seppfi

[pearlisedvagabond]

Two's company.

[tossawary]

One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.

Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)

Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!

SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.

Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.

Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!

I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"

[after-witch]

Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Bookworm [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito doesn't like that you have an interest in a book character.

Word count: 1787

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of other people being tortured/killed, supreme self indulgence of the highest order

“Who is the smiling man?” 

The silence that had existed between the two of you was broken by a question that made you flinch. Well, why not? Mahito has been quiet all morning--and afternoon, actually, which perhaps should have startled you more than his sudden words. 

But you were too happy to enjoy some quiet (you would never say “peace and quiet,” not down here, not with him); all too happy to curl up in your haphazard nest on the floor with some books that took  you away from this place. Away from Mahito.

Who was, of course, still here. Lounging in his hammock with a pile of books sagging down the netting. 

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was reading from down here--you probably needed new glasses, a subject you were certainly not going to bring up with Mahito, who might reiterate his offer to “fix” your eyes. It looked like a bundle of pages stapled together. Maybe he went to the library and printed off obscure articles to read again. 

“Hey,” he calls down, and the first hint of worry begins to prickle on your arms at his uncharacteristically serious tone, “Answer me.”

Your mind stutters, tries to put one word in front of the other, and make sense of it all. 

The smiling man? The smiling man, the… ah. From Small Spaces. The otherworldly supernatural entity who lives in a world behind mist and has a penchant for making deals with people for their greatest wishes. 

It’s not your fault that you haven’t thought about him in ages. It’s not like you had copies of your books with you, and the fun you had with imagining him in an endless number of scenarios had fallen by the wayside considering your circumstances. 

It’s hard to daydream about worlds behind mist and cornfield servants when you’re watching people be turned into grotesque experiments that had them, sometimes quite literally and loudly, begging for death.

Mahito is looking down at you now, staring expectantly. 

“He’s a character,” you say, fidgeting on the floor. “From a book series.” You look down, flip a page in your book, although you haven’t finished reading the last one, and ask, casually as you can muster: “Why?”

Mahito, up above, flips a page. You can hear the wobble in the paper--not a bound book, that’s for certain. And there’s some low, primal sense that shivers through you which says, plainly, that he’s actually reading whatever’s in front of him. 

“You write about him a lot.”

Oh.

Low, slimy dread filters into your stomach. Thick and gelatinous, resting at the bottom of your belly like an unwanted slug. 

“I… don’t know what you mean,” you say, voice only half-there, because while you are apparently stupid enough to lie to Mahito’s face, you’re not stupid enough to think he’ll believe you. 

You are just stupid enough to think that he won’t know exactly how deep your interest in this particular character goes; before Mahito took you, you thought about him all the time. You’d take walks and daydream about him, write story after story; you’d even commissioned fanart of him, because it wasn’t like there was a plethora of fanart for a character from a middle grade horror book. 

Mahito huffs out a sigh. Quick and short, it sends a shock right down your stomach. 

“Get you a man,” he starts, and confusion buzzes through your brain until he continues. “Who is an otherworldly entity that is so petty when an 11 year old beats him that he traps her in another world, leaving her to a fate worse than death, and laughs until he cries about it.”

You wrote that. There’s a vague memory of when you posted it--after you’d taken a walk, you think, and reread your favorite parts in the books for a few hours. But the way Mahito says it makes it sound--you don’t know how to explain it. Like saying the words out loud almost pains him; they come out clipped and bitter. 

Bitter? But why?

He doesn’t stop there. He reads something else, voice getting higher, almost mocking the way you talk. And that bitterness is still there, a thread continuing through every syllable.

“What if we kissed in the corn maze before you turned me into a scarecrow servant whose soul slowly gets dried out and useless and in the end you feed it, crunchy and tasteless, to your hellhound.” 

He takes a breath. Then--

“One particular aspect of the Smiling Man’s cruelty that I truly adore is that he can make people feel understood. He can make them feel like he cares, like he’s lending a listening ear, like he’s wanting to help them out and make them feel nice.”

Another breath--and he continues, again and again, reading your posts. Quoting your stories. Listing off the titles, the imagine posts, everything you’ve said about him.

All the while, bitter and mocking, his voice raising now and then in an imitation of your own. 

Then he gets to the last page of his clearly self-created tome and stares down at you, waiting, expectant. 

And you… you actually glare up at him. 

Because you're scared, sure. You’re always scared in some way, when you’re with Mahito. But there’s something else too, something that digs its way out of the rot in your gut and sticks up a petulant middle finger.

How dare he do this. How dare he take something that was yours and make it his; put it in his mouth and sneer over it. 

“Have you been--” Your mouth sticks together, refusing to let you accuse him of what you know he’s been doing. Stalking your online profiles. “That’s… that’s private,” is what you finally mutter, cheeks feeling hot and that half-buried petulance pushing you forward. “It’s not any of your business.” 

“Private?” He mutters the word softly, cradling the sound.

And then--

Mahito doesn’t often move fast around you. He prefers to be slow, languid. Calculating. You think it’s because that terrifies you more.

But now, in a moment, he goes from being slouched in his hammock to leaping down and crouching right in your face--there’s sudden pain in your head, and you realize he’s grabbed your hair and yanked it back.

That metaphorical middle finger sinks back down into the slimy gut sludge.

“Not from me,” he says, low, a warning. “Not for you.”

This is all it takes for tears to prick inside your eyes.

Mahito’s lips quirk up. Just a little. Just enough for you to notice.

“You’re going to cry already? I didn’t even do anything.”

Your eyes dart up and back, towards where he’s currently gripping your hair hard enough for it to sting.

He sighs through his nose. “This isn’t anything. You know that. Don’t be childish now.”

But--he lets go of your hair, and doesn’t grab for you when you scoot backwards on your blanket nest. Instead, he plops himself down, crossing his legs and resting his chin on his elbow.

You don’t speak. You don’t want to, and you don’t know what to say. Sometimes it’s better to be quiet around Mahito, so he doesn’t get ideas. Although he comes up with them on his own just fine, even if you try to stay silent.

It’s Mahito who breaks the silence.

“Why do you like him so much?”

How silly, to feel embarrassed right now. With the creature in front of you, and what he can do. But that’s what makes your cheeks burn: embarrassment. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble, because while you are stupid in so many ways, you’re still smart enough to know he wants an answer. “I guess I just like antagonist characters sometimes.” Well, most of the time. But it’s better to keep that from Mahito, if you can.

Mahito’s lips quirk here and there while he thinks. Then he looks at you with something like genuine confusion.

“You say that you like how awful he is. The awful things he does. So…” He tilts his head a little. “You should like me. Right?”

Your fingers pick at the loose threads of your clothes. Your eyes don’t meet his entirely--they flick up and down, from your legs to his face. 

“It’s not the same thing,” is what you come up with. But how to explain that to a curse?

Mahito frowns. 

“I don’t understand.” No bitterness, no pouting. A simple statement of fact.

“He’s not real.” You swallow against the minefield that all of this is making you step through, hoping you’ll avoid them. “But you are. That makes it different.” 

Mahito leans forward, grabbing your wrists, pulling you closer to him with a yanking, childish gesture.

“So you should like me more,” he says, a slight pout in his tone. “Because I can really do those things.” His eyebrows raise, and you swear you can hear a buzzing light bulb go off. “I could turn someone into a scarecrow for you.” He smiles, sudden, excited. “Do you want me to find some school children to torment?”

“No!” Your voice cracks. There are brief images in your mind--the people he’s tortured and killed, experimented with, before you were here and while you’re here and probably after you’re dead and gone--and you shake them away. 

Mahito’s eyebrows furrow. He groans and rolls his eyes backwards until they are entirely white, not in mockery or an attempt to scare you, but in irritation. Fingers squeeze your wrists briefly and let go, and you stay quiet, trying to fight your urge to cry, until Mahito slowly rolls his eyes back to stare at you.

His gaze flicks over you, until he catches your eyes with his. 

“You won’t write about him anymore.”

You don’t take a moment to answer this time.

“I won’t.”

“You won’t read those books anymore.”

“I won’t,” you stay. “I haven’t. I--don’t even have copies anymore.”

Mahito smiles, a little. Maybe it’s a good thing you never asked him to find you a copy, a thought which had been a brief temptation a while back.

And then he leans in closer again, until his nose touches yours.

“You won’t think about him anymore,” he says, quiet, solemn. Not an order but a matter of fact. 

You don’t answer. You swallow against a bitter taste in  your throat; you swear, sometimes, that the sludge in your gut is real and tries to make its way out sometimes.

Mahito presses his nose against yours until it starts to hurt.

“You won’t,” he says again, this time more to himself. “I’ll make sure of it.”

[flowerandblood]

To please, to serve (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, oral sex, smut, fingering, the angst, degradation, role play, dirty talk ]

[ description: During a meeting of the Small Council, Aemond learns that his wife is feeling unwell. Fearing that these are symptoms of another pregnancy, he abandons his daily routine and visits her in their chamber. To his surprise, he does not find her there, but someone else. Sexual tension, dark, loving, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. This oneshot takes place several years after the events of that storyline and can be read as a standalone story. I just came up with this idea and decided that's it, I have to write it. Ehhhhh.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

"Where is the Queen Regent?" He asked impatiently, surprised that, although it was not her custom, she was late for the Small Council meeting. One of the guards bowed his head and shifted from foot to foot.

"The Queen Regent requests that the meeting be held without her today, as she has been feeling unwell, Your Grace." He said.

He pressed his lips together at his words, driving his fingernail into the skin of his second finger at the thought that his wife was perhaps expecting his child again.

Seventh, he thought in disbelief, staring dully ahead.

That would be the seventh.

As many as she had promised him.

And what would happen next?

He tried to focus on the meeting and what each person was saying, however, he knew that he was involuntarily pushing for it to end as soon as possible.

Once everything was settled, he approached the Grand Maester, wanting to know what the situation was.

"Do you know anything about my wife's condition?" He asked coolly, frustrated by the possibility that he might have withheld such important information from him for some reason.

The man shook his head.

"No, Your Grace. I am surprised myself. The Queen Regent has not summoned me, so it is possible that her frail condition is due to some other cause." He said, making him feel discomfort in his stomach.

Although he always took part in sparring after the meeting, wishing to remain as skilled and agile in sword fight as he had been in all the years he had been king by his wife's side, this time he headed for their chamber.

When he stepped inside, he did not see her where he expected her to be, which was in their bed. He looked around the room, tense, the servant standing next to him bowed humbly.

"Where is my wife?" He asked, approaching the window overlooking the courtyard, thinking he might perhaps catch a glimpse of her walking between the cloisters.

"The Queen has left, Your Grace." The girl answered him. He furrowed his brow as her voice seemed familiar to him, but he wasn't sure why.

"Where to?" He asked, walking over to his desk to pour himself some wine and quench his thirst.

"She didn't say, Your Grace."

"You may leave." He replied, taking a few deep sips from his goblet deciding that she was probably hiding in the library for some reason. He set his goblet aside, impatient to hear that the girl had not moved from her place.

"Did I express myself unclearly?" He asked, turning to face her and froze, unsure if he had seen correctly or if he was slowly beginning to slip into madness from exhaustion.

The girl standing on the other side of his chamber looked at him before their gazes met, however, she lowered her eyes meekly to the floor when she sensed his surprise and frustration.

She had his wife's face, his wife's figure, his wife's voice but she wasn't dressed like her – her hair was pinned up in a braid around her head, her attire simple, consisting of a long-sleeved red bottom garment and a linen top gown belted at the waist.

"What?" He asked more to himself than to her, looking at her with wide eye.

"The Queen is not here, Your Grace." She said, looking at him again, something in her gaze from which he felt heat in his lower abdomen.

Her gaze was bright, piercing, familiar, but terrified at the same time.

Was it possible that a woman so confusingly similar to his wife had served in the Red Keep?

He swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in his throat, so he reached for his cup again and took a sip from it, looking at her intently.

"Have you been serving here for long?"

"For a few days."

"Mmm."

Perhaps that's why she doesn't know all the rules of good manners yet, he thought.

"If I say you may leave, then you are expected to leave."

She lowered her gaze and did something that betrayed her: her hands entwined with each other as she began to play with her fingers in a gesture of discomfort that he knew all too well.

Fuck.

It was her.

"The whole kingdom speaks of the affection you have for her, Your Grace. About the fact that she has already given you six children, although she is still so young. Perhaps she should rest from this duty." She whispered, looking down at her hands, not daring to look at him.

He pressed his lips together, wondering if she was implying something.

Was she tired of him and carrying his offspring in her womb.

"I could have your head for this insolence." He said, intrigued by what she was trying to achieve, what her plan was.

"You could have something else. While she rests." She confessed finally, the gaze of her bright eyes surrounded by dark lashes lifted to him.

He felt a shudder at her words, at the realisation of what she was suggesting, what she was aiming for, and his cock expressed a desire to participate in her idea, pulsing greedily in his breeches.

"Indeed?" He murmured, raising his cup to his lips, sipping the remainder of the wine from it, not taking his eye off her with a mischievous look.

She did not reply, standing still, her lips parted in an accelerated breath betraying that she was aroused.

"Very well. Come here." He said, stepping around his desks and spreading out comfortably in his chair, looking up at her from below. He set his cup down on the table as she approached him slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Kneel." He ordered.

She swallowed loudly and obediently sat on her knees between his legs, not daring to look at his face. He licked his lower lip involuntarily as he undid the buckles of his tunic with his long fingers, only to immediately slide them down to the fabric of his breeches, untying them with an agile flick of his wrist.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking I'll treat you like my wife. You don't deserve it." He scoffed in a trembling voice, feeling the chill of the chamber envelope his swollen erection, leaking with desire. Her gaze lifted to his manhood as she nodded, moving closer, the look of her innocent eyes rising to his face in anticipation.

"Open." He said, grabbing the base of his swollen cock, directing the throbbing, pink, wet head of it to her face.

Her lips parted in an obedient gesture as she leaned forward, her hands clenched on her lap. He tilted his head back, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart as her puffy lips slid its tip into her warm interior, her tongue giving him one encouraging, gentle lick.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, clamping his free hand in her hair, forcing her to take it all the way in, the head of his manhood bumping against the back of her throat with her quiet moan of discomfort.

She knew him too well, knew what drove him mad, what touch and where drove him to the brink of insanity.

"– quiet – you wanted it yourself – now suck like a good girl –" He gasped, watching with a wide grin as the fullest part of his manhood disappeared again and again deep between her lips with the quiet clicks of her saliva.

He squeezed himself tighter at the base, trying to find a rhythm with her, involuntarily rolling his hips back and forth, each time making her almost choke, tears of exertion running down her face one after the other.

"– only my wife deserves to swallow my seed – maybe I should come on your face? – hm? – would you enjoy that? –" He sneered, and she shook her head quickly and cried out, looking up at him with big eyes full of tears, whimpering as he quickened his pace suddenly, disappearing again and again deep into her throat.

Her beautiful face was all rosy with exertion, droplets of sweat on her cheeks and forehead, unruly strands of her dark hair stuck to her skin.

So pretty.

"– no? – then how about your tits – show me your breasts –" He exhaled, sliding out from between her lips to avoid coming too soon, taking a surprising amount of pleasure from this unusual act of their marital intimacy.

His wife drew in a loud breath, wiping her cheeks wet with tears, and reached up to untie her dress at the back, blindly undoing it. She looked at him with a look he knew perfectly well when she finally slipped the bright and red material off, showing him one of his favourite parts of her body.

She was so fucking wet, he knew it.

"– go on – I didn't let you stop –" He said coldly, and she leaned over him again, taking his fat erection between her lips with such commitment that he groaned, biting his lower lip so hard that he could feel the blood under his tongue.

"– good girl – just like that – fucking serve your King –" He growled, clenching his fingers in her hair, allowing her small hand to caress what was not fitting deep in her throat imposing a fierce, aggressive pace on her. She cried out loudly, clearly not able to keep up with taking a breath, making him stop in half-motion.

"– too much? –" He mumbled, stepping out of his role for a moment, but she shook her head, looking at him with affection.

He stroked her hair, his fingers sliding down to her face, his thumb running over the hot, moist skin of her cheek – her murmur of satisfaction ran in vibration through his erection, making him pulse hard between her lips.

"– just a little more – your King is satisfied and about to come – hm? –" He cooed, and she nodded, letting him do what he wanted with her mouth, thrusting his long manhood into her again and again with the greedy, deep stabs of his hips.

The warmth of her mouth, her tongue that ran over the soft skin of his erection swollen from his veins, her lips that clamped again and again on the thick head of it made him close his eyes, losing the urge to pull it out of her.

"– I changed my – f-fuck – fuck, gods, swallow –" He gasped out, panting heavily with pleasure, tilting his head back, feeling his cock begin to throb all over in elation, his wife whimpered when suddenly his spend spilled deep down her throat.

He looked at her with dreamy eyes, breathing through his parted lips, stroking her head, listening to the quiet sound of swallowing.

"– that's it – easy – you did well –" He praised her, and she took a heavy breath as he finally let her go, sliding his erection out from between her sweet lips with a loud slap.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his thigh, embracing it with her arms, trying to calm down after what she had done. His fingers roamed through her hair, his gaze fixed on her full of curiosity.

"– come here –" He murmured.

She looked at him sleepily and lifted herself up on trembling legs, however, to her surprise, he didn't let her sit on top of him with her arms around him, but turned her so that she was resting her back against his chest.

They both sighed, and her legs spread involuntarily to the sides as his broad hand rolled up the material of her gown, exposing her thighs, slipping under her smallclothes. While there his fingers sank into her silky, leaking folds, the fingers of his other hand embraced her neck, making her moan softly, tilting her head back.

"– only my wife deserves to be fulfilled – so how will it be? –" He whispered in her ear, placing hot, loud, sticky kisses on her red, welted sweaty cheek – her hand involuntarily wrapped around his arm while the other reached back into his hair for balance.

"– please, my King –" She mumbled pleadingly.

"– tsk-tsk – not like that –" He gasped, teasing her little spongy bud with his fingertip, playing with it gently, his other fingers trailing over her throbbing, moist slit.

"– ah – gods – Aemond –" She sighed, bucking her hips to the rhythm of his strokes, his fingers clenching warningly around her neck.

"– call me right or I'll tease this little cunt all night long, but you won't experience fulfillment, sweet girl –" He said warningly and felt her swallow loudly under his fingers, his hand between her thighs all slick with her sticky wetness.

"– husband – please, husband, please, please, please – ah! –" She mewled, clenching her hand in his hair as his two fingers burst into her hot, fleshy interior, pressing the spot hidden between her muscles from which she could see stars, while his thumb teased her pearl from the outside in circular, gentle strokes.

"– good girl – fuck yourself with my fingers – only my wife can use me for her own pleasure –" He gasped, watching with satisfaction as with a cry of pleasure she fell apart in front of him, reaching her peak – his hand from her neck clamped down on her breast, all swollen with milk, feeling her weeping cunt squeeze his fingers again and again, sucking them inside.

His once again hard erection pushed against her buttocks, delighted by what he had just witnessed.

Her hands closed around his, making sure he didn't let go of either her hot, leaking womanhood or her soft, plump breast.

"– what unusual idea did you come up with, hm? – is that the reason for your non-attendance at the Small Council? –" He sneered, placing tender, lazy, sticky kisses on her neck and cheek.

"– I've been thinking about it for a while – what it would feel like – and have you ever had fantasies of doing this to a servant –" She muttered, breathing heavily through her mouth, looking at him curiously.

He snorted under his breath and shook his head, sighing contentedly, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with her.

"– I didn't feel the need for it until it turned out that you could be one – I'm afraid it's not a question of role but of your pretty face – those big eyes of yours –" He murmured, grabbing her chin, turning her head so that she could look at him. She giggled sweetly at his words, her eyes lit up with joy and warmth from which he felt heat in his chest, a feeling he only experienced in her presence.

He hummed under his breath, pressing his forehead against hers, smiling in a way that was meant only for her.

For his wife.

"– if you wish, we can satisfy each other in this way, if you need to rest for a time from bearing me children – you have given me as many as six –" He said softly, wanting her to know that her sacrifice for their lineage, for the kingdom and for him was precious to him, and he held his gratitude for her deep in his heart.

She blinked and smiled comfortingly at his words, her fingers running over his cheek.

"– since Daeron was born, the deliveries have become easier for me – they're shorter each time, I already know exactly what awaits me – I promised you one more, didn't I? –" She whispered, and he nodded.

"– and then? –"

"– hm? –"

"– when you give birth to our seventh child – what will happen after that? –" He asked, and she amazed him by bursting out laughing.

"– it will be surely followed by another – as long as my flower does not wither –" She said, resting her head on his shoulder. He put his hands around her breasts, not wanting her to get cold, thoughtful.

"– our children already think there are too many of them –" He sighed and heard her snort at his words, amused.

"– they will be able to speak on the matter when they become parents themselves –" She replied, looking up at him, placing her hands on his. He kissed her temple and nuzzled his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, imagining how many more children she would bear him.

"– let's take a bath, wife –"

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part 3

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: mentions of killing/death, naked concubines (man and woman), threats via penis manhandling

A/N: I have a vague idea of where I’d like the story to go because I love the fun in discovering different things when writing on a loose plan. This chapter ended up longer than I thought it would be but Feyd is just so damn fun to write😂

You tried not to linger on the implications of your shared quarters.

Angrily you strode after Feyd-Rautha. “What is going to become of my parents?”

“I don’t care.”

You wanted to grab his arm and spin him around, force him to face you. But you were afraid of touching him again, afraid that any little contact would result in an even trade — and you did not want to confront the flicker of attraction you felt when the Harkonnen dragged his lips across your skin. A second reaction would be indicative of something more, and you were determined not to let another scenario arise to find out.

The best you could do was stomp after him. “Well, I do.”

“Nothing will happen.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just am.”

You mull over this response. Would he tell you differently? You sensed that Feyd-Rautha tended to be brutally honest. Probably because he never had to deal with any consequences in his life. How could he, as na-Baron?

You fail to think of anything else to say and lapse into silence, trusting that he is telling the truth and your parents will be fine. Besides, you comfort yourself, the Emperor would be furious if the Harkonnens just slaughtered one of the other Noble Houses like that. There were laws in place to discourage such atrocities.

Feyd-Rautha continues his unofficial tour, winding through a complicated series of interweaving corridors without speaking. You see several servants along the way, all who keep a cautious distance from you both. You couldn't ignore their curious looks. How strange you felt among them - pale and unblemished like stones smoothed over by a river's constant force. It didn't aid in your comfort.

"Do you not know any of them?" You ask. Feyd-Rautha is anything but a pleasant conversational partner, but at least if you're talking you don't have to listen to your rampant thoughts.

"Who?"

"The servants," you reply, brow furrowing.

He grunts in a noncommittal fashion. "Why would I?"

"Because they work for you." You were on friendly terms with the staff back on Caladan and trying to befriend the Fremen employed to you on Arrakis. The natives were untrusting of you, rightfully so. But you couldn't imagine just ignoring them.

"They're disposable," Feyd-Rautha comments with a wave of his hand. A pair of servants scurry by.

You watch them turn the corner and vanish. "They're afraid of you."

"Hm."

"Am I?"

"Are you what?"

"Disposable."

He casts you a sideways look. "Everyone is disposable once their use has expired. Thus is the way of the Harkonnen."

You contemplate this, frowning. "Even you?"

A dry, brittle laugh erupts from him.

"Are you planning on killing me already, wife? Perhaps you'll adapt just fine here."

That wasn't the compliment he thought it was.

You pointedly ignore him. "Are you telling me that there's not a moment that would make you disposable like the rest of us?"

"There is," he says, seemingly unbothered by the threat of his mortality, unlike you. "My uncle has promised the Baronship to me. If I am an unfit ruler then I would be challenged. Thus is the —"

"— way of the Harkonnen," you finish.

Feyd-Rautha flashes you a smile as sharp as the blade of a dagger. "You are quicker than you look."

"But what of the Noble Houses? The Emperor?"

Feyd-Rautha lifts a shoulder. "House Harkonnen has proved powerful for many, many generations. No one dares challenge us. Nor will they," he adds thoughtfully. He pauses. "Do you fret for our children?"

You inhale sharply, swallowing, and it sticks in your throat. You cough out an unconvincing, "I'm fine!" then set to composing yourself, confident that your sanity would be doubted by anyone who happened by. What a way to be viewed by your subjects. Feyd-Rautha just stares at you in poorly veiled amusement.

"I try not to think of our children," you say after you're sure you're done coughing. Something akin to embarrassment burns you skin.

"Pity," Feyd-Rautha says. "These are our quarters."

Feyd-Rautha's quarters are much more grand than your room on Arrakis. He leads you into an antechamber with a skylight, pouring the strange light from the black sun into the space. There's a sunken level in the floor furnished with dark colored furniture — two love seats and a sofa. A handful of glowglobes float aimlessly by.

Feyd-Rautha crosses the room, forgoing the sunken level, to the other side of the antechamber. You have no choice but to follow.

You don't know what you expected from his — your — room. Perhaps a chamber of torture. But it's not the sleek, elegant display before you, a full sized bed with plush bedding and tasteful curtains covering a bank of floor-length windows. It's impeccably neat.

And, to your abject horror, features three naked figures sprawled out on various surfaces. Two women and one man.

Feyd-Rautha ignores them, even as they slink from their positions to greet him, bodies slender and completely hairless, free of any visible blemishes. You feign an interest in the ceiling. It's not that you're naive to nudity or sexuality, but the sudden exposure to it roots you in your place.

"Do you need an invitation?" Feyd-Rautha asks.

When you force your gaze from the ceiling, you find him settled casually in a chair with a low-slung back, the two women kneeling on either side of him and the man behind. You follow their hands as they wander his body.

"No. No."

Where are you supposed to go? If he believes you will worship him like the others than he's sorely mistaken. You walk to the bed, ghosting your fingers over the bedding and confirming its softness. You hate the way that you can feel him watching you, clearly amused by your discomfort; you rally your courage to meet his stare, refusing to acknowledge the naked bodies draped across him.

"Are you quite alright, wife?"

"Fine," you grit out. "I didn't realize we would have company."

"Would you like me to tell them to leave?"

A loaded question, one that you were aware would set the tone for the rest of your life with Feyd-Rautha. A challenge. You control the slight quiver in your voice, "Leave. I wish to be alone with my...husband."

The concubines hesitate, obviously waiting to hear from Feyd-Rautha. He continues to hold your gaze. "Leave."

Uncurling themselves from around him, the women and the man are all white limbs and smooth skin, a multi-limbed creature. Whether or not they are disappointed by this development, they don't reveal, simply sauntering out of the room to wherever they go when they aren't waiting naked for Feyd-Rautha. A feeling of annoyance stirs.

"There's no need to be jealous," Feyd-Rautha says as the door closes.

You bristle. "I'm not."

“Then come here, wife.” Feyd-Rautha spreads his legs, indicating his lap and his powerful thighs. You resent yourself for noticing. “If you dismiss my concubines, then you must come to me now and offer me your warmth instead.”

Another challenge. You wonder briefly if he is playing with you, testing your boundaries, but just as you refused to show weakness in the throne room, you refuse now, crossing the carpeted floor. A surge of bravery — or maybe stupidity — prompts you to wedge your knees on either side of his waist, straddling him, the skirt of your dress hitched up to ensure mobility.

The look on his face is worth the cost of the heat reigniting in the pit of your stomach. You chase it away in pursuit of the heady high you receive from asserting your dominance. He might’ve had the upper hand but you were in control now.

“Warm enough?” You ask him innocently.

“Not quite,” he replies. He’s tipped his head back to examine you, leaving a blazing trail where his gaze goes.

Brazen beyond you imagination, you work the buckle to his pants just enough to slip your hand inside and grab his cock.

That bastard. He was already hard. Not fully erect, you observed with conflicting feelings, but clearly you had your effects on him. Feyd-Rautha showed no shame or guilt about this, however. Like it was expected — normal for women he’s just met to reach into his pants.

And it probably was.

Injured hand screaming in defiance of your actions, you grab the head of his cock and twist, slightly backwards and to the side. You apply pressure, hopefully enough to hurt him, he wouldn’t dare reveal it to you anyway.

“Do not,” you hiss, “embarrass me like that ever again. I will not tolerate looking like a fool.”

Feyd-Rautha’s throat bobs. Except instead of agony he looks totally enthralled. “Or what?” He mocks. “You’ll wrap your pretty hand around my cock?”

“You won’t have a cock for anyone to wrap their hand around.”

“Is that a promise?”

You release him and climb off his lap, figuring it would be more impactful to leave him wanting then lustful. His utter indifference, his arousal, gives you pause to just who you’ve been arranged to marry.

“You disgust me,” you spit out.

Feyd-Rautha’s mouth twitches slightly. Did he really have to find everything funny?

He says, “We’ll see.”

A month passes at Giedi Prime in a disconcerting blur. To your surprise, besides the first afternoon, you hardly ever see Feyd-Rautha. Always busy with important meetings or sparring sessions. Or whatever he did in his spare time. You didn’t ask.

Ever since that day when you’d straddled his lap, you’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had said clearly that you were even after the slap but then you’d unexpectedly turned the tables — did he intend on returning the favor?

You informed him that you would sleep on the couch in the antechamber until your wedding, to which he never remarked upon. That first night you lay awake, afraid and absolutely convinced that he would try something. But he never came.

The days passed without event and your anxiety dwindled. Besides, while Feyd-Rautha was busy with na-Baron affairs, you were forced to schlep through a mountain of preparations for the wedding ceremony. You didn’t care, frankly. You chose the first sample of whatever you were offered — tablecloths, menu items, decorations — until one of the servants accompanying you threw down the sample booklet and scowled.

“This will be the most horrendous wedding in the history of the galaxy,” the servant said in exasperation. “And all of them are too afraid of your husband to say anything.”

You had raised a brow, secretly thrilled by this confrontation. At least it broke the monotony of your life here thus far.

“Do you question my taste?”

The servant glared at you. “What taste?”

A moment passed. The other servants stared in horror, undoubtedly convinced that their demise was imminent. Perhaps that was one benefit to being betrothed to the na-Baron. He wielded a certain type of power.

You busted out laughing. In fact, you laughed so hard that tears stream down your face.

“You’re right,” you said, laughter weakening into an uncontrollable giggle. “It will be a horrendous wedding, but that has nothing to do with the decorations. Will you help me?”

The servant’s name is Asha, and in her you found a companion. She chased away the other servants that day and set to work rectifying your wedding decisions, weighing in on current trends on the planet and admonishing you for your Caladan tastes. “Absolutely not,” she deadpanned when you inquired about floral bouquets.

Out of everyone on Giedi Prime — well, really just the Harkonnen fortress, as you weren’t permitted to leave — Asha became your friend. No one else bothered or cared to talk to you, and now that you had bonded over wedding preparations, you spent infinite amounts of time together strolling the halls arm-in-arm and whispering about servant gossip since you had nothing to contribute.

Asha made your miserable new life interesting.

“Are you scared?” She asks you one day, plucking at your eyebrows.

You outright refused to shave them off in order to conform to the hairless style of the Harkonnens, but regrettably agreed to a touch-up. You kept one eye on a nearby mirror just in case she got any ideas.

“Of what?”

Asha yanks at an eyebrow hair, and you cry out in surprise. “Oh, stop, you’re fine — I mean are you scared of Feyd-Rautha?”

“No. Why would I be?” You avert your eyes from her probing stare. Asha, unfortunately, is able to read your expressions better than a trained Bene Gesserit. You learned that this stemmed from the combat trainings that all young children received on this planet.

“Because,” Asha stresses. You frown when she fails to elaborate, and your friend issues a long-suffering sigh. “I’ve heard things about him, you know, in bed.”

“Oh.” You twist your hands in your lap. “What kinds of things?”

Asha grins triumphantly. “I knew you were scared!”

You laugh and shove away her hands as she playfully jabs at your sides. “I’m not scared,” you say, fending her off. “I’m just curious. Aren’t all brides?”

“Just you. We aren’t all Noble daughters with arranged marriages. We fuck —”

“I get it,” you interrupt. “Consider yourself lucky.”

You’re about to prompt her again about the things she’s heard when there’s a light rap of knuckles on the door. Asha shoots to her feet. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes — of course she’s respectful to Feyd-Rautha but not you. But you supposed it was the basis of your only friendship, so you couldn’t exactly complain.

“You’re back,” you say, standing up slowly.

Feyd-Rautha rests, hip and elbow, against the doorframe into the antechamber. He hungrily drinks you in.

“Indeed,” Feyd-Rautha replies. Last you’d heard of him he had left for an offworld obligation without saying goodbye. Something stirs in you at the sight of him after so long.

“I hope your trip was well.”

Feyd-Rautha scans the room before his gaze returns to you. “I would prefer to be here. The Baron seems determined to keep me occupied until the ceremony.”

Did you detect a trace of resentment in his words? And why would the Baron keep him from you? The heir wouldn’t exactly conceive itself; though he would have no way of knowing that you had been sleeping on the couch all this time.

“Retrieve the present I’ve brought back for my wife,” Feyd-Rautha suddenly instructs Asha. She secretly meets your eyes before dashing away.

You fold your arms over your chest. “A present? And I thought you’d forgotten I existed.”

If he picks up on your anger, he doesn’t show it. Feyd-Rautha crosses the room to you, replaces Asha in the chair across from you.

“It’s for tonight. The Baron has requested our attendance for dinner.”

You bristle slightly. “The Baron? Tonight?”

You had been exceedingly lucky to avoid the monstrous head of House since your arrival. But perhaps it was because you ran the other direction at the mention of his name, or the fact that you hadn’t strayed from your quarters.

“Yes. You needed something…acceptable to wear.”

“My clothes aren’t acceptable?”

“Yes,” he answers. “I have no doubt that my uncle has planned something magnificent for tonight. You will need to look the part.”

Your careful, fragile existence on Giedi Prime was crashing at your feet. From wiling away the hours to suddenly being thrust into the explosive political landscape that was House Harkonnen.

But no matter. Jessica had raised you for this very purpose.

“Fine,” you agreed coolly.

Both of you turn as Asha returns from her errand, a garment bag folded over her arm. She goes to deliver it to your closet but Feyd-Rautha halts her in her tracks. “I want her to open it here.”

Part 4

Tags:

@moonsoulk

@heartarianagran

@torchbearerkyle

@unicoreads

@taleah

@mamawiggers1980

[hallowpen]

This series continues to be a love letter to Thai tradition. It makes me sooo happy to get to share these cultural insights with you guys through watching Girl's Love media. We've come so far 😭😭😭

So... This episode didn't really highlight any traditional Thai dishes, but in keeping with last week's edition, I want to at least mention two that stood out:

ช่อม่วง (pronounced 'chor muang') are flower dumplings that were to be considered part of royal Thai cuisine. The dumplings are filled with a sweet and salty pork mixed with roasted peanuts. They are wrapped in a purple dough that gets its coloring from being dyed by butterfly pea flowers steeped in water with lime juice. (Any fellow UWMAers will recognize this dish, as the process of how to make them were included in that series)

สละลอยแก้ว (pronounced 'sala loy kaew') is another version of the dessert we discussed last week. It is made by having Salak fruit 'floating' in iced sugared syrup. Salak is a fruit native to Southeast Asia (specifically Indonesia). The Thai variety have more flesh with a uniquely sweet and slightly sour taste.

ยิงปืนกันกล้วย (pronounced 'ying peun gahn gluay') is a traditional children's game typically played amongst young boys. It is a game where children "shoot" at each other with an imaginary rifle that is made from banana stalks. They swipe one hand quickly along the banana stalk, and the following impact causes the upright parts of the stem ("the ammo") to loudly "snap"... a sound similar to that of a gunshot. The banana rifles are called ปืนของกล้วย (pronounced 'peun gahn gluay') hence the name of the game... and the "horses", which are also made from banana stalks, are called ม้าของกล้วย (pronounced 'ma gahn gluay').

ลอยกระทง - Thailand's Loy Krathong Festival is probably something viewers are already familiar with if they've watched other Thai dramas. It is a Thai tradition that takes place on the night of the full moon during the 12th lunar month. "Krathongs", which can be translated as 'ritual lantern vessels', are made from natural materials including banana leaves and flowers. They are often formed in the shape of a lotus to symbolize rebirth, strength, and resilience. For Anil and Pin it is a gesture to make merit, while simultaneously wishing for each other’s happiness and good fortune. It is representative of their hope for only good blessings to come into their lives while they are apart.

In more modern tradition, there are also certain romantic undertones revolving around the Loy Krathong Festival. It is said that any couple who float a Krathong together, will be bound together for life.

Aside from these cultural aspects, there are a few other instances I want to note.

I loved seeing the juxtaposition of Anil knowing and actively wanting to pursue a romantic relationship with Pin... and Pin only just coming to the realization that, maybe, her fond affection for Anil actually runs a lot deeper. I also want to point out, that Prik's participation in facilitating their romantic relationship is incredibly risky. As a low-ranking servant of the palace, she stands to receive the harshest punishment for 'breaking convention'. Which brings me to this scene:

There are so many social class dynamics happening in just this one scene alone. Pin cannot afford to be rude to a higher ranking official by saying, upfront, she does not wish for him to pursue her. Prik is being used as a shield to protect Pin from Kuea's advances. And Kuea, as a friend of Prince Anon AND who holds title himself, is blissfully unaware that his presence is completely unwelcome... because who, in their right mind, could ever want to turn away a person of his fortune and stature? Aaahhh, it's just such a brilliant scene!!!

[aquasarsstuff]

Arranged Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge part. 1, part. 2, part 3

Tags: Lilia calls you sweetcheeks, fluff, you almost died, will be making a part 3, this will be a series, historical au, lunch is referred to as dinner

Summary: Lilia finally used the the door.

Masterlist

---

You slumped on your desk, tired for studying for hours. You raised your head to look at the clock. There were still a few hours left before dinner. You just wanted a break. Suddenly, a knock outside your door was heard.

"Enter," you groaned. You placed you arms above the other, making a makeshift pillow for your head to bury in. You heard the door open with a soft creak, following by the sound of hard shoes hitting the floor. You didn't bother greeting who entered, assuming it was just a servant who needs to bring something in your room.

You peeked your eyes out of your arms when a plate clacked lightly on your desk. You blinked, staring at the plate filled with pastries. This wasn't a part of your usual diet. "Now, I didn't make the effort those here, just for you to stare at it."

"Lilia?!"

"The one and only," he winked.

You sat up properly and stared at the man in front of you. He was dressed in a raiment often wore by servants in your household. It was probably the reason why he didn't climb to your window. If you saw him once and didn't know any better, you would have thought he was on his way to rob your room. 'There's no better option,' he will say back.

"What are you planning this time?" You raised one of your eyebrows at him, noticing the familiar glint in his eyes. His youthful face radiates innocence, covering his penchant for mischief. You'd know by now that he doesn't come by if he isn't up to something.

"Less talk and more eating, sweetcheeks. I'm not letting the ants have the first bite. You'll need to lot of nutrients for what we are going to do today."

He stepped forward and grab two cupcakes off the plate. He hands you the one with pink icing. You looked at him suspiciously, though still taking it from him. You rolled the cupcake in your hand, inspecting it carefully for anything weird. You even went as far as sniffing it for any unwanted smell lingering. "Did you make this?" You asked him the million dollar question, wanting to make sure before placing it inside your mouth.

"Not this time," he pouted. You sighed in relief, finally taking a bite of the cupcake. A sweet taste filled your tongue. "I was supposed to, but they insisted on making it," he continued.

"How unfortunate for you. I'm sure they'll definitely let you use the kitchen soon."

You'd have to thank whoever they stopped him from committing a crime. You were so over of the dull food you were being fed with; you can't let your tastebuds be ruined than it already is.

"Oh sweetcheeks, don't be disappointed. Next time, you can be assured that the next batch I will deliver will be baked by me."

"I am on a diet. I'll only indulge you this time.

"Do not worry! I'll make sure that it is completely nutritious than the one you currently have!"

You can only hope that his future plans will be thwarted by them again, for your sake.

---

Tags: @d1gital-data @masquerade-of-misery Thank you for the support! 🥰

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - XIV

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 3,040.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 14

It had suddenly started raining. A good omen, you thought, but when you heard the screams outside your tent you realized that it wasn't for the Persians.

As the raindrops fell from the sky, you moved restlessly inside your tent in the Persian war camp. Your anxiety and stress levels were high and you were afraid that this could affect your pregnancy.

The conversation with Darius and Bessus — you shuddered just remembering the last man, — hadn't been productive and you feared what that might mean. By now Alexander had probably already been notified of your disappearance and was going crazy.

Nothing good would come of Alexander's anger. You placed your hand on your stomach, on your not-yet-growing belly, and took a deep breath. You needed to calm down, all this stress wouldn't do you any good, it would only make you more anxious.

"Excuse me." You were startled when you heard a low voice with a strong Persian accent next to you. You looked at the owner of the voice and relaxed when you saw that it was Bagoas, the eunuch. His footsteps — was that him? You weren't sure — were really silent.

Darius had assigned this eunuch to you as your servant, in this case, personal slave, during your time here. Bagoas would be perfect to satisfy your wishes, the King had said. You felt like slapping him. You didn't need a slave and you didn't want one. Even in Alexander's camp you refused to keep slaves but rather free servants to serve you.

You nodded, waiting for him to continue talking. Bagoas kept his gaze down, not daring to look at your face. He was a slave, you remembered. And like all slaves he was trained to be submissive, not to look free people in the eye.

Your heart ached remembering this, remembering that slavery was common and accepted. That what they did to Bagoas and many others was natural.

Bagoas spoke softly, "Do you need anything?" His voice had a very strong Persian accent but you understood him perfectly.

You shook your head, "No thanks, Bagoas. I'm fine."

Bagoas nodded and silently moved to leave, until you called out to him.

"Bagoas?" You called his name, "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay with you."

Not that he had a choice, you mentally cursed yourself.

Bagoas nodded slowly and stood in front of you. You pointed to a chair next to you, silently telling him to sit down. Bagoas did as he was told.

''You...'' You started to say, but realized you didn’t know what you really wanted to say. Realizing this, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Bagoas, in turn, remained quiet.

You cleared your throat and tried again, ''Would you like some wine or water?''

Bagoas blinked slowly at your request, clearly surprised. He nodded slowly after a few minutes of being completely still. You smiled and took the pitcher of wine and poured it into a cup for him, who hesitantly accepted the cup.

"It's not poisoned." You joked softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Bagoas glanced at you lightly and you could see something amusing sparkle in the eunuch's dark eyes. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip of wine, his eyes fixed on his feet. You smiled lightly and drank some water.

"Would you like something to eat, Bagoas?" You asked, pointing to a silver tray that held cheese, bread, and a piece of honey cake. Bagoas looked at the tray and shook his head.

You frowned. Bagoas was thin, very thin.

"Are you sure? The honey cake is delicious." You tried again but the eunuch just denied it.

"I thank you but no, your Majesty." Bagoas said, his eyes never meeting yours.

"I understood." You sighed and decided there was no reason to say anything, "You're dismissed then."

Bagoas placed the cup on the small table and bowed gracefully to you and silent as he had entered, he left.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your sore neck. You closed your eyes but opened them quickly when the tent flap was lifted and you locked eyes with the intruder.

Perdiccas.

"What do you want?" You practically growled, not bothering to try to be polite.

Perdiccas frowned and sat down next to you, "I have news, my love."

You tried not to make a disgusted expression when he called you “my love”.

"And what would that news be?" You asked uninterested. Perdiccas grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. You frowned at his boldness.

Perdiccas rubbed your fingers, "We are going to Babylon."

You choked on the water you were drinking and the cup was placed sloppily on the table.

"What?!" You questioned him, standing up quickly. Perdiccas didn't seem bothered by your outburst, however.

"We are going to Babylon." He repeated as if you were a child with a learning disability, "I talked to Darius and he agreed that it's safer for you than staying here."

"I am not going." You growled, not even bothering to try and contain your anger. You were tired of men trying to tell you what to do. It could be the custom, the normal thing at that time, but you weren't from that time and you didn't care anymore.

Perdiccas raised an eyebrow, "That's not your choice."

"You don't give me orders." You said confidently. Perdiccas seemed to be getting angry.

Good. That would make two of you.

Perdiccas grabbed your face with one hand and forced you to look into his eyes, "We're going to Babylon and that's final."

Before you could say anything, Perdiccas pressed his lips against yours violently, practically swallowing you. You gasped and tried to pull away but his touch kept you in place.

It was wrong and disgusting on so many levels to feel him kiss you again. At that time, you were desperate and wanted comfort and that's why you kissed him but now it felt wrong, not only because he was forcing you, but also because you didn't want him anymore. You didn't even notice when the attraction you felt for Perdiccas started to wane, you just knew it disappeared.

Now all that was left was a spark of what had once been your friendship. But did this friendship really exist?

When Perdiccas finally released you from the kiss, you noticed that his lips were slightly swollen and you shivered in disgust as you watched him lick them. Before you could think or say anything, you raised your hand and slapped Perdiccas across the face, the sound echoing through the tent.

Perdiccas' face turned to the side from the impact and you knew it hurt when he placed his hand where he had just hit and hissed in pain.

Good.

Perdiccas looked at you in disbelief. He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost and not the woman he knew.

"W-What happened to you?" He asked, still holding his hand over the area where he was hit.

You stared at him with contempt shining in your eyes.

"I happened." You said, your eyes narrowing as the words were spoken, "And don't you ever touch me again without my permission, understand?" Your words were harsh and one could feel the anger reflected in them. Perdiccas swallowed hard as if he had just had a divine revelation.

He finally noticed, you realized it. Perdiccas finally realized that you are no longer the desperate and terrified woman he had met a few months ago.

You were a Queen and you were starting to act like it.

Alexander's tent was eerily silent on that restless night. One might think that the great King was resting, but the flickering light of the flames danced across the walls of the tent, betraying the agitation that consumed him. Alexander found no peace, not while his beloved wife was missing.

The entire Macedonian camp shared his anguish. News of the Queen's kidnapping had spread like wildfire, plunging soldiers and officers into a mixture of fury and despair. No one dared to blame Alexander for his insomnia, as everyone knew that the emptiness next to him in bed was an open wound in his heart. He spent hours pacing back and forth, his troubled thoughts reflected in the flickering shadows the flames cast.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was filled with tension. Maps and parchments were spread out on the table, fingerprints and wax stains bearing witness to long nights of planning and worrying. The heavy curtains that bounded the space swayed gently in the night breeze, but they failed to carry away the feeling of helplessness that permeated the air.

Every sound outside the tent, whether the distant noise of the watchmen or the low murmur of the soldiers on watch, seemed to amplify Alexander's inner silence. His eyes, fixed on the flames, burned with the determination of a man who would not allow his wife to remain a captive any longer. The King of the Macedonians was prepared to move heaven and earth to bring her back, and everyone who knew him knew that nothing would stand in her way.

The entire Macedonian camp reacted with deep consternation to the news of the Queen's kidnapping. The atmosphere, already tense due to the nature of the military campaigns, became even more charged with discontent and suspicion, especially among Perdiccas' men. These soldiers, in particular, were disgusted by their general's actions. How could Perdiccas betray everyone's trust by kidnapping the Queen? By committing such an act, he not only condemned himself, but also cast a shadow of distrust on his subordinates.

The growing distrust between Perdiccas' men and the other soldiers in the camp was palpable. Loyalty, a fundamental pillar of the Macedonian army, was seriously shaken. Alexander had established that any fight between soldiers would be punished by death, a drastic measure to maintain order and discipline. However, the ban seemed to be ignored. Physical conflicts broke out with alarming frequency, and punishments were equally frequent, but they failed to stem the tide of violence and resentment.

The situation reached a critical point when even two of the most prominent generals came into conflict. Hephaestion and Craterus, known for their skills and loyalty to the King, became involved in a fight that shocked the camp. The details of the incident were hazy, but the essence of the conflict seemed clear: Craterus blamed Alexander for the Queen's kidnapping, a serious accusation that infuriated Hephaestion. He, in an effort to defend the honor of his friend and King, confronted Craterus, but the fight only served to increase anxiety and chaos among the troops.

The tension in the camp was almost palpable. Each soldier knew that the unit was crucial to the survival and success of their campaigns, but the shadow of Perdiccas' kidnapping and betrayal put everything at risk. Uncertainty about the Queen's future and safety hung over everyone, exacerbating the tension and making each day more difficult to bear.

The other generals were also overcome with fury at the betrayal. Cleitus, who had now recovered well although he was still too weak to fight, personally wanted to ride a horse with a group of soldiers and scouts to search for the Queen. However, Alexander did not allow it, which resulted in a heated argument that had to be ended by Ptolemy.

Hephaestion spent most of his time at Alexander's side, desperately trying to calm his friend. He was rarely seen outside the King's tent these days, his loyalty and concern evident in his every gesture. Ptolemy, on the other hand, stood out for his calm and rationality. Although he was also deeply upset by the Queen's kidnapping and Perdiccas betrayal, he tried to keep a cool head, aware that one more angry mind would not help anything.

Cassander was equally furious, but he controlled his words carefully so as not to say something that could get him killed. The tension made him clench his fists and grind his teeth, but he knew he needed to maintain his composure. Parmenion and Philotas, in turn, maintained a facade of indifference. They didn't show much concern or emotion in public, but everyone knew that deep down, they cared deeply. The Queen had won their sympathy and respect, and the apparent coldness was just a mask to hide genuine concern.

The camp was on the verge of emotional collapse. Every decision, every word, carried weight. The generals knew they needed to remain united and focused, but the shadow of the kidnapping hung over everyone, making any semblance of normality difficult.

Something needed to be done, and Alexander knew it. He had plans, detailed and strategic plans, and he was determined to carry them out above all else. His mind worked incessantly, tracing every movement, every step necessary to rescue his Queen and punish the traitor.

Inside his tent, Alexander prepared himself. His eyes, burning with a mixture of pain and fury, reflected the intensity of his determination. He knew that once he got his hands on Perdiccas, nothing would stop him. Perdiccas would pay dearly for his betrayal.

Alexander was willing to do anything to get his Queen back, to get you back. The thought of you being in danger tormented him, and he would not rest until you were safe by his side again. He summoned his generals, outlined his strategies and prepared his troops, ensuring that each soldier knew the importance of the mission.

With each passing moment, Alexander's resolve solidified. His leadership, fierce and relentless, galvanized the Macedonian army. The search for the Queen was not just a military operation; it was a rescue mission that touched every soldier's heart. Everyone knew that under Alexander's leadership they would be relentless in their pursuit and punishment of Perdiccas.

As the camp buzzed with preparation, Alexander remained focused. Nothing would divert him from his goal. He would do anything, face any obstacle, to bring his beloved Queen back. And when he finally rescued you, justice would be done, and Perdiccas's betrayal would be avenged with all the fury of a betrayed king.

The night was cold and silent, very silent. The rain from earlier had made the air colder and not even the heavy fur clothes seemed to contain the cold outside.

But you thought it was because most people had already gone to sleep, only you were awake and getting ready to leave the Persian camp.

You sighed and looked around, noticing some guards and servants tidying up everything. You sat down on a rock and tried to contain the excitement that was growing inside you. A part of you was furious with the events, especially with what had happened between you and Perdiccas earlier, but the other part was excited at the prospect of seeing a historic place in person, of seeing Babylon at its height.

You just didn't expect it to be like this. You were a hostage and you knew a lot could go wrong. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"A kiss for your thoughts." You opened your eyes when you heard a voice. You sighed as you realized it was Aslan— or whatever he really called himself — talking to you.

"What do you want?" You asked, adjusting your robes.

Aslan frowned and said sarcastically, "In a bad mood, cara mia?"

"Just tired." That wasn't a lie, not completely. You were exhausted and couldn't sleep well at night with everything that was going on.

"Hmm..." Aslan murmured and sat down next to you, looking at the night sky, "I heard about what happened in your tent with Perdiccas today."

You gave him a sideways glance, ''Leave it alone.''

Aslan shook his head and you could swear there was barely contained anger on his face, "No, I won't let it alone. That wasn't right... Him forcing himself on you like that." The way his words seemed sincere took you by surprise.

You raised an eyebrow and glared at him, ''And do you care?''

"I'm not the bad guy here, (Y/N)." Aslan said and you scoffed, "Despite what you may think, I genuinely care about you."

"Care about me?" You laughed darkly, "If you care about me, then why the hell did you bring me here? What's the point of all this?!"

Aslan sighed, "You'll understand eventually. Now is not the time for you to know the truth, but..." He took your cold hand and rubbed it, trying to warm you up, "I promise I'll take care of you."

You couldn't help how your body shivered at his words. You found yourself watching him closely, his attractive features. Aslan was a handsome man, you finally realized, and although you didn't trust him, there was something about him that attracted you.

He seemed familiar to you somehow.

Aslan brought his face closer to yours and you felt your heart beat faster. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered, "I promise I'll make him pay for laying his hands on you."

You closed your eyes, feeling strangely warm inside at his words, at the promise in them. Aslan's words brought you comfort, something you hadn't felt in a while.

He smiled and kissed your cheek lovingly, "I need to go. I have things to do but I'll take care of you." Aslan let go of your hand and stood in front of you, he placed his hand on your face and lifted your chin, making you look into his dark eyes.

You couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to. Aslan rubbed your chin and brought his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, he said, "I promise I will always take care of you."

The frigid night air didn't seem so cold anymore as Aslan's words were heard by you over and over again. You were standing still, not knowing how to react, just watching him walk away from the camp.

There was a lot to be discovered, you realized. Maybe Babylon had the answers you needed.

— lady l: a calmer chapter but that's because chapter 15, which I'm already writing, will be more chaotic. Aslan is a complex character but does he care about Reader? That leaves the doubt... 👀

I hope you liked it, forgive me for any mistakes and this week I'll release the next chapter! Unti thenl!! ❤️

[thecruellestmonth]

Remembering stuff like Alfred having Bruce and cutting his hair and and dressing him. Which could mean anything but really reinforce the upstairs/downstairs servile relationship. The lack of modesty or shame a rich person has around their staff is something else. And it’s just a like. Almost a Caste system where Alfred is second class and can never BE on Bruce’s level as an equal let alone authority figure. And Alfred is happy with that! Because that’s the story and he is, after all, the butler

[laufire's cool post on Alfred & Bruce]

Yeah, Alfred is not Bruce's father. Bruce is the pater familias of his household like his father before him, and Alfred is his very cherished manservant. Alfred can be a caretaker and a confidant, he can even be parental (-ish), but he's not a parent. (Note to self: rant about the awkward and aggressively enforced line between "parental" and "parent" in Batman mythos.)

IMO one of the most compact arguments on Alfred's role is in Batman: Year One (IIRC the very comic that established Alfred as an old servant of the Wayne family, instead of his original story of being hired by Bruce). Grant Morrison was on some podcast (I think either Kevin Smith's podcast or "Hypertime to Podcast"?) talking about the significance of how Bruce's first act as Batman is to ring a bell to ask for Alfred to help him. We see Morrison emphasize this moment in The Return of Bruce Wayne, where The Bell is a relic on the same level as The Pearls and The Gun.

I can agree it's a defining moment. To some extent I'm willing to accept Morrison's suggestion that Bruce ringing the bell symbolizes the value of asking for help, teamwork, comradery, family, humility, etc—and most fans would be happy to sprint with that interpretation. But I can also juggle a separate interpretation that branches off and veers to the left...

You do not ring a bell to ask for help from your parent or friends or family—you ring a bell to summon a servant.

Bruce becoming Batman in Year One is the story of a prince reclaiming his kingdom. (The Return of Bruce Wayne is a renewal of that story.) Summoning the family manservant is the act of Bruce finally accepting his royal inheritance, after his foolish attempt to slum it with the rabble. A good king is kind and attentive to his subjects, and considers the opinions of his advisors—but they're never his equals or his superiors, no matter how much he cherishes them. They're his subordinates. Nobody is on Bruce's level as an equal, nobody can win a case against his authority, in Gotham. Bruce is the rightful heir of his kingdom. The king and queen are dead, long live the king.

—I know some vocal fans are very critical of Miller, but there's no disputing that Miller's Batman: Year One is the definitive Post-Crisis story of Bruce's invention of Batman, and pretty much every modern comic writer and fan recognizes it. It's likely no comic writer or story has had as much enduring influence on the Batman mythos since Miller wrote Year One and The Dark Knight Returns. Case in point: Alfred.

So yeah. Alfred isn't Bruce's dad. The Gotham TV series probably makes the strongest case for Alfred as Bruce's dad, and even then I personally think there is wiggle room to say eh they're family and they love each other but they're not quite parent & child. Everything else—Batman '66, BTAS, the Nolan movies, Lego Batman, Battinson—ultimately doesn't Alfred cast as Bruce's dad, for the best. Recent comics and the later Arkhamverse games try to force the father-son thing, but it's cheap and unearned.

[imfoive]

Crystal Bird - Chapter 6

Crown Prince! Chan x Princess (fem.) Genre: Royal au! Angst, Romance, Historical, hidden identity, slow-burn Warnings: mentions of blood, peeping-chan, cursing, drinking/smoking, somewhat proofread WC: 7.3k A/N: Turning point! Also this series will go on a mini-break, I want to write a few chapters in bulk and then start posting again. Feedback is always welcome, enjoy! ── MASTERLIST

Synopsis: The Crown Prince is saved by the Princess of a rival kingdom, and he swears his second life to his savior. A forbidden friendship no one knew of, grows deeper with every secret meeting. As the two are kept apart, memories of their sunset playdates by the serene river, begin blossoming into something beautiful. Cheeks blushed, stomach butterflies fluttered at the thought of each other. Years of yearning and imagining had only made them crave a sweeter reunion. And finally meeting at a Royal banquet, he could only stare at the now grown Princess, taken by her beauty, while she only watches as he gives his heart to the wrong princess.

Missed a chapter? - Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

CHAPTER 6 ───────────────────

“The second princess is hurt.”

“She stood in front of Prince Ian’s arrow.”

The whispers had followed her as Y/N made her way down the corridors.

She almost burst into her bedchamber in her rush. Somehow managing to get Sienna and the attention of every maid and attendant that they crossed paths with, off of her. She insisted that she was alright. 

It was simply a scratch, nothing life-threatening.

Her convincing words and determined demeanor were enough for Sienna to sigh and concede, finally allowing her to escape her sister’s watchful eye. Anna had hurried her back to her quarters, her guard ensuring a swift return while the young maid dashed off to fetch supplies to tend to the wound.

Truth be told, it hurt. 

The pain was so sharp that Y/N gripped her dress tightly to steady herself. Yet, she stubbornly refused to show any sign of distress.

Not to Ian, his belittling attitude would only further grate on her nerves.

Not to Sienna, whose concern only drew more attention.

Not to Prince Christopher.

Chan’s cold gaze was the most cutting of all, his look of disdain making her feel like a stubborn fool.

   “You stubborn fool.” Y/N muttered to herself as she slowly pushed aside her sleeve tenderly to inspect her wound in the mirror.

It was far from a mere scratch. The cut on her shoulder was bleeding freely, the flesh around it red and swollen. She winced at the sight, her face contorting into a frown.

A sudden knock startled her, but hearing Anna’s voice from the other side brought a sigh of relief.

Once again, there was a fuss about her wound, but this time it was just between Anna and her. The young maid’s face was a mixture of sadness, anger, and concern as she cleaned away at the spot. And this time, Y/N no longer had the energy to pretend the pain didn’t bother her.

Anna had managed to gather some medicine in her short search, to soothe the injury temporarily. 

Y/N had to attend the Royal dinner that evening, regardless of her condition. Anna suggested they skip it again, but the princess was resolute. She knew that missing the dinner after this afternoon’s incident would be disastrous, already rumors were being whispered amongst the servants.

Stupid Ian. He was probably off indulging in wine and smoke, while she was left wrapping her arm in tight bandages, careful to keep her discomfort hidden.

And on top of it all, Y/N had left behind her novel. She had really been enjoying it too.

Back in the garden where the Nightshade Prince still seemed to linger, had just watched the two princesses hurry off. 

Of course he didn’t believe for a moment that Princess Y/N was fine. As much as she claimed. She was not fine, her hurt expression betrayed the truth.

Chris knew the sting of an arrow graze well. Even a minor cut from cleaning it’s metal tip would hurt and sting for days. This was a deep cut. One that came from a distance and at full force.

A princess like her must be in excruciating pain.

But, what frustrated Chris the most was her stubbornness. The entire scene was absurd, but the boldness with which Y/N had claimed she was alright was what truly irked him.

Lying to him with such ease.

God, did she irk him.

As he glanced around the garden, at the gazebo where he had seen Y/N lounge around earlier before everything had happened, his brows narrowed as his eyes stilled on the out of place object.

Han stared at Chris in confusion, wondering what caught his Prince’s attention, enough for him to stride towards.

The novel.

The one she was engrossed in whenever he caught sight of her out here.

Chris glanced down at it, left on the chair where Y/N had been seated. 

If afternoon tea had gone the way it was meant to, maybe he would have wondered where she had managed to conceal it. Perhaps he would’ve enjoyed the sight of her flustered expression unable to refute or retort his comments.

Surely Ian’s arrival wouldn’t have allowed her to return back to her chambers. She hid it right under her.

Unknowingly, a subtle grin tugged at his lips as he picked up the book, its title already giving him ideas to tease her. 

Then her scowl flashed in front of him. 

They weren’t that close, certainly not after whatever had just transpired at this disastrous showcase or terrible archery skills.

Still, Chris found himself carrying the book under his arm as he turned to his young attendant. The one who was almost Ian’s target.

   “You should thank the second princess for her bravery in stepping up and getting nicked.” Chris advised, turning to leave with Han trailing behind him.

   “That was such a nerve wracking situation.” The warrior guard exclaimed, following behind his Prince who was silent, the novel still in his grip.

Han was still puzzled at everything that had happened. From the tension between the Princes to the injury of Princess Y/N, he truly didn’t know what he should question.

   “That second princess is certainly bold.” He added, eyeing the book in Chris’ grip, its cover decorative, clearly not about politics or foreign affairs.

   “Too bold.” Chris muttered, frustration evident in his tone, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Han shook his head, wondering why every encounter with the second princess seemed to sour Chris’ mood. 

The second princess was a peculiar one, too. If she didn’t treat himself and the Nightshade delegation with respect, then he would have assumed she hated his kind and his people. But perhaps she was just an exceptional actress, hiding her disdain behind polite smiles, a notion Han found doubtful.

His gaze flicked to Chris. But now it just seemed like the second princess simply didn’t get along with his prince. ──────────────────────── The royal dinner that evening was far more intimate than the grand affair Prince Christopher had attended on his first night in the Elysium Kingdom. This time, it was just the royal family and their close extensions. All guards had been ordered to remain outside the dinner hall.

Thus, Chris found himself missing the familiar presence of Han trailing behind him. 

Instead though, his attention was drawn to the discomforted expressions Y/N struggled to mask with strained smiles. Ones she thought she hid well behind polite smiles and curt gestures.

Determined to be more assertive, Chris had taken the advice Y/N had given him the night of the banquet and endeavored to make his presence felt. He had caught the cautious yet curious glances from the Elysium King. 

Despite this, his focus kept returning to Y/N. Over and over again, he grew increasingly annoyed.

Chris found himself mentally reprimanding himself. Reminding his wandering eyes that the only woman he should be stealing glimpses of was his princess.

Sienna, her radiant smile and an unwavering glimmer in her eyes as she acknowledged him were the only things that should have been distracting him.

The Nightshade Prince suddenly decided he did not care what expressions the second princess would make.

He didn’t care if she was hurt. It was none of his concern. She had chosen this for herself, her subtle pained expressions were her own responsibility.

Yes. Avoid her, he told himself.

Yet, his jaw tightened as he watched her stagger, only to be caught by Prince Hyunjin, who immediately let go once she was grounded, and bowed apologetically for his impoliteness.

There was a clench in his stomach, one he couldn’t quite understand.

Despite Chris’ efforts to ignore Y/N’s evident pain, it was impossible not to notice her struggle. 

As the dinner finally drew to a close and guests began to disperse, Y/N managed to somehow send her guard away, claiming she wanted to ensure the night ended perfectly. Although she couldn’t even recall exactly what she had said, the throbbing sensation on her shoulder making her feel overwhelmed.

Once he was gone, she leaned against the wall, exhaling sharply and bracing herself for the journey back to the West Wing and back into her chambers.

She was finally alone.

She thought she was alone, until her vision hazed for a second, and she staggered in her steps. The Sylancrest Prince’s grip on her upper arm steadied her, his eyes filled with both surprise and concern.

His guard, Seungmin, rushed forward, looking between the flustered prince and the equally stunned Y/N.

   “Forgive me, Princess. I couldn’t help myself.” Hyunjin said, bowing apologetically, his stance suddenly rigid.

   “Are you…alright?” His question was tinged with the same concern she’d seen when he gripped her.

Y/N quickly masked her fear of being caught, composing herself and dipping her head in response. 

   “Thank you, Prince Hyunjin. I must have just misstepped.” Another lie that slipped out easily.

Hyunjin took a moment to ensure she was alright before glancing at Seungmin then searching around for the familiar face of her guard. 

   “You shouldn’t be wandering alone, Princess Y/N. Is your guard not around to escort you back?” His gaze then shifted to Prince Christopher and Han, who were approaching.

Y/N stiffened. Here was the man she longed to see. 

Yet here he was, the last man she wanted to see in such a condition. 

She was going to eat her words from this afternoon if she didn’t find an excuse to depart from here soon, the pain of her wound already making her tremble.

   “Is everything quite alright?” Han asked, his eyes darting among the familiar faces with concern.

   “The princess needs to be escorted back to her chambers.” Prince Hyunjin nodded, glancing between the Princess and Chris.

His concern seemed to focus more on her safe return than the strained expression on her face. An expression that seemed to be apparent only to Chris, whose gaze remained sharply fixed on her. Suddenly he found himself opening his mouth, speaking before he could even truly understand what he was saying.

   “Does the princess mind if an uncivilized Nightshade Warrior escorts her back?” Prince Christopher’s words were laced with a taunting edge. 

A tone that makes the Sylvancrest men share a glance.

Of course, Y/N couldn’t refuse now. Not that she wanted to either, anything that would allow her to leave their watchful gazes. So she forced a thin smile and curtsied. 

   “I would be grateful.” She conceded. 

Her easy acceptance unsettled Chris. He had expected her to argue, to insist she was fine and needed no assistance. He expected the stubborn Princess from this afternoon, happily standing in front of an arrow. Yet, all he could think about was how her willingness to accept help, only suggested she was in more pain than she let on.

Chris’ expression hardened.

   “My guard will ensure you return safely Princess.” He stated curtly.

Han fell into step behind Y/N, glancing back once at Chris and Hyunjin before they disappeared from view.

While his personal guard was on an unexpected escort mission, the Nightshade Crown Prince found himself under the scrutiny of the Sylvancrest men. 

It was a risky position.

A Crown Prince standing alone on foreign grounds, observed by representatives of another nation without the protection of his own guard. Yet, the reputation of the Nightshade and his own Warrior Prince title gave Chris a measure of confidence. 

After all, what threat could a pretty boy and his lone guard pose?

Still, he kept his guard up. He turned to observe the Sylvancrest men, noting Hyunjin’s lingering gaze on the path the second princess had taken, a detail the sharp-eyes warrior easily caught. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering towards Seungmin who took a step behind his prince.

   “Do you believe we’re being watched?” Chris’ question took Hyunjin by surprise. 

The Sylvancrest Prince instinctively glanced around, his eyes scanning for any unseen observers who might be keeping an eye on them, an idea Chris wouldn’t put past the Elysium court. Even though Chris himself didn’t sense a specific presence lurking in the shadows, one can never be too cautious.

   “I would not be surprised if we were. We are just visitors who are neither friends nor foe.” Hyunjin stated, The three men fell into a steady pace, with Seungmin trailing a few steps behind.

   “Nightshade has never been a friend to this kingdom, and I doubt it ever will be. We might as well be considered foes. Surely the wary gazes and guarded stance of the royal family haven’t escaped your notice, Prince Hyunjin.” Chris remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.

Hyunjin did not respond to confirm, yet his silence was confirmation in itself.

   “The Elysium King is untrustworthy…” Chris continued, his eyes tracking Hyunjin’s reaction, gauging whether it was a shared observation.

   “This whole celebration seems like a front. Any competent person would come to a similar conclusion.” His tone remained casual, as if discussing something trivial rather than making potentially inflammatory comments about a foreign kingdom on its own soil.

Hyunjin blinked in surprise, his gaze shifting to Seungmin before returning to Chris. A surprised look that reminded the warrior prince of Y/N. From the night of the royal banquet, back in the garden. 

Chris’ friendly demeanor faded, replaced by a more serious expression.

   “You are a Prince. A representative of Sylvancrest. You should not be wary of speaking your mind on Elysium’s soil. Because you are not beneath them.” Chris stated, his words curt, yet full of sense.

Truth be told, Chris found himself slightly irritated by the Sylvancrest Prince’s overly polite demeanor towards the Elysium royals, especially given their dismissive behavior towards him. He recalled the tea time where Ian barely acknowledged Hyunjin’s presence.

Perhaps it was in Hyunjin’s nature.

Perhaps his rank as the fourth prince hadn’t hardened him like it would if he were to be the heir apparent.

Despite this, Chris noticed that his words had affected Hyunjin, the way he looked at him wasn’t unfriendly.

Meanwhile, Han was uncertain about the purpose behind his Prince’s decision to send him as a shadow to Princess Y/N.

Perhaps Chris sought deeper insight into her. Or perhaps he was driven by a sudden curiosity, a suspicion sparked by the afternoon’s events.

The Nightshade guard studied the second princess, who carried herself gracefully with every step.

   “I truly hope you are enjoying your stay here, Sir Han.” Her words cut through his observing gaze, making him blink.

   “Y-yes. I’ve learnt a lot in the past few days about the Elysium Kingdom.” He was polite.

She truly did not need to make small talk with him. Here, even now, she clearly took her duty with importance.

There was nothing outwardly suspicious about her. Aside from the slight sharp intake of breath betraying her pain, she appeared poised and competent.

Han’s gaze softened as he watched her from his position behind. He suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for her. 

For the things he’s overheard, overseen. 

She was rumored to be a princess, guarded and sheltered. 

Yet she wasn’t a weak princess, and neither was she guarded or sheltered. She was simply…forgotten, it seemed.

But Princess Y/N was a competent princess. Perhaps even more so than his Prince’s princess, he had to admit.

An observation that Y/N was never able to make herself.

After returning to his guest chambers, the Nightshade Prince found himself deep in contemplation.

Chris didn’t realize how deeply today’s events would affect him, and it frustrated him.

He had witnessed injuries before. He had seen blood, even watched warriors get pierced by arrows, slashed by swords during training sessions, hunting trips, in the White Mountains. Yet, Y/N’s pained expression, which she tried so hard to conceal amid the dinner’s bustle, kept flashing before his eyes, gnawing at his thoughts.

He shouldn’t be this worried about some foreign princess. 

A scowling princess who clearly had a distaste for him. 

A stubborn princess who chose to put herself in danger.

A rival princess who was nothing like the woman he’d given his heart to.

The woman who he had given his heart to…

Suddenly the memory of Y/N sitting in the garden, reclining beneath the gazebo, absentmindedly toying with her earring while absorbed in her novel, resurfaced in his mind.

Prince Christopher inhaled deeply.

   “Get yourself together Chan.” He muttered, fingers gripping at the crystal bird tightly, shutting his eyes to recall Sienna and her graceful smile.

For the first time in quite a while, he pained to meet his princess, the woman he loved. For the first time he had to remind himself to picture her image. To rid him from the thoughts of another, whose pain seemed to plague his mind.

He had resolved that night that the Second Princess would no longer be a concern for him.

However, even his own thoughts seemed to betray him.

Chris had always been adept at sneaking past guards and gates. But with his grueling training and experience, his secret ventures were bolder than simply infiltrating the Queen’s palace grounds.

Only hours later, the foreign prince was committing a crime that would have dire consequences if he were to get caught. Suddenly finding himself wandering in the cool of the night.

He was sure Minho had spotted him on his exit out. He was sure the Midnight Captain would find Han, his guard would be waiting for him upon his return with that frustrated expression that made Chris feel guilty. Still, he continued his self-appointed mission.

The Nightshade Prince scanned the darkness around him, ensuring he remained unseen, though confident there was no one nearby to catch him anyway.

He moved with practiced stealth, scaling the tree outside the balcony with ease. The soldiers patrolling the West Wing Palace were distant, making it a straightforward task for the warrior prince. His movements up the branches were swift and silent, finding secure footholds until he reached a vantage point near the balcony’s stone railing.

From there, he could see into her room.

The bedchamber of the second Princess.

The curtains were pulled back, which allowed dim moonlight to filter through, casting a soft glow inside.

His brows relaxed as he caught sight of her.

His eyes focused on Y/N’s silhouette standing before a large mirror, a faint grimace on her face. It seemed he had arrived at the right moment.

Although somewhere in his mind he knew that nothing about this was right.

Princess Y/N delicately adjusted the fabric of her nightdress. There was a messy heap of bandages splayed on the dresser, a scissor ready to trim to the amount she needed. Chris continues to watch with a look of wonder on his face. 

It was fascinating almost, to see a sight of a woman so exposed for the first time in his life. Yet he was painfully aware of how disgusting this was. How perverse his presence here seemed, even if his intentions were not so.

It was wrong of him to watch a maiden in the privacy of her chambers, dressed in nothing but her nightwear. 

It was wrong to watch a princess from outside her balcony. 

Yet, an inexplicable draw kept him rooted in place, captivated by the sight before him.

The Second Princess seemed to have that constant effect on him.

She hissed in pain as she inspected her injury, her brows furrowing in frustration. The sound of her low voice pierced the quiet of the night, out into the night, snapping Chris back to reality. Reminding him that he was here with a purpose.

He focused on the still-bloody wound on her shoulder, his concern growing palpable.

Without hesitation, he leaped from the tree branch onto the balcony railing, his strong hands effortlessly pulling himself up onto the flat surface.

The sudden movement caught her attention. Her eyes widened in shock as she glimpsed at his figure in the reflection of the mirror. For a moment, their gazes locked in mutual surprise.

Despite the intrusion, Y/N didn’t scream. Instead, she swiftly spun around on her heels, her hands frozen around the sleeve of her nightdress, ready to confront her unexpected visitor.

   “Y-your highness!” She exclaimed in a shocked whisper, instinctively trying to cover herself, which inadvertently caused herself more pain as she grazed the injured spot, followed by soft, painful hisses.

Chris took swift steps forward, entering her quarters through the open balcony. His hand extended to offer assistance, but froze midway. Realizing.

Their eyes met in the dimly lit room, both acutely aware of the impropriety of the situation. The potential consequences, if her chambermaid, or one of her mother’s attendants or even her guard were to walk in unexpectedly.

Yet, in that moment, Chris couldn’t tear his gaze away from the wound on her shoulder. Formalities and protocol faded into insignificance.

Chris could not convince himself to take a step back.

   “Let me help you, at least listen to me once.” He emphasized before she could boldly reject like she had in the afternoon.

   “No. It isn’t right.” She whispered. “You shouldn’t be here. What if someone catches you, or-or what if my mai—“

   “No one will find out.” He cut her off, paranoia still strong in her expression.

   “I’m a warrior. I can hear footsteps from miles away, did you forget?” He cocked his head with a somewhat smug smile. 

It seemed to be enough to sort of calm her, though she was doubtful about the “miles away” part.

Slowly, Y/N lowered her hands from her injured shoulder, her arms falling to her sides as she nodded hesitantly. Chris pressed his lips together in determination and took a hesitant step closer. Then another one, until he was close enough to graze his hand against the fabric of her nightgown. She stiffened, yet allowed him to continue.

Chris’ fingers delicately grasped the sleeve of her nightdress and gently pushed it down, ensuring not to hurt her, exposing the injured skin underneath. She shivered involuntarily as his cold fingers made contact with her warm flesh.

His eyes shoot to study her delicate expression before settling back on the cut. The intimacy of their position was palpable, a situation that could spark scandal if they were discovered. Yet all Christ saw was an injured bunny, shivering under his touch.

His calloused fingers grazed soft, and surprisingly gentle, brows knitting at the sight of her raw wound.

Though it was just a graze from the metal tip of the sharp arrowhead, it didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. He sighed, bringing the satchel that hung lowly around his torso forward, and rummaging through it. Her eyes stared in wonder, the Prince had come prepared.

   “We have to clean it before applying anything on it.” Chris muttered quietly, almost to himself, as he focused on the task at hand.

She watched him with a mixture of amusement and awe, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at the anticipation of his fingers touching her skin again, warm and gentle. Y/N trusted Chris. More than she let on.

Perhaps even with her life.

His jaw tightened with concentration as he applied antiseptic to a piece of gauze, before bringing it towards her injury.

   “It’ll sting a bit.” He warned, his eyes flickering from the inujury to her observant gaze.

   “I’ll manage.” She replied briskly, but of course her resolve faltered with a sharp intake of breath as the antiseptic made contact with her wound.

Chris’ expression softened briefly, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. He had tried to spare her this discomfort, he had attempted to prevent her from even standing against Ian, but she had stubbornly refused.

Chris wrestled with conflicting emotions as he tended to her wound. He couldn’t shake the sense of anger simmering within him.

How could the Crown Prince, responsible for the safety of his people, jeopardize them for what seemed like amusement? 

How can the princess be so reckless, allowing herself to get hurt in such a stupid way?

These were just some of the thoughts that plagued his mind ever since the incident. Ever since he could only see her and only her, afterwards. Chris was sure if he didn’t sneak in here he would have dreamt of her and her damn injury.

And now, here he was, in the private chambers of a princess, risking her reputation and his own standing.

Chris resented how she stirred this protective instinct in him. Her seemingly carefree attitude towards the dangers surrounding her, only fueled his frustration.

He took a deep breath, trying to quell his anger. Or the thoughts that question what he was even doing here in the first place.

Perhaps it was his sense of duty and compassion, the healer within him, that compelled him to act despite the risks.

A Nightshade warrior. A Nightshade healer. A leader, a protector.

Yes, that was it.

With a frown, he pulled back the handkerchief that had cleaned off most of the dried blood from her wound. Still gentle actions amidst the frustration that bubbled in him.

Princess Y/N glanced at it briefly before he disposed of the soiled cloth and continued searching through his bag.

   “This salve is used by soldiers in the training field.” He stated, pulling out a small container.

Uncapping it revealed a pale green cream that Chris doesn’t hesitate to swipe onto his fingers.

   “It has a numbing agent that will help you at least get a good night’s rest, and if you apply it throughout the day, will quicken the recovery process.” His explanations helped the quiet girl, still in his loose grasp. 

But that was not what the princess was wondering.

   “Why did you suddenly show up at this ungodly hour to apply medicine on my wound?” Her gaze was peering, his eyes flickered between the cream and her before he took a closer step.

An action that makes her straighten, reminding herself of their close proximity, something he was seemingly unbothered by.

   “An injury from an arrow can kill even a warrior of Nightshade, and you’re just a princess.” He stated matter-of-factly. 

It was true, but it wasn’t the entire truth behind his forbidden presence here.

Chris could never admit that her injury had weighed on his mind all evening, that her pained expression had haunted him whenever he attempted to close his eyes to finally sleep. He would of dreamt of her, he was sure of it.

Y/N remained quiet, absorbing his care and concern despite the…unconventional circumstances.

Gently smoothing the salve onto her wound, Chris ensured it covered every side, his touch careful. Y/N watched him silently, feeling the soothing coolness of the salve easing the burning pain she had endured, the pads of his fingers grazing ever so gently.

Chris glanced up at her face, noticing the pallor of her lips and the signs of cold sweat on her brow. It was clear she was suffering, possibly even beginning to develop a fever from bearing the pain. Despite her discomfort, she hadn’t uttered a single complaint.

Anger flared within Chris anew, as if every time he discovered a new side of her discomfort, the angrier he got.

His frustration was not just at the situation but also at her stubborn resilience. She bore the pain quietly, refusing to acknowledge her own distress.

It irked him that she seemed to endure such hardships without protest, as if she didn’t value her own well-being enough to seek help sooner.

He wanted to scold her. To nag at her for her risky decisions. Yet he was in no place to do any of that.

Everything she did irritated him, sticking to his thoughts like a parasite.

But as he continued to apply the salve, his touch slight and caring, he also felt a twinge of admiration for that same stubborn resilience. She may have been a princess, sheltered from many hardships, but she possessed a bravery that deserved respect. Something even some Nightshade Warriors lacked prior to any formal training.

His conflicting emotions simmered beneath the surface as he finished treating her wound, silently hoping the salve would bring her some relief.

   “How did you get up here?” Y/N’s voice carried more volume now, her initial anxiety giving way to curiosity.

Chris blinked, momentarily taken aback by her direct question that brought him out his thoughts. He shifted his focus from her questioning eyes, to the open balcony behind him, where he had entered her chambers.

   “I climbed.” He replied curtly, as he placed the jar of salve on the table, which had now become a makeshift first aid station.

Chris picked up the string of bandages, preparing to tend to her wound further. While Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow, a gesture she would have emphasized with crossed arms she wasn’t injured.

   “That doesn’t help dispel rumors of the Bahng being beasts in the night.” The curious princess muttered to herself, though her words were clear enough for him to hear.

Chris paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the seriousness of the situation.

He suddenly recalled her novel, its cheesy title.

Her comment only made him think about the teasing thoughts that crossed his mind once he picked up the book that currently sat on the dresser in his room. Her comment was innocent, yet he raised a brow.

A prince sneaking into a princess’s chambers was indeed scandalous.

   “I know I bragged about coming from a romantic clan, but I assure you, I’m not truly a beast.” He remarked lightly, his gaze meeting hers with tease and amusement.

Of course she understood, the look in his eyes a clear giveaway. There was a flush of heat rising to Y/N’s cheeks as she realized the implication of Chris’ words.

   “T-That’s not what I mean—” She started to clarify, but Chris broke into a small chuckle at her innocent reaction. 

A sound that made the second princess stare at him, momentarily stunned by the unexpected sight of his smile. She had forgotten how his smile looked up close after all these years. 

Had he always had that prominent of dimples? 

And was his smile always this captivating? 

In recent days, she had seen him smile, but none of those smiles had been directed at her.

A pang of longing squeezed her chest, and she quickly averted her gaze from his face.

Chris sensed the shift in her mood but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he gently began wrapping the bandage around her shoulder, his touch tender and comforting.

   “Our clan learned from the beasts of the night, so the rumors aren’t entirely untrue. Besides who wouldn’t want to be compared to a ferocious creature, just the thought of it is enough to scare away enemies.” He stated matter-of-factly. 

She nodded, amazed at the way he thinks. And even more so amazed that she was no longer feeling the stinging pain on her shoulder. That salve was absolute magic.

   “It doesn’t hurt!” She remarked in surprise, her wide fascinated eyes fixed on him as if seeking confirmation.

Chris couldn’t help but be reminded of his earlier comparison, seeing her now as a small rabbit in the presence of a supposed beast. He managed to contain another chuckle.

   “I told you, it has a numbing agent. That means it’s working.” He explained with a gentle smile, his eyes meeting hers warmly.

As Chris finally finished wrapping Y/N’s shoulder and trimmed off the excess bandage, he stepped back, his hands finally dropping to his sides. He inspected his work, reassured that the bandaging would suffice to ease his concerns about her injury, thoughts that might otherwise have kept him awake all night.

A brief silence settled between them. A silence that stretched as they stood their almost awkward all of a sudden. Y/N swiftly pulled her sleeve back up, a gesture that underscored the impropriety of their encounter, all over again. Chris cleared his throat, breaking the silence, while Y/N turned slightly, suddenly self-conscious of her attire.

   “Remember, apply the salve throughout the day.” Chris reminded her softly, pressing his lips into a thin smile as he gestured towards the ointment on the table.

As Chris turned to head back towards the balcony, Y/N’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

   “Wait—are you going to jump? From here?!” Her shock was evident, as if she had momentarily forgotten their conversation about the Nightshade Warriors mimicking beastly tactics.

   “Well, I can’t exactly go out the front door now, can I? Should I get caught and confess about our nightly rendezvous?” Chris teased, his tone playful and light-hearted.

Taken aback by his cheeky response, Y/N quickly composed herself, standing straight and bowing her head slightly.

   “Please, Your Highness, please jump off my balcony. Y/N replied with mock formality, adding a dramatic curtsy for emphasis.

This time, Chris couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his lips. He let his head drop slightly to hide it, clearing his throat before responding in mock seriousness.

   “That was the plan. Now, goodnight, Princess. I hope you feel better in the morning.” He nodded, turning around and preparing to jump down from the balcony. Which he does, his descent from the stone rails almost graceful.

Y/N gasped as Chris jumped from her balcony, despite knowing his intention. She hurried to the edge and peered down anxiously, watching him land easily on a large branch of the tree and then onto the lush grass below. He glanced up at her, a smirk dancing on his lips, before disappearing into the darkness of the night.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Y/N scanned her surroundings, ensuring there was indeed no one else nearby.

A torrent of emotions flooded her mind. From the moment he had snuck into her room to now, she had witnessed different facets of this warrior prince who had always been aloof and curt towards her and the rest of the royals and nobles, except her sister. It saddened her to think that Sienna received his charming smiles and intense gazes.

Why couldn’t she just tell him how she felt? About who she truly was.

Why couldn’t he recognize her? Connect the dots as easily as he caught onto other things.

Bitterness welled up inside her.

Y/N turned back to her room, her heart heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The night had brought them closer in unexpected ways, yet the divide between them seemed insurmountable.

With a heavy heart, the second princess closed the balcony doors behind her. The night air was cool as Chris climbed through the window back into his room at Ruby Hall. Like he had concluded, his personal guard paced his quarters.

Ever dutiful and ever exasperated, stilled with surprise once he caught sight of the sheepish expression on Chris’ face, his own expression a mix of concern and annoyance.

   “My Prince, please. You must stop doing this to me.” Han pleaded quietly, his voice a mixture of fatigue and annoyance.

Chris, still smirking from his successful escapade, undid the ties of his dark blouse and settled on the edge of his bed. 

   “I was quick.” He chuckled smugly, clearly pleased with himself.

Han groaned, even in foreign palaces this prince of his has no fear of wandering off. The guard almost lost it when Minho had shown up in the dark of his room to notify him of Prince Christopher’s… nightly excursion.

Yet he leaned back, eyeing the bag of supplies Chris had dropped on the dresser. 

   “You can return now, you’ve done a good job.” Chris remarked pointedly.

   “I always do a good job.” Han retorted, but his gaze was back on the satchel.

   “Don’t tell me you snuck out to meet Princess Sienna and exchange desserts at this hour of the night!” Han exclaimed, his exhaustion making his tone more exasperated than accusatory.

These days he recalled the two royals had grown closer, exchanging foods and desserts, kindling a friendship perhaps over tea, much like they did as children. Though it would still be inappropriate to choose now of all times for small talk and tea.

However, while the guard pondered his thoughts, the Nightshade Prince stiffened at the remark. Chris’ smile faltered, and his eyes widened slightly as a sudden realization took hold.

Sienna.

His Princess.

The first princess, who he had forgotten all about.

A sudden dryness gripped his throat, and had Han not called his name to bring him out of his thoughts, he probably would have figured out why that was.

   “Did you really go to see her?” Han pressed once more.

Chris shook his head, as if shaking away the anxious thoughts.

   “That would be very inappropriate. I’m a Prince, I would never sneak around to meet a princess in the middle of the night.” He lied smoothly because that’s exactly what he did.

   “Besides, Princess Sienna doesn’t remember me yet. It would probably be more than a little weird, possibly even terrifying, if I showed up out of the blue with cookies.”

Han sighed deeply, his worry evident despite his master’s casual demeanor. 

   “Just, next time, please let me know before prancing off.” He requested once again, resigned to the fact that Chris would continue with his antics regardless. 

As Han exited the room, he stood for a moment outside the closed doors, his mind racing. The faint scent of medicine still lingered in the air, from his prince, sparking his curiosity further. He knew Chris well enough to sense when something was amiss. 

Han could only think of one person who was injured enough for his prince to offer medicine.

His prince did sneak off to see a Princess.

Though she was not the one who he claimed to love. ──────────────────────── The Sylvancrest Prince found himself unexpectedly seated in the King’s personal study, facing the Elysium King himself.

The situation was nerve-wracking. Seungmin had been left behind at the study’s threshold, while Hyunjin had been led through the grand corridors by a stern King’s guardsman. Now, he sat in the suffocating silence that had settled between them.

Finally, the King cleared his throat and gestured to the liquor set between them, which a servant had placed upon his arrival. 

   “It’s quite late, Your Majesty.” Hyunjin declined politely, feeling an internal urge to stay sober for whatever purpose had brought him here.

   “Was there something particular you needed from me?” He asked.

A smile spread across the Elysium King’s face, almost eerie in its intent, hinting at something concealed beneath the surface. The King reached for his glass, took a sip, and then leaned back in his chair.

   “The Sylvancrest Kingdom has indeed become a thriving nation, prospering these days. But how long do you think this prosperity will last?” He began, causing Prince Hyunjin to raise an eyebrow, puzzled by the direction of the conversation.

   “Sylvancrest boasts about grand seaports and vital trade routes. As a leader who values trade and business myself, I must tell you that maritime trade has its limitations.” The Elysium King continued.

Hyunjin cleared his throat, trying to manage his growing frustration. Suddenly he recalled Prince Christopher’s words from earlier that evening.

   “Forgive my directness, but what exactly are you trying to convey?” His gaze was sharp now, a stark contrast to the polite demeanor he had maintained since his arrival.

   “I propose forming an alliance. One that would be mutually beneficial for both Elysium and Sylvancrest. Perhaps allow you to access trade routes on land.” The King finally declared.

The room fell into a tense silence as the foreign prince processed the sudden proposal.

   “It does not make sense.” Hyunjin finally said, breaking the silence. 

   “I am merely the fourth prince of my nation, not even in line for the throne. I’m not the one you should be offering such…alliances to.”

The Elysium King chuckled, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down Hyunjin’s spine. 

Sinister and calculating.

   “Elysium can help you become the only one truly worthy of claiming your throne.” ──────────────────────── Chris knew it was a dream.

There was no way he had returned to her balcony. Yet everything felt so vivid. The night chill raised goosebumps on his arms, even beneath the black attire that concealed him in the dark, the curtains leading into her room flowed freely with the gust of winds.

He knew it was a dream.

Princess Y/N smiled at him.

Far from the scowl he was used to seeing. Her eyes meet his through the reflection of the mirror she stood before, dressed in nothing but a nightgown.

The one Chris remembered feeling silky to touch.

His gaze flickered to the shoulder he had bandaged, only to find it completely unblemished, bare shoulders glowing for his eyes to take in.

And no sign of injury at all.

It was a dream.

Still, the Nightshade Prince took a step forward, then another, and one more. Until he was just inches from her.

His chest heaved, throat dry. Eyes trailing over details of her he missed in reality. Details his subconscious had seemed to etch into memory.

   “Prince Christopher.” Her voice was a whisper, delicate and soft in the quiet of her dimly lit chambers. 

The furniture seemed to glimmer faintly under the candlelight and moonlight, more details that Chris had likely conjured up in his mind for the sake of this vivid, unsettling dream.

Still, the foreign prince reached out daringly, his fingers grazing the warmth of her jaw. The skin was searingly hot against his touch. 

The Nightshade Prince had only read the title of that novel she had left behind, yet here he was, dreaming of committing such forbidding acts that were straight out of a love story. Even if it was all in his mind.

He swallowed hard and leaned in, finally capturing her lips in a soft, passionate kiss. Their breaths mingling in the heated moment.

The press of her plush lips on his, had sent a jolt through his entire body.

A jolt so strong, he had pulled himself back to reality.

It was nothing but a dream.

Chris woke up panting, his eyes wide as he stared at the dark covers. The back of his hand flew to his lips, covering them as his eyes stared into nothingness.

It replayed again in his mind.

He screwed his eyes shut, trying to dispel such lewd thoughts that emerged.

Grasping the crystal bird in his clammy hand, he tried to calm the erratic pounding of his heart, attempting to rid himself of the lingering sensations of the imaginary kiss and the softness in Y/N’s voice as she whispered his name.

The warrior prince did end up dreaming about her. Though not in the way he had thought.

No way. 

How could he dream of such a thing?

   “Fuck. Get yourself together, Chan.” He muttered for the second time, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration.

Then he realized the thoughts did not subside.

Instead his heart beat quickened at an erratic beat that made him anxious.

A part of his mind attempted to push him into another slumber. Into another dream where he could return back to the Princess, her chambers.

To her lips.

No way.

   “How-how could I…fall for her? How could I fall for the wrong princess?”

Suddenly his eyes widened with a new fear, one the warrior prince had never felt before.

This night was a special one. 

As the second princess gazed at her reflection in self-pity in her chambers, the Nightshade Prince grappled with his own unsettling thoughts. Both remained unaware of the Elysium King’s sinister schemes. Behind closed doors, the King was orchestrating something harrowing with the seemingly naive Sylvancrest Prince.

Indeed, the night was special. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ to be continued.

── ask to be tagged! - @stayceebs97, @palindrome969, @tsunderelino, @solandiszale, @fixation-dump, @ellelabelle, @gaslasyttune, @qwonyoung23, @minh0scat, @candyquokka, @sellomaybe

[moonbaby26]

Title: Two Conditions

(Chapter 8 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (referenced), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, controlling/possessive relationship, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex referenced (female receiving), Doffy considering baby trapping reader, Doffy referencing attraction to reader even when she was still a teen (nothing happened)

Chapter Synopsis: It’s now day two of your three day agreement to stay with Doflamingo. You’re still surviving, even enjoying it at times. But whether that is for better or worse remains to be seen as he’s keen on coercing your full commitment to him as soon as possible.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8, 9

——————————

—————————— 

It was clear that you were far more familiar with sharing a bed than Doflamingo was for as deeply as you now slept. Either this or you were just that exhausted from enduring him so many more times throughout the night.

Even his cock was finally feeling a bit sore from so much grinding, lube or not. But he never would have told you that, just watching you sleeping against him still in what was probably now two or three in the morning.

He’d only allowed you out of the bed long enough earlier to eat dinner with him as well as to use the attached master bath to clean up, and occasionally relieve your bladder from the beer you’d had in town and all the wine which came alone with him after.  

Dinner had been a quick one out on the balcony, you and he both indulging in a mushroom risotto with scallops. More of that traditional Scyllian fare prepared from the kitchen and personal chefs below. Though those servants would have long gone home by now.

Even as expensive as this place had been to purchase, it was still far smaller than what he was used to. Which also meant that it stayed less crowded inside. Really, not much more than the two of you left except for some useless guards perhaps still patrolling this late at night.

But you had seemed to approve when first seeing the villa. Because of course, what difference did you know? The majority of your quiet hours were likely only had laying in a marine bunk not much bigger than a coffin, having to hear all your other crew moving and breathing around you in the ships you traveled on. 

Like an ant in the dirt with all the others.

But he couldn’t stop watching you all the same, so vulnerable beside him. This fascination with you in particular only seeming to worsen exponentially each time that he had you alone.

And he already had thrown down the gauntlet with Tsuru, announcing his intentions to keep pursuing you despite her strong misgivings. So he’d have to be prepared for those consequences soon.

She had promised to air everything she knew about him in an attempt to drive you off. All in the name of protecting you of course. And goddamn that woman did know almost all of it. And even what she had no proof for, she likely still heavily suspected.

But him racing against that clock to capture you fully before she could sabotage him only made things that much more interesting really.

It was obvious that you and Tsuru had yet to connect again since she’d first found out. But the moment she was back on the scene, it’d be a full out battle of wills for your fate he was sure.

And this was the primary reason everything had to be rushed along.

Though, courting you at this speed did agree with his natural impatience too of course. He’d waited long enough to have these chances with you after all.

Whether you accepted it yet or not, he had wanted this from very first sight. And he absolutely would have fucked you senseless in the North Blue too if things had worked out better then. Teenage body or not for you at that time in your life. 

Sometimes he still suspected that you and Tsuru had even added a few years onto your official marine record to make you legal for recruitment back then. She’d kept you hidden aboard her ship as a little chore girl well before training you up to let you out into the field with villains like him he was sure.

Because she had learned the hard way not to leave the wrong child behind again hadn’t she? 

Doflamingo smirked to himself at those old thoughts, just burying that scarred left side of his face back against you now.

He was going to have to tell you that part of his story eventually. Because she would if he didn’t. The one about the rage filled little boy whose eye and life your insufferable race had tried to steal as they rose up against him. 

The bottomless violence of humankind only contrasted in the one older woman he’d met soon after that offered him a brief respite which nearly made him change it all. 

He had begged Tsuru not to leave him there. That boy had cried out for a mother’s warmth one last time and been so fatefully denied.

Too young to recruit then she’d said, and with biological family still alive that she wouldn’t remove him from.

Oh how Doflamingo had wondered how many nights she had lain awake ruing that mistake ever since. Especially when her peer Sengoku had found an even younger Rosinante soon after and done for that traitor what she wouldn’t for him. Of course Doflamingo had never learned about Sengoku’s direct involvement until long after his brother’s death.

But now, so much like his bird namesake which sometimes hid their head beneath their wings as they slept, Doflamingo had long since made a habit of burying that blind side of his face and those mistakes of the past within the nearest comfort whenever available.

And tonight, instead of just another cold empty bed and overstuffed pillows alone, that actually meant the safety of the nape of your neck as he breathed in your scent and warmth.

Everything he did still had its own purpose though. Even as entirely uncomfortable as it’d been to let you see him laid bare this soon, he knew he was correct to have made this choice.

Because it was already so obvious in the way you’d touched his face and spoken to him so sincerely after…you were already forgetting how easily that switch within him could still flip.

If he used tenderness as a tool to get his way, it didn’t erase anything else that he was still so capable of. This beast would still bite you, even as an injured one now experiencing your rare kindness.

Especially an an injured one actually when faced with your weakness of affection. 

Because no amount of kisses, soft touches, or pretty words could make his pain any less real. Or dampen his inner fear of ever experiencing that level of helplessness again that he had once been dealt from your kind. 

If you did sleep beside him enough nights to find out, you’d discover him sweating and thrashing in his sleep eventually. Reliving the ropes cutting into his wrists, the fire at his feet, and the smoke in his lungs as he’d screamed at those vermin. Screamed and threatened to destroy everything and everyone even as their arrows finally hit their mark.

He’d made good on some of those promises too in recent years. But it would never be enough. That rage could never be fully quenched, his suffering from it never lessened. 

That pain could only be paused perhaps, or briefly redirected. In the instances where he was receiving something that he also wanted so thoroughly.

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fight you. And he wanted to keep you.

His mind had run endless with plans and strategies to do this very thing for so long now. But he absolutely had to seal the deal soon to make this permanent. 

Because the only thing he was certain of when it came to these conflicting emotions was that no one else could be allowed to truly claim you again.

As his long body shifted once more, nestling even further against you at every meeting point that he could, his hand still tightened slightly on your lower abdomen.

That was one option he was still considering.

He hadn’t forgotten the crazy things you’d made him say in Sabaody. He’d been so angry with you that day. Likening you to nothing better than livestock for him to shame, abuse, and even impregnate however he’d see fit. 

It was still very much a cheat too if he chose to use that. Because as highly as he regarded his own twisted, mother and son like relationship with Tsuru, it also made him not see a chain in this world stronger than that between mothers and their spawn.

No matter what you said or eventually promised him now, he knew you may still try to fly away from him one day. But if there was a child…then no matter where or how far you may wish to run, you would always return right back to any nest he’d made for you. You would do so without hesitation if your chick was the one within his grasp instead. If it was crying out in fear for your protection.

And the immorality of such ideas was not even a concept worth considering. Because of course he could do whatever he wished with his own future blood, or with you, his own desired mate.

It was just the logistics of achieving such a thing. 

When his servants had searched your bag earlier, he could have had them throw out those stupid birth control pills of yours then and there.

But you’d just get more as soon as you were back on any marine ship. He knew that. So the fight that would have been with you hadn’t been worth the annoyance to him right now.

Not for such a low chance of making a difference in just three days time anyway. 

But he was definitely keeping an eye on that potential. If it really came down to it, he knew other chemicals existed. Things that nullified those pills which could easily be slipped into drinks for instance. 

Caesar alone had a treasure trove of old Germa 66 data that’d been stolen. Forced fertility was hardly a complicated affair in all the greater horrors Vinsmoke Judge had committed to his own bloodline.

The reminder to Doflamingo that he had no blood family, outside of the more distant ones that he’d gladly kill if they ever set foot beyond their gilded gates in Mariejois, was a bittersweet one though.

If you really could give him that family back one day, he would absolutely use both you and that child to help with the void those last executions had still left him with. It would be something to finally have the Heart seat filled again too of course like he’d considered before. Doflamingo had lost his heart in more ways than one back then. 

———————————

“Doffy.” You said quietly, just this surreal scene something your mind was still trying to accept as you felt his breath warm and soft against your neck in the new light of day.

Well, the dim light of day. The curtains were not pulled shut. But the sky was overcast, gloomy almost.

The perfect morning to never move at all really.

With a sleeping monster coiled all around you, like you were some shiny pebble he’d never let go of again.

But this pebble needed to pee.

Quite badly, with a smaller bladder than him, and all that wine still filtering into it. Something expensive and vintage you couldn’t even properly pronounce, but it’d been that or nothing as thirsty as you’d been last night. As sweaty as you’d been as you’d climbed that pirate as if you’d never see a man again.

Over and over, but somehow you’d still survived him.

If there had been blood again, it’d only been specks. Mostly under his fingernails or yours. And he’d liked it every time. Every claw mark, every bruise and bite. He’d wanted to give as much as receive.

But he was about to receive something worse if he didn’t release you soon.

“I need to pee.” You said a little more insistently. Trying to slide out from between his arms, and those even longer legs wrapped so tightly around you.

But you felt his face press into you even harder. Even that short blond hair now messy, mussed against your skin.

His calves slid against you, warm and tight as a new sound finally greeted your ear.

“….and if I say no?”

His voice was dark, but so thick with sleep still. There was a large hand running down your side again.

“Then I piss on your skinny bird legs.” You threatened.

He made an indistinguishable sound at that, but you felt his lips upturn against your spine.

“Filthy animal.” And now that same hand had moved to enclose on your wrist.

He’d been like this some last night too anytime you’d needed to leave the bed. But he’d been much easier to fight when worn down from all the fucking.

This was now a Doflamingo with a few hours of sleep back in him.

But you still didn’t have the time, deciding to take that challenge. Pulling up your legs so quickly that he couldn’t catch them with his own.

You put the soles of your feet against that hard abdomen of his next as you pushed for all you were worth. Only the strength of one of his hands now pitted against the force of both of your legs. 

He cursed at the pain that made for him, and when he twisted his body, your foot nearly slipped down between his legs. Not intentionally on your part, but you and he both realized how close you’d come to annihilating him right in the balls this early in the morning.

He released you immediately too then. And you hadn’t been ready for that, crashing right off the bed with most of the blankets as you’d still been trying to pull away from him. 

Yet you jumped right back up, though with the bedsheet cascading off of your hip as you thought he might be coming after you to continue the struggle.

But he was only staring at you. Still laying there on the bed where your fall had fully uncovered him. Like some kind of nude adonis in annoyed repose. 

You straightened up at the sight, nude as well and trying not to feel that flush of heat within you all over again.

And he said nothing, but you felt his gaze on you all the way until you’d made it into the bathroom and closed the door for privacy.

But then that was actually worse. Again, just like the night before, not being able to see him meant he could be moving anywhere, doing anything. The same way that snakes and spiders didn’t bother you as long as you could see them. But it was an entirely different matter once they disappeared.

You were trying to listen for any footfalls even as you flushed the toilet and briefly washed your hands over the sink.

But there was nothing and you had opened the door again soon enough.

You saw he had indeed moved, but only to pull the blanket back off of the floor and onto his body. Only his shoulders and head were exposed now. He had the left side of his face buried against the mattress as well in the absence of you. His right eye still watching you, but through a half lidded gaze.

Still that tired then? Poor thing, you thought sardonically.

Yet this was also your chance to get something else done as you tried not to make a big show of grabbing one of the now empty wine glasses off of the dresser. The drinking had started on the balcony with dinner last night, and then moved back inside as he’d herded you into the bed and beneath him once more all those hours ago.

You were absolutely still sore too as you kneeled down by your duffel bag. You unzipped it quietly, just enough to slide your hand in and pop one of your birth control pills out of the foil packet buried within your clothes.

In one smooth movement, you’d slipped the pill into your mouth and stood again. Just walking back to the bathroom to fill the wine glass with enough water from the sink to wash the pill down as you’d swallowed.

“You really are a fucking animal.” His voice cut through rather loudly right as you’d tilted your head back.

You about spit the water out at the sudden gruff voice, glaring back at him through the open bathroom door for startling you.

But the pill did make it down your throat as you’d walked back out.

“What’s your problem? Go back to sleep, pirate!” You fussed, heart rate up now as that’d been so unexpected in the otherwise silence of the dimly lit room.

You left the wine glass back on the dresser as you approached the bed again however.

And that crimson red iris of his right eye was locked in on you, even as he opened the blanket and quickly pulled you back against him once you were close enough.

His grip was stronger than minutes before, painful this time as you felt his cock, already half hard again against your back.

But he didn’t use it right now, just growling a little in your ear. “The problem is that we don’t drink from bathroom sinks, you little savage. If you want water, you ring the help to bring you some. Ice water filtered into a pitcher, not bathroom water from the same room that we shit in…got it?”

And then he was forcing you to turn around again, to face him in the bed before he tightened the blanket back around you both.

Your eyebrows were lowered, knowing he was actually serious but not at all understanding why this was suddenly such a trigger. Why was he so goddamned weird? He’d literally licked his own cum off of your face last night. But drinking from the sink was taboo?

“Yes, Doffy.” You muttered anyway. Intuitive enough to realize that that was also what he wanted to hear.

But he huffed a little regardless. His eye still on yours as he answered. “Watch the bratty tone. I’ll housebreak you yet, little cur.”

And even with the dark clouds outside, enough sunlight was filtering in to start to lose your focus by watching his face again.

He really did have expressive eyes when they weren’t hidden. 

So even as much of an asshole as he was already being to you just minutes after waking, you did find yourself touching his face again soon enough.

And him allowing it as well despite that previous condescending talk while he turned his head so that both his eyes could be seen now. His cheek was against your hand as he still watched you.

“What now, love?” He asked abruptly then. 

Just like that his tone was different again with your touch. But it felt intentional too. You weren’t as naive as he may think.

Like it was still all a game somehow. From cold to warm, then sweet back to sour again, dangling the lure in front of you, then pulling it away again to try and make you drop your guard.

But he was willing to keep it going even if you weren’t falling for this constant switching back and forth fully yet. 

“No, I can’t see out of my left eye if that’s what you’re pondering.” He actually offered without being asked though while you’d watched each other. “Nothing there but shadow and flares of light that bring on the worst migraines anyway. But that left eye was always sensitive to light. Even from birth.”

Well, then he was suited to being some kind of venomous creature living under a rock after all wasn’t he? But he was clearly trying for your sympathy again too.

And he did scowl a little then, that cloudy eye narrowing in tandem with the other. You still weren’t taking the bait to empathize with him as easily as last night he likely realized. Your hormones and desire for him more under control now….mostly.

“But this is obviously a secret you’re now obligated to keep as well, love.” He warned instead. “Being a half blind warlord doesn’t pack quite as much of a threat now does it?”

“I’d bet it just makes you that much meaner actually.” You quipped in return.

His scowl upturned a bit there, a smirk beginning as he didn’t entirely disagree. “Sometimes.”

And really, you would have been fine to leave each other alone from there. An armistice to just lay in Doflamingo’s arms as a lazy morning like you hadn’t had from anyone in much too long. 

With Kuzan the last time…and you supposed it really had to be the last time now, he’d been too drunk. Rolling away from you even hours before it was already time to be back up and in uniform.

And with Smoker, even before the breakup he’d been away from you for months. Your last physical time together, actually having been only a quickie in the bathroom of a damned bar. Just a port town both your ships had been in at the same time. 

Hardly romantic as you’d been bitching at him not to get ashes in your hair as he’d hiked up your skirt from behind and still not put out those fucking cigars regardless. Thrusting into you just long enough for him to cum, and then he’d been done.

No talk of missing you. No lingering kiss or hold at all. Just a man who’d been alone on a boat for too long and needed something to put it in.

You really should have realized his waning interest in you sooner. You and Smoker hadn’t been much more than friends with benefits by the end, had you? And apparently even that had been too much for him to maintain.

It still pissed you off really. How quickly Smoker had just turned and cut you out when you’d thought it had been more than just sex.

“The fuck are you thinking about now?” Doflamingo interrupted as your eyes flitted back to him in surprise.

Had you been showing that past regret on your face? Hell.

And the pirate was indeed watching you with full judgement.

“It’s just been a while since I’ve gotten to stay with anyone. I don’t know.” You certainly tried to stay non specific there. You couldn’t think of any quicker way to violence than to confess to Donquixote Doflamingo of thinking of another man while in his bed beside him.

But thankfully, he didn’t press this time. Seemingly a bit more interested in the handful of your ass that he was then cupping.

“Well you didn’t slit my throat in my sleep. So I suppose I’ll let you stay again tonight…” He taunted a little, but still sounding somewhat lazy as you remained in his grip.

“Because I’m a sailor, not an assassin.” You replied though, a bit offended at that insinuation before you could even help it.

And he did grin again then. “Oh, I’m well aware. Tsuru’s little protege. You two and your pitiful ethics. But…that predictable nature of yours makes this rare privilege possible for you. You think I’d let a fellow pirate curl up to me like this?” 

And there was a look in his eye then that absolutely said he was referring to someone specifically as his words kept on. “My peers may know how to fuck well enough, but we’d kill each other sooner than touch again after the copulating was done. Too much ego between us to make it even one night without murderous intent rearing up.”

“Hate fucking you mean?” You asked, and you didn’t know why you were encouraging him. He’d talk about these crazy things and you’d just start to answer sometimes. 

“Exactly! All lust, no trust.” And he did seem amused, both at your response and his own little rhyme there. 

“But tell me, marine.” And now those wandering fingers were roaming your inner thighs as his eye looked more curious. “What would you really call this instead? You and I?”

And your nervousness was back. His focus so fully on you then. 

“I don’t know.” You said honestly.

“Let’s think about that then.” He said, and you were seeing more of his teeth. That smile that never resembled anything close to friendly.

“Did you like it when I walked you around in public yesterday?” He asked next. “…when I called you my woman in front of those scurrying mice at the store?”

And his voice was dropping too. His fingers gripping you harder in tandem.

“It made you wet didn’t it?” He breathed through that cruel smile. “Because you want so badly to belong to someone.”

Which, that tone only made you think that he must finally be awake enough to start feeling amorous all over again. But those devilish eyes were still thinking, considering deeper things once more.

“I liked the way it felt too.” He said abruptly. “I’ve been thinking of what it’d be like to have you to come back to each night…”

Your lips couldn’t help but part a little again at that when his thumb ran across them. Yet he kept talking, kept suggesting.

“You’re already a captain after all. I’ve no doubt that the rank of commodore will soon follow. And you’ll have your own ship and crew by then, won’t you darling?”

His face had moved in closer to you again then, lips ghosting along your jawline. Hungry little bites made along it, urging you to tilt your head back as he finished his thought. “You do realize that that ship will have to have Dressrosa as its home port, don’t you? I don’t think I’ll be able to accept anything less now…” 

Of course you made a sound somewhere between disbelief and disagreement at those new words. But he didn’t care. His tongue was running wet across your pulse point before he bit down abruptly.

And the palm of your hand was against his cheek just as fast to push him off.

You felt his resulting laugh more than you heard it before he did pull back. Yet only enough for him to outright lick your still open palm.

Which earned another look of equal surprise and bewilderment from you as you tried to wipe that spit back away immediately onto the bedding. 

“And how the hell would that work?” You did ask irritably though, still clearly flustered by his new ideas. “There’s no marine base in Dressrosa. A home port is where the crew members’ families live. Where we stay between assignments and resupply, and-”

“Yes, it’d be the perfect country for raising a family, wouldn’t it?” His voice was so smooth again at that, unnerving almost as it caught you a little further off guard.

He was stroking you idly again too, down your side and over your hip. “Your subordinates would be kissing your feet to get to live in the comparative paradise of Dressrosan casitas instead of those utilitarian marine barracks they’d find everywhere else.” 

“It takes a lot of crew to fully man one of our ships.” You didn’t know why your body was trying to tense again at this subject. Or why you were trying to fight illogical emotions with logical words at all. “That’s not an amount of housing that can just pop up overnight.”

“I’m their fucking king…we’ll designate whatever space I say to. And it’d all be free obviously. Your miserly accountants at HQ could never say no to that.”

“Nothing is free.” You quickly replied. 

And Doflamingo did smile again there. Like a magician conceding that his current audience was more cynical than most. You were still seeing some truth even behind the attractive show.

“Well…you’d be the real payment of course.” He murmured, beginning to look a bit more hungry again.

“Funny.” You tried to deflect. 

“I’m serious.” He contended. And you could feel his hips shift, a rather hard something now poking against your stomach yet again.

“You actually want me to live in Dressrosa?” It felt like a last ditch effort to try snd show him how insane those words really could sound when strung together. 

“Oh no, love. That alone wouldn’t be enough.” And he’d moved again so that long cock of his was now sliding back and forth against your abdomen.

And you looked at him in some confusion. All the while seeing that lust begin to bud all over again in his handsome face.

“Your crew would live in Dressrosa. But you would live in my palace. In my bed. Just like this.”

And he flung the blankets back with those words, before he’d rolled the two of you so that you were fully beneath him once more.

You could see how flushed with blood that throbbing cock already was then, an enlarged vein running beneath it as he’d pulled that lube bottle back into his hand via string.

“Every morning while your ship was in port, woman. This could be us.” He promised even as he was then stroking that lube back over his shaft and the broad head of it. “You could set sail and go ruin as many other pirates as you’d wish…crush my competitors. And then come home, back to me at the end of each voyage. Back to your king.” 

You heard that resealed lube bottle clank against the nightstand as he hadn’t even had the patience to set it back down. Him just tossing it before he grabbed you behind the knees and spread your legs while lifting them up simultaneously.

Your ankles were in the air and then pressed against his torso before he shoved that wet cock back inside of you.

It was always painful. And always amazing too as you saw him smile down at your pitiful expression. Just a woman hopelessly conquered, aroused, and desperate all at once for this ruthless man.

You didn’t care about a future that had yet to be. Whatever schemes and plans he had for you…there was no point of being afraid of what wasn’t yet here.

This stretching and heat and need were what was real. Just blooming all over again and pushing everything else from your mind as you finally found the way to beg.

“Fuck me, Doffy….please.” You whined when he’d yet to begin thrusting at all after that first penetration.

He’d been too busy watching you writhe as you’d stretched for him once more.

And the growl that came from him in return to your plea was nothing short of hedonistic. “Of course. Of fucking course, love. Open up and take me…on two conditions.”

You tried to focus, but even as those damnable eyes of his bid you to heed him, his thumb was now pressing over your clit simultaneously. He rubbed it so perfectly as he tightened that metaphorical snare all at once.

Every prior word, every prior action…he’d been waiting for you to succumb like this.

“I’ll be yours, woman. I’ll even let you come and go from my country. Let you continue with that ‘ambitious justice’ that you’ve so claimed.” The sneer on his face at your particular notion of justice made clear how arbitrary and futile he found the term however.

He did begin to slowly thrust his cock in and out of you too then, dragging it almost to extend each and every tease to all those heated nerve endings inside. “But no one else may have your body this way…not without my full consent. No one.”

His finger was still massaging your clit incessantly with each new word, but not letting your own hips buck up into him as they so badly wanted to. He only pinned you even harder into the mattress, almost impatient for you to comply as he gave the final rule. 

“And you will always return home to me.” There was no smile then. This was absolutely all or none. “Your only true home will be wherever I am.” 

And for the very first time, you may have preferred the red glasses to have been back on his face to cover him. Because that look in his eyes was abruptly unforgiving. But…especially in the wounded left eye actually.

He’d admitted that eye had always been abnormal and sensitive from birth. Even from before whatever incident had later blinded it.

But only in the daylight, and only with it focused on you that dangerously could you now see that larger iris’ outline in full. Its original deep red hazed over to almost a pink beneath the white scar tissue.

And something inside that blinded eye was fully primal. Mad. It was separate of the rest of him in a way you couldn’t explain in that moment. You were afraid of it.

“Doffy…” You tried to call him back to you.

“Swear to me.” He hissed just as quickly though. That pressure from his hand on your clit becoming painful.

He was absolutely hurting you now. Your body caught under his weight as well as he stayed buried as deeply inside of you as he could go. The head of him was pressed hard against your cervix yet again.

You were cornered and you knew it. And even as frightening as that could suddenly be, it didn’t kill your desire for him. 

He was absolutely a monster. 

But he was still the only thing you kept thinking about. The only one you kept needing. You’d keep coming back to him anyway, as stupid as you were, wouldn’t you? Because everyone else kept throwing you away when you’d tried to do better. 

You’d tried to fall in love with marines, and felt like a ship smashed against the rocks both times. Wouldn’t it be insane of you to just keep chasing that same honorable kind of man like Kuzan or Smoker, only to find that you weren’t an honorable enough woman for either of them to ever keep?

“Then what would I be to you?” You pleaded within the pain. Your clit stinging, your cervix aching. “Just your mistress? Your concubine?” Your eyes were starting to sting too. Were you no better than your own brothel working mother in the end? The most you’d ever have in lieu of actual love was just the sexual fixations of a dangerous man?

Yet he spoke these new words into existence and everything else went silent. 

“You would be my wife.”

You weren’t breathing, the bed wasn’t creaking. Every muscle on you both was frozen. Just his unnatural eyes staring into yours.

“You can’t mean that.” Your brain felt utterly useless now. Any words just reflex, completely helpless and defeated really.

“Waiting any longer is only for the indecisive. Once I know what I want…why would I leave it for anyone else to take?” And the tone had changed yet again. His thumb was now moving only in gentle circles on your clit once more.

You spread your legs a little more in reflex. Your goddamned body so confused.

“Say yes.” He insisted still though, even as he started to pump his hips again. 

All the pain in you was being covered up again by the pleasure he now allowed.

You had no choice. You knew you’d be absolutely mauled if you denied him now. Even with every haki trick you had, you may not even make it out alive from this room, as passionate as he clearly was on having your submission.

So you nodded, feeling like you’d just ceded a piece of your own soul to the being above you. “I accept.”

“No. Swear to me instead.” Those same words came again in immediate reply. But this time was different. There was that very faintest hint of anxiety in the Heavenly Demon’s voice. Like a fisherman seeing the catch of his life teetering on that edge of either fully entering or escaping the net.

“I swear, Doflamingo. I’ll have no one else, and I’ll return to you after every voyage. I’ll even be your wife if I can still remain a marine.”

And were you crazy for still trying to add your own stipulation at the end there?

Yes, of course you were. But you’d seen the way he was hanging on your every word then. Your heart had still had that touch of bravery left to rise at the final moment.

And it worked. You saw his smile instantly reform. But it seemed involuntary, disbelieving almost, and entirely nervous on his face. “You can still be both. I have pull higher than even Sengoku…they can’t terminate you. Can’t demote you. You can be the first royal of modern times still in active service…”

And he was starting to laugh too. He didn’t know what to do with himself as it really began to sink in.

“My queen…” he purred, his hips picking up the pace as the bed started creaking once more. “A warrior queen of the sea at that…fuck, it’s going to be so goddamned fun.”

And he was grinding your g-spot for all he was worth soon enough. Having you moaning for him as he reveled in this sudden and wholly unexpected victory.

You couldn’t think about it much more though. Not as your toes curled and your back arched beneath the now gleeful devil. 

It was utterly insane. Him, you, all of it. There was just nothing else that could be done in this moment to save either of you.

———————————

The rest of the daylight hours had been a haze of more fucking, more alcohol, more just being together frankly. Lazing around that beautiful villa together with no one to disturb you. You’d never seen Doflamingo in such a good mood.

At some point you finally had gotten into the shower together though. Which had resulted in more games in the hot steam. You’d gotten pinned against that lovely tile mosaic in the bathroom as he’d actually gotten on his knees to eat you out. Like a starving man who’d never have or want anything else.

It was a hell of a day.

But by the time the sun had set again, you felt like he was missing the attention of everyone else too. He wanted to show you off and parade the both of you to the envy of the other elites.

He wanted to go to the carnival ball.

And what were you supposed to do but entertain him? He had been almost kind to you ever since your agreement this morning. You knew it couldn’t last. Something was bound to set him off again.

But until then, you could do your best to enjoy this rather affectionate warlord that he was currently being.

So you went with him. In the dress he chose for you, in the shoes he chose for you. Your arm around his as you’d gone back out onto the gaslit streets together.

The carnival masks were back on as well. His red one, and your black one. He was in a different suit tonight though. A red one with a black under vest and shirt.

It reminded you even more of the one he’d used to favor in the North Blue. But it was a bit more modern cut, a slightly different shade. 

And still you caught yourself staring at him at times. The way he carried himself, the way he smirked at you as he always had to stay in some form of physical contact with you.

He was right in the way you loved the attention. But was he right to say that you did wish to belong to someone? 

It looked like you were going to find out. Unless he got tired of you before he went through with this whole Dressrosa as your home port plan.

Gods, you still had no idea what to really think, or how any of it could even work. So you kept trying to live in the moment at least as you’d ended up in the biggest ballroom you’d ever seen.

Royalty and nobility were all around while musicians in tuxedos played more songs Doflamingo knew and you did not.

“Who taught you how to dance anyway?” You had finally asked him as he lead you in another slow spin. Him somehow keeping time to the music even better than all the other couples you were trying to imitate around you.

You weren’t as clumsy as you’d been in the street the day before at least. But it was still far from intuitive to you, though you were trying.

“My mother taught me.” He answered, no real hesitation either that time.

But the way his mouth was downturned slightly, you were quite certain that woman was also no longer alive. Though you supposed rarely would anyone with a loving family feel a need to set out on a life of crime anyway. 

You certainly hadn’t had a real maternal figure until you’d met Tsuru. Your own mother had been far too young, and just trying to survive herself. There’d been no room for you really.

“She sounds interesting. Swan owner, dancer…” You dared to continue that topic though. Hoping maybe his good mood was still enough to allow you to pry into him a little more.

After all you’d promised him this morning, that seemed more than fair to know a bit more about the man you’d just tied yourself to.

But then again, this particular man was hardly known for his fairness.

Yet with your hand tightly in his as the violins continued, he did reply. With more than expected actually. “No. She wasn’t interesting at all really. Quiet. Submissive. Wholly fragile and quickly gone…” But the somber tone in his voice still belied more regret than just those plain words. “Like taking a rose from a greenhouse and expecting it to survive in the mud outside with the weeds. Of course she couldn’t do it. She passed away when I was eight.”

Saying sorry would be too pointless. You hated useless platitudes like that. So you wouldn’t do it yourself.

“Was that still in the North Blue then? Is that your home sea?” You asked carefully instead. It should have been a harmless, neutral question really.

But you saw Doflamingo’s chest move as he took in a larger breath.

“I know you’ll figure it out eventually…and yet, we’re having a nice night aren’t we? It’s been an excellent day actually. Is this really what you want to know right now, love?”

And of course you couldn’t understand the change from such a simple question as the opaque lenses in that carnival mask were then looking down from above you.

When the current song ended, he’d led you back away from the dance floor as well.

There were small circular tables all over with flowing table cloths. Wait staff moved effortlessly between them, taking food and drink orders from whoever may wave them down.

“Let’s get something to eat and perhaps we can talk a bit more.” He said as his hand moved against the small of your back, guiding you to a table of his choice.

He still wasn’t angry, just guarded.

But you’d already seen his real face now. And you knew what kind of cutthroat pirate he’d been and still was. What else of his past could be that important to him?

And you did let him do the ordering as soon as a waiter had indeed rushed up. Doflamingo was always going to take charge regardless you were finding. Picking your clothes, picking your food too…

You didn’t care right now, though you should have. It was just more control of course. Even as much as you’d already given him of yourself today.

But food was food in this moment. You’d barely eaten today with all the other in bed activities. So you just idly surveyed the room while the waiter explained the current entrees and the chef’s recommended wine pairings to your warlord date. 

It was an old habit of yours maybe. Situational awareness and an idea of who was where, where the exits were, plus the general mood and threat level at any given time when working with a crowd.

Yet here was just a lot of fluff and self serving people putting on displays for one another really. You’d even clocked the father and sons you’d first escorted to this island. They hadn’t recognized you of course. How could they have when they’d never even looked you in the face when on Momonga’s ship? You hadn’t been worth it to them.

The youngest son had spilled wine on his date somehow. She was having a fit, and the father was stepping in with heaps of apologies. She must have been even richer than them then. The fact that there were hierarchies within hierarchies for these people just made it seem all the dumber. 

Such a waste of energy. And you were about to give up watching any of them, bored in their manufactured drama and flamboyance before something else caught your attention.

A group of people were moving against the general grain of everyone else. Stiff and organized, something you recognized immediately as tactical. Two in front, two in back, and one on each side.

You stretched to see better, past the socialites and their petty conversations. 

That group was moving someone in the center of their formation. A young girl actually, certainly no more than ten or so. Her blue ponytail was swishing side to side, even with her body so tense. Her shoulders were hunched defensively as she was being pushed forward with one of the men’s hands clamped down onto her shoulder from behind.

You could see the silent tears in wet streaks down that girl’s face. That terror in her eyes that you’d seen so many times before. You knew exactly the kind of thing that must be happening, even if no one else did as you immediately stood.

——————————

Doflamingo had just been committing to the    fiorentina steak dish and a polenta entree as well for the two of you to sample together when he’d seen you stand.

Belatedly noticed because you’d been on his left. But that spoke of his already increasing trust in you really, letting you guard his blind side even subconsciously. How he’d often keep his officers to his left whenever seated.

Yet that didn’t mean he expected you to actually do anything from that position. He tried to grab your wrist as you’d moved forward. Seeing that tenseness in your body immediately and not understanding it a bit before you’d dodged his touch easily.

The waiter was just as confused and in the way really as Doflamingo stood fully as well. He moved his fingers, ready to stop you if he had to.

“Where the hell are you-“ He started to demand you to explain.

“No time. Stay. I’ll be back.” You said so quickly though. So different and commanding. Before one slightly softer note of, “I promise. I’ll be back.”

And you didn’t even look at him before you’d disappeared, almost in a run then into the crowd. Him left standing at the table, inexplicably hesitating.

You’d told him to do something and he’d actually listened.

He was as dumbfounded as the waiter who now excused themselves just to say they were going to put his order in.

But they didn’t get far.

No one did before the first gunshots rang out.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[xxoxobree]

The Duke’s Promise

Miles Morales x Black!Reader Regency/Bridgerton AU

Dearest reader,

Today is a most important day and for some a frightening one. Today is the day the eligible young ladies of the ton are presented to the Queen herself.

Today was nothing short of chaos, with Catherine, your ladies maid, and her team rushing in and out of your chambers. The air was filled with the sound of fabric rustling and the occasional yelp as your hair was pulled up and back, revealing every feature of your face. The corset tightened around your waist, stealing your breath away, as if it were squeezing out any hesitation that lingered for the special day.

Catherine carefully applied the finishing touches to your makeup, adding a soft peach blush to the apples of your cheeks. She stepped back, a smile of satisfaction on her lips, as she admired her handiwork. "There you are, ma lady, beautiful as ever," she complimented, her voice brimming with warmth and encouragement.

You let out a breath as best as you could, given the constricting corset, and turned slowly to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was a vision of elegance and poise. Catherine had indeed worked her magic, making you look incredible and ready to take on the day. However, beneath that composed exterior, nerves threatened to consume you.

It was your first year being presented to society, a pivotal moment that would shape your future. The weight of expectations pressed upon your shoulders, and thoughts of becoming the dreaded spinster swarmed your mind, making it even harder to breathe. Sensing your distress, Catherine placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sure your dance card will be filled this season, ma lady," she reassured, her voice filled with genuine belief. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you allowed her words to sink in.

Miles on the other hand found himself Miles away from home.. alone, the pressure of his role in society on his shoulders as the old chain that hanged the object of his aggression rattled. Every punch that Miles gave the bag seemed to just fuel his aggression more. Miles dreaded the season every time it came around, the stupid balls, the dreadful mothers that talked non-stop about their eligible daughters. The microscope that seemed to follow him anywhere he went. He gave the bag one last hard punch, dropping his hands, watching it swing.

“Duke Morales, your mother requested you to come home,” he heard one of the servants say. He lifted a hand, letting it be known he heard. He hated being called Duke Morales, but it was his title, one he had been given at the tender age of 11 when his father died unexpectedly. He remembered vividly the years of him and his mother locked away, mourning his beloved father. He hated every tear that left his mother's eyes, the memory of her depression burned into his memory, and Miles swore to himself then, to never marry.

Gonna turn this into a series probably but this is just a little chapter to see if y’all will like and I hope you do ���🏽🤞🏽

Copyright © 2023 xxoxobree. All rights reserved.

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF/ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER TEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: 15+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. Dead bodies - corpses and much blood. JK kills everyone who dares to hurt his princess. MAKES PROMISES TO BE SAFE. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: Finally a small update, guys! I will stop making excuses and will hope you will not kill me for vanishing like every time I promise coming back sooner but still...yeah. I hope you forgive me.

You were standing by the large window.

The castle’s walls seemed to surround you.

The windows let out on a long stretch of fields leading to the border of the woods.

Since your fallen angel left, it has been three hours  since Jungkook disappeared. Three more hours without food; three hours without hearing news or seeing anyone besides the servants running around like little heads in a tornado.

It made you restless.

Your legs started moving before your mind did. The white dress was fluttering behind you while you walked through the corridor.

It’s been three hours.

Three more hours and no updates. Your thoughts were racing and your stomach was growling. But there was nothing you could do, nothing you can say, until Jungkook returns.

As you turned the corner into the hall where the servants and guards resided, you stopped suddenly. Something was wrong.

You frowned.

As you neared the palace exit, a witch-maid stopped you before you can leave further.

“I’m sorry, my queen but the king didn’t allowed you to leave the castle for safety reasons. We still are under attack,”  the female servant said apologetically. “Please return to your chambers.”

She tried to take your hands, which you quickly pushed away.

What were they thinking?

That Jungkook would come back in less than ten minutes?

No. Jungkook wouldn’t. Not now.

He is probably dead. Killed by vampires, maybe. Maybe captured in battle and taken prisoner. What if he got hurt?

No. He’d never let a vampire touch him unless…unless…

You ran outside and searched in every part of the grounds. No sign of him anywhere.

Then why the hell haven’t you heard anything yet?!

‘I’m not letting any vampire near my guard,’ you thought fiercely. ‘And if they do get near my angel, I swear to God...’

Looking up, the sun is barely visible. A thin veil of clouds covering half the sky, dark grey.

There was no sign of any vampire in sight.

Where the heck is everyone if there is attack?!

Tears welled in your eyes as you sat down on the ground and leaned your back against the stone wall of the castle’s exterior. There was a small pond a few meters to your side, a beautiful blue lake reflecting the sky above it. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, casting an eery orange light over everything in the vicinity.

Your heart was beating fast, threatening to burst through your ribcage. Tears stinging your eyelids, you felt your cheeks getting wet.

You wiped your tears off angrily. You are being foolish.

Jungkook wouldn't be dead. He can fight for himself but he knows how much you love him and if something happened to him…

Oh god, please don't let something happen to him. He’s strong but he's too young to die. Please God, let him be okay. Let him survive.

Jungkook’s POV

The sun was setting when Jungkook flew over the woods of his territory with his sword in hand, prepared to defend his home.

As he descended closer, he noticed many vampires fighting against the guards on the other end of the forest clearing.

With the sharp edge of his sword ready to strike, he landed heavily between several vampires, sending them flying to different parts of the field.

His presence was enough to scare most of them away, leaving two vampires with their backs turned towards him who weren’t afraid of him whatsoever.

Without hesitation Jungkook lunged forward with his sword and stabbed one of the vampires in the back with all his force.

His opponent fell, unconscious and bleeding, but still alive.

Jungkook ignored him as he jumped to the other vampire, slashing his blade across his throat before landing behind the first one again to stab him in the back.

Two vampires had surrounded Jungkook.

One with blonde hair, the other with red. They charged at him simultaneously.

Jungkook dodged each of them with ease.

Suddenly, the blood lust filled air vanished.

A cold, piercing sound echoed through the forest.

In a matter of seconds, the second vampire was dead. His eyes staring wide open as if asking for help and pain. The red head also fell lifelessly onto the ground.

Blood flowing from his neck, he didn’t have a chance to scream.

Slicing remaining vampires in half, the blood was the only thing left on him when he finally finished. Seeing his guards dead, he could only  watch them fall and the bodies turn pale and gray, their skin wrinkling and turning into dust.

The other vampires that were still around looked at him with horror and shock.

They wanted to run. They wanted to kill him.

But they couldn’t move, not a single muscle in their bodies dared to move; not even their hearts.

“You’ve been warned,” he snarled,” Attack what’s mine again, you will be taken as my trophies  for all eternity."

The vampires began fleeing after that, screaming in fear and terror.

Jungkook took out the swords he used in the fight, sheathing them neatly once again, before turning to look around.

Death’s  scent was everywhere. Blood was smeared everywhere, along with some pieces of flesh scattered throughout the area.

The bodies of his guards lay sprawled all over the ground. Their faces twisted and bloody, covered in dirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Now since the danger was gone, the only thought on his mind was you.

When he opened his eyes, he could already see you.

You were walking out of the forest, your face pale and frightened.

He didn’t need to look at you to know that the blood from these deaths must have affected you greatly. As if sensing him, your eyes met his, a look of complete devastation and sorrow filling their depths.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in fear, looking around the field as though searching for enemy still lurking by but there was no one left alive except for the king himself.

His jaw clenched when he spotted you, knowing you have disobeyed his order for you to stay at the castle. His guards haven’t stopped you from leaving and now you’re here, in the middle of the battlefield which is no place for someone like you.

Looking like an angel in a white dress, Jungkook looked ready to kill again when you slowly approached  him.

The wind was playing with his raven hair, dancing through his bangs and causing small droplets of sweat to roll down his body.

He looked like a predator waiting for its prey to come close and bite it.

Your gaze flickered between the corpses laid on the ground, their eyes frozen in fear and pain.

Y/n POV

Seeing your angel in the middle of that made you realize how strong he really is.

The blood was on his armor and even his face scarf. His eyes were the only thing holding you steady as you dared to walk forward.

His chest was rising up and down.

“What are you doing here, princess?”  he asked harshly, making your body shiver.

You looked down at the ground, ashamed of yourself.

Why were you so careless? You shouldn’t be here! It’s dangerous. Too dangerous to be out here alone!

How long have you been standing here? Did you hear the screams of vampires earlier? Did you hear them running away?

Did you hear them dying? Did you understand what was happening?

Your hands trembled as you looked at the bodies laying on the floor; lifeless.

“Answer me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess. Why are you here? Answer me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Your heart thumping painfully inside your chest.

After a moment, you answered in a weak voice, “I just wanted to go for a little walk. I lost track of time and ended up here.”

His grip on your chin tightened and his lips curved in anger.

“You’re such a liar, love.”

Before you know, he kneels in front of you. Putting his sword on the ground, he takes your hands in his.

“You shouldn’t be here. What you did was dangerous. How can I protect you when you don’t listen to me? You would have been captured on the way here, possibly killed by those bloodsucking monsters!”

“I’m sorry Jungkook. But I just wanted to make sure no one hurt you. I know you can defend yourself just fine but…”

“It doesn’t stop you from worrying. And I appreciate it very much, but you don’t have to do this. I am stronger than these creatures.”

“But you don’t always have to be. You’ll get attacked by them sooner or later, you know. You won't be able to take them down with a sword on your own. Sooner or later, they'll find you.”

“No they won’t. This forest is protected by powerful magic. My kingdom is safe as long I’m here.” He explained, trying to reassure you.

“But not enough to attack this place?” You inquired quietly.

“Someone tipped me off. That’s why they got inside. No one without my magic permission can go through the barrier of this land. Its separates the human world.”

“So they can still be out there and continue to attack,”  you said bitterly.

“That’s why I must kill them all.” Jungkook declared, determination in his voice.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to escape and fall down your cheeks at any moment.

You quickly wiped away any evidence of your weakness before looking into his eyes with a determined look of your own.

Before you can chicken out, you step closer to him when he is back to standing position. His eyes darken when he notices the movement, his nostrils flaring when your scent washes over with the death smell all over the field.

It was like a flower has bloomed in the middle of the grave, filling his whole being with the sweet fragrance of your happiness and life.

You stood on your tiptoes while he stood on his, looking at him intently in the eyes.

His gaze never wavers. Neither does yours.

Neither of you breaks eye contact until finally you pull him towards you, hooking one finger underneath his mask, playing with the seam of the fabric slowly.

“What are you doing, darling?” His voice is husky, full of desire for you even it was wrong in that moment.

How can you touch him like this after he has slaughtered every vampire? He had blood on his hands and corpses still laid all around you so how come you’re not afraid to touch him?

“Making sure you’re not hurt,” you whisper, lifting his mask to reveal a strong jawline who can cut steel and lips that look tempting yet deadly.

He stares back at you, the intensity in his eyes making you want to drown in his eyes forever. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him tightly, his hand caressing your lower back, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin cloth of your dress.

“You’re making this harder for me, princess. You can’t stay here longer. It’s dangerous,”  he says softly, leaning closer to you, his hot breath fanning your cold skin as he whispers.

"I don’t care.” You say, closing the gap between your lips and pressing them softly onto his.

At first, he tried to push you away.

But the minute you parted your lips to deepen the kiss, he gave up.

As your tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting each other, you wrapped your arms around his neck while he gripped both sides of your waist.

He lifted you easily in his arm and you placed your legs around his hips, holding on tightly when you felt yourself getting dizzy and lightheaded.

Lifting up into the sky, you almost scream when you realize that he has intended to fly you back to the castle. His wings even through the mist shine with the specks of light that peeked from the clouds.

Not daring to look down because of your fear of heights, some minutes later you brace yourself for landing when he flaps his wings to stop his  speed abruptly, causing you to cling onto him like a koala.

When he puts you down gently on your feet, you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Jungkook pulled you in his arms, cradling you close and soothing you as best he could.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t want to startle you like that. I just can’t imagine you walking through that mess.  It must have been terrifying.” He whispered tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, melting at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice calling you baby in that loving way of his, feeling warmth blossom inside your chest.

Feeling safe. Protected.

“You need to stay indoors while I go back to finish the job. Someone still can be lurking in the shadows and watching us so we have to take precautions,”  he says sternly, grabbing the hilt of his sword and taking a few steps backward as he looked behind him.

“Come back to me safe, please.” You pleaded.

He sighed as he turned around, walking towards you again.

He reached out to caress your cheek once more before giving you a soft smile.

“I promise you.”

You nodded as he took off with a flap of his wings. The air surrounding him seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, the wind caressing his skin like a lover as his figure disappears among the thick mist in the distance.

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

🅒 All rights reserved

[muzansfangs]

NSFW ALPHABET — Aizen Sosuke.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader.

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, degradation kink, dirty talk, possessive behavior, spanking, hair pulling, face slapping, spit kink, oral sex (Aizen receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), anal sex, exhibitionism, mention to threesomes and use of restraints.

Plot: : basically, a series of nsfw head canons about Aizen, based on the alphabet.

Format: head canons.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex).

Despite being a cold man, Aizen Sosuke is a sophisticated man. The key word about aftercare is cleaning up. Once you are done, he picks you up and settles you into the bathtub, allowing your body to relax, as you wash away the tiredness along with the sweat and your juices marking your body.

His face is not going to be softer in the aftermath, but he likes to sit behind you in the tub and plant some chaste kisses along your jugular as you enjoy this peaceful moment of tenderness.

Aizen will make sure you feel good and will personally ask his servants to satisfy each and every request you have to feel comfortable. If you are not at his residence, he will simply ask you what you need and, perhaps, he will be gentle enough to cuddle with you in your bed and give you a glass of water.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's).

First and foremost, if Aizen sticks around with you, it is most likely because he has developed an addiction to you and your body. He adores you. He is the type of man that, in the privacy of his bedroom, worships the body of his partner like a preacher.

When it comes to his favorite body part of you he is conflicted between your neck and your ass. Aizen loves kissing the tender flesh of your neck. It is not only because he loves hearing your soft moans as he nibbles at that area, or runs his tongue on it. Surprisingly, it is because he thinks it is a vulnerable part of your body. He could choke the life out of you, or snap your neck like a twig, if he wanted, yet he chooses to kiss you.

Your ass is simply his lustful side trying to take over his rationality. He loves squeezing it, spanking it and watching the way it wiggles, as he takes you from behind.

His own favorite body parts are his hands. They are large, calloused, a source of power: they are the hands that hold swords, but also caress your body each and every night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically).

He does not really like to get his partner and his own body messy and sticky. Therefore, he is always going to release his seed into you. He does not really care where, all it matters is that your body has to absorb it. Yet, he might have a little preference.

Sosuke is truly into making you swallow his cum. Finishing into your mouth grants him an amount of pleasure and satisfaction without precedents.

Do not disappoint him and let this man stare down at you with an unnerving expression plastered over his face. He would probably be the type to groan in pleasure and watch you swallow, as an harsh command, sounding like a threat, left his lips “Do not let a single drop go to waste”.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

This man has a thing for mirror sex. Why? It is pretty much self-explenatory. He loves to admire your bodies pressed against each other as you allow lust to envelope you. Yet, he just cannot resist watching the way you moan for him, the way you blush and the lewd faces you make, as he takes you like that.

He likes to grip your hair and force you to watch your reflections in the mirror, because you need to see the way he can easily break you and carve into your mind the picture of him dominating you to exhaustion. It is another reminder for you that no one could ever do the same thing to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Being an handsome and manipulative man, Aizen has a lot of experience and he definitely knows what he is doing. He can make you scream in pleasure and for help to the point where you lose yourself and your senses seem to be completely under his control. Sometimes, it is hard to understand if he is involving his Zanpakuto into it. It feels unreal, too good to be true.

He has also been alone for a long time now. Do not be that surprised. He knows how to break you and put you back together.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This man does not stick to one position during your sessions. He loves to manhandle you, watch you unravel in pure ecstasy before his brown chocolate eyes and switch positions every now and then. His favorite ones are probably missionary and doggy, but he definitely do not disdain reverse cowgirl.

As for missionary, having you underneath him grants him the chance to look you straight in the eyes as he ruins you. He draws so much pleasure in wrapping his hand around your neck and choking you, as he thrusts into you to chase his orgasm. You look so pathetic and adorable as you scream his name at his face. Also, he can grasp your thighs and drape your legs over his shoulders to push even deeper into you. Bitemarks and dirty talk are a must.

What man does not have a thing for doggy? It is degrading, animalistic and it makes him feel even more in control of your body. Your head is probably going to be pushed onto the pillow as he snaps his hips back and forth into you. The lewd sounds of skin against skin make you feel like a whore and he smirks at that thought.

The reverse cowgirl is the cherry on top. He always have to be in control and if you simply rode him, it would somehow give you the chance to take the lead. He cannot allow that. His chiseled abs and toned chest pressed against your back, his shaft deep into you and his mouth close to your ear are such an addiction. If you whimper too much, he will wrap one hand around your neck and tighten his grip around your waist with the other. You cannot escape him, get that insidr your head.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.).

Aizen has mastered a poker face you could never crack in any way. Even when he indulges in steamy activities with you, he is not going to joke or fool around. He simply focuses his whole attention on you and tries to break you through his sadistic grins and dirty remarks. Do not expect anything else from him. This is all you are going to get.

Maybe, a dark chuckle might erupt from his throat as he watches you crumble on the bed drained by his ministrations. He loves the way you always let him take the lead. Your submission tickles his ego and amuses him quite a bit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He loves to he cleaned and tidy. Yet, he does not shave completely as he wants some part of his masculinity to still be present. The carpet matches the drapes but they hair are well trimmed, groomed and short.

The V line has short dark brown trail of hair leading down to his groin and, honestly, when he ambles around the room wearing only his boxers, it is hard not to drool on the carpet.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Aizen Sosuke does not care about anyone, except for you. Despite his algid personality, he deeply cares about you. Intimacy is a must and it is shown through his actions and glances. On some softer words slipping his lips as he reassures and you during your times together.

“You are doing amazing” he whispers as you wince for a slight sting of pain, his tip now kissing your cervix as he grants you some time to adjust to his size.

It might sound corny for someone like him, and he watch himself from talking about it, but he loves holding your hands during the act.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never. Really. If you are not around, he would rather fight back his carnal urges instead of getting his own hands dirty. He believes it is not his job to drag himself to the edge and he can perfectly live without masturbating anyway. He is also too self-assured and firmly believes he could have anyone at any given time to get him rid of his biological necessities.

He is the type of man who simply likes to have a complete intercourse instead of pleasuring himself alone. If he cannot really resist anymore and you two cannot have a moment of intimacy due to the lack of time, then he would just ask you to do it for him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks).

This man has a lot of kinks. Most of them aim to make you bend the knee, ensure his dominance over you and make you abandon yourself to him. Aizen is into spanking and, sometimes, even face slapping. It is not like he is going to leave you battered, or badly beaten up. He would never go that far, not when he has come to terms with the fact that he loves you.

He likes to leave some handprints on your arses, though. His hands are large and they are a source of power for him. Using them to tame you is absolutely great. It is a good way to assert dominance too, after all.

The former Captain of the Fifth Division is into choking too. When he feels particularly hungry for you, he would even venture into spitting into your mouth as your lips were parted for gasping for air. He wants you to be his and his alone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In the privacy of his bedroom, or anywhere at your place. He does not really mind having his way with you in your residence in the world of the livings. No one will bother him there anyway. Beside your bedroom, he likes to bend you over the kitchen counter. It gives him a feeling of domestic affection, something he is not that used to.

Back in his residence, he does not mind having you riding him on his throne. Anyone could walk in, that is indeed true, but he gets kind of aroused at the thought of his subordinates seeing you in such a vulnerable state on his lap. They can watch, but they cannot touch you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Wear some black laced lingerie and a red lipstick and you are going to get him on his knees. Not quite literally, because he would never kneel for anyone, but you will definitely get him into the right mood.

Aizen loves seeing you in short dresses that expose your thighs and, probably, high heels do something to him too. Elegance, sensuality, the idea of ruining you and your pretty attire along with your body. That is what turns him on.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Threesomes. Aizen Sosuke does not share. Once he has set his eyes on you and marked you as his property, he is not going to let anyone else enjoy your body and presence, for what can matter. He is possessive, jealous, almost toxic. Whenever you mention the possibility of allowing a third person to join you in the privacy of your bedroom, he does not hesitate to show you how deeply offended he is by your suggestion.

Marks, bruises and punishments are his love language. Is he not enough for you? Do you want more than what he is giving you? That is perfectly fine by him. He will show you that no one could ever pleasure you like he does.

You will probably not be able to sit and walk properly for a few days once he is done with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He has a preference, of course. Aizen would rather sit on his throne and watch you kneel before him, like a worshipper, as you twirl your tongue around his shaft. Suck him off. He does not even need to ask for it. When he walks into the room and sits down, his legs parted enough for you to take on your place on the floor, at his feet, you immediately drop to your knees and bob your head up and down for him.

His grip on your hair is so tight you may think he is surely going to tear them off of your scalp, but as you claw at his thigh, he might loosen it a bit.

He rarely blesses you with his tongue. He loves your taste, actually, yet he is the king. The king does not get down and dirty. Not even for his queen, unless it is a special occasion.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Aizen is rough, but sensual. He loves to take his time with you. Tearing your sanity and dignity apart is an art. According to him, it is like pouring the finest wine into a goblet and sip on it slowly to make sure he can savour and catch all of your nuances. There is no need to rush.

He will thrust into you with a slow and steady pace, but roughly. The yelps and moans falling your parted lips are such a heavenly sight to behold and he definitely loves to brush his thumb on your lower lip, before sliding it into your mouth as he watches your face contort into pleasure.

“What a masterpiece” he whispers, grunting as he ravels into you with a particularly brutal thrust.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is not into quickies at all. He loathes them. The rare times he would opt for them are when you feel particularly needy as beg him to have some fun together. He thinks quickies are not pleasurable at all for you two. He is used to last for hours and take it slow.

Honestly, he is the type to fuck you during a meeting with the Arrancar instead of cornering you in a dark alley. He wants things to be done a certain kind of way.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Once you have ventured further into your relationship, he will be more willing to take risks and experiment. Honestly, you do not have to introduce him to anything. Aizen is a man of culture, a man who loves to be informed of the latest trends and practices.

There is nearly nothing you two have not tried. Sometimes, he loves to involve Kyoka Suigetsu into your intimacy to make you believe there someone you know watching you judgementally.

The risk he has never cared about from a certain period of time is getting you pregnant. He would be absolutely glad to make you carry his child. Condoms are long forgotten into a drawer of a nightstand.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?).

If it depended solely on him and his stamina, your spine would be broken. Aizen could go for about five or six rounds without taking a break. Yet, he has to restrain himself. He is a cold, selfish man but he knows he could truly cause you damages and that is not something he wishes.

He will therefore settle for two, three rounds at maximum and if you are still in a good condition for keep on going. He cares about your well-being. He does not really have much trouble in taking them slow and he is perfectly capable of controlling his orgasm to prolong your pleasure. Sitting down after your intercourses is a pain in the ass. Quite literally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?).

He knows about the existence of toys and he owns some of them, but they are not penetrative at all. He owns blindfolds, ropes and crops he sometimes enjoys to involve into your sexual adventures.

He is a dominant man, thus making him drawn to use them on you. He loves to tie you up on the bedposts of your shared bed and push you to the edge over and over again. Crumble at his feet, chant his name like a holy mantra and he will make sure you will be rewarded. He is a sadist. End of discussion.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most pleasurable tortures come from a relationship with Aizen Sosuke. He will have no mercy. Tears might stream down your cheeks as you are laying drained, overstimulated, underneath him but he will continue to tease you until he is satisfied.

Beg him, he loves to hear you begging him to stop. It will not help you out of it, though. He likes to watch your body respond to his touches, to his deft fingers and sinful, but skilled tongue.

Also, pray the Gods for him not to be upset after a meeting. He will take all of his anger and frustration out on your writhing body. Mercy is a privilege and you will certainly not get it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aizen is not that vocal. Maybe, he lets out some louder, deep moans when he reaches his climax, but throughout the session he will just grunt lowly, erotically in your ear. You will feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he is deep into your core, whispering some dirty praises on how much of a good girl you are, or about your skills when you give him head.

“I will fuck you so good you will be ruined for any man you will have after me” he whispers in your ear, thrusting up into you with swift snaps of his hips. Little do you know he is going to be the last man you will ever have. Aizen will kill anyone who dares to even think about you and, probably, he would kill you too if you dared to betray him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The wild card is truly wild. Expect this man to ask for anal. The feeling of pure domain over your mind and body he experiences through it makes him go feral. He would not force you to agree in it, but he would definitely be the type to talk you into giving it, at least, a try.

Being a master manipulator, it is almost impossible to deny him his request.

He, however, enjoys this only with you. His partner, his life companion, his love. He would be gentle at first, making sure you are relaxed to make the deed good for the both of you. Once you are prepared enough, do not expect him to be merciful though.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Under his boxers, this man is impressive. Almost too painful to take and he is proud about it. You will never get used to his size, but he knows you struggle at first and he might give you some time to adjust to his shaft.

Aizen is a grower. When he is soft he is about 8 inches long. As he gets hard he reaches around 10 inches. The girth is considerable and he loves to watch your face contort in a slightly painful expression as he slide into you inch by inch.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?).

It can vary, but you could say it is relatively high. During stressful periods, Aizen believes having sex is a good therapeutic way to steam off some tension. It is more of a duty and a routine for him, although he is absolutely driven by his lust for you.

When he is just having some quality time with you, it is purely based on his affection. It is a good way to satisfy his thirst for you and even inure his darling to him.

Since you two became a thing, he would never lose his chance to bend you over the desk and rail you until you are too exhausted to even moan.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards).

Sleep is a privilege for him. Aizen is restless, really. He probably barely gets some rest anyway, therefore he indulges into his bedroom for quite a bit afterwards. Once he is done cleaning you and himself up, he straight forward goes back to his bed and, draping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, he falls asleep.

Do not expect much of a giver, he just wants you to know that he is by your side and that you should get some rest too. He has chosen you, after all. He won’t let his darling sleep without feeling safe.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! I have been finally able to post this one. I have an unhealthy obsession for Aizen and I think it shows… However, as per usual, I always try to be as detatched as possible from my fantasy and analyze the character basing purely on his personality, while writing. I hope you enjoyed it! Next to come will be the NSFW alphabet of Urahara. If you want to be tagged, comment below. Likes, comments and re-posts are truly appreciated.

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @stygianoir @dcmarvelblog @xxxhorse-chanxxx @electronicwitchcollection

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // TWO

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You arrive at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls and meet your roommate.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: oc warning from this chapter onwards ig?? i had to make up students for the fire academy so if you don’t like that then idk what to tell you except that you should probably read something else 😔 but even though jia-li and kaho are not canon characters their brothers are!! we will meet them eventually HAHA although i’m sure some of you might be able to guess who they are based on that

To His Royal Highness The Prince,

I have arrived at the Academy safely. Ty Lee and I were given leave from classes today, to allow us to acclimate to the environment of the school, but tomorrow, we will join the others in our year for lessons. I promise that I will work hard, so that Your Highness’s good name is not sullied by poor performance on my part.

If it does not trouble Your Highness greatly, and if it is not presumptuous of me to make a request like this, please feed Bian a treat when she reaches the palace. She is working hard, too.

Ever Your Highness’s humble and obedient servant, Ursa

P.S. Regretfully, I must report that I have still regained nothing in the way of my memories.

The messenger hawk that Prince Zuko had given you was a beautiful animal, almost draconian in appearance, with eyes like amber and a queenly crest of russet feathers. She had an enormous wingspan and talons so large that if you handed her a scroll, she would be able to take it between them and then fly away without waiting for you to strap it to her back.

“Woah, so pretty!” Ty Lee said as the Royal Falconer wheeled the caged bird into your room, vocalizing your exact thoughts at seeing the magnificent hawk. “I’ve never seen one so big.”

“Pretty’s one word for it,” the falconer said, shaking his head. “She’s likely the finest bird Agni’s ever seen. Actually, she was meant to be a coronation gift for Prince Zuko, but he came to the aviary the other day and told me to give her to you.”

You were so enraptured by the hawk that you almost did not notice what the man had said, but when his words registered, you immediately straightened your back and gave him an incredulous look.

“This bird was meant to be the prince’s?” you said.

“She was, but like I said, she’s yours now,” the falconer said. “By order of that very prince himself.”

You bit your tongue, feeling equal parts embarrassed and guilty about the gift. Although you knew he was doing it for his own reasons, you still thought it was strange for Prince Zuko to be paying so much attention to you. Even if he had saved you, what cause was there to give you such a grand bird? A normal one would’ve been fine. A smaller, more average messenger hawk was probably more fitting for who you were, so why instead was the finest bird Agni had ever seen sitting before you?

“Does she have a name?” you said.

“We don’t name the hawks,” the falconer said. “You’re her owner now, though, so if you want to, you can.”

You thought about it for a second. “Bian.”

The falconer wrinkled his nose, giving Bian a look that she ignored entirely, too busy preening her feathers to notice. You waited for him to say something, anything, but it took him a while before he did.

“It’s an interesting name,” he said.

“Is something wrong with it?” you said. “I don’t know why I chose it. I can change it, if you’d like.”

“It’s not my place to be demanding you change your own hawk’s name,” he said, bowing at you.

“Wait,” you said. “Before you leave — must I keep her caged all of the time?”

“It’s not really common for anyone to do otherwise,” the falconer said. “But I suppose she won’t go anywhere unless you tell her to, so it’s fine if you let her out.”

Although he was obviously hinting that you should not do it, you leaned over and unlatched the door to Bian’s cage. You weren’t sure why, but something about seeing her trapped like that made you feel claustrophobic yourself, like the metal bars were encroaching on your neck, like it was your flight which was restricted.

Bian did not move for a bit, and then hesitantly, she peeked her head out of the door. When she realized that she was free, that the door was open, she flapped her wings, and with a great gust of wind, she took off and perched on your windowsill.

“They should know how to take care of her at the school, since most students bring their own messenger hawks, so you won’t have to worry about her there,” the falconer said. “And if you ever come to the palace again, you can leave her with me.”

“As you say, sir,” you said. “I don’t know enough about messenger hawks and their care or keeping, so I will defer to your expertise when it comes down to it.”

“Good,” he said. “Have a nice day, Miss Ursa.”

“And you as well,” you said, waving at him before racing to the windowsill to admire the roosting Bian. She peered at you suspiciously, but when you raised your fingers and rested them on the space between her eyes, she did not so much as snap her beak at you.

“Be careful!” Ty Lee said. “Messenger hawks usually aren’t that friendly. They’re a postal service, not pets.”

“It’s alright,” you said, stroking Bian’s head, smiling as she closed her eyes and crooned at you. “I think she’s different. Well, at least, I don’t think she’ll bite me or anything like that. She’s nice.”

“If you say so,” Ty Lee said. “Though I think I will stay far away, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s your prerogative,” you said. “But I’m not putting her back in that cage, so don’t expect that.”

“Sure, I won’t! Anyways, she’ll live in the school’s aviary while we’re there, so it’s not a big deal,” she said.

“Oh, true,” you said. “Do you think they’ll let me visit her still?”

“They wouldn’t stop you. How else would you send letters? Although, I can’t really understand why Zuko even gave you a hawk in the first place. Who are you going to be writing to?” she said, picking her bag in one hand and yours in the other.

“I think he wanted me to write to him,” you said, whistling at Bian, who whistled back before she realized you were actually calling her, at which she rustled herself alert. “Bian, do you know where the Royal Fire Academy is? That’s where we’re going. You can either come with us or fly there on your own.”

Bian cocked her head before diving back into her cage, landing on the perch and tucking her head under her wing. You glanced at Ty Lee, who shrugged, obviously as confused as you were.

“I guess I won’t close the door, but if she wants to be in there of her own volition, then I can’t take the decision from her,” you said.

“At least it’ll be easier to take her to the academy,” Ty Lee said. “Speaking of which, we should hurry up and go — I think the carriage driver is waiting for us.”

The carriage was covered in gold and brandished with the emblem of the Fire Nation. A dragon moose was in the harness, dozing off, its ears drooping lazily as it napped. The driver himself was in a similar state, resting his chin in his hands, his hat low over his head to protect him from the sun.

“Sorry we’re so late!” Ty Lee chirped at him. He awoke in a flurry of flailing limbs, looking around wildly before letting out a deep breath when he noticed that it was just you and Ty Lee. “The falconer came to give Ursa a messenger hawk, so that took a bit of time, but we’re here now!”

“It’s not an issue,” the driver said, patting the dragon moose on the rump and swinging off his bench, taking the bags from Ty Lee’s hands. She relinquished them easily, watching as he put them under your seats in the carriage, and then she turned to you.

“Give him Bian’s cage, so that he can put her in there as well,” she said.

“He won’t put her under the seat, right?” you fretted, gripping the bars of the open cage.

“Of course not, silly! He’ll just put her on the carriage floor or something, and we’ll have to sit around her,” she said.

“Okay, if you say so,” you said. “Sir Driver, please take the utmost of care with Bian when you put her away.”

“You don’t have to be that formal with him,” Ty Lee whispered to you as the driver gave you a strange look before grabbing Bian’s cage, though he did gentle his movements when you frowned at how rough he was being. “He’s just a driver.”

“Sorry,” you whispered back. “I would just feel bad if I didn’t address him politely.”

“They’re used to it,” she said, leaping into the carriage once the driver had left and extending her hand out to you to help you in. You grabbed onto it and let her pull you in beside her. Bian squawked indignantly when you narrowly avoided kicking her cage over, and you muttered an apology to her as you sat across from Ty Lee, folding your hands in your lap and crossing your legs at the ankles.

“Is the academy far from here?” you said.

“Not by much. It’s a quick journey, since it’s inside of the volcano as well,” she said.

“Volcano?” you said.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you wouldn’t have known much about that! The Fire Nation’s capital is inside of a dormant volcano, but of course, the entire city isn’t actually located in the main crater. Only the most high-status dwellings and government buildings are here; everything else is on the sides of the volcano, just because there isn’t enough space for them here,” she said.

“The Royal Fire Academy is included in that?” you said.

“It’s where all the children of the Fire Nation elite go to school,” she said. “Naturally, it’d be in here, too!”

“Ah, that’s sensible,” you said, for you hadn’t thought that through until she had mentioned it. In fairness, you also hadn’t known that the inner circle of the Fire Nation was located inside the crater of a dormant volcano, but then again, what could be a greater representation of the nation’s pride than the subjugation of nature’s own version of fire?

“It’s a very beautiful building,” Ty Lee said. “From what I remember, anyways. Nothing’s as beautiful as the palace, but the academy comes close. And the grounds…you’ll love them, Ursa! Even though I didn’t like my time there that much, I still have some good memories of just how amazing the gardens were. I can’t wait to show you around!”

“I can’t wait to see everything,” you said. “Is there a library?”

“Duh,” Ty Lee said. “It’s a school. Of course there’s a library. Do you like reading or something?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember, but I’m sure that I’ll be much behind everyone else, so I’ll probably need to do a lot of catching up so that I can still get good marks. A library is my best bet at finding the information I need,” you said.

“You’re so studious,” Ty Lee said. “I’ve always just thought to myself that as long as I pass, it’s fine!”

“The prince has gone through so much effort to ensure my acceptance in the academy,” you said. “The least I can do for him is prove that it wasn’t a waste.”

Ty Lee beamed at you. “You’re amazing! I bet he’ll be really grateful that you’re so dedicated.”

“It’s good to hear that,” you said. “Besides, maybe it’ll help jog my memory if I read about history and science and other such things. According to Prince Zuko, I was a soldier before he found me, but I doubt he knows anything about my hobbies or preferences, so there’s no telling what might spark something in my mind.”

This was the true reason. Though it wasn’t a lie to say that you wanted to make the prince happy, your own identity was more important to you. The memories of the girl named Ursa, who she had been, who she had loved…you wanted to know all of it. You wanted to know who you were, not in anyone else’s words but in your own.

Ty Lee did not seem to judge you. She only smiled sadly before turning to look out the window, an obvious sign that the conversation was over.

She had been right; the journey to the academy did not take much longer than the duration of your conversation. You were there before you knew it, before you were really prepared for what that meant, but it was irrelevant. Your personal feelings on the matter weren’t important, because this was where you would now spend your time. You were going to be a proper Fire Nation girl, a lady, one who could rejoin society as someone that even a prince might be proud of.

Bian was carted off to the academy’s aviary before you could even think to wish her farewell, but beyond promising yourself you would visit her later, there was nothing you could do about it. That was because a tall, stately woman before you was now commanding all of your attention, her pinched face souring when she saw your plain clothes and meager possessions.

“So you are the Ursa that the prince insisted attend my school,” the woman, who must’ve been the Headmistress, said. “And here we have the infamous dropout of the academy, Ty Lee.”

Something about the Headmistress seemed to cow even the perpetually sunny Ty Lee, for she only ducked her head and folded her hands behind her back in deference.

“Yes, Headmistress,” she said. Following her example, you hoped you were doing it correctly.

“Yes, Headmistress,” you said.

“You two are probably the most sorry students I’ve seen in all my years at this institution,” she said. “You’re lucky that you are who you are and that you know who you know. If it weren’t for the royal family’s interference, then mark my words: you would not be standing here now. Neither of you.”

“Thank you, Headmistress,” Ty Lee said.

“Thank you, Headmistress,” you echoed.

“Luckily, two of our students still don’t have roommates, so there’s at least space for you both to stay. For as long as you can bear to, anyways,” the Headmistress said, the latter part of her statement pointed at Ty Lee, who did not even argue. “Ty Lee, you will room with Kaho, and Ursa, you will be with Jia-Li.”

You had been hoping that you would get to stay with Ty Lee, but there was only so much that you could expect to go your way. Although you had no idea who Jia-Li was, you hoped that she would at least be friendly enough that you could live with her without much complaint.

Ty Lee did not seem optimistic about the proposition of rooming with Kaho. Her sweet face crumpled, but she did not speak up. You wondered what kind of person Kaho could be, if even Ty Lee did not want to live with her.

“Yes, Headmistress,” you said, speaking for the both of you when it became evident that Ty Lee was far too distressed to say anything.

“I will show you to your rooms. You arrived too late to attend today’s classes, so you will be excused, but I expect the both of you to be present tomorrow. At this school, education is our priority, and special admission or not, no one is exempt from this,” the Headmistress said.

“Of course, Headmistress,” you said once again. “I am eager to begin learning.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye before turning away. “Good. Enthusiasm is the first step to success. We’ll see; maybe we can make something halfway respectable out of you after all.”

The room you were to share with Jia-Li had a heavy, plain door, though two placards hung on it, the left emblazoned with the characters of your name, the right with hers. The Headmistress did not even wait for you to enter before marching off with Ty Lee, presumably to where Kaho’s room was.

You opened the door gingerly, cringing back preemptively in case Jia-Li was of an easily startled temperament. When there was no blast of fire in your direction, you stepped in, admiring the small room and getting your first glance at your new roommate.

She had long, silky hair tied in a ponytail with a red ribbon, and her eyes, which were trained on a scroll, were the same color as volcano-glass. The bed on the left of the room was clearly hers, as its blankets were messy instead of neatly made, and she was sitting at the desk by its foot. There were paintings hung on her side of the room, but the side that must’ve been yours was noticeably bare, likely in preparation for your arrival.

“Are you Jia-Li?” you said when she did not look up. She dropped the scroll in her hands and sprang to her feet, her cheeks flushed and her palms clasped together in apology.

“Yes, I am! I’m sorry, I didn’t notice you coming in. Are you Ursa?” she said. You wanted to say no, because you still didn’t feel very much like that was who you were, but you just nodded your head.

“It’s nice to meet you. I think we’re going to be roommates?” you said.

“Yes, they brought your things up just now. It’s nice to meet you, too! My last roommate left after losing an Agni Kai, so I’ve been living on my own for a bit. It’ll be nice to have someone here with me again,” she said.

“Do you get kicked out if you lose an Agni Kai?” you said.

“No?” Jia-Li said. “It’s just a dishonorable thing. She got so embarrassed she had to leave, but it’s not like anyone made her go. Actually, she lost to Kaho, so no one was even judging her for losing. Kaho’s only lost an Agni Kai once, and that was to Princess Azula, so it doesn’t even count.”

There it was again: Princess Azula. She must’ve been Prince Zuko’s sister, but everyone said her name differently. Almost reverently, though they never said the prince’s name like that. It was strange. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to meet the princess, if she inspired this kind of terror in people.

“Sorry,” you said. “I probably should’ve known that. Actually, I probably did know that, but — I’m not sure if they told you or anything, but I don’t have any memories.”

Jia-Li blinked. “They didn’t mention it, but that’s good to know. Who are you the daughter of? They must be pretty distraught that you’re like this.”

“I don’t know. I’m not the daughter of anyone,” you said. “If I have parents or siblings or a family, they are lost somewhere in my mind, along with everything else I cannot recall.”

“Not the daughter of anyone? Then how’d you end up in the academy? It’s infamous for being selective and only open to the children of the nobility,” Jia-Li said. It didn’t seem like she was upset or scandalized by the fact that you, her new roommate, were just some ordinary girl — she just appeared to be confused.

“Actually, I was found by Prince Zuko while injured and taken to the palace to be healed,” you said. “Now that I am in a somewhat better shape, he arranged for me to attend the academy so that I can rejoin Fire Nation society in a proper way and understand what kind of world I am living in.”

Jia-Li’s jaw dropped. “You’re the one here on the royal family’s scholarship?”

“I didn’t know that was a well-known thing…” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly, stepping into the room fully. Jia-Li’s face lit up as you opened the bags Mai had packed for you and began to shake out your things to set them up in the room.

“Kaho’s been furious since she heard about it!” she said. “She’s always tried to gain favor from the royal family and failed, so to hear that a girl is coming to the academy that has the very thing she lacks has had her in knots.”

The name Kaho was familiar to you, and not just because Jia-Li had mentioned her earlier. You tried to think about where you might know her from, and then you realized that she was Ty Lee’s roommate, the one that she had been upset about.

“Is she someone dangerous?” you said.

“Depends. Are you talented with bending?” Jia-Li said.

“I’m not even a bender,” you said. Jia-Li winced.

“Then yes, she’s dangerous,” she said. “If I were you, I’d steer clear of her.”

“Are you a Firebender?” you said. Jia-Li smiled, holding out her palm, where a small flame blossomed.

“I’m passable enough. Certainly, I’m no prodigy, but I can do most of the intermediate forms, and I’m starting to try some of the more advanced ones, too,” she said. “That, combined with my brother’s friendship with Kaho’s, is enough for her to mostly leave me alone.”

“I’ll do my best to avoid her,” you said. “Though I don’t even know who she is, so it’ll be difficult.”

“I’ll look out for you,” Jia-Li promised. “Actually, my best advice would be to avoid people you don’t know in general. Most girls here aren’t that nice.”

“But I only know you and Ty Lee,” you said. Jia-Li nodded.

“That’s enough. Two friends is more than most people have, and it’s better to have two actual friends than ten false ones,” she said.

“How do I know that you’re an actual friend?” you said before clapping your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

She laughed. “It’s okay. That’s a good question; one whose answer you will have to determine for yourself. However, whether you think I’m a true friend or not, you’ll have to live with me, so for both our sakes, I hope you come to a more positive conclusion. In the meantime, though, I have to go to afternoon lessons. I’m assuming you’ve been excused from them?”

“Yes, I have been,” you said. “I’m to start with classes tomorrow.”

Jia-Li made a face. “Lucky. You should try to get some rest while you can.”

“I already can’t. I need to spend some time reviewing so that I’m prepared for class tomorrow. I’m already starting off at a disadvantage; I have to do what I can to close the gap between me and everyone else, so that my performance does not reflect poorly on the prince,” you said.

Jia-Li looked impressed. “I’ll leave you to it, then. If you ever need help with your homework or studying or anything, let me know. I’m not the top student at the academy or anything, but my grades are decent.”

“Who’s the top student?” you said. Jia-Li gave you a knowing look.

“It was Princess Azula, before she left, and ever since, it’s been Kaho,” she said.

“Not exactly a person I should be asking for tutoring, then,” you said in defeat.

“Not exactly,” Jia-Li agreed. “Anyways, see you tonight!”

“Tonight? Is something happening?” you said.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re sleeping. In the same room. As we will be, until the end of the term.”

“Oh, right. I forgot,” you said. Jia-Li smiled, patting you on the shoulder as she walked out.

“Bye, Ursa,” she said.

Once your things were unpacked, you thought about trying to find Ty Lee, but Jia-Li’s warning about Kaho still rang in your head, and considering Kaho was Ty Lee’s roommate, it would probably be best if you avoided that area overall. Besides, you didn’t know where their room was, so even if you weren’t afraid of meeting Kaho, you wouldn’t be able to find Ty Lee anyways.

You were just about sitting down to write a letter to Prince Zuko, telling him about your first day, when someone burst into your room. It wasn’t Jia-Li — you didn’t think she possessed that much energy — but it was still someone familiar to you: Ty Lee.

“You must’ve read my mind,” you said. “I was thinking about how I’d like to meet you.”

“Ursa, things are just horrid! My roommate is Kaho, and she’s just like I remember her being!” Ty Lee wailed, throwing herself into your arms. You barely had the self-possession or advance warning to catch her, and then the only thing you could do was awkwardly pat her on the back, looking around and wishing there was someone else here to help.

“Do you know Kaho from before you left the academy?” you said.

“Do I ever,” Ty Lee muttered. “She’s the reason I’m even friends with Azula.”

“How does that work?” you said.

“She’s insane, that’s how,” Ty Lee said. “Kaho, I mean. She was jealous of how much attention the boys at the Royal Fire Academy for Boys were giving me, so she challenged me to an Agni Kai! Mind you, I’m not even a Firebender.”

“I thought you could only participate in an Agni Kai if you were one, though,” you said.

“Yes, that’s right. She knows that, too. It doesn’t stop her from going around and calling one for at any inconvenience, no matter her opponent’s bending status. The thing is, technically, nonbenders are allowed to call someone else — namely, a Firebender — to represent them in the match,” Ty Lee said.

“Is it common to do that?” you said.

“It’s not really a rule that’s put into practice often, as most people wouldn’t challenge a nonbender to an Agni Kai — excepting Kaho, of course. Anyways, Kaho was the best Firebender in the academy, so no one dared to stand against her, even with that rule in place; no one, that is, but Azula.

“She agreed to be my proxy, though I think that’s just because she was annoyed with how Kaho liked to lord her prowess over everyone. Of course, she won, because she’s the most talented Firebender in the world, and ever since then, she’s been my friend,” Ty Lee finished.

“That’s great,” you said. “Though I’d expect it doesn’t endear you to Kaho any.”

“Not at all!” Ty Lee said. “And now you’re telling me I have to live with her? The Headmistress did this on purpose!”

“How can you know that? Kaho and Jia-Li were probably the only ones needing roommates. It was either me or you,” you said, leaving out the fact that you were secretly pleased that it was her and not you.

“Why didn’t she just make those two stay together and let us be roommates?” Ty Lee said. “I mean, really! Kaho leaves Jia-Li alone, something about their brothers being friends, I think, so they would’ve been fine as a pair, and of course we would’ve had so much fun together. But no. I swear, the Headmistress is punishing me!”

“What for? We just got here,” you said. She gave you a dull look.

“Well, I mean, I did drop out and run away to join the circus, you know…” she said. “It wasn’t the best look for the academy, that’s for sure. She definitely hates me for it.”

“That’s true,” you said. “You should just spend as much time as possible in my room.”

“Sure thing!” she said, like she had been planning on doing that anyways but was pleased to have an official invitation.

“I hope Jia-Li doesn’t mind you being here too much. Did you happen to know her, too?” you said.

“Not that well,” Ty Lee said, tapping her chin in thought. “But I think she was nice. I can’t seem to remember anything about her that particularly stood out, which could be good or bad, depending on how you look at it.”

“Hm,” you said. “She did seem to say that she was pretty mediocre all around, so it checks out.”

“Sounds about right! But forget about our disappointing roommates. Do you know what time it is?” she said, raising her pointer fingers.

“I still don’t understand why it’s that time, but yes, I do know what you’re about to do,” you said.

It was something like a ritual for you two, now. Every day, without fail, Ty Lee would jab you with her pointer fingers, always causing your knees to feel weak and your pulse to grow shallow for a moment. You always asked her what she was doing, but she refused to elaborate, promising that she’d tell you one day.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But one day.

To my dear Ursa,

You don’t have to follow such strict protocols and rules of etiquette when you write to me. I know that I am a prince, but in truth I rarely ever feel like one, so it is strange for me when you act as if I am royalty. You may pity me for saying it, but since I know you so well am your benefactor, I will disclose that the habits of my banishment have yet to fade. And in those days, I was never referred to by such titles, so please stop. It is especially strange to hear you calling me such things.

I am glad that you were given time to settle in. Mai told me she was not sure that the two of you would be afforded such grace, but we are both pleased to hear that you were. I hope that your lessons go well, and that your classmates are kind and helpful. I also hope that, if you cannot have Ty Lee as your roommate, you get someone who is friendly to you.

You needn’t fret about doing well in your classes. I am confident you will, and that you will uphold my good name if I even still have one. Worry only for yourself. Try to avoid trouble, if at all possible, but write to me if it finds you anyways. I will do what I can to help you. I will always do what I can to help you.

I gave Bian a treat, as you asked. She was happy. I give you leave to make requests of me freely. It is not a problem for me to oblige you.

Yours,  Zuko

P.S. I am sorry to hear that you still remember nothing. Please write to me if that changes.

P.P.S. Do not sign your letters off like that again. You are not my servant.

[stars-tonight]

Nooo thank you so much! And I’m so impressed with the amount of asks you answered in one day, amazing!

Now, I NEED to knoooow, not as a request or anything! Just wanna know l, in your opinion, which of the haikyuu boys are the most hopeless romantic! The type of guys to send you love songs that reminded them of you, have their camera roll filled with pictures of you and such! Bc I have some in mind!

- 🐝anon

HOPELESS ROMANTICS

🎶 baby we're the new romantics, come on, come along with me 🎶

oikawa tōru

🕊️ oikawa is GIDDY around his partner

🕊️ blows you kisses when you pass each other in the hallway, always pops into your classroom to eat lunch with you

🕊️ always looks for you in the crowds at his games, and after will always run to you first and give you a big hug

🕊️ showy, public displays of affection BUT more intimate, vulnerable acts of love in private

🕊️ it's hard for him to open up and be vulnerable so he prefers to write things down in a love letter

🕊️ probably has a box of all the letters he wrote at different stages of your relationship (first meeting; you agree to go on a date with him; first kiss; et cetera) and gives it to you on your honeymoon

🕊️ oikawa doesn't fall in love very often, but when he falls, he falls HARD

sugawara kōshi

🕊️ suga wants a fairytale romance

🕊️ lights candles and makes hearts with rose petals when you two are on a dinner date

🕊️ if 'princess treatment' was a person

🕊️ if you're out and you're wearing heels or other uncomfortable shoes suga will give you his shoes and walk in his socks

🕊️ gushes about you to his coworkers and his students

bokuto kōtarō

🕊️ bokuto has DREAMED of a romance for the ages

🕊️ he'll be your knight in shining armor for every occasion!

🕊️ you need something off the top shelf? bokuto is BOUNDING over to get that for you!

🕊️ it's a crowded street and you're worried you'll lose each other? bokuto is maneuvering you through the street by bear-hugging you from the back! no harm will come to you because he's muscular af

🕊️ it's your anniversary? bokuto has baked a cake (kind of) and planned a whole fireworks display for you!

🕊️ will shower you with affection both in public and in private

🕊️ very showy about your romance and always makes sure to tell the world how much he loves you

miya atsumu

🕊️ atsumu is the grand acts of love boyfriend

🕊️ actually quite like bokuto

🕊️ anyone messes with you? atsumu is showing up behind you with a glower on his face that could send darth vader running

🕊️ his phone wallpaper is you, he has photos of you in his room (and osamu complains about it because the photos start seeping into his side of the room), everything about him is just you, you, you

kuroo tetsurō

🕊️ kuroo just can't believe you're his

🕊️ he tries to play it cool, really he does

🕊️ but when he's around you he just gets butterflies

🕊️ if you mention you like something in passing, he will get it for you, and in bulk too

🕊️ you want to go somewhere? he's showing up at your door, throwing rocks up at your window, at MIDNIGHT, to take you there

🕊️ he's your ride-or-die, your protector, your home, and everyone knows it

🕊️ kuroo is just so in love

haiba lev

🕊️ lev is your SERVANT

🕊️ (okay i'm joking but am i really?)

🕊️ you need anything? just say the word!

🕊️ a foot massage? a hot bath? lev is on it!

🕊️ he's constantly following you around like a lost puppy, always ready to do whatever you need

🕊️ he falls often and every time, he falls hard

🕊️ in his eyes, he IS your guardian, your knight in shining armor (bokuto 2.0), and you can ALWAYS rely on him

honorable mention: akaashi keiji

🕊️ akaashi akaashi akaashi . . . my lovely boy akaashi keiji

🕊️ who screams 'gentleman' quite like akaashi?

🕊️ he opens car doors for you, makes you your favorite meals, brings you flower bouquets on all your dates

🕊️ little things to make your heart race 🤭😍

🕊️ akaashi is one of the most romantic characters in the whole series

🕊️ he's just not the hopeless kind

extra honorable mention: suna rintarō

🕊️ suna is a quiet, ethereal romantic

🕊️ he always takes pictures of the two of you, messy polaroids of the two of you kissing or hugging under the starry sky

🕊️ picture late nights hanging out on top of his car, eating chūpet sticks and feeling invincible

🕊️ suna's not very showy about his romance but he shows you he loves you with little acts

🕊️ he always wears a hoodie in case you get cold

🕊️ he has an album of 'you' photos in his phone and prints out the best ones to hang up on his room

🕊️ you definitely have a couple phone case

A/N: hi 🐝anon! lovely to see you again! ik you said this wasn't a request but i liked the idea a lot 🤭 i'll be honest i don't quite have a firm grasp of the word 'romantic' but these are who i feel would be the most romantic