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parkerslatte · 2 months

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: memory loss.

Summary: The last time Azriel had seen his mate was nearly four centuries ago. The bond went silent and for those many years, Azriel believed his mate was dead. As he sits with Elain in her garden, the bond suddenly comes alive once again.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

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The day Azriel lost his mate, he was in agony. Not because of the pain, no. It was because of the lack of knowledge if she was alive or not. The bond fell quiet and Azriel could hardly grasp onto it. It was as if he were trying to catch smoke. There was nothing to touch. For years he searched for her, he never wanted to give up. He knew that every moment he waited, she could be in danger.

Even long after she disappeared, Azriel still searched. However, as the centuries ticked by, Azriel began to lose hope. He was sure he had searched every possible location. There was no trace of Y/N.

Azriel sat with Elain in her garden. He had noticed a positive change in the middle Archeron sister for the past few months. When Rhys tasked him to watch over Elain and help her adjust, he originally hated the idea. But he knew the reason why Rhys had set him the task. It was coming up to the 400th anniversary since Y/N had disappeared.

As Azriel looked down at the ring in his hands, he could feel his heart plummet. Even if being around Elain had helped distract himself as she explained all of the flowers to him and their various meanings, the closer it got to the anniversary of Y/N’s disappearance, Azriel felt himself slip away from everyone and everything.

The ring was still beautiful even after all this time. Azriel made sure it was. Despite vowing to never take off her wedding ring, Y/N always took it off before bed, deeming that it was uncomfortable when she rested her head upon her hand to sleep. But the first thing she did every morning was slip the ring back upon her finger. The night she was taken it had been no different except one thing, Azriel had not been there. His job had kept him away for an extra day, and for the first time since they were mated and married, Azriel had not fallen asleep next to Y/N. He had regretted that for four hundred years. The only reminder of her was the ring he found on her bedside cabinet that morning.

“Azriel!” The sound of Elain’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry?” He lifted his gaze from the ring and met Elain’s.

“I asked you what that was,” Elain said, gesturing down to the ring in his hand.

Azriel stilled. He never liked speaking about it with anyone but Rhys or Cassian. But seeing how Elain’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, he could tell that a saddened expression had slipped onto his face.

Azriel sighed. “It was my mate’s wedding ring.”

“Mate?” Elain said, her expression falling slightly.

Azriel cringed internally. He knew about Elain’s small crush on him. She did not hide it well. Though he did not return her feelings, he still enjoyed her company. With her, she understood when he just wished to sit in silence and when he didn’t want to talk, she continued the conversation on her own.

Perhaps there was a time where he could have retired her feelings, Elain was rather beautiful, but she would never compare to Y/N. Azriel had never had another relationship after Y/N disappeared. He only ever wanted Y/N and he would only ever want her.

“Yes,” Azriel said, swallowing hard. “She- she disappeared four-hundred years ago. I was never able to find her.”

The small hurt expression on Elain’s face changed to one of sympathy. “Azriel, I am so sorry.”

Azriel nodded and looked back at the ring. “I have looked everywhere and there is no trace of her. I have always felt…empty since she disappeared. She was part of my soul that I have never gotten back.”

Elain dropped the bulbs she was holding back into her basket. “How do you know she is not out there? You couldn’t have searched everywhere on the planet?”

“I have searched everywhere where it was possible to take her,” Azriel answered. “I have found absolutely nothing.”

“Then believe that she is still out there,” Elain said.

“Elain, it has been nearly four-hundred years,” Azriel said. “I gave up hope of her still being alive a long time ago.”

“Do you still love her?” Elain asked.

“More than anything,” Azriel said instantly. “I haven’t been with anyone after she disappeared. I tried, about two-hundred years ago but I couldn’t do it. It felt so wrong. No one will ever compare to her.”

“Then you shouldn’t give up hope,” Elain said. “You don’t give up hope on those you love.”

Azriel did not reply. He simply looked back down at the ring once more. It was centuries old yet it still looked brand new. Azriel made sure that the silver band never tarnished. Made sure that the gem never stopped sparkling. It looked the same as the day he had slipped it onto her finger. Elain, sensing Azriel wished to no longer talk about the topic, returned back to her garden.

Ever since Y/N had disappeared, Azriel had always felt like he had lost part of his soul, and he supposed he had. Y/N was everything to him. She was who he lived for. She was the one and only love he ever needed, ever wanted. The night the bond snapped for them was one Azriel would never forget. Even if he tried, he would never be able to forget it. The initial shock then the pure feeling of the love she sent him. For the first time in his life, Azriel knew what it was like to be loved so deeply and unconditionally. It did not matter whether he deserved it or not. When he was with Y/N, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him and her and the fact that they were together.

As Azriel tucked the ring back into his breast pocket, a large surge of emotion was brought to life within him. He clutched at his chest. Azriel cried out.

“Azriel?” Elain questioned, shooting to her feet. “Are you okay?”

Her voice was muffled as Azriel continued to claw at his chest. Something was threatening to burst through.

“Something is different,” he forced out.

“Do I need to get anyone?” Elain asked.

“Rhys,” Azriel said. “I need Rhys.”

Elain nodded and ran out of the garden and into the house in search of his brother.

Azriel tried to stand but fell to his knees immediately. He could barely breathe. The pressure in his chest was gradually increasing and he could not place the feeling anywhere.

“I have Rhys,” Elain said, rushing back into the garden, Rhys following behind her.

“Az, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked, kneeling down next to him.

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, breathing heavily. “There is a pressure in my chest. I don’t know what it is.”

“What were you doing before it started?” Rhys asked.

“Telling–” Azriel cut himself off as he yelled out. The pressure was becoming worse and Azriel was sure that if he tried to repress it anymore, it would surely kill him. “Telling Elain about Y/N.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Elain asked quietly, standing a small distance away.

“Az, you need to relax,” Rhys said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t,” Azriel said through gritted teeth.

“The pressure will kill you if you don’t relax,” Rhys said sternly. “So, please, relax.”

Azriel met Rhy’s eyes and stopped clawing at his chest. The pain in his chest gradually got worse and worse. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

“Rhys,” Azriel whispered, his voice full of pain. “I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” Rhys said. “Just relax, Az.”

Azriel closed his eyes and relaxed his body, letting the pain overtake his body until he cried out once again. However as soon as he cried out, the pain stopped and a new feeling overtook his body. It was overwhelming and Azriel backed away from Rhys’s touch.

“Azriel,” Rhys said. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. I can’t–”

Azriel cut himself off as a familiar feeling rose within him. This time he didn’t claw at his chest, he gently placed his hand upon it. The emotions he was feeling weren’t his. They were someone else’s. Azriel hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He had forgotten what it felt like. But it felt right.

“The mating bond,” Azriel said. “I feel the mating bond.”

Even Rhys looked shocked as he looked at Azriel. “Are you sure?”

Azriel nodded. “I can feel it. I can feel her, Rhys.”

Tears sprung to Azriel’s eyes. He tugged on that bond that had lain dormant for four hundred years. It was weak though he felt her tug back. Azriel could have sobbed at that feeling alone.

“Take me back to my home, Rhys,” Azriel said.

The home Azriel shared with Y/N. He hadn’t entered it in a long time. He could never bring himself to. Every single time he tried, he couldn’t open the door. That house was the home he made with Y/N and Azriel did not want to be there if she wasn’t.

“Are you sure?” Rhys asked.

“I’m sure,” Azriel said. “She is there, Rhys. I can feel it.”

Rhys nodded and winnowed them to the outside of Azriel’s home on the outskirts of Velaris. As soon as they arrived, Azriel could already smell the familiar scent of his mate. He pushed away from Rhys and opened the front door.

And there she was.

Y/N stood in the middle of the room looking around with her hands on her hips. “You could have dusted, Az.”

Azriel simply couldn’t believe it. “Y/N? Are you really here?”

Y/N smiled softly and Azriel nearly collapsed right there. That smile was always in his dreams but seeing it again in person…

Azriel rushed over to her and scooped her in his arms as they both sank to the floor. Azriel couldn’t stop the sobs that came from him and neither could Y/N. The bond between them hummed happily. Four hundred years of being apart and now finally being reunited. It was something Azriel had given up on a long time ago.

“How are you here?” Azriel mumbled, his sobs subsided but his tears didn’t. “I thought you were dead.”

Y/N pulled away from the hug and cupped Azriel’s cheeks and wiped away the tears. “You are exactly as I remember. It has been so long since I remembered what you looked like.”

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked.

Y/N sighed and held onto Azriel tighter, as if she were afraid she was going to be taken once more. “The night I was taken, I was drugged, they wanted me for my power of healing and I refused to give in. They were bad men and I was not going to help them no matter how hard they tried to convince me. They drugged my food to make me compliant but the only thing I could think about was you and our bond. Once they realised who I was and who I was mated to, they gave me another drug. This time it was one to dampen the power of the mating bond. It made me stop feeling you.”

“I remember that night,” Azriel said. “I thought you blocked it off.”

Y/N shook her head. “Once the mating bond was dampened, they drugged me with something else. Over time I began to forget things, important things. My name, where I came from, my family, my friends…you.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. The sound of her heart beating was enough to bring a new surge of tears to his eyes. He never thought he would hear it again.

“They took me to a place on the continent, an entire city deep below ground with its own artificial sun and moon, whole fields and towns. Once I did not remember anything, they gave me a new identity and a whole new life.”

“You didn’t remember me?” Azriel asked.

“I didn’t,” Y/N said sadly, threading her fingers in his hair. “But I always felt that there was a part of me missing. Even though the mating bond was repressed, I always felt that something was not quite right.”

Azriel’s heart fell. This whole time he had been in agony that his mate had been missing, while she did not remember him at all. “How did you escape?” he asked.

“If you believe me or not, there are good people in that community, incredible people,” Y/N said. “They helped me flush the drugs from my system and helped me remember who I once was.”

“The bond?” Azriel asked. “Did they help with that?”

Y/N shook her head. “Once the drugs were from my system and I was finally above ground, I felt you. I winnowed back here instantly. Consider me surprised when this house looks exactly the same as when I left four-hundred years ago.”

“I haven’t been able to come back here since you were taken,” Azriel whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Y/N caressed his face and wiped his tears away. “Oh, my darling. I am here now. Only if you still want me, of course.”

Azriel frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”

“Az, my love, it has been four-hundred years. I would understand if you moved on in those years,” Y/N said.

Azriel shook his head. “There has been no one else. I tried almost two centuries ago but I couldn’t do it. All I wanted was you.” When Azriel looked at her face again, he nearly burst into tears once more. It had been so long since he had looked into those loving eyes. The type of love he once thought he never deserved. “If you had found anyone, I would understand. You didn’t remember me.” Just that statement alone made Azriel hurt all over again.

Y/N sighed a pained noise. “I won’t lie to you and say that there was no one, Azriel. There were a couple of people I have been with over the past four centuries.”

A new surge of tears streamed down Azriel’s cheeks as he gripped onto Y/N tighter.

“But,” she continued, “there has been no one for many years and no one ever stuck around long. I could never fully commit. It was as if my body knew that it was wrong. I did like a few people but I never loved them. I could never love anyone more than I love you.”

“I never want you to go anywhere again,” Azriel whispered into her hair. “I missed you so much.”

Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers. Her soft breath fanned his face and Azriel swore he could nearly faint. Her scent, her touch, her breath. They were all things Azriel never thought he would ever witness again.

“I am never going anywhere again,” Y/N mumbled. “I will remain beside you forever, my love.”

Azriel reluctantly unwrapped one hand from around Y/N and reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring. Y/N gasped once she saw it.

“You kept it?” She asked.

“Of course I kept it,” Azriel said. “I always have it on me. It was the only thing I had that reminded me of you.”

Y/N wiped her tears away as Azriel took her hand gently in hers and slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect,” he whispered.

Y/N looked him in the eyes. The love she held within them was something Azriel never forgot. He would see them in his dreams and nightmares. It was something he never thought he would see in person again.

“Can I kiss you?” Azriel asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Y/N smiled. “Az, I am your mate and your wife. There might have been a four century gap in our relationship but those two facts do not change. I love you. Of course you can kiss me. Kiss me until you can’t anymore.”

The shadowsinger smiled. “Then I’m afraid we will be here a while.”

Azriel finally kissed his mate and wife for the first time in four hundred years.

#azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 6 months

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AND NOW I SEE DAYLIGHT.

Aemond Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, loss of virginity, p in v, handjob (fem and m receiving), size kink, breeding kink, westerosi bedding ceremony, forced marriage, mentions of underage marriage (but no consummation), fluff, female reader (appearance is not mentioned)

WORDS: 5.2 K

NOTES: The timeline is altered a bit. The events of episode 8 take place later, like sixtish years or so. @ivvypg and @sapphirehearteyes thank you for your glorious request. I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to @arcieleefor betaing this bad boy. This is dedicated to my beloved @black-dread. Thanks for all the amazing icons, gifsets and headers and for always having my back. ILU.

That one particular night at Driftmark haunted your every being ever since you and Silverwing flew home alongside Sunfyre, Tessarion, Dreamfyre and Vhagar the following morning.

King Viserys had ordered your betrothal to his suddenly mutilated second son so abruptly, stating it was the least both parties could do to make amends, that not even your mother nor the queen had a chance to intervene.

Everyone was aware of the large chasm between the members of House Targaryen, yet Viserys was blind to see that it could not be diminished anymore – especially not by the betrothal of you to your uncle.

Not more than a sennight had passed until Aemond and you cited your vows, and the sea green cloak of House Velaryon that was draped over your shoulders was replaced by the same black cloak your mother had once worn at her wedding to your late father. And besides your husband's side of the family, with your grandsire removing your cloak, no one else was present.

You had understood the threat of the situation like no other back then, and did not resent your mother’s absence, highly doubting that a raven even had left King’s Landing to inform your family on Dragonstone about the wedding being pushed forward.

Ravens of Dragonstone, however, frequented your chambers on a weekly basis.

Sometimes they were shoved into your hands as you were walking the hallways of Maegor’s Holdfast, and other times they were slid under the door to your martial chambers when Aemond was not present.

Cryptid messages, and more often than not paragraphs written in High Valyrian, adorned the scrolls handed over to you by maids and knights alike you knew were loyal to no other than the heir to the Iron Throne and her uncle-husband. Neatly kept away from whom it could be a thorn in the side.

The letters were your only solace in this lonely time – and did little to mend your homesickness.

Until Aemond had stumbled into your shared chambers one night, his silver curls tousled and the little braid at the back of his head loose. He ashamedly had admitted that Aegon had taken him to the Street of Silk to ensure he was as educated as his older brother was in the prospect of you having to consummate your wedding at some point, his voice breaking more and more with each word he said.

You had not understood the significance at first, but once it had settled, a lingering feeling of betrayal had spread throughout your bones. But there was no chance for it to linger any longer than a sennight, because that incident had seemed to bring your husband closer to you than he had been all the years you two spent together in the Red Keep. Two broken and lonely souls drawn to each other, searching for the comfort they had longed for for so long.

He sought out your presence more often than before, adamant to join you during your lessons and whenever you and your dragon ascended into the sky. Your presence during his training with the sword was greatly valued by him, something he had not bothered to acknowledge before.

You were hesitant to reciprocate his gestures and subtle affection at first, however, it overtook you in an ambush – and he was just as surprised as you were to learn that you were falling for him.

But regardless of how many hours you had spent together, how many kisses you had shared in secret, one mystery remained.

The black patch of leather concealing part of his chiseled features and what lay beneath.

Aemond rarely showed his vulnerability, even after being married for a few years already, and his missing eye was his biggest weakness. You did not push him, but regardless of how often you had told yourself you did not care about it, a part of you craved to see what was hidden, just as he craved your touch whenever you retired for bed.

Knowing your patience would bear fruit at some point, no matter how long it took, you just waited to finally be rewarded.

And there you stood now. Surrounded by a group of no less than five men.

Seven days of festivities and feasts lay behind you, tiring you to a certain degree. They were celebrating the night your husband was finally meant to claim your virtue, making your marriage fully legitimate.

And of course it was none other than your drunken uncle whose gruff voice had silenced the chatter of your guests, followed by a clap of his hands as if he had seen the servants bring another tankard full of the finest wine the capital had to offer.

“I believe ‘tis time for the bedding!”

It was not the thought of bedding Aemond, his promise of him not hurting you lingering in the back of your mind. It was the men crowding you, ready to tug and tear on the white gown queen Alicent had commissioned to be made for this occasion. For the official celebration of your wedding.

The bedding ceremony was a tradition particularly valued in other parts of the realm, however, with House Targaryen – or Hightower – in dire need of some more loyal allies, they had opted to follow along to those traditions. And, with Aemond being the ever dutiful son, he of course did as his grandsire and mother bid.

There was a loud cheer in the hall that quietened with Aemond eventually speaking. “Very well,” he said, a much smaller group of women surrounding him already. “But if any man offends my wife in word or deed, I shall have his head and feed him to Vhagar.”

No one dared to mess with the rider of the biggest dragon alive, had not before and most certainly not now. So it was that, when you were swept off of your feet, the men did not tug on your gown as hungrily as they had looked at you before.

You had no chance watching how Aemond was led to your martial chambers after you, the gaggle carrying you disappearing so quickly, as if they had to be somewhere else not long after. And once your bare feet were set on the cold ground, the men hurried around you to undo your dress, loosening the bodice and leaving you clad in nothing else than your smallclothes with the white dress pooling around your ankles.

The giggling of women grew in volume, catching your attention and forcing you to look past the group of men to the door, watching your husband enter. A sullen look overcame your features as you spotted Aemond with the buttons of his embroidered tunic opened, more so as your eyes flickered to the three undone laces in the front of his breeches. The women stopped outside of the door while he entered, and it seemed that his venture to the Street of Silk years ago had affected you more than you thought.

Aemond’s sharp eye, the purple striking even more with the patch of black leather next to it, cut through the group of men to find yours, moving slowly as he took you in. Where the chill air of your chambers had caused goosebumps to prickle on your skin before, they now were replaced by a feeling of liquid fire running through your veins.

There was a longing in you, suppressed by nervousness.

Ever since your first flowering, not long before you turned ten-and-four, there were little to no nights you found sleep without thoroughly exploring each other's bodies – but not once going far enough for him to take your maidenhead.

Aemond had told you that his mother had requested for you to preserve your maidenhood until the bedding ceremony, stating she would want you to avoid the death in childbirth the maesters at the citadel had recorded for very young mothers. Though you and him both knew she just did not like the thought of you losing your maidenhead and him possibly putting a child in you without the official ceremony of the second wedding, with more witnesses. You chose to follow her orders - to a certain degree at least.

He stalked towards you slowly, and there must have been something in the way his eye had darkened, because without another word, the men around you disappeared from your marital chambers, the doors falling shut behind Aemond. Coming closer, you were forced to tilt your head up to keep your eyes locked with his, his tall frame looming over yours. “They might listen at the door if they wish, but none will watch,” Aemond purred, voice cutting through the silence and sending a shiver down your spine.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other under the intensity of his gaze, you reached to pinch the thick, embroidered hem of his tunic with your fingers, rubbing it between them. When your eyes trailed from his down to your fingers, you briefly spotted his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, matching your own.

“Take-Take it off,” you stammered, barely hearing yourself with the feeling of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. As he did not move straight away, your wide eyes locked with his good one again, before he eventually pushed the tunic off his shoulders, joining your gown in a puddle on the floor.

You had seen him bare before, but this time was different. It felt more intimate, more vulnerable, given what was to be expected of the two of you.

Sparse, silver hairs adorned the expanse of his chest, and raking your fingers through them had never seemed so inviting. You could not admire the whispy trail that pursued from his navel down to disappear below the waistband of his breeches, because Aemond placed the tip of his finger under your chin to not only close your slightly opened mouth but to bring your focus back on him, forcing your head up for you to look at him.

“Are you enjoying the view, wife?” The term of endearment in combination with his demanding touch flushed your cheeks with desire, and caused your words to die on your tongue.

Glancing around the room to escape his heated gaze and regain your composure, you nodded your head, a sheepish smile on your lips. “I love you,” you whispered. And then, his lips captured yours with such ferocity, it enticed you with the promise of more and made you aware that he felt the same, even if he did not voice it.

Wandering hands grasped every part of your body they could reach, settling on your waist, while yours seized his shoulders for leverage, fingers dancing along the sides of his neck. You pressed your body against his, the heat emanating from him pleasant and comforting.

Your mouths hardly parted as his tongue dragged over your kiss-swollen lips just in time with you squeezing your thighs together, eliciting a shaky moan to slip past your lips. His fingers had started to undo the ties of your smallclothes, their movements stuttering at the sound. Aemond pinched the fabric between his fingers, stopping it from falling from your body just yet as his tongue persistently pushed past your lips again, claiming them with newfound vigor.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes shut just a moment longer before your half-lidded eyes met his, one shaky breath after the other fanning into the chill air. You tried to chase his lips, but when his hand came up to grab your chin, your smallclothes dropped to the ground. The reassuring squeeze of his other hand on your waist did little to stop you from shivering, the cold hitting your heated skin and the wetness between your legs.

You gasped as his hand came up to grope your breast, watching in awe as Aemond bowed forwards to wrap his lips around your nipple, nibbling and suckling on it. Shock widened your eyes, given that he had never done that before, yet you were desperate to keep his lips right there with your hands buried in the silver strands of his hair.

His fingers danced across the curve of your waist down to your arse, groping your flesh and holding you in place, if not even drawing you closer towards him than you already were. You writhed and panted in his grasp, keeping your eyes locked on his face as he licked over the curve of your breast, tongue swirling around your hardened bud.

“Stop teasing me,” you whimpered, inhaling sharply as a tug on Aemond’s silver tresses caused him to groan against your sweaty skin. Pulling back, he smirked up at you in a manner that gave away he felt flattered to have your undivided attention, the purple of his eye almost completely eclipsed by black.

Rising back to his full height, he mused, “I have only just begun.” Bringing his hand to your cheek, he nuzzled his nose along the side of your face, inhaling your scent. Your head tilted in the opposite direction to grant him even more access, allowing him to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear.

“Why don’t you stop tempting me with those sweet sounds you make?” he breathed against the spot behind your ear before turning you around, your back flush against his chest. The protruding bulge in the front of his breeches pressed against your arse, alluring enough to push back against him. But with his hand trailing from your waist down between your legs, that urge was forced into the back of your mind.

You held onto his arm as two of his fingers parted your folds, dragging back and forth to generously coat them in your arousal. Tipping your head back against his shoulder, you turned it sideways slightly to nuzzle your nose against the side of his face. “My, my,” Aemond purred, “it seems as though someone is feeling frisky, mh?” You replied with a quiet whine that was elicited by his fingers circling around your little bud, prompting Aemond to scoff.

“I have not even had the chance to show your cunt enough attention, and you are this wet for me already.” Heat crept onto your cheeks at his words, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to stifle a moan.

Squeezing his arm to keep yourself grounded, you looked at him from over your shoulder with hooded eyes. “I can not help it, husband,” you whimpered, taking in a sharp breath as his fingers breached your tight cunt mid-sentence. “You–” taking in a deep breath, “you are just too tantalizing and make me want you so desperately… please.”

A hum rumbled in his chest at your words. “Patience,” he simply mused, continuing the ministrations of his fingers. The pleasure that soared through your body had you grinding your hips against his hand, chasing as much friction as possible. But before your peak could wash over you, his touch left your body, his arm pulled from your grasp to place the hand on your hip.

Your mouth opened and closed without any words leaving your lips, slowly processing what had happened, and when it opened again, he was quick to cut you off.

“On the bed.”

Moving too slow for his liking, he pushed you towards your marital bed, and you sat down at the edge of it, keeping your eyes fixed on him.

Aemond stood not too far away from you, giving you the perfect view of his flushed chest and the large bulge of his confined member in the front of his breeches. Your breath hitched in your throat as his nimble fingers started to undo the last laces of them. He ridded himself of the dark fabric, kicking it aside as it pooled around his ankles to walk towards you.

His member stood to full attention, a slight curve to it and the tip slightly flushed in the same color of his lips. It had you squeezing your thighs to suppress the aching between them that yearned to be soothed by him. By it.

Before he was able to touch your chest to push you flat on the bed, you gripped his wrist, staring up at him with determination flickering in your eyes. “Everything,” you said, trying to not let the slight tremble in your voice become too audible.

His one good eye widened in surprise, his brow raised. For several moments, Aemond remained silent, taking in your words and the request implicit in it. To you, it felt as if you had pushed your luck with him taking a tad too long, but the softening of his gaze betrayed the genuine interest he found in your proposal.

He was half tempted to do what you requested just to surprise you, to gawk at your expression at seeing what he had hidden beneath the leather all this time. Would it be worth taking the risk of scaring you for the rest of your lives?

There was a flush creeping onto his cheeks, you spotted it even in the dim light the candles granted, it was there. His stiff posture coaxed you to get back onto your feet, standing in front of him.

The proximity and the softness and reassurance of your gaze made it difficult for him to deny you, yet you knew you mayhaps had asked too much of him. “Issa sȳz,” you whispered, cupping his face. “Gaomā daor emagon naejot urnēptre nyke.” It is fine. You do not have to show me.

You were not sure what you were expecting of him, but certainly not his next words. “Jaelā naejot ūndegon ziry?” You want to see it?

Raising a brow, you pressed your lips into a thin line while the corners pulled into a slight smile. “Kesan daor henujagon, nyke kivio.” Aemond’s eye widened again, but this time with something indefinable flickering in it. I will not leave, I promise.

Reluctantly, his hand came up to cup yours, inching it closer towards the eyepatch. Your eyes flickered between them and his good one, the slight bow of his head giving you the reassurance you needed to continue. Carefully undoing the clasp at the back of his head, you removed the patch of leather.

With it slowly lowering, Aemond took in a deep breath and closed his eye as if he meant to brace himself for your impending rejection - yet it never came. There was silence, yes, but he could not hear any sounds of disgust or shock, and he was not sure if he liked that.

Opening his eye, Aemond was blessed by plain curiosity written all over your features. There was concern and interest alike etched into them as you inspected the glimmering sapphire, and suddenly it made sense why he had gifted you a necklace with the same gemstone the day you turned ten-and-four.

His mood seemed to thaw, and his lips twisted into a smile the moment he spotted one of your hands reaching for the delicate pendant hanging around your neck, rubbing it between your fingers and seemingly noticing that you had been linked to one another all those years.

Staring at him, not the precious gemstone in the socket of his eye, you captured his lips in a kiss that had him grunting once, his arms wrapping around your body. A haze of desire and want clouded your mind, as this kiss turned into all teeth and tongue.

Aemond slowly herded you against the bed, toppling over onto the mattress the moment your calves hit the edge and caused you to lose your balance.

The kiss, however, did not break. With your hands still on his jaw, he shifted onto his side, barely parting your mouths and allowing you to crawl further onto the bed while his lips chased yours hungrily.

Aemond moved to tower over you and ran his hand along the outside of your leg, traveling from your ankle up to the curve of your hip. As you tried to sit up, he squeezed your flesh harshly enough to have a giggle die on your tongue, and pulled you towards him, the force of it sending your head back into the pillows. You squealed in surprise and stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes, the desire in your veins reigniting.

Your lips parted into the perfect ‘o’-shape the moment Aemond’s finger slid in you, a sight that almost had him spilling his seed right then and there. “Gods,” you whimpered, your back arching against him as one of your hands grabbed his shoulder.

Spurred on by your sounds and the sight of you unraveling beneath him, he inserted another digit. The way your cunt squeezed his fingers so tightly did not make it easier for him to hold back, the thoughts of it being replaced by his cock sooner or later clouding his mind.

“That’s it,” Aemond purred, moving his fingers at a torturously slow pace, completely mesmerized as he watched your face contort in pleasure and your body react to his touch. But no amount of curiosity could fool you, knowing that he had not listened to you.

“You are teasing me again,” you whined, and with your impatience getting the worst of you, you hooked both legs around his waist, using them to pull yourself closer towards what your body desired. Now it was Aemond looking at you with parted lips, his breathing coming out ragged. When you reached for his hard cock, straining against his lower belly, you saw the bump in his throat bob and felt his member twitch in your hand.

The innocent in your eyes was gone, a sly smirk now draped across your lips. He raised a brow, but did not stop your hand from slowly dragging across it, tugging on him in the rhythm he had set.

“Give me what I desire,” you panted, rolling your hips against his hand to race for completion. “Please.”

It was evident that with your hand on his cock that he was not able to form one coherent thought, and much to your disliking, he used the hand that previously was between your legs to seize your wrist, pinning your hand to your belly.

“My love,” he rasped, raising his brows. “We have had many times to practice with our mouths and fingers, but this will be a new experience for you, and I want you to be thoroughly prepared for it.”

You nodded softly, understanding his concern, “we have waited for this night for so long. You have prepared me well, Aemond. Please, let me enjoy you… I am ready.”

All was lost when you pushed your soaked mound against his cock, trapping it in between your bodies. Aemond drew in a sharp breath, and not having had him inside of you before, you were surprised at how different it already felt merely pressing against your swollen lips. The moan you released was wanton, pleasure and surprise both filling your veins.

His grip on your wrist tightened at that, and his eyes darkened in a way you had not seen before. It sent a shiver down your spine, your cunt clenching around nothing.

Without a word, Aemond released your wrist and grabbed the base of his cock. Sitting back on his haunches, he lined his cock with your entrance but did not push inside. “Jaelā bisa?” he asked, a concerned edge to his voice that asked for your reassurance. You want this?

Hooded eyes gazed at him as you bowed your head slowly, your heavy breathing and hardened nipples showing just how much you wanted it. “Kessa.” Yes.

A shuddered breath escaped him as he thrusted into you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. Even if he wanted to go faster, your cunt was choking him so tight, there was no chance for him to do so without spending himself. He pushed inside at an agonizingly slow pace, every ridge and vein of him dragged along your walls.

He had prepared you tonight, and he had prepared you all the nights before that, but it still felt entirely different to what you had expected, if not even painful. You winced, and on cue, your body went rigid.

Aemond gripped your hip with such force it was meant to bruise in the following days, not making your discomfort any easier. “Gods, shit, I–” he grunted, taking in a deep breath and stilling his movements. He had yet to bottom out completely, but your ease was his priority.

“‘Tis alright,” he cooed, running one hand along your side in a calming manner. His other grabbed yours and pinned it above your head with your fingers intertwined. Dipping his head down, his lips captured yours in a gentle kiss. It was languid, sensual even, and did not lack any passion.

You arched your back against him, melting into the warmth that radiated off his body and relaxing almost instantly. Aemond used the opportunity to gently push the rest of his manhood into you, giving you time to adjust to his size once he was sheathed inside.

You both released a deep breath at the same moment, fanning across each other’s kiss swollen lips. There was a burning inside of you, and you felt filled to the brim, yet it did not sting as badly as it had before.

“Gods be good,” he rasped, voice tinted with deep desire, “you were made for me. You were always meant to be mine.” Light kisses trailed along your jaw and the side of your neck, meaning he could not spot the color his words forced onto your cheeks.

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you craned your neck and granted him more access, drowning in the calming feeling of his lips on your skin and the burning desire that pooled between your legs. “Feels s-so good,” you half-moaned, half-whimpered, and Aemond took that as his cue to move.

His eye searched your face for any sign of discomfort, as if there was the possibility of you only saying it to please him. When he found none, he began rutting his hips into yours. The pace was slow, just like it had been throughout the whole night, and despite it being unsaid, you both knew that was not what this night was about. It was about your unity, making peace with your past and embracing your future together.

Entangling your other hand in his silver strands, you gently tugged on them, tilting his head back to the point you were able to press your lips to his throat. Aemond groaned, and in response to his cock throbbing inside of you, your walls clenching around him.

“Tell me… Tell me how I make you feel,” he stammered, breathlessly. His jaw was set, and the bump in his throat bobbed against your lips each time he swallowed his saliva. You mewled against his flushed skin, slightly sucking it between your lips only to release it a few seconds after.

Running your hand from the back of his head down his spine, it rested on his arse, gently squeezing his flesh. “So good,” you panted, pressing a chaste kiss to his throat. “... incredible.”

Aemond buried his face in the crook of your neck, driving himself into you with a little more determination and force. His body was rutting against your little bud in a way that had the familiar feeling of your peak settling in the pit of your belly, even tingling in the soles of your feet.

It must have been obvious to him how close you were with your walls trembling and the grip of your legs around his waist tightening; he squeezed your hand once, twice, before grunting against your skin, “peak for me. Can you do that, mh?”

Far too lost in the pleasure his presence granted you, you nodded your head, humming a ‘hmm’ as you wanted nothing more than to please him. And with your peak crashing over you, you did just that.

A row of wanton moans and whimpers slipped past your lips, growing in volume each time his cock dragged along that sensitive spot inside of you. With your convulsing walls, stars also started to cloud your vision, and it felt as if dragonfire was spreading throughout your body.

“Please,” you begged, digging your nails into the back of his hand and the flesh of his arse. Aemond hissed at the stinging pain, but his hips did not falter. “Let me give you an heir,” you whined, “put your son in me. Kostilus… please.” It sounded more desperate than intended, but had the desired effect.

“Seven hells, fuck, yes!” His body went rigid as his twitching cock spent itself deep inside of your quivering walls. Your cunt was choking him, squeezing him so tightly it had his thrusts faltering, coming to a halt despite him still spilling his seed.

Aemond collapsed on top of you, trying to control his breathing with his face pressed into your dampened hair. Your body was limp, and while a steady breath came quicker to you than him, you weren’t able to do much more than trace your fingers over his back in mindless patterns.

He pulled out of you as he rolled onto his side, fingers still intertwined with yours and no intention of letting go so soon. You watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

It was surprising you both when you reached out to ghost your index finger over the red scar that emerged below his eye, an expression of concern crawling onto your features with Aemond wincing slightly.

“Gaomagon daor mirre ruaragon hen nyke arlī,” you whispered, your eyes flickering from his lips up to meet his good one. Do not ever hide from me again. A chuckle came from him, juxtaposed by the nod of his head. “Avy jorrāelan, tolī.” I love you, too.

Pressing your lips into a thin line was a fruitless attempt to stop them from pulling into a wide grin, and you giggled softly, before your arm wrapped around his neck to pull yourself against him. Mounting him like your beloved Silverwing, you straddled his hips, his cock already half-hard again.

His member and the whispy hairs around it were glistening in the dim light similar to the sapphire in the socket of his eye, yet it was for a completely different reason. Your mixed juices leaked out of your cunt, coating him and claiming him just like he had claimed you as his before.

“I might be yours, but you are just as much mine,” you said.

Aemond smirked at you, before sitting up a little and cupping your face with both hands. His lips collided against yours, pulling you down and consuming you with a kiss that was less chaste than the ones you had shared before, swallowing you in passion.

Sleep hardly found you in the hours that followed, and if it did, it was only to be interrupted again by lingering kisses and touches, making up for the years you had gone without.

Taglist: @seabasscevans @dixie-elocin @thelittleswanao3@gemini-mama

945 notes · View notes

dotster001 · 6 months

Note

Requests are open!! May I request a Lilia x reader that is lovers to enemies?? (You can choose why or if the ending is angst or fluff.) stay safe!!

A Lesson in Humanity

Summary: Lilia x gn!reader

CW: death, war (not on screen), injury, (how do I say this next one without spoiling the whole thing? Um...) There are drugs involved, angst, alternate universe

M/F=whichever parental term you'd have Silver refer to you by.

A/N: this ask....when I started it I thought it would be short and easy.... 😂

Your kingdom was on the outskirts of the Valley of Thorns. Despite the fact that in the last century, nobody had even heard from the queen, let alone glimpsed her army, tensions were always high, both for the fae who lived within the human kingdom, and the humans who lived in the fae one.

But a new era was dawning. And you'd worked hard to get here. You'd quickly risen through the ranks, and become your Queen's favorite diplomat. When you shared your dream of peaceful relations, she had fallen into the dream right alongside you.

So here you were. At the palace in the Valley of Thorns. Awaiting an audience with the Queen of the dark fae. You were surprised to see an older woman, similar to what the Queen was described as, but aged like a fine wine, and with an aura of power that nearly sent you to your knees.

As she walked in, behind her walked a boy, no less formidable, his emerald eyes icy and piercing.

And behind him, with a light hearted skip in his step, a man. His dark hair in a loose braid that exposed the magenta streaks in his hair. His eyes were just as incisive as the boys, but his face was less lined, less tense. He seemed to be enjoying things.

“Y/N L/N. Welcome to our kingdom. We are most excited to see what changes you can bring to our court,” the queen (?) said.

You bowed deeply, taking the opportunity to collect your thoughts in the midst of these very intimidating people.

“I am honored to be given this opportunity. I hope I don't let you down,” You said as you rose from your bow.

“See that you don't.”

The first visit was spent with you doing most of the talking, discussing where your kingdom was at in the modern era, discussing ways you hoped to improve relations, offering up various items you'd been given permission to trade in order to set up a trade route between your nations. You were exhausted. The two pairs of emerald eyes seemed to be searching your soul, while the magenta pair seemed thoroughly amused.

At length, you were dismissed for the evening, and the man with magenta eyes escorted you to your room.

“Chin up. You did well,” he said lightly as you walked.

It was the first time you'd heard him speak, and you were startled by the deep tone.

“Oh. Uh, thank you,” you choked out.

“Fu fu, you can relax around me. I'm trying to achieve the same things you are.”

He stopped walking, and held out a hand to you.

“Lilia Vanrouge,” he said.

You knew that name. Why did you know that name?

“Y/N L/N,” you shook his hand in return.

“Word of advice, don't give the fae your name,” he grinned maliciously.

You held back an eye roll. “Aren't we trying to do away with the old stereotypes?”

His grin deepened, and his eyes darkened. “That's not a stereotype, darling human.”

You didn't believe him, you really didn't. But he was definitely holding onto the bit for a slightly uncomfortable amount of time. Maybe fae humor was just different.

“Anyway, I'm sure you'll learn all about that during your stay here. Just as I'll learn about your human customs when I live with you.”

“Are you the fae diplomat, then?” You asked.

“Of course I am! Don't I seem so reliable?”

He began walking again, and you hastened your gait to catch up. For someone with such short legs, he was fast.

“In the spirit of honesty, Y/N, the reason you recognize my name is because you have heard of me.” He stopped abruptly, turned to you, and gave a mock salute. “General Lilia Vanrouge of her majesty's armies.”

You knew fae lived for a long time. But this man was a murderer. He'd killed many humans in his time. He was the Boogeyman that parents told their children about. And now he was fighting for peace?

You almost couldn't believe this was the person whose name was only spoken in whispers.

“You're confused. But that's fine. You're young. When you live a couple hundred years, you gain a perspective on things. Rest assured, I am the largest proponent of peace in this kingdom. I am your ally. And I will do what I need to do to make things right,” he said firmly. And you believed him. Seven help you, but you really believed him. So you nodded, and he smiled brightly. He pointed to the door down the hall.

“That's where you'll be staying. If you need me, just say my name, and I'll be there.”

And in a cascade of pink sparks, he was gone.

….

You'd both fallen hard. Perhaps it was your shared passion for a similar goal. Perhaps it was the allure of being from different species. Perhaps it was the day you'd seen him training shirtless, and couldn't look away.

But your relationship was a fire that only fueled the desire to bring the relations between your kingdoms closer. You complimented each other. Brought out the strengths in each other. And the last three years had breezed by, both of your dreams coming closer and closer to fruition.

Lilia broke the kiss you'd been trapped in for the last five minutes, and breathed against your lips.

“You should come live with me.”

“You say that everytime we're alone together,” you giggled, chasing his lips, him playfully dodging.

“And I mean it every time. Come live with me.”

“I don't think that my queen would be pleased to lose her favorite diplomat.”

“Sometimes I think she's in love with you, too, and she's using your position to keep you from me.”

“Very funny,” you snickered, “she'd rather the three of us be a package deal.”

“Fair,” he whispered, kissing you again, seeming to distract himself with you by accident, before pulling away again.

“But I'm really serious this time,” he said sternly, reaching into his pocket, and pulling out a black ring.

“Lilia,” you breathed out.

“I've been thinking about how we aren't getting any younger.”

You held back a snort at that. He looked exactly the same as the day you met him. But you remembered like it was yesterday the day he'd noticed a single silver strand in your hair. Just one. That's all it had taken for him to lock himself in his head for an hour as he held you tightly. You hadn't had any since, and you'd been pretty certain it was probably from stress, but Lilia had been a little shaky ever since then.

“We love each other. We shouldn't let that slip away,” he whispered.

You found yourself nodding, giving into his love filled eyes, but as you felt the cold ring slip onto your finger, you spoke up.

“One condition. We'll be engaged, but we won't get married until we've brought about peace.”

He groaned. “That could take forever!”

“Think of it as a way to celebrate the future unification of our people.”

He whined, imitating a child.

“Fine, but only if you live with me,” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hold back a grin.

“Okay, Vanrouge. I think we can work that out.”

….

The letters from home were….concerning. You'd thought you were making progress, but the queen had just announced her engagement to a fae duke she had met during one of her visits to the Valley of Thorns. And the reactions were less than ideal.

You put away the reading glasses that you were using, and rubbed your eyes with a groan. It always felt like one step forward, ten steps back.

Lilia would not be excited to postpone the wedding again. When you'd gotten the newest prescription of reading glasses, he'd been far more insisting about getting married sooner rather than later. But you intended to make him keep his promise.

“Why are you so distressed?” A voice called.

You turned to see the young fae prince, watching you expectantly.

Over the years you'd learned that he seemed cold, but that didn't mean anything. He was a sweet kid. He viewed Lilia as a father. It was endearing. A glimpse at a future you could have one day.

”I'm alright, your highness. Just feeling overworked.”

He tilted his head to the side, thinking. “Perhaps grandmother would allow you and Lilia to go on a trip.”

“That sounds nice, your highness, but I don't have time for-” you trailed off as you heard shouting in the hall outside, some knights bursting into your study and talking over themselves.

That is until they saw the prince, and shut themselves up, bowing deeply and apologizing to the prince.

You sighed internally. Both you and Lilia knew that treating the boy like a god was leaving him very lonely. You'd both been discussing ways to socialize him a bit more, but it was just as difficult as bringing lasting peace. And it didn't help that, despite his youth, he already possessed unmatched power.

“What's going on?” You interrupted, making the knights turn back to you.

“General Lilia, he-”

“We tried to stop them-”

Thunder boomed outside, and you quickly turned to the prince.

“Your highness, I'm sure he's fine,” you assured, trying to calm down what was already a torrential downpour. He turned to you, eyes distressed, and he nodded, only to be interrupted by the knights.

“He's not.”

“We're doing what we can, but-”

“It looks bad.”

“Where is he?” You asked, grabbing Malleus' hand as you stood.

“Medical wing.”

You intended to walk Malleus and yourself to the medical wing, but the world around you burst into green sparks and darkness, and the next thing you knew you were looking at a non responsive Lilia.

“Thank you, your highness,” you groaned, trying to catch your bearings again.

He didn't respond, simply staring at Lilia. You looked over at a doctor, and they shook their heads. You released a sob, and fell to the floor, crying into his stomach. Thunder boomed, and you felt Malleus' much smaller hand fit into yours, squeezing it tightly. You sat up, and pulled him into what you hoped was a comforting hug. He didn't cry, but you could feel him shaking.

“Oh crumbs!” You heard a shout, followed by a sharp intake of breath, as the bed next to you jostled.

You looked over and saw Lilia staring at you with wide eyes.

“Sevens! You scared the hell out of me!” You sobbed, throwing your arms around him. “Don't ever do that again!”

“I don't intend to. The underworld seems very boring,” he groaned. Before you could ask, you were unceremoniously pulled away as the medics began to work on him again.

You turned to Malleus, but he was gone.

“What happened?” You asked over the hubbub.

“Apparently the Queen was betrothed to a human lord, when she was just a child, and he's not happy that she broke it off for a fae. He's sending an army, and I got run through by his scout,” he laughed bitterly. “I'm getting old, Y/N, I'd never have missed him in my heyday.”

“Oh hush, middle aged is not old,” you laughed through the tension, brushing away more tears. This was not good. Not for Lilia, not for you, not for your dreams….and not for the kingdoms. But at least he was alive.

Green sparks filled your vision, and Malleus had returned.

“My grandmother wants an audience with you when you can move, Lilia.”

Lilia nodded, and reached out for Malleus. “It's going to be okay. I promise.”

The next week went by in a blur. Even though Lilia had assured you that now that he'd seen the underworld he had no intention of going back, there were several rough nights, where he was racked with fever as infection came and went.

The second he was allowed to leave the bed, he took his requested audience with the queen. After a tense hour, he had sat you down on the sofa in your study, as he paced. At length, he sighed and turned to you.

“An army is indeed coming. It's nothing we can't handle, but considering how injured I was, the queen is rightfully concerned.”

You nodded.

“She has asked me to take the prince, and live in the forest with him until she deems it safe. In the meantime, I'm supposed to teach him, train him, and make sure that I heal properly. Come with me.”

You bit your lip. “Is that an option right now? Won't they need me, at least on the human side of things?”

“This isn't the time for a diplomat. This is the time where the royals have to hold the discussion. This is the time where advisors write up a peace treatise, and make promises. They don't need diplomats until later. And I'm certain your queen would rather know you were safe with me until she needs you.”

He made good points. And you had no idea how long this would go on. The thought of being without Lilia after having to see his dead body was not a thought you enjoyed having. So you agreed. Despite your hesitation, you decided to trust him.

….

The cabin was quaint. It was cozy, very domestic, and, after banning Lilia from the kitchen, it was very safe. And with Malleus, you could almost pretend the three of you were the picture perfect family. Lilia handled the magic training, you handled the literature and the manners, and the emotional aspect of parenting. (Lilia had tried that last one, but had ended up making the young prince cry. Now only you are in charge of emotional development.)

A warrior-strategist, and a scholar. The perfect parenting team to make one well rounded individual. Hopefully.

Lilia was in contact with the queen, but evidently the army had been more formidable than anyone could have expected from a rebel offshoot. Evidently, some fae had joined this human in his crusade, also unhappy at the attempts to bridge the gap.

You had attempted early on to keep track of the passage of time, but soon lost track. It was long enough that Malleus had had a growth spurt, and now towered over both you and Lilia. He was, evidently, in his angsty teenage phase, despite being a couple hundred years old. But in this time, he'd grown strong, learned self defense, and gained control over his magic.

It was wonderful to watch him grow. But the longer you were here, the more concerned you got for the future of your dreams.

“Y/N, I'm back,” Lilia called. You and Malleus were in the kitchen making dinner. Lilia had been out scavenging for berries as a treat for after dinner.

“In the kitchen!” You called. He peaked in.

“Can you come out here, please? I need to talk to you.”

His expression looked serious, so you gave Malleus a couple instructions on what to do next, then walked out into the living space with Lilia. He was facing the window.

“Is it news from home?”

“No. Please sit.”

You sat down, waiting with nerves on edge about what he didn't want to say in front of Malleus.

He turned to you, and you noticed a bundle in his arms. Then the bundle moved.

“What is seven's name?” You stood up, rushing to him.

A child. Not just a child. A baby.

“Lilia, what is this?”

“I would think that was self explanatory, my love,” he snickered, gently passing you the baby boy. He was beautiful. And very asleep.

“His parents-”

Lilia shook his head, removing his coat, and setting down the basket of berries.

“I can't explain it, but he's been abandoned for a long time. No one is coming for him.”

“How do you know?”

“The magic on him serves a very specific purpose. No one is coming for him.”

The boy opened his eyes, his auroral hues blinking up at you sleepily. You were so absorbed in them, that you were surprised when you felt Lilia 's arms wrap around the both of you.

“You're a good parent. You've proved it with Malleus.” He whispered in your ear, a seductive lilt in his tone. “And a human child raised by a human diplomat, and their fae general husband, alongside the future fae king, would further the relations of our people.”

You nodded slowly.

“Can we keep him?” He whispered, his lips pressed directly to the shell of your ear.

You looked at the boy, then at Lilia, who was solely watching you, fixing you with the saddest expression.

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Of course we can.”

…..

It had taken Malleus some time to adjust to the new baby. But soon he was reading to it, telling it all about his kingdom, promising to take care of him forever.

Within a couple years(? To be honest you couldn't be sure, time living with fae went differently) Lilia insisted that Silver start training with himself and Malleus. You protested; your son had difficulty staying awake, and didn't have nearly the power that they both had, but both Lilia and Malleus had been insistent. They could feel the magic inside the boy, they assured you. And besides, with his build, and clear intelligence, he would make a great knight. Malleus would want people he was close to as his advisors in the future, and for that they would need experience. And with Malleus and Lilia pouting at you like that, and Silver just happy to be included, you couldn't say no for long.

You knew time was passing, but only because Silver was growing. You were told Malleus was probably at his full height and appearance, but you could barely test the passage of time that way anyway.

One day, an unfamiliar man arrived at the cabin. He slipped you a business card, that read,

Dire Crowley, Headmage of Night Raven College

“I'm here to observe your boys. Both of them will be old enough to attend not that far apart, and we like to scout early. The Dark Mirror says both show a lot of promise.”

Lilia seemed ecstatic, so you nodded along. They wouldn't be ready for college that soon, would they?

The scouting went well, but you found yourself increasingly concerned when you heard some of the things that both boys had done to train. Things you hadn't heard about.

But you didn't say anything. Not until the boys were in bed, and the Headmage was gone.

“When did you take them to the middle of the forest and leave them?”

“Oh, that, don't worry about it, they're fine.”

“And what's this about you going with them? Wasn't the whole point for them to build relations with their peers and gain independence?”

“It's just for protection-”

“So, Silver and I will be alone for a year, then Silver will leave me the next year, and I'll be all by myself, when the boys are supposed to be figuring out how to live without you, and you are supposed to be helping me clean up after the war?”

“There's a long time before then-”

“Is there?”

“Yes. And you can come with me. When we're married we can get married student housing-”

“We don't even know if we'll be married yet!”

“Why not?”

“Look at us, Lilia! We've been living in the woods for who knows how long, because of the dangers back home! Do you call that peace?”

He stared at you, then said, “Let's call it off. The promise. Let's just get married now.”

“First off, that's a terrible idea, based on how different our parenting style appears to be. Which, again,” this brought you back to what started the conversation, “how did I not know about your training exercises?”

“The boys and I knew you wouldn't like them, so we all agreed not to say anything.”

“I would have noticed if my sons were missing for a week!” You shouted.

“M/F?” You turned around, and there was Silver, looking at you with sad eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he whimpered.

“No, it's not your fault, baby, I just get worried about you, that's all,” you hugged him close, noticing Malleus staring at you from within the bedroom. He didn't move to get up, just looked at you for a moment, then looked away.

“You go back to bed, love, Father and I are done chatting,” you said. You watched Silver walk back to bed, shutting the door behind him. Then you walked to your bedroom that you shared with Lilia, hearing him follow close behind.

You snatched a pillow off the bed, grabbed your sleep wear, and walked back out, shutting the door behind you before he could say anything, and setting yourself up on the couch for the night.

It was three days before you spoke to Lilia again. Not that he didn't try. And not that the boys didn't seem to be trying to guilt you. You just…had to reflect.

Perhaps you weren't on the same page anymore…

That third afternoon, you went out on a walk to clear your head. Perhaps this was your fault. You'd lived with fae for so long, that you'd forgotten that there would be things you disagreed on, based on your species, and cultures. Perhaps you should have just talked to him, instead of being angry. You sighed, and returned back to the cabin.

When you stepped inside, you were greeted with soft pink lighting, and roses lining the walls, and windows. And standing before you, was Lilia.

“Before you yell at me again, the boys are camping outside tonight. I didn't drop them in the middle of the woods.”

You smiled softly. Until the smell hit you. Sevens. Lilia had made you dinner.

“I made you a romantic apology meal. Just for the two of us. And the boys were so sweet, they insisted on making things for themselves so that you and I could have all of it.”

You bit your tongue. He was trying to apologize. No need to say anything.

“Well! Dig in!” He said excitedly as you sat at the kitchen table.

The dinner was silent at first, Lilia eating, and you trying not to die.

“I heard from my queen. We can come back now. Though,” he groaned bitterly, “you have a lot of work cut out for you on your end, from the sounds of it.”

“I always do. Did she say why?”

“No, just that it wouldn't be easy to handle.”

He went quiet again, then put his silverware down, looking directly at you.

“I meant it. We should throw out our initial deal, and just get married when we get back.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

“Even if we get a lasting peace between our two kingdoms, it won't really do anything. Not right away. It'll take years and generations for our nations to fully achieve the dream across every nation of fae and human. I can't wait forever. And neither can you.”

“Of course I can wait,” you laughed. “Until we live in a world where children don't have to hide in the woods, it feels selfish to get married.”

He huffed. “I get that. I do. But what happens if it doesn't happen in your lifetime?”

“Lilia,” you sighed tiredly. “I'm asking you to respect this one request. I let you do a lot, live mostly the way you want me to, all I ask is that we wait. In the meantime, we teach our boys how to be good men.”

He looked like he wanted to fight, but seeing the certainty on your face, he fell into silence, eating the rest of the dinner quietly, then pushing out of his chair, slipping into your lap, and trapping you in a passionate kiss.

The next day was spent packing, and preparing the boys for royal life, and what that meant for them. And then, just like that, your days spent in the cabin in the woods were over.

The castle looked untouched, but the destroyed landscaping spoke volumes. Everything in your study was as you left it. But you didn't have time to enjoy it, because the Queen had informed you that your Queen had died, and left the Fae duke she'd married, now the king, with a half human child. Apparently, both of them needed you. You were sent on your way before you had a chance to talk to Lilia or the boys.

It wasn't for several more months that Lilia could come join you. He barely wanted to let you go. You couldn't blame him, nor would you try to stop him. You felt so ragged. So worn down. You just needed him to hold you for a while.

He told you Silver had to remain in the Valley of Thorns now that he was officially training, but that he had his birthday party next month, and both his queen and your king had given you leave to attend.

You were so glad. Things around here had finally been settling, so you'd hoped to come see Lilia and your boys in a more permanent capacity soon.

He'd begrudgingly left, his face pained as he separated from you.

You were so tired. And as the next month went by, you began to think to yourself that, if Lilia asked you to go forward with the wedding this time, you'd say yes. You were so tired. So much pain. So lonely. You needed your boys.

And it wasn't until you were at Silver’s party that you realized what was wrong.

You knew it was Silver’s birthday. But how was he eleven already? That….that couldn't be right? You'd barely aged a day, since….

Your eyes widened, and you were rocked with a wave of nausea. Silver looked up from his cake, his eyes wide in concern.

“M/F, are you alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah, I just need to grab something from my study before I forget.”

Before he could say anything, you rushed out of the party room, and into your study. You locked the door behind you, and turned to the mirror you had hanging on the wall.

You stared in increasing horror. You should be showing signs of aging at this point. There should be more lines on your face. More of your hair should have changed color. This wasn't right.

You hadn't heard him enter the room, but Lilia scared you when he pressed his lips to your neck.

“If you're worried, you're as beautiful as the day I met you,” Lilia whispered seductively.

“That's the problem, isn't it,” You laughed dryly. “I shouldn't be.”

You felt him stiffen behind you, before laughing it off.

“Well, you do need prescription glasses now, but I'll always love you, no matter how old you get.”

“Lilia,” you said, feeling empty. You turned to him, horror beginning to overtake your features. “How long did we live in the woods?”

“Listen-”

“Please, I'm begging you. Tell me this isn't something you did. I'll believe you, just explain what's going on.”

“Y/N-”

“There were no mirrors in the cabin, and I had no way of tracking the days…Sevens, you did that on purpose!”

“Now hang on-”

“What the fuck did you do?” You finally screamed out, the full implications sinking in.

He froze, his expression unreadable. Then he began to tremble ever so slightly.

“I can't lose anyone else. Especially not you.”

You sat on the floor, your body no longer able to support itself.

“Oh sevens…”

“I slipped a potion into your food every single day. It extended your life, and froze your body from that point on.”

“Lilia,” you spoke hoarsely, “why didn't you ask if that was what I wanted?”

“You wouldn't even marry me! Why should I have believed you'd agree to immortality?” He shouted, beginning to pace, in anger or fear, you couldn't be sure.

“So, what then? You were just going to keep me drugged on this forever and ever? When did you plan to start drugging Silver? When he's fully grown, or can you even wait that long?”

“That's not fair!”

“I'm tired, Lilia! Without you telling me how long we lived there, I can feel that I shouldn't still be continuing the way I am!”

“That's just because of the withdrawal!” He said, hastily pulling a bottle out of his pocket. “Take some more, you'll feel better.”

“No!” You pulled the engagement ring off your finger, and made your way to the door.

“You're acting like a child,” he shouted behind you.

You ignored him as you opened the door, only to see Malleus standing in front of it, an emerald fireball in his hand.

“Please, Y/N, just listen to Lilia. I do not want to have to hurt you.”

“Step aside,” you said.

“No. You're acting irrationally. You need to relax,” Malleus said firmly, and you began to feel drowsy.

“No, Malleus, this is wrong,” you groaned out as you felt your consciousness fading.

"I thought so too. But Lilia showed me that it was the only way. You both are my only family…”

You wanted to protest that this is not how you treat people you love. But all you were aware of was Lilia’s arms around you as you collapsed.

You awoke to the cold metal of a spoon pressed to your lips.

“Eat,” Lilia said lightly. He didn't seem nearly as distraught as he was during your argument.

“What happens if I stop taking the potion?” You asked with a glare.

He stiffened, setting the spoon down.

“You've already been off it for several months. I'm certain you're already feeling the effects. Your outside will remain the same, but age will quickly catch up to your mind and your inside. I give you three months before you are bed bound.”

He pressed the spoon to your lips again, seemingly believing that the revelation would make you want it. You kept your mouth firmly shut.

He stared at you, the anger quickly returned to his face. He threw the spoon across the room, then buried his head in his hands.

“You can't do this to me. You can't let me watch you die.”

“I'm going to do exactly that!”

“You! Fine! Get out then!” He shouted. “Give up on me and our dreams. I just hope you realize how stupid it is before it's too late.”

You stood up, your legs feeling weak, but you couldn't let him see the weakness. You might lose your only chance to leave. You stormed out.

You hastily packed up the things in your study, then quickly made your way to the training barracks.

Silver was taking care of the horses. He looked up at you excitedly.

“Hello, M/F!”

“Come on, Silver, we're going on a little trip.”

“A trip?” He looked around, but nodded.

“Okay.”

You couldn't leave him with Lilia. Lilia, the one who always claimed to love and care about humans, but who clearly didn't seem to think of them as equal enough to decide, or even be asked, if they wanted their entire life to be altered.

You saddled a horse, and and helped Silver into the saddle with you, then urged the horse to a run.

The sky quickly broke into emerald lightning and thunder, torrential rain soaking the both of you.

Lilia must have told Malleus that you'd left. Just like with Lilia, you'd thought Malleus loved and respected you. And maybe he did. Perhaps Lilia had twisted him to his view point, manipulating that pure love he had in his heart to his own ends.

At this point you couldn't put anything past Lilia.

“Y/N L/N!”

As the voice called your name, you lost all control of your body, pulling the reins and halting the horse.

You sat frozen in place, unable to even look at Silver, who was turning to look at you, asking in concern about what was wrong.

But you couldn't move.

“Y/N L/N,” Lilia floated in front of you, not so gently extricating Silver from the saddle. “Enlighten me. What gives you the right to steal my son?”

Never give the fae your name. You could cry now. The one who had warned you was now teaching you the lesson.

“I thought he was our son,” you spat.

“The paperwork only has me as his legal guardian. And you never married me, nor signed any adoption paperwork. So, what gives you the right to steal my son?”

You choked on a sob. And with a hoarse shout, you spat, “I hate you!”

His eyes went cold. “No. You don't. You will take that back this instant, and properly apologize to me.”

You found yourself dismounting the horse, tears flowing down your cheeks as your free will was gone, your name abused.

“I'm sorry.” You spit out. “I'm sorry that I tried to save Silver from a fate he didn't deserve.”

Lilia's glare sharpened. And with that he vanished with Silver, leaving you alone in the rain.

Nine years later

History repeats itself. Lilia had never expected his young Lord to fall in love with a human.

“I want you to hold onto this feeling. Remember that humans live short lives. That's the way things have to be.”

Now that he was nearing graduation, he was beginning to see what you meant about nurturing Malleus’ independence. Letting him go was not going well.

He sighed, having finally arrived at his destination. He held up the magenta rose he'd brought with him, staring at it. He still felt embarrassed looking at you, even after all this time.

By the time his head had cleared, and he'd realized just how far he had gone, it was too late. He was so tired now. And he deserved it.

This exhaustion. Was this what you felt in your final days?

He looked down at the grave, placing the rose alongside the others that he had brought over the years.

Nine roses. One for each year. None of them showing any signs of age.

Perhaps he hasn't completely learned his lesson.

He supposed he should bring Silver and Malleus to your grave one day. Maybe it would give Silver closure. Maybe it would remind Malleus not to make the same mistakes.

Maybe it would lift some of the guilt from Lilia's shoulders.

He sat down on the grass, sighing heavily. He was getting old.

“I have a lot to tell you. It's been quite a year…”

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader

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cookiesupplier · 2 months

Text

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Thirty-Seven

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd, readers beware as always lol.

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram @sunsshinesunny @malerieee @talialovesmiw @shilohrosechicken @thatchickwiththecamera @tamtam-elizabeth

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

Chris had ended up having to leave his friend a message on his machine as he was out that morning, he hated doing that as it felt so impersonal, and never wanted to give details on those things. But, it was over really, he knew that he couldn’t always be in the office. The soulmate tattoo science division was a very difficult line of research to keep funded. Most of the people in the field he’d managed to make contact with, even if just marginally over the last few years, all said the same thing. They usually either were extremely lucky with multiple grants, had side jobs, alternate research, or their research into the soul connection was the alternate study. There were some on the outside that sat the soulmate research as a hobby, but he knew they were all so very passionate about it. Sadly, none of them could dedicate all of their time to it, as it just didn’t pay the bills.

That was something Chris could understand completely. He remembered the early years in the band, working what was essentially a day job just to make ends meet. Needing it to make sure he could pay rent, buy food, have the funds for equipment, getting to and from gigs, basically everything the band could possibly need. So yes, he knew what it was like to have a passion project that was worth an absolute pittance. Unfortunately for most of the scientists he’d talked to over the years, their projects in the soulmate research, wasn’t likely to suddenly boom anything nearly as massive as the band. Not with the known track record so far. Besides, he was reminded science wasn’t just about making money though, it was about the discovery and search of knowledge.

He was in need of some of that knowledge right now, and not just him, but also Ricky, and Talia. Living like this, was driving all of them a little nuts, he could tell they were all on edge. Poor Talia, that panic attack she’d had, she had spiralled so bad just at the thought of having to face those doctors again that had treated her so badly. If Chris had his way, he’d shut that whole place down, who the hell treated people that way. What harm, what proof, had her family presented, that could have suggested that any of that was remotely necessary, even then, the doctors should have evaluated her themselves. He couldn’t personally understand how Talia could have met the criteria.

Just the same, once Chris had made the call, now it was just the waiting game, and checking the message board, cringing at the different takes of what others had of the illnesses that could be wrong with him. Oh yes, the imaginations of these people, they were coming up with everything under the sun that could be wrong with him, and somehow every single person, assumed he was dying. He supposed that happened when you were brought to that particular area of the message boards, it involved death to start with, so assuming death was involved, could be taken to heart. Chris would like to think he wasn’t dying though, he didn’t feel sick, no matter how much of a panic this was whirling around in him right now though, let's not think about that.

It was about lunchtime that he was finally able to hear back from his friend, right when he was in the middle of making himself something to eat no less, isn’t that how it always goes? When you have been absolutely dying for someone to call you back about a vital topic, you wait around forever expecting their call, but it doesn’t come. When you finally give up and get up to do something else, boom, you are right in the middle of what you are doing, and they call. So he was in the middle of making himself a sandwich when his phone started ringing, and he had to drop everything, he wasn’t going to risk missing this call, not this of all things.

“Micah, hey, man, how are you going? How’s the wife? The kids?”

While Chris had never met Micah in person, they had had some very long and in-depth philosophical conversations about the soulmate bonds between people. Even about the bond stemming between Micah and his wife and how their relationship had been affected by it. Micah had met his wife long before they knew they were soulmates, much like Talia’s friends Kyle and Jordan. Chris had enjoyed hearing about such a bond evolving differently somewhere else to, how the tattoos were different and worked differently for everywhere. It was amazing how that happened.

“They are doing well, and you, Chris, how is your work going?”

Chris never spoke openly about his work on the phone, not this number anyway, this was the office number. While there were other scientists that Chris knew on a strictly surface level, Micah he’d actually gotten to know a little more personally because the man had understood to some degree what Chris went through. He had switched to soulmate research when his brother had lost his soulmate while he was still a teenager, and the toll it had taken on him had been immense. Chris felt for those that lost so much hope at such a young age.

“It’s going well, on some downtime, which is even better. Though I’ve actually had some curious thoughts lately, one of my friends has been talking to me a lot about soulmate tattoos. I mean, we were talking about the different crazy theories and hypothetical situations out there.”

Chris knew it was a little unfair that he was telling his friend a bit of a white lie, but this wasn’t just about him, this was about Ricky and Talia too. He wasn’t going to put them in a position when they had to deal with a bunch of doctors if they didn’t want to. Ricky had said straight out yesterday, no tests, and Chris did not blame him, especially with how they were all connected, if just one of them got poked and prodded, who knows if they’d all feel it.

As expected, Chris heard a rustling of papers on the desk of the other end of the phone followed by a low chuckle, assuming that Micah was getting himself comfortable for this conversation now.

“Alright, Chris, you’ve got my attention, hit me with them.”

Bingo, he knew how to get Micah, he always liked to hear the latest theories that came about. Hearing them from people was always more interesting than trolling the message boards as Micah told him after all.

“Okay, now, I know that some of these just really got my head spinning, like there is apparently one that is about how the tattoos are actually random and work on hypnotic suggestion once they come in proximity to each other. There is another, that was taking about soulmate tattoos can sometimes change colour after a soulmate passes away, and become a whole new tattoo, which is completely ridiculous. Oh hell, then there was another one, oh, oh, get this Micah, oh you’ll get a kick out of this-”

Chris had a couple more insane ideas in his head to throw at him if need be, including tid bits of the way the soulmate bond that was affecting Talia and Ricky. The idea had been, was to see if he could see if that sparked more from Micah as he went. The fact that he seemed to be stopping his jumbled rant already, it would seem he wouldn’t need that after all.

“Wait a second, what was that theory?”

Chris paused, as if thinking,

“The hypnotic suggestion? Don’t tell me someone is actually researching that, are you kidding-”

“No Chris- I-”

“Because I swear if my friend finds out that he could eventually hypnotise his girlfriend-”

“Chris, that’s not what I-”

Chris was just barrelling forward, he knew this was probably a bit much, but his nerves about the entire ordeal during the night had gone into overdrive. Remembering how it had felt holding Talia as she cried, had him convinced that he needed to protect her from any doctor involved. Even his friend. Ricky and him, they were connected yes, and sure, he didn’t want either of them hurt either, but seeing her curled up against Ricky’s chest sobbing, and the thought of her broken like that again? Never. This was why he was driving Micah around in circles, and maybe one day he’d tell him, maybe one day he’d forgive him.

“Chris!”

“Shit! Sorry, Crap, Micah, you scared me.. What..”

“I wasn’t meaning about the hypnotic suggestion theory. What, what was the other theory you, you and your, friend, were, talking about?”

Here we go, time for the other foot to drop.

“Oh, um, was it, the uh, colour-blind tattoo soulmate theory one? About being the reason they are all only black or white?”

Chris didn’t know if he was frustrating Micah now, but he seemed to just let out a decent puff of air for a long moment then, taking in a slow breath.

“You mean the one about the tattoo changing, after the soulmate died? Like.. something anyway, sounds really stupid, right?”

Snorting derisively into the phone, as if he would have thought this entire thing was utterly ridiculous, and honestly, if it were happening to anyone else, he would.

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening.

When Micah started talking again, something in his voice had changed, even if it was just from him adjusting his posture at his desk, Chris didn’t know, but something had changed, and instantly it made the man wary.

“So your friend, was this his theory Chris, or yours?”

“We were just shooting the breeze and talking about random things we heard about in passing, they weren’t either of our own theories, Micah, why, what does it matter, why so serious all of a sudden man?”

It was making him very worried about the fact that Micah was getting so serious about this, especially since Ricky had said the remark about testing. Thinking about it now, sent a chill down his spine. What the hell was happening, Micah had never gotten like this before, never, he’d always been so easy going, even when their discussions had become extremely intense.

“No, no, Chris, not serious, or anything like that, I just, I’m curious. How the subject of tattoos changing like that came up exactly. Is this, something that, either of you have heard about from someone in person, or, just a random joke about in the moment.”

He was fishing, Chris knew he was fishing, and it was making him nervous. He pushed himself to laughed slightly.

“Why, is there something to worry about Micah? Don’t tell me, tattoos are changing left right and centre and the government is keeping it covered up, big conspiracy they don’t want anyone to know about?”

That Chris threw out there with a real-ass loud laugh, the thought that random tattoos could be changing and no one in the world would be talking about it would be laughable to him. The things he’d heard all over the message boards about the soulmate tattoos there was no way another person tattoo could have changed, and he wouldn’t have heard about it, no, no way. Surely not… right?

“Chris…”

“Yea?”

Trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible considering how completely unhinged he was feeling with the turn this conversation had taken.

“Has your tattoo changed?”

Micah knew his soulmate was dead, and Chris was kicking himself now for including that in the first place, about the tattoo changing after a soulmate passing away. Shit, maybe he wouldn’t be asking about Chris’ tattoo specifically if he hadn’t. What the fuck was he supposed to say, he had to say something, the longer he said nothing, Micah would know he was stalling.. The fact he’d paused, even for a second, he was going to know something was amiss.

Scoffing slightly after that second,

“No, stuff, the same, as always, still.. White.. Still… dead.”

Swallowing, yep, his soulmate was still very much dead, everything was exactly the way it was the last time they spoke, Micah.

As much as he’d called for answers, the cryptic way Micah was being, Chris wasn’t sure he wanted answers from him any more, something was amiss and he was nervous.

Silence met him again from the other end of the line, and just when Chris went to say something himself, Micah spoke abruptly.

“Chris, whatever you do, don’t call this number again, I’ll be in touch.”

And the line went dead.

What the hell was happening?!?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky olson fanfiction #original female character #soulmates #fanfiction #miw band #soulmate au #ricky olson fanfic #chris motionless #chris cerulli #chris cerulli fanfic #fic: every rose has its thorns

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vivakitkt · 10 months

Text

A place you only know

Synopsis: You watch as your Empire falls apart into ashes. But only one thing is on your mind. Your precious lover, the reason why you haven’t lost who you are yet. But the heavens gather his soul too soon. Any where he would be, you would as well. But this time it was a place they only knew.

Warnings: Cringe(?). Angst/no comfort, fem implied reader!(reader is suggested to be a princess of imperial blood), bad grammar/spelling, !not completely proofread!

A/n: this is a refined, improved version of other fix I wrote when I was starting this writing thing so I decided hey I’ve kinda improved? Let me try writing it again! So that is what we have here! With that being said(here’s the fic Heavens Promise)

Please enjoy!<3333

You ran to the burning enchanted forest at full speed. Ignoring the way that your feet hurt from being barefoot and the way the thorns tore at your dress. As you made your way over to the palace that was one your home now reduced to a giant fire. While covering your nose from all the smoke coming from the fire you frantically started searching around for a blue and sliver familiar uniform.

You tried yelling out their name hoping they would be able to hear you. Pleading that they weren’t dead just yet. Finally, you spot a glimpse of a glimmering sapphire gemstone immediately rushing towards it, jumping over the palace rubble and flaming pieces of wood from the villages nearby. Hardly anyone could tell that you were royalty by your disheveled look.

Huffing and running across the fallen trees and burning bushes as you make your way to them barely laying against a rock clutching their side. Not breathing.

please

No..

You pled to no one in particular but to yourself to ignore the creeping thoughts in your head.

Almost as if someone heard your call, your lover suddenly erupted in a unsettling cough

/name..do not grief for me please/ they said with the faintest smile on their face completely smoother by your beauty even in the state you were in. As they weakly attempted to raise their blood filled hands to your face to comfort you as they always had done.

/ I don’t wish this to be the last impressions of each other./ They grinned towards you, breath becoming more unstable by the second

You knew you couldn’t save them. But you were the goddam princess. The crown princess. From the earliest age you could remember, you were trained to one day become this empires empress. But look at you in this state. No future ruler should be sobbing on the floor, covered in blood, and clothes tattered. No ruler could display themselves in such a vulnerable state. But not in front of them. You no longer felt the heavy weight of the crown and suffocating glares from the other nobles. You had to grow up so quickly that you couldn’t savor the moment of weakness. Being a child. Being around your loved ones.

But now those memories were gone now. Burned away along with the rest of your family and nation you cared so deeply about. And now the person that got you this far, was about to leave.

/Do not be afraid my love/ they spoke with tenderness, clutching their hand on their heart

/We will be reunited once again and nothing shall stand in our path./ They said with one final breath and soon life fled out of their eyes. Slowly but surely, they were now gone. All was left was their empty body that once contained the most precious soul. Silence filled the air with the remains of the raging fire dying down due to your people coming close to you. But surrounding you felt nothing but your own domain of sorrow and grief.

You feel a burning sensation in your throat that just won’t go down no matter how hard you swallow. And a constricting feeling starts as you continue to struggle to breathe. That silence is not held any longer as a threatening scream is let into the cold air. Uncontrollable tears run down your face hitting the ground, leaving a small drop of tears that is soon joined by others rushing down.

You feel empty. But you have your soul. It was not taken by those above yet. But you lost your life. You feel hopeless and don’t bother to wipe the multiple streams of tears rolled off your cheek. Your eyes and nose starting to hurt from how hard you were sobbing. Your vision getting obscured from the tears that brimmed your eyes. You don’t stop for several more minutes.

The blurring of your vision clearing a bit now so that you could see the glistening sun hitting your eyes and various people yelling your name in the back. The lilies that gone through the blazing fires, seemed to have survived somehow. By a sorcerer or perhaps by miracle, they started to sprout once more as if to grief your lost loved one with you. As you began to recover and stand back up, you looked down onto your hand, that had been covered in blood and dirt, and stared at the ring your loved gave you as a promise. You continued to look at it and gave it a quick peak, despite how dirty it was, turned once again to your beloveds body and gave it a warmth felt smile before moving to where the voice led.

——————————————————>

Thanks for reading (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

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ragingbookdragon · 11 months

Text

A Broken Heart Must Be Healed On Its Own

Haldir of Lórien x Reader

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: But the pairing of Galadriel's daughter and Haldir is just *mwah* perfection! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was, the first week of winter by the time she made it home from Erebor. The air had chilled considerably, and most mornings were covered in a fine layer of frost before the winter sun warmed the land. Lothlórien was never known to have true snowfall like other places, as Lady Galadriel’s magic, and the forest itself was an eternal spring and autumn, but sometimes, she would awaken in the mornings, when the moon was still in the sky, and tiny snowflakes would decorate the kingdom outside.

Oddly enough, it seemed winter had blessed Lothlorien with a bit of snowfall as she quietly crossed back into the realm and under the veil of her mother’s protection. Her heart still ached, as it would no doubt for centuries after, but even elves like she knew that sometimes, time healed even the deepest of wounds.

She arrived, greeting the elves who bowed for her and ascended the stairs to her mother and father’s chambers. As if her mother knew she was coming, and she did—always did, the eyes of Lady Galadriel met hers, and she all at once was overcome with a great grief, crystal tears filling her eyes as she dropped her bag and fell into her mother’s arms.

Lady Galadriel said nothing, save quiet hums as she caressed her daughter’s head, already knowing the tragedy that had befallen the land east of Mirkwood—word had always travelled fast, as did magic. The adventure was one her daughter had to go on, to find something of worth for herself, not in material items, but within her heart and soul, and she knew that her daughter had found it, even at the expense of such deep emotion.

It was quite a long while before the tears finally dried and she lay against her mother’s shoulder, no longer sniffling, but staring blankly at the land outside the arches. “I am deeply grieved, mother,” she whispered. “For my own loss, but the pain of my friends, grieves me too.”

“Yes,” Galadriel murmured.

“I wish I could take their pain from them. It hurts me that I cannot heal their hearts.” She shifted as much she could, trying to get closer to her mother. “What good is my ability to heal if I cannot heal the broken hearts of the ones I love?”

Her mother’s hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing delicately over her skin. “Some pain we are meant to feel, hína nîn. It reminds us that we are alive.” Galadriel’s voice was soft but ever wise. “Your ability is to heal physical wounds, not the wounds of the heart. That is something someone must heal on their own.”

Pulling away, she looked at her mother, searching for something in her gaze and opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“I am proud of you though, hína nîn,” Galadriel said. “For you have done what was right. Stood up against evil in many forms to do justice. You have made us all here so honored.”

“I have only tried to live up to your own standard, mother,” she smiled halfheartedly, and Galadriel merely offered a smile of her own.

“You love has waited quite a long time for you to return home. Perhaps you should go and see him.” her mother gave her a knowing look. “It is, after all, the first time you have ever left with anger in your heart.”

She nodded, letting out a sigh. “I shall, but I would like to see father first. I wish for his comfort as well.”

Galadriel nodded, helping her daughter to her feet before taking her arm in hers, leading her to her father.

***

It was nightfall by the time she returned to the quarters she and her love shared. There was still an ache in her heart, but it had slowly begun to heal, as if the love from her mother and father was magic in and of itself. She pushed open the door, greeted by the sight of her husband bent over a desk, papers surrounding him as he rubbed at his temples and pinched the bridge of his nose. It reminded her of their last talk before she left.

“I simply mean I do not think this is a wise decision.”

“And I recognize this. Do not think that the mere danger of this quest is somehow beyond me, Haldir, or do you forget that I was once face to face with a terrible evil once?”

“That is not what I mean to say, and you know that.”

“I know what you mean. You do not want me going.”

“Of course I do not! You could die! Do you any how grieved all of Lórien would be if you did?”

“Life is not lived without its risks. This is something I must do.”

“Please, my love, do not go. I do not wish for you to put yourself into harm’s way as such where I cannot protect you.”

“I unfortunately cannot acquiesce to your desire, Haldir. I am leaving with Mithrandir at dawn.”

“I do not think you understand! You need—”

“Let go of my arm lest you lose it, Haldir.”

“…You have forgotten that you are no longer just your mother’s daughter. You are my wife. I am your husband. Your life is mine and mine yours. You are taking a risk without assessing my concerns and it is wrong. This is wrong. You, are wrong.”

“Then I will be wrong. But this is something I must do, and you will not stand in my way, husband or no.”

“Fine. Go then. If something befalls you so horrible that you do not come home to me, then you will know I was right.”

She huffed quietly and leaned against one of the pillars in their common room. “To think, my great, Marchwarden husband has met his final downfall, and it is not an enemy blade, but reports.”

Haldir jumped at her voice, startled eyes meeting hers as he rose from the desk, fingers touching the papers, but he didn’t move from behind it. “You—” he fell silent, gathering himself as his eyes became hidden. “I had heard you made it back to Lórien.”

“Yes,” she said, walking over to where a glass pitcher was; she poured two glasses of crimson wine and held it out for him. “Forgive the delay, I had to see Mithrandir and Bilbo back to the Shire.”

He came around the desk and took the glass but didn’t drink from it even as he watched her do so. “I heard of what happened…the battle…the dwarves. To think that you were in the middle of such a battle, I—I cannot even begin to fathom such a fearsome sight.”

She blinked slowly, gazing out towards the night. “Yes…a great sadness it was. My heart weeps for my loss and for my friend’s losses too.”

“Meleth nîn,” he begged. “For what purpose did you go on this adventure? Was such grief and sadness worth it?”

Looking at him, she smiled with great sorrow. “You still have yet to understand.” She turned, sitting on the bench, and gestured for him to do so; when he did, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Losing someone I love, is something I know well.”

“Your sister…”

“Mhm. But the loss of my sister is different from the loss of Thorin, Fili, and Kili. That was a loss I was not familiar with. That of losing a friend. Someone who I shared values, hopes, and great friendships with.”

Haldir was confused. “You went on this journey…so you would know what it was like to lose a friend?”

“You have lost friends before, Haldir. You know what it is like to grieve a fallen brother or sister in arms.”

“Well, yes, but—"

“You have no doubt heard of my mother and brother-in-law’s battle in Dol Guldur. Sauron has returned. Perhaps not in full form just yet like he was ages earlier, but he will come back to great power soon. Loss of many things and people we hold dear is coming, my life. I wished to be prepared for that loss before it happened.” She sighed heavily, feeling the dull ache in her chest again. “But my poor heart was not as prepared as I thought for the losses of my much-loved dwarves. There is a deep pit within my heart, not only for my own loss, but for the feeling of grief that my other friends felt.”

He took her hand in his and thumbed the back of it. “I am sorry for your loss, my love. I wish it is a pain I could carry for you.”

She hummed low in her throat and turned her head up, looking at him. “Haldir, my husband, I ask your forgiveness. In the end, you were right. I am my mother’s daughter, but I am also your wife. And I should have heeded your concerns more cautiously. I am sorry I did not, and that I hurt you. Of all my grief, hurting you is what has caused me the most pain. I never meant to, and I am so sorry.”

Haldir tipped his head to the side, a sad but fond look on his face as he smiled and replied, “Then I must ask your forgiveness as well. I should not have taken my anger out and spoken ill of your journey. To be so jaded to you…it was unworthy of someone who is to love you wholeheartedly.”

Lady Galadriel was the only one on Middle Earth to have seen the trees, but Haldir swore sometimes he could see them in her daughter’s eyes, like now as she smiled at him and leaned forward, nuzzling her nose to his.

“Melin gin, Haldir,” she whispered, and he closed his eyes, reaching up to cup her cheek, once more so glad to hold his wife in his arms.

“And I you, meleth nîn, from this age, to the next, and until the end of all time.” He gently tipped her head up and pressed his lips to hers. “I prayed for your safety every day,” he murmured as he pulled back, resting his forehead to hers. “I watched as you left the forest and all I thought was that I said such horrid things and I had no way of knowing if your journey would be your last.”

She hummed and he opened his eyes, gazing into hers as she professed, “Not even all the hellish forces of Utumno could keep me from coming back to you, Haldir.” Pulling away, she rose from the bench, stood before him, and held out her hands, waiting for him to place his in hers. As he did, she squeezed them tight. “I swear to you, here and now, under the light of my mother’s forest, I will never again stray so far that you do not know where I will go. And should I go, then we shall go together.”

Haldir stood to his feet, a burning passion in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “And I to you, that I will never again let you go alone. Wherever we go, we go together.” He smiled so widely at her, taking her face in his hands. “I have missed you so greatly, meleth nîn.”

“And I you, my life.” She pulled them towards the bed. “Rest with me and in the morning, I shall tell you all about my adventure.”

“I do not wish to cause grief, my love.”

“You will not,” she promised. “Besides, there and back? It is a tale worth telling for many ages to come.” Her eyes twinkled. “I fought against many things. Orcs, spiders, dragons. So many.”

“Did you win?”

“Of course!”

They fell into bed and Haldir held her as she snuggled into his chest; kissing her head, he said softly, “Rest, meleth nîn. I will watch for you.”

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starlostastronaut · 5 months

Text

DAY 15 | FUTURE OF HAPPINESS

PAIRING: yang jeongin x reader

GENRE: fluff, soulmate au

WC: 0.89k

CW: nothing

PROMPT: soulmate marks

i dont even know what this is haha. started as a fluffy soulmates, then turned to this mess. can you tell its my first time writing soulmates au? lol. i am trying my hardest to catch up so there will be more posts today! enjoy reading <3

title from neverland - zendaya

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

Soulmates were something you never really believed in. Everybody had one, and the majority of people dedicated a good part of their lives to finding theirs. You thought the whole soulmate thing was kind of stupid. Because even though one had a soulmate, it didn't mean they were going to be with them for the rest of their lives. A friend of yours decided not to search for their soulmate when they received the mark on their twentieth birthday, saying they were happy in their current relationship. And their partner chose the same when their time for the soulmark came. On the other hand, you watched another friend move across the world because of a soulmate, so you weren’t really sure what to make out of the situation, except for the fact that, in the end, soulmates are kind of stupid. Everyone told you to wait for your own soulmate, because then you would understand. But no matter what they said, the idea of having the universe choose a partner for you didn't sit right with you.

And until your birthday, that was indeed the opinion you followed. But when you woke up with the soulmark adorning your right wrist, something inside you changed. Maybe it was because you could finally feel the inner desire of your soul to be met with their destined other half, but you felt this strange urge to meet your soulmate.

“Stupid tattoo,” you mumbled, raising your hands to rub your eyes. As your vision cleared, you caught sight of the black ink imprinted into your skin. A heart made out of thorns. The same tattoo Jeongin showed your friend group not so long ago. “Fuck.” With a groan, you collapsed back into bed again.

When you finally made it out of bed and made yourself look presentable, you called Jeongin immediately. You refused to tell him what was going on over the phone, reducing the situation to a simple “We have a problem.” So now you were making tea, waiting for Jeongin to show up at your apartment. And he indeed came at a Jeongin-accurate time, which was exactly seven minutes after what you agreed on.

Jeongin came in, his trademark grin on his face. After a quick greeting, he sat down at the table, giving you a grateful smile when you slid one of the cups of tea towards him. He took a sip, but his eyes never left your face. How he managed to do it without spilling the liquor was beyond you, but that thought got quickly pushed to the side by another.

You didn't know whether it was the soulmate bond trying its hardest to convince you or you just never truly paid attention, but until now, you never realized how beautiful Jeongin was. His sharp, defined jaw, in contrast with his soft smile and dark eyes that lit up whenever he got excited, created the unique human being in front of you, completed by messy, washed-out-pink hair. His cute looks were definitely a part of his boyish charm, though you knew that if he wanted to, he could be the sexiest man on Earth. His duality was just insane, and you didn't know why you didn't see it sooner.

Jeongin cleared his throat to get your attention. “So what exactly happened?” he asked, tilting his head to the side like he always did when he was confused.

“Yeah, um, sorry,” you murmed, forcing your eyes to stare at your cup of tea, hoping to hide the embarrassment of getting caught staring. “Right, so you know how I was supposed to get my soulmark today,” you said, shyly looking up to see Jeongin's reaction. “Well, that's what happened.” You rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm across the table.

Jeongin's eyes went wide, staring at the heart. After a few seconds of silence, his eyes flew up to your face, then back to the soulmark again. He raised his left arm, showing his wrist to you. An identical heart was there; you both already knew it. But Jeongin needed to see them together to truly convince himself that this was reality. “You're not kidding, are you?” He asked, inspecting your soulmarks, even though it was crystal clear that those hearts were exactly the same. You shook your head and watched Jeongin's lips stretch into a happy smile at your words.

He gently grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers in a tight grasp and pressing the soulmarks together. Your hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, soulmarks perfectly alining. Quite literally, you were destined to be.

At the contact between his skin and yours, something went off inside your chest. Your heart was suddenly flooded with this warm feeling. It wasn't quite happiness, more so a sense of home and belonging somewhere. Belonging with Jeongin. Your soul found its other half, and suddenly it felt like finding something you never knew you had lost. It was beautiful. And judging by his expression, Jeongin felt exactly the same.

Everyone was right after all. Maybe the soulmate magic wasn't so stupid, you thought to yourself later that day when you laid on the couch, cuddled up to your soulmate's side. Maybe this whole thing is actually kind of awesome because it gave you someone like Jeongin.

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©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #stray kids x reader #soulmates #fluff

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bee-a-garbage-shipper · 5 months

Text

Game Of Thrones Fanfiction List

Bequeathed from Pale Estates By Author376

In a Westeros where Soulmates are bound and Marked by the Gods to bind Houses together and pay blood debts, Lyarra Snow and Oberyn Martell are about to get a shock…

Winter Thorns of Highgarden (FF | AO3) By Madrigal_in_training (FF | AO3)

The knight's supposed to save the princess from the dragon but here, the princess is a dragon, the knight is a bookish lord, and the greatest threat is either the old lady in the blue wimple or the honorable warden with the Ice sword. Because no one thought a second Stark girl would be kidnapped for marriage or that the sensible Willas Tyrell would be the one to kidnap her.

Incandescent (FF | AO3) By Madrigal_in_training (FF | AO3)

In a moment of grief-stricken madness, Catelyn Stark attempts to murder her husband’s bastard. Yet her entire worldview shatters when Lyarra Snow refuses to burn. Fem!Jon, Lyarra x Robb

A Golden Age By margotdavid (FF | AO3)

At her father's request, Alysanne calls the banners and marches south. For what reason, she is not sure, but as she meets the lions on the field, Alysanne finds that she was more fire in her blood than she though. Tywin Lannister is seeing his house crumble to the ground because of his daughter. Worse, a wild girl just defeated his army. But when the face of Rhaella Targaryen appears in front of him, he makes a gamble that might just save his legacy.

A Song of Vengeance (AWOIAF | GOT | AO3) By IWantColouredRain (FF | AO3)

15 years ago, the Targaryens were forced into exile by the rebel alliance of the West-Stormlands-Vale-Riverlands... and Dorne. To ensure the loyalty of the hostile North, Aly Stark was wed to King Robert's closest friend, Oberyn Martell. Now, after 15 years, the wolves and dragons' pieces are in place, and they will have revenge. (Role Reversal.) Martell Centric. Hiatus

A Song of Marked Souls (AWOIAF | GOT | AO3) By IWantColouredRain (FF | AO3)

In a world where magic remains strong and the Old Gods keep active in the lives of their followers, Alyssa Snow and Oberyn Martell bear Marks that, according to the ancient gods that lurk in the weir woods, destine them for greatness. (Fem!Jon Snow. Not for Tully fans. OOC!Characters)

Princess of Wolves, Prince of Snakes (AWOIAF | GOT | AO3) By IWantColouredRain (FF | AO3)

After the Lions' coup, Aegon VI flees with his wife, mother, uncle and cousins in search of allies and safety in order to regain his throne. But there is only one place to go: The Winterlands, the only part of Westeros to remain independent of the Iron Throne. Hiatus until summer

The Star of the North (AWOIAF | GOT | AO3) By IWantColouredRain (FF | AO3)

Just when Lady Alarra Stark feels she has no escape other than death, she finds another option in the form of a Dornish viper and his elegant paramour.

There and Back Again (FF | AO3) By Naerys Blackfyre (FF | AO3)

After the events of season 8, Jon of House Targaryen is sent back in time to fulfill his destiny as the prince that was promised. Jonsa, Gendyra, RhaeLya, Anti-Dany, Dany fans beware. AU! NOT ANYTHING LIKE CANON!

Father of Dragons (FF | AO3) By Naerys Blackfyre (FF | AO3)

"How did you know of this chest Sam?" Jon's eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. "Hummm…oh uh well Maester Aemon told me to give this chest to you when he died. He said that you would most likely be in need of them." Sam answers with a shrug. Jon stared at Sam with a frown painted on this face. What could Maester Aemon possibly wanted to give him? Jonsa, Gendrya, Braime, RhaeEliaLya, Anti-Dany

Lost Girl By prussianblues

She leaves the Seven Kingdoms a bastard and returns a queen.

Or, Joanna Snow is in King’s Landing when Cersei seizes the city, and Varys sneaks her out to meet her brother. A meddling Magister later, she meets Daenerys as well.

A story told in drabbles.

To Go Forward By togo

Jon Snow wakes up in Winterfell, two years in the past. He struggles with his knowledge of the upcoming wars, the mystery of his mother's forgotten letters, and the prophecy of the Prince That Was Promised. How much time does he have until the Others invade Westeros?

A Second Time Around By ratclanqueen

"I know this is hard for you to understand but we have already lived this life once. The Gods are blessing us. I saw this before the Night King broke through the Wall. We have been reborn into our bodies before Jon Arryn's murder with our memories and knowledge of what could possibly lie ahead," Bran told them.

When all of House Stark wake up one morning with their deaths being their clearest memories, the wheel begins to turn. The game has a new player in the form of Sansa Stark, the Red Wolf of Winterfell and the Queen in the North before her death, who is determined to see her family grow old and happy in Winterfell and the Iron Throne melted to a puddle of metal at her feet.

Dragons of Red, Dragons of White By NightDrake

After the Duel on the Trident, there are ramifications that none could foresee. In the world built afterwards, dragons once again rule and roam Westeros, among them the son of a northern beauty and the king. Prince Jon and his kin, Stark and Targaryen alike, face new challenges from both without and within. Whatever the future holds, the Seven Kingdoms will learn that, whether in a coat of red or a coat of white, a dragon still has claws.

Manners and Misunderstandings By mostlyclouds

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls.

Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage.

When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

The Conquest By DolorousEdditor

An AU of grand scale inspired by a prompt by Oblongata.

Three hundred years after Aegon the Conqueror built a new empire on the ashes of the Valyrian Freehold the known world is a place of war. The Targaryen Empire is pressed by enemies, the Seven Kingdoms war amongst themselves and forces contrive to pull them all apart.

Amidst all this are a prince and princess who fear themselves ruined by the horrors they've endured. Together they might be the hope their people are looking for. More importantly, they might be the dream both abandoned long ago.

A Caged Songbird By bikadoo

“I will be a silent, and dutiful wife,” Sansa spits. “I will be their pretty little songbird, and wear their ugly crown, and sit on their painful throne. I shall give him a babe, and my love, and I will wait until he thinks that he has won. And then I shall take his life."

Shae goes still. "You ... you plan to kill the King?"

"No," Sansa says. "I plan to kill my husband."

A Knight's Watch By DolorousEdditor

Jon Snow is forbidden to take the black by his father. Instead he sent to squire for a famous knight, beginning a long arduous journey that causes him to cross paths with characters he never would have. Along the way he learns truths long hidden and discovers love in the most unlikely of places.

All of this in the shadow of the War of Five Kings and the coming of the Others.

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zablife · 1 year

Text

Tachipen (Part 6) teaser

Ty to my readers for being patient with me as I slowly work on this series. I know I promised bi-monthly updates, but I'm not good at schedules so I'm just finishing part 6 now. I will be posting it tomorrow so here's a teaser for now. If you need to catch up on parts 1-5, check out the masterlist here. Until then, feel free to send comments to my inbox. I love hearing from you!

John clenched his jaw as he turned his gaze toward his brother. "You have no idea what I want because you never ask. Did you ever think I might care for Y/n?"

"So much you were fucking Lizzie last week?" Tommy retorted.

John lunged toward Tommy and Tommy grabbed him by the shirt front, slamming him against the wall.

On the other side, you jumped at the sound of the commotion, one hand coming to rest over your heart. The voices of the two warring brothers carried through the thin walls loud enough for you to hear in the kitchen and you stopped to listen despite your better judgment.

"What the fuck are you doing, eh? Do you love Y/n?" Tommy asked, searching his brother’s face for the truth as John pushed against him.

John gulped, fight leaving his body under Tommy's firm grasp. "I've loved her since she arrived, but Pol said to let her alone," he confessed, hanging his head when Tommy’s hand fell away from his throat.

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #John Shelby #Tommy Shelby #John Shelby x reader #John Shelby x y/n #John Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x you

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mysticstarlightduck · 7 days

Note

For the character dynamic asks, between Supporting Characters: What are their backgrounds and connections with each other? How do they contribute to the main plot? And, how do their relationships change over the course of the story?

(I like side characters ^_^)

Thank you so much for the tag, @diabolical-blue! I'll go with some of the most relevant side characters from Song of Thorns for this one!

Some small spoilers below the cut!

What are their backgrounds and connections with each other? How do they contribute to the main plot? And, how do their relationships change over the course of the story?

SONG OF THORNS

There are quite a few secondary characters in this WIP, and they range from secondary protagonists sort of characters to actually just side characters! Let's start with a few of them:

Tarrant - Tarrant is a close friend of Cyriel - one of the mercenary twins who becomes Roselyn's friend - and is overall rather important to her backstory. Tarrant is the twins' half (illegitimate) cousin and is the only family they've ever really known. He taught them how to survive on their own, abilities that allowed them to thrive and eventually be taken under the wing of a local bounty hunter. Tarrant, unfortunately, had his soul sold against his will by his parents to a cruel local mobster/warlord, Gideon Alameth, in a contract in exchange for a lot of money, and currently is looking for a way to free himself from said binding contract - he wants to be able to choose his own fate and no longer be the plaything of people much more powerful than him. He contributes to the Main Plot in two ways: 1. He has his own subplot where he is trying to free himself from his contract, and 2. He serves as a voice of reason for the reckless twins and is very knowledgeable about their lawless hometown's inner workings, making him a very valuable ally for the MCs.

Elveryn - Elveryn is a human monster hunter, the deadliest of the land. As of the start of the story, he is an antagonist, tasked by the King with hunting down and killing Renn, who is a dhampir, and bringing Renn's human associates/friends (Alaric, Roselyn, Orianna, etc) back to the capital for judgment. He is an infamously ruthless and resilient young man, whose hatred of monsters is only surpassed by his thirst for revenge and his grief for his little brother, whom he believes was murdered by vampires (and blames himself for not saving him in time, though he won't admit it). He is intelligent, fierce, and relentless, wielding a crossbow of his own creation armed with explosive silver bolts. He proves to be, over time, a truly terrifying opponent to the main cast, but there may still be redemption for him down the line. He is one of the most important side characters of this story and is a part of one of the most emotional plot twists in the book.

Aelia the Bloody - The first "successful" victim of the Sanguinex, Aelia was an innocent girl whose soul was bound to that of the eldest princess of the royal family 100 years ago (Princess Cordellia was dying from the plague that had swept through the land - which is very very important to the current plot - so the Royal family funded the studies of blood magic by human mages, dubbed Sanguinex, in search for a cure for the blood curse plague. The magic serum created was said to grant people vampiric abilities and more - and Aelia was one of the test subjects used by Prince Larkin - who is currently the ruling king of the city and the princess' younger brother - to achieve the cure, and the only successful one, the only one who survived. Aelia transformed into what is currently called a Faux Vampire or a ghoul and her now immortal soul was bound to the dying princess', granting her an extended life. Aelia was locked away in the bowels of the castle, and the princess never found out the truth about how she was cursed. 100 years later, now, Aelia has grown into a young adult - vampires like her age very, very slowly - and has been driven slightly unhinged by her transformation and imprisonment, though she yearns for freedom and revenge and wants to be reunited with her family (who are all long since dead, unfortunately). Aelia is the first person to ever be artificially turned into a living, or unliving, vampire, and is tied to the origin of the Sanguinex Arts currently wielded by the Royal regime. She befriends the main cast after they discover her existence, the first friends she made in a whole century, and proves a valuable, if unstable and murderous, ally.

Lady Elenah - She is Prince Alaric's stepmother and essentially the person who truly raised him, being a true mother to him. She is a very much motherly woman, and also has a fiery, loving temper that imposes respect in those around her. She cares for Alaric own as her own. She is instrumental to the MCs discovering some of the intrigues from the royal court and being a very much no-nonsense, determined woman, she is also important in other aspects of the story and is a very active character in the plot! She is also willing to manipulate others and lie through her teeth to get what she wants and keep her son safe, but would never hurt a fly if she had the choice.

Jasen Lethia - He is more of a secondary protagonist or at least very important character. Jasen is the older brother of Roselyn Lethia and him being kidnapping is the inciting incident that sets the story in motion. Since he spends most of the earlier acts of the book, until mid-act 2/3 actually missing from the story due to him being held captive by the nobles, before he is found and becomes an active part of the plot, he can be considered a side character during those acts in the book. I can't go into too much detail about him without essentially spoiling a lot of important plot points, but know that he is important to the story and is also a great older brother to Roselyn and Portia!

#wip song of thorns #writers on tumblr #writers #writerblr #character writing #my characters #my writing #writing #writeblr #my wips #asked and answered #ask games!#writerblr ask games

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zeciex · 7 months

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A Vow of Blood - 29

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 29: Little Nightshade

AO3 - Masterlist

In the halls of Dragonstone, a small boy, no more than seven winters, hurriedly made his way through the castle’s labyrinthine corridors. His round face was flushed with exertion, and his red hair tousled by the wind. Clutching a small letter tightly, he searched for the princess, his big eyes scanning every nook and cranny.

Finally, he spotted her on the battlements overlooking the beach and ocean, seated on the bench and wrapped in a thick cloak lined with fur. The wind tugged at it, but her gaze was steady and welcoming as she looked up at the boy approaching her.

The young messenger boy almost tripped up the stairs in his haste, but he managed to reach Daenera without a scrape. Gasping for breath, he waved the letter in her face, trying to speak amidst his quick, shallow pants.

“A-a letter has come…come for you, princess,” he managed to say. “M-maester Geradys told me to give it to you. He said I was a big boy now. That I could be of use.”

Daenera smiled warmly at the boy’s efforts. “Thank you. You did a wonderful job. I will certainly tell Maester Geradys how well you delivered the message.”

The boy’s eyes lit up with delight at her praise. “You will?”

“Yes, indeed,” she replied with a nod.

Grinning from ear to ear, the boy turned on his heel and rushed back down the stairs, his mission accomplished.

With the young messenger gone, Daenera’s attention turned to the letter in her hand. It piqued her curiosity; there was no seal on the wax, and its contents were a mystery. The handwriting, though fine, felt oddly familiar. Intrigued, she broke the wax seal and carefully unfolded the letter to read its contents.

Nyke umbagon aōha narys, byka sȳndor bantio rūklon.

I await your poison, little nightshade.

Her eyes canned over the words written on the parchment repeatedly, her heart skipping a beat. Alongside the written message was a delicately drawn illustration of nightshade. The ink-rendered petals formed a beautiful star-like shape, the thin petals stretching out. Her fingers traced the lines.

It was the details that gripped her the most. A singular berry was meticulously sketched growing from the flower, a defining characteristic of the most poisonous variety of nightshade. It sent a shudder down her spine.

The boy with the stars in his eye will capture your heart, but be weary of the danger he represents. Twin flames, one soul. This is the love that awaits you.

Daenera held the letter tightly in her hand, her heart pounding rapidly within her chest. The words on the parchment were etched into her mind, burned over her skin. Why would he send her this? To mock her? To remind her of the power he held over her?

He couldn’t be the boy with the stars in his eyes. She tried to convince herself that Aemond was nothing more than an annoyance, a thorn in her side, a moment of weakness. But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself. Despite her attempts to resist, she had grown fond of his presence in some inexplicable way.

“What does the letter contain to make you look like that?” Rhaenyra’s gentle voice broke the silence.

Daenera’s heart skipped a beat, and she quickly tried to hide the letter by folding it. Her mother’s perceptive gaze made it difficult to keep secrets.

“Like what?” Daenera asked, feigning ignorance, hoping her mother wouldn’t press further.

“Like you’ve come to a mournful realization,” Rhaenyra replied, undeterred. She settled down beside her daughter, her cloak wrapped tightly around her to ward off the biting chill of the wind. With a tender gesture, she brushed a strand of Daenera’s hair behind her ear, but the wind quickly freed it again, causing it to dance wildly in the air.

Daenera frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why are you out here?” Rhaenyra persisted, seeming to sense that something was troubling her daughter.

“I needed some air,” Daenera replied, hoping her mother wouldn’t push further.

Rhaenyra followed her daughter's eyes, looking out over the stormy sea, the waves crashing relentlessly against the shore. The dark, brooding clouds mirrored the heaviness of the moment, promising an impending downpour.

“What does it feel like?” Daenera’s question broke the silence, and she looked back upon her mother. “Love.”

Rhaenyra seemed to search her daughter's face, curiosity mingling with concern. She drew in a breath before answering. “It depends…”

“What did it feel like with my father?” Daenera pressed, her heart heavy with the longing to understand. There was no need to specify, they both knew who she was asking about.

“It felt… like coming in from a storm to warm yourself by the fire,”she described, a wistful look crossing her features as she recalled the memories of her past love. “The storm was still raging outside, but I was warm and content. It was… a solace. We both knew our duty and that nothing could come of it. We could never marry. It would have to be a secret, and he understood that. He never expected more of me, never… never demanded more.”

Daenera listened intently. There was a bittersweet undercurrent to her mothers words, and acknowledgement of the torment that had haunted her those years. Ser Harwin’s devotion to her mother had been unconditional, it had been understanding. Daenera knew her mother didn’t love him as she loved Daemon, but Ser Harwin had provided her mother with the solace she had needed.

“He must have loved you very much,” Daenera remarked softly.

Her mother’s smile was tinged with sadness as she acknowledged the truth. “He did. He was very devoted to me… to us.”

“And Daemon?” Daenera inquired further, her curiosity now turning towards the present, wanting to know about the love that now consumed her mother’s heart.

Rhaenyra’s eyes brightened, a coy smile forming on her lips as she spoke of Daemon. “With Daemon, it is like I can finally breathe again. It is all fire and passion. He is part of me, and I am part of him.”

Twin flames, one soul.

“He sees me, not as the princess, not as what others think I am. He sees me for who I am, with all the good and the bad that accompanies that. He makes me feel powerful,” Rhaenyra continued, her voice filled with emotion, revealing the intensity of their love.

“It seems like a rare thing,” Daenera acknowledged, feeling her heart twist in her chest.

“It is,” Rhaenyra agreed, her brows furrowing with concern as she observed her daughter. “And rarer to have found it twice… Why do you ask, sweet girl? Are you worried about your betrothal?”

Daenera’s heart pounded in her chest, torn between the truth and the pretense she desperately clung to. She remained quiet, unable to find the words to explain the turmoil that rage within her. The question she asked her mother had only led to more confusion.

Her mind replayed the contents of the letter, the drawing of the nightshade flower etched into her memory. The image seemed to mock her, a reminder of the dangerous game Aemond played. He was cruel, weaving lies and charm to ensnare her in his web. She couldn’t allow herself to be deceived by it.

“It is not about the betrothal,” Daenera finally answered, breaking her silence and meeting her mother’s gaze. The words felt rehearsed, and she hoped her mother wouldn’t see through the facade of it. “I know my duty, and I shall fulfill it.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened, and she tenderly touched Daenera’s cheek, the warmth of her touch a comforting reassurance. Her voice was gentle and understanding. “Those are Daemon’s words. If you do not wish to marry Baratheon, you do not have to. I do not wish to force you into a marriage you do not want.”

Daenera knew her mother wished to afford her more agency than she herself had had. Rhaenyra had wed Laenor out of duty. There was no more love between the two than that of friendship, and Daenera knew that even then, her mothers heart had belonged elsewhere–belonged with Daemon.

Before she could respond, her mother continued. “Is there someone else?”

“No, mother,” Daenera replied, feeling slightly exasperated. “I told you, my maidenhead remains, and so does my honor.”

“I trust you,” Rhaenyra said, a soft smile gracing her lips. She nodded her head, then continued. “That is not what I meant. Is there someone you’d rather marry?”

The question caught Daenera off guard, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. Marrying Aemond was an absurd notion, and loving him was a terrifying prospect. Her feelings were nothing more than attraction, a physical infatuation that she knew she must resist.

“Gods, no,” she replied, trying to mask the unease that tugged at her. “I… I was just curious. I wondered what it might feel like to be in love with someone.”

The letter in her hand seemed to weigh heavier, its warmth almost burning her fingertips. I await your poison, little nightshade .

“Daenera,” Rhaenyra’s soft voice broke the silence, her head tilting as her eyes sought her daughter’s. “If you do not want to go through with it, you don’t have to.”

“I want to marry Boris Baratheon, Mother,” Daenera replied firmly, trying to convince herself as much as her mother. “It is my duty, and it will secure the Stormlands.”

“Those are Daemon’s words,” Rhaenyra remarked, her skepticism lingering.

“They are my words. I want to do this,” Daenera insisted, even as doubt gnawed at her insides.

Rhaenyra let out a sigh, her expression both concerned and resigned. “All I want for my children is that they’re happy.”

Daenera forced a smile, hoping to alleviate her mother’s worry. “I will be.”

Whether her mother truly believed her or not, Daenera couldn’t be certain. Still, she reached out and took Rhaenyra’s hand, gently placing it onto the one that held the letter. She trapped her mother’s hand with her own, offering comfort and warmth.

Your first marriage will be loveless and your second cloaked in betrayal.

“Do you believe in prophecy?” Daenera’s voice was barely a whisper, almost drowned out by the howling wind and the crack of the banners whipping in the air. Yet, the words reached her mother’s ears, and her expression shifted with apprehension and unease.

“I believe to some extent…Why do you ask, sweet girl?” She inquired.

“A beggar gave me a prophecy once,” Daenera lied, her heart heavy with the memories of both the witch and the beggar. “She told me that I shall marry twice and that my first marriage will be loveless, and the second cloaked in betrayal… She told me I was destined for fire and betrayal.”

In reality, it had been the words of the witch that haunted her the most, not those of the beggar. But the weight of the truth of who has spoken the words felt too burdensome to share, especially with her mother. She couldn’t tell her about the question yet to be asked or the words given to Ser Harwin about the fireflies. It was simpler to condense it, to leave out the rest.

“I believe some prophecies are meant as a warning, as with Daenys and the Doom. Her dream warned about a coming threat. And some are meant to scare, but hold no greater truth to it,” Rhaenyra said, her grip on Daenera’s hand tightening slightly. “You cannot believe the words of a beggar. You are the one who decides your destiny, not a beggar on the street who likely spewed the same nonsense at others.”

“Ser Harwin once told me that to know one’s future is to tie a noose and hang oneself with it,” Daenera mused, the echo of Ser Harwins voice echoing in her mind, distorted and vague, like smoke filtering out into nothing. She barely remembered his voice at all.

The old knight had known his future, yet he had chosen to ignore the warning. It was difficult to fathom how mere words could shape one’s fate so profoundly. Was she destined to suffer as the prophecy foretold? As Ser Harwin had suffered?

“Do not concern yourself with the words of someone inconsequential,” Rhaenyra advised, trying to soothe her daughter’s troubled thoughts.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar pierced through the air, carried by the whirling wind, and a massive gust wrapped around them, billowing their clothes. Above them, Jace crackled as he and Vermax soared past, heading towards the sea. Following closely behind was Luke on Arrax, the dragon smaller but just as agile and swift. He waved down at his mother and sister.

“We are dragons, Daenera. Our destiny is different from others,” Rhaenyra reminded her, her eyes filled with maternal warmth and strength.

Daenera’s hand curled around the letter, and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

In the haze of his dream, Aemond found himself lying in bed, draped in the soft sheets that seemed to caress his skin like the gentlest of touches. He turned his head and saw Daenera beside him, her blue eyes reflecting the deepest of blues.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, captivated by her every moment as she turned, her hair falling around her head like the twisted roots of a tree. She smiled at him, her plump lips blooming upon her face. He found himself reaching for her, tracing the outline of her face with his fingers, savoring the warmth of her skin against his fingertips.

She leaned into his touch, brushing her lips against his in a chaste kiss as her heat enveloped him. He could feel desire burn in the pit of his stomach, feel it course through his veins.

As she pulled back, his lips chased hers in desperate need. She smirked at him, cruelly, wickedly.

His hands tightly curled in her hair, preventing any chance of withdrawal. In an impassioned kiss, he pressed his lips firmly against hers, savoring her essence with every breath. One of his hands slipped from her hair to grip her hip with a bruising force, and she willingly spread her legs for him, her pink cunt on full display.

With seamless ease, Aemond slid inside her, eagerly seeking the divine heat of her cunt. Her moans resonated in his ears, sweet and effortless. As he thrust his hips against hers, their bodies melded in perfect harmony, as if they were made for each other.

His need for her was desperate and destructive. A guttural growl erupted from deep within his chest, reverberating through his throat as he increased the temp, thrusting into her with relentless fervor. The sensation of her tight cunt embracing him, her moans filling the air, was intoxicating–primal.

Beneath him, Daenera mewled in pleasure, willingly accepting everything he bestowed upon her. Her lips parted to release a symphony of moans, her brows furrowing and her eyes fluttering as she lost herself to pleasure.

A faint knocking on the door pierces through the hazy realm of his dream, and Aemond’s consciousness stirred. From a distance, he heard the sound of someone entering the room, the soft shuffling of their movements echoing into his bedchamber. Sleep slipped away from his grasp like elusive smoke, leaving him painfully aware of his erection pressed against the mattress.

As Aemond desperately clung to the image of Daenera writhing underneath him in pleasure, it seemed to waver and dissolve, fading away into faint and blurry wisps. The dream dissipated, leaving him aching and unsatisfied.

Aemond found himself lost, drifting in and out of consciousness while the elusive dream remained just out of reach. His efforts to recapture it were in vain, and he lay there, the discomfort of sleeplessness allowing his senses to become acutely aware of his own arousal.

In an attempt to quench the fire burning within him, he ground his hips against the mattress, trying to conjure up the memory of Daenera. He envisioned her on her knees, her lips a delicate shade of pink and enticingly parted, her moth beckoning him with a gleam of desire. The image of her body became vivid in his mind–the graceful swell of her breasts, the seductive curve of her hips, the soft, inviting expanse of her thighs, pale and alluring as they spread open for him.

A guttural moan escaped from Aemond’s lips, his hands clenching the sheets in a desperate attempt to find release from the unyielding desire that consumed him. His hair fell over his shoulders as he rolled his hips, grinding against the mattress.

Aemond recalled the enticing shoulders she made, the breathy gasps that escaped her lips whenever he entered her wet, welcoming cunt. The image of her biting down on her bottom lip in a futile attempt to stifle her moans filled his thoughts.

Her resolve would crumble, and she would surrender to the pleasure he brought her. Her moans would fill the air, would resonate within him and coil in the pit of his stomach. Aemond took immense pleasure in discovering the precise angles and movements that would make her voice rise to higher pitches, her mewls becoming more urgent and desperate with each movement of his hips.

The way she surrendered to him, letting go of any inhibitions, filled him with a sense of power and satisfaction. Knowing that he could bring her to such heights of pleasure ignited a fierce desire within him to claim her completely, to make her his in every sense of the word.

It was a disgusting, wretched feeling.

Aemond shifted his position, rolling onto his back and propping himself up against the headboard. His arousal was evident, as his throbbing cock stood erect, pressing against his lower abdomen. The ache of his pulse echoed in it, urging him to seek release. With a deep breath, he spat into the palm of his hand before firmly wrapping his fingers around his length.

A guttural sound escaped from deep within his chest as he began stroking himself, his head tilting back to gently bump against the wooden headboard. The pleasure surged through him with each stroke, and he closed his eye, momentarily losing himself in the sensations that coursed through his body. The image of Daenera, her soft lips and inviting body, fueled his desire, intensifying the pleasure he derived from his own touch.

He imagined her hand, her fingers gently wrapping around his hardened length, and the memory of their first intimate encounter resurface. He vividly recalled how, in the beginning, her touch had been tentative, unsure of herself. But slowly her confidence grew, and her strokes became firmer.

Aemond mirrored her actions, his own calloused fingers tracing the shape of his cock, the sensation eliciting a sharp intake of air. He was lost in the remembrance of her learning and adapting to his desires.

The memory of her intense gaze, her eyes a captivating clash of hatred and desire, that stirred a deeper longing within him.

Aemond’s thumb gently caressed the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the leaking seed along its surface before trailing his hand down again. With each touch, he allowed himself to envision her touch, her hand, her lips, and her tight, wet cunt.

Every stroke of his hand drove him to the edge of madness. He imagined her soft fingers gripping him, her warm lips enveloping him, and the sensation of her slickness as he explored her depths.

His lower abdomen stirred with a tantalizing heat, a relentless fire that surged through his veins. His testicles tighten painfully, signaling the impending release that he craved.

Once more, the doors to his chambers swung open, and the intrusive sound of heavy footfalls echoed through the room as someone entered, seemingly oblivious to the notion of privacy.

“You are up unusually late, brother,” Aegon’s voice called out from the other room. The sounds of shuffling and movement followed as he made himself comfortable. Aemond could distinctly hear a chair being dragged across the floor and the clinking of cutlery.

Aemond’s frustration was palpable; the intense fire that had consumed him just moments ago now doused by his brother's appearance. His arousal weaned, leaving him only half-erect and still unsatisfied.

The sun had begun to rise above the walls of the Red Keep as Aemond cast a weary glance out the window. The frustration of his interrupted morning lingered, and he shifted to the edge of the bed with a sigh. Hastily, he hitched up his trousers around his hips, concealing his half-erect cock within them and loosely tying the lace to keep them in place.

Emerging from his bed chamber, Aemond found his brother, Aegon, seated at the table, helping himself to the food that had been brought to Aemond earlier. Aegon’s teasing grin greeted him, his eyes playfully roaming over Aemond as he approached the basin to splash his face with water.

“And you are up unusually early,” Aemond remarked, taking note of his brother’s appearance.

The lingering taxes of Aemong’s recent week-long illness were evident in his appearance. His once robust cheeks had hollowed out, giving his face a gaunt look, and his already pale skin seemed even more sallow. The dark circles under his eyes betrayed the toll the sickness had taken on him, and he had visibly lost a significant amount of weight.

Aemond had gleaned information from their mother about Aegon’s ordeal during his illness. The gravity of his suffering had been apparent –he had been plagued by relentless bouts of vomiting and shitting, his body trembling violently, and he had drifted in and out of consciousness. Aegon’s condition had been so severe at one point he had even lashed out at Master Orwyle in a state of delirium.

There had been a moment, Aemond had wondered whether Daenera truly didn’t intend on killing him.

Now that the illness had passed, Aegon seemed intent on regaining his strength by consuming whatever food he could find, even if it belonged to Aemond.

“You look dreadful,” Aemond remarked, wiping his face with a piece of cloth.

Aegon retorted with a sly grin, his appetite undeterred despite his weakened state. He took a bite of the buttered bread topped with strawberry jelly and smoked sausage, though it seems his sense of taste had been somewhat compromised by his recent illness.

“So do you, brother,” Aegon teased. “Dreadful and unsatisfied .”

Aemond adjusted his undershirt, smoothing out the creases and tucking his hair out from under the collar. He scowled at his brother.

“Why are you really here?” Aemond questioned.

Aegon feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Can’t I visit my dear brother without ulterior motives?”

Aemond remained skeptical, knowing his brother’s tendency to approach things with a hidden agenda. “You never come to see me unless you want something.”

Aegon put down his bread, brushing the crumbs off his fingers and fixing Aemond with a mischievous glint in his eye, a sure sign that trouble was brewing.

“Oh, you haven’t been told?” Aegon drawled, clearly relishing the opportunity to bring Aemond this information.

Aemond moved towards the cabinet, retrieving his eyepatch that he had previously discarded, laying his back open for Aegon.

Aegon’s voice had a sharpness to it, like the pulling of a bowstring before releasing an arrow, as he continued with the news. “Mother has received word that the princess is to be married.”

The touch of the leather eyepatch in his hand felt familiar, weathered and worn. Aemond simply hummed in response, concealing the emotions stirring within him.

“She has accepted an alliance with Boris Baratheon,” Aegon revealed, relishing in the stiffness that befell his brother.

In that moment, the leather strap of Aemond’s eyepatch snapped, leaving it broken and useless in his hand. His gaze fell to the broken piece. Ruined. Destroyed. Useless. It gnawed at him. He tossed it to the side and picked up another, placing it upon his face before turning to find his brother grinning at him.

“Does it come as a surprise to you, brother?” Aegon’s mocking tone sliced through the air, taunting his brother. “After all, wasn’t it you who offered Baratheon advice on how to win her heart?”

Aemond tried to maintain his composure, but the revelation hit him like a sharp blade. The information felt like a physical wound, cutting through his throat as he swallowed it.

Aegon’s laughter echoed in the room, adding salt to the wound. “Just imagine their wedding night! Boris Baratheon will surely ravish her, using his massive sword to split her open.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions surging within him. His brother’s words were like daggers, striking at his vulnerability and igniting a storm of conflicting feelings –rage, envy, and bitter regret.

“Does that bother you, brother?” Aegon jeered. “I mean, it’s not like there was anything between you and the princess, was there?”

With Aegon’s mocking laughter still ringing in his ears, Aemond gripped his sword and stormed out of his room with the excuse of sword practice. Aegon called out after him, reminding that the morning practice was long over, but Aemond didn’t care. His steps were heavy and purposeful as he made his way through the corridors of the Red Keep. Each stride carried the weight of his frustration.

He needed to clear his mind, to escape the suffocating walls that seemed to close in around him. Outside, the cool morning air greeted him, the son cast long shadows on the tiltyard. Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of his footsteps.

He unsheathed his sword and unceremoniously began his assault on the strawman. Aegon’s taunts replayed in his mind, clawing at him as he brought his sword down on the wooden straw man, the blade biting into it with ferocity.

Aemond’s grip on his sword tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. He wanted to forget, to bury the feelings that threatened to consume him. But each swing of his sword only seemed to bring him closer to the thoughts he fought so hard to suppress.

It was nothing more than a cruel fantasy to think it would have ended anyway else.

He growled as he sliced through the air, striking the strawman where his collarbone would have been, the blow reverberating into his hands.

Boris Baratheon. Boris fucking Baratheon.

With every swing of his sword, Aemond channeled his pent-up frustration and imagined the wooden dummy before him as Boris Baratheon. He visualized Baratheon’s tall, muscular frame, broad shoulders, and massive arms wielding that intimidating greatsword of his. In his mind’s eye, Aemond strategized how to defeat him, picturing the perfect angles to strike beneath the armor, where to exploit weaknesses in his defense.

Each strike was driven by anger, the blade biting into the wood and straw with force, as if trying to cleave the very essence of his imagined opponent. Sweat trickled down his neck, and his hair clung uncomfortably to his damp skin.

As the sun slowly traversed the vast expanse of the sky, sinking below the Red Keep’s towering walls, Aemond continued his relentless assault on the strawman. Time became a blur, and he lost track of the hours spent in his furious training. The physical exhaustion was tangible, but it didn’t deter him. He swung the sword until his hands grew num, uncertain whether he could even maintain his grip, yet he pressed on.

Panting heavily, his shirt soaked through with sweat, Aemond observed the strawman, now a mere semblance of its former self. Both arms were gone, and the wooden frame was splintered and mangled from his relentless attack.

Aemond halted mid-preparation for another swing, his sister’s voice breaking through the haze of his mind. Helaena stood nearby, her expression sweet and concerned. Her eyebrows were knitted together in worry as she observed her brother.

“I��I just needed to clear my head,” Aemond finally admitted, his voice low and raw.

“And has it cleared?” Helaena asked, head tilting as she seemed to search his expression.

“No.”

Helaena let out a breath, nodding. “I’ve had a bath prepared for you. Come.”

Aemond’s body felt heavy with exhaustion as he shifted on his feet, his weary muscles protesting each movement. His grip on the hilt of his sword remained tight, almost as if his hand had become one with the weapon. He knew he needed to release it, but his fingers seemed unwilling to let go.

With a deep breath, he bent down to retrieve the sheathe lying on the ground. He carefully slid the sword into its rightful place, ensuring it was secure before attempting to peel his hand off the hilt. His bones seemed to groan like old wood as he gradually loosened his grip, and his joints emitted faint creaks, the sound of a body pushed to its limits.

The muscles in his hand protested the release, but eventually his fingers relaxed their hold on the sword. He flexed his hand several times, trying to restore some circulation and alleviate the stiffness that had settled in.

Aemond followed his sister back to his apartments, feeling the exhaustion weighing him down with each step. As he entered, he was greeted by the sight of a bath already drawn, steam rising from its surface.

Taking a seat, Aemond placed his hand on the table as Helaena requested. She wetted a piece of cloth and began to gently clean the blood and dirt from his skin. The blisters on his hand were painful, but he did not react to the pain.

Helaena worked in silence, her touch gentle and caring. Once she deemed the wounds clean, she reached for a small pot and opened it to reveal a creamy substance. With careful precision, she applied the ointment to Aemond’s hand, making sure not to burst any blisters.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Aemond asked, “What is this?”

Helaena looked up briefly from her task, her expression softening. “Daenera made it for Jaehaerys when he fell and scraped his hands.”

Despite the pain in his hand, Aemond felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him at the mention of Daenera’s name. He clenched his jaw, unsure of how to respond to his sister’s revelation.

“What is this about?” Helaena asked gently.

Aemond closed his eye and leaned back against the chair. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his sister. No one could know. It was a wretched feeling, weak, and utterly pathetic to be affected by someone who meant nothing to him–or at least, that’s what he told himself.

The truth was, he couldn’t understand why he still cared so deeply. It had been nothing more than a game, a way to ruin and destroy her… but there had been a moment of weakness.

Aemond scoffed bitterly. He despised the way she made him feel, the way she had managed to get into his blood, the way she had poisoned him. It was infuriating and he found himself resenting her for it. He wanted to erase her from his thoughts, to be free from the torment of her–and he wanted her. Desperately. Pathetically.

“Daenera once told me that the distinction between poison and medicine is the dosage,” Helaena mused quietly. “It seems the body doesn’t know the difference.”

Aemond supposed he didn’t know the difference either.

It was later that night that Aemond sat down and wrote the letter.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #aemond x oc #A Vow of Blood

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abstract-crossverse · 2 years

Text

"Madness Day 2022" [Various x Reader, fic, either platonic or romantic, its up for interpretation]

===============================

Another say, another Madness is what youd tell yourself, and today was a somewhat special day, since it celebrated the day Madness came to Nevada

Well... It wasnt particularly celebration, as it sounds wrong to celebrate a day where many were killed ruthlessly, dont you think?

I guess... Think of it as a day everyone takes a day off, a holiday of sorts, where you all take a break from the constant bloodshed, even the AAHW would take a break from searching for Hank

That is if Hank or Tricky don't get bored enough to kill today. Which thankfully hasnt happened during this day in all the years Nevada has been the warzone it constantly is

It was also surprising because the Clown didnt bother killing anyone today either, nor did it pick a fight with Hank whenever they crossed ways, seems like it made a truce with Hank just for these days in specific

In fact, said Clown was currently sitting on your thorn couch, shaking wildly as always, you and the Four men you lived with standing in front of the clown as it looked up at you, eyes snapping between each as it waited for someone to say anything, bouncing its leg rapidly

You, Sanford and Deimos pretty much had the same stare of confusion, Deimos lit another cigarette with his thumb, taking a drag of it before blowing the smoke to the side. Hank glared at rhe clown, though you could feel the same amount of confusion in his glare

He had a truce with Tricky, and as much as he wanted to thow it out of his home, they promised each other that they wouldnt cause physical damage to each other as long as the other didnt inniate combat, the clown was a violent being but at least it stuck to its word, and Hank really didnt feel like being thrown around today, it was one o lf the rare days he could actually relax

Doc let out an aggravated sigh, rubbing his facial cross under his mask

"Clown, what are you doing here?" He questioned, arms crossed under his chest as the hand rubbing his face would limp to the side, palm up

"CLOWN WANTS TO SPEND MADNESS DAY WITH CLOWN'S FRIEND!!" it yelled, leaning forward slightly as happiness laced its glitchy voice

"we're- not your friends though--" Sanford spoke, though being rudely interrupted by the clown

"NOT YOU FOUR, DUMMY. [NAME]! THEY'RE CLOWN'S FRIEND!! :oD" it pointed at you, which made the others look at you in a small amount of shock, Hank glared at you even harder, you almost felt like he felt betrayed

"... Dont look at me like that, he's a cool guy to hang out with if hes not trying to kill people-" you crossed your arms and looked off to the side

they deadpanned at you, they knew you probably didnt mean to friend the clown, as they knew anyone who showed it kindness a few repeated times it immediately clinged to said person

You were a kind soul amongst many who had 'kill or be killed' engraved in their minds beyond repair, youd still be kind to someone even if they tried to kill you, albeit hesitant

Hank gave a disaproving look but didnt say anything, though it understood why the clown would think youre both friends, your kindness in this hard world could be quite addicting, specially for those who havent gotten a single drop of kindness or mercy for years, he'd know

"but did you have to invade our base? Couldnt you have called them outside or arranged a spot for you both to meet at?" Doc added, looking at Tricky once again, gesturing outside

"I MISSED THEM TOO MUCH, YOU ALL ALREADY SEE THEM EVERYDAY! I ONLY SEE THEM EVERY FEW DAYS, CLOWN COULDNT WAIT!! YOU CANT BLAME ME" it whined, getting up from the couch and immediately clinging to you in a hug in a blink of an eye, you flinched lightly, feeling the clowns arms wrap around you firmly, as well as its hand shakingly petting your head

You just accepted you're stuck now, Deimos groaned dramatically, throwing his head back

"cmoooon are you serious? You broke our door just because youre impatient??" He threw his arms to the side as he looked back at Tricky

Theres was a pause, Tricky staring at Deimos as it and you shook, you couldn't help shaking with it, after all it was holding you basically glued to it's body

".... YEAH" Deimos just looked at Tricky with a deadpan and Sanford facepalmed, shortly after, there was a little ahem coming from the door, you all switched your attention to the door

Jeb was standing there, a few bottles of soda under one of his arms "... Hofnarr said there was a party here?-"

"YEAH JEBBY, IT'S HERE! GIMME THOSE!" Tricky let go of you and zoomed to Jeb, taking the sodas from him "WHERE'S KITCHEN?" you just- pointed at the kitchen's door and Tricky ran passed you to it

Hank turned to the man in white "the clown told you there was a party here??"

"well, yes. And he wouldnt stop pestering me to go, so I gave in.. nothings decorated though-"

"yeah! Because there ISNT one! We didnt agree to have a party here-" Deimos kicked in, throwing his arms in the air

While the boys argued with one another, you and Doc went to the kitchen, where Tricky seemed to be looking all around, you spoke first

"Tricky, bud- did you tell people there would be a party here?-"

"YEA! TO CELEBRATE MADNESS!!"

"T-Tricky- this place isnt supposed to be known!-"

"how many did you invite?" Doc interrupted you, sternly asking, Tricky made a comic thinking pose, then counting on his fingers. You and Doc shared a look of tired dismay, you could hear Tricky mumble

"Coward, Jebby, Rat man, Gilly, Gunners... A LOT OF PEOPLE!!" It looked back at you both, smiling under its mask

Doc took a deep breath, getting more and more irritated by the second

"any.. one we should worry about?" You asked, almost pleading with your eyes that Tricky didnt invite any of your enemies here

"OH! I DID INVITE CHIMNEY SMOKE, ELECTRIC ELL, GOOP MAN, GEOMETRY BOI AND THE BITCHASS FIGURE HEAD!" it said, in the most innocent voice it could muster, you both looked at him wide eyed

"you WHAAAT?!?!" you both screamed in sync, catching the attention of the others, as they rushed over to see what was going on, you think you never heard Doc yell like this before, which even surprised you

Tricky reeled back, balancing himself in a cartoony defense, standing in one leg all shriveled up and covering his head with his hands

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND???!" Doc yelled, getting in Tricky's face, Sanford stepped, holding back by the shoulders "calm down, Boss, what's going on??"

"ah- Tricky invited almost everyone in Nevada for this 'party' he's throwing here." you explained, "including Auditor, some other guys, and Phobos."

now it was time for the boys to get mad, Hank marched up to the clown, grabbing it by it's jacket's collar and lifting it up "HEY NO! REMEMBER OUR TRUCE FOR TODAY, NO VIOLENCE ALLOWED!!"

Hank glared at it, shaking it roughly, it wasn't really violence if it didn't injure, that's his thought process at least, Tricky made a rattling sound, like shaking a rock inside a metal can "Hofnarr, what in the world?? why would you invite them? you know we're against them!" Jeb butted in as Hank finally stopped shaking the clown

"ITS A PARTY! AND ITS OFF DAY, I THOUGHT IT'D BE UNFAIR TO LEAVE THEM OUT OF THE PARTY!"

"THERE'S NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE A PARTY HERE, WE DIDN'T AGREE TO THAT, AND NOW WE'LL HAVE TO MOVE. AGAIN." Deimos yelled, throwing his cigarette on the ground out of anger, stomping on it to put it out while grumbling, Sanford was also annoyed, a grimace on his face as they'll now have to deal with most people who hate them, hopefully they'll also have the mentality of 'no violence today' for this party

"good lord now we're going to have to deal with them, if Christoff's already here, who's to say they're not already halfway here?-" Doc rubbed his temples, annoyed "could we just, yknow- tell them there was a mistake and that there is no party?" Deimos suggested

"NAH-UH!! WE'RE HAVING THIS PARTY WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!" Tricky yelled, Hank dropped the clown back on its feet, your buddies groaned and sighed

Doc began to give out orders, as their 'guests' could be here any minute, at least they'll have a plan "FINE- fine... but if we're going through with this let's at least make this a decent-looking party.. Tricky, since this was your idea, you get to decorate, but don't go overboard. Jebediah, since you don't live here, can you be in charge of getting snacks?-"

"I CALLED STEVE HERE, HE'S BRINGING HOT DOGS! AND GIL'S BRINGING BURGERS!!" the boys looked at Tricky with confused looks, you looked at them with a deadpan "Hotdog Vendor." you simply said, they let out an understanding sound, Tricky looked at them in disbelief "YOU REALLY DIDNT KNOW HIS NAME WAS STEVE?-" "no time for that, you can be upset about it later, Tricks. what else, Doc?"

"alright, still, Christoff, if you can cook anything, and if we have the ingredients, go for it." Jeb nodded, knowing he had no way out of this situation, he already went to the cabinets looking for ingredients and Tricky zoomed off to get decorations

"as for you four, start packing your things and leave them in the truck, Sanford, once you finish packing come help Christoff with the food, Hank help me load the things in, [Name] and Deimos greet the guest. k go go gO-"

And so, you all scrambled off, Doc rushing to the room he had the makeshift medbay in and you four rushing up to the 2nd floor of the building to your makeshift rooms, you had to room with Hank since there were only two rooms, and the duo refused to part. thankfully Hank wasn't that bad of a roommate, you just- woke up sometimes to him staring at you, either staring you down beside your mattress or from his own, it was a little odd but you didn't dare say anything about it, you also found out he sleeps with his mask, bandana, and goggles on, or maybe he just didn't want you seeing his face, which was completely valid

but it's not the time to think about that, you have to pack your things fast before people start coming in

god Tricky, what did you put us into

--------

thankfully you all didn't have much going on in your rooms aside from most weapons, this wasn't the first time you had to move locations in a hurry, which was good because you were able to load the truck with your stuff pretty quickly, only the medbay was taking a bit longer

Sanford was currently in the kitchen helping Jeb with the last of the snacks they were able to quickly make, and meanwhile, you and Deimos moved the broken doors aside so they wouldn't just be on the ground as people came in, Tricky did a pretty good job on the decor too

black, red and grey balloons around the corners, some paper springs on the ceiling and a big banner on top of the kitchen's entrance saying 'HAPPY MADNESS DAY 2022!!!!!!' inrg red, as well as an identical one on top of the front door

you just wondered where tricky got more couches??? once you came downstairs there was an L-shaped couch around the one you already had, which was also turned to the L couch, as long with two solo ones, and a few metal chairs near the walls for the ones who didn't want to socialize on the couches, he also replaced the tv table with two dining tables lines on the wall for the food

Gil was the first to get there, with multiple bags of burgers on his green arms, Deimos immediately lighted up from his grumpy mood upon seeing the Zed G03LM, rushing over to him with a greeting and helping him carry the burgers inside, the zed slurred a 'thank you' as they went inside

you just finished setting up some towels to look more presentable on the tables as they came in, Sanford and Jeb also came out with the homemade snacks they managed to make and placed them on the table, you walked to stand near the door to greet the next guest went Hank and Doc rushed past you to get to the back of the house to load the last things from the medbay in the truck, almost knocking you over accidentally, Doc chocked a 'sorry' as they left view

you just chuckled, this was a mess huh? at least things were done in time before most of the guests came in, the Hotdog vendor was next, still in his usual apron as he brought his whole ass cart with him

you greeted the man with a smile, who returned the same, he liked you, aside from Tricky you're the only nice client he has, though he's pretty sure Tricky is only more behaved towards him to get hotdogs faster since Steve didn't bend for rude clients

"Hey Steve, glad you could make it!" you said with a wave "Sup, [Name]! good to see you too-.. what happened to your door?-" "Clown." you simply replied, gesturing to the broken doors to the side of the house

Steve chuckled "well isn't that convenient? then I don't have to take the cart inside, could you help me take the dogs inside and hide the cart under the doors?-" "I CAN HELP! I CAN HELP!" Tricky zoomed beside you jumping excitedly like a little kid, making your clothes swoosh a little with the speed he came with-

the hotdog man laughed at Tricky's excitement, accepting the help, the clown immediately rushed off to grab a big plate for the hotdogs, coming back just as quick as both of them began loading the plate

you looked behind them and saw the well-known cowboy coming your way, you began walking to meet him halfway, he tipped his head at you and smiled "howdy, [Name], real nice seein' ya, I ain't late, am I?"

you chuckled at his accent, it always amused you "good to see you too, Sher. no, you're actually pretty early, you can get going inside."

--------------

and bit by bit, more and more Guests came along, first came some familiar faces, Skinner, Dave, Q-bert, Bossman- all in the same ride, then came the Gunner Twins, Crackpot- hell even Garrett showed up,

everyone was already inside by now, chattering and laughter around the room as Tricky chatted with Garrett, Crackpot and Steve about Slaughter Time, Hank just stood in the corned talking to Doc and Skinner leaning on the wall as Deimos chatted with Gil, Sanford and the rest eating and chatting near the tables, this reminded you of the past when Madness wasn't a thing

when everyone wasn't constantly trying to kill each other, the so-called Madness Day was a breath of Fresh air honestly... though you were still missing a couple guests, so you were just standing against the front door waiting. Jeb came up beside you, crossing his arms over his chest

"taking a breather?" he asked, leaning on the wall beside you "ehh, that and waiting for Auditor and co." Jeb sighed aggrievedly "gods.. why did he invite them, they were constantly trying to kill us."

you chuckled, giving him a jab with your elbow "because it would be fair for them not to be invited on an off day, remember?" you recalled what Tricky said earlier, you got a small smile from the older man, he sighed

"... this is oddly peaceful.. it almost feels wrong..."

"I know, right? it's so weird not having to fight for your life against these guys..." you thew your head back, gently bonking the back of your head against the wall, hearing the laughs from inside flood your brain, they actually seem like they're having a good time

silence fell among you both, as you just waited for the last ones to come, feeling the breeze hit your face as you occasionally looked around the land, eventually, Jeb broke the silence

"... [Name], may I be honest with you?"

"sure, what's up, old man?" you joked, looking at him with a grin, he shot you a glare before softening again, looking out at the land and shaking his head with a small smile

"you know, since you came along, things have been a lot more interesting... not much different from a world standpoint but- since I met you, things have been.. different."

"Really?"

he nodded "you brought some light to darkness, it's clear the others like you, you're a pleasing presence, kind, calm and playful, I honestly hadn't seen the four ever really smile as much as they do around you- well, I can't tell for Hank, but I can for Deimos and Sanford, and hear a smile in Doc's voice when you talk to them."

you almost teared up, smiling at him over the sweet words "oh.. Jeb.. that's-"

"Fucking ridiculous." you yelped as you were suddenly picked up, and placed on a broad shoulder, looking down, you realized it was Phobos- now you're damn confused

"Phobos?! you fiend, put them down!" Jeb pulled out his sword, pointing up at Phobos "do not point my own sword at me, Jebediah, I was there when it was made." the Director pushed the sword to the side with his hand "and remember, no violence day, Christoff~" he grinned behind his bandages as Jeb glared at him, hesitantly putting away his sword

"thank you for your patience, by the way, I was quite busy." The Director looked up at you, satisfied that at least someone was decent enough to wait to greet him "ah-.. of course, Director, welcome... May you put me down?-"

Phobos nodded, putting you down and walking inside, you and Jebediah suddletly felt a chill down your spines, you looked in front of you, four cores in different colors decended from the sky, taking form shortly after

The first was Auditor in all his red flaming glory;

Then the blue core, who seemed to have a water like consistency, although you could see what looked like glitches around it and deep blue eyes, they looked tired; you had asked Jeb before about them when you were able to, you recalled this one was called Conductor

The next was the white core, they seemed to have a more geometric or blocky take to its form and white eyes, seemed the more neutral looking of them; you think this is Deliberator

And next was the pink core, who has a goopy like consistence, though while it formed it seemed to fog in your vision, sure they looked a lot more softer then what you initially saw, they had bright pink eyes, look smug and ready to cause chaos; this must be Stygian

Jeb sighed, looking annoyed at rhe four "so you finally decided to show up..."

"oh shut your trap, Christoff, we arrived right at the time the clown gave us... [Name]." Auditor greeted you with a nod, which you returned, he began to walk inside with his friends, the other three waved at you as they passed you and Christoff

You waved back as Christoff rubbed his face "this'll be a long gathering..." You groaned, you laughed softly, hearing Tricky begin to play some music

"tell me about it... Lets get inside before they break tradition and start killing each other over something dumb." You began heading inside, Jebediah couldnt help but smile a little at your remark with a puff from his nose, soon walking inside as well and deciding to join Tricky on the speakers, faintly hearing Phobos talk great shit about himself as always

He thought back on what you two were talking about earlier.... This feels normal.. even with all the interesting faces of those who won their concequences from their actions.. it still felt mostly normal again, no violence, no madness, no fights.. at least physical ones for today

He sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips, until Tricky walked to him

"HAPPY MADNESS DAY, JEBBY!" it exclaimed, handing the other a drink... It had its mask around its neck and back, a drink in its other hand... Was he wearing his old glasses...?

Christoff stared at his friend for a moment, before chuckling and smiling at the Clown

"Happy Madness Day... Hofnarr..."

================================

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k-dokja · 2 years

Text

summary: lilia believes fate has a funny way to bring people together. or in this situation, a giant worm does.

the desert freezes at night but it burns in the morning. had it not for his sensitivity to sunlight, lilia would have relished in the discomfort these polarizing temperatures provide, even if he has to hide under many layers to avoid the scorching of the sun. it is a far cry from home, where the crispy cool is a constant.

pleasant to enjoy but build minimal tolerance for extreme changes and dull once one has lived for long enough.

in a manner, lilia enjoys the challenges these differences throw at him. it is pleasant in the worst way, he cannot imagine a better place to spend his freedom from obligation. this is meant to be a temporary trip, at best, he has duties back home that will become urgent in time, but for the time being, he will spend his time here in the desert.

this far from civilization, lilia is left to rely on nothing but his own accumulated experiences and a handful of artefacts he brought with him. all taken from recommendations by the natives of the silk city, a few old friends heard about his plan to venture further into the desert had cautioned him to bring them with him.

many of them are for utilities, but others are meant for the creature which has brought him here today. the devourer of sand, a beast of the myth, said to be hidden deep under the layers of sands in the region's desert. few tread this far into the unending sand, even those born on this very land.

it'd be an exciting challenge for him indeed.

as lilia goes further and further on the endless golden sands, his mind cannot help but think back to the faces of his friends who have welcomed him upon his arrival. it has been far too long since he last saw them. young soldiers they once were when he met them, during an alliance between briar valley and the scalding sands about a common dispute.

now, some of them have grown into respectable generals and politicians of their own merits. lilia's happy for them, but he also learned that others who he had known from back then didn't have the fortune of living well into their old age. a thought that saddens him more than anything.

had communications between countries been easier, maybe he would've gotten more chances to keep in touch with them. but that is wistful thinking, his duty wouldn't have given him much time. even his current trip is done with the excuse of bringing back knowledge and strengthening diplomatic ties with the silk city's leaders.

well, the latter might be a possible lie. the only strengthening he did was visiting a few familiar faces he had known from back then. their elevated statuses were happenstances. even if they stayed a common soldier or retired to a simple farmer's life, lilia would've come to see them all the same.

the heat must be getting to me, he excuses his own moment of sentimentality, ignoring the hum of cooling magic encasing him. lilia pulls out his map and checks his position again on his compass. his destination should be around this area, but there is no easy manner to pinpoint it. had there been any, he believes the people of the scalding sands would've known far before he did.

it might've been foolish to go out here alone, after all, sometimes, he cannot understand his own reasoning. with no other soul in sight to assist him, he has no choice but to turn back if this search proves to be unfruitful. what would he tell his queen then? that he failed? he doesn't fail often and he'd like to keep that statement true.

now, he needs to determine where to go on from here. maybe one of the artefacts would be useful⁠—

"thorn fairy's sodding knickers!"

or he can follow that, that'd help too.

his paces hasten towards the source of the colourful expletives he heard. however, what pulls him even stronger is the abundance of magical residues and the shudder of the ground below his feet. he abandons walking altogether and takes to the air once it's no longer stable to walk on. whatever has troubled his fellow countryman is moving this entire region in quaking ripples, a thought which fills him with equal elation and dread.

whatever suspicion he has is soon confirmed to be true: the creature believed to be a myth: the devourer of sand in its complete form. with its gigantic mouth of million piercing teeth, the hulking brute surges up from the sand and eclipses the sun at the highest it gets before gravity throws it back down to the sand below.

the momentum which comes with the previous leap breaks the sands. the world around him trembles. his heart races with both excitement and fear.

"hell takes you!"

the voice from before snaps lilia from his stunned amazement. his eyes land on a face he does not expect to see this far into foreign territory. indeed, this is a familiar face. a daughter of an important noble house in the court. although he has encountered you before, this would've been the only time lilia sees you outside of a formal setting. he does not know if it's a good or a bad thing.

but he does know that his heart squeezes with fear when he sees you standing in the direct line of the devourer's landing. before lilia can think better of it, he zips past the air and lunges for you. the energy of your magic rips out before he collides with you, but he does not turn to check where it hits.

"what—" you yell but the surprise keeps you from stopping him.

his arms wrap around your hip before he throws the two of you to the far side. deafening screeches tear out of the devourer's enormous throat. it is the only confirmation he gets that your aim has struck true even his interference, lilia has yet to decide whether he should celebrate or prepare for battle.

"what the hell!" you yell at him again once lilia stops a far distance away from where the devourer lands.

he continues to feel its rumble in the ground, which means your attack has failed to take it down. it is an urgent source of concern because a being that ancient does not take getting wounded well. spoken from experience, not of his own, however.

"i could've handled that!" your argument falls sideways since lilia has to keep an ear out for the movement of the creature. it has dug deep below after your magic sears into its flesh. however, the restless movements he's detecting mean this battle is far from over.

"you've angered it, that's what you did," lilia hushes, raising a finger to stop you, "you're fortunate that i've arrived, how—why did you even think you can face this creature?"

"i have to," you grumble, "a devourer of the sand's blood has many counteractive properties which can disp—"

before you can explain in completion, lilia overhears movements far too concerning to stand by. the rumble of the ground is breaking with increasing speed from underneath him. it takes every shred of bravery in him to wait until he sees the enemy.

true enough, the devourer springs out from the sand underneath him the immediate moment after. its mouth is an endless abyss when it opens in front of his eyes. he grabs hold of you, but it is unnecessary, you take flight with him the moment the creature reappears.

"as i was saying," you continue as the two of you watch the devourer hurls back into the sand, "the sources are sketchy at best, but it has been mentioned in multiple records that the oversized worm can dispel the horrid effects of the bloom of eternal desert."

smoothly, you begin to form magic between your gloved hands again. your magestone is imbued into the leather material, it gleams a violent purple under the sunlight.

lilia frowns, "that's a cursed flower... isn't it a myth?" his own hands tingle from the magic he draws with his own magestone. power accumulates in huge surges around him, and you smile in approval.

"so was the devourer, wasn't it?"

the answer comes in the colossal worm which leaps out from the trembling sand below. lilia has faced many creatures in his life, but truly, the devourer is a sight to behold in its size alone.

however, it is its howls of pain which bring pleasure to his ears.

lilia stares at the corpse in front of him, not really knowing what to make of it. he has promised his liege information in exchange for momentary freedom. now that he has acquired what he came here for... he cannot help but feel a bit apprehended.

you squat down next to his side, dutifully collecting samples from the creatures in bulk. the small sachet you wear has an infinite capacity from its appearance. after scalping what would be half of the creature for its flesh, blood, and hide, you straighten up and stretch out your back.

"well, you really pushed the process, general vanrouge," you grin, "you have my thanks, it'd have been arduous otherwise."

"you know, most people wouldn't immediately go for a giant worm to save their friend," he points out with an uncertain smile, equal fascinated and concerned.

however, you only face him with a shrug, "nothing compared to the outrageous accomplishments of the great general vanrouge," you say, "besides, from what i heard, based on the sketchy source, this is only a small one."

"please, just lilia is fine," then, something you said makes him double-take, "wait, did you say this is a small one?"

you give him that smile again, the same one you showed him when he decided to help you fight. "yep, supposedly, this is only a mature devourer. i need to study it further to ascertain but this one is around a thousand years old, at best. creatures such as these often have a "mother" with age dates bad at least decamillenniums. far preceding the existence of human civilization, probably not fae's though."

"huh, fascinating," lilia says, "i have researched the creature for my trip but most of my sources see the devourer as a myth at best. yet, thorn fairy preserves me, here i stand next to a rotting devourer that has no business stinking this much after its recent death."

then, a smile crawls on his lips, slow and deadly. "why... i cannot help but feel curious about these sources of yours?"

his probing backfires when you show no hurry to reply. under the weight of your assessing eyes, lilia cannot help but feel a bit vulnerable, even if his strength far outweighs yours. then, you mirror the very same smile he gave you the moment earlier. "a lady never tells her secret," you tap the side of your nose and wink, "you should know better than to ask, lilia."

"not even for your new good friend who had helped you with the devourer?"

you pretend to think it over, but he knows you have no intention of divulging anything from the grin on your face, "nope, not even my new good friend," you tap the side of your cheek with your index finger, "but how about this? i'll treat you to a meal once we're back in the cities. that should make us even."

lilia interjects readily, "how can a meal compare—"

"because i'm saving you from this."

lilia blinks. only once before he's snatched away by you. the two of you must've gotten at least ten miles away from the worm before he understands what you meant. the shockwave hits him with a stench that he can only associate with the dead worm he defeated earlier. from the exploding blood that he's seeing, lilia can surmise that the worm combusts within a short time span after its demise.

no longer why people who have encountered it did not live to tell the tale about its discovery, that is to say, if they defeated it, to begin with. once he recovers from the surprise, lilia joins you in flying even if being held by you has been weirdly comfortable. you beam at him, and for once, lilia has found something which rivals the moon. "so, are we even?"

lilia laughs, "maybe i should be the one to buy you dinner instead."

you join in with his laughter, the melody of your joy is far more beautiful than he has ever heard in his life, "deal."

#lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #fics

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saph-writes · 11 months

Text

The [Blue] Pale Spirit, Singing - Chapter 1

ao3 link:

Summary:

"In a world of monsters and magic, it is one’s soulmark that decides their humanity."

Ness is the righthand man to Prince Kaiser, the beloved ruler of the kingdom who is set to inherit the throne on his 18th birthday after the reveal of his soulmate during the soul ceremony. Until then, Ness is sworn to stay loyal by his side. At least he pretends to.

While Prince Kaiser’s a powerless figurehead, his advising council rules from the shadows with the power of the kingdom right in the palm of their hand. And this “Inner Circle” has no intention of handing their power over. As they work to stop the soul ceremony, Ness becomes their spy, reporting every move of the Prince to make sure he does not get in their way. After all, what would he do with himself if he were to let them down?

However when Prince Kaiser starts acting strangely, Ness finds himself getting closer to the Prince. Everything he thought he knew begins to shatter into pieces, both about his reality and about himself.

And yet.. in its place comes something familiar, as he goes from bearing the singe of burning guilt to becoming all too comfortable with the thorns of a blue rose.

Or the soulmate fantasy royalty kainess au no one asked for

Words: 10590

“Have you heard the tale?”

“What tale?”

“The story of the boy from the stars.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Long ago, in this kingdom, there was a baby born without a soul mark. The royal nurses searched and examined and inspected for hours, but nothing resembling a mark was ever found on the boy’s body. Only after some tests were performed could they confirm that the baby was human. It was the first human without a soul mark in thousands of years.”

“Well, was he sentient? Or was he emotionless?”

“Hard to say. The boy cried oudly, and only stopped when in the hands of his mother. Witnesses said that if they weren’t told the situation, they would’ve thought he was just a normal human boy. But of course there were defects. He had no magic, he was weak, he was frail, he was on the verge of dying.”

“And the mother?”

“Oh.. The mother hated the boy. When she found out about her son’s lack of a soul mark, she told the royal staff to kill it. She yelled over and over.‘That is not my son. That is a monster.’”

“Ah, I can’t blame her I guess…”

“After a while, they eventually obliged. They went outside, into the forests encircling the village, into a secret place where there were no towns or people in sight, and they left it in the forest to die alone. Right in the freezing cold of winter, when monsters are at their most active. And yet….”

“What?”

“Nothing, it's just that this is where it gets creepy. When the royal staff came by again the next day, the boy had disappeared without a trace. They searched for hours and hours, all while the mother screamed at them to kill it, but nothing at all. It was like it was never there to begin with.”

“Woah, that is scary… could it be that it got eaten by monsters?”

“Maybe. No one knows. It still remains a mystery to this day. Did the boy die that day? Was it found? Did it end up living? Or was it something more? Most say that perhaps it was a gift from the stars, given to provide good fortune to the kindest of people, hence the name. Others say it is a curse, meant to haunt the forest to this very day, bringing any stranglers it finds to their final doom.”

“Ah, you know I don’t like scary stories, …. but for the boy’s sake, I hope it passed away peacefully that day.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that… imagine how horrible that would be. To live without a soul mark. I don’t think even I could bear it…”

“I agree. Can you imagine? A life without a soulmate. Personally… I think I would go insane from the loneliness.”

Don’t you think?

The sun has always had some sort of magical ability to it. Especially when it sits high on the sky, flaring and shining its absolute brightest, so far out of hand’s reach.

Light sweeping through, its rays allow anything or anyone it touches to glimmer like a jewel. To glimmer and glisten bindingly. A sort of radiance that draws people towards it, like a moth to a flame.

But for one person, it exceeds far beyond what any of them could have imagined.

Whispered to be the sun’s favorite, they hold a captivating aura that puts them above everything. Placed above everything. Left to be towering above the ground.

They are worshipped, and pleaded to. Loved. Perfect.

They should be standing in the sky only next to the clouds and hidden stars. Right where the other gods would be.

And yet, this mystical being is not doing any of those things. They do not stand in solidarity with those burnt out points of light, they do not watch over from their place in the sky, they are not even out of hand’s reach. Even with the power to be greater than life itself, they decide to stay on the ground. Walking amongst them. Almost like they are pretending to be a simple mortal human themselves. Nothing more.

The sight is astounding. Everyone can agree on that. Because no matter how such an individual may try to hide it, the fact is simple.

Nothing in this world will glimmer more than the vivid blue roses on Prince Kaiser’s neck.

With the help of the glimmering light, the blue roses appear like sapphires. And not just any sapphires. Encased sapphires, placed behind a glass barrier, riddled with fingerprints from all of those who stand to marvel at the untouchable beauty. Their faces press against the glass, to get just a touch, or a piece of their radiance.

But just like every other time, it remains useless. The barrier is impenetrable. As a result, the townspeople are left to stand by, and whisper to soothe their own infatuation. They do not even try to hide their conversations.

“See! Look, there he comes!”

“Oh, he is, he is!”

“Oh, how is it possible that he has grown even more beautiful than before!?”

“If I were the sun, I would simply hide beneath the clouds. To stand in the same presence of someone so radiant! What does the sun hold to him?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all, perfection can not be outshone!”

“Oh, he’s looking, he’s looking!”

The crowds of townsfolk move away to the edges of the paved walkways, opening up to allow the royal bodyguards to march along the center.

Four towering muscular men, with broad shoulders and stern faces, form a square formation. In each of their hands is a metal device. They grasp tightly on the handle and at the end, a circular round tip sticks out with an oversized marble engraved on either side. Their steps are heavy and wide, breaking apart the crowd forcibly, no matter how tightly packed it is.

A glass barrier, created by their figures.

For in the center of the 4, the marvelled earth-bound spectacle, walked none other than Prince Kaiser.

To say Prince Kaiser was admired by everyone would be an understatement. The change in atmosphere when he walked into a room is more than enough evidence, or in this instance, when he walked into a town.

He is stunning, with an angular porcelain face and blond hair with vibrant blue tips. His eyes are the same piercing blue where the red eyeshadow frames it, and it gives the appearance that they are meant to complement his most important feature: the collection of the blue roses soul mark on his neck, the mark of his royal blood.

Gossip circulates endlessly on the hidden personality of the Prince. He is cunning, intelligent, highly perceptive; he is the heir, after all. Some take in his aloof and indifferent attitude and say he is, in actuality, flirty, cocky, and bold.

It is said that if you are lucky enough, you might be able to catch his eye and see this for yourself. Catch the child-like part of the soon-to-be king who is all over impressing his own personal favorites, his new toys to play with.

And if you are even luckier, and born on the same year and day as he is, you might even be realized as his soulmate. Then, the secrets beneath the encasing will all be revealed to you, and you alone. Such a high honor it is to be his soulmate, so much so that becoming Queen or King would be a side achievement.

Yet with such a tale, one should not get too excited. To be his soulmate is a 1 in a million chance, yet to be captivated by him happens all too often. Just staying too close in it of itself can cause this brutal mistake to happen, and it takes only an instant to be utterly entranced, and unsalvageable.

All whispers, all tales and stories of imagination running wild.

Ness knows them more than anyone.

In the center of the formation of the bodyguards, to the back right side of Prince Kaiser, yet completely in his shadow, Ness watches the townspeople crowded all around.

His place in the barrier allows for him to have a full view of whatever is outside of it, but especially to keep an close eye on Prince Kaiser. Kaiser’s movements are precise and practiced, and each turn of his head is robotic in nature, as expected of a Prince. Ness should always be focused solely on him when they are on these trips, and yet the unavoidable gossip creeps in Ness’s mind. As they always did.

Prince Kaiser’s eyes scan all over, searching by the looks of it, but occasionally he would find the stare of a particular enthusiastic fan, and humor them with a small smile. Squeals would arise, and Ness would have sworn he heard the plant on the ground of a fainted girl.

Out of the huddled bodies, a young girl breaks out. Her eyes are fixed on Kaiser, and she holds something small in her hands, close to her chest. She runs up to the group. Before the girl holds out her hand for the guards to scan, Ness catches a glimpse of her soul mark.

Back of the hand, a swirly heart key, colored fuschia pink.

She is permitted in and nearly skips away guards. A few feet away from Prince Kaiser, with a bodyguard on either side, she holds out her open palms. Ness can not see Kaiser’s face, but he is sure he is giving yet another small smile.

“P-Prince Kaiser, in celebration of your upcoming soul ceremony, I have made you a gift! Please, accept this!” She threw her head down into a bow. Her body, her arms, are shaking, trembling.

In her outstretched hands, a simple pink rose overflow her palms. Not a natural rose, a fake one, made up of fabrics sewn together and folded to form its petals. A decorative gift it seems, and by the looks of it, a harmless one at that. Ness stays in his position, his head perfectly forward and his arms folded behind his back, as Kaiser speaks.

“My apologies, but I can not accept such a beautifully crafted gift. Keep it. Your talents should be cherished by yourself.”

“Oh, no need to be modest! It would be an honor to have a small insignificant craft of my own to be in your possession, the highest of honors! I implore you, you must not worry at all!”

Her head is up now, and boldness sparkles in her eyes. It occurs to Ness that this girl is quite beautiful in her own right, even if the shine she gives off is in dim comparison to the Prince’s starry radiance. A shame that her desperation sours it. Ness looks sadly at the girl. Prince Kaiser’s presence on his right weighs the atmosphere, like a scale all too uneven.

“Very well. You may hand it to my courtier.”

The sparkle in the girl’s eyes flickers and falls upon Ness, seemingly having just noticed him. But whatever had burned out in her expression is quickly retrieved once again, and she hands the fragile rose out to him.

In his palms, Ness notices the softness of the petals’ fabrics. Like a cloud has been taken from the sky and planted before him. He can feel the state of the atmosphere and the sun’s rays and soft breeze, all captured for display, for a taste of the world.

With a bow, the girl scurries off, and Ness is snapped out of his delusion.

A few other townspeople also came up to Prince Kaiser, old and young, women and men alike. Some had gifts, like the girl, and complimented his soul mark that has been rapidly growing into its own shape. Just a few short months away, they would say, excitement prevalent in their voice. Others made simple conversation, and used the opportunity to provide and gain more gossip. A few words from the Prince was always enough to make them satisfied, and they would walk off content, like their intention was just getting close enough to catch enough of his starlight. Nonetheless, Kaiser’s reactions were all typical and nothing out of the ordinary, so Ness had no reason to pay these interactions any mind.

He only made sure he could see each soul mark of the approaching people when they were scanned by the guards. He still has a royal duty to uphold after all.

They end up walking for another short few minutes before Prince Kaiser holds out his hand to stop. His other arm stays folded behind his back and his head turns slightly in either direction, peering across the plaza.

Being the middle of the week, the marketplace is not busy. Even right now, when the Prince himself has made a visit down, the crowds of people are significantly smaller than they would be on the weekends. Ness looks around the plaza.

The largest, liveliest place in Teno, perhaps in all of Colluhira, has dozens of rows containing market stalls and shops galore. The walkways between the rows are wider than the typical Teno roads and the entire marketplace takes up a sizable amount of the small town. It is well known that anything from anything can be found here, and ran by the citizens themselves, there are little limits on what one can sell.

Surely if Prince Kaiser has come all the way here himself, he is looking for something precious and rare. In fact, it seems he already knows where to find it.

Ness narrows his eyes and sticks close behind his shoulder.

Kaiser turns back to the guards.

“I will not be long,” he says, very clearly stepping out of the barrier they made. The guards look at each other and to the Prince with hesitance, but they comply nonetheless. Their heads bow, and their feet stay firmly in place, returning back to statues once again. Ness follows Kaiser out.

They have stopped in front of a small jewel shop that is run by an older man already growing in his gray hair. The stall has several jewels and gems, both alone and paired with necklaces, bracelets and earrings, out for display and naked in the warm air.

But the real collection lies inside the glass box just behind it. White plastic stairs line the inside, and jewels and gems sit along it pristinely, flaunting their vibrant colors under the beating sun. It ranges from all the colors of the rainbow, and in all the sizes one can think of, so much so Ness has a hard time scanning through them all.

The older man sits in a plastic chair behind the table. He looks about ready to doze off.

Prince Kaiser and Ness step up to the stall. He perks up, and nearly jumps out of his seat. The old cigarette lying in his mouth drops to the ground.

“M-My Prince, you’re here! Lord, you nearly gave me another collapsed lung, I was not expecting-”

“Yes, yes I am here,” Kaiser cuts him off. Ness is now standing fully beside him, and can see his face more clearly from the corner of his vision. Kaiser’s eyes are narrowed, and his lips are pressed in a thin line, like he was running out of patience. Or sending a warning with his expression alone.

The man laughs nervously.

“O-Of course! Apologies haha. Now.. what may I help you with?” Despite the man’s attempt to seem natural, it was painfully obvious the act he was putting up, through his stammer alone. That, and his nervous fidgeting, his fingers picking with the silky table cloth. Kaiser stays silent for a moment, and tense.

“I would like a jewel. A sapphire. I believe you have one of those, correct?”

The man nods, “Yes! Of course! They’re in the back, hold on, let me get them for you.” He disappears behind the blanket back wall of the stall.

Ness peers more boldly beside him, to catch a better look on Kaiser’s face. Yet it appears to now be completely indifferent. The tension and impatience from before has dissipated in a way that if Ness did not know better, he would have thought that previous look of sterness was all in his head. An illusion. Kaiser stares ahead, concentrated and focused.

“Here we are!”

Ness takes a breath, and turns back.

In the man’s hand holds a small, drawstring burlap bag. The other has a small metal device, and a tan paper scroll. He chuckles again nervously.

“Forgive me, Prince, this is just protocol, but I need to check your soul mark.”

Kaiser nods. “Of course.” He pulls back the vest around the right side of his neck to show the entirety of the blue roses, and the man scans the metal device over it. It makes a high-pitched ding sound. The engraved marble blinks the blue hue.

“And your courtier, of course.”

Ness goes stiff instinctively. He holds out his hand and lets the man scan over it with the metal device, trying to appear as neutral as possible. Yet, Ness finds himself holding his breath once again.

Until the device makes another ding and blinks.

The man puts the device away, and Ness’s held breath along with it.

“And…perfect! Now here you go! And the scroll too, of course.”

Instead of handing the items to Ness, Prince Kaiser grabs them with his own hands with a sort of haste, and holds onto them tightly. Ness blinks.

“And for you!” the man exclaims too loudly. “A discount is the least I could do! 50% off the original price you see right there! Pretty nice, huh?”

Kaiser does not seem bothered enough to answer, and tosses the coins into his hands.

The man smiles brightly. He looks like he could kiss the coins right then and there, but composes himself just enough to place it off to the side, into a box partly hidden by the encasing.

“I am so honored, thank you! Come again whenever you like, the discount will always be here! Oh! A-And if you need another gem for the soul ceremony, I am always happy to help! Ah wait, farewell!” He waves them away with one hand in the air shaking around enthusiastically. Ness catches a glance before he has to turn back, to where Kaiser had already begun to drift away.

The two walk back to the guards. They gather back into their positions, and start to walk back through the centered walkway. Ness stares at the back of Kaiser’s head, and the rose creeping close to his chin.

The man asked for no details on the jewel, Ness thought.

Somehow, he knew exactly what Prince Kaiser wanted.

Despite the fact that Kaiser has never visited that shop before.

And that interaction was far too brief to be a first time purchase.

Combined with the man’s stammers, his fidgeting, Kaiser’s expression…

Ness keeps his arms folded tightly behind his back, noting everything. Memorizing it the best he can, until he can close his eyes and picture it all before him. The scene plays in the darkness of his eyelids.

He opens them back up and looks down at Kaiser’s arms that hang in front of him.

Each hand holds the drawstring bag and paper scroll. The bag is held half-heartedly; the scroll is gripped tightly.

Ness rubs his fingers, his knuckles, tendons, and the unfelt mark.

He sighs.

Yet again, another observation to report.

The guards immediately part ways as they arrive in front of the gate. Large stone walls line the entirety of the castle’s exterior, reinforced and built in with multiple layers and towers overseeing the ground from 50 feet up. The pointed tips tap and ripple the ocean sky. For a castle placed relevantly near the towns, its silence hangs strangely in the air, where the methodic patterns of boots stamping the ground hum as a background noise.

The chatter and gossip of the townspeople that made those blocks of shops and houses seem so lively becomes all but an echo standing here at the gate. Bouncing around the barren grass with no source to speak of.

Two large guards stand by the checkered metal gate. Their heads and bodies are hidden by the heavy plates of metal plastered to their limbs, and their statures are nearly double that of the guards that led them to town. Their eyes and expressions are not even visible.

“Soul mark, sir.”

The metal devices they hold are similar to what both the town guards and the shopkeeper had, only these are much larger in size, and they had to turn it over and scan two times to make the ding and blink. Once finished, Ness takes his sleeve and pulls it back up over his hand.

One of the two guards places their hand on the gate, and it smoothly begins to draw open. Around the edges of the metal bars, a light red hue, barely visible, outlines the edges until the gate is completely open. The guards bow simultaneously and Kaiser passes by without a word. Ness follows closely behind.

Behind the wall, in front of the castle, garden keepers, with hats and aprons to protect themselves from noon’s sun, are scattered all about the courtyard to tend the flowers.

Roses specifically, from Prince Kaiser’s request, though the batch is small as a result of the Inner Circle’s demands.

At the very edges of the corners of the castle, there are peeks of young men walking in rigid lines, far too young to be guards, apprentices instead. Their seniors, high-level guards, walk along the very top of the walls overseeing them, some bare-handed, others with swords and crossbows. Their status is well-known by the pop of red on their uniform. Another request from the Inner Circle.

Then Ness looks forward, and up.

Despite such a structure having become familiar amongst all these years, the actual castle’s size is still overwhelming, overshadowing everything present on the ground. Or anything from the towns.

Yet again the dull gray of stone, hundreds of rectangle pillars mark every corner and pattern across the walls, and tiny arcs are drawn in each exposed space. Diamond shaped tops, towers that round out its roof into a pop of muted blue, yet another tower continues to be placed at its very center roof. But the most extravagant detail, and by far the most beautiful, are the stained glass windows scattered about.

Warm colors shine through with a muted coolness shrouded around them, like a sun peeking behind shadowed rain clouds. They are paintings of descriptors of ancient history that tell the story of the land.

The castle had been around for so long that it is said that it even predates soul marks. The orange and yellow and red stained glass windows have been built recently by comparison, dating only a few generations.

The last one had been built when the King and Queen were alive.

Ness looks back at Prince Kaiser.

Kaiser’s head is kept up. His feet, making wide steps across the ground. His arms, wrapped behind him.

Even the way he strides seems regal, and flawless, carven into perfection. He does not spare a glance at the intricacies towering above him.

The castle’s entrance opens before them. The red carpet leads from the outside walkway into the larger than life hall of the castle, a dancing ball room that serves as more of a welcoming area than anything nowadays. The stained-glass windows encircle the open place and other than a single person standing in the center, its welcome is empty.

She was a woman, with a soft, melted smile and dark, curved eyes. They hide behind the spirals of hair that whips across her face, and come in to tie behind her ear, two circles planted squarely on either side of her head. The rest is tied back in a low updo, braided intrinsically and meticulously.

Her body, cloaked with a silver dress, gloves, stockings, belt, hidden in every way, bows forward slightly. Her hair strands become perpendicular to the ground.

“You are late, Prince Kaiser,” she says. Despite the fact that the burlag bag and scroll Kaiser is holding are clearly visible, she pays no mind to it all. Kaiser must have noticed this as well.

He turns slightly away.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“It has been twice.”

“Yes. Yes, it has. What is your point, Lady Ilse?”

There is a sharp tension in Kaiser’s voice, one that holds an air of command and yet annoyance. Though, the latter takes skill to notice, and Ness had every reason to believe she possessed it. Lady Ilse’s head is kept bowed forward.

“Forgive me if I am wrong, but I believe the rule is now that you are not to go into town, my Prince. Surely, you have not forgotten?” Her smile melts on her face, but drips with amusement. Melting in her dark dark eyes, dull and engulfing. Kaiser continues on as if he has not noticed.

“No. The guards were with me. Surely they are enough for you? Or should I bring six next time? You seem so indecisive these days, dear Ilse.”

Her amusement comes to an abrupt stop.

Ness shoots his eyes to the floor.

Silence hangs in the air for a weighty, compressed moment in time. Even with his gaze on the ground, he can feel their stares at each other through the thick air. So thick, Ness feels the need to hold in his breath.

Continuing for seconds.

Still seconds and minutes.

Where the sound of the stained-glass light could be heard,

Bouncing off their faces.

“That is not the issue.”

“Then explain please. Perhaps there is something I am not understanding.” Kaiser said, with a clear question in his voice.

She narrows her eyes, as if she herself is questioning that very tone, but then gives a soft smile. “Of course not. You already understand everything perfectly.” Rather than elaborating, the woman steps forward, and faces Prince Kaiser directly just a few feet away. Her smile and eyes tell completely different stories. First, the narrow dark eyes, fixed on Kaiser.

And Ness.

“From now on, you will be timed. One of the guards will be in charge of that. You must be accompanied by 4 at all times, and they are to report to me if otherwise. Just a few short months away, my Prince. Precautions are necessary.. After all…it would be a shame if anything were to happen before your beloved soul ceremony, would it not?”

Then her smile, dripping across her face, stinging the ground.

Kaiser stays silent.

He gives a nod, and excuses himself away.

He goes into the right door facing the entrance, and Ness follows, prying his eyes away from the woman still watching them over to the Prince, and down to the scroll he is gripping ever fiercer. His robotic steps go on until he opens the door and they stand in the isolated narrow hallway, now fully disappeared from the woman’s gaze.

Kaiser stops.

“You are free to leave.”

Ness stiffens. Kaiser is speaking to him, he realizes. Even though all Ness can see is the back of his head.

Still, he bows in response.

“Forgive me, but I am afraid I can not. I am required to stay nearby for the time being.”

“And by whose orders?”

“The Inner Circle’s, my Prince.”

Prince Kaiser does not respond. From his right, light sprinkling in from the transparent glass windows of the hall frames his side, and makes his blue rose mark glimmer. He clears his throat.

“Very well.”

He does not speak to him again.

When they exited, Kaiser’s duties took initiative.

For the rest of the daylight hours, they enter from room to room, hall to hall, where Kaiser attends everything from meetings from kingdoms overseas to the planning and checking off of the events scheduled for the week. Ness watches and listens, but never speaks.

His position is to be on the right side of Prince Kaiser, and a few feet behind him. If Kaiser were to do anything suspect though, he is permitted to move a step to the right or one forward to peer over. But otherwise he is to be still, and silent.

Silence is the key.

Ness makes sure to note everything though, as he always did. Especially today in particular.

After all, Kaiser was much quieter during the representatives’ meeting.

His signatures on the documents were messier.

He hestitated before entering the guard room.

He passed by a room before retreating to go in.

He was zoned out, never quite paying attention.

He did not once look up at the family portrait on the 5th hall.

By the time they arrive at the office, where Prince Kaiser’s paperwork begins and Ness’s service ends, he has gotten all the information he needs and comes to a conclusion.

Something is clearly distracting the Prince.

It must have been this morning. The peculiar morning where everything began odd and different. An event that is keeping his mind busy.

Perhaps it is the conversation with Lady Ilse, and her underlying threat. But those types of interactions between the Inner Council members and the Prince are nothing new. One would have to be utterly oblivious to not see the tension that has long existed between them. Perhaps it is the trip to the shop. The items, the jewel and scroll.

It can be, but what proof does he have that shows that was the case?

All he knows is that Kaiser has something on his mind. The question is only what.

Ness looks out at the windows painted across the large hallway walls.

They tower tall and high before him, looming in a way that is not threatening. The whites of the frames and the blues of the curtains are saturated in a light warm orange, mixed in with reds and purples at its very edges. It spills into the hall, until the air becomes nothing but drenched in the rays of the setting sun. So much so Ness feels like he could breathe in the warmth of those colors and take them in as his own. As if he is feeling its life while drowning with every step.

Judging from those colors, they are just a short time away before dark.

Ness peels his eyes away and focuses back on the growing hall before him. One that stretches on and on and on until eventually fading away into obscurity. A small insignificant darkness looms at the very end. Dull and dead.

It is sunset, yet there is still so much left in the day.

He feels the familiar two-doored entrance before he sees it.

Down on the 8th corridor, in the most silent part of the castle. The most lifeless. Only offices and important meeting boards litter the hall, where the few faces Ness saw are that of the highest of royal officials. The townspeople who occasionally visit know well not to come here. Even the prince himself rarely frequents this place.

Feeling the back of his hand with his thumb, Ness stops in front of the entrance.

This is the only room in the hall with two doors leading in and an engraved wooden sign on the wall, smooth and placed high above the entrance. The words are large and easy to read.

Inner Circle Board

He takes a deep breath.

And carefully draws a door open.

“Ah, you could make it after all.”

Spacious and high-ceilinged, the Inner Circle board room is filled in gray and brown, wood and metals, silver and stones, and perhaps some other precious jewels scattered about. Peaks of pearly whites dot the walls, but for the most part the dull hue has engulfed the roundtable meeting, a reality hidden by the blinding light coming from the windows. Blinding white light.

Tables and cabinets and drawers line the edges of the walls, and for the first few feet beyond the entrance, the floor stays largely empty. At least before the steps to the upper ledge.

Ness walks forward, making sure to stare straight ahead, and goes up onto the steps. He deepens his stance into a bow at the top.

In front of him, a large round table takes up the room. 8 seats wrap around 2/3rds of the table, and out of those 8, 6 members are present. Various papers sit in front of each and in the center of the rich brown surface, there lies a small dial, slowly ticking and ticking forward.

Ness mindlessly counts them as he stares at the floor.

“At your service.” He stands straight back up.

Judging by the papers sitting in front of the members, they were having a meeting before this, and moved time specifically for his designated slot. Not an uncommon act, but a nerve-inducing one nonetheless. He feels a pair of eyes staring at him from the right, and breathes in a little deeper.

“On point as usual, very well,” the center-head chair says. He is an older man, with growing in white hair at his roots and a large, rough face. His words carry a low rumble, but float with a sort of airiness behind them, like they are soft gray clouds drawn across the sky. That is, until he turns to the right, right to that pair of eyes, and those clouds wisps away.

“Now, Lady Ilse?”

Ness turns slightly to look at her, and sure enough, she has a soft, smooth smile on her face. Dark eyes to peer with right across.

Ness feels their heaviness upon him. The morning flashes in his mind.

“Thank you, Sir Adal. Now, I am sure you are all aware of this morning, but the Prince went into town without a word despite our insistence on otherwise. In fact, it seems he did so in utter disobedience. A rebellion, if you will.”

She stops to the endless nodding all around.

“Granted, this is nothing unusual for a boy his age, to go against those who have done so much for him…”

Her eyes that have been scanning across the room land on Ness with those words.

Ness stares at her back.

“But, of course that does not change that such a thing holds trouble for us. So Ness,”

Her smile responds.

“The report, please.”

And his feet stay firmly planted.

His head nods.

“Of course.”

And the words begin to spill.

“Prince Kaiser went into the Teno marketplace this morning, shortly before high noon. 4 of the lowest ranked guards accompanied him and came equipped with the newest soul mark devices. Many gifts were given from the townspeople. They are all at the 4th meeting hall for closer inspection if needed. The destination was a jewel shop on the 4th row, 7th stall, and once we arrived, he did not allow the guards to come closer.

“A peculiar interaction was exchanged with the shopkeeper, a middle-aged man with a green snake soul mark on his wrist. Little was said, and the shopkeeper was nervous. The Prince simply said he wanted a sapphire and the man gave him a small bag. It is unclear if it holds the jewel. He also received the jewel’s scroll, to which the Prince is currently holding onto very tightly. He held these items himself after receiving them.

“After the conversation with Lady Ilse, he told me I am free to leave, which would have left him alone. However, after being informed of your orders, he did not debate on the topic. For the rest of the day, the Prince has been careless, sloppy, and distracted in his duties. This continued until he went into his room and office for the night. That is all.”

He breathes out a bit.

All 6 members are staring at him, or rather, listening and focusing on what they just heard. Their eyes are fixed into place. Pressing against his shoulders, silence weighs the air, its tenseness quickly taking the place of oxygen. The room becomes filled with it until the stares become suffocating, and Ness has to dart his gaze to the floor.

He tightens his grip on his hand. Takes in another breath.

Counting the seconds as they pass.

And feels the skin beneath his fingers.

“Thank you, Ness.”

Ness looks up.

“Amazing job as always.”

Lady Ilse gives him a smile, gentle and curved.

The stickiness of the air evaporates. Ness nods with a blank face, but in his mind, he is responding with a smile of his own.

The head chair nods, and leans back against his chair. “I see. Well, we will have to keep a close eye on him then. Lady Ilse, what did you say to the boy?”

“Not much at all, Sir. Simply more restrictions on his leaving and coming, to limit his options. Whatever he may be doing or scheming, it all but renders useless if he is unable to be alone to do them.”

Next to Lady Ilse, a short woman with chin-length hair and a plump face nods enthusiastically.

“Of course, of course! But Lady Ilse, I am afraid that perhaps this will make the Prince more likely to do more actions behind our backs. Is it not a saying that one is more likely to do something if it is against the rules?” Her delicate eyes scrunches with worry.

“Maybe if we were talking about any other teenage boy,” said another man from across the table. To the left of the center, skinny and tall and can not be more than 30. Dark hair frames around his deep angular eyes, where further eyeshadow has been placed beneath to enhance their effect. His chapped lips presses thinly. “But this is the Prince. His level of perception far exceeds that of any other his age. I doubt he would do something so idiotic. Especially if he is aware of what we are aware of him.”

Sir Adal nods from beside him. “Siene is right. But Lady Helena has valid concerns.

“The Prince is aware of us just as much as we are of him, that much is no question. If he knows our objectives, I see a possibility where he could break completely from our control, and become a loose threat under the guise that he has nothing to lose. In a way, this would benefit our case. To run rampage and eventually…”

He takes in a breath, closing his eyes for just a second as if to see something beneath the darkness of his eyelids, and lets it out again.

“But I doubt we would be that lucky. For the Prince to do such a thing would be unimaginable.”

The table falls silent.

And the last word lingers in the air.

Feeling a heaviness descend on them once again, Ness looks around at all their faces, and the dullness that has engulfed their expressions. It is such a far-cry from the usual that Ness becomes tense. What is this shared thought? And how is it that he has no part?

What does Sir Adal mean by what he said? Is the “thing” he is referring to not the possibility to break away like he said? Or is he referring to something else?

What are they hiding from him?

“Then let us just continue to keep an eye on him.”

Ness looks over. Right side of the center chair, next to where Sir Adal was sitting grimly, a woman settles her arms on the table. Her long red hair sways slightly, and her tall stature towers over them all. Eyes which are rimmed with glistening red eyeshadow yet drooping tiredly glide across the still, quiet room.

And land beside her.

“Sir Adal, the climate is changing,” she says. Her voice naturally holds a sing-songy undertone, but when dropped, it feels more like a funeral song complete with bells and all, like a cloud rumbling across the atmosphere.

A mirror reflection that makes Sir Adal stop to look back at her as she continues.

“Within this past week, two monster attacks have occurred. On opposite sides of the kingdom. We have discussed this but consider for a moment what this might mean.

“Even if no one died in the attacks, the fear still lingers. The townspeople are scared. The Prince’s people are scared. What they need the most to feel safe is not the strongest defenses nor the absence of monsters. It is a figure to look up to. To admire and worship. Do you not think that the son of the most beloved King in this kingdom’s history would know that? Do you not think that he would be well aware of this fact and act with it in mind? That he would stop at nothing to achieve it, and cherish the last thing left to him by the King?”

“My point is,” she says, ”no matter how you look at it, that boy is the King’s son. He cares deeply for his people. And he would not do anything to harm them. Sir Adal, he will not commit such a thing. That much I am certain of. But it is a weakness we can exploit.

“The preparations are mostly finished. For now, all we can do is to continue to keep an eye on him. It may just be the best chance we have.”

The woman settles back against her chair, and the Inner Circle glances around each other. Sir Adal coughs.

“Thank you, Lady Leonie, for your contribution.” Lady Leonie scoffs.

Lady Helena puts her hand against her face. Her usual droopy eyes, sad instead of tired like Lady Leonie, becomes watery.

“Oh, I have heard of the monster attacks...”

“Acres upon acres of destroyed houses,” Sir Adal says, closing his eyes. “It would take a lot of time and many men to reconstruct them all. And the aid from the other kingdoms can only go so far.”

Sir Siene nods, and ticks his tongue. “Well, this could have all been prevented if those careless townspeople and stationed guards had taken our precautions seriously, and properly checked every soul mark. But apparently that takes too much work for their feeble minds to handle. All that spent on new items and spells for the new devices only for it to land on a bunch of ignorant gossipy fools-”

“Siene.”

Sir Siene stops. His eyes widen. He glances over to Sir Adal, who has a warned expression on his face.

His eyes are fixed facing right beside him. Right at Lady Helena.

Her eyes are watery and shaky.

“The destruction they have caused, tricks and games meant to do nothing but hurt….Those wretched beings… horrible horrible creatures, all of them!”

Her trembling outburst is soothed by Lady Leonie slowly rubbing her back. Lady Helena wipes her eyes.

“Thank goodness we have captured them this time. To think we live in the same world as those…disgusting monsters! Wretched… wretched creatures…”

The rest of the table stays quiet with their heads down. All that is heard through the silence is Lady Helena’s sobs. Her teary pained words slipping out. Vibrating across the spacious, high-ceilinged room, coming out as if they are tearing straight from her soul and laying out for display for them all to see. A rawness not meant to be seen and a grief still yet to be processed.

Ness is trembling too.

His hands, clenching one another.

Clawing through their backs.

Shaking violently with the urge to tear the skin right off.

As if that would fix everything.

But other than that, he stays as still as possible. As calm as he can while Lady Helena sobs and sobs. He even switches hands to clutch, in hopes of making the feeling go away.

Eventually chairs scrap the floor, and when Ness looks up, there are empty spots where Lady Helena and Lady Leonie would be. Just 4 chairs left makes the table feel empty and void.

The dial blinks and dings.

“Ah,” Sir Adal says, “Time is up.” He reaches forward to click the dial back into place, and stop the ringing.

“Ness.”

Ness straightens up. “Yes, Sir?”

“Tomorrow there will be a change of plans. As a result of the recent monster attacks. We will hold assemblies in the townsquares of Hosek and Konto. A showcase for the townspeople to raise their spirits. Inform the Prince of these activities, and that he is to meet with the officers in the morning for further instruction. That is all.”

Ness bows forward. “Yes, sir.”

As he exits the room, the glimpses he got of the looks of the Inner Circle bore trenches into his mind. The stoic stares from Sir Adal, Lady Ilse, Sir Harian, settling upon the sounds of weeping Lady Helena, and Lady Leonie surely comforting her.

But what stands out the most is the look of a member who has not spoken the entire meeting. Who lies largely in silence.

Sir Hadrian. Brother of Lady Helena, sitting in the 3rd overall chair, next to Sir Siene. In the brief glimpse he got, Ness did not see his usual stern and mean expression, but a sorrowful one, complete with watery eyes. Eyes that are small, but droop naturally at the edge with a curve. It is one of the few similiarties he shares with Lady Helena.

It looks like the mention of monsters touched his soul too, and made it tear open.

Ness closes the door.

Monsters do not have to be physically present to hurt people. Simply its existence sends ripples throughout them all, denying them the illusion of safety and lingering as a constant threat over their heads. Its presence, defined by the destruction it causes.

Creatures with no emotion, no mercy, no love, no humanity, distinctly marked by its very lack of a soul mark. And it can be living among them as they speak. Just the idea that something like that could exist is enough to send terror into anyone, and make them fall apart.

But for Ness, it only makes his hand sear even more.

He arrives at the Prince’s bedroom door before he knows it.

Two guards stand in front. With no armor on, they only bear the uniform of the lounging castle staff, mismatched with their resting angry expression. Tiny squinted eyes, eyebrows pointed inwards, small faces and mouths on top of large arms and chests. Their bodies appear almost naked without the glints of silver and metal all over.

After one scans his hand and gives the go ahead, Ness steps up to the door, and slowly pushes it. It is heavy, yet free-flowing, and draws carefully open.

Warm air rushes to his skin.

The royal bedroom is large, and spacious. Many things cover the walls and floor, and yet somehow, it feels empty at the same time.

The Prince is sitting inside, at the very far desk. His back is to the door and arched slightly forward.

Both of his arms rests on the desk and his hair is tied up, allowing the blue roses soul mark on his neck to put itself on display. Glimmering and shining like night has just fallen. Right in the darkness of the room, where only dim lanterns and candles scatter about. A stylistic ancient look drenched in the darkest colors. No wonder the sparkling blue pops out like the brightest star.

Like the first of the night.

The Prince stops, and turns his head slightly up.

Ness jumps.

Ah, right.

“My Prince.”

Prince Kaiser turns around. Light from the desk’s lamp rims around his silhouette, reflecting off the planes of his face and making highlights in his narrowed eyes. He stares at Ness with pressed lips. As if Ness’s sudden presence has given him yet another thing to think about.

Ness lets out his held breath, and bows forward quickly. When he looks back up, he notices the desk is completely empty where Kaiser was previously looking at. As if nothing was ever there.

Ness pretends he does not notice.

“I have a message from the Inner Circle. There has been a change of plans for tomorrow. They will be holding assemblies in the townsquares of Hosek and Konto, in light of the recent monster attacks, and your presence is required. You are to visit the officers in the morning for further instruction.”

The Prince does not say anything, staring once again silently at Ness for far longer than he is comfortable with. Then he slowly gives a nod.

Ness lets out another silent breath. The tension in his hands and chest fades. The task is done.

His eyes peel away from the Prince’s ever stoic face, and scans around the room. Despite being so dark, he can spot every sense of light that matches the Prince’s, in both his eyes and soul mark. The marks of blue that feel scattered all over, and the touches that make it feel his.

That is no surprise, of course, as this room is only an extension of the castle. His castle. This is what the Prince gives with his presence. A feeling that fills any empty void with its beating heart of life.

It is no wonder Ness rarely comes here. This is a world too far away from his.

He turns to leave.

“Ness.”

Only to stop in his tracks.

He twists around to see Prince Kaiser turning back away from the desk and looking squarely at him, his chair fully turned in his direction. That expression that was filled with contemplation and uncertainty and questioning, that all but seemed unnatural on his face, has been exchanged for a new one. For an emotion Ness can not quite put a finger on.

Kaiser’s eyes stagger on Ness, but eventually they rip away to look towards one of the few windows in the room, facing the night sky. The stars, the absent moon, the clouds hiding them all. And for a brief moment, Ness thinks he hears the Prince take in a silent breath of his own.

“Are you aware of the old 5th star tale?”

Ness blinks.

“...what?”

Prince Kaiser has a small smile on his face, but for some reason, it looks different from the one he gave to the townspeople this morning. Where that smile sits on his face with polite dignity, this one reaches up and pinches the corners of his eyes, not afraid to contort into a state where the lamp’s warm light blatantly shows the new small folded wrinkles. Ness can hardly believe his eyes.

“My father said it to me once,” he says. “That from the 5th star to ever appear in the sky, there emerged the ancient people of our ancestors, setting foot on this new land. It was barren and hollow, empty for all where the eye could see. They tried to give it life, again and again, but eventually gave up. Afterwards, every single one of them left, all except for one young man. Because while everyone said it was hopeless, while he was called insane, crazy, and a fool, he still believed the land had hope and promise. He was left alone for decades.”

His hand that had been resting on the desk comes up to close in around his neck, resting on it slightly. His palm settles on the blue roses.

“When they came back, they couldn’t believe their eyes. He’d succeeded, and the land had been reborn.”

Prince Kaiser turns his head back around, to face Ness again, only this time it is with that wrinkly, squinty eyed smile that somehow grew larger. “It is an old fable. From a time when gods and deities still existed. Naturally, it is false, and now we see it as nothing more but a child’s tale. But you’ve heard of it before, right?”

While he has still never seen this look on the Prince, something about it did not feel as unnatural as the prior. In fact, for one reason or another, this one felt safer, and more comfortable. Fitted on him perfectly, like a suit tailored just for his size. Different, but not unrecognizable.

Ness looks down to the ground in response.

“Yes, I believe I have.”

“I still think about it from time to time… I just wanted to know if I was the only one who still cares about that old tale.” Kaiser laughs. A light laugh, slightly rough but in a polished way. Sweet and airy. Captivating, even.

Ness does not know what he expected, but it certainly was not that. To hear and see Kaiser act in this way. To witness these polished cracks in perfected marble. It feels he is intruding, like he is overhearing something he should not hear, like he is being mistaken for someone he is not. From his knowledge, no one else has seen this side of this Prince. What has he done to be any different?

A part of him wants to ask, but he can not bring himself to look up to meet his eyes. No matter how comforting this new expression that the Prince has gained is, something about it makes Ness unable to look at it for too long.

Luckily, Prince Kaiser has moved his attention away to look back at the window. He seems like he is entranced with it. No, Ness realizes, it is not the window he is entranced with. It is the stars in the night sky.

Perhaps he truly is captivated by that tale. And has decided to share it with him.

“But in any case, that children’s tale does not matter much now. After all, it isn’t too far off now,” Kaiser says, wistfully. “Just a few short months away.”

The soul ceremony. From the way he says it, the words sound more like an echo than anything.

He turns back around and settles his arms on his knees; his stare presses deep. Ness can see it from the edges of his vision.

“Are you excited?”

Ness hesitates before nodding. “Everyone is, my Prince. It has been years since they have had a proper king.” He regretted those words immediately as soon as he said them. His eyes flick up to see the Prince’s reaction, but to his surprise, not a thing about his appearance changed.

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Prince Kaiser says. “It always has been for the people. But I am not asking about them. Surely, as my righthand man, you are excited as well, are you not? I don’t think I’ve ever seen even a sliver of a smile cross your face.”

The idea that Prince Kaiser would be thinking of something like that made Ness’s mind come to a halt and his heart jump to his throat. He attempts to stammer a response.

“I-I have no time for any of the sort. Your wellbeing is of my highest priority, my Prince. I am of no importance. I exist solely for your sake.” The lies make his tongue grow bitter. But in many ways, they are not entirely untrue. It is just not the Prince that they all apply to.

Kaiser stares at him for a long time.

“Well, that’s a shame then. Because I think you’re quite interesting.”

He puts a hand to his cheek, and leans against it with a smile. A boldly cocky, flirty smile.

His blue rose mark glimmers against the lamplight.

Ness has not noticed when the tension in his hands faded away during their conversation, but it immediately flares up again. Not in an achy throbbing way, but in a way that sends chills down his spine. And his heart rate pick up tenfold.

Kaiser continues talking. “Soulmate or not, everyone here is awfully lonely. Nothing I can do can change that. But even so, we all hold our own value, whether we see it or not. Whether we are using it well or not.” He holds on especially to that last sentence, and Ness clutches his hand even harder.

“Perhaps that is the only thing we have control over. As for me…”

The Prince glances out the window.

“No matter what, in a few months, I will be the king of this kingdom. I’ll make sure of it.”

He looks back, and with his smile now fallen, his face settles back into a daring stare. Locking his eyes with Ness, he searches for the truth with his words.

“So I will repeat myself, Ness. Will you be there when I do?”

This is a test. Treading the fields on Ness’s loyalty and searching for the cracks and lies. The secrets that keep his lips sealed and that weigh his steps down. The possibility that Kaiser knows Ness’s true motives strucks him, but he quickly shakes it off.

Ness has done nothing to make himself suspicious. He has made sure of it. Prince Kaiser is not aware of his meetings with the Inner Circle, nor of his connection to them. For all he knows, Ness has hardly even spoken with any of the members.

Perhaps he is simply suspicious of everyone. Yes, that must be it. Kaiser knows the Inner Circle’s motives, so he must be testing as many as he can to search for more traitors.

Nonetheless, Ness knows his answer.

He is loyal to the Inner Circle. And if they succeed, Prince Kaiser will never become King.

That is a reality he has always been working for. A future he is giving his life for. No, that future is the entire reason his life exists.

All he has to do is lie to Kaiser’s question, not even to say a single word. Just a nod would be enough.

So then why is he hesitating to do so? Why does Prince Kaiser’s flirty smile keep replaying in his mind over and over, and why has that heartrate pulsing in his ears and throat not settled down? It is such a simple look, that stare and those eyes, but for one reason or another, it has stripped him bare completely.

But as he replays that smile over and over, the truth settles on him in a bitter taste, leeching away any warm feeling he might have had.

That smile was not for him. And he would be foolish to think Prince Kaiser would ever be interested in him that way. Not with his soulmate ceremony so close on the horizon. It is clear Kaiser acted the way he did because of that question alone, and to make him vulnerable enough to expose any disloyalty; that was his entire intention.

But the thought that it could have been genuine is so nice and warm that it does not want to leave. He does not either. He wants to indulge himself in it, to drown in that delusion.

So when Ness finally brings himself to meet those eyes that are staring deep into his own, against all rationality and sense, he pretends he can see that boldly cocky, flirty smile all over again, and a smile finds its way to his lips.

“Of course, my Prince.”

And for a second, he almost believes it.

Prince Kaiser stays silent; his stare on Ness does not move at all, still searching and searching and searching.

Then his expression softened. “I hope out of anyone, it will be you. It is getting late now, you should start heading off.”

Despite all the questions running through his mind with that response, one that simultaneously puts him on edge and makes his heart flip one more time, Ness obeys. But as he grabs the door’s handle, he finds himself glancing back over to where Prince Kaiser is turned back around towards the desk.

“By the way,” Kaiser says without turning around. “You should smile more. It suits you.”

Ness’s hand stops. Just for a second.

Then without a word, he exits the room.

When he enters the hallway, the guards hardly give him a glance. In the night sky, it seems that the clouds have finally parted away. Faint moonlight spills into the floor from the wall-sized windows, a coolness that contrasts the warmness of tiny lights scattered about.

Compared to the Prince’s bedroom, the hall is cold. He keeps his hands in the small pockets of his pants as he walks down, as much of them as he can fit. But the cold still bit at him anyway.

This is nonsense. All of it. Prince Kaiser has no interest in him, not in the slightest. Besides, it would not even matter in the slightest. Prince Kaiser has a soul mark; he has a soulmate. He is by the far the most important person to have a soulmate.

And Ness…

Ness does not.

His hand begins to ache, and he snatches it to clutch it closely to his chest.

It is said that one’s soul is located in their heart, and that is why people with soul marks on their necks or stomach are the strongest in terms of power. Soul in tandem with soul marks equates to power. Ness wonders how that would apply to someone like him. Someone who had theirs taken away.

None of it is fair, not in the slightest. And he hates himself for it every second of the day. Logically, he knows who he should blame: the monsters that took his soul mark away from him. For the longest time, he could not help looking down at his hands and seeing the bareness of either side, the utter lack of any mark, and seeing more of the monster that took it away than the human that he supposedly is.

And now, the fake soul mark on his hand feels like it has the words, “traitor” written all over it.

If Prince Kaiser knew, he would not have acted the way he did, even if it was a means to an end. Ness has known that since the beginning.

And yet, he can not shake off the racing heart rate in his chest. The feeling of the radiance he was able to witness from the Prince that has always been so heavily talked about and gossiped. Some of it can still be felt, spread across the deepest part of his core that he did not even know existed. It still stays, ingrained into his chest. The townspeople’s words sink into his mind.

“To be captivated by him happens all too often. And it takes only an instant to be utterly entranced, and unsalvageable.”

So this–this is what it means to be captivated by Prince Kaiser.

As Ness’s steps echo across the ever-growing hall, he takes in a deep, shaky breath.

None of this matters. Not with the soul ceremony so close on the horizon. If they succeed, then Prince Kaiser will no longer be an issue, and all of this will be meaningless. Only a few short months left.

Until then, Ness’s loyalty is to the Inner Circle. Tomorrow he will report the conversation, and prove his usefulness once again.

They have already done so much for him; he can not betray them.

Not when they trust him so deeply.

The thought brings an easiness to his tense hands and a comforting warmness in his chest.

“You should smile more. It suits you.”

The moonlight shines behind him as Ness brings a smile to his face.

#my writing #bllk #blue lock #blue lock manga #bllk manga #crossposted #fic #>10000 words #michael kaiser #alexis ness #kaiser x ness #kainess #pale spirit

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dxmoness · 10 months

Text

─────── EFFECTS. . .

‣ the thorned mistress . 004

The five year-old pried open the lock of her room as she reached for it, twisting the knob clumsily. It gave way and the door slid open, no noise because it had just been oiled up.

Her purple eyes scan the area while her ears remain alert. She needed to be discreet. She wandered the castle in search of sweets to consume.

Suddenly a hushed and muffled conversation catches her attention. She froze at the voices. They were far but she didn't appreciate the sound of any voices, especially not now.

She quietly pads to the door and listens closely. The vast size of the portal in front of her was undeniably big as compared to her own size. She remains quiet as she listens in on whoever is talking on the other side.

"You've finished the…thing you were told to finish, correct?" An unfamiliar voice comes to contact with her ever sensitive ears. Her purple eyes remain on the lookout for any shadows that could be lurking in the dim hallways.

"Yes, the spell has been casted. It will only take a matter of time before it takes effect." This voice! It was familiar and she knew exactly who it belonged to.

Alexios. Alexios is her knight, the bodyguard assigned to her by her father. Someone who she trusted with her soul. It was not a surprise she knows his voice all too well.

Now she was contemplating if she'd dare enter the place. Alexios is there, but her mother always cautioned her when she heard an unfamiliar voice in the halls.

Should she dare enter despite the fact? No, she didn't. She would rather just listen and listen she did.

The voices were hushed now, it seemed she missed a bit of the conversation. She pressed her ear against the door now, her cheek feeling the cold hard wood that made up the door.

"It won't take long before the throne will be ours now. Those two are foolish enough to assume that their actions remain with no effects on their life anymore." The unfamiliar voice continues to rant about something she couldn't quite grasp on.

Was there a dangerous criminal on the loose? Or perhaps a demon running around and causing misery? She was dying to know as she continued on to listen.

"And you said they are trying to have another child?" The unfamiliar voice continues on to ask.

"Yes, it's true." Alexios is quick to answer this question.

"How disappointing." She could hear the unfamiliar man mutter. There is a movement as the faint glow of the candlelight comes close to the door, seeping from a small space underneath the door.

This is when her heart picks up a pace. She is in panic. Were they coming out? She had to hide!

The door swings open and the two men come out. The first one was a man with golden eyes and long silky black hair. He had a very serious and cold expression on his face not to mention the intimidating aura he emitted. The second was the red haired knight Alexios, he stood and looked around silently while his black haired companion left quickly.

After a few minutes of seemingly staring at nothing, the knight left as well. Leaving a silence to reign in the hallways.

A creak of the cabinet tears this silent barrier. Out comes, the shaken Sorana who was too frightened to make any other word. She looks around again, ensuring the knight and the mysterious individual were gone before she rushed.

She heads to her parents' bedroom. She panickingly twisted the knob as she entered. Her mother was already under the covers, fast asleep. Her father was still awake, his blue eyes stare blankly at the open book on his lap. The yellow-orange glow of the candlelight illuminates his most charming features. At the sound of the door, he looks up to see Sorana entering and attempting to climb on the bed in which she's failing to do.

He should be mad but he only chuckles as he scooped her up. "What are you doing here, dear?" He whispered, making sure he was quiet. Yashira was asleep after all.

"Hungry…" She whispered back, understanding why her father wanted things to be kept quiet.

Roman nodded as he carried her and both went to the kitchen where he placed her down on the counter. He then cuts up an apple into bite size slices.

"Here." Now the two take their time munching on the apples. Bonding moments are rare between the father and daughter, but Sorana wouldn't trade him for anything in the world.

Now it was two weeks later, she had forgotten about the conversation she had overheard before.

She is by the lake, picking flowers. The maids were around her, they were whispering and gossiping as usual. It did not bother her, it is normal for her to hear them. They always do this, she already knew they were talking about her.

She is about to stand up when hands shove her forward, tumbling into the cold water of the lake. She kicks her feet frantically, her purple eyes could make out the sight.

The maids were laughing, giggling even. The one who had pushed her was none other than Alexios.

Betrayal. That's what she felt. She was starting to get tired. Her screams pierce the quiet atmosphere of the gardens, causing the brothers who had been playing run to the lake.

Immediately, everyone died down to a silent crowd. Alpha strides over quickly. His red eyes scan the lake for their sister.

Bravo was first to dive in, not bothering to take anything off his body. He swam and minutes later, came up to the surface with their sister.

It was now that Kaisu was scolding the servants around them. The sounds of Cable's hoarse shouting was enough for the servants to get the picture. They were getting fired.

Sorana woke up, still clutching the flowers in her hand. "Brother…" she whispered, Bravo kissed her forehead. "You're alright." It wasn't a question, it was a firm statement. She is alright.

"They're no longer pretty…" She said with a tone of sadness. She is talking about the flowers that she clenched tightly between her fingers. "I was going to give them to Mother…"

"It's alright. Let's go get better ones, okay?" Alpha assured her as he knelt down to hold out his hand. She is quick to get on her feet, taking his hand.

The two walk through the trees and make their way to a tunnel-like place.

"Alpha?" "Just follow me and be quiet." He whispered kindly. Both go through the tunnel and come out to a beautiful sight.

A vast cave filled with flowers was the sight set before her. It left her breathless. It's beautiful.

The beautiful gems illuminate the cave, keeping it from being a darkness engulfed wonderland.

She steps forward hesitantly, glancing at Alpha who nods. She rushed to pick some flowers and admire the place more. A smile appears on her lips.

Alpha smiles softly at the sight of her so happy. This is what he lived for.

He watched as she practically ran through the flowers. A chuckle comes from his mouth. He couldn't help it.

"Done!" She now had a couple of pink daisies. Alpha nods as he leads her back out. Once they make it out, the entrance to the cave simply vanishes into thin air.

Sorana's eyes widen, staring at her brother expecting him to explain it but he only shrugs. "Go give those to Mother."

She nodded and bounds away. Running as fast as her little legs could go. She ran to the castle where her mother resides in her room, waiting for her gift.

Her footfalls rang through the halls. The marble floor makes noise every time.

Now she has finally reached the door. Everyone had been giving her a glance. Worried or worse.

She twists open the door and enters the room, a horrifying display appears before her.

Her father stood in front of a dead body. His clothes were splattered with crimson liquid. The room reeked of the smell of blood and human liquids…

Her first move was to head for the dead body. It was now that she realized. The dead corpse was none other than her mother's. A horrified gasp escapes her as she stumbles back only to bump into her father's leg.

He turned to look at her, his once blue eyes were dilated and red in color. The hand that clutched his sword clenched as though he was going to swing it and end her life too.

She scrambled back, her hands nudging the body behind her. She was absolutely terrified right now. Traumatized. What was happening? Where were her parents? Her father lifts the sword over his head, readying to give the final blow towards her.

She braced herself for the impact of her father's blade, not shutting her eyes because she thought she'd rather see her father's face for the last time. But the sound of footfalls outside causes her father to stop.

It was now that her father seemed to snap out of his possessed state. The red eyes return to a color of one eye being blue and the other red as they fixate on her.

"Sora…na…" Her father's eyes widen when he sees the body behind her. The blue eye returns to a sickening and terrifying red color.

Suddenly the soft gaze turned hard and cold as he snarled. "What did you do?" His voice… he used that tone only to those who oppose him.

Did he think…?

"Father, I didn't-" "Leave." Roman demands. "But Father…" "I said leave wench." Tears form in her eyes as she runs past him.

She passed the forming crowd of servants who were all in on this plan. She knew they were.

She runs to her room and locks the door, slumping on the door and crying. Mother is gone and Father thinks she killed her. She cried until she fell asleep.

When she woke up, there was noise. The sounds of bells ring outside, she peers from the window seat in her room. She could see that everyone was coming out of their homes.

They were all mourning the loss of their empress. Yes, of course that was it. Sorana looks around, her eyes notice the daisies she had picked for her mother.

She itched to take it, but she only cried. The flowers she had picked for Mother. She will never be able to give it to them. She will never be able to see mother's beautiful smile and her laughter. The way she read the stories so wonderfully that she was engulfed into the fantasy world, a place where both her and her mother could be together without interruptions. There will be no more picnics under the sun where she, Damien, Kindred, Kaisu and Mother would pretend to be commoners for a day. She will never see Father's sweet smile towards her and her mother. How the two cradled her in their arms before she was tucked into sleep.

No, that was no longer a possibility. Now she was a wench. An unwanted princess who murdered her mother.

No one came for her. Not even during the funeral of her mother. They didn't give her a chance to see Mother one last time. No one even gave her food until she really begged for it or was too weak to beg anymore.

One week, two, three… It was beginning to show that no one cares anymore.

An elder comes to her one day, asking her questions. The maids whispering was the only way she could learn what was happening outside that door.

They talked about how her father didn't even want to look at her anymore. How he was absolutely disgusted that his own child would do a thing like this.

Her brothers? They were sent to school and none said anything to her. Probably angry and disgusted by her too.

The only one she could talk to was herself. Her conversations were growing tiresome. Everything was tiring…

Every day, she'd beg them to let her out or at least bring her food. Silence. Cold silence. This went on for a long time until she got used to it. Got used to being told nothing, to being fed nothing, to not being cared for at all.

She slept a lot to gain energy. She learned to deal with what she had. This meant that she was forced to also eat the moldy food if she had no choice. She read the books in her room that were placed there as display.

Three years passed, three birthdays that were not celebrated. Three long and tiresome years of her trying to be cautious with what she had, which was barely anything.

Every time it was her birthday, she'd bring out a photo book of her family and sing to herself while she stared at their faces.

It was all she had. All she could do. She missed them. Missed everything. But she can't have what she had.

Now it was her eighth birthday. She was softly singing to herself while she clutched her photo book. Choking out a sob as she continued whispering the song her mother had taught her.

She puts down the photo book and wipes her tears as she hears the sound of the lock opening.

Her father stood there. His blue eyes were now red. The same red as before. "Sorana. Pack your things."

"What…?" She asked. "Why?"

"You're going to the academy."

─────── NOTE?!

angst starts here ladies and gentlemen and non-binary people <3

word count . . . 2.27K

─────── INVITATIONS?!

@primordixl , @lxdymoon0357 , @achy-boo , @writerig , @yevene , @roseadleyn , @crownxie , @hykar1

#• . the thorned mistress · story #• . clan of the phoenix · misheru

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