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magicisinbooks · 1 year ago

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Gluttony x the reporter

Kingdom of the Cursed

Whatever levity Gluttony had been feeling was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy glare. I followed the direction of his gaze, surprised to find the object of his loathing was a beautiful, prim noblewoman. Her pale blue hair was coiffed in the style of proper English ladies and her elegant dress buttoned up to her neck. She wore kidskin gloves that ended past her elbows and an expression of revulsion as she spied the host, her gaze cutting from across the room. She leaned next to her companion and whispered something that sent the other noblewoman tittering.

"If you'll excuse me." Gluttony's mood darkened further. "There's a party crasher in our midst." Without uttering another word, Gluttony strode off toward the giggling ladies.

"She's a journalist from the Shifting Isles. And she rarely has anything flattering to say about the royals in this realm. She's been particularly vicious with Gluttony." [...] She called his last gathering 'perfectly ordinary and utterly contrived. A predictable, uninspired evening.' " [...] My brother quoted it so often, it stuck. Gluttony was furious. He has since thrown the most lavish, over-the-top, debauched parties he can." "He wants her to eat her words." "Amongst other things, no doubt." I couldn't help but smile. "Hate is a powerful aphrodisiac for some."

Kingdom of the Feared

"Prince Gluttony is correct about one thing-his feast will make guests wish he'd end them all." Gluttony's easygoing smile vanished. "My dear, if my parties had the ability to kill, I'd personally deliver your invite." "That was as clever as your idea to lace wine with slumber root, promptly knocking all your guests out. At least that time it wasn't sheer boredom that put them to sleep." She gave him a cutting smile before dropping into a curtsy.

"Trust me, demons are not just asking about the curse's return. They live in fear some superior reporter with a penchant for snobbery will ruin their good time." Gluttony shooed her away, promptly earning a fierce glare.

Gluttony robbed his hands together, a devious expression falling into place. "You know? That viper gave me a great idea I think I'll offer her a glass of wine laced with slumber root and kick her and her assistant out. Then we'll see who thinks I'm unclever. At least we won't have to worry about your coronation party hitting the gossip columns."

He glanced around a crowded room, pausing on where Gluttony and the columnist stood a foot apart, not speaking.

Throne of the Fallen

Gluttony at the very least ought to know better-he was currently involved in a war with his own reporter in the Seven Circles.

Gluttony's reporter printed this just today.

Before this article was submitted to print, the ever-lacking Prince Gluttony was questioned about a guest he'd hosted the previous night, but he refuse to comment or confirm any part in the game. [...] Gluttony remained mum, hinting only that it was likely a lover sneaking out after overindulging in sin. [...] That the prince would attempt to play coy and fail spectacularly is unsurprising. Gluttony is the least clever of his brothers.

The reporter he was feuding with hadn't responded to the invitation Envy had sent, and he was sure Gluttony's foul mood had nothing to do with that.

#kingdom of the feared #kingdom of the wicked #prince gluttony #kerri maniscalco #kotf #book quotes #gluttony #kingdom of the cursed #kotw #kotc #emilia di carlo #prince sloth #prince wrath #wrath #wrath x emilia #throne of the fallen #totf spoilers

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litnerdwrites · 6 months ago

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It's finally time! @princeofsinweek 2024 is finally here! I've worked hard on these pieces and I can't wait to share them with you. As always, please be nice!

Day 1: Wrath/All is fair in love and war

Worthy - Platonic!Wrath x daughter!Reader

WC:2,253

TW: Canon typical violence, trauma from witnessing canon typical violence, description charred corpses.

Index: 'Stellina' means 'Little Star' in Italian, and is a term of endearment.

Spoilers for KOTW/ slightly for TOTF

A hand flies to your mouth, and a moment later, you’re sprinting from the bed, and into the adjacent bathroom. You barely process the burning in your knees as you fall to the tiled floor and throw your head into the toilet bowl a moment before your dinner comes back up. Strange, strangled noises escape your throat, despite how hard you try to repress them, fearing someone would come running, and tears gather, as you choke out a sob with every heaved breath.

Some logical part of your mind understands that the scent of burning flesh isn’t real. Or that you aren’t looking at the charred remains of witches, bodies moments away from turning to ash, and sockets nothing but dark, empty voids. Yet, every breath you try to take through your nose, or moment you spend with your eyes closed, has you shoving your head back into the toilet as retch until you finally throw up.

Once you feel your stomach has been emptied of its contents, you push yourself up and go about the same, mind numbing routine you endure every night in ridding the evidence of your… Condition.

Flush the toilet. Wash your hands.

Brush your teeth.

Drink water.

You barely process going through the motions, with the squeak of the tap, rushing of water, and sound of the tooth brushing against your teeth being the only markers you have to indicate time passed.

Flush. Wash. Brush. Drink. Flush. Wash. Brush. Drink. Flush. Wash. Brush. Drink. Flush. Fire. Wash. Brush. Drink. Screams. Flush wash. Brush drink. Fear. Flush wash. Brush death drink. Flush wash. Battle cries. Brush drink. Flush wash. Witches. Brush drink. Flush wash. Brush drink. Flush wash cinders brush drink. Flush wash brush death drink. Flush wash brush drink fire. Flush wash hollow brush drink. Flush wash eyes gone brush drink. Flush wash blood brush drink. Flush fire wash brush death drink. Flushfirewashbrush drink death flush drinkwash burn brush drinkdeath wash brush witches flush drinkdeath washwitchflushfire brusheyesdrinkhollow flushpainbrushdrinksblooddrinkmagicflushbloodfirescreamsscreamswashbrushdrinkeyesfiresocketsdeath-

“Y/N?”

A pained yelp escapes you, as the sudden, familiar, voice brings you back to the present, and you pull your hands from under the scalding water.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You clutch the side of the sink, heart stuttering in your chest as your eyes dart around the dimly lit bathroom. He’ll know if I’m lying. But I can’t tell him the truth… You worry at your bottom lip between your teeth.

“S-Sorry! I was careless, and touched the scalding water!” you call back, willing your voice not to tremble.

“Are you alright? Wash up quickly and come out, so I can ice the part that hurts,” Wrath calls back.

You curse yourself for forgetting about his ice magic, but realize that there’s no use arguing with him. Not when he begins fretting.

“Okay, dad,” you call back, before freshening up.

Your mind races as you clean up, trying to figure out what to say if he asks you what’s wrong. You can’t lie to him. He’ll know. He’ll know. He’ll know. He’ll know he’ll know he’ll know he’ll-

The tap turns off again, and you begin drying your hands with a towel before taking one last steadying breath. You do your best to keep your steps even as you cross your bedroom, to the antichamber, that also serves as your receiving room.

“Dad?”

Wrath’s brows furrow as he takes you in. You do your best not to stiffen under his assessing gaze.

“Let me see,” he demands, not unkindly.

You nod, taking a seat on the couch across from him and holding your hands out to him. Wrath takes them, encompassing both in his own, larger, rougher hands, as he calls just a bit of magic to cool your skin. The ice is a balm over your red hot skin. You let out a tiny sigh as your father soothes your pain, while Wrath lets his eyes soften somewhat at the sight.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

“Of course, Stellina. Just be more careful next time, alright?” You nod, and Wrath hums, focusing on your hands. Once you felt the pain subside, you let him know, and he let you go, leaning back on the upholstered chaise. “I came to let you know that we’re expecting guests,”

Your eyes widen at that. It was the middle of the night. The only guests appearing at this hour would be-

“From the Malice Isles? Didn’t they learn their lesson from last time?” You ask, groaning internally. The last thing you wanted to deal with was more blood.

Wrath chuckles at the anger he feels rising in you.

“Your Uncle Envy took it upon himself to relieve that fool of his crown, and his head while he was at it. Barely a day after I warned him to not start a war,” your father huffs.

“So it’s his successor coming to visit then. Any reason in particular?” You try to keep your voice even, trying to find a way to avoid meeting them.

“Likely to try and repair the relationship between our courts, I imagine. Either that, or-” Wrath pauses, eyes widening somewhat, before he lunges forward to grab your hands. “What happened?”

You startle, glancing down at the dry skin, littered with callouses and even tiny cuts. You freeze, unsure how to explain.

“Callouses from training,”

Wrath’s eyes snap to yours, scanning. His eyes narrow.

“Calluses don’t look this red,” Wrath scowls, “And you haven’t stepped foot in the weapons room in weeks, Y/N,”

You flinch at his harsh tone, tugging your hands back and shrinking into the couch. All you can do is stutter.

“I- I just-”

Wrath notices, and sighs, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry, my Stellina,” he whisper, and your eyes snap to his, only for him to bring a hand to rub at his temples, “I didn’t mean to snap,”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, averting your gaze, not sure what else to say.

“No, no,” Wrath assures, leaning forward again, “I just want to know what’s wrong. You haven’t been yourself recently, and your mother and I- we’ve both been getting concerned,”

Your eyes scan his, searching for any signs of lying, despite knowing it was impossible. Eventually, you came to the conclusion that trying to win a fight against the demon of war was a futile endeavor. So, you sigh, and move to sit on the chaise beside him instead.

“It’s just- It’s nightmares,” you admit.

Wrath’s eyes soften, and something like sadness, perhaps spiked with some anger, flashes in them.

“Nightmares? About what, Stellina?” he asks, but you purse your lips together. Wrath sighs, placing a gentle hand on your head, “No matter what other titles and duties I have, above all, I’m still your father. Talk to me, Stellina,” he implores.

You’re sure you’ve never heard your father speak in that tone before, and that if anyone else ever did, they’d surely not live to tell the tale.

“Do you remember when we went to House Greed, to defend it from the witches?” You ask nervously, and your father nods. You turn your head to your lap, avoiding his gaze, “And remember how you told me to stay in the guest room?”

“I do.” Even without seeing him, you can hear the way he raises his brows.

“So I sort of… didn’t do that,” you trail off. Wrath remains silent. “I also made it to the parapets in time to see what Mama did. With her magic,”

Wrath reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“And what did you think?” he asks, tone giving away nothing.

“I think… I think that I can’t forget the smell of charred flesh. I think that the sight of those dead witches bent in odd angles, like in a horror novel, or how some had empty sockets from where arrows took their eyes or when scraps of clothes melted into whatever was left of their bodies, keeps replaying in my nightmares,” you whisper.

“Y/N,” Wrath whispers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer. “I told you to stay inside for a reason.”

Though his words sound stern, there’s the unmistakable hint of sadness in them.

“I know. I should’ve listened,” you whisper back, frustration bleeding into your tone, “And now, not only can I not sleep, but I spend half the night throwing up, and questioning my place in my own home,”

“Why would this make you question your place?” Wrath asks, brows furrowed.

You whip your head up, staring at him with wide, watery eyes.

“Because I’m a princess of House Wrath who can’t even handle the tiniest bit of violence! That situation ended well because there were so few, if any, casualties on our part, so I should be overjoyed. Especially since Mama helped with that, but I’m not!” you cry, frustration building, along with your volume and heart rate, “Mama is a Goddess of Fury who did that, and you are The General of War and Justice, but I can’t even handle a single display of ruthlessness? What right do I have to call myself a demon? Much less a Demon Princess?! I have no-”

The words catch in your throat, your body feels a gentle warmth draped over it and a gentle voice cuts through your fears.

“There, there,” Wrath soothes, “Take deep breaths. In. Hold. Then out. Try it?” you do as he says. “There, that’s a good girl. Just like that, keep going,”

Once you’ve calmed down, you register the warmth all around you, and upon closer inspection, it’s made up entirely of jet black feathers. Glancing over, you see Wrath gazing at you, his expression stern, yet kind..

“None of that now.” His tone low and borderline ominous, “You are my daughter. You are Emilia’s daughter. You are a Princess of House Wrath and The Underworld, and don’t you forget it.”

“But I-”

“You are also young.” He adds, “You are a child, merely seventeen, which is nothing to an immortal. That’s why I had wanted you to stay inside, not because I knew this would happen, but because an unseasoned warrior can never be thrown head first into a battle with no training or experience,” Wrath’s tone softens as he speaks, a fondness dancing in his eyes, “There are many forms that anger and vengeance can take, and not all of them involve violence. Even if you find you have a preference for those methods, that won’t affect your standing here.You have always, and will always be my little princess,”

“What about our court? They won’t stand for signs of weakness like this,”

“Delegation is also part of leadership, Stellina. There is great strength in knowing your limits,” he assures, as he moves to gently stroke your hair, “I said something similar to your mother once, you know,”

“Wha- Really?”

“It was while you were visiting Uncle Sloth. An assassin had made an attempt on her life while she was in the bath, so she stabbed him, but found herself unable to give chase and end him herself,” He explains, “That’s why I went after him instead. He’d cut out his tongue before I was able to get information though, so I just killed him,”

“How- Why was Mama unable to go?” you ask.

“It was overwhelming, and with the spell-lock in place, it was the first time she could remember being exposed to such violence. Even after breaking the spell-lock, if you remember, her humanity and human emotions were dear to her,” he explains.

“Yeah, I guess they were,” you murmur, moreso to myself.

“If you decide that you have a limit when it comes to that, then that won’t make you any less worthy of your crown, Stellina,” He reminds, “And, if it comes down to it, your mother and I will handle those things for you. Like this meeting with the Vampire Court, for example,”

“Wha- Can you really do that? Wouldn’t it make both of us look weak if you keep doing things for me, or coming up with excuses on my behalf?”

“It’s reasonable for a princess to assign certain tasks to those around her. Remember, delegation is part of being a ruler,”

“Delegation is part of being a ruler,”

Wrath grins when he hears you say it with him and you even give him a small smile right back. Until, another thought crosses your mind.

“What about the Vampires?” you ask, the thought of meeting their delegation making you queasy, knowing what would be discussed, “I don’t- I don’t think I can-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Y/N. As I said, know your limits. If you insist on going and something happens, I could use a memory stone to wipe it from your mind, or, if you don’t wish to go, then allow me to take care of it,” he offers, “You are Princess of The Underworld, and they showed up uninvited. You need not make an appearance if you deem it beneath you,” Wrath reminds you.

“Will the vampires accept that? Will our own court accept that?”

“I’ll make them accept it,” frost began to spread from his feet and hands as he said this. The fact he hadn't encased the room was a testament to his self-control, “One way or another,”

“Isn’t that cheating?” You ask skeptically, a brow raised.

“All is fair in Love and War, Stellina. All is fair in love and war,” he responds, affectionately ruffling your hair.

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