsed the books written by less inclined individuals. “It's not ideal, but it's become necessity.”

Minho did not like anything that was being said.

He had spent his whole life concentrating on the belief that rule and power could never end without corruption. It didn't matter how just and moral you were, the reigns of an entire people would callous and blacken your beliefs until your life revolved around cowing populations into submission with the threat of a sword. That was simply how human nature worked.

His beliefs had not come without cause.

The Red Rebellions had torn the realm asunder. It had been all in the name of ridding themselves of a tyrant King Kim. When the Bang's had won, the Kingdom entered a golden age. Arts and philosophy flourished and laws changed to usher in a new world for the people of the time, but history had proven to be cyclic. Even being his own family, Minho could not deny that the reign of the Bang family was heading in the direction of the Kim’s.

His only consolation had been Christopher. He was a just and upright man, but he had been raised to rule under the constant traditionally forged sword of their father. He had never seen the world outside of the Capital, and likely never would.

He would never see the villages in the dense Jungles of the West. The deeper you went into the verdant green, the more sparse populations got until civilization gave way to angry wildness that had retaken abandoned towns; their peoples forever lost to disease. Many still living remained under constant quarantine, never able to leave their homes for fear of spreading illness and death by the swords of those who held them there. They would not be helped. They would die and be forgotten like the others.

He would never know the desperation of the poachers in the Anpanman Woods. They were injured soldiers who had served the realm only to be discarded when they were no longer of use. They were green boys who were forced to support their families. They were the downtrodden no one cared for until they stepped on the toes of a Lord.

He would never see the sorrow of the wives of the Eastern Coast. Their husbands left them with babes still at the breast to mine gold in the crown controlled Free Isles. For the cost of the Crown's coffers, a lot of them would perish at sea or in the mines. They would never see their children grow.

Christopher would have to connect with his people. He would have to live amongst them to remember that it was not a Nation he ruled, but living humans with lives and stories of their own. Forgetting that was often the fall of a good King. He could not forget. Minho would not let him.

“Give me a script and dress me in motley, damnit.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz ff #stray kids ff #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #lee know ff #lee know smut #lee minho fanfic #lee minho smut #lee minho ff

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tojisbbg · 2 years ago

Text

𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙

❝and i am the idiot with the painted face, in the corner, taking up space.❞

♡ izana kurokawa ♡

pt. 1

a/n: i love putting mikey and izana stans through pain lolz.

content: royal! au, prince izana x princess y/n (reader), arranged marriage, shitty/toxic parenting, angst, cheating, izana’s a jerk, swearing/cursing, maybe smut (?), strangers to enemies to lovers, not checked for grammatical errors.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

nothing ever lasts forever.

you looked at the roses that were becoming shriveled up, slowly withering. the cold, unforgiving winter was soon to come. the grassy fields filled with flowers and little creatures of mother nature would be embraced by cold arms, blanketed with snow.

you bitterly grimaced at how this pathetic flower was used as a symbol of love. ironically, it fits.

love?

no such thing truly exists, and even if it does, it’s either fake or bound to die in the future.

you leaned down, picking up one of the sorrowful roses from the royal garden, looking at it with pity. while plucking off the petals, you accidentally pricked your finger from one of the thorns on the stem.

you were startled from the short-lived pain, looking at your index finger as you saw the small droplet of the crimson red liquid.

“you truly are evil.” you whispered, throwing the stupid flower on the ground just like any other worthless piece of trash.

“princess! what are you doing out here in such weather?! you’ll catch a cold!” one of the maids rushed in, concern and fear written all over her face.

“could i never get a second of peace and quiet? what is it that you need?” you harshly spat out, knowing that these stupid women didn’t care for your actual well-being.

they were ordered to for the sake of their pockets being filled.

of course, the world had to revolve around money and green of us filthy human beings.

“the king and queen has requested for you.” she spoke with a low voice, eyes not meeting your glaring ones.

“tell them to fuck off.” you bluntly replied, getting up to walk towards the orchid tree that was located way far back towards the end of the garden. suddenly, you felt the maid drop on her knees, holding one of your legs.

“what the fuck, get off of me!” you tried to wiggle her off, but she shook her head in refusal.

“please, princess! your father has already threatened all of us to have our heads chopped off because of not having you follow your daily routine. you must come or else our lives are at stake!” she sobbed, making you look down at them with a disgusted expression.

“you sick morons.” you grumbled under your breath, agreeing to head inside which made her thank you as if you were god himself granting her a blessing.

the maid escorted you to your parent’s room, afraid that you might not stay true to your words. regardless, you decided to have it her way to save her sanity. after reaching the door of your parent’s room, the maid knocked on the door before entering.

“the princess is here, your highness.” she informed before taking her leave which was your cue to enter. you closed the door behind you, seeing the both of them sitting on the edge of their bed, looking at you with a small smile.

“why did you call me?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase. you knew that your parents were filled with bullshit, all they cared about is being the most powerful kingdom to ever exist.

power, money, fame.

they wanted it all and it made you sick to your stomach. your morals and view on topics that were flaming hot to them largely differed. you just wanted to live a simple life, and it’s not that you’re an ungrateful brat.

you just have the world’s shittiest parents.

“is that how you were taught to speak to people, y/n?” you father snapped back at you, clearly displeased by your response.

“i don’t even speak to anyone in general, so who cares?” you commented with a shrug, making your mother sigh in disappointment.

“well, you will eventually one day in the future. you’ll inherit the throne, have a husband and lead your joined kingdoms until you pass it down to your kids.” she explained to you with a soft tone, nearly making you gag.

“me? marriage? as if.” you laughed, but your parents only looked at you with a serious expression. your voiced died down, now looking at them with nothing but shock and disbelief.

“why are you both quiet? tell me it’s a joke, what’s wrong with you?” you angrily scoweled, but they remained quiet.

“y/n, you’re no longer our little girl anymore. you’re a young woman now, who’s ready to fulfill her duties as the future queen and as someone’s wife.” your father tried to caress your cheek in a loving manner, but you swatted his hand away, on the brink of tears.

“how dare you! does my voice or opinion not have any worth to you guys? how can you decide such a big thing for me without even thinking about if i want it or not!” you raged, wanting to dig yourself a small grave right on the spot you were standing in.

“you don’t have a say, y/n! what don’t you understand?! you must get married, it’s an order by our law and nature. you’re a princess for god’s sake!” your mother scolded you, getting fed up from such childish behavior from you.

“then fuck being a princess, i’ll run away.” you threatened, your tears streaming down your face as your heart ached.

“you know that’ll never work, so stop being immature and try to accept things as how it is.” your father snickered, making you wanna rip your hair out.

“then i’ll end my life.” it was a rather rash thing to say, but it caught the attention of your parents, especially your father. he clutched onto his chest, breathing heavily, which alarmed your mother. she quickly rushed to his side, laying him down on the mattress while you watched with a blank expression.

“how dramatic. he should’ve signed up to become a theater entertainer than be a king.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“y/n! that’s enough.” your mother said through gritted teeth, fanning your father who coughed like a man that’s been smoking thirty cigars a day.

“if you both are done wasting my time, may i leave?” you yawned, getting bored of the same kind of shit that you had to go through nearly every day.

she didn’t bother looking up at you, ignoring your words as a way to indicate that she didn’t care.

“could’ve just said yes, y’know.” with that being said, you turned your heels and walked out, making sure to slam the door extra hard to piss them off even more.

you giggled after hearing the noise echoing through the empty halls, knowing for sure that your parents are probably talking shit about you right now. you hummed a small tune as you walked to your room.

“they’re crazy to think that i would actually agree to this shit.” you talked to yourself as you began to strip out of your gown, throwing it on your bed before walking inside your bathroom.

you shoved a finger inside the tub, checking if the temperature was right. you grinned in content, feeling the warmth of the water as you eagerly stepped in, lowering yourself slowly.

you couldn’t help but feel sorry for yourself. there are thousands of people out there who wished to be in your spot right now, living the life as a princess.

but, they only see your life from a small glass window, not being able to peak further deep inside.

they think that just because you bathe in luxury every day, your life is perfect. what they don’t see is how trapped you feel, how your parents are so controlling over your life, almost as if you were their very own puppet.

why?

you were hidden away from your whole life, envying the lives of commoners. you were homeschooled while everyone else went to public schools. you had no friends nor were you allowed to explore the village because it makes you appear improper. you have to wear bigass, itchy and uncomfortable gowns every day.

you hated it, absolutely hated it with every fiber in your body. if only all of your problems could be drowned like this, then maybe life wouldn’t have been so bad.

“i don’t care what it takes, i won’t be getting married.” you promised yourself, sinking deeper into the tub until you were completely submerged in the water.

...

“no, no! you can’t do this to me! i’m your fucking daughter, not a puppet. please, don’t do this. i’ll do anything, just don’t give me away.” you pleaded to your mother as you sat on your bed, dressed into the wedding dress that the maids successfully had shoved you inside.

“y/n, my baby, please just listen to me. your father and i love you so mu-”

“bullshit! absolute bullshit, stop lying to me! god, all you both ever do is lie! fuck, i hate you guys so much.” you wept, not caring that you had streaks of mascara running down your face.

“you need to understand that your father isn’t in the best condition to rule the kingdom. his heart problems are getting worse, and i won’t be able to take care of everything all by myself. joining our kingdom with the kurokawa’s would lessen the burden on us.” she tried to reason, taking a napkin to wipe away your ruined makeup as you looked up at her with glossy eyes, seeing not a single hint of care or adoration.

her eyes looked empty and you knew that these people would not hesitate to sell you off like some kind of livestock if they needed some money.

“you guys disgust me. all you care about is your benefits and never about me. you want me to get married? fine, i’ll get fucking married. since you guys along with that fucker that agreed to this shit basically ruined my life, i’ll make sure to return the favor.” you smirked, getting up as you grabbed the smashed bouquet of flowers.

“y/n-”

“don’t wanna hear it.” you cut her off, walking off to head downstairs where the chapel was. you saw your father waiting down by the stairs for you, looking at you with a horrified face.

“y/n? your makeup is-”

“does it look like i care? are you gonna walk me down the aisle or should i go by myself?” you impatiently said, making your father’s jaw drop from the sudden change of attitude. you avoided eye contact with him, not being able to bear the sight of how your father looked pleased with the change of heart you had, completely overlooking the fact of how your eyes screamed in despair.

“of course not, dear. come on.” he heartily chuckled, linking your arms together before leading you inside the chapel. your body burned with hatred, every step that you took felt like your legs were chained with weights.

“you could hate me all you want, y/n, but one day you’ll realize that everything that i have done for you is for the best.” your father said, his words completely flying over your head as you knew that it would be no use of saying anything to him.

it’s too late anyways.

the doors opened, a blinding ray of light hitting you as you could picture the chapel looking as beautiful as ever, knowing that your mother hired the best in town to decorate everything. however, you kept your eyes on the ground, being led up the few step as your father finally let go of your arm.

the priest began to read the wedding vows and midway there was a pause to allow the exchange of rings to occur.

your soon-to-be husband extended his hand, waiting for you to place yours on his palm. his skin was tan, long slender fingers with a few veins being painted on the surface of his hand as well. with a heavy heart, you lightly placed your hand on his, making sure to have minimal skin-to-skin contact with him.

“izana?” the priest called out, and for the first time, you’ve heard what your husband’s name was.

“yes?” he answered, his voice deep and smooth like honey.

“do you take y/n as your wife, promising to stay by her side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the familiar lines were recited, making your vision become a blur with tears.

those vows, these same sacred words to prove one’s faith and love to each other, it wasn’t meant for you or this izana guy. you had the right to wait for your knight and shining armor, your romeo and your prince charming.

“i do.” izana said firmly, his voice not shaking at all as he was ready to seal the deal.

“y/n?” the sudden intrusion of the voice startled you as you were deeply indulged in your train of thoughts.

“what?” you blurted out without any thought, hearing gasps around the room as you swore at yourself before muttering a quick apology to the priest.

“that’s quite alright, dear. do you take izana as your husband, promising to stay by his side through better or worse, sickness and in health, till death pulls you both apart?” the same lines almost seemed taunting you know, as if it was mocking your situation. you were thankful that the veil was covering your face, as your face was now covered with streaks of your dried tears.

it was never supposed to be this way.

you shouldn’t be up here getting married to some stranger whom you’ve never met before. as the crowd began to silently gossip among themselves, you felt like your knees would give up any minute from how anxious you felt.

you had two choices.

you still had the chance to run away, maybe even go abroad to another village far away from here and keep your identity hidden until you could get on a ship to go overseas.

you don’t take izana kurokawa as your loving husband whom you swear to spend the rest of your life with through sickness and in health.

you’re no princess, and you’re most certainly not qualified to be a queen who should rule such a vast kingdom. to all those stuck up people that are like loyal dogs under royal laws, you’re their puppet that’s being trained to become a loyal dog just like them.

but you weren’t one of them nor did you wish to become like them. you’re not a dog who’ll abide by the rules, trained to serve their husband and a piece of land.

no, absolutely not.

you were a caged bird who wished to be free. you read many books that were stored in the castle’s library. there are about 18,000 species of birds out there, roaming freely to their heart’s desire.

beautiful and colorful wings that allow them to explore different place in the earth. you wished to be like them, you too want to spread your wings and take a leap of faith in life. you want to go to the amazon forest, see the creation of mother nature.

and you knew well enough that in order to do that, you must take a risk. it was a 50/50, but at this point, who cares about the odds?

“i do.”

...

the wedding was over and you were now headed towards the kurokawa kingdom, which wasn’t too far off from your own. it was a two hour car ride, you thought you would be able to rest in the comforts of your own room for the night.

to your dismay, your parents had other plans.

they had the maids pack up your things and have it waiting for you already at your new “home”. to you it seemed like your parents were only counting how much time was left till you would finally depart from them.

assholes.

it was an awful wedding.

all the dishes that were served were shit that you were forced to eat as a child. it’s true that you were a picky eater but you weren’t always like this. the castle’s diet consisted of eating only clean foods to prevent health concerns like obesity or heart problems since they both ran in the family.

to which you weren’t against at first.

but you could vividly remember how when you went down to the village and stopped by a small udon shop to try their delicious meat udon special, your mother soon arrived and ripped you away from the shop before threatening to have you skip dinner.

she would give the same lecture about how men like women who have a nice figure, long lucious hair along with a shy and soft demeanor.

to which you would simply just walk off while she kept on going off, pretty much talking to herself since you didn’t even bother to listen to her bullshit.

the guests were snobby, from both sides of the family. while izana was busying himself on entertaining those fools with a charming smile and soft eyes, you gave everyone who tried to approach you a death stare.

izana kurokawa.

after you both exchanged your vows, it was time to show the god awful crowd the love and devotion you both have towards each other.

a kiss.

you were going to kiss izana kurokawa, who was now your husband. you were going to kiss a man whom you’ve never seen or heard of before until an hour ago.

gentle hands lifted your veil as you slowly looked up, eyes meeting for the first time. it felt like time had stopped, you couldn’t stop staring at him.

he was gorgeous.

the title of a prince was meant for izana kurokawa. he was responsible, kind and caring. snowy white hair that was parted, mesmerizing amethyst eyes with soft white lashes, honey glazed skin and a small smile on his lips.

izana bent down, his face hovering above yours as you could feel his warm breath fanning over your flesh. you closed your eyes, waiting his lips to meet yours.

however, no such thing ever happened.

his lips weren’t touching yours, barely brushing against them to say the least. yet, the guests roared with cheers and you soon came to realization. you opened your eyes, only to see those same lips curl into a smirk as he lazily eyed down at you.

izana kurokawa was not your husband because he too didn’t want to fulfill that role in your life.

you were not his wife nor would you ever be.

“we’re here, sir.” the drive came to a stop as the driver announced the arrival to the destination, pulling up to the castle doors. izana hummed in acknowledgment, as one of the guards opened the door for him. without a word, he left with the slam of the door, leaving you alone in the car.

“what a fucking jerk.” you grumbled to yourself, hearing the driver faintly chuckle as you shot him a glare from the backseat, knowing that he’d see it on the car’s rear mirror.

“the hell are you laughing at, huh?” you boldly spoke up, making him look back with a small smile.

“princess, do not be so naive. our prince is not like those whom you’ve read about in tales like cinderella or sleeping beauty. it’s not my place to talk ill about our soon to be king, but you’ll find out soon enough, so don’t be deceived.” he warned, making you harshly gulp.

the driver was nice enough to pull the door open for you, offering a rough hand to help your get out of the car since your dress seemed like it weighed over a thousand pounds.

the kurokawa kingdom was north from your own kingdom, but you never thought that it would make this much of a difference in weather. your wedding dress was sleeveless, making the cold breeze hit your skin as you shivered.

you noticed how the castle was built on a hill, the grass was barely alive, most likely due to the cold weather. it was a mountainous area after all.

“shall we?” one of the butler interrupted your thoughts, waiting with the door opened as you nodded.

you entered the castle doors, seeing how the interiors were nothing like your boring castle design. it was purple and gold, art works of famous artists hung up on the wall of angelic beings, and the halls smelled faintly of lavender.

“shall i take you to your room, prince-”

“that won’t be necessary, we have to talk about a few things. don’t worry, i’ll take it from here.” izana cut him off, walking down the grand stairs.

“of course, sir.” the butler bowed his head before leaving.

“we have nothing to talk about. it’s nearly midnight and i’m tired, i want to go to bed.” you groaned, trailing behind him as you were now in the living room.

“there’s some rules that you must follow now that you live with me.” he informed, sitting down as he crossed one leg over the other.

“how lovely, i came from one prison to another. life truly loves me, huh?” you bitterly chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him.

“how pitiful.” faux sympathy was painted all over his features, making your blood boil.

“hey bitchface, who do take me as? you think that just because we’re married now, you could do whatever you want with me as you wish? please, don’t make me laugh.” you giggled, getting up as you walked over to him. izana’s face remained unfazed with his previous smug look.

you bent down to come at eye level with his sitting stature.

“i never listened to my own parents rules, so, the fuck made you think that i’d listen to yours?” you taunted, cocking an eyebrow as he maintained eye contact with you.

“unlike your parents, i could have you out of this castle with the snap of a finger. i’m not as sympathetic nor do i give a single shit about you like your parents. you are their child whom they tolerated, but to me, you’re nothing but a nobody. so, mind your tone when speaking to me.” izana strictly said, giving you a sarcastic smile as he was able to see that he made his point across.

you sighed as you walked back to the sofa, plopping down while you waited for him to open his shitty mouth once again to tell you about his so-called rules.

“your room is located on the east wing of the castle and my room is in the west wing, so there shouldn’t be a reason why i should ever see yo-”

“first of all, how fucking self-centered are you to even think that i’d go to your room? you think i’m some kind of bimbo who’ll be all dolled up on your bed or clean up after your ass? i’d rather die than go to you.” you angrily spat out, in complete disbelief that this jackass had the audacity to even think of you like that.

“well that’s a relief, it’s good that you aren’t stupid. the problem is, your manners are so shit.” he scoffed, looking at you like you’re some kind of alien.

“weren’t you taught to never cut people off mid sentence? especially, to your husband.” izana mocked, tilting his head to the side as he knew he was slowly pushing all of your buttons.

“you want me to ruin the price worthy face of your so bad, huh?” you kissed your teeth in annoyance.

“anyways, you should almost never come to my room unless absolutely necessary. we have many maids and butlers, so feel free to ask them about any concerns. second, i really don’t give a shit.” he blurted out, making you choke on your spit.

“what?” you gasped.

“you don’t understand basic english? i said, i don’t give a shit. you’re free to do whatever you please with yourself, you could go wherever you want with whomever you want. your life doesn’t concern me nor should mine concern you. we didn’t marry each other out of love, nor do we consider each other as husband and wife. just don’t make things too obvious. deal?” he stuck out a hand, looking at you with anticipation.

“you got yourself a deal, prince jackass.” you stood up and began to make your way to your room.

all you wanted to do was just sleep everything away. you wanted to drift inside a good dream where there was no mom or dad, no izana, no royal duties and no sadness.

just you and only you.

...

you rolled around in bed, not wanting to open your eyes and have the bright sunlight hit your sight and blind you. but, soon enough, someone barged into your room and it nearly sent you into a coma.

you eyes went wide as you sat up, startled when you saw a few of the maids coming in. you grumbled under your breath, looking at them with a pissed facial expression.

“god, don’t you people know how to knock?” you scolded, making them apologize as you let out a sigh.

“it’s past lunchtime, your highness.” one of them informed you, making you look at them like they had three heads.

“what?!” you screamed, sitting up as your hair was a tangled mess. you were still in your wedding dress, too tired the night before to even have the energy to take it off.

“your bath is ready and breakfast has been served as well. lord kurokawa has gone out for royal duties if you were wondering.” the butler from yesterday butted in, making you scoff.

lord kurokawa? what an arrogant asshole.

“yeah to hell with him, i don’t care where he is.” you yawned, getting up as you shooed everyone out of your room. you hated noise, especially during mornings.

mornings were meant to be peaceful and silent, relaxing and slow. they were only meant for you and only you. you stripped out of the poofy gown before detangling your hair and removing the remaining makeup smudged on your face.

when you stepped inside the bathroom, a gasp of nothing but pure amazement and shock left your lips. it was a gorgeous bathroom, everything covered in marbel and polished. the bathtub looked like a swimming pool, making you quickly rush over to fill it up with hot water.

as you sunk your naked body in the water, a blissful sigh left your lips as your eyes rolled back.

this really hits the spot.

you leaned back, closing your eyes as you began to fall into deep thought. you wondered, how would you spend the rest of your days in this castle? a part of you wished that izana was a little more friendlier, then perhaps you could’ve had a platonic relationship of enjoying life.

well, that wasn’t that case, and maybe you liked it that way.

you finished your royal bath and the rest of the consisted of you lounging in the castle. you had to admit that izana’s criteria and choice of the cooks had to be one of the finest, as both breakfast and lunch almost made you ascend to heaven.

living away from your parents did rise some perks, and to make things even better, izana wasn’t around majority of the times. you were free to dress however you wished, no need for fancy dresses that squished your ribcages and made it hard to breathe.

for once in your life, you were sitting in the living room with a huge bucket of ice cream in your lap while wearing a pair of shorts and tank-top.

and no one could tell you shit about it.

you heard the front door open, indicating that someone has arrived home. one of the maid’s rushed to your side as you shoved a huge mouthful of the sweet dairy treat in your mouth.

“your highness, lord kurokawa has arrived.” she notified, making you lazily hum at her as you were more concerned about the plot of the drama you’re watching.

“cool.” you shrugged before shooing her away, not caring that your fake husband came back from his royal duties.

“is dinner ready?” the deep familiar voice questioned the butler who was removing his very expensive winter coat.

“yes, sir. allow me to help you freshen up.” the butler offered, making izana hum in agreement.

“god, do you wipe his ass after he takes a shit too?” you snickered, making the butler gasp as he looked at you with wide eyes. however, izana remained unfazed before turning to you with a small smirk.

“oh, that’s not his job but my wife’s. however, it seems like she’s too busy being a pig.” he fired back, making you shoot him a hateful glare.

“annoying piece of shit.” you mumbled under your breath before averting your focus back onto the huge tv screen. izana left to freshen up before sitting in the dining space, eating by himself.

you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, knowing that he lived inside this castle by himself all his life and did pretty much everything alone. you didn’t know much about the kurokawa family, but you knew that izana was the last person in the bloodline to exist because his family was brutally murdered years ago in a war that nearly killed your father.

your thoughts would soon be gone as you saw the man right in front of you, arms crossed over his chest.

“go to bed, every electrical device that makes noise in this castle must be turned off. i have very sharp ears, so even the slightest sound will awaken me.” izana ordered, making you scoff.

“well, i’m so sorry sleeping beauty, but that seems like a you problem. shove some cotton balls in your ears and go to sleep.” you replied, seeing his jaw lock in annoyance, making you internally high-five yourself.

“you’re infuriating.” he grumbled, turning his heels before heading upstairs to his room. you laughed to yourself in satisfaction, throwing a few more popcorns in your mouth as you continued to watch your show.

---

you groaned in pain, rolling over until you fell to the ground with a yelp. you winced in pain as you rubbed your ass.

“fucking hell.” you cursed, not realizing when you fell asleep on the sofa. you heard a chuckle coming from behind you, opening your sleepy eyes to see the white haired fool sipping his tea while laughing.

“i knew that was gonna happen, you stupid little girl.” izana shook his head in disbelief, continuing to fill out some paperwork. you stood up and marched your way towards him, glaring down at him.

“you absolute jackass. this is why no woman would ever fall in love with you, stupid piece of shit.” you threw insult after insult at him, yet he seemed unfazed by your comments.

“what a rough way to start your morning. you should go brush your teeth to get that bad breath and language out of your mouth.” he smirked, making you gasp in embarrassment as you covered your mouth, forgetting that morning breath exists.

“i hope you choke on your tea and die.” you said in a muffled voice, rushing up to your room to freshen up so that you could give him a proper piece of your mind. but, to your dismay, by the time you came downstairs he was already gone.

“coward.” you mumbled to yourself, settling down at your seat as the maids served you breakfast. you decided that you’ll have an outing to yourself today at the village, wanting to experience an adventure you never got the chance to fulfill.

“excuse me, would you please drop me off by the village today after breakfast?” you asked izana’s butler, to which he gave you a polite smile.

“it would be my pleasure.” he replied, making you contented with the answer as you finished your meal.

you decided to dress in common clothing, a simple white dress that fell below your knees; decorated with strawberries.

“you look lovely, my lady.” the butler complimented, and you thanked him, excited to try new things out.

after reaching the village, you bid the butler goodbye as he promised to pick you up before sunset.

your first stop was the flower shop, eyes glimmering at the colorful plants. there was roses, dhalias, petunias, marigolds and so much more!

“hello miss, how may i help you today?” the lady spoke, startling you a little.

“your flowers are gorgeous! may i take a smell?” you asked, the lady giving you a warm smile before nodding.

you went ahead and took a sniff of every one of them, sighing in bliss at the sweet scent of each of them. nature’s creation was truly heavenly and it made you wish if you could just run away to the woods and live in a cottage; away from the evil that resided in society.

your eyes fell on the lilacs, sitting ever so prettily in the bouquet. you couldn’t help but think of how the color struck you and made you think of your evil husband.

“would you like to buy any of them?” the lady asked and you nodded you head.

“i’ll take those lilacs, please.” you said with a small smile, convincing yourself that it was because these pretty purple flowers would look great in the vase on top of the dining table.

your next stop was to try all the food stalls, looking at your pocket watch and noticing how it was nearly lunch time. you decided to indulge yourself, ordering a bowl of seafood udon for yourself and a side of braised duck meat.

your parents would’ve killed you if they saw you eating like this.

but right now, food is life.

you ate to your heart’s happiness, closing your eyes as you could feel tears of joy forming at the corner of your eyes. you’ve never tasted food this delicious before and it made you appreciate yourself for keeping your will to live still strong.

you slurped the noodles like no tomorrow, gulping down the broth right after. you lipstick was gone, the corners of your mouth messy with the broth as you sniffled from the heat of the food. you quickly cleaned yourself up, not wanting to look like a pig in front of other although you did eat like one just now.

you properly disposed the items and continued your little journey.

suddenly, a weeping little toddler clung onto your legs. you bent down, trying to level your eyes with her glossy ones.

“mama?” she cried, making your heart shatter.

“did you lose her, honey?” you spoke with a soft voice, seeing the little girl nod her head. you embraced the tiny human, carrying her as you tried to calm her down.

“let’s go find your mama then.” you smiled, patting her back as you began to walk around with the little girl in your arms.

“ice cream!” you heard her squeal, amking you hum as your eyes followed the direction she pointed in.

“oh, you want one?” you asked, to which she eagerly nodded, making you chuckle as you walked towards the small shop. you got the little girl a strawberry cone while you got mango.

“so yummy.” she giggled, making your heart swell from her cuteness. you were walking towards the small flower garden, wanting to take a little break and finish your ice cream.

until you noticed a familiar figure sitting on the bench with another person. you got a closer look and indeed it was izana.

with another woman.

you saw him holding her hand while laughing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she giggled. they both were sharing a slice of cake and you saw the way his eyes sparkled every time she breathed.

was he always this sweet? how he tenderly caressed her skin like she was porcelain.

a foreign emotion of jealousy brewed inside you, a sudden wave of rage filled your insides. it was then that izana’s eyes fell on you, his smile dropping as he saw you with the child in your arms.

“y/n?” he called out your name, and it sent chills down your spine as it felt so new to hear him call you without any insult.

“izana.” you said his name back, making him swallow harshly.

“do you both know each other?” the woman next to him asked, she looked and smelled like a princess, when you looked like a commoner. izana’s eyes begged you to make up some lie, to which you gave him a sly grin.

“why of course we do, right izana?” you taunted, making the silver haired male grow nervous.

“honey, i can explain.” izana turned to the woman, but she looked suspicious.

“there’s nothing to explain. we’re cousins, that’s all. stop making everything so weird all the time.” you giggled, making your very much husband sigh in relief, not wanting his mistress to find about his little secret marriage.

“ohh, nice to meet you. is that your daughter?” his mistress asked, and you contemplated on being truthful, but you wanted to spite izana more.

“yup, this is my little princess. isn’t she the cutest?” you kissed the little girl’s head, making the woman squeal. izana’s eyes widened, not expecting you to lie like this.

“she sure is! wow, you’re so young to be a mom though.” she commented, making fake sad eyes.

“yeah, well, my husband loves me enough to give me such a precious gift. anyways, i should head back now. it was, uh, great meeting you.” you gave her a fake smile before throwing a side glare at izana. the expression on his face is one you couldn’t decipher, but you decided to not pick on it.

you walked a good distance away from the horrid couple, until you felt the little girl squirm in your hold.

“mama! mama!” she urged and you placed her on the ground, watching her run to the figure in the distance.

“oh, my baby!” you heard the lady cry, picking up her daughter a kissing her lovingly.

“thank you so much for keeping her safe, miss.” she noticed your presence, giving you a grateful smile.

“no worries.” you nodded your head, ruffling the little girl’s hair before bidding them goodbye.

---

you reached home, your mood not as uplifting as you had planned. you kicked your sandals off, walking towards the dining table as you placed the lilacs down. one of the maids rushed in, excited to see the bright and beautiful purple flower.

“are these for lord kurokawa?” she asked, making you scoff. the thought of izana made your blood boil, especially after the shitshow that took place earlier.

“no, you may dispose those in the garbage. i don’t want to see a single petal on my sight.” you strictly ordered, grabbing your purse to make your way up to your room. there you bumped into izana, who seemed like he’s been standing there the entire time.

“move, fuckface.” you grumbled, shoving him to the side as you stormed upstairs. you felt him grab your wrist, turning your head to meet his lilac ones.

“the hell is wrong with you? why are you acting like i’m diseased?” his eyebrows furrowed, making you roll your eyes.

“say what you have to say because i want to rest.” you ignored his question, making him let out an irritated sigh.

“since you already know about mai, i don’t think i need to explain myself further-”

“oh, don’t worry. i think i have enough brain cells to piece together that the almighty lord kurokawa has a side bitch.” you snickered, making him glare at you.

“watch your mouth.” he scoweled, making you grin.

“make me.” you challenged, watching him ball his fists as your words made his skin crawl.

“you know what, i don’t even know why i thought i could have a simple conversation with you without wanting to murder you. your parents invited us for dinner this weekend, so act accordingly.” izana informed you before leaving, heading back downstairs.

“got it! i’ll make sure that they don’t find out about your secret fuck buddy lover that you’re two-timing with, lord kurokawa.” you said in a mocking voice, knowing how much he probably wanted to kill himself right now because you wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

you didn’t know why the situation with izana and his mistress got you so riled up.

you knew that he’s not in love with you nor are you in love with him.

yet, the idea of him with another woman made you furious.

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starillusion13 · 9 months ago

Text

MINE TO KILL (Teaser)

Pairing: Royal! Yunho x f! reader (ft. Wooyoung)

Genre: Royal, Mature, Enemies to (?), Smut, Angst

W.C: ??? [1.5k (this is only for teaser)]

Warnings: mention of - to kill someone and threats (all the rest warnings will be in the main plot.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I love Yunho when he is angry and guys finally I have identified my bias in Ateez I think it’s Yunho😃 dw it will change in my next fic lol

"And you thought I won't notice?"

You flinched to the sudden dark voice from the stairs. The ceiling lights and the lamps had a warm radiant but those lights were still piercing on your skin. As if the hatred inside you was adding to the heat of the lights.

Your piercing eyes reflected the shining light of the light chain decorated on the railings. You gripped the glass tighter in your hand, feeling the anger rising in you to watch him descending the stairs.

He should slip a step and fall from the stairs in front of you. You scoffed mentally.

The boots hit to the marbled stairs slowly, the walk was slow, too slow to let you hear each sound of his boot precisely and clearly.

Your glares directed towards him made his corner of the lip to tug upwards slightly. He watched you intently and noticed your slight fear which you were trying to hide it but still couldn't.

At this point, the grip on the glass could have broke it easily but somehow it didn't break.

Maybe like the hatred inside you was enough to burn him but the slight fear was more powerful to hold it back.

"Why are you here?" You hissed.

He eyed the glass in your grip and walked forward to stand a bit too close to your liking. you were glued to the ground where you were standing. you wanted to run away but still something inside you was forcing you to face it, face him like the royal you are. are you strong enough? maybe not. he is more powerful than you. both in morals and money.

"If I say...for you?" he said and leaned forward to inhale the perfume. he hummed near your ear, "same sweet smell. It always remind me of the night. don't you miss that night of us?"

"Never. why can't you just forget about it?"

he chuckled and stood straight, "oh it's too perfect and interesting to remember. how can I just let that sweet moment slip through my mind. I am carving it on a campus to make it remember even if I have amnesia one day."

you gritted your teeth and raised the glass to throw the wine at him but he was quick to get a hold of your hand and took away the glass from you. you glared at him but he just smirked at you and brought the glass to his lips, maintaining an eye contact with you. you could hear some people passing by the passage through, outside the main door of the hall in the backyard of the palace. you glanced to the direction of the door and hoped someone to enter so that you could escape his grip because your strength was nothing to his.

the voices became distant and the hope inside you died down with the rising of the bubble of the little fear.

"I hope you soon have the amnesia and so that I can kill you by myself." you wiggled your hand under his grip.

he ignored you and asked, "did you drink this yet? did your lips touched the glass?" He swirled the wine in the glass.

"why? will you drink from it now?"

he poked his inner cheek and smirked widely, "oh! I am craving for the lips from that night and if you don't give me the honor to devour them again then I have to do it in this way."

"Yunho, mind your words." you threatened him only to get a loud laugh from him. he threw his head back and amusedly watched his grip on your wrist. the image from that night flashed in front of his eyes. the same way you were whimpering under this hold and begging to him. He could feel something inside him stinging, might be the hatred for you.

"But you loved every words from me when I was choking you." He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Please stop it."

"And if I don't?" He loosened his grip on your wrist and as soon as you stepped backward, he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. "Does Wooyoung know about this?"

"About what?" You hissed at him because the grip was leaving red marks on your arm and the rings in his fingers were pressing on your skin.

The touch was filled with hatred or love?

It's visible that it's all about the hate for you.

"About us? The love we shared that night. The way I made you feel good." He leaned to your level to whisper into your ears, his breath hitting your nape and you shivered, "the way I marked you mine. When in the first place you were always his."

"There is nothing called us. That night was a mistake. Don't talk about it again. I don't want Wooyoung to know about it. And I am never yours."

He sipped the wine from your glass and closed his eyes, humming in the taste of the liquid. You watched him in disgust. Gulping down the glass, he noticed your glare.

He paused to stare at the door and when the voice of the person on the other side became distant and he noticed that you were distracted.

He threw the glass across the room and glared at you. You flinched to his sudden action and his grip tightened.

"y/n...y/n...y/n..."

He sang your name and his voice and the name coming out from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine. He noticed your little gulp and harshly turned you around and flushed your back against his chest.

"Y/n and Yunho...isn't our name fit nicely together?" He darkly chuckled in your ears. His one hand grabbing your arm tightly and the other placed on your throat. The hand was caressing the skin around when he suddenly squeezed it.

Your choking sound made him smile widely and in satisfaction he whispered, "it will be so fun to kill you, y/n."

You scoffed, "is that a threat?" and gritted your teeth.

He chuckled amusedly, "why? Does that sound like a compliment?"

He loosened his grip around your throat, you coughed out and took deep breaths but he held you against his body.

"Leave me, Yunho."

"I will only leave you when I will kill you."

He gripped your jaw and made you face him. His glares were strong, his muscles tight against the jaw and neck and the gritted teeth hissing at you.

"Then kill me."

"Y/n. Y/n, where are you?" Wooyoung's voice echoed around the place and you both could hear it. You broke the stare with him and looked towards the door when the door was pushed open.

Yunho changed your position quickly and placed his hand on your cheek and other still holding your arm. Smiling at you and you stared at him in confused silence.

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Wooyoung entered the hall and found you with Yunho, he smiled at your form who was held by his brother. You both were facing side to him. Yet to notice his approaching steps towards you.

“There you are my love. What are you doing here, y/n? That even with Yunho?” He was smiling all the way and when he reached near you, you pushed Yunho’s hand and hugged Wooyoung, burying your face into his chest.

Wooyoung smiled and patted your head in his embrace and with confusion, he looked at his brother.

“What happened to her?”

Yunho chuckled, “she lost her balance in this dress and her glass fell from her grasp so I was just helping her out.”

Wooyoung nodded and felt your hug tightened around him. You clutched his coat tighter and closed your eyes in anger.

These brothers were always different from each other. Even this day, Wooyoung was in red attire representing his love and passion for you. Whereas Yunho in black attire radiating luxury and power in elegance shooting towards you.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

You nodded to his question and he urged you to stand straight. He told his brother that he would like to leave the place with you to spend some time and his brother nodded. He guided you towards the door and you followed him with your hand entangled with his and looking down. You could feel a stare burning hole on your back but you didn’t look back.

Yunho’s eyes followed till you both exited the door and took a turn. As soon as you were out of his sight, he grabbed his hairs and harshly brushed it back in annoyance.

“I will kill you, y/n.”

He clenched his jaw and glared at the way from where you left with his brother.

“Always remember that you are mine.”

He exhaled heavily and clenched his fist where his knuckled turned white and the palm was almost flushed red with slight edges of the nails digging into his skin.

“Mine to kill.”

T.B.C.

[READ HERE]

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zeldaelmo · 1 year ago

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For @zelinkcommunity ‘s zelink week 2023 - forbidden

Summary: Link joins Zelda’s class so that her students can learn first hand about the knights of Hyrule. Turns out they aren’t as prepared for the children’s questions as they thought...

Set between BotW and Totk.

No warnings apply, rating: General. Words: 3031. Big thanks @mistresslrigtar for editing this for me! Check out her zelink week pieces!

Rumors have wings

"Oh, but just look at him! He even has a red feather thing on his helmet!" Aster, one of the four children shifting on tiny benches in front of Hateno’s school, whispered behind her hand.

"That's a plume, Miss Zelda explained it last week, you doof—", another child, Karin, started to answer, but was interrupted by their teacher.

"Children! Please calm down," Zelda exclaimed, raising her hands to get her students' attention. The small smile the children managed to elicit from her whenever she saw them adorned her face. While the morning sun warmed her back, she observed them fondly and waited until they were ready to start the lesson. "As you've already noticed, we have a special guest today. Link is kind to attend our lesson so that you can learn firsthand about the knights of the kingdom that ruled over Hyrule 100 years ago."

"A new mission for our spy team, I'm sure, Sefaro!" Azu whispered to his bench neighbor. "My A-zoom senses are tingling!"

"Miss Zelda?" Aster raised her hand so high in the air that her behind nearly left the stool.

"Yes?"

"Is Link the reason that the lesson is outside today? You said weapons aren't allowed in school, and he has this"—she gestured toward the spear in Link's hand—"thing."

"You can't call everything 'thing'," Karin hissed out the corner of her mouth. "Miss Zelda will surely tell us the correct name if we wait."

Link cleared his throat and moved his weapon from his back to rest the tip on the ground in a motion done so often that it had become subconscious.

"This is a Royal Halberd,” he explained. “Only the most trusted knights who guarded Hyrule Castle's throne room were equipped with it. Its ornate design was applied by a craftsman in service to the royal family."

A lot of 'ohs' and 'ahs' came from the children's mouths, and Zelda giggled into her hand. She could not deny that Link was a sight to behold in his full armor, and these kids had never seen a knight before. It was a shame that Link wouldn’t wear it more often. He only bothered with the full armor when he accompanied Hoz’s Monster-Control-Crew and they had their eyes set on a particularly nasty bunch of enemies. He claimed it was for their morale and not for his protection, but she knew he had become gradually more responsible about his well-being with every year that had passed after he defeated Ganon.

"How do you know that about the knights?" Sefaro asked, his eyebrows drawn together in a skeptical frown. He was a spy; he wouldn't easily fall for this story. "I've seen weapons like this hanging from a Hinox's neck. So how would you know they were given to the knights who guarded the throne room?"

Link made eye contact with Zelda and winked. As always, it made her stomach flutter. Then, he turned back to the kids and leaned conspiratorially closer, all of his armor clanging together. "I was one of them. And Zelda's father, King Rhoam, gave it to me."

"No way!" Aster cried. "You're the weird guy who lives with Miss Zelda in the house behind the bridge! No way you're a knight! You can't even remember the Bolson dance! I bet you just bought the armor in the Ventest Clothing Boutique!"

At these terrible (but not untrue) accusations, all four children jumped from their places and started to inspect Link up close. They tugged at the gauntlets and pricked at the chainmail, all while Link hid his face in the little stand-up collar so that only his eyes twinkled under the helmet, and nobody but Zelda saw him chuckle.

After they had assured themselves that at least the armor was authentic, they strolled back to their seats.

“Alright, kids. Now let’s review what you already know about knights. Who wants to start?” Zelda asked and looked expectantly from one to the other until Azu raised his hand.

"They were responsible for guarding the royal family and the kingdom. I heard there was a horrible test to pass if you wanted to become one. Something about a monster fight that only half of the candidates survived." He paused. "That's why I'm a spy and not a knight."

"It was a Stalnox," Link explained quietly. "And the older knights jumped in to beat it back if it was obvious a candidate wasn't ready. But, of course, it was still dangerous. One of my fellow knights got his nose broken and lost his sense of smell."

Azu snapped his mouth shut, and Sefaro shifted uncomfortably on his bench. The story was a little too detailed to be fake. Right? Aster, now also hooked, raised her hand, and at Zelda's nod, she asked, "So just everyone who could beat that monster could become a knight?”

“Goddess, no!” Zelda laughed. “Only the best soldiers could become a knight. Not only combat skills were important, but character, too. Only those of a pure heart and extraordinary courage were offered the opportunity to reach knighthood."

Karin scrutinized Link. "You don't look very courageous."

Link choked on a laugh when Zelda said, "You'd be surprised," and he added, "Some prefer the term reckless instead of courage."

Zelda giggled and shot him a playful, warning look.

Karin's eyes went from one to the other. She crossed her arms and said, "Well, I heard that knights and princesses weren't allowed to court. So since you are courting Miss Zelda, this is clearly a fabrication to pull our legs. You can’t be a knight."

"What—what if—" Azu shot forward so quickly that he nearly fell from his bench. "What if it's a secret relationship? Se-sefaro! We've got a new case!"

"Some spy you are," Sefaro murmured, rolling his eyes in mock disinterest. "The rumor that Miss Zelda is courting him has been around forever. There's no secret about this. At all."

Link pointedly stared at the tree behind the children in the courtyard. If he took one glance at the grinning Zelda, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from breaking into a fit of laughter that would last several moments. After being the center of the rumor mill a hundred years prior, the gossipers here in Hateno were so refreshingly harmless that they never felt the need to clarify any shift in their relationship with anyone. Zelda preferred it that way and insisted her private life was hers and didn't concern anyone. Link couldn’t care less about what they said about them, but the whole topic had become a bit of a tender subject ever since Impa had the guts to ask Zelda about an heir to make sure the bloodline of the Goddess wouldn’t run dry.

Zelda clapped her hands. "Back to the topic, please! Any more questions for Link or me?"

Karin raised her hand again. "So, is it true that a knight wasn't allowed to be with a princess or prince?"

Zelda sighed. "This really interests you, hm? Alright. It's a bit more complicated than that. Link was not only a guard who watched over the castle, but he also became my appointed knight. That means he accompanied me everywhere and—"

"Sometimes she ran away from me, so not everywhere, but pretty much everywhere," Link whispered, the back of his hand directed toward Zelda as if only the children were supposed to hear him.

"Hey!" Zelda cried, boxing his armor (regretting it instantly), and laughing.

"It's true." Link winked at the kids.

"Well, who constantly stared at me judgingly without uttering a word?"

"That was my job!"

"I think they're married," Azu whispered toward Sefaro, who gravely nodded. Maybe he had been wrong, and there was, indeed a spy mission in disguise at hand here.

"And?" Karin pressed on.

"Uh, and? Ah, right, the rules. Yes, my father was very strict about us not being allowed to court. Link had to write reports and all that. I think they feared I would distract him from keeping me safe somehow."

"As if I would let anything happen to you," Link murmured, but nobody had heard him this time.

"Forbidden relationship, write that down," Azu hissed from the corner of his mouth. Sefaro chewed on his pencil, thinking, before he nodded firmly and jotted a few words down—definitely a new mission.

“I don’t know.” Karin crossed her arms. “Both can’t be true because if you were a knight, you wouldn’t be courting Miss Zelda.”

Slowly but surely Link was becoming overwhelmed by the situation, and tipped his head toward Zelda. She would know what to do; she always did. He didn’t mind the children knowing about their relationship status and hadn’t the point of coming here in full armor been so they learned about knighthood? That effort would be in vain if they didn't believe that his knowledge was firsthand. But then again, if the children knew… not soon after, the whole village would know, and then the whole Kingdom and the pressure was back on their shoulders.

Zelda paused and tapped her index finger on her chin — a gesture she had picked up from Purah during the countless hours they spent in the lab. The children regarded him with various stages of skepticism; Karin pouted with her arms still crossed, Azu frowned and licked his lips, and Aster outright made a dismissive hand gesture and rolled her eyes. Only Sefaro still scribbled in his notebook, but bullet points like ‘patrol’ and ‘scouting spot’ didn’t hint at his eagerness to follow the lesson's topic.

"Okay…" Zelda started. "We need to go a little farther back than I anticipated, but it's alright."

She put a hand on Link's pauldron. "You're correct and, at the same time, not. Link made several oaths and promised to follow the rules my father, King Rhoam, set. But you all know that the kingdom no longer exists, so the rules hold no value anymore."

A click of fingers, urgent.

"Yes, Azu?"

"Is that like the thing when you don't have to do what your parents say when you're all grown up?"

"I—" Zelda swallowed, and Link shot her a concerned gaze. These children didn't know that talking to their parents and not to a cold stone was a luxury. "Yes, a little bit."

"Oh."

Zelda glanced back at Link, sighing in resignation. Kids immediately knew if they weren't taken seriously, so there was no way around it.

"So… yes, Link and I are a couple. But…" She stepped closer and crouched at the benches, waving them to join her. The children gathered around her, eyes wide, knowing instinctively that they were about to hear something important.

"You know that I'm not only a teacher, but the princess of Hyrule, too, right?"

The children nodded eagerly, and Aster opened her mouth but got silenced by Karin's elbow in her side.

"As a princess, I have a lot of responsibilities, and a lot is expected of me... if everyone knew that Link and I are together, people would expect even more of us. And Link has given so much already for Hyrule…” She chuckled. “I want to give him the opportunity of being the weird guy I share the house with a little longer.”

“Heh!” Link laughed, crossed his arms over the handle of his halberd in mock offense, and tipped his chin up.

The children chuckled but turned back to Zelda the moment she spoke again. “Don’t worry about him; he’ll come around again,” she said. “What I wanted to ask you is… You’re a team of spies, right?”

“Not all of us,” muttered Sefaro, and Zelda winked at him. “Well, now you all are. My team of royal spies, how does that sound?”

“R-royal spies!?!” Azu nearly fell from his bench again. “Sefaro, this is the coolest day ever! We’re so having a new mission!”

"All of us?" Sefaro mumbled with a side glance at the girls.

"Yes, all of you. And the rest of the village kids, too," Zelda added, knowing very well how the kids who were too small for the lessons lurked around the school and pretended to be spies, too.

"We will be the best spies around, Miss Zelda, I promise!" Karin said with sparkling eyes before she leaned over to Aster, whispering, "What exactly is the job of a spy?"

"Why, spying, of course!" Aster answered. What a stupid question!

Zelda, satisfied with the children's reaction, took another look around. “Ok, so your most important task is…” she beckoned them even closer and whispered, “...that nobody finds out that Link and I are married, alright? This order is in effect as long as I don’t give another, contrary order, understood by everyone?”

“Yes, Miss Zelda, understood,” Sefaro hissed. “Your team of royal spies is at your service! As the head of the spy team, I assure you we will do everything in our power to ensure the success of this mission.”

“Who said you are the boss, stupid Sefaro?” Aster was not happy about this development and tried to kick Sefaro’s shin.

Link stared at the tree behind them so intently that he feared the leaves would turn red and fall to the ground. Countless years he had trained to school his face into a stoic mask, and had endured several situations that had put him to the test, but these kids were giving him trouble not to burst out laughing.

"Ok, I'll take that as your word that I can count on you all." Zelda smiled at their eager nods. Perfect. She had struck a chord in them. Maybe they could keep up the fog surrounding their relationship like the lost woods a little longer. They both weren't against the idea of their own children, far from it, but they had lost so many years to prepare for the return of Calamity Ganon that they both wanted to live a little first. There was so much to see in the world; just the other week, they had discovered a whole new species in Faron! They would continue to help rebuild where they could, and one day, they would make their relationship official. And yes, then they would talk about children, potential consequences for the monarchy, and whatnot but not a moment sooner.

Well, that was if the village children managed to keep their little secret…

“Link actually has another set of armor we want to show you,” Zelda said. “It’s the set of a royal guard. I’ll help him change, and you can take a break here in the school yard so that you’re well-rested when we’re back.”

The children cheered and ran off — who didn’t love an unscheduled break?

Inside, Zelda fumbled with the strap of the helmet under Link’s chin while he chased her cheek to give her a kiss. “Hey!” She laughed. “Stop messing with me, or I’ll never get you out of this thing. You’re lucky I don’t mind doing a squire’s job!”

“Oh, messing with you, is it now? I remember when we got married, you were much more—” Link stopped, frowning at the voices that came through the window.

“...tell everyone who says they’re courting that they’re plutonic friends!”

“You mean platinous.”

“Yeah, pla-pla— what you said! Just friends.” They could practically hear the quotation marks that Aster made with her fingers. The children must have gathered directly under the window sill. One of the kids started to toss a ball against the wall, the tap-tap-tap allowing Zelda an undiscovered giggle about their little confusion.

“But that’s boring. Nobody is going to believe that,” Sefaro’s voice now rang through the open window. “We’re going to tell everyone she kicked him out of his house, and they’re loose acquaintances at best.”

“What?” Karin’s voice was high-pitched — she must have even gotten on her tiptoes to be more intimidating. “Miss Zelda would never! She’s the nicest person in Hyrule! She saved his life 100 years ago; she would never kick him out of his house!”

“But that’s the point,” Azu argued. “We want to distract from the rumor of them being together. But maybe you’re right, and it’s too crazy. What about he's just her swordsman running around Hyrule and doing errands for her? You know, because she's his superior or whatever it was called 100 years ago.”

On the other side of the window, Zelda helped Link pull the royal guard uniform over his head so he didn't need to bother with the buttons. "Hmm… taking advantage of your duty to me," she whispered into his ear when his face was free again and chuckled. "That's a new one."

Link snorted and pulled her closer, softly biting her earlobe. Raising his mouth a few inches higher, he whispered, "You dramatically overestimate the motivational factor of duty, my love. I wouldn't have made it off the Great Plateau without your sweet voice beckoning me like a siren."

Zelda blushed at the implications of that, but any risque answer was cut off by the ruckus the kids made outside. She quickly placed the spiffy cap on his head and winked at him.

The children surpassed each other with propositions now.

"There has been an evil Oracle!"

"An attack of cuckoos!"

“She got captured by the bad Sheikah, the… Yoga!”

“Stop! How should that help to distract? You’re all so mean, I don’t know if I want to play spy anymore,” Karin pouted.

“Hm, ok, nothing evil anymore. What about if someone spots Link walking around the house in his undies again, we'll tell everyone that’s a new order of Princess Zelda to… to… keep the spirits up!”

Everyone giggled at that idea, and their laughter coaxed Link to grin.

“Oh, hush!” Zelda cried quietly, not without suppressing a smile herself, and adjusted the red cord of his armor. “This was a bad idea. They’re going to spread so much nonsense about us!”

“Oh, no, this was one of the best ideas you ever had,” Link whispered back and kissed her, well hidden from the eyes of the village, from Impa, and the rest of Hyrule, thanks to the newly-established royal spy team taking their duty very seriously.

Edit: Link to Ao3

#zelink #zelink week 2023 #totk spoilers #botw #totk #legend of zelda #zeldaelmo writes #rumors have wings #Now with banner!

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voraciousvore · 4 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 36)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (35) | Next (37)

Content Warning: fatal hard vore with blood, soft unwilling vore, multiple prey

Word Count: 2.9k

------ Chapter 36: Royal Visit ------

The day had come for the foreign dignitaries to visit. The royals of Giganterra were all dressed in new, custom-made clothes of the latest fashion. Ronny stood stiffly alongside his father, scratching at the lacy collar of his fancy outfit. He felt like a mannequin, with how many layers he was stuffed into and how constricted his limbs were. His suit was a royal blue with a line of brass buttons up the middle, epaulettes on the shoulders, and elaborate designs embroidered into the chest and arms with golden threads. He could hardly bend his elbows or knees. He was tense and irritable, wearing his characteristic frosty scowl to complete his wardrobe. His only comfort was Tanya, his secret little ally and companion, dangling from his necklace. He kept her with him for moral support, tucked into the hem of his outer jacket, for which he was eternally grateful. He liked having her tiny body so close to his beating heart.

Princess Bianca, on the other hand, was vibrant with excitement. Her dress was a flowing green garment of resplendent silk that made her hazel eyes pop. It was decorated with sparkling emeralds stitched into the fabric, with tasteful ruffles on the sleeves, collar, and skirt. She swished her dress around her ankles, giggling to herself with amorous daydreams. She felt foxy and attractive, and she couldn’t wait to show off her beauty to her fiancé, in all his handsome, sexy glory.

A royal carriage, followed by an entourage of servants on horseback, appeared on the horizon. As it drew closer, Ronny observed that the carriage was unbalanced, leaning slightly to the side. The group entered through the gate into the courtyard. King Richard, flanked by his children and his guard, came out to greet the visiting royals.

The reason for the imbalance soon became apparent, as the foreign king stepped out of the carriage. He was an elephantine, hairy giant with a thick black beard and a prominent gut that protruded over his waistline. The carriage groaned as he transferred his mammoth mass to the pavement.

“Richard!” he boomed in a bass voice. “Good to see you!” He slapped his fellow king on the shoulder with a massive fat paw and vigorously shook his hand, nearly knocking the crown off the smaller king’s head. Hardon smiled, masking his minor irritation, and reciprocated the handshake warmly.

“The pleasure is all mine, Ivan,” he replied. “And how is your son?”

“Oh, that useless maggot? He’s right here with me, as promised.” The foreign prince, his lips pressed into a thin line, joined his father. He stood with rigid posture, with his hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed neat and trim, clean-shaven except for a small black mustache and short hair smartly groomed and parted under his crown. He was not as large as his obese father, yet still possessed a pudgy belly, and was gifted with a broad, hefty frame.

Bianca was drawn to his most striking feature, his eyes. They were as bright blue as robin’s eggs and complimented his handsome face. The princess smiled at him and gave him a small wave. After a moment of hesitation, he waved back stiffly. A smile failed to grace his lips, but Bianca internally swooned as those beautiful blue irises turned her way. She was smitten.

King Ivan kept talking. “I have high expectations for Prince Ray, and he’s disappointed me countless times, but he’s made progress! I’ll whip him into shape eventually.” He wrapped a thick arm with a black forest of hair around his son’s shoulder. Ray kept a neutral expression, impervious to the degrading comments, but a hardness entered those striking eyes of his. “At least he isn’t as useless as your boy!” Ivan guffawed obnoxiously.

Ronny frowned at his rudeness, holding his fingers to his chest where Tanya’s comforting form was hidden. A shadow passed over King Richard’s countenance. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed, piercing Ronny with his pale, icy stare. Ronny shuddered, as if he’d fallen into a frozen lake. He grasped Tanya tighter in his hand, but was cognizant not to squeeze her too much.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’d like to freshen up after your long journey. Come inside, and our servants will pamper you and show you to your rooms,” Hardon offered.

“What about some FOOD? I’m starving!” King Ivan complained, rubbing his prodigious gut. “I haven’t eaten for at least a couple of hours!”

“Of course! We’ve been preparing a special meal just for you!” Hardon responded. He motioned to one of his servants, who rushed off to the kitchen to inform the chefs. He guided the prestigious guests to the dining room and settled them in. King Ivan had to smash his belly up against the table to fit, nearly scraping the sturdy wooden structure across the floor. His chair moaned underneath him, the legs struggling not to bend.

“I know you’ve been wanting to sample the ‘special crop’ of Giganterra,” Hardon remarked, wearing a mischievous leer.

King Ivan smirked. “You know what a gourmand I am. I’ll try anything, and live prey sounds delicious. You’ve certainly hyped them up enough to whet my appetite.” He slapped his belly as it grumbled eagerly to be filled.

The two kings continued to chat as the other dinner guests sat in uncomfortable silence. Ronny was tense. He didn’t anticipate they’d be eating so soon, and he didn’t want Tanya to be at the dinner table with him. Her presence was unavoidable, however, as King Richard had informed them beforehand that they’d be eating their personal humans for dinner so their visitors could enjoy the rest of the humans in a feast. Ronny determined in advance that he wouldn’t eat Tanya again, no matter what.

Bianca, sitting across the table from Prince Ray, kept sending him flirtatious winks and gestures. Ray avoided eye contact, looking around the room awkwardly and pinching at his mustache. She tried to reach his feet under the table with her own, but he shied away from her touch. In a futile effort to ease the discomfort, Ray attempted to make light conversation with Ronny instead. Unfortunately, Ronny was incapable of carrying a civilized conversation and merely grunted stilted responses. Both Ray and Ronny began to sweat.

While they waited for their food in the dining room, the chefs back in the kitchen scrambled to get dinner out earlier than they had originally planned. Bucky was in a foul temper, screaming until his face turned red and whacking workers who were too slow with a big wooden spoon. The efficient flow of the kitchen had been disrupted with Gore’s conspicuous absence: Cruor was breaking his back to pick up the slack and do the job of two men.

“Cruor! Hurry up with those humans!” Bucky snapped. “We need to use them all!” Cruor grabbed a handful of humans and plopped them in a big bowl of hearty stew intended for King Ivan. He scooped up the remaining humans—Jackie, Eren, and Iris—into his hand and tossed them into Prince Ray’s stew.

“You better not cause trouble,” he warned Eren, wagging his finger. “You may’ve gotten away with murder, but if you embarrass King Richard in front of his guests, he might actually kill you. And trust me, you DON’T want to be butchered by that bloodthirsty sadist.” Eren crossed her arms, but her face blanched. She knew she’d only escaped death before because nobody wished to invoke the ire of the king.

“Are they ready?” Bucky interrupted, stomping over. He glared down at the plates. “Cruor, I said ALL the humans!”

Cruor surveyed the rows of human terrariums, now devoid of life. He scratched his head, confused. “Huh? This is all the humans.”

“What about that little doll you’ve got stashed away in that jar?”

The giant chef jolted. “No, not her! She’s not ready!” Bucky ignored him and prowled over to the cupboard where Addison was hidden. He threw all the miscellaneous junk out of the way and tore the jar from the shelf. He unscrewed the lid and tried to stuff his hand inside, but it was too fat to fit, so he violently overturned the jar and dumped out the contents. Addison yelped as she tumbled into Bucky’s wide palm.

Cruor winced as he watched Bucky’s big tongue slide up her bare thigh. Bucky licked his lips and cleaned off his saliva with a rag. “Not the best, but she’ll do.” He lumbered back and tossed her into the king’s stew with the others. “Finish prepping the remaining servings and get them out,” he ordered.

Addison whined in terror as she floundered in the warm, thick, brown liquid, surrounded by chunks of meat and vegetables larger than her. She waded through the muck, climbing over a lump of potato and passing by other scared humans, until she reached the edge of the bowl. She attempted to scale up the slick surface, but the smooth texture did not provide sufficient grip, and she slid back down into the stew. She looked up to see Cruor’s familiar figure towering over her. He had a pained expression on his huge face, the natural wrinkles etched into his skin deepening into darker grooves.

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re here! Help me!” she cried pitifully. Cruor grimaced. His enormous hand hovered over her, engulfing her in its shadow, and Addison believed herself to be saved. Instead, a single drop of liquid splashed on her head, and the giant hand disappeared from view. “Huh? W-what was that?” Addison whimpered, her insides clenching with dread. She suddenly felt very heavy, as if she would sink into the stew and drown.

“I’m sorry, Addison,” Cruor lamented. “But we both knew this day would come.”

“Noooo...” the tiny woman moaned, fixating on Cruor with wide, frightened eyes that were rapidly moistening with tears. “You’re not... going to rescue me?”

Cruor stared down at her, not saying a word, before turning away. Addison let out a choked sob as one of the servants picked up the bowl and carried it out to the dining room. She slumped against the cold, unforgiving ceramic, wallowing in broth and misery. She had erroneously believed, for once, that somebody cared for her. She should’ve known it was too good to be true, and that she was just a worthless nobody as her mother had reinforced to her for her entire life. She ought to be bitter, but she realized she only had herself to blame, for indulging in a fantasy that she knew was a lie. Reality was more than willing to slap her in the face.

She was torn out of her thoughts when the bowl clunked onto the giant table. Addison noted a shadow looming over her and looked up to see the rotund mass of a mountainous belly above her head, gurgling audibly with hunger. She craned her neck further back to behold with horror a huge, fat, bearded giant leering down at her, drooling with hunger. The other humans swam to hide in the curve of the bowl, hoping to not be seen or consumed, but there was no escape from the gigantic ravenous maw above.

“Ohoho! These little morsels do look appetizing!” King Ivan boomed, making all the small humans jump in alarm. After a brief check of his meal from his food tester, he seized his spoon in a monstrous hairy fist and without warning plunged it into the stew, scooping up one of the naked women. She let out a shrill screech as he opened his mouth and shoved her in. Addison shuddered hard as the loud crunch of bones split the air, and blood dribbled down the giant’s lips and black beard.

“Mmmmm! Such a treat!” the king proclaimed, licking the lurid scarlet off his lips. He washed down the remains with a hearty gulp of mead.

Hardon frowned. “Ivan, I’d prefer if you didn’t chew them up. Usually we swallow them whole and then let them out after a few hours. The feeling of them squirming inside your stomach is the best part of enjoying live prey, after all.”

“Let them out? They don’t get digested?” Ivan was baffled as he scratched his beard. He took another bite of stew, oblivious to the screams of the miniature people down below.

“No. We use magic to keep them alive. They are valuable,” Hardon explained.

“Valuable?” Ivan scoffed. “Give me a few, and I’d have a breeding factory set up in no time, producing enough to fill this gargantuan gut of mine every day!” He laughed heartily as he slapped his jiggling belly. He captured another human with his spoon and slurped her up with delight. This time, he respected Hardon’s wishes and swirled her around on his tongue, enjoying her flavor, before swallowing her whole. His face lit up with pleasure when he felt the small woman thrash about, as she traveled the long distance through his esophagus before dropping into his capacious stomach. He massaged his belly with a sigh, clearly enjoying himself.

King Richard was about to inform his fellow king that the humans would not retain their luxurious flavor if contained in a breeding facility, but as he watched Ivan devour his meal, an idea entered his head. “I can see you approve of their flavor,” he mentioned slyly.

“Oh, absolutely!” Ivan confirmed, gulping down another human with gusto. He hummed with contentment as he rubbed his bulging midsection more, belching obnoxiously. “Ahhh, that hits the spot!”

Hardon knew well that food was a strong motivator for the giant glutton. “I’m sure I could find a way to sweeten our alliance, perhaps, if you’d like some high-quality human stock as seed for a breeding program. I’m sure you have things of equal value that you could share with us.” His pale eyes gleamed.

“Mmm, of course, of course,” Ivan confirmed. “Anything you’d like! You know the lengths I’ll go to for quality vittles.” He guffawed, his expression smoothing over with satisfaction as he experienced the novel sensation of tiny people struggling around inside his stomach. “Oh my, that feels so good... mmm, let’s not discuss business at dinner. I want to eat first.”

“Understandable,” King Richard agreed, taking a sip of his mead. “Enjoy yourself.”

During their conversation, Addison had splashed and sloshed through the stew desperately to evade the giant spoon chasing her around. She whimpered as she was forced to witness her fellow humans get spooned up and swallowed down, with the knowledge that her time was coming soon. If she strained her ears, she could discern the muffled cries of her compatriots from inside the body of the massive man, intermixed with the rumbling of his digestive tract. The sound was petrifying.

The stew drained around her as the giant ate, allowing her to wade through the sludge faster. Even so, she didn’t stand a chance. The spoon shot down and swept her off her feet, quick as a flash, raising her high in the air. She squeaked when she lost her balance and fell back into the curved metal bowl of the spoon, helpless to resist as the enormous, slavering mouth opened before her like the gates to hell. The spoon lurched forward towards the foreboding gullet, and the colossal jaws enclosed her in a solid cage of ivory and red flesh. She plopped onto the squishy tongue as the spoon exited the maw. She was swiftly drenched in slobbery filth as she clawed her way towards the front row of teeth, which were firmly sealed shut. The tongue wrestled her into submission, overpowering her feeble struggles. The giant hummed in his throat, vibrating the cavity with deafening bass. Addison hardly had time to process all the overwhelming sensations before she slipped down the slope of the tongue like a waterslide and straight into the gullet. The throat muscles closed around her and suctioned her down into the pit.

Addison couldn’t even scream as the wind was crushed from her lungs. She descended at an alarming rate, the slick wet tube forcing her deeper into the giant’s noisy body. After an eternity of a claustrophobic nightmare, Addison collapsed into the churning stomach, dimly lit with glowing humans fighting fruitlessly against the current. She gasped for breath, straining for air as a bucketful of stew followed her course through the esophagus and dumped on her head. Even though she knew, logically, that she wouldn’t die, panic seized her and she flailed to find a way out, to no avail.

She had suffered through many abuses in her life, but being eaten alive was by far the worst. After struggling for a while, pounding on the wrinkled lining, she gave up and allowed herself to be rocked and stirred by the shifting stomach walls. She listened to the whimpers and moans of the other humans, the thundering rumble of the giant’s voice, his resounding heartbeat and the wind current of his lungs. The whole experience was surreal, too horrid to be real or for her mind to grasp.

Trying to distract herself from her grotesque surroundings, she thought about Cruor. His betrayal was still a fresh wound in her heart, but she understood his position. She could forgive him; she wasn’t worth the sacrifice he would need to give to save her anyways. At least he’d treated her with superficial kindness, before tossing her to the wolves. It was the most she could ask for. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from weeping, as she was ensconced in the belly of the beast.

Chapter 37 (coming Monday)

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms

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fandomworld9728 · 4 months ago

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Dance With Me, Kiss Me:

"Oh Alastor, stop hiding in the corner and come join the party."

The party in question was a celebration for their victory against the Exorcist Army and had been the princess' idea. A way to thank those who helped in the battle and to raise moral.

Alastor had to admit, it wasn't a half bad idea. The residents' moods had improved tremendously after the rebuilding of the hotel and during the process of putting together this clam bake. It had even turned into an impromptu bonding activity for some of them.

Which is the reason the radio demon was standing in a corner away from everyone, nursing a drink. He had found himself getting a little too close to the King of Hell. Most sinners would give anything for that chance. Alastor on the other hand? It scared him.

Once they started to have an actual conversation, it was frightening how easily Alastor had spilt his guts to the other man. As if they had been close for years. Charlotte was correct in her insistences that the two were similar and would get along if they just gave it a chance.

Their distaste in modern technology, mainly television, was one of the main bonding points. The other... had been their lack of interest in romance and carnal desires. It had led to the deer demon confessing to the fallen angel how much he hated kissing and his horrible experience with the action.

"Then how do you know for sure?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"How do you know for sure if you dislike kissing? All you have to go off of is that one bad experience."

As much as Alastor hated to admit it, and he would never say this out loud, Lucifer had a point. Not that he was eager to lock lips with someone. However, their talk got him thinking. And not just about kissing.

"I am contemplating my next move. Tell me, my dear, what is your stance on our king? Do you believe him to be trustworthy?"

If there was anyone's opinion he valued down here in Hell, it was Rosie's. She was an excellent judge of character (not counting her many ex-husbands) and had a talent for reading people.

"Well now, what a surprise. Finally making a move to add the other member of Hell's royal family to your plans? Let me see."

Getting her teasing out of the way, Rosie let her eyes scan the room for Hell's King. She knew something had been up with her friend since she saw him. And if he was coming to her about it on his own, she wasn't gonna mess with him about it. Not too much anyways.

Finding her target off on his own, Rosie took a few moments to watch him before turning back to her fellow Overlord.

"I may not know a lot from personal experience about our lovely ruler, however, if there were anyone here in Hell to trust... honestly it would be Charlie. That being said, do remember who raised that sweet girl."

Leaning against a wall, Lucifer lightly swirled his drink in his hand and took the chance to people watch. It's something he's enjoyed since he first came into creation. Now, the fallen angel was usually the life of the party, but that was because those parties were with the other Sins and upper-class Hellborns.

He didn't want the guests to feel like they had to walk on eggshells when they should be having fun. So, he stayed as a wallflower and made sure no one caused any trouble. One less thing for his little girl to worry about. This also gave him time to think about his conversation with Alastor.

Turns out talking to the radio demon was easier and surprisingly enjoyable when he wasn't intentionally trying to piss the king off. So much so, that the two openly discussed their experiences with intimacy.

"So, you had not so great times with that kind of stuff too?"

"Indeed. A former friend of mine, Vox, showed me how unpleasant and repulsive kissing can be. Not to mention the time I grew up in."

"Oh yeah. Dating culture was a lot different back then. What had he done to make kissing so gross to you?"

Lucifer knew as soon as Alastor hesitated that a line had been crossed. That seriously pissed him off. He had half a mind to go find that piece of scum and handle the sinner himself.

No one deserved that. Not even murderers who cannibalized their victims and seemed to love to poke and pick at the devil to get a reaction out of him. Who has done other horrible things in his life and afterlife. Before he could get too spun up from the memory, a hand came into view, outstretched to him.

"Care to dance, majesty?"

Next >

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel au #aroace lucifer morningstar #aroace alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel rosie #lucifer morningstar #never been in love hazbin hotel #dance with me kiss me

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peaches2217 · 1 year ago

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“I’m here to kidnap the king,” Luigi says, leaning into the room where Mario’s busying himself with administration work.

“I was rather hoping you would.” Toadsworth has clearly been assisting him, but now he’s tidying up and sweeping papers aside as Mario’s head swivels back and forth between the two. Then Toadsworth is herding him towards the door and bidding him a restful afternoon as he’s led away. Luigi tries not to find Mario’s flustered confusion funny, but he can’t quite help himself.

That said, Mario looks awful. His eyes are dark and sunken in, his hair and mustache are messier than usual, and the stubble on his chin and cheeks is patchy, like he hurriedly started shaving days ago and then gave up halfway through. It’s not really surprising; Peach is due any day now, and he’s taken on her responsibilities while she’s on combination bed rest/baby watch.

Peach, in fact, is the one who sent Luigi to kidnap Mario. He spends all day fretting over royal duties he’s not as well-equipped to handle and then spends all night fretting over her. The only sleep he gets is when he gets still and his body forces him into rest, but he’s right back up as soon Peach makes the slightest movement or he hears any sound other than basic ambience. And Peach can’t even stand for very long without help at this point, so her efforts to get him to relax and rest have amounted to nothing.

Cue an elaborate plot that involves Luigi, Daisy, Toadette, and Toadsworth, because she knows four people is the absolute bare minimum it’ll take to get him to stop struggling.

So while Luigi leads his bedraggled brother to a spare bedroom, he lets him know that Toadsworth is covering all of his assignments (which he’s more adept at anyway), Daisy and Toadette are keeping Peach company and watching over her condition, they’ll let the brothers know if there’s any developments, and otherwise, Mario is going to sleep for the rest of the day at the absolute least.

Mario, predictably, resists. These are all his burdens to bear! He’s king consort! He’s Peach’s husband! He’s the father of her child! He can’t just put all of this off onto other people! And Luigi just hums and nods and lets him keep ranting while he coerces him into some nightclothes, because he’s sure talking is the only thing keeping him awake at this point.

Somehow, he finally gets Mario to lay down, and he climbs under the covers with him, both because it’s the best way to guarantee he won’t try sneaking out at some point and because he wants to let him know he’s there, and he can, in fact, give his burdens to other people. That alone does wonders. Comfortable, warm, and alone with his brother, Mario cracks and lets it all out: he’s scared, and he feels worthless. Not because he’s not as good a ruler as Peach, no, him being acting ruler is only temporary after all. But he feels like he’s failing her.

Luigi holds Mario and strokes his hair as he sleepily, almost tearfully pours his heart out. The final weeks of her pregnancy have taken a toll on Peach. She’s weakened, and she’s uncomfortable, and he can’t change that. He can help, but he can’t take away her pain. And what sort of a man does that make him? He’s supposed to protect her. He’s supposed to protect them. Surely he’ll make for one sorry father if his inability to help Peach is any indicator. He doesn’t care that he can’t sleep; she’s constantly tired too, so the least he can do is share in her suffering at least a little. He wishes he could suffer more. He would take it all from her if he could, but he can’t, and he’s convinced himself that that’s some kind of moral failing on his part.

Anyone listening could tell you his fears are nothing more than a combination of new parent jitters and sleep deprivation blowing otherwise rational concerns out of proportion, but that doesn’t make Luigi’s heart hurt any less for him. Mario’s top priority has always been the well-being of his loved ones. There’s a lot on his plate right now, and there’s absolutely no way he can manage it all alone, but that hasn’t stopped him from trying. Luigi wishes he would have stepped in sooner.

But for now, all Mario needs is a listening ear and many, many, many hours of sleep. Having given him the former, Luigi encourages him to take the latter, promising to help in any way he can once they wake up. Mario’s family is his family too, after all. And having used up the last of his energy lamenting his woes, Mario finally stops resisting.

“She’s so strong, Weegee,” he mutters, and Luigi can barely understand him. He’s already dozing off. “I need to be strong too.”

“Then sleep, stars’ sake.” Luigi grins and ruffles his hair. “You can’t take care of her unless you take care of yourself too.”

Mario makes a noise that might be an agreement or might be one final protest, and then he’s breathing deeply and evenly. He sleeps until the following afternoon, and Luigi stays by his side the whole while.

#this got Long #forgive me 😭#super mario bros #smb #mareach #mario x peach #peaches has opinions #tw pregnancy

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dragon-ascent · 2 years ago

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Ball-dancing with Morax

dragon emperor morax, a ball, and you.

The royal ball is a time when nobility and commoners come together at the palace in honour of the kind emperor’s birth month. Emperor Morax is a just and fair ruler, beloved by all. Well, all except you.

You are a prophesied Hero sent by a holy oracle to kill Morax for his genocide of the people of Khaenri’ah some centuries ago. The incident had been erased from the memories of all other land-dwellers, giving him the appearance of having a clean slate. It’s your destiny to bring about justice for his actions.

Your plan is to dance with Morax, who often enjoys dancing with his subjects, slip a magical poison into his drink, and let it destroy him. The poison takes three days to act and blends seamlessly into the bloodstream once it has done its duty, so nobody will ever be able to trace it back to this day.

The day of the ball, you are dressed in your finest gown, your face and hair done to perfection as well. There is no need for a concealed weapon in case things go awry, as Morax operates under a strict moral code of never harming the people under his reign. Oh, how that will come back to bite him soon enough.

He looks ravishing tonight, his golden horns decorated with small rivulets of silk and glass beads. His tail is out on full display, the fine gold fur shining with every movement. His toned body is draped in a rich brown silk long pao, his own dragon emblem adorning the fine cloth. His deep amber eyes, accentuated by the red on his lower eyelids, are mellowed into a beaming smile as the festivities begin.

He is the kind of man you would fall in love with; he is the kind of man you would plunge a dagger into.

Emperor Morax dances with some of the men and women brave enough to share the spotlight with him, until finally his intense gaze settles on you invitingly. You step up to the offer with ease, taking his hands - calloused and big - and following his lead.

It’s magical, the way he guides you along the ballroom with all the grace of a Qilin. It feels like gliding, and for a second you wonder what it would be like to soar through the skies with Morax in his pure dragon form.

His touches are gentle, his words equally soft as he regales you with amusing anecdotes from days of yore, soft laughter ringing like temple bells every time you nearly fumble a step.

Soon enough, he suggests going to the balcony from some fresh night air and a drink, and you readily oblige. His hand rests on the small of your back, like that of a lover, and you cannot help but melt ever so slightly at the gesture. Your heart refreezes itself once more as you remind yourself what this dragon had done once upon a forgotten time.

Still, as he pulls you to himself while he tells you how beautiful you look tonight, you decide to indulge.

His kisses are just as tender and gentle as his hands, and they linger on your skin like eventide dewdrops. When your lips connect, it feels like the earth itself has given way and you are free-falling, with Morax being the one to break the fall. Minutes pass before he deems it fit to pull away.

The way he slides his hands along the curve of your waist and settles there; it is almost as though you are someone completely familiar to him. His smile is like stars bursting forth through shadow. You cannot get enough, it’s intoxicating.

His beautiful brown and gold tail flexes and coils around you tenderly, the scales shimmering like quartz. So enamored by his tail are you, that you hardly register the sinister golden gleam that flashes across his irises for a split second.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “My dear, you are the seventh incarnation of the Hero I have had to deal with.”

(just a concept, might turn this into a full-fledged fic if people are interested.)

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #sini writes #zhongli x you #morax #morax x reader

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brighterdaysarebeforeus · 1 year ago

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I, apparently, get some validation in the form of likes and I go all gung-ho about writing stuff.

Anyway, Part 1 on Aladdin!AU punkflower.

Miles Morales…was bored.

He was sat next to his dad, at the head of the table, because for the past three months his father had decided that Miles was old enough to start listening in on the financials of their kingdom. Miles had been excited, at first, ready to help his kingdom and start thinking of ways to present himself as someone to be taken seriously; until he actually sat through four or five meetings and realized what they usually ended up being: a group of people, sitting around a table once a week, discussing what to do with money the kingdom barely had and how to generate more money for it, and all he was supposed to do was sit down and listen. Every so often his dad would interject, throwing out this idea or that one, and the table would devolved into a debate about how it would work.

The group consisted of Jeff Morales, the king, and Miles, the prince. Wilson Fisk, the royal advisor, was sitting on the left of his father, two seats down so that he was visible to both king and prince. Miguel O’Hara, the captain of the guards, was on Miles’s right, directly across from Wilson. They had their respective seconds next to them, Olivia for Wilson and Jessica (or Jess) for Miguel. The seat next to Jess was taken up by Pavitr Prabhakar, who was representing the Prabhakar family as a whole as the son of the earl; across from him was the Watson family representative, the countess Mary Jane (or MJ). On Pavitr’s other side was Peter Benjamin Parker, who usually went by Noir and theoretically wasn’t part of the meeting per say, but was sent to watch over Pavitr due to the teen being the Prabhakar’s only child. Rounding out the last of the people in the meeting were William Baker, and Adrian Toomes, both of whom were fairly new additions to the table, according to his dad.

The meeting today was sort of dragging on, and where he sat next to his dad meant that he was just out of reach of the sun, but there was still a lot of heat coming in through the window to make him sleepy. Combined with the late night he’d had the night before and the fact that while his clothes were elegant, they were thin and very comfortable meant that Miles was kind of ready to doze off and take a nap. He was slouched as much as he could be, staring blankly at Wilson as the man droned on and on about…taxes, he thought? Or the guards training. One of the two, Wilson always seemed weirdly focused on those two things. Miles had known the man for years, he’d held his position since before Miles had been born. Outside of the meetings he was usually fairly quiet, a startling trait for someone as big as Wilson was, and was good at somehow moving money around so that his dad could continue running the kingdom the way he needed to without worrying too much. He was smart, Miles could give him that, and definitely was the kind of man that had brute strength on his side; he made Miguel look tiny in comparison, and Miguel was also a fairly big guy, so…

His dad rapped his knuckles on the arm rest, making Miles sit up straighter and blink rapidly to cover the fact that he was zoning out a bit. From a bit further down, Pavitr leaned onto his palms, covering his mouth in a way that made him look like he was deeply invested in what Wilson was saying; Miles could tell was just to hide the grin on his face from Miles getting caught out.

Miles couldn’t even glare back at him, not from his position at the head of the table, and especially not with his dad right next to him, nodding sharply at whatever Miguel started with next. Captain of the guard and all, it was definitely about the guards this time and Miles sort of wanted to slam his head into the back of his chair.

He wouldn’t mind it so much if he could actually participate; hell, Pavitr could throw in ideas and join the debates going around the table, and so could Mary Jane, and even his dad could jump in when he wanted, but Miles couldn’t say anything. The first time he offered an idea, four meetings in, the entire table save for Pavitr and his dad laughed at him and when he tried to defend his idea, his dad shut it down.

Afterwards, his dad had told him “listen, son, I know you want to help, but you need to learn what’s going on in the kingdom before you can start participating in running it.”

So here he was. Learning, though Miles thought that the meetings always ended up going round in circles without ever changing anything. Clearly nothing was working, because these meetings were held every week without fail and sometimes it felt like the same four ideas thrown around all the time: open the kingdom gates more often for travelers, raise taxes, raise rents, funnel less money into the upkeep of the kingdom. Nothing about the actual people in the kingdom, how this affects their day to day living, and at the end of the meeting nothing is decided. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Until…

“The prince is fifteen now, right? What if Miles marries?” The sound of his name jolted him into attention, and Miles’s eyes locked onto Wilson’s as the man looked him over. “We can start searching for eligible candidates, maybe have him married by this time next year.”

Wait.

“What does Miles getting married have to do with the kingdom’s financials?” Pavitr asked. His eyes were narrowed at Wilson, though he was approximately the same size as Miles so it kind of looked like a month old puppy glaring down a husky. Still, he seemed to be the only one who wasn’t seriously considering it; even Mary Jane was looking thoughtful, hands crossed in front of her mouth delicately.

“Look at it this way,” Miguel told Pavitr, whose gaze didn’t shift even though Wilson wasn’t talking anymore. “If Miles marries, especially someone from a neighboring kingdom, then we can start working towards helping the population here. New food, new traffic, money coming into the kingdom instead of out of it.”

“He’s only fifteen.” Mary Jane said musingly, drawing attention to her while she looked to the king, “Doesn’t he have to wait until he’s matured enough to make decisions like that on his own, according to the law?”

“Hey, I can make decisions like that on my own!” Miles interjected, and Pavitr shot him a look that read shut up, shut up now, stop talking. Miles gulped, especially when all the eyes turned to him. “I-I mean, like, in the right — ”

“He is too young to start looking at marriage.” His dad said, and Miles breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Nobody liked to go against the king, so if his dad thought he was too young —

“I understand that his age is an issue,” Wilson said, “but the marriage wouldn’t necessarily have to happen right away in order to be beneficial to the kingdom.” Jeff leaned forward, and Miles felt his heart sink. It was basically a sign saying ‘continue’, and that meant his father had gone from being against the idea to seriously considering it now. Wilson knew this, too; a small smirk tilted his mouth. “We can set up an arrangement with a neighboring kingdom, have a long engagement, and marry them when they’re of age. Gives them plenty of time to get to know each other, all that stuff.”

“I don’t want to get married, though!” Miles said, and he was ignored as his dad leaned back in his chair. He looked thoughtful, which spelled bad things for Miles, he could tell.

And then, sure enough, his dad ran his hand over his face, shifting his glasses just slightly, and said “let me talk it over with his mother.”

#miles morales #punkflower #pavitr prabhakar #spider noir #jeff davis #jeff morales #wilson fisk #miguel o'hara #part 1 #a whole new world au

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

Note

can i please request some more rowaelins daughter x elorcans daughter? maybe some jealousy? imagine they’ve only told their parents about their relationship and want to wait incase of anything happening to them. And at one of the balls held in terrassen, someone in her parents court come up to her and introduce their son to reader. Reader is standing next to Diane and their parents. Di is absolutely fuming and gets closer to reader. Reader just smiles and declines. Right then and there they decide to announce their bond and relationship.

I’m Flattered But…

Elorcan daughter x Rowaelin daughter!reader

A/n: these two are my new favs to write for🥰

Warnings: teeny tiny angst

A knock sounds on your door just as your handmaidens put the finishing touches on your gown. You watch in the mirror as Diana enters, stopping as she looks at you in awe.

“Wow,” she breathes out, “you look so beautiful.” You smile at her through your reflection as she comes closer. “Thank you ladies.” You say in dismissal. You want alone time with Diana before the ball tonight.

While your family, immediate and extended, know of your relationship the rest of the kingdom does not.

You turn on the raised platform, holding out your hands for your mate to take. She holds them tight, gazing down at you with love in her dark chocolate eyes.

You’re almost eye level with Diana. She inherited her fathers height making her almost six feet tall. While you stand at a comfortable five foot six. Personally, you love the height difference. Tall and muscular, Diana is every inch the warrior her father molded her into.

Leaning up you capture Diana’s lips with yours in a slow, loving kiss. When you pull back you wipe your lipstick from her plump bottom lip. “You’ll dance with me right?” “Uh-huh.” She hums out wrapping her arms around your hips as she lifts you off the platform.

Diana holds out her arm for you to take. “I’m also here to take you down to the ballroom.” You playfully roll your eyes at her, “Of course you are.”

The ball was going just like any other. Your whole extended family was in attendance. Manon and Dorain accompanied by Chaol and Yrene with their daughters. Elide and Lorcan with Diana’s siblings, Aedion and Lysandra, Gavriel even talked Vaughn into coming out of his hiding spot.

Before dinner and the real party started you, your brothers Sam and Nolan, and your sisters Malin and Evelin, stand by your parents thrones. As the oldest you stand between your parents to greet royal delegations or other lords and lady’s.

You tensed as your eyes landed on a lord and his son from Melisande. Looking at your father you saw a muscle in his jaw tick. He hates Lord Stagspire and his entitled son, Owen. They boy had been given everything he asked for since birth. Which made him think he was entitled to you.

Your mother let out a sigh as they approached, joining the staring session you and your father were having. They knew exactly what Lord Stagspire was here to ask. And the answer was a firm no. But as Queen, King, and Princess you had to put on a smile and play nice.

“Queen Aelin, King Rowan.” Lord Stagspire bowed deeply along with Owen. You gave a small curtesy back. As the lord prattles on kissing up to your parents you try to look anywhere but at Owen. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your dress.

You finally found Diana talking to one of Chaol and Yerne’s daughters. Her gaze met yours and she tilted her head in confusion. She began to make her way over to the dias. When she spotted Owen anger flashed across her beautiful features making her pace quicken.

Diana sidled up to Aedion at the edge of the dias, pretending to speak to him as she watched Owen like a hawk. She knew he made you uncomfortable. You felt better even if Diana was just off to the side for moral support. Plus you knew she’d absolutely kill Owen if he ever tried to fight her. The little lordling was absolutely pathetic.

Lord Stagspire clearing his throat brought you back to the conversation. “Now that your daughter and Owen are of age, I wanted to propose a marriage between the two. I think they’d make a fine pair your highness.” You heard Nolan cover up his laugh with a cough. Your mother didn’t hide hers however. Then you felt the rage from Diana’s side of the bond. You had to put an end to this before the two females you love most cause a scene.

Stepping forward, you place a hand on your mothers shoulder, giving her a calming look. “I’m flattered my lord but unfortunately, I don’t believe Owen and I’s pairing would be a fit.” Before he could say something he could regret Lord Stagspire gripped his sons shoulder, holding him back.

“Princess y/n, I was speaking to your parents.” “About a matter involving me and the crown I will one day wear. So I believe I have a say.” Your mother speaks up next. “I trust my daughters judgment and she is allowed to speak for herself as future queen of Terrasen. But, we thank you for coming tonight.” Your mother waved him off and he begrudgingly left.

At dinner you were quieter than usual. You had to sit with your family at the head table. Staring at your mate with a far away look you became a little jealous. You wanted to socialize with her and your friends. You wanted to show off your relationship freely.

Your mother nudged you with her elbow. “You’ve been quite since the dias. What’s wrong my love?” You let out a sigh placing down your fork and knife. That far off look not leaving your face. “I just want to be able to spend time with Diana during these things. I know we haven’t accepted the bond yet. But I want us to be able to be happy together.”

Aelin’s heart broke in that moment. As a mother all she wants is for her children to be happy. She would let you and Diana do whatever you wanted, Elide as well, but your fathers had voiced some concern. They just wanted to keep their baby girls safe.

Looking at Rowan, Aelin found the same heartbreaking look on his face. “I’ll go talk to Lorcan.” He said down the bond. The King pushed back from the table and strode over to the Lord and Lady of Perranth. Crouching, Rowan spoke to his brother.

Roughly five minutes later Rowan returned with a smile on his face. He gave Aelin a thumbs up and her lips widened into a grin.

Your mother leaned over to whisper in your ear, “What if we announce it right now?” You look at your mother with wide eyes. “Are you sure?” She nods lightly. Standing, Aelin raises her wine glass, tapping her fork against the side to demand the attention of the room.

“Thank you all for coming this evening. It is so wonderful to see my friends, my people, and leaders of Erilea together. It truly warms my heart.” She slowly set her glass down as your heart pounded in your ears. You ripped your eyes from your mother to look at Diana.

Elide was whispering in her ear about what Aelin was about to announce. Your mate looked to you with the biggest smile on her face that you returned. “On top of all other happy events of this evening this announcement is my favorite. My daughter, Princess y/n, has found her mate! She and Lady Diana Lochan are planning their ceremony and we hope you can join us when the happy occasion arrives.”

Applause sounds around the ballroom and Diana rushes to you. You pull her to a tight embrace, resting your head against her shoulder. You pull apart and the applause dies down. “Go have the first dance,” your mother encouraged.

You took Diana’s hand leading her to the dance floor. The quartet began playing and Diana began guiding you across the floor. “You sure you’re ok with this?” You ask, looking up at her with a bright eyes. “I’m more than ok.” You felt so happy you could cry. You sent a wave of love down the bond that Diana returned as she spun you.

Pulling you back to her chest you started laughing. “What is it love?” “We’re going to have to start planning our ceremony.”

#throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #throne of glass x you #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre

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trumai-jpg · 11 months ago

Text

How To Get Over an Ex

(and get under a friend)

Pairings: Nicole/Jecka, Nicole/Ari

Characters: Nicole, Jecka, Ari (mentioned)

Words: 4,567

AO3: Link

Summary:

March 2008,

It's been a while now since Ari had finally learned to "stand up for herself" and Nicole is being- well, Nicole about the whole thing, but for the first time in a long time she opens up a smidge.

You know, you’d expect life to be easy when you're pretty. What's there to complain about after all, right? When you're skinny and white you can do basically anything after all - and yet one girl was always two steps away from making a make-shift noose purely to prove some kind of point- must run in the family. Nicole wasn't depressed, just suicidal. Even with all the little piss-baby anime dweebs and insecure somnopholes basically submitting to her every whim, you would think Nicole’s life would be going great, yeah? Well, you don't know shit. Today though? Today was a bit of an exception. Being Friday - specifically the second Friday of the month - Nicole had a guest over, one to stay the night actually. Who else but her apparent best and only real friend, Jecka. Short for Jessica. An absolute preppy bitch-queen from first glance but when you look a little deeper she ends up just being… well, all of those things still but just with fancier clothes. Her and Nicole worked well off of each other, the brunette found. Neither questioned one another's morals– and if they did then they wouldn't really give much of a shit. Having her over was fun, keeping Nicole from going off the wall fucking bonkers. Sometimes it was just nice to chill and get high without catching Rs from a forty-year-old gym teacher, y’know? Well- if they could talk over the sounds of her piece-of-shit morbidly obese brother begging girls who just had their first period last week for pictures of their feet or whatever gross shit he's into this week.

No, all those problems could stay out there tonight. Nicole’s door was locked tight - having gotten one installed after her aforementioned brother was caught stealing her clothes. Jecka herself was minding her own business on Nicole’s own mauve bedspread, while the girl in blue - Nicole - she was sitting on the ugly-carpeted beige floor, back to the bed frame, sitting just in front of the freakishly pink blond. She changed before coming over, dressing in something way more casual. Denim up to her waist, making sure to show off that smidge of skin that every girl had to make sure was exposed just above her below button - as well as a Mormon-ass pink tee. Nicole on the other hand? She was wearing something pretty typical, a royal top with thin and tight straps arching over her exposed shoulders with some design that she figured would look cool on the front. Along with her ponytail, her and Jecka made for pretty contrasting-looking girls. You wouldn't expect the two to get along well as they do- because “apparently” a flowing ponytail is considered emo just as long as it's not a bright colour; If it's blond you're preppy, black, you're goth, any kinda unnatural dyed colour and you're a lesbian.

Nicole’s room was thick with smoke, shit looked like that movie– Silent Hill, at least it fits with her trashy $2 ‘DOPE’ poster sitting proudly just above her bed. Look, both the girls’ tolerance to this shit was utterly maxed, but it was more just like… something to do. What else were two popular girls meant to do for the night, talk? They cracked the window and everything but clearly it wasn't doing too much, as Jecka's lips wrapped around the edge of a flimsy-rolled joint done with tissue paper. With each inhale she left a glossy imprint of herself. Honestly, a lot of their time together wasn't even spent talking. They were the types of friends who really just enjoyed having company, though the first to open their mouth would of course be.. Jecka.

“Okay so like, honest question, right-” This was something she had on her mind from the looks of things, leaning her head back against the poster mentioned prior.

“Yeah?” Compared to Jecka, Nicole’s voice came off as much lower- with less ‘haha omg look how cute I am!’ and more like, ‘i’m gonna fucking blow my brains out.’

“Fuck, Marry, Kill: Principal Lynn, Mr. White, or The Counselor.” With each name, Jecka spoke out with her hands, spilling ashes narrowly around an ashtray atop Nicole’s blankets yet somehow consistently missing it.

“Ugh, are you serious–? Fuck marriage, I kill myself.” Nicole was quick to it, twisting her head back to face the girl just behind her. “What could have possibly prompted this question?” There was real confusion in her voice

Jecka let out a hearty sigh. “Why can't you ever just play along?” Then with another breath, she let out more mist, making its way up to the ceiling.

“Because every guy is—”

“Yeah, yeah- a rapist or pedophile, I know.” Jecka repeated, mimicking Nicole’s own de facto catchphrase. “Besides, Miss Lynn isn't a guy so what about her-? you're like- a little gay, right?” she snickered.

“Not exclusively.” Nicole shrugged, a hand itching behind her neck, holding the same sort of unravelling joint in her mouth, eyebags reaching from bottom to top. “And, I don't really wanna be ‘tunnel-buddies’ with my Mom.”

“Oh wait for real, still?”

“Yeah dude, I caught my Mom sexting her like last week, who knew, right?” Nicole could only let out a smirk without any real emotion behind it, finding only a morsel of joy in being able to shit-talk her own mom behind her back.

“No– I know that, I meant the gay thing- like lesbian gay?”

“The-... I’m not following.” Nicole seemed genuinely confused.

“Well, like, I always figured you just acted like you were into girls to fuck with Ari-” This was partially true. “You're still out?”

“I mean… yes?” This conversation was exhausting for a girl like Nicole. Hell, ever since ‘dating’ Ari, she hadn't thought about her own Sexuality once… well, maybe once or twice on a lonely night while jerking off deadpan to the occasional Katy Perry music video but not much else. “No? Kinda?” She stuttered over her own words. “If it's convenient for me, sure.”

“Huh.” Jecka seemed a little surprised still, though her friend wondered why… this was pretty in character for Nicole after all, so why seem so shocked. “So you're like… selective-bi, huh?”

“Jecka, I'm not selective-anything. I'm like the cat in Schrodinger's Dike.” Nicole scoffed, mispronouncing the name of her own reference in the process.

“Wouldn't you be more like the box?” The confused ball of prep replied with a tilt of her head.

“Fucking— it doesn't matter, you get the point– since when do you pay attention in physics?” Nicole slammed her palm down on the bed, tilting over the duo’s ashtray and spilling a tad more ash on the bed, something neither of them seem to notice.

“Since flirting stopped working on Mr. Burdledy…” She mumbled, eyes darting away from her friend. “I guess that makes sense though… God, I wish I could have your mindset, Nicole!”

“What, the lesbian thing, or the sociopath thing?” Nicole asked in that typically monotone way of hers, raising an eyebrow at the question.

“Eh… both?” As she started speaking, Jecka forced the end of her cigarette onto the $4 ashtray with a Chinese symbol for ‘Japan’ engraved into it, leaning her head down as the paper looked to immediately unwrap right as Jecka’s hands were free of it. Nicole didn't even buy the tray, the damn thing was Kylar’s. “Do you ever, like… think about Ari still?”

Nicole looked almost offended, tapping the end of her own joint just against their novelty-stolen ashbin. “What kinda dumbass question is that? Do you ever think about Mr. Burdledy still-?!” The ponytailed sociopath slowly got up, moving herself up and onto her own bed, just to Jecka’s right. The question probably shouldn't have struck a nerve as far as it did - after all, Nicole genuinely didn't care for her - never did, never will. So what was the problem? It's… it's complicated. The bed creaked under Nicole as she made herself comfortable, this anorexic bed’s springs not being made for two people putting their whole dump-trucks on one spot. There would probably end up being some broken springs, especially with whatever Jecka was carrying around.

“That's so different though! I flirt with my teacher to get better grades. YOU dated a codependent lesbian for two months straight, made her ADORE you, and then turned her straight!”

“Yeah, and I would've gotten away with it for longer if it wasn't for a literal pedophile—” Nicole almost sounded proud of herself for that, a snarky smile glued on her face while thinking about it more, and… look- Nicole doesn't feel bad for doing these sorts of things, or she shouldn't. She knows she shouldn't. The fuck did she do wrong? It was Ari’s fault for getting obsessed with HER! Not the other way around!

“Look, all I'm saying is you've been here for like… over a year now, and that's STILL been the only time I've ever seen you in a relationship. Hell, it's the only time I've ever seen you kiss anyone.” Nicole wanted to cut Jecka off right here, why is she just repeating shit that they both already know? Nicole dated Ari, she got dumped by Ari, then Ari became like, a weird bi-straight package deal because of just how desperate she was or something, right? “That stuff doesn't mean anything to you?”

Nicole paused for a moment, putting out her own cigarette straight next to Jecka’s. The tray was between them, surrounded by ashes. For a moment, Nicole made eye contact with her friend. “...No.” Nicole’s honesty was completely up in the air here, her voice always having this disingenuous sound to it. “If you care so much, why don't you just fucking date her?” She muttered out sarcastically, well- maybe adding ‘sarcastically’ to that is a tad redundant, huh?

Now… look, this isn't some sorta situation where Nicole is secretly locking herself away in her bathroom every night- slashing away at her arms because boo-fucking-hoo she's so sad or something. Nicole had truly never stopped to really acknowledge her own wrongdoings when it came to Ari. Nicole was NOT gonna be one of those bitches who ends up crying about their ex or something because she DID NOT EVEN CARE FOR HER WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER! So what is this feeling? This feeling that she gets staring at corny pictures Ari wanted to take while they were together- what's this trashy feeling she gets in her guts when she remembers how those stupid cheek-kisses felt? Why did she always end up remembering the fucking phenomenonal head a desperate bitch like Ari gives when doing-... Literally anything! It wasn't guilt, guilt is for ugly bitches.

Jecka sighed, staring straight forward to the tiny, powered off flatscreen that Nicole had set up just above two drawers filled with stolen percocet and a whole ass brick of coke that she never really figured out what to do with. She wasn't about to snort it or anything- that's like college drugs. Plus if she did, she'd probably end up killing someone. “Didn't you try to kill yourself over that breaking up or something?”

Right– yeah, the night after Ari broke things off with her, Nicole ended up with her wrists cut open in a lukewarm bathtub. “Yeah, but it was hardly a real suicide, more like one of those ones you do to make someone feel bad.” Nicole muttered coldly. She ended up being saved by her Mom last minute, which if nothing else means she gets these cool wrist scars from now on, huh?

“Oh wow, so you really are just- evil then, huh?” Jecka wasn't even saying this to be mean- it wasn't even really negative.

“I don’t– look, I don't know, man-.” okay- fucking, fine– Jecka finally cracked the egg enough to have a hint of humanity shine through, if you can even call it that. Nicole despised doing shit like this, whenever anyone else did she would beg for them to just get to the goddamn point, and yet here she was- a tinge of vulnerability maybe? Fuck that shit! “If I tell you I feel shitty will that make you fuck off!?” Nicole scoffed, rolling her eyes away from the blond.

That sort of reaction would invoke a bizarre response from anyone, hearing it from Nicole was especially odd. Nothing really seemed to ever really phase her, so why this? Eh, who gives a shit, right? Not Jecka for one. The thing that made their friendship so great is they stayed out of each other's business. They weren't the types of friends who talked to each other about ‘feelings’ or anything stupid like that– if they did it's usually entirely by accident. “I mean…” Eh, did she want to push this? Would it only anger Nicole more? Oh fuck it. “...Do you feel bad?” Jecka had a moment of sincerity in her voice, leaning forward to get a closer look at Nicole’s concealed face, turned about twenty-five degrees away from her friends, and with a hand casually covering her mouth. The question left the room silent, under any other circumstance Nicole would've brushed this off as an easy thing to deny, and even when it happened she wasn't, like-... Too peeved or anything. She still hated Ari’s guts for stealing her goddamned excuse, but—... She didn't really know what this was, this type of longform guilt. Guys TRIED to make her feel it all of the time, they tried to make her seem like the bad guy for not fucking them on the turn of a dime… maybe it's because Ari… wasn't trying to get her to feel bad. Did Ari even care about her anymore, think of her?? Oh fuck off! Of course she did! What, can ‘Hunter’ give the sorta fucking heavenly head that Nicole did? Yeah! Let's see him try! Nicole was deliberating all of this in real time, hardly even ignoring Jecka’s question. All the while her friend turned her own body to face the brunette. An idiot would think she was actually a little concerned. Her movements were slow, a hand decorated in hot pink polish reached out to the young woman’s exposed shoulder, hoping to maybe help her? People do that in movies, right? Put their hands on peoples shoulders… though, just as Jecka had made contact with Nicole’s bare skin, something… happened.

“AH!”

Her voice echoed out, this cynical sociopath’s hand darting up and across Jecka’s porcelain white cheek - SHE SLAPPED HER IN THE GODDAMN FACE! - no more than a second after feeling her make any kind of contact. It wasn't just that though– Nicole pushed her own body back along the bed, staring at Jecka in complete confusion. “What the fuck was that-?!”

And Jecka? Oh- she was PISSED! She'd have to deal with a red handprint on her face till god knows when, she quickly covered the spot Nicole instinctively smacked the hell out of with an irritated expression. “AH-! You Bitch! I was trying to help you feel better!”

“Fucking HELP ME?!” Nicole repeated. “By doing what— grabbing my arm?!”

“I barely grazed you, Nicole!” Jesus Christ… what the fuck was this girl's deal? I mean… she knew what Nicole’s deal was just fine, but that shit was INSTINCTIVE! If this is what being a good friend was then maybe Jecka wasn't entirely cut out for it… ugh, no- she was too deep in now. Sighing out, her golden eyes shined as they looked into Nicole’s own shining sapphires. God, when was the last time someone gave this chick a hug? Jecka thought to herself. Her friend was…uncharacteristically on edge. Was that the right term? She wasn't exactly shaking or anything, more just extremely closed off. Maybe that in itself wasn't all that out of character for Nicole but this whole situation just felt bizarre. Did she really feel… like, a little guilty…? Well, either way Jecka had tried and failed to get an answer out of her, and honestly she wasn't nearly high enough for this conversation if Nicole was gonna be like that about it. She sighed, facing away from her friend once more, all the while they stayed in silence, an awkward aura filling the room, tensions rising as Nicole crossed her arms, puffing her cheeks and attempting to keep all this shit deep down where it should stay… but like, who are we kidding?

“...Okay, fine bitch, I'm sorry.”

Now Jecka had really seen it all. She looked back to Nicole, a flush of scarlet across her face out of… shame? Nah- Nicole didn't know the meaning of the word, this was just unadulterated embarrassment. Her body language was pretty closed off too - her chicken-wing thighs stuck together as her arms stayed cross just under her chest.

“...Yeah?” What? You thought Jecka was about to say some shit like ‘I forgive you!’? Please. Remember who these people are for a second. For now, all this newly-bruised girl could do was wait and listen.

“Alright.” Okay fine, this was it. She might as well get it out now… for the first time since she moved here she was about to actually open up. If Jecka spreads this around then she'll just kill herself or something. “Promise you won't tell anyone…?” Fuck! Her body was cringing on impulse on this shit.

“Are you fucking serious– You really think I'd do that!?” Jecka snapped back.

“I… eh.”

“Ugh, yknow- fair, just get it out- I promise I won't tell anyone.”

Nicole inhaled… okay, here we go. “When me and Ari started… dating–” she struggled to even get the words out. “It was like, purely for entertainment and personal benefit, but looking back on it… I put up with way more shit than I usually would. Like, what was stopping me from just getting Jeffery to do the shit she was doing for me? Waiting in line, fucking with their sense of worth? What made it feel different…?” Nicole scoffed. “I dunno… she was annoying and relied on me for everything, honestly she kinda sucked to be around— but after she broke things off, I caught myself, like… missing things.”

“Wait, are you serious?!” Jecka interjected, only to be doubly-interrupted by Nicole.

“A-And, like… sometimes when she was over it wouldn't be all bad- we actually had a little fun sometimes... I never caught myself thinking about any boys shit-eating smiles after I was done royally fucking them up, I never caught myself missing any of their awkward hugs or unprovoked kiss-attempts, but with her it was a little.. Endearing. Fuck! This must sound so stupid!”

“Well- what are the things… you missed…?” Jecka leaned in, getting invested in this tale Nicole was weaving for her.

“Just stupid stuff- like the way she smelled… or like, how nice her lips were, or just, how obsessed she was with me- it was sorta a power trip actually-...” She was getting off-topic. “She turned me into the softest bitch I know… whenever I felt bad for treating her like I did I'd always just redirect the blame- or I'd get high and forget. Whenever she gave that stupid fucking pouty look I'd fingerbang her till she was drooling, and I fucked it all up. I don't regret doing shit because I made that little thief feel bad, I regret it cuz, she made me like, kinda… happy, for a little bit, sometimes… when we were alone…” Nicole’s face was blistering at this point, what could she even say, what was more pathetic than this. “I just…” she paused.

“I miss the way she tastes…”

Ah fuck, well there it was. Nicole hadn't ever had a relationship that physical with… anyone before or after. Hell- she lost not only her virginity- but her LESBIAN virginity to that chick! That's like a whole other tier that she didn't at all expect until college. She couldn't look Jecka in the eyes, she couldn't look anyone in the eyes like this.

“When I'm not high as balls, I think a lot about Ari’s last words to me y'know, and I think she was sorta onto something there. Guys are a real turn off, but girls…? Girls make me want to fucking kill myself.” Nicole grumbled, sinking into herself, falling lower down the wall this makeshift sofa of theirs was against. Jecka was… well, she was astonished. They'd spent a full year as friends and this was her first time ever opening up about… anything! From the sounds of things, this girl wasn't even bi- Schrodinger's d-word her ass! Nicole was a flaming lesbo, clear as day… that's what it looked like to a girl liked Jecka at least. Though thinking about it all… hm.

Once more, silence. Nicole didn't dare speak after going on and on about these stupid thoughts of hers, the sort that aren't going away no matter how hard she smashes her head against a wall, no matter how many percs she pops, how much of her mom’s medication she steals and mixes into a concoction of ‘Forget-me pills’ it didn't matter. While Jecka? She was… deliberating. Nicole seemed really fucked up from all this stuff, and for good reason too. Girl got a loyal, trusting, sweet girlfriend and ended up abusing her to all hell and back. Was there any way she could make her feel better…? The springs of the bed echoed out as the blond scooted a little closer to Nicole, her body language was a lot more than closed off - shit was locked up. Still though, Jecka was supposed to be her friend, so… what was one slap in the face in the grand scheme of things, eh? Soon enough, their bare arms were touching. Ugh, this was weird for the both of them. Physical contact was not either of their fortes.

“Wow Nicole, who would’a guessed you had a heart.” She snorted, bumping shoulders with her friend.

“Let's not start saying that...” Nicole let out a breath that could faintly be called a snicker. It was weak, quiet. This felt a little weird… the brunette leaned her head back on the drywall, feeling her eyes ready to up and roll to the back of her sockets. Man, for the first time in a long time she felt a little better… I mean, not like- great, but it was definitely an improvement. Like a weight had been lifted… oh shit, did talking about this stuff actually help? The thought of that sent a shiver down the poor girl’s spine.

Hm. “Hey Nicole?” Jecka tried to get her attention, leaning down the side of Nicole till her big head of gold was resting up next to Nicole’s freckled shoulder. She was high as shit, who could blame her for anything that her innocent little brain might come up with?

“Mh?”

“Look at me for a sec.”

These two girls had done a lot of stuff the past year. Be it learn that their photography teacher is a white nationalist, nearly get some anime kid to shoot up the school only to talk him down last minute. They dated their gym teacher, spread some guy’s micropenis across the school, and that was all plenty fun on its own, but nothing the year would top this. Nicole couldn't even process it at first. The distinct taste of Cherry soda pushed up against her lips, as a hand as soft as a baby’s bare ass held her cheek close. Jecka’s whole body was leaning up against her own as she completely forced her tongue down Nicole’s throat. Salvia dripped across both of their chins before they finally closed the gap, Jecka’s free hand grabbed one of those thin straps from Nicole’s top only to pull it closer, down to her level where she felt just how hot the brunette’s face lit up. Her lip gloss was ruining Nicole’s face and sensations ran up and down through her body each moment that passed. Neither had time to think, nor process the distinct taste of smoke lingering around their gums passed the alluring flavor of their lips. Fuck- she needed to pull away soon, so why didn't she? What the fuck was Jecka even doing? She wanted to yell at her, call her a freak for this, so why didn't she? Why was Nicole letting this happen? Did she just miss this that much…? That way her breath felt sinking down her throat? That way she seized any and all motor functions from the girl the moment their mouths made contact… it could have lasted seconds, minutes, or even longer - yet by the time Nicole’s hands finally managed to move again, she didn't… Shove her off, not like what the old Nicole would do. What did she do instead? Hold the back of Jecka’s head with a golden mane flowing through her fingers. Fuck, is this what Ari felt like all the time….?

Nicole didn't want it to end, but like all good things it must. She shivered after the now messy lips of her best friend were removed from her own, goosebumps across her entire body and a gaze that begged Jessica for another taste. Her breathing was hefty and brain unresponsive. She just stared at the eyes of Jecka from above… what the fuck actually, what… the both of them had to clean around their own mouths with a tongue dripping with saliva as strands of the stuff kept them bound, connected, only breaking apart when Jecka brushed off her mouth with part of her tee.

“Are…” Nicole - for the first time in their entire friendship - seemed genuinely bewildered. She wanted to yell at her, push the bitch away and off of her. She should be… furious- I mean, she would be if anyone else did that, wouldn't she? Was Jecka actually a lesbian the whole time and she was just being Nicole’s friend to get closer to her the whole time-?! Well… no, she's not and she wasn't. That would be fucking ridiculous. “...Are you trying to FUCKING top me-?!” Nicole screamed out, face blistering red!

“No, I'm being friendly.” Jecka sarcastically responded, rolling her eyes. Nicole could hardly tell if this was the drugs bringing out the wild side in Jecka or if this is just how she really feels. An answer she may never know at this rate. “Jeez Nicole, you're so fucking stupid.” She replied smugly, licking her lips once more.

“Shut-... The fuck up.” God, she needed to smack this bitch actually.

“Still though… not bad, huh?”

“...I've had better.” Nicole lied.

“Oh yeahh?” Sarcasm was this bitch’s second name. “And lemme guess, you wanna show me how it's done, huh?” fuck sake, they were starting to sound like Jeffery’s fanfics. About them. Which exists, Jeffery wrote fanfic about them before.

Nicole moved quicker than quick, clutching the pretty pink collar of Jecka’s shirt and pulling her in close, their bodies were close enough to feel the heat on each other. Nicole pulled the entire girl up atop her own lap, leaving her to press both palms on either side of Nicole, against the wall. “Don't make it sound so fucking gay.”

“That's what's gay about this?” Jecka questioned.

Nicole only realised just now, with a girls face inches away from her own and face drenched in her love,

She very well might be a full-time lesbian

Fuck.

#class of '09 #class of 09 #Nicole #Jecka #Ari #fanfiction #fanfic #wlw #oc #oneshot

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