#tragedy of the garden of many flowers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wholoveseggs · 2 months

Text

Crimson Frost {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

You are to be wed to Niklaus of the Mikaelson clan, but when tragedy strikes and blood is shed in the snowy night, the true strength of family bonds and the power of love are put to the ultimate test.

♡♡ I'm back with another series, one I've wanted to write for a long time. This series explores the lives of the Mikaelsons as ordinary individuals in the Viking era, told from the reader's perspective but also Niklaus's. ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... no smut in this part, {Spoiler: it will be eventually reader x Elijah}

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}

"Gerda! Come help me with these flowers," you yelled from the back garden. You were gathering the best wildflowers you could find to make a wreath to wear for the feast that evening. It was still winter, but it had been mild for almost a whole moon, bringing the wildflowers early.

"Coming systir!" she replied. Gerda came out into the garden a few moments later, carrying a basket full of wildflowers and a smile on her face. "These will look so lovely in your hair tonight," she said holding up a bunch of lavender. "I'm sure Niklaus will be so happy to see you."

You blushed slightly at her words. Niklaus.

Your mother had told you that the feast tonight was to announce your marriage to the young Mikaelson. Your family was thrilled, having you marry one of the sons of the Karl increased your family's standing among the clan. However, you were still nervous. You had grown up with Niklaus, he was kind and had a sweet smile, but he was also quite wild and battle hungry. He had just returned from his first raiding voyage to the coast of the English lands, and the stories of his bravery were spreading.

“I'm sure he will, but he is not my betrothed yet," you said as you put some more flowers in your basket.

"That does not mean that he will not be soon, and you will have to kiss him eventually," Gerda replied.

"Gerda!" You threw a bunch of flowers at her. "Do not be so improper."

"Sorry systir," Gerda said laughing. "It's just exciting, you are getting married to a Mikaelson!"

"Let us hope that the gods smile on our union," you said, picking up your basket of flowers.

Gerda had only seen eleven summers yet she was eager to grow up, while you were less than eager. Your betrothal had been a long time coming and it was a good match for your family, but you didn't have the same excitement as your sister. You felt unprepared to be a wife.

You saw Niklaus coming over with his little brother Henrik and a small smile crossed your face.

You looked up at Niklaus. "Hello, Niklaus."

"My dear," Niklaus greeted, bowing his head. "You look beautiful as ever."

"Thank you," you replied.

Henrik stood beside his brother. "Nik, you promised we could spar today!"

"Henrik, patience," Niklaus said, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "How about you go with Gerda, she can watch while you practice."

"Come on Gerda, let's go," Henrik said excitedly, taking her hand and pulling her over to the field.

"Your brother seems enthusiastic," you remarked.

"It's what he was born to do," Niklaus said, watching his brother and your sister run off.

"They would make a good match, your Gerda and my Henrik," he suggested.

"Oh yes, Gerda is very fond of Henrik," you agreed. "But they are both so young, it's a bit too early to make a decision such as that."

"Of course, I would not wish to rush them," Niklaus said. "Besides, you are the one I'm here for today."

You looked away, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. He was a true charmer and had seen many battles even at his young age, the ladies in the village loved him and were always fighting over his attention. But the truth was you didn't feel anything when you looked at him. There was no spark or tingle of love the way it was described in the fables, just a friendship that you wished would turn into something more.

But it was an honor for your family, to be marrying into such a noble household. And it wasn't like he was ugly, or cruel. He was a good man and would no doubt make a fine husband.

"I think it will be an early spring, with all of these flowers in bloom," Niklaus said, reaching down and picking a blue wildflower and handing it to you.

"I do too," you replied, smiling and putting the flower in your hair.

"Nik, I thought you were sparring with me!" Henrik yelled, trying to gain the attention of his older brother

"Very well!" He responded, giving you a wink before running after his little brother, he picked up Gerda and gave her a spin, making her laugh.

You laughed at the sight and watched the three of them. Niklaus, Henrik, and Gerda. Playing around and having fun, but soon the time would come for them to grow up, and you feared what that would bring.

The sound of laughter and music filled the longhouse, you were sitting on a bench between your mother and father, enjoying the feast.

Henrik and Gerda were dancing and playing near the fire, laughing and smiling. They had been inseparable all day, both excited about the wedding to come.

Your eyes found Niklaus, sitting on the other side of the longhouse, chatting with his older brothers, Finn and Elijah.

Your engagement was to be announced tonight, in front of the whole clan, but you had already heard the news. You were going to be Niklaus' wife, and the next lady of the Mikaelson clan.

But you would be lying if you said that the thought didn't fill you with dread. You didn't feel ready to be a wife.

You saw beautiful Rebekah, Niklaus's sister, dancing with her friends. Her long blonde hair in a thick braid with ribbons and flowers. She was laughing and having a good time, while you sat alone and tried to hide how nervous you were.

She came over and took your hand. "Come dance,”

You smiled and joined her, spinning and twirling around.

"I've heard the news, congratulations," she said. "My brother is a very lucky man."

"Thank you," you replied.

Rebekah pulled you in close. "Soon you will be with child and I'll have a little niece or nephew to dote on," she said, her hand moving down to touch your belly.

You laughed, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, that is my hope."

"Well, the sooner the better," Rebekah replied. "Nik is getting antsy."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There has been word that the Blackthorne clan has been moving in this direction," she said. "Nik's been preparing for a battle, he says he will not let them pass our borders."

"I see," you replied. The Blackthorne clan were known to be ruthless and merciless. Their leader, a man named Einar, was notorious for his brutal raids and pillaging. It had been said that he once slaughtered an entire village just because they refused to give him one of their daughters.

"My father doesn't think they will make a move, but Niklaus is worried," Rebekah said. She gave you a searching look, "He lusts for war and glory."

You frowned, looking at her. "What if he's right? What if they attack? What will happen to us?"

"Don't worry sweet girl, you are apart of my family now, and the Mikaelsons will protect you," Rebekah promised.

As the night went on you feasted and danced with the people of the village. There was food and drink for everyone, and the mood was jovial.

You saw your father sitting next to Mikael, they were deep in conversation and your father was nodding along with whatever the elder Mikaelson was saying.

Mikael suddenly stood, raising his mug and the room fell silent.

"Tonight, we celebrate the engagement of my son Niklaus to the daughter of Erik," Mikael announced, looking over at the two of you.

"To a bright future, may they have many sons to lead us into battle and may their union bring great fortune to both families."

The clan erupted into cheers, banging on the table and lifting their mugs.

"A toast, to Niklaus and his bride!" Mikael called.

Everyone raised their mugs, cheering for the couple. Niklaus approached you and wrapped his arms around you. “It seems the gods have finally smiled upon us," he whispered.

You nodded and smiled at him, trying not to let him see the uncertainty in your eyes. He kissed your cheek and danced with you, the feast continuing on.

As the night wore on, you sat by yourself, watching the dancing and laughter. Rebekah and her friends were talking, Henrik and Gerda were still spinning around, and Niklaus was deep in conversation with Elijah.

Your parents had left, they were a bit older and didn't stay up late like the others. You wanted to leave as well, but Gerda was having so much fun, you didn't want to cut her night short.

Kol came over, sitting down beside you. "You should be out there having fun, not sulking here all alone."

"I'm not sulking," you replied.

"Yes you are," Kol said, grabbing a piece of bread from the table and stuffing it in his mouth. The two of you had grown up together, and he always knew when something was wrong.

"Well, the whole marriage thing has been weighing heavily on my mind," you confessed.

"Oh, come on, Nik's a fine warrior," Kol remarked. "My brother has always been taken with you, he will make a good husband... I think," he teased.

You laughed a bit, pushing him gently. "I know, I know, but I just wish to wait a bit longer. It seems like this has all happened so quickly."

Kol put his arm around you. "You will come to love him, and even if you don't, I am sure the bedding will be enjoyable."

"Kol, stop it!" You giggled, shoving him away.

He grinned and took another piece of bread, "You go home and rest, I'll watch Gerda."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Positive," he said. "You are both family now, I will protect her as if she were my own blood."

"Thank you, Kol," you replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I will see you tomorrow."

You made your way out of the longhouse and back towards your home, the cold night air filling your lungs, you breathed out a plume of heat into the chilly air, perhaps winter was not quite done yet. As you walked you thought about Niklaus, he had been so kind and thoughtful lately, he was a good man, you had no reason not to marry him.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of rustling in the bushes, you paused and listened. It was probably just a fox or some other woodland creature, but something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, you were knocked to the ground, a man pinning you down.

"Don't scream," he hissed.

You struggled beneath him, trying to push him off. He smelled of mead and sweat, his face was covered in dirt, his teeth rotted and bloody.

He pressed a blade to your throat, you stopped moving and let out a gasp.

"Do not fight, and I won't hurt you," the man growled.

He had black hair and was wearing a thick fur cloak, his body pressed against yours as he held you down. He pulled at your dress, ripping the fabric and exposing your skin.

"No!" You cried, struggling against him.

He moved his hand up and grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your jaw.

"You are a pretty one, will fetch a good price," he said, running his hand down your body and touching you roughly.

You heard the sound of a horn blowing, signaling a raid. Panic coursed through you.

The Blackthornes had come.

The man was distracted momentarily by the sound and you took the opportunity to grab a rock and smash it against his head. He grunted and fell back, letting you go. You scrambled away and stood up, running to your home.

You heard the shouts of the villagers as they prepared for battle, the sounds of swords clashing and people dying.

As you ran, you saw a group of warriors, led by Einar Blackthorne, storming through the village, killing and setting everything on fire. By the time you got to your house, it was in flames.

Your parents were nowhere to be seen and your heart dropped. You picked up the wood axe sitting on a stump and broke down the door, the heat and smoke burning your lungs.

"Faðir!" You shouted, coughing and looking around. "Móðir!"

"Y/N," a voice called. You saw your mother, kneeling on the floor and holding her hands over her chest.

"Móðir!" You cried, rushing over to her. "What happened, are you alright?"

"Dóttir," she said, reaching out to you, her breathing was labored and her hands were covered in blood.

Your father lay next to her, a wound in his stomach and a pool of blood surrounding him.

"Faðir," you gasped, looking at his lifeless body.

"Gerda," your mother croaked, clutching at your dress. "Go get Gerda,"

"I will," you assured her. "But first I must get you out of here."

You tried to help her stand, but her breathing became ragged and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Móðir?" You said, shaking her.

She didn't respond and her head slumped forward, her body limp in your arms.

"Móðir!" You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The smoke grew thicker, and the fire was getting closer. The wood beams above cracking and falling.

You laid her down gently, the smoke stinging your eyes, the heat of the flames singeing your hair and burning your skin.

You stumbled through the flames, making your way out of the house, you coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe in the clean air. Your village was engulfed in chaos and flames, you could see the invaders killing and stealing, their cries echoing through the night.

"Gerda," you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

A figure appeared in the darkness, a man wielding a sword, his body covered in blood and his face masked by the smoke. He was wearing the Blackthorne colors of gray and red. You raised your axe and struck him down, the blade slicing through his neck. Rage and adrenaline coursed through you, the fury of Tyr fueling you as you continued on, searching for Gerda.

Your family, your clan, your home had been destroyed. Everything you loved was burning, but you were determined to find your baby sister.

Your ran back to the longhouse, it was in flames, the heat radiating off of the building.

"Gerda!" You screamed out for her, trying to find her in the chaos.

You could hear the sound of fighting and screams, the smell of burning wood and blood filled the air.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the smoke, the same one who tried to rape you earlier, you raised your axe again, ready to strike.

But the man grabbed the blade, stopping the swing mid-air and pulling it from your grasp. He smirked and grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground. You looked up at the longhouse, the place where you had spent so many nights with the Mikaelson family, the place where Gerda and Henrik were.

"You will make a good prize," he growled, running his hands over your body.

"No!" You screamed, thrashing around and he laughed and pinned you down, his hands tearing at your dress.

You could hear the cries of the villagers as they fought for their lives, the screams of the children and the clash of steel.

A hand grabbed the back of your attacker's neck and he was ripped away from you, you gasped, scrambling back. You watched the men fight viciously, exchanging blows.

Your savior was wearing the Mikaelson colors of green and blue, and you realized it was Niklaus.

You stood and grabbed your axe, raising it and attacking other raiders as they tried to approach, giving Niklaus the advantage.

"Y/n! systir!" You heard the sound of your name being called and you looked up, seeing Gerda and Henrik being hauled off by the raiders.

"Gerda!" You shouted, running after them.

You couldn't reach them, another raider jumped in front of you, swinging his sword. You ducked and avoided his blow, swinging your axe and catching him in the side.

He fell to the ground and you kept running, chasing after the raiders and your sister. You ran as fast as you could, dodging the raiders who were trying to stop you. But it was no use, they caught you and dragged you back.

Snow was starting to fall, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin. Two raiders had you by the arms, dragging you along the cold ground, you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw Valhalla. They threw you onto the back of a horse, the cold metal of a knife pressed to your throat.

"Don't struggle or we'll throw you into the fire," the man behind you growled.

You kicked him hard, and he struck you across the face, but you didn't care. Your family was dead, your home was gone, and Gerda was being taken away.

Suddenly, the men on the horse yelled, and the knife was pulled from your throat. You looked up to see a figure in armor, holding a Mikaelson shield in one hand and a sword in the other.

He struck down the Raiders, their bodies falling to the ground. You were disoriented from the blow, unable to see who had come to your rescue.

The figure grabbed the reins of the horse, and the beast whinnied, bucking wildly. He pulled you against him, the metal of his armor cold against your skin.

"Shhhh," he whispered, trying to calm the horse.

You recognized the voice, it was Elijah, Niklaus’ elder brother.

"We have to get out of here, can you ride?" He asked.

You nodded and he handed you the reins. You could see the bodies of the raiders scattered around, and the sounds of the battle were beginning to fade. Snow and ash fell from the sky, and the scent of death hung in the air.

"Come on," Elijah said, pulling himself up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around you, taking the reins back. "I will take you somewhere safe," he promised.

"What about your family? They took Gerda and Henrik," you asked, tears stinging your eyes.

The horse took off, galloping through the woods and away from the destruction. You looked back, seeing the flames and smoke rising into the night sky, and you wondered if Gerda was still alive.

"I saw Niklaus going after them, we have to hope he can save them," Elijah replied.

You held onto the horse tightly, the wind and sleet whipping against your face. The snow falling heavier now, the trees bare and the branches covered in a layer of ice.

Elijah's voice cut through the cold, "I know a place we can shelter from this storm,"

The wind howled and the snow fell heavily, obscuring your vision. You could barely see a thing, but you trusted Elijah.

You didn't know how long you'd been riding, but eventually, Elijah stopped the horse and helped you down.

He brushed away some snow to reveal a small cabin built into a overhang of rock. He tied the horse to a post under the eaves of the structure and opened the door, motioning for you to enter.

"It's not much, but it will keep us warm," he said.

The cabin was made of logs and stones, and there was a fireplace in the center. You shivered, your body numb from the cold.

Elijah started a fire with some wood that was already stacked inside the cabin, and soon the room was filled with warmth and light.

You sat on a bench, the flames from the fireplace flickering, casting shadows on the walls. Elijah sat beside you, and you could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.

"What of the rest of your family? Your parents? Rebekah? Kol? Finn?" You asked.

Elijah let out a sigh, "my parents and Finn were killed, I lost Kol and Rebekah, I don't know where they are or if they're even alive,"

He turned to look at you, his dark eyes full of sadness. "What about your parents?"

You looked away, a lump forming in your throat. "Dead as well."

You tried to stop the tears, to be strong, but the thought of your mother and father, and all those people, gone, was too much to bear. You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, the grief washing over you like a tidal wave.

Elijah placed his cloak around you and got up to stoke the fire. He added more wood, and the flames crackled and popped.

He sat back down and you moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. You were both tired and hurt, and you knew that this might be the last night you ever spent alive. You were both silent for a moment, the weight of the night's events heavy on your minds.

"I am sorry about your family," Elijah whispered.

"As I am sorry about yours," you replied, looking up at him.

This was the first time you ever really spoke to him, as children you were always running around with Kol and Rebekah. Elijah was the stern older brother, the one who was always scolding you for being reckless. But now, he seemed so different.

He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

"We will find them, and send every single one of those Blackthornes straight to Hel,"

Niklaus was smiling as he feasted and celebrated his engagement. The scent of meat and ale mingled with the smell of pine and fire, the flickering candles casting a warm glow on the room.

He sat with his brother, Elijah, watching as the members of the clan drank and danced. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, Niklaus loved a good party, especially one that was about him.

"Isn't she a beauty, brother?" He remarked, watching you from across the table.

"She will be a fine wife for you," Elijah replied, sipping his mead.

"Do you think she will let me bed her before the wedding? I do wish to know what pleasures await me," he grinned.

"Niklaus," Elijah sighed, "You cannot speak of your betrothed in such a manner, have some respect."

"Relax brother, it is just the two of us," he shrugged.

"Still, a woman's virtue is not a subject to be jested about,"

"Oh come on, 'Lijah, I'm only joking. Even the gods would agree that the wedding cannot come soon enough." He said, taking a sip of his mead.

The men were sitting around the table, feasting and drinking. Niklaus watched his little brother Henrik playing with Gerda, they were dancing and spinning in circles.

"I'm surprised Kol is not joining in on the festivities," Niklaus said, nodding to where Kol was sitting alone at the end of the table.

"He's been moody lately," Elijah remarked. "His courting of the Blackthorne girl did not go well, he returned with an arrow in his thigh."

"He was lucky to come back at all," Niklaus muttered. "Father won't listen to reason when it comes to the Blackthornes."

"What would you have him do Niklaus? Wage a war we cannot win?" Elijah replied, his eyes flickering over to where you were talking to some of the women.

"This is how I see it. We either bring the fight to the Blackthornes or wait for them to bring the fight to us," Niklaus stated.

"You two talk of politics like wise old men," Finn piped up. "But you're nothing more than fools, unprepared for battle. The Blackthornes are a mighty clan, and if we were to attack, we would lose everything we've built here."

"When have you seen battle Finn? When you put your trousers on in the morning? Or when you wipe your ass?" Niklaus laughed, grinning at Finn maliciously.

Finn rolled his eyes and ignored the insult, "This is a peaceful village. The only bloodshed we've seen is at the hands of wolves and bears. Father is right to avoid conflict."

"I stopped listening after you said 'father is right', that means nothing to me," Niklaus remarked, downing his drink.

"Well, then I shall take my leave and continue this conversation with someone who actually has the capacity to understand it," Finn huffed, getting up from his seat.

Elijah shook his head, "He does have a point Niklaus. War is not something we can take lightly, the consequences could be dire."

Niklaus watched as Finn went over to you and offered his hand, no doubt asking you for a dance. He watched as you politely rejected Finn. He smiled to himself, you really were the perfect wife.

"We can't avoid the Blackthornes forever. Eventually, we will have to make a move," Niklaus stated.

"Not today, Niklaus, not tonight. Tonight is a night of celebration," Elijah said. "You cannot lust after war on the night of your engagement."

"Fine," Niklaus sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow,"

"Very well," Elijah agreed.

"I'll hold you to that," Niklaus said, downing the rest of his mead, he watched as you danced with Rebekah, he loved the way you smiled and laughed.

He felt a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that soon, you would be his wife. He looked to his father, who raised his mug and toasted to the union, a gesture that surprised Niklaus, but also put him at ease.

The music began to play, and the men started dancing with their wives. He came over to you, and told you how the gods were smiling down at your union. You looked so beautiful, and he could barely take his eyes off of you.

He danced with you for a while, before Elijah approached and asked for a private word. The brothers found a quiet corner, away from the crowds and music.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I've gotten word from a scout that the Blackthornes are near. Their numbers are great, and they are preparing to attack," Elijah informed him.

"When will they be here?" Niklaus asked, his mind already racing with possible scenarios and outcomes.

"On the morrow, if the scouts are correct," Elijah replied, his voice tense.

"Then we must prepare. I'll rally the men, and we'll set a trap. We'll lead the Blackthornes into the woods, and ambush them," Niklaus said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Father has it well in hand, enjoy the celebrations Niklaus," Elijah said. "And be careful not to drink too much, I will need your help in the morning."

Niklaus nodded, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over to where you were sitting, chatting and laughing with Kol. You were so happy and carefree, and he wanted to protect that, even if it meant risking his life.

Niklaus spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing, trying to push aside his worries. You left not long after, and he went to follow, but Kol stopped him, "Let her be Niklaus. She's tired, and I'm sure she has a lot on her mind."

He begrudgingly agreed and stayed, dancing with Henrik on his shoulders as Gerda did on Kol's. It was late, and he could feel the effects of the mead and ale taking hold.

"Off to bed now little Henrik. I'll walk you home sweet Gerda," Kol said softly, setting her down and kissing her cheek.

Suddenly the sound of a horn rang through the night air, and they froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"To arms!" Mikael shouted, his voice echoing through the longhouse.

The room erupted into chaos, the men rushing to grab their weapons and armor. Niklaus laughed, rushing to grab his sword, "So much for a peaceful night!"

He grabbed his shield and rushed outside, joining the fray of battle.

The smell of blood and sweat filled his nostrils as he swung his sword, cutting down raider after raider. Glory and honor filled his heart as he fought, but the thought of you was never far from his mind.

He had promised you that he would keep you safe, and he intended to keep that promise. Your father was old and you had no brothers to defend you, tonight it was his duty. He headed towards your home, but stopped at the sound of his sister screaming, he turned to see Finn swinging wildly at Einar Blackthorne.

His eldest brother was standing in front of Rebekah, she was holding a sword with shaking hands.

"Finn, don't!" Rebekah pleaded, watching him try to fight Einar, but it was an uneven match, Einar struck Finn across the torso with his axe and he crumpled to the ground.

Rebekah fell to her knees at his side, "No! Finn, no!" She cried, clutching to his body.

Einar grabbed Rebekah by the hair and dragged her away.

Niklaus roared and chased after them, but was cut off by a group of raiders, and he slashed and hacked his way through them, searching for where his sister had been taken in the chaos.

Kol was fighting nearby, the young warrior was up against a beast of a man, he stabbed Kol in the arm and he collapsed to the ground.

He heard the sounds of Kol's screams, the boy was fighting for his life. The sight of Kol, bloody and beaten, snapped something inside Niklaus.

He ran towards the man who had stabbed his brother, his eyes full of rage and fury. The man was large and strong, but Niklaus was faster, he plunged his sword into the man's chest and twisted, watching as the life drained from his eyes.

Niklaus could almost hear the drum beats of war, as though the gates of Valhalla had opened, and his ancestors were cheering him on.

The scent of blood and death was thick in the air, and the sounds of clashing metal and screams filled the night. The ground was covered in the bodies of the dead and wounded, and the snow was stained crimson.

He pulled Kol to his feet, and saw Elijah fighting off a group of raiders, his movements a blur as he sliced and cut.

"I can't find Rebekah, they've taken her!" Niklaus cried out.

"We will find her, brother. I promise," Elijah replied, his gaze fierce and determined.

Niklaus could see the fires from the longhouse, the smoke rising into the sky. His family's home was burning, and the village was being pillaged and raided.

Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, his hands on their shoulders, "our father and mother have been stuck down, I could not save them,"

"Finn?" Kol asked, his eyes darting around, looking for the eldest brother.

"Gone," Niklaus replied.

The three brothers looked at each other, the weight of their losses settling over them. Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, their foreheads touching.

"I will find Rebekah, I promise. Niklaus, find Y/N, get her to safety," Elijah instructed.

"But brother-" Niklaus began.

"Now!" Elijah roared.

Niklaus and Kol exchanged a glance and nodded, and Elijah took off in one direction.

Niklaus and Kol began to search the village, but all they found were the bodies of their people, dead and dying.

The sound of your screams caught Niklaus' attention, and he rushed towards the noise, Kol close behind.

They found you, being held by a raider, he was ripping at your clothes, and you were fighting him with all your might.

Kol saw Rebekah being loaded onto a cart and he rushed after it.

Niklaus' vision turned red, and he charged at the raider, pulling him off of you and tackling him to the ground. His blood was boiling, and he couldn't stop his rage.

He slammed his fist into the raider's face, again and again. The sound of bones crunching and the taste of blood filled his senses. He attacked him like a rabid beast and he watched you get to your feet and lunge at another raider, cutting him down with just a wood axe. He smiled and laughed at the sight, the goddess Freja possessed you, beautiful and deadly.

He heard the sounds of Gerda's screams and watched you chase after her. He went to follow but was knocked over by a blow to the head.

He rolled over, the world spinning around him. He tried to stand, but he stumbled and his vision blurred. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and silence fell.

He saw you being dragged away, kicking and screaming. He saw Kol, fighting a few paces away, his movements becoming slower and sloppier as his wounds took their toll. But he had saved Rebekah, she was helping him stay upright, the two of them fighting back to back.

He saw a raider raise his axe to strike Kol, and he saw Rebekah push him out of the way. Blood burst from her face as the blade made contact. She fell to the ground, clutching her head.

It was as if Thor himself had struck him with lightning, he forced himself to stand, roaring with pure rage. He grabbed a spear from the ground. He hurled it, watching as it impaled the raider, a look of surprise and pain on his face as he fell to the ground, dead.

Niklaus rushed towards his siblings, grabbing them and dragging them to their feet.

"Go!" He shouted, picking up Rebekah and dragging her towards the tree line, Kol close behind.

He looked back, trying to see you, but you were gone.

They stumbled into the woods, the sounds of the raid fading into the distance.

"Where's Elijah? Henrik, Gerda, Y/n?" Kol asked, panic in his voice.

Niklaus didn't reply, the weight of his sister and the wound in his side making it difficult to breathe.

"Niklaus, where are they?" Kol repeated.

"I- I don't know," Niklaus panted, stumbling over a branch.

The trees loomed above them, the darkness of the forest threatening to swallow them whole.

They continued to run, the sounds of the battle growing distant.

"We will find them. But first we must get Rebekah to a healer, she will die if we do not," Niklaus stated, his voice low and determined.

"We can't just leave them," Kol protested, his voice cracking.

"You don't think I know that!" Niklaus yelled, louder and angrier than he meant to.

Kol was quiet, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

They walked for what felt like an eternity, the pain in Niklaus' side growing worse with every step. The rapidly falling snow making it hard to see.

Niklaus could hear Kol sniffling and muttering to himself, his younger brother was barely holding on.

He was struggling too, the guilt and pain eating away at him.

He had failed you.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡

87 notes · View notes

theofficialpresidentofmars · 1 month

Text

did I ever tell you guys about how I would adapt (the tragedy of) Hamlet (prince of Denmark) if ever given the chance. because I have so many thoughts and I’m adding onto them all the time so here’s a post with all my ideas compiled.

- firstly, it would be an animated mini-series of five episodes, each one corresponding to an Act. I think Animation is a highly under-utilised and underappreciated medium that would suit this particular story well in terms of what it could achieve visually and also these are just a bunch of words to say I’m heavily biased towards animation and just love it so much.

- there are so many fun little character design tidbits i would implement. including but not limited to: Horatio being the shortest, Claudius/Hamlet Sr identical twins (and Claudius having a Scar reminiscent scar on his face for the drama… and also the eventual Act 5 Scene 2 parallels when Laertes wounds Hamlet with the rapier in an incidentally similar way), Laertes having a silly curly moustache, Horatio and Ophelia resembling the other, Hamlet looking tired, pale and ghostly at all times, character’s hair being used as a way to show passing of time (Hamlet having hair on the long side of short in Act 1, growing but in a little ponytail over Act 2, medium-length and unkempt in Acts 3 & 4, and cut shortly and neatly in Act 5. also Ophelia’s hair growing noticeably as well and being often neatly braided with little flowers in Acts 1-2, loosely braided without flowers in Act 3, but being down and wild in Act 4 etc), and so on so forth.

- I would shamelessly be including flashbacks to pre-tragedy memories of the castle/inhabitants. Baby R&G&H running through the castle halls and playing hide and seek. Hamlet actually, god forbid, practicing fencing. The Players entertaining at the castle in Hamlet’s youth. Ophelia and Hamlet sneaking out into the garden beneath the willows by the pond, Hamlet braiding flowers into her hair while they sit together. Yorick entertaining baby Hamlet. All coloured with the softest, goldenest glows that nostalgia can manage to contrast the desaturated depressive hues of the current day. I think a lot of the tragedy of *Hamlet* specifically lies in comparing what was to what ended up being, and since the play starts after Hamlet’s entered his mourning period, it’s hard to fully comprehend the true nature of such a fall.

- Each Act having a lovely stylised title card in its introduction with themes and motifs that are specifically prevalent throughout. Act 3 would have curtains, for example, given the play staging and Polonius’ later poor choice of hiding place. Act 5 introduces the classic skull we all know and love.

- Very purposeful dramatic lighting and colour throughout. Daylight lighting and then the switch to a lot of Hamlet’s soliloquies seeming to appear under more ‘spotlight’ lighting. Early evening during the play, sunset during the scene where Claudius prays (golden light tricking through beautiful stained-glass windows), nightfall when Hamlet yells at Gertrude. Lighting also being used to dramatise entrances perhaps, such as Claudius’s prayer being interrupted by the shift to ‘spotlight’ lighting before we even see Hamlet at the door.

- Same goes with music and motifs, interwoven character leitmotifs and themes that shift keys and qualities and work together to make larger pieces and show up to herald the arrival of a character, or turn sour to match their emotions.

- the visual humour of the play being upped, as well as the wordy humour being emphasised, in order to really contrast the shift in tone throughout the halves of the play. I’ve always been a tragicomedy truther when it comes to Hamlet, I think if done well it could be a really neat way to get the audience to invest more in the characters while also really highlighting how quickly everything goes south.

Probably add more on as I go

#hamlet #hamletposting #shakespeare

87 notes · View notes

beingsuneone · 6 months

Text

Tragedy

PART ONE | PART TWO

SYNOPSIS: You hadn’t lived in the Spring Court for a long time, not since the Night Court murdered your entire family except yourself and your brother, Tamlin. You don’t think about it much, except when you argue with Rhysand, when it becomes a threat. You always promise him that you’re sick of him and you’re going to return to Spring but you never do. Until you do.

FANDOM: A Court Of Thorns And Roses

PAIRING(S): Rhysand x Tamlin’s Sister!Fem!Reader

RATING: G

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Cassian, Azriel, Tamlin, Mor, Amren

GENRE/AU: Pre-Amarantha/cusp of, some fluff, some angst, Lost Royalty Au (Tamlin’s lost Sister)

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

WARNINGS: Physical Violence (thanks Tam), mentions of arguments

A/N: the dividers looks best on dark mode, also dividers and header made my me :) also, this is both the first thing I’ve finished and the first fic I’ve posted since last year!! (My old fics aren’t up anymore) I reeeallly wanna write a pt 2.

DEDICATIONS: n/a

CREDITS: n/a

The snow crunches softly under your feet, which are already halfway to freezing and you’re only fifty paces outside of the townhouse.

You’d just had another fight with Rhysand and had threatened— for the millionth time— that you were going to return to Spring Court and live with your brother, Tamlin. The only member of your blood family still alive.

Both Rhysand and yourself know it’s not true. You’ve never made it down the first street in Velaris before you’re crawling back and begging Rhysand to forgive you. (Or visca versa)

Partly because you love him and largely because you’re terrified to return to Spring, No matter how petty your pride wishes to be.

When you were a young Fae, you had gone for a walk in the garden with your guard; It was late at night and you had been up due to nightmares. However, when you got closer to the Manor in Spring you heard a distinct scream and several loud noises, and your guard had immediately herded you as far as he could from the manor. All the way out of spring, and through the wall.

There, you were shunned by humans, and hunted by many; until a small family took you in, not caring about your pointy ears or inhuman beauty. They didn’t mind the flowers you magicked into existence or how you made their human babies laugh by shape-shifting. You were never dangerous to them, so they protected you until the day they died.

That was the day you returned to Prythian, mourning the loss of the only real family you had ever known.

Eventually you ended up in Night Court, wandering aimlessly around the vast nothingness of the court; you wondered why such a large and powerful court would seem to have almost no Fae in it— or even civilizations, for that matter. All you could see for miles and miles was mountains, trees, grass… anything in nature but no Fae.

You settled into a cave on the side of a cliff and foraged whatever food you could find. It wasn’t much but it kept you alive.

Until one day, a large winged man at the entrance of the cave, scared the ever-loving shit out of you.

“Oh- my Cauldron!” You had exclaimed, staring at who you now know to be Cassian.

He had given you a weird look and rudely remarked. “You’re awfully small for a Fae.” Then he amended, “although Amren is much smaller.”

You hadn’t known who Amren was, or what in the world he was talking about. “Who are you?” You asked him skeptically.

Cassian had opened his mouth to reply but then Rhysand walked through the door.

“I feel we should be asking you the same question.” He said smoothly. You had been immediately taken by him, his Deep Purple eyes and shadowy aura.

So much so, you almost hadn’t noticed the Mating Bond snapping into place.

Your eyes widened and one of his twitched as his cool expression dropped a moment. Rhysand, as good as he is at masks, wiped his emotions from his face a moment later.

He said, “Why don't you come along with us and tell us along the way.” He had paused and looked you up and down. “Certainly, it will be better than staying in this cave?”

You had just stumbled to your feet and nodded, taking Rhysand’s hand when he had extended to you.

That’s the moment that breaks you every time, what makes you turn right back around into Rhysand’s arms.

You remind yourself that he’s been with you for centuries now and he’s helped you heal more than you ever could on your own.

He’s the one who told you, despite his history with your family, that Tamlin was still alive; he was honest about his Family’s and his involvement in your family’s murder.

It had been hard not to hold it against him but you eventually forgave the man he is, not the kid he used to be. Besides, Spring had killed his family first, so, you supposed it had become an even playing field.

“Love,” Rhysand’s voice comes from behind you. “Please come back, I’m sorry.”

You turn around slowly, your eyes stinging with tears that threaten to flow. “Why do I do this every time?”

He sighs, and gently laces his fingers with yours. “We don’t think rationally when we’re arguing, Darling. It’s okay,” He pulls you closer and you feel yourself relax.

“Besides,” he continues. “I think you should go visit your brother— as much as I hate the thought of it.”

You pull back and look up at him. “Surely, he can’t have grown to be that terrible, Rhysand, he was a good brother when I left.” You think back to before you’d left but it’s so long ago it feels a bit blurry and out-of-reach. “Maybe inattentive but certainly not mean.”

Rhysand looks into your eyes, there’s an emotion loaded in his that you don’t take the time to decipher it because you aren’t sure you want to know. “My personal feelings skew how I see him, Darling, you have to see for yourself.” He pushes a stand of hair out of your face, and gently kisses your forehead. “Maybe it will be different with his own sister.”

You rest your forehead on his chest and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Can we go back inside now?” You ask quietly. “My feet are freezing.”

Rhysand just chuckles and disconnects from you, save for taking one of your hands and leading you back towards the townhouse. “My love, next time you threaten to run away, please wear a coat and proper shoes.” He says playfully, flashes you a teasing smile.

You mock-glare at him, but can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. “No, actually, I think I’d quite like to freeze to death before I ever make it out of Night.”

“Of course you would.”

…..

“How far you make it this time?” Cassian smiles when you and Rhysand walk in the door, Azriel is already building a fire and Mor is smiling brightly in a chair in front of the budding flame. Amren is sitting in one of the other chairs grumbling about the lack of good blood to drink or something— you loved her but she’d always confused you.

“Didn’t make it down the block.” Rhysand says back to Cassian, before he sits you down in front of the fire to warm up.

You shrug him off, not needing him to baby you. “Knock it off, Cassian.” You say roughly, not actually mad but feeling even colder now that you’re in a warm space. You turn your head back to Rhysand, who's already leaning on a wall across the room. “And you, Mister Automatic-Heater, come back here.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He says as Mor snickers at you. Rhysand sits down next to you and pulls you into him, using his magic to warm you up. You both know the fire never works fast enough.

You sit there for a long time, just lost in Rhysand’s presence, long enough that the others clear the room and go off to do their own things.

It’s only when everyone is finally out of earshot that Rhysand leans down, brushes his lips against the shell of your ear and whispers, “I love you, darling.”

You shiver and turn your head to face him before you place a kiss on his cheek and whisper back, “I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He shakes his head, pulling your face upwards, with two fingers under your jaw and his thumb under your chin.

You reach a hand over his and brush his hair out of his face, before you push his arm down and settle your hand on his cheek.

Then, you press your lips to his.

…..

“Okay,” Rhysand sighs, you know he’s nervous about leaving you here. “I probably shouldn’t enter Spring, so I’ll wait here. Use the bond if you need me, please.”

You place a hand on his cheek, and get closer to him. “Rhysand, I promise you, I’ll be okay.” You swipe your thumb soothingly on his cheeks. “I have to do this.”

He nods, placing his own hand over yours, while nuzzling into your hand. “I know, my love, you can absolutely handle yourself.” He pulls back, and gives you a reassuring smile. “Alright, go.”

You nod your head once and walk over the border to Spring; before you take another step, you turn back. “I love you, Rhysand.” You say, assuredly. The words have more weight to them than normal, like you’re trying to convince both yourself and Rhysand that everything is going be alright.

Luckily, the Manor rests right on one of the edges of spring, so it’s easy to find after all this time.

After a few minutes, you reach the front gates. A guard tilts his spear into your path so you have to stop.

“What is your business here?” He says gruffly.

You straighten your back and try to find the most regal parts of yourself. “I am Y/N of spring court, High Lord, Tamlin’s sister.” You're sure you said it so demandingly that he’d just let you in but the guard just looks you up and down.

“Spring Court High Fae… In Night Court Clothes?” He shakes his head. “Plus our Y/N died several Centuries ago.”

You sigh. “I don’t need to convince you, I just need to speak to Tamlin. Please.”

The guard stamps his spear, as if to tell you to go away.

So, you pull out your last playing card. “Okay, Fine. As the High Lady of the Night Court, I demand a meeting with your High Lord.” You pause. “Unless you’d like to directly deny both myself and my High Lord?”

This sends the guard into a tizzy. He opens the gate and leads you inside. He abandons you there though, and leaves you with a red-haired man.

“Who are you?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “I am Lucien. Who are you, and how did you convince the guard to let you in?”

You straighten up once again. “I am Tamlin’s sister, Y/n.”

He looks you up and down and gives you a ‘you’re joking, right?’ Look. “You’re in Night Court clothes.”

You throw your arms in the air and let them fall back down. “Yes, thank you for stating the obvious. Obviously, I believed all my family to be dead and sought a home elsewhere.”

“In the Night Court. The home of the people who killed your family.” His voice is flat.

“I ended up there, but it is not where I originally went. My personal guard, Claude, took me to the human world to keep me safe from the previous High Lord of the Night Court. He was hunted down for being Fae.” You stop, feeling the annoyance bubbling under your skin; still, Lucien looks as though you’ve just spun an elaborate story. “Just let me see Tamlin, he will recognize me.”

Lucien doesn’t move.

You continue. “Do not make me use my status again please.”

This catches his attention. “What status? because if you really are from Spring Court, you certainly don’t have any.”

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the ‘High Lady’ card, once again. “If you must know, and I’d much prefer you leave me to tell this to Tamlin, but I am the High Lady of the Night Court, and that is how I got inside.” You stare at him for a moment. “Can I see my brother now, or must I find him myself?”

Lucien practically scoffs at this point. “Now I really don’t believe you. It’s unbelievable enough that Tamlin’s sister would live in Night Court but, High Lady? That is not even a real title.”

You are really starting to get annoyed. “Okay, well, first, I didn’t even know that Night Court was the one to kill my family until I’d already met Rhysand, and second, we’re mates! I don’t really get to choose that, do I?”

You’re about to say something else but you stop. “Why in the world am I arguing with you. I don’t even know you. Where is Tamlin?”

“I’m right here.” A new voice enters the conversation; it’s deep but familiar, and there’s a new edge to it that makes your skin crawl.

When you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks. His eyes widen a fraction, and his lips purse.

“Y/n?” He says, taking a tentative step towards you. “Is that you?”

You sigh in relief. “Yes, it is. Although I’ve had a hard time convincing everyone else of that.” You close the gap between yourself and your brother and hug him.

“I thought you were dead.” He says quietly. “We never found your body. I assumed the awful Night Court took your body just as our father took their wings.”

You freeze at the mention of the wings. They are Rhysand’s Mother’s and Sister’s wings. Then Tamlin seems to notice my attire. The air turns cold, a power you thought only Rhysand and maybe the Winter Court possessed.

“Why are you wearing Night Court clothes?” He says, tugging on your sleeve. You pull away from him, just a few paces.

“When I escaped,” you start, feeling inexplicably nervous as Tamlin stares down at you. “Claude took me to the human world. I lived there for at least a century before my human family died and I came back here.” You stop, gauging his reaction. “Then, I assumed everyone else had died that night and couldn’t bear to come back to spring, So…. I just walked, and walked, and— you get the point.

“Eventually I ended up in the Night Court and I lived in a cave for a long time before Rhysand found me and—”

Tamlin cuts you off. “Rhysand? Why do you talk about him with so much familiarity?” His teeth grind and he looks positively fuming. “You do know that he’s the reason our family is dead, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“You would betray our family like this and become part of the Court who caused our demise?”

“No, Tamlin—”

He turns his face away from you, his fists clenched. “No sister of mine would behave this way.”

Your mouth drops open, but you snap it shut. “Tamlin, when I met Rhysand, I didn’t know who killed our family.” You explain calmly. “I was just a starving woman, living in a Night Court cave.”

He glares down at you, an air of superiority hanging around his head. “And how did you learn that it was Night Court? Who killed them?”

You take a deep breath. “He told me. Honestly, truthfully, he simply told me.” You stretch your shoulders nervously, and prepare to tell him that thing that you suppose will anger him most.

It's a reasonable reaction, you think; after all, if you’d been in his place, you’d be plenty angry that your sister was conversing with people who killed your entire family.

Before you can get out though, Tamlin speaks again. “You will come live in Spring with me.” It’s not a question, he is telling you what you must do.

Your eyes soften. “I cannot do that.”

“You can and you will.” Tamlin says with a finality in his voice.

You give him a pointed look now and reiterate, “No, I cannot and I will not.” A tug on the bond pulls your attention away briefly, and you realize how sick with worry Rhysand must be. You tug back to reassure him. “Tamlin, I live in the Night Court, that is my home.”

You know sugar coating your situation will not help, but based on his reactions, it’s becoming hard to get out.

“This will be your home again.” He says it so plainly, and though he tries to leave no room for argument, you know that you must argue.

“I’m the High Lady of the Night Court, Tamlin. This cannot ever be my home again.” You say sternly.

He falls quiet and unmoving for just a moment before he explodes.

“Not only have you been cohorting with our enemies, but you have married the worst one of them all?” He roars, you haven’t heard someone yell at you so thoroughly for a very long time. Even when you argue, Rhysand never yells.

“Rhysand is not a bad man, Tamlin, no matter what you may think!” You snap back.

It takes you a moment to register what happens next, but, before you can, you're on the floor and your cheek has a harsh sting.

When you compose yourself and realize what happens, you whisper. “Rhysand was right about you.”

His face goes red once more but he just releases a strained breath and spits, “High Lady’s do not exist, no matter what he tells you, dear sister.” Then with the meanest sneer you’ve ever seen in your life, he says, “Do not come crawling back to me when your life falls into shambles.”

You rise to your feet, dust off your pants, and try to retain your composure. “You are not the brother I remember, Tamlin.” Then, you turn and begin walking to the door. “In fact, I am not sure you are that brother at all.”

The manor’s door shut behind you and you tredge back to Spring’s edge where you know Rhysand’s comforting arms will be waiting.

You see him before he sees you, but his jaw clenches as soon as he does.

“What did he do to you.” He says it so flatly it doesn’t sound like a question; he closes the distance between you two and runs his thumb over what you assume is a mark on your face.

You try to make light of the situation to hold back the tears that are gathering in your eyes. “Things got a bit physical.” You amend, “on his end, at least.”

Rhysand does not appreciate the joke. “I should’ve gone with you, he never would have tried anything in front of me.”

You shrug. “I suppose that shows the kind of man he is.”

Rhysand turns your cheeks to get a better look at the mark. “No, Darling, I think this does.”

He lets his hand fall from your face, and so you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your stinging face in his chest. “You were right, Rhys. I should have listened to you.”

You can feel him shake his head. “No, you needed to see for yourself; I should’ve been there to prevent the worst of it.”

You pull away from him and look back towards the Manor. You spot Tamlin watching the two of you from a balcony, but you are far enough away, you can’t make out his expression.

Rhysand stares back, a silent promise for retribution, one way or another.

“Can we please just go home?” You tug on Rhysand’s sleeve. “I want to rid my mind of this interaction.”

He looks back down at you and smiles tenderly. “Of course, my love.”

…..

You had fallen down into your shared bed with Rhysand and let the tears silently fall while Rhysand goes off to do whatever it is he needs to do.

You had told him you wanted a minute alone; after probably only ten minutes you had drifted off to sleep.

Now, you’re being shaken awake by Mor.

“Y/n, wake up.” She sounds panicked so you shoot up.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” You say, as your heart pounds, every fear you’ve ever had races through your mind.

She looks deep into your eyes. “We can’t leave Velaris,” her expression reflects sorrow. “And Rhysand is gone.”

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

219 notes · View notes

reticent-writer · 1 year

Text

Blood demon art: Plants P1, P2, P3, P4, P5(current), P6,

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Rengoku gave you a ticket as the man approached. You gave it to him to punch.

'Somethings wrong.' you thought as you smelt the newly punched ticket. Its faint but you can definitely smell lower moon Enmu. The lights started flickering and suddenly you were back at the infinity castle. In your father's experiment room.

'this can't be right.' you looked around to find something- anything out of place. Nothing.

You could hear footsteps approach the room.

The door opened.

"Papa!" You ran up to him as he kneeled getting himself ready for impact as your body hugged him, a near bone crushing hug if he was human.

"I'm sorry papa, I only wanted to see the flowers I never wanted to cause you trouble." You sobbed into his shoulder as he comforted you.

"What are you talking about, Y/n? What flowers, you have a flower garden in here?"

"Oh right my flower garden. Can we go there I wanna show you something." You pretended to be confused, You realized this was a dream. You didn't wan to wake up.

--------

"Ah little Y/n your father is worried to death over you, let's get you home yeah." Enmu said from the first car.

He sent a child to bring you to him.

It's uncommon for a demon to sleep as soundly as you but it was also hard for you face reality. You caused many problems for your father and against his wishes. However, you weren't guilty of it. In fact your glad that you were able to see the outside world and meet so many people... The same people who want to kill demons.

You want everyone to get along but it's not that simple. You'd rather not think about it.

What a mess, a sad tragedy.

"Did I do good?" The child brought you laid you in front of Enmu.

"Yes you did, A wonderful dream awaits you."

The poor girl fell to the ground. dead.

"Y/n~ I would what you could be dreaming about." Enmu pet your head. "I would've never thought my little spell would work on you."

--------

*back in the dream*

Dragging him to your flower garden you sat him down it the center.

"Blood demon art: Botanical Communication." (name is a work in progress)

As your demon art activated the flowers around started to dance and change color creating a beautiful display of mesmerizing imagery. You danced with the moving flowers as they formed each image. Muzan clapped and encouraged you to continue.

The images you made mimicked the things that you have seen on your time outside of the castle.

This might be a dream but It's the happiest you've been in a long time.

'I should wake up now... I should- shouldn't I'

--------

The train has now been completely taken over by Enmu. You were in his 'head' with the conductor to watch over you. It wasn't long before Hanafuda and the boar man to know that and start attacking it.

They successfully killed the lower moon and broke the spell on you.

You woke up in tear on the ground. Looking around you see the derailed train behind you. You try and push you self up failing to see you right arm and leg have been broken.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Tag list: @american-idiot21, @unhappy-filling

Y'all ready to see Akaza. I'm making a poll in the next one. You decided how the story will turn after that.

#male reader #female reader #gn reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #child reader #x child reader #muzan x child reader #demon slayer x child reader #kny x child reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

829 notes · View notes

dyns33 · 2 months

Text

A story of witch

Happy Valentine day !

As a gift, here a looooooooong Morpheus x female reader.

Careful, some spoilers here, from the comics and so maybe from season 2.

Time had a different hold on witches.

A certain influence, because contrary to common beliefs, nothing escaped time and nothing was perfectly eternal, but it slipped over them as long as they decided, and had enough magic to repel its effects.

Y/N had already been walking on Earth for several centuries when she met Morpheus.

She had heard many legends about the Endless. Rumors. Lots of warnings, especially regarding Dream, who was described as a changeable, dangerous, angry and resentful being.

Her many sisters whispered to each other that becoming his lover was as much a gift as a curse. He would offer you the whole world on a platter, he would do everything to please you, and then one day, without warning, you would no longer suit him, you would do something wrong according to him, the feelings would no longer be as strong, and then misfortune would strike you.

The king would always find a way to blame you for this new emotional failure. Then you risked Hell, endless nightmares, eternal sleep.

Too much hassle for little benefit.

Y/N didn’t think about any of that when she met Morpheus. Neither to the wonders he could offer her, nor to the torments he risked inflicting on her.

For a witch, some might have thought that she was young, still naive, far too in love with her books and grimoires, fascinated by stories, and therefore vulnerable to the charms of the dreams master.

She didn't think she would fall in love. Neither did he. The mourning of his marriage and his child were still recent, for a being such as him. Y/N had barely been born when this tragedy had happened.

The subject was not brought up, like none of his former lovers. Morpheus did not forget, he never forgot, but when a new relationship began, he did not look back to compare with the previous ones.

No doubt it was a mistake on his part, who then never learned from his mistakes.

Y/N hadn’t had as many relationships as him. Witches have the luxury of immortality, and they knew the consequences of it. Bonding with mortals wasn't a good idea, even less so with their peers. Too risky. Too dangerous.

Attempting to see the future in dreams could have been described with the same words. Y/N was taking the risk of being punished by two Endless, Destiny and Dream.

But Destiny never interfered in anything, and Dream was intrigued by the little witch, asking her not to repeat her experiments, but welcoming her into his domain.

As they walked in his garden, the inhabitants of the Dreaming knew before them what was going to happen.

"Your flowers are beautiful. Everything is beautiful here."

“Would you like to see my library ?”

"Oh, I'd love to ! But you must have a lot to do, I don't want to bother you more than necessary."

"You don't bother me, mikri magissa. You are welcome here."

It took a while for Y/N to realize that they were getting closer. The courting of the king of stories was subtle, ethereal like him, full of poems and tenderness while doing without many words far too heavy with meaning, and at the same time far too limited to convey all the ardor of their love.

Because they loved each other, there was no doubt about it. The end of their story came quickly, although to a mortal three centuries seemed like a lot. At the same time, those who knew Morpheus well could testify that this was quite a long time for a relationship with him. But as always with his relationships, there had to be an end.

“I’m just saying he’s not wrong.”

"You don't know what you're talking about, o mágos mou. This man is insane and I'm not lonely."

“However, I have felt you far from me for some time now. Perhaps forever.”

"Don't I love you more than anything ? Haven't I shown you my love on many occasions ?"

"I don't know. It's difficult for me to know with you, immutable and yet so variable. Sometimes you give so much, too much, and sometimes not enough, if it's not nothing. There is no middle ground with you. Probably not with me either. It's possible that I'll ask you impossible things."

“Nothing is impossible for me.”

“Yet you refuse to speak, to really speak. You flee this kind of discussion, as you fled the friendship of this man.”

“Don’t push me, Agápe μου.”

Y/N left the Dreaming that night knowing she wasn’t coming back. Morpheus' indifference to her departure could have been seen as fortunate, but it hurt her deeply. He didn't try to catch her, he didn't try to punish her either.

Even though it seemed obvious after several weeks that he would not pursue her, neither in her dreams nor in the Waking, Y/N took precautions to prevent their paths from crossing again. Using several spells, rituals, amulets and ancient seals, she ensured that her mind was cut off from the realm of her former lover.

This protection proved very useful when the sleeping sickness arrived.

Like the rest of the world, Y/N didn't immediately understand what was happening. She knew Dream enough to know that he would never neglect his work like that, that he would not abandon his position unless forced to do so, and that despite all the cruelty and resentment he was capable of, he would never do such a thing to the dreamers.

Something had happened, but she didn't know what.

Too afraid of what he could do to her if she went into the Dreaming, or what could happen to her sleep without the protections, Y/N didn't try to find out. It wasn't her business anyway, since they were no longer together and the fate of humanity wasn't part of her responsibilities.

Time continued to pass, and she still tried to help mortals when she could, with potions and incantations to help them sleep, or on the contrary wake up, ensuring that their nights were not entirely nightmares.

But this was difficult, because she was not the master of dreams. Without knowing it, she came very close to Morpheus the day her steps led her near a mansion with dark, gloomy energies, which she did not wish to approach too closely. However, there was something, abandoned under a tree near the property, which attracted her with strong force.

The body of a raven. A raven different from the others, a dream. Jessamy. Someone had shot her and she lay there, lifeless, far from her creator, far from her home.

Y/N took the poor thing with her. Necromancy being prohibited, it was not good to anger Death, and the existence of dreams being a complex thing, she did the only thing in her power, to offer a decent burial to the little emissary whom she had loved very much and who had often helped her control Morpheus' moods.

When collective sleep returned to normal, there were no signs. Nothing that made it possible to understand what had happened. Curious by nature, the witch repeated to herself that she should not try to understand. The rumors would spread quickly.

She heard about Burgess. Whispers recounted the long confinement of the maker of nightmares, who had taken revenge before setting off in search of his stolen instruments in order to rebuild his kingdom. Twice he went to the Underworld, he faced a Vortex, he fell in love. Nothing really new, just the same story over and over again.

Y/N didn’t want to know any of this, but the choice wasn’t hers. One of her sisters came to visit without being invited, and to ask her advice.

“I don’t see how I can help you, big sister.”

"You have experienced what I am experiencing. Tell me how to escape from Oneiros, because I no longer wish to see him and he does not seem ready to accept it."

The rumors had not mentioned the fact that Morpheus had fallen in love with a witch again. Older than Y/N, more powerful, crueler too, because Thessaly had little interest in things of the heart.

" … I repeat, I'm not sure I can help you. Make sure you don't inspire him with any more feelings and you'll be free." "Sweet little sister, he still loves you and yet he left you alone. I'm asking for this."

"He doesn't love me. He didn't love me for a long time when I left."

"We argued often and each time my wing of the castle was razed and then rebuilt under his orders. There is no trace of his former companions left in all of the Dreaming. None, except you. He did not touch your room. He denied me access to it. He recreated it with everything else after his return. Can you tell me that doesn't mean anything ?"

Y/N didn’t respond. She didn't know what to answer, she didn't know about all this. Her eldest whispered that she was almost jealous. Many times she had wondered if she had gotten his attention because of their similarities, because she reminded him of his lost love.

It might be a good idea for her younger sister to discuss it with the Lord of Dreams.

"Or not. That would allow me to slip away without him probably noticing, but I can't wish harm on one of ours. I'll find a way."

This time, Y/N closed herself off to the whispers, not wanting to know if Thessaly had found this way.

Part of her wished the best for the lord of stories, who had suffered far too much in the last century despite all his wrongs, and who did not deserve to receive another injury. Another part didn't like knowing the older witch was with Dream.

She was afraid for her sister, and she was afraid for Morpheus, whose fickle heart was more fragile than he wanted to admit. The consequences were likely to be terrible for everyone.

Filled with memories, Y/N wanted to visit Jessamy’s grave. A powerful spell had hidden it from the eyes of the world, to prevent it from being desecrated, and she wondered if she had not made a mistake in doing so, for it was possible that Morpheus had never known where his faithful emissary rested.

But the magic of ravens was special, these beings knew things, and she shouldn't have been surprised to find one of them on the tree that protected the location.

"Good morning." she said politely, making new flowers appear near the grave.

"Hi. Do we know each other ? I feel like I know you."

"I don't think we've ever met. You're Dream's new raven."

"Yeah, Matthew. I don't know why I'm here. I'm sort of drawn to it, and Lucienne told me to follow my instincts for this sort of thing, but I don't understand. Are you the one calling me ?"

“I think it’s more your predecessor thzt you are feeling.”

"Jessamy ? Oh… The boss thought her body was destroyed or something. Were you the one who buried her ? That's nice of you. You don't look really surprised to see a talking raven. I feel like I'm supposed to know you. You seem important."

"Not really, no."

"The boss could tell me but he's busy at the moment. He's accompanying his sister on a quest. Good, it's keeping him busy. It's been raining too much since his break up, it's been days. Merv told me that it was almost always like that, frankly it's painful to watch. The time with this Nada, the time with his ex-wife, the time with another witch… I don't know what he has with witches. I didn't like her at all, she was mean."

“It rained in the Dreaming when I left ?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask, surprised by the news.

Before that day, she had always believed that her departure had had no impact. A total, cold indifference, showing that she no longer mattered. But Thessaly had talked about her room, and Matthew had talked about the rain, and Y/N didn't know what to think at all now.

She had left Morpheus because of his inability to communicate, the distance he put between himself and the whole world. His grand declarations of love always seemed hollow, lacking something.

Maybe he had changed. He would never have allowed his emissary to speak as Matthew did, who was moving around on his tree asking a thousand questions about the relationship between his boss and Y/N. He even allowed himself to order her to leave, because he really didn't need Dream falling into depression again by seeing her through his eyes.

"He's got enough problems, he… Oh. Oh, no. I feel it, he's there. Shit, shit, shit. I have to go !"

Years without any news and within moments Y/N hearing about her former lover almost every day. Until someone came to her door and she found herself face to face with Morpheus.

He seemed embarrassed. He had always been awkward in the waking world, out of place, because dreams hardly survived in reality. But there was something else. He would never have bothered to knock before. He would have come into her house to say what he had to say, demanding that she listen to him, and agree with him at the end.

Without saying anything, he observed her as if he were seeing her for the first time, turning his gaze towards her bedroom, the door of which was surrounded by several symbols used to repel dreams and nightmares. Y/N expected this to make him angry. He had already not liked her touching his domain when they first met.

"I thought you followed my sister into the sunless lands…" he whispered, looking down. "I no longer felt your presence in the Dreaming. I didn't think you were running away from me. It didn't seem to me that I gave you reasons to run away."

“I wasn’t sure you’d be happy to see me again.”

"I have waited a long time for the day when I would have the joy of seeing your sweet face again. It never came, but I am the one responsible for it. You were right about Hob Gadling, You were right about many things but I didn't listen, and I lost you. It was one of my greatest regrets."

“Why are you talking like that ?” Y/N asked as she approached, their hands almost touching.

"Mikri magissa, so much has happened. I am at a crossroads, with a big decision to make. I admit to being afraid, and you give me courage."

“Maybe I can help you ?”

"Even if you could, I wouldn't ask you. The search for my little sister is dangerous, a lot of blood has been shed since we left in search of our brother and I couldn't bear to see it happen to you. I had agreed to help her to see someone again, without understanding that it was you I secretly wanted to see, and now I must find a way to console my sister, disappointed by my lack of investment. But the only way we have left is one that I dare not name."

Y/N had briefly met Morpheus' family, including Destruction and Delirium.

The prodigal had spoken to her little before his retirement, but he had seemed tired, reaching the limits of his functions and no longer seeing the point of remaining with all the inventions of mortals and immortals which fulfilled his role perfectly without he needs to intervene. His siblings did not understand his decision.

One of the most affected by his departure had been Delirum, very close to his brother, who would have given anything for a family reunion.

"If this means your downfall, I can't believe Delirium would ask such a thing of you." Y/N said indignantly, not daring to come any closer. “There must be something else.”

"I don't think my younger sister is aware of what she's asking of me, nor do I think it's possible for me to go any other way without putting someone else in danger. I just came to see you, and thank you for what you did for Jessamy, and for the dreamers during my absence. I hadn't seen all these acts of kindness. But maybe it's you who didn't want to see me again. Not with my behavior. Oh, mágos mou… I so wanted to be better for you, but I could only change by going through all these trials, and for that I had to lose you."

It felt like goodbye, and Y/N didn’t like it. By definition, the Endless had no end, at least not while there was life in the universe. Without thinking, she placed her hand on Dream's cheek. He usually hated it, being touched, especially without permission, but he closed his eyes with a happy sigh, pressing his skin against hers.

Asking him if he was okay seemed stupid, but the question left her lips, and when his eyes opened again, they had a strange glow. He muttered that no one had asked him that question since his release. It was almost years ago. In truth, no one had asked him that question, even before he was captured.

Like he said, it could be because he had changed, and he didn't really deserve to be asked if he was okay before. And now that he was making an effort, that he was understanding, that he was improving, it was too late.

"I'll find a way. I'll talk to your sister."

“Delirium has always loved you.” he sighed. "My whole family, I think. I never noticed that our relationship is the only one that Desire hasn't tried to sabotage. But maybe they knew that I would sabotage it on my own."

“Let me talk to her.”

Much to Morpheus' surprise, his younger sister listened to Y/N. She even seemed to become Delight again for a moment, as the witch promised to find Destruction, even if it would take time. She just had to be patient, but also accept that it was possible that their brother didn't want to be found.

It was his decision to leave, as it was her decision to change, and Dream's decision to stay the same. But if she asked him to continue their quest, horrible things could happen, and she might lose another member of her family.

"… Okay. But you promise to look ?"

“I swear on our mother’s first ledger.”

"Several people have died trying to help us, Delirium… It's not safe to…"

"Oh, shut up. You'll be with her to protect her, you didn't care about the others. You're probably happy that Y/N came back. I'm happy too, she's nice, you two were good together. If you find our brother, then everything will be perfect."

Several spells, formulas and sacrifices were necessary to find the trail of the Prodigal, or Destruction took pity on them by inviting them to join him, but they talked, and as Y/N had predicted, he did not wish to return, but he entrusted them with a dog to give to his little sister.

Before disappearing between the stars, he took his big brother by the hand, walking together near the cliff, and whispering something to him.

"What did he say ?" Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

"He told me not to make the same mistakes and to think about myself for once. Not about my position, not about my kingdom, about nothing but me, and about you. O mágos mou, it's been a long time, but if you…"

The kiss cut him off in the middle of his question, time seemed to stop, and it was as if they had never left each other.

#sandman #the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus x reader

87 notes · View notes

lexsssu · 8 months

Text

Enamored (Ren Hakuryuu)

TAGS: Hakuryuu/Lucifiel!Reader, smut, breeding, impregnation, parenthood, some plot Ao3 ver.

Iɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ ғɪɴᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏᴡ ᴏғ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴛᴛᴇʀʟʏ ɪʀʀᴇsɪsᴛɪʙʟᴇ.

“ ...will only have one wife in this lifetime… ”

Ren Hakuryuu still remembers that day as clearly as if it happened only yesterday. Sunshine bathed the temple’s gardens as a soft breeze rustled the verdant leaves of the trees.

But of course, none of the colorful blooms could ever compare to your beauty even as they surrounded you. If anything, they made you look like a celestial flower fairy who’d come down from the heavens to grace them with your presence.

Although some found issues with the silvery-pearlescent scales that traveled down your cheeks and below your neckline, Hakuryuu found them utterly gorgeous. Just like how you’d caress the scar upon his face with such warmth and softness, he can’t help but do the same to you.

But his favorite has to be when he’s lucky enough to bring a splash of color to your cheeks via compliments or his more preferred method…

“...Are you willing to become my empress?”

The way your blush only highlights the color of your scales has him mesmerized even as he was balls-deep inside your tight pussy. Despite having dumped several loads of cum within you already, the emperor finds himself too enamored to even stop any time soon.

Although it was expected for the empire’s rulers to produce heirs for their nation, there is so much more to this act than the need to conceive an heir. For a man like Hakuryuu who’d faced so many tragedies throughout his life, the chance to finally create something good rather than destroy is something that his battered heart had always yearned for.

And to be able to fulfill that wish with you?

Dazzling, beautiful, kind, and magnificent you.

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

When your newborn son opens his eyes for the very first time to reveal two different colors, Hakuryuu feels pride swell up within himself, because he is absolutely perfect .

Simply because he is your child.

“Thank you…”

He presses a kiss to your temple and watches as you fed the baby, enraptured at the most wonderful sight he never thought he’d be lucky enough to witness.

#lexsssu writes #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi hakuryuu #ren hakuryuu x reader #magi x reader #hakuryuu ren x reader

187 notes · View notes

ancientcraftnoccultism · 1 year

Text

🌿 Herb Of The Day

Title: Lilac

Gender: Feminine

Element: Water

Planet: Venus

📜 Folklore & History 📜

Lilacs are an old, old, species that originated in Persia and then traveled to Europe. They were brought to America in 1750 and then planted at New Jersey Governor Wentworth’s home. Other prominent men fell in love with lilacs. They were reportedly one of Thomas Jefferson’s favorite flowers, and he documented his lilac-planting-methods in 1767. George Washington followed suit and moved existing lilacs on his property to his garden in 1785.

In Greek mythology, Pan, the god of the wild, chased a nymph named Syringa. She turned herself into a lilac bush to escape Pan, and in anger, he broke off the reed-like branches which made pipes. With regret, he tried kissing the broken branches, and as his air pushed over them, sounds were made. Lilacs were responsible for the creation of “Panpipes.”

Russian folklore believed that hanging lilacs above a baby’s bed would bring the child wisdom.

American folklore thought that lilacs could drive away evil and that placing them in a haunted house would displace ghosts. Thought to be symbolic of “old love,” Victorian widows often wore lilacs as a sign of remembrance. One hundred and fifty-five years ago today, April 15th, Abraham Lincoln died after being shot by John Wilkes Booth. Any American — and much of the world — knows the story of the self-educated, country lawyer who became one of our nation’s most beloved presidents. But what many Americans might not realize is how the death of Lincoln reverberated into so many areas of our collective psyche, including literature and horticulture, thanks to Walt Whitman. Walt Whitman was a reporter, printer, writer, traveler and Civil War nurse who is considered one of America’s greatest poets. He self-published Leaves of Grass and worked on it throughout his lifetime, eventually modifying it so that there are eight different editions. Whitman felt a great affinity with President Abraham Lincoln, and when Lincoln was assassinated in the spring of 1865, Whitman grieved.

He wrote years later in Specimen Days about learning of the President’s death:

"I remember where I was stopping at the time, the season being advanced, there were many lilacs in full bloom. By one of those caprices that enter and give tinge to events without being at all a part of them, I find myself always reminded of great tragedy of that day by the sight and odor of these blossoms. It never fails."

While lilacs are first to bloom, their flowers are short-lived. The heady fragrance lingers sweetly at first, but then the blooms start to die, leaving a heavy, cloying smell. One of the first flowers of spring, lilacs contain a natural compound called indole that’s found in flowers — and feces. It’s that undercurrent of the “bottom note” of fragrance that suggests decay and death.

🔮 Metaphysical Properties 🔮

The beautiful May-blooming lilac is one of the loveliest tokens of spring. But they are much more than beautiful shrubs with showy, sweet-smelling flowers. Originally lilacs were planted to repel all evil. Planted near the entryway, lilacs were believed to send out protective vibrations. When the flowers are cut and brought into the home they cleanse any living space. And they'll also remove any unwanted spiritual presence. Blue and white varieties work well for this purpose. Since lilacs are ruled by Venus, they are also used in love spells. Try placing some pink lilacs on your altar while performing a love spell. The dried flowers make a powerful addition to any love sachet.

🍴⚕️ Culinary & Medicinal Properties

The simplest way to enjoy lilacs is as an infusion of the flowers for a lilac sugar. The sugar can then be used in recipes to add lilac flavor to baked goods. This also works with a lilac simple syrup which is just a liquid form of the same thing that’s perfect for making cocktails. For my money though, I think lilac infused honey sounds the best. The sweet floral flavor of lilacs translates beautifully into an ice cream base.

To prevent the recurrence of disease, lilac flowers were used to help strengthen the system and prevent relapse after a patient had healed. They’re said to be specifically good after cases of malaria. Tasting the raw flowers you can actually pick up some of the astringent qualities, as they make your mouth dry and pucker a bit (along with their floral flavors). This astringent quality makes them good for use in skin care products. Lilacs are used as a folk remedy for intestinal worms, as well as a treatment for gastric discomfort and gas. Regardless of the purpose, the most likely medicinal lilac preparation is a tincture, which is just a lilac infused alcohol

#elder witch #baby witch #beginner witch #dark witchcraft #herbalism #herbology #herbs #whimsigoth #witch aesthetic #witch herbs #divination #spirituality #spiritual #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #witch tip

470 notes · View notes

saneijeijei · 5 months

Text

Little Princess

"My name is Evelyn Eckhart. I am the Duchess and wife of the current Duke Eckhart. You saved my daughter from a terrible tragedy. I would like to thank you for your fearlessness and selflessness, which many people can only envy. Would you like to be my adopted daughter?"

"No."

[1/2]

Evelyn was slowly dying due to illness. After the birth of Yvonne, her body was greatly weakened and an ordinary cold turned into a serious unknown disease. The woman gradually faded away in front of her loved ones every day she got worse. The duke invited the best doctors, but they just sadly threw up their hands, condoling with the duke.

The end was near and Evelyn felt it. She asked her husband about one thing - to get a magic flower for her, which allegedly fulfilled a wish. It was an urban legend that lured tourists and foreigners to numerous fairs. But hope is the last thing the Duchess had before she left this world.

When Leopold brought her a flower, Evelyn, before going to bed, pressed the flower to her chest and made a wish: "may my children be all right, please let me see their future before I leave…"

When she fell asleep, she saw the future of each of her children. Her heart was broken by the horrors and the imminent tragedy that had humiliated her family, leaving only distant memories of the warmth with which the house was overflowing.

"No! Please! This can't happen! My boys! My little baby!.."

But it was only a cry into a tiny void that gradually swallowed her up.

"Evelyn?" The Duchess twitched, feeling the warmth on her shoulder. Opening her eyes wide, she was horrified to recognize her excited husband, and behind him her favorite flowers. "Are you okay? You fell asleep in the garden, I was worried that you might catch a cold."

The woman looked around dumbfounded and realized that she really was in her favorite garden in a glass greenhouse. Even more surprisingly, she felt a heaviness in her stomach and looked down and saw a bulging belly. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat and she squeezed her husband's palm, finally able to exhale.

"It was a dream…" she whispered softly. "Just a dream.."

"What are you talking about?" The duke sat down on one knee and tried to look into the eyes of his wife, who studiously avoided eye contact. "Has something happened? You're pale"

"I had a nightmare… A very terrible nightmare…" Evelyn replied. "But it's okay now, I'm finally awake."

The Duchess studiously avoided the terrible memories of the past, brushing them off as if it was just a game of her imagination. But then, the events that took place in that very "dream" began to happen. She couldn't have predicted them or known them. Evelyn began to realize that what she saw was not a dream at all, but a future that could happen if she didn't try to do something.

Reynold was small and didn't understand much, muttering something funny under his breath. Derrick, watching his mother's torment, was clearly worried. Evelyn hugged him, stroking his hair and whispering kind words. She wanted to comfort that Derrick, who had lost his mother and sister, who was not ready for all those events, who could not express his own emotions and was so confused in himself that he could hardly understand what he wanted. Her boy did not understand such great attention of mother to himself, but he did not refuse, accepting every word, listening to every praise.

Avoiding points and tea parties, Evelyn continued to look for solutions and ways to save her family from tragedy. She began to be interested in magic and magical items. She wanted to know more about Layla's monstrous power, which had taken Yvonne away from her in the past.

And of course… Penelope. Her image is a rude and audacious image etched into her memory. Evelyn didn't know what to do, rushing from one extreme to the other, when suddenly, realization finally came.

She could not find Penelope's mother and help her, since she did not know her name or place where she lived. The knights sent did not find anyone like the girl either in the capital or in the slums. Even if she wanted to help prevent the tragic death of Penelope's mother, everything was unsuccessful.

She couldn't save everyone and to her deepest regret, she had to choose. Either her family, or the family of this unfortunate girl. And she chose. She chose to save her children, and not let a monster into the house.

Evelyn refused to make big purchases, spending most of the allocated funds on charity. Her conscience tormented her and she could not calm down, consoling herself only with the hope that at least one loaf of bread, which the servants distributed on her behalf, could go to Penelope's mother.

Soon, she gave birth to Yvonne. Her little pink-haired princess was just as beautiful as in the past. There was no limit to the Duchess's joy, as well as Leopold's. He arranged a holiday in honor of the birth of his daughter. Derrick was happy and often looked after Yvonne, as he did with Reynold, who agreed with his father's joyful mood.

A few months after giving birth, the long-awaited holiday came. The guests filled the duchy with congratulations and best wishes. Evelyn and Yvonne were the center of attention, accepting congratulations and gifts from guests. One of them turned out to be Vinter Verdandi.

His parents died when he was very young and Leopold looked after him, helping with the management of affairs, so that some arrogant relatives would not try to deprive the boy of his inheritance and all the huge property that the family had accumulated over many years.

The boy was like nephew, though not her own. He bowed and congratulated on the birth of daughter, handed over an expensive gift. Leopold, having listened attentively to him, came up, patted him on the shoulder, thanking him for such generosity and asked him to wait. He had to give him something, since he was here.

Evelyn smiled at her husband, when suddenly Winter came closer, showing that he wanted to whisper something.

"Madam, please do not accept a gift from Lady Lockridge. Please, as soon as she hands it to you, throw it away without opening the gift box". “What?.." the Duchess was surprised. "Vinter, dear, what do you mean?.." "Your great aunt recently visited a small kingdom with which we recently concluded a peace agreement, right? Recently, yonder was an epidemic, all the signs of the flu, but the medicine did not help and people were slowly dying. Please don't take anything that Lady Lockridge gives you. Perhaps it is poisoned by this infection."

Vinter's assistant started up and pushed the boy away from Evelyn. "I'm sorry, madam, my master was clearly over excited by attending public events, that he had a played out little imagination. Don't tell Lady Lockridge about this incident, please. He didn't say it out of malice."

Evelyn froze. Her great-aunt gave her a green dress in honor of her daughter's birth, which she wore several times to family dinners wanting to please her relatives. And it was shortly after that that she became ill.

"Thank you, Vinter, I will." "Madam!---" "Let's leave this conversation between us" smiling at the young Marquis, Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, she didn't attach any importance to Winter's words, really thinking that he was mistaken. She wanted to believe that the boy's guess was true and the reason for her illness lay in the dress that could bring the disease.

#death is the only ending for the villainess #death is the only ending for a villainess #vadd #villains are destined to die #ditoeftv #vadd fanfic #ditoeftv fanfic #duchess eckhart #duke eckart #duke eckhart #text #fanfic #au idea #au #yvonne eckart #derrick eckart

71 notes · View notes

holdupjack · 9 months

Text

The Captains Princess

——————

Part 2

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Pirate/Monarchy

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE/SEXUAL INNUENDOS

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

September 18th, 1655

Hermione Granger was part of a well-known and very respected royal family that looked after the island country that fell under Danish rule.

(A/N: I'm talking about Iceland btw, or Islandia if you want to be technical. If I read my history books correctly, which I probably didn't, then Iceland should have been under Danish rule at this point? I'm not sure, just go with it lol)

The island held a Volcano in the southwest, the land around it was now uninhabited, after a horrible tragedy ten years ago.

The mountain had suddenly come to life, spewing ash and molten rock onto the people below. Everyone at the edge of the city was able to evacuate at the time, but most were lost under the hardened rock or simply melted away.

Hermione was eleven at the time, and she remembered watching the smoke pouring over the mountains from her window.

Her mother had ushered her away, closing the window and cooping her up in the library for the entire week.

Yet, she saw what was happening at night.

The sky had gone dark, the lack of the sun and stars caused by ash as it was carried by the wind and into the main city. It covered everything like black paint, forcing everyone to cough and heave as they shoveled everything into wagons, sending it back into the outskirts of the destroyed town.

It took months, but eventually, Hermione was free to roam the city once more. Later did she learn how many of the people had died from the ash and eruption.

The number was staggering.

Now she is twenty-one, well almost, and the population had doubled in size since that day.

Her coronation was to be held tomorrow, on the day of her birth, and where she would take over the kingdom for her father and mother. It wasn't something she was excited about, but she knew it needed to be done.

In all honesty, she wanted to see the world.

She wished to explore the structures of Egypt and the booming colonies of America. Everything she had read in books and newspapers fueled her intrigue to extreme measures, but she had a job to do. Whether she wanted to do it or not.

Hermione now sat in the city garden, the smell of the Lupine flower filled her nose as royal guards stood close by.

Seagulls called over her as she heard the yelling of men and women near the docks, the shade of the Aspen Tree above her made it easier to read the newspaper in her hand.

'Virginia Blockaded By England After Declaring Allegiance To The House Of Stuart'

Hermione knew little about what went on around the world, but it still shocked her with the decisions people made.

"Come on Cap! Why did we even stop at this god-forsaken place?"

The Princess's eyes flickered up to find a group of three walking down the sidewalk nearby.

A woman around her age stood in the middle of them with a wide grin. Two tall men walked on either side of her, they seemed to be twins. One had long hair that was up in a ponytail, while the other kept it almost like a guard's military cut.

"I told you two, we need a new navigator since the last one died in the battle outside the British seas!" She replies as they made their way into one of the pubs. Hermione raised an eyebrow as the group disappeared into the building, the door shutting loudly behind them.

Her curiosity peaked, she wondered how this girl became a captain so young, and had so many questions about the lands outside of her own.

"Excuse me Princess, but we must get you back to the castle. Your mother wanted you to help pick out the last bit of details before your celebration tomorrow" A guard states as he had somehow snuck up beside her.

"Oh yes, let us be going" Hermione mumbled as she stood up and folded the newspaper under her arm. Her eyes stayed on the pub door a few moments longer before she ripped them away.

Yet, she thought back on the Captain.

Only had watched her for less than a minute, but now she seemed to hold her curiosity by the neck.

Maybe she would see her tomorrow?

It was an 'everyone invited' event after all.

——————

September 19th

Hermione sat on her father's throne, wearing a beautiful pure white dress that had originally been her grandmother's coronation dress. The Royal Tailor had taken in it for Hermione to update it to the current times of fashion.

She felt like she was getting married.

Well, she supposed she was in a sense? She was vowing her time, love, and dedication to her country.

The main hall was filled shoulder to shoulder with everyone around the land. Children, adults, and elderly alike all talked amongst each other as servers passed out food and drink.

The coronation wasn't till later in the night when they would crown her at exactly twelve, so she may begin her reign as queen immediately.

Hermione looked down at her lap and sighed softly, she felt as though her life was slipping through her fingers.

A soft whistle cut through the crowd.

She looked back at the party, no one else noticed the call for her acknowledgment, but it wasn't hard to find the whistler.

The Captain from the day before stood at the edge of the crowd, looking up at her with the same grin she wore in the street.

Instead of the normal attire that the women wore, she sported a nice white shirt and some black pants. Hermione could see the passing judgment people gave her as they walked by.

The future Queen raised an eyebrow, to which the Captain nodded her head over to the open balcony near them.

Hermione gave a small smile in return as the Captain disappeared back into the crowd. The royal stood up to follow after, but her mother walked up to her with a puzzled look on her face.

"Who were you eyeing in the crowd? A future husband?" She asks with a slight tease in her voice as Hermione chuckled at the question.

"A new friend, maybe" Hermione replies as she started to make her way into the crowd, her mother raises a brow at her retreating form.

"Getting some air?" She calls after, but Hermione was already too far by the time she did.

The music from the small string band seemed louder on the main floor as people greeted and smiled at her.

As she got to the doorway of the balcony, a guard stopped her with his arm.

"Do you know the woman that is standing out there?" He asks, as she peered out into the night, she could see the back of the Captain's head.

"Yes, and I would like to talk to them in private if you don't mind?" She replies to which he drops his arm and nodded.

He quickly opened the door for her and closed it as soon as she stepped out into the cold air.

"It's nice to finally meet you Queen Granger" the woman speaks as she turned around and smiled again.

"I'm not Queen yet, and please, call me Hermione" she replies as she stepped to the edge of the balcony and looked over the almost vacant city.

"Greetings then Hermione, my name is Captain Y/n Y/l/n. At your service, of course." the woman greets as she held out her hand for her.

Why did that name sound familiar?

Hermione watched her with a playful intrigued stare as she let her hand be taken and kissed upon by the sailor.

"What may I do for you, Captain?" Hermione asks as she felt goosebumps raise from the skin the women had pecked.

The Captain smiled again as she watched the Princess stand at the parapet with her.

(A/N: a parapet is a wall-like structure around a balcony or terrace, saved you guys a Google search.)

"Well, a little birdie told me that you're a prodigy at navigating and that you have helped map out this entire country with your expeditions," Y/n says and Hermione chuckled.

It was true, when she wasn't forced to be cooped up in the castle, Hermione was out mapping and exploring the country. She had journals upon journals in her room filled with sketches of plants, animals, and landmarks.

As you could guess, she had learned from the guardsmen how to use the stars when a compass would fail them in their endeavors

(A/N: btw, didn't know that compasses were invented so early. The first one ever recorded was in 1190. Omg we're learning so many things in this imagine, I love it.)

Her parents were always so worried about killers and thieves when she would plan a trip, but it wasn't like she wasn't being sent out with a small army with her.

"Yes, may I ask why you wanted to know?" Hermione questioned as she stared up at the beautiful night sky. Millions of stars poked through an inky abyss.

"I'll reveal that later on, but before I do, it seems you have questions to ask me" Y/n replied as she smirked at the beautiful royal.

Hermione hummed and thought for a moment, she had many questions, so she had to play her cards right.

"Are you part of a fleet? Or are you a...freelance type of Captain?" the Princess asks discreetly as she heard one of the Guards talking behind the glass door.

"Let's just say I have more fun without a boss around" Y/n replies as Hermione chuckled.

Great, she was talking to a Pirate.

"I'm surprised you haven't recognized me, I've been in the paper recently" the Captain states, causing Hermione to turn to get a better look at her.

Y/n poses as it clicks in Hermione's mind, no wonder her name sounded familiar.

"Wait, are you that Captain that stole almost half of the treasury of Venice?" she replies as Y/n began to snicker quietly as the Princess stared at her in disbelief.

"Ah don't look at me like that! We gave almost all of it back to the people!" Y/n says as she continued to grin at her, to which Hermione just chuckled in astonishment.

"Have you come to steal our treasury then? Distract me while your friends pillage us dry?" she asks with honest questioning, which caused Y/n to laugh softly at her conclusion.

"That's a smart idea, I might have to try it sometime, but no. We didn't come to steal any money from you." she replied as she turned her body toward the Princess, who didn't even look concerned at the fact that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with an enemy of many cities

"Then why did you come here?" Hermione asks as she turned herself towards her mysterious company.

Y/n's eyes travel down her body slowly, the royal felt hot for some reason, it wasn't foreign to Hermione to feel men undressing her with their eyes.

Maybe because it was a woman this time around that she felt...different.

Yet, it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling.

"My crew and I came here looking for the best navigator in this country since we're on a hit list in the other ones," Y/n says as she gazed back up into Hermione sight. The Captain's intrigue in her past time now made a lot more sense.

"Before you even ask, the answer is 'no'." Hermione states as Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Aw come on Princess, I've been watching you at this party all night, and you have been miserable!" Y/n sighs, which sort of reminded Hermione of an annoyed child trying to prove their point.

"I've made a promise to my country-"

"Not yet"

"-and my parents! I'm not going to run off with some pirate Captain that thinks of herself as a modern-day Robin Hood!" Hermione whispers with her own annoyance laced in her words.

"Who said you have to take over anyways?" Y/n asks as she stepped closer, forcing Hermione to take in the sea salt aroma she carried on her skin, which wasn't a surprise.

"No one said! I'm just doing my due diligence to my family-" she was cut off again by the captain's eye roll.

"You know what? Why am I even arguing with you? The answer is 'no'." Hermione whisper yells as she turned on her heel and went to step back into the party.

"When was the last time you did something for yourself?"

This made the Princess pause and turn back around. Her mouth fell slightly at the question that was just asked to her. She has never been talked to like this, and it ticked her off to see that Captain's face was still grinning.

"Excuse me?" She laughs out in disbelief as Y/n jumped up onto the wall around the balcony, and sat down.

"It's a fair question, you seem like you've had all the fun sucked out of you since you were little" Y/n hums as Hermione slightly tripped up on her dress, but walked up to her nonetheless.

"All have you know, I am very fun" she protests with a pointed finger as Y/n just playful smiled at her, trying to keep the conversation going between them.

Why was Hermione even trying to defend her personality from some grinning criminal pirate?

"Also, stop smiling!" She whispers as Y/n looked her over again, letting her lips fall from her toothy grin to a subtle rise of the corners of her mouth.

"I'm sorry Princess, I just find you very pretty" she admits, which caused Hermione to be struck dumbfounded.

Who just admits that after asking a Princess to join their gang of murderous pirates?

"Well, uh, thank you," Hermione says as she cleared her throat, and smoothed down the front of the dress. Her embarrassment from her outburst started to set in, she never got this upset with anyone, and she has sat down with political parties.

"But flattery won't get you anywhere" she states as Y/n picked at a loose string on her pant leg.

"Listen, my ship is docked at the east bay. I'll have one of my men holding a lantern on deck during his patrols, in case you want to visit me before your crowning." Y/n says as she jumped back into the floor and dusted off her pants, pulling out a pocket watch.

"You have two hours before you get crowned and we head off to some new land that people are calling the 'West Indies'. A friend of mine was even able to send us a map of its location, we'll get there with or without you." Y/n states as Hermione's interest seemed to skyrocket again.

"You said that you needed a navigator? Won't you get lost?" She replies as Y/n stuffs the device back in her pocket.

"I'm not just a ruthless Robin Hood Captain with a small army of society rejects, but I'm also a decent enough Wayfinder!" Y/n hums as she went to step towards the door, back into the party. Hermione quickly stopped her with a hand to the Captain's chest, she burned her eyes into Y/n's.

"You'll be lost within a day" Hermione states as Y/n leaned closer, causing their noses to bump slightly.

"Maybe, or we'll be right as rain" she replies as they stared at one another with glares that held different meanings. It's quiet between them as the people in the hall began to sing a drinking song.

"Too bad you'll be marrying yourself off to some child-like man" Y/n mumbled as she let her harden gaze drop, Hermione furrowed her brows at the statement.

A questionable time to bring that up.

"Why do you say that? Do you think you could do better?" She asks with a scoff as the Captain took her arm and began to move them to a secluded corner.

"Much better" Y/n whispers as they hide from any prying eyes in the main hall. Hermione hummed as the woman stepped even closer, their heads tilted to the side as their lips ghosted one another's.

"You say that, but you probably have a different girl in your quarters every night," the Princess says as her hands grasped Y/n's hips in an attempt to steady herself.

Hermione started to question her own intentions at this moment, trying to figure out how their argument turned so scandalous in a matter of seconds.

"I haven't been to bed with another in many voyages, but when I saw you in that garden yesterday, I knew that needed to change," Y/n admits as her body pinned Hermione to the wall behind her.

"You saw me?" Hermione asks as the sailor hummed and pressed a kiss to the corner of the royal's lips.

"My crew thinks I'm just asking you to be our navigator, but I have had my own intentions from the start," Y/n says as she left a trail of kisses down to Hermione's neck.

She should push her away, Hermione knew better than to let a random criminal kiss and nip on her skin like this, but in all honesty...she was enjoying this Captain's touch more than she would like to admit.

"Come sail by my side, be my Princess" Y/n whispers into her ear, sending a shiver down Hermione's back as goosebumps rose onto her arms and her hands gripped the woman's hips.

"I don't know you, or your intentions" Hermione replies as Y/n kissed her jaw, but she ultimately hummed in agreement.

"That's true, you don't know anything about me" she states as she backed away to look at the flushed girl, who looks as if she had dipped her face in red paint.

"But, we have a little bit of time before your crowning, so what would you like to know?" Y/n asks as she stepped away and jumped back to sit on the balcony again.

They could now be seen again by any snooping partygoers and patrolling guards.

Hermione stood up straight as she pushed down the wrinkles on her dress, and brushed away any lint or dirt she saw.

"You!...you should know better than to push yourself onto a Princess!" She whispers as Y/n's grin made its reappearance, almost teasing her to come closer and make it disappear.

Whether from a slap or a kiss, Hermione wasn't certain.

"You could have pushed me away" Y/n replies, making the young Granger pause and try to come up with a valid excuse.

"You caught me off guard"

"Mhm"

Y/n began to quietly snicker as Hermione just huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. She was making herself out to be a stupid bratty princess, and she was not.

"You know that asking someone you find pretty to join your crew and leave her country behind, isn't a very good way to ask them on a date" Hermione chuckles as she started to relax slightly, now finding her smile less irritating as time went on.

"I've never asked a woman on a date before, I use to only pay for their company when I was younger," Y/n says as she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her dangling feet.

Hermione noted the embarrassed behavior she exhibited, almost like she was insecure that she had to pay for a woman in her bed at night.

"I understand when it comes to society on land, with their prejudices about two women being together." Hermione starts as she thought back on the people who had been run out of their city because of silly ideals.

"Yet, I thought Pirates didn't care? As long as they got their drinks, money, and partners out of it." She asks as she heard a clank of beer mugs and cheers from men inside.

"Of course, they don't care, it's just hard to date another sailing woman, especially if they are part of another ship" Y/n answers with a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You must have girls on your own crew then?" Hermione questioned as she took a step closer. Y/n look back at her with a laugh and shook her head in quick succession.

"They're like my sisters!" Y/n states, which made Hermione chuckle as well. She guessed that made sense since probably being on a ship for months on end would bring them all closer as a family more than anything,

"Also, all of my crew has lads or lasses back home waiting for them to return" Y/n continues as she laid down on the parapet, one leg swung over the edge while her other foot was planted on the stone, and her knee pointed to the sky,

"Be careful, we're high up" Hermione stated as she stepped closer, her fingers twitched as she stopped herself from grabbing ahold of the girl.

They were just one story up, but it was still high enough to break something.

"I've fallen from the crow's nest of my ship, multiple times! This is nothing." Y/n chuckles as she locked her fingers and puts them behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

"I'm guessing you drank one too many pints?" Hermione asks as her eyes scanned the Captain's body.

"See? You're getting to know me so well already!" Y/n replies as they chuckled together.

"Did you land in the water each time? Or have you somehow not died from that yet?" The Princess asks as her hand finally grasped the hem of her shirt.

"Almost all were in the water, but last time I hurt myself real bad" Y/n replies as one hand snuck out from under her head and hooked a finger around the fabric between Hermione's breasts, pulling her closer again.

They weren't hiding anymore, this was a dangerous position to be in, but maybe that was the point.

Was Y/n trying to get her shunned from the castle for engaging in scandalous behavior with another woman?

A fucked up way to force her to join her crew?

Hermione suddenly backed away and cleared her throat, pushing down her wrinkles again.

"As entertaining as this conversation has been, I must go back to my party" she sighs as her chin went back to being high and mighty, and her back as straight as a wooden beam.

"Do you have to?" Y/n asks as she sat back up, causing Hermione to smile. Her childlike questions were almost begging, like she truly didn't want Hermione to walk away.

"I must, it is my birthday party after all" she replies and Y/n hums as she thought of an excuse for her to stay just a little bit longer.

"Just answer one more question," Y/n asks to which Hermione raised her eyebrow in return as the Captain stood back in front of her.

"Will I see you tonight?"

They stared at one another for a few moments, the air around them was chilly, but a slight heat seem to burn between them.

Hermione then just walked away.

That told Y/n that it wasn't a 'no', but it wasn't a 'yes' either.

She wondered what went through that beauty's mind, and if she knew that she had easily gotten a stoic sailor on her toes.

——————

When Y/n had arrived back at the port with no one in tow, Ginny gave a loud sigh from the deck of 'The Morrigan'.

"Captain on deck!" Ron yells near the bow of the ship.

"Is she-" she starts but the Captain quickly raised her hand in a 'stop' gesture and grabbed the lantern that hung near the entrance of her quarters.

"She still has an hour until her crowning, which I told her we will leave at exactly then also," Y/n says as she handed Ginny the lantern, and smiled at her irritated expression.

"What does that even mean?" the ginger replies as the sounds of her twin brothers echo from the crow's nest.

"Look at that whale Freddie! Looks like your ex-girlfriend!"

It was funny to think that half her crew was just the entire Weasley family.

"Just keep this lantern lit as you do your patrols around the deck" Y/n states as she patted the girl's shoulder and disappeared into her quarters.

As the door shut behind her, a soft groan came from her lips as she grabbed her hat from the hook on the wall.

Placing it on her head, she took a seat at her desk and began looking at the new inventory report.

Molly has requested more fruit cabbage for her kitchen, while Draco has asked for a new pair of boots. Harry needs new glasses, and Blaise needs to go to the blacksmith and sharpen his swords.

Y/n felt a headache begin to form as she tried to figure out a way to get everyone these things. This kingdom had almost everything, but she would have to dig through the old navigator's journal entries to find out where they got Harry's glasses the last time he broke them.

She needed help, and she didn't know how to ask for it without looking vulnerable in front of her crew. Y/n was only one person, and she needed someone as sophisticated as Hermione.

Granted, Y/n still planned to make Hermione hers, but that would have to wait.

Minutes went by quicker than she had realized as she scanned through the reports of everything below deck. She eventually noticed that it was ten to twelve.

"Come on Hermione" Y/n whispers as she stood up and walked back onto the deck.

"Begin preparations for departure!" Y/n yells out as a chorus of 'Ayes' rung out around her.

Ginny still stood near the walkway with the lantern in hand as she stared out into the town, which seemed devoid of life if it wasn't for the castle that was lit up like a fireworks display.

"I don't think she's coming" Y/n whispers as Ginny just hummed.

"You've always been so quick to judge" she replied as her eyes flickered towards different corners of the streets that stood in front of her.

"Ready Captain!" Percy states from his post as he stood at the stern with his hand on his pistol.

Percy always seemed to know when trouble was headed their way, it was almost like a gut instinct for him to grab his weapon.

"There she is" Ginny chuckles as she tapped Y/n's chest with the back of her hand.

Y/n's head snapped to find Hermione bolting down the street towards them, she now wore pants and a shirt instead of the beautiful white dress she had been given earlier in the day.

The Captain quickly made her way to the walkway, but soon noticed that she wasn't just running to get to them in time. Y/n heard the yelling of guards and began to smile.

"Once she's on the ship, time to go!" Y/n called as Draco took ahold of the wheel, and barked orders at the boys on the deck.

Hermione caught the Captain's eyes as she dashed down the dock towards them, and smiled at her, to which Y/n broke out in a grin in response.

"Come on Princess! We don't have all night!" Y/n teased as she held out her hand for her to take across the board between land and ship.

As soon as their hands grasped one another's, Y/n yanked her on deck and let Ron and Harry quickly pull the wood onto the ship as well.

"Full sails! Get us out of here!" Y/n yelled as the woosh of the sails fell and took in the wind of the sea.

Tens of hundreds of footsteps pounded on the dock as they pulled away, one guard had managed to jump and grab the side of the ship, but Pansy was able to just lean over and wack away his hands with the butt of her sword.

He didn't fall into the water at first, but her threat was able to make him choose his fate.

"Let go, or I'm chopping them off"

He quickly dropped into the cold unforgiving ocean.

Y/n darted towards the stern as The Morrgian began to take speed and drift off into the night.

She watched as hundreds of guards stood at the docks watching as their future queen ran off with one of the most hated pirates in the seven seas.

"I'll kill you Y/l/n!" A man yells from his place in the troops, from the crown on his head, she hadn't had to guess that he was King Granger.

"Well, that's one way to make a first impression on the crew!" Ginny snickers as she greeted Hermione on the deck.

"It would have been a lot calmer if my father hadn't caught me sneaking away" she replies as she put her back into a ponytail with a few hairpins she had left in her pockets.

"We'll have an introduction party tomorrow, right now Hermione and I need to begin setting a course for the West Indies" Y/n joked as she made her way back to the deck, Hermione stumbled slightly as the ship swayed side to side.

"Don't worry Princess, you'll get your sea legs eventually" the Captain snickers as she gestured to her quarters, and held out her hand for Hermione to take for stability.

As she took it, Blaise began to sing a chantey proudly, to which the crew joined in as well as they began their Mundane chores around the ship.

Y/n shut her door behind them, muffling the ruffians, as Hermione took in the beautiful books and maps that were scattered around.

"These are beautiful" Hermione whispers as she walked around the space with so much intrigue.

"I would hope so, since you'll be living in here" Y/n states as points to another desk that face the window that looks out into the sea behind the ship. A small bed lay next to it, almost looking untouched since its last owner as many books and papers were scattered around the space.

She could see her home fading away as they drifted away further.

"Wait, the Captain and Navigator share the same room?" Hermione asks as she turned back to find Y/n suddenly standing almost face to face with her.

"Of course, you're my right hand now" she mumbles as her eyes flickered around Hermione's face.

"If there wasn't already evidence of this cot being lived in, I would think you had done this on purpose" Hermione chuckles as Y/n brushed past her and took a seat at her desk.

"We could always push our cots together? Make this space very lived-in" Y/n suggests as Hermione stood in front of her, the only thing separating them was the desk of the captain.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" the former royal asks as she leaned down and restart her hands upon the wood.

"Certainly, I like to have my treasures close by me" Y/n whispers as she herself leaned closer, and like earlier in the night, they stared at one another intensely.

Hermione smirked and brushed her nose against hers in a teasing manner.

"You think of me as one of your treasures?" she replies in a hushed tone as she heard a soft shudder come from the sailor.

"Yes, I've caught myself a princess after all" Y/n mutters as Hermione pecked the corner of her mouth.

She was using her tricks.

"Did you? Or did I catch myself a Captain?"

Y/n's grin found a home on her lips once more for the night, before being wiped away with a kiss from Hermione.

The captain saw stars behind her eyes that were more beautiful than the ones in the sky.

The poor Captain tried to chase after another one as she backed away with a mischievous smile.

"As fun, as it is to fool around with you, we do have work to do" Hermione states as she walked towards her new desk, her hand squeezing Y/n's shoulder as she went by.

Hermione could feel eyes burning into the back of her head as she sat down and took a book from one of the piles.

"If you want more, you have to woo me, my Captain," she says as she whispers the last part in a sultry tone.

Even though her decision to betray her country was almost just for the fact to see the world, she also knew a part of her wanted to see how a flirty Captain would treat her during their months at sea.

She knew sooner or later she would allow herself to be taken into the Captain's arms and ravished behind closed doors.

Yet, she still wanted to be treated like a proper lady, and it was going to be fun to watch an urchin like Y/n try her best at it.

Hermione could only chuckle as she heard Y/n walk out to the deck and begin asking questions about dates to her crew, having left the door open slightly.

This is going to be fun.

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian

114 notes · View notes

mangacapsaicin · 9 months

Text

akihiro yamada’s tragedy of the garden of many flowers || 山田章博の『百花庭園の悲劇』

#akihiro yamada #山田章博 #tragedy of the garden of many flowers #full flower garden #hyakka teien no higeki #百花庭園の悲劇 #b&w #mangacap

59 notes · View notes

sylacris · 2 days

Text

— chrysanthemums.

elbert greetia x gn! reader

content: sfw ; angst ; character study ; mild(?) spoilers for william’s route ; victorian flower language ; self indulgent (screw plot)

(partially) inspired by: tonight you belong to me by patience and prudence

word count: ~754

a/n: first ikevil fic, trying to wrap my head around the characters …

Of course Elbert knows you belong to Will.

After all, you were the most beautiful when you're with him. He's seen the image many times throughout your stay in the castle. The way you light up when William enters the room, the lift in your voice when speaking to him, the love in your eyes when William is reflected on it.

The way that William is the reason for your beauty.

If the gods pried into his brain and search for the question he's asked the most—the question thought to himself in fitful nights of longing and early morning blues, something that even Elbert feels guilty of admitting through words— it would be:

Why?

Why you? Why William? Why not him-

That was the thing he has been trying to find the answer for ever since his own eyes landed on you that night. A robin caught in a gathering of villains, like a single white rose in a bush of red. He had almost wanted to pluck you and keep you to himself. Until William’s voice chimed in, recognizing you, and you, who shared the same sentiment.

A month passed by in a blur, it was easy for Elbert to get lost in time. But he would always remember the determination in your eyes in that meeting regarding the papers detailing the “crimes” of William Rex. Your eyes shone with a beauty brought out by the King himself.

You'd almost caught him marvelling at the sight of you.

He wanted to help, one way or another. However, the Crown could not move under the name of the Queen, or in large groups due to the risks in secrecy, so he asked Alfons to act in his stead.

“Your ability is suitable for infiltrating the enemy headquarters… May I trouble you to go with them?”

In the end, he's aware of why it was William you chose. It was a fact that he knew deep down in his heart, something he'd rarely acknowledge and yet will resurface everytime his mind wanders to the thought of you.

William Rex is everything that Elbert Greetia isn't.

And in that very fact alone lies Elbert’s own tragedy. One that'll slowly eat him up from the inside until there's nothing left but the remains of a monomanic yearning.

Not every beautiful thing could be his, Alfons would poke in the playful manner that he usually dons. But perhaps his words do hold weight in this situation.

It's alright, he can settle for watching from afar.

(No he can't. His curse could never allow it. He wants, he wants, he wants... And that was how his destiny wrote itself in tragedy.)

Elbert knows of the fact that he's awful at suppressing his tendencies. Hands that can't be kept to himself, always wandering to something he'd desire, it was usually a question of when he'll have it- rarely a question of if, up until now at least.

Those same hands that desired more, now held yours in a slow waltz.

"Al informed me that William went out on a mission... I was… quite surprised to find out that you did not come along with him."

"It's because it's quite late, and William insisted that I stay behind tonight."

step, step, step.

A dance across the garden, that was his invitation. Indulging in the opportunity that arose in William's absence. It was Elbert’s own way of satiating his want.

(though it will never be enough)

Some part of him feared that by interacting with you like this, he'd yet again desire for more. More than a longing stare across the dining table, more than a dance in the garden, more than just his hand in yours.

“How about you, Lord Elbert? You seem troubled these days.”

“...Ah, how so?”

And just as both of you reached the middle of the pavilion, you let go. The coldness setting on his hands faster than he'd like in the absence of your warmth.

And in the next breath, you'd take your leave- greeting the wistful earl a goodnight. Heels clicking as you step out of the pavilion and into the moonlight, until you were nothing but a distant figure, one he did not take his eyes off until you'd reach the confines of the castle, your silhouette disappearing from his sight

And once again, he stood alone in the garden pavilion.

The yellow chrysanthemums looked bitter under the moonlight, and he knows that those same flowers would never bloom in an azure hue.

#elbert greetia x reader #ikemen villains x reader #ikemen series #ikemen villains #elbert greetia #ikevil #ikevil elbert #cybird otome

34 notes · View notes

roguelov · 2 years

Text

Birds of a Feather

Summary: Dream of the Endless always had a raven. Before Matthew, it was Jessamay, but what of those before either of them? So, when Matthew asks, spurred by a recent discovery, old memories resurface. All of it about an impossible love story which ends in heartbreak.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: Angst, some fluff sprinkled in, hurt/no comfort, implied sexual content

Dream and his raven.

And although he never wished to speak it, ravens came and went much like a changing of seasons. A devastating tragedy, and a constant turmoil, that only he can bear alone. Each raven was unique, each one loved, and each one eventually, or will be, lost.

He buried all those painful heartaches. He didn’t dwell heavily on them, not when the Dreaming and the dreamers needed him.

Until, a new voice asked, stirring up old memories and a swirl of emotions.

“Boss? How many ravens were there before me?”

Dream, sat atop of his throne and book in hand, peered down at Matthew at the bottom of the stairs. Matthew’s beady eyes pleaded for answers, or hungrily sought out ones to satisfy his burning curiosity.

Dream, however, wavered. He didn’t want to say, but Matthew, in a way, had a right to know. He sighed, thumbing his book closed. “Far more than I care to say.”

“Rough estimate?” Matthew didn’t much care for Dream’s allusive, riddle like answer.

Dream’s lips thinned.

“Okay, okay,” Matthew hopped back realizing his mistake and dropped his head slightly, “sorry.”

Dream narrowed his eyes. He assumed it would be the last of it, or he wished it to be. So, he returned back to his book.

“Any favorites?”

Dream clapped his book shut and set it on the armrest of his throne. His brows furrowed together as he stared quizzically at the newest raven before him. “What has brought upon these questions?”

Matthew ruffled his feathers. “I - I don’t know, curious I guess.”

Dream smoothed out any tension in his brow. “I can assure you I have no favorites.”

Matthew grumbled.

“Is that not the answer you seek?”

“Well, no,” he muttered, sinking lower, “not exactly.”

“Then what? Do you wish to hear how I have adored others before you?”

There was a hint of amusement in the Endless’s voice, one that Matthew did not fully appreciate. He huffed and flew up, perching on the armrest. He cocked his head, peering his eyes at the pure embodiment of dreams and hopes.

Matthew supposed he would only get answers he wanted if he was more direct. “I was flying around the Dreaming and I saw a plaque -“

Dream tensed.

“ - it was in this garden, or forest, and said ‘Dedicated to -“

“Enough.”

Matthew shrunk.

Dream immediately regretted his tone. He sighed deeply, “Apologizes, Matthew, I did not mean to lash out.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I should be sorry, I just wanted to know. I didn’t know it was a sore spot.”

Dream watched as Matthew avoided his gaze.

“Care for them - all of them.”

“Come,” Dream said. He stood up and slowly began to walk down the steps. Matthew perked up and followed behind. “It was long before you, and even before your predecessor, Jessamay.”

“Like the first?”

He shook his head. “No, not the first. But, definitely unique in their own way.”

“Unique how?” Matthew circled above, completely enthralled by Dream’s unraveling tale.

“Like most ravens, they were mortal. A mortal who passed when I was in need of help. However, that one I knew as a mortal, long before they became my raven.”

“You knew them?”

“Yes, I did.”

As Dream stepped off the last step, the scenery melted away. The dark spacious throne room with its angular and grim architecture, blurred by like grains of sand blown by the wind forming Fiddler’s Green. A massive forest flourished with all kinds of life. But, hiddened in the corner - a clove - of Fiddler’s Green was a greenhouse; a greenhouse in the shape of a birdcage. It was fairly small, roughly the size of a shed. Yet, it was grandiose. Flowers and plants never seen in the Waking bloomed inside, each one dipped in impossible color combinations. On the outside, the metalwork was made of pure gold which sparkled like thousands of stars in the high sun. The glass surrounding was a colorful mosaic that moved and told a story: a mortal and an Endless meeting, falling in love, death and rebirth, more time spent together lasting lifetimes, and ended in one way it could, in heartbreak.

In front of the spectacular greenhouse, a bronze plaque rested. ‘Dedicated to (Y/N). More than a raven, and a friend; they were the light in the darkest of times.’

Matthew fluttered down. He hopped up to the plaque, reading it for the second time today, then looked up at Dream. “So how did you meet?”

“In dreams.”

Morpheus passed through one dream to another. A pastime he enjoyed greatly, even if he never outwardly showed it. He loved the complexity mortals’ minds conjured. He loved hearing their hopes. He loved how he had a helping hand in all of it.

It made eternity bearable.

Stepping into another dream, he squinted.

The sun shone brightly and fuller than the Waking. Peering up, the sun swirled with multiple warm colors, as if painted on. The sky varied in blues, deepest dark only found in oceans to so light it could be mistaken for white, with hints of a soft lavender mixed in. Clouds wisped by on a gentle, calming breeze.

He looked away, back down to earth.

It was a meadow, stretching far and wide. Yellows, of wheat and corn, and greens, of summer, bleed together. Wild flowers, in all colors and shapes, brushed against his thighs. In the breeze, everything moved. It was a mesh of vibrant colors, a kaleidoscope. His eyes trailed ahead. Up, a short distance away in the middle of the sea of color was a single oak tree, massive and full. He slowly approached as curiosity tugged at him.

Rustling.

Flowers bent.

He twisted around.

Fae.

Fae flew out.

They giggled, ignoring the ominous presence of the Nightmare King, soaring towards the tree. Pointy hats poked between the tall grass. Gnomes. Gnomes pushed aside grass, flowers, and weeds following their flying counterparts. Soon, like they were summoned, animals appeared out of nowhere, all them heading towards the tree. The animals, however, only closely resembled those in the Waking. Combinations of animals mimicked creatures from mythical tales while other animals appeared to be the pure essences of ideas; such as a deer which grew moss, dragging across the ground, while lush branches with white flowers acted as antlers. Or overhead a hawk, or one loosely shaped as one, colored in greys dipped in dew would evaporate and reform from the mist seconds later leaving a trail of rain.

Ethereal.

Unreal.

The soul essence of dreams.

He followed the crowd to the tree. Creatures swarmed and mingled. Yet, oddly enough, he could not find the dreamer. He kept to the outer edges, skirting around being an unseen force.

There.

In the center of the chaos, there you sat snuggled between bears, one of which grew mushrooms in their furs, and other small creatures covered you. Just one big pile. A beautiful smile crossed your features. It was meant to be there.

Parchment laid in your lap. Your fingers were dusted black with charcoal. With a broken charcoal stick in hand, you delicately made big and small sweeping movements.

Now that he was closer to the tree, Morpheus’s eyes peered upward. In the branches, multiple pieces of parchment paper hung through. Each one showed a different drawing of all the creatures which surrounded you now. When you finished your latest drawing, you held it out and a flying squirrel, one that twinkled like a miniature universe, swooped down and quickly hurried up the branches to attach it, to add it to the ever growing collection.

Morpheus tilted his head.

Such a worldly, yet simplistic dream.

To sit here among creatures seen only in the Dreaming, you did not seek adventures with them or create complex narratives. You drew them. You drew them in the shade of a tree, comforted by their presence.

He hummed to himself and turned around ready to seek another dream.

“Do you not wish to stay?”

Morpheus straightened. He peered over his shoulder, bewildered. In your pile, you stared directly at him. How did you see him? He was nothing more than a shadow in your peripheral vision.

“I can assure you I don’t bite and neither do they,” you chuckled.

Before he could respond, fae popped up behind him and pushed him forward. He stumbled. Wolves, with iridescent fur, gently grabbed his sleeves leading him. The dream lord soon fell down to his knees on your blanket, a blanket he did not notice with all the creatures around.

You smiled softly. “Hello, dark stranger.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Hello.”

“They were the first to ever see me.” Dream read, and reread the bronze plaque, despite it seared into his mind. “If I wish it then no dreamer will see me enter their dreams, yet they saw me.”

“So they were special from the start.” Matthew’s tone was gentle, kind, almost as if he was smiling.

“They were.”

“And you continued to meet in dreams?”

“We did.”

“Did they know?” Matthew cocked his head.

“Know what?” Dream hummed, looking at his raven.

“You were an Endless, or did they believe you to be some figment of their imagination?”

“I imagine at first they believed I was part of their unconsciousness, but I eventually told them.”

“Endless?”

“Yes.”

The two of you sat side by side under the massive tree. Creatures still lingered, but not as many or hectic as the first time you met. This time a dragon curled around the tree itself and rested its head in your lap. You mindlessly stroked its smooth scales as you talked with Morpheus.

“Huh.” You dropped your gaze to the dragon and its scales. Its scales was the darkest black only found in the deepest caves, yet in the light with the simplistic movement it shone with purples and blues like a galaxy.

Morpheus kept his gaze on you. He watched as you appeared to distract yourself with the creature laying before you. “Are you frightened?”

“Frightened?” You knitted your eyebrows together and snapped your head up. Your eyes met with his. His ancient ones, one that sparkled like magical crystals in stories of heroism. A crystal which would give you your heart’s desire. “Why would I be frightened?”

He puckered his lips, slightly. “Most mortals fear things larger than them.”

“True,” you hummed. Slowly, almost not to startle the Endless, you reached over and brushed his cheek. So warm. Morpheus didn’t move, he stared unwaveringly unsure how to react. “But it’s hard to fear something when it appears so human.”

You retracted your hand letting it fall back on the dragon’s head. Morpheus’s heart ached, an odd dull ache he hadn’t felt in ages. It ached for your warmth. He mumbled, “Is that not worse? To appear human?”

“Do you want me to fear you?”

“No, I -“

“Good,” you smiled at him, “because fear is the last thing I feel, oh mighty dream lord.”

He glanced away, smiling to himself.

“They accepted me.” Dream said. “And night after night, I visited them, for what felt and nearly was centuries spent, in the Dreaming.”

“Did you ever go to the Waking?” Matthew twisted around, peering up.

Dream instantly frowned. “Yes.”

Morpheus’s head laid in your lap. Your fingers combed through his soft tousled hair. With every stroke, new smells wafted up. First, it was smoke from a burning campfire; one found in a childhood with kids running and laughing about. Then, it smelled of paper; paper from books filled with secrets, anecdotes scribbled in the margins with rich ink, and covered in dust. And, it smelled of an early winter morning; the crisp cool air that warned of an impending snowstorm. It always changed. It all depended on what dreams he visited before coming to you.

Your head rested against the rough trunk of the tree. It poked and prodded at you, but you didn’t mind. It was just the two of you. No creatures to disturb you. Yet, despite the comfort being here with him, your chest tightened. A secret weighed on your shoulders. One which should have been spoken long ago.

“I’m dying.”

Your confession hung in the air.

Morpheus’s eyes shot open. Tranquility shattered. His lips parted, questions ready to leap off his tongue. His eyebrows stitched together, as his eyes desperately searched for a trick.

You smiled sadly down at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He immediately sat up. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a terminal disease, one that doctors haven’t seen before and obviously cannot cure.” You tore your gaze from him ashamed. “I knew a month before I ever met you.”

“There must be something.”

“They have tried everything.” You fiddled with your hands. Even now despite the last time you picked up charcoal, some was still stuck under your fingernails. A signature in your dreams. “For the last few weeks, I haven’t been able to leave my bed. Most say I have months, but that’s optimism speaking. I think it’ll be a week, if I’m lucky.”

Morpheus frowned.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you before. I - I guess I desperately wanted to escape reality.”

“Do not apologize,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Looking up at him, you said, “Can I ask a favor?”

His eyes softened. “Anything.”

“Can I see you in the Waking?”

Morpheus reached out, cupping your face with his hand. “Anything for you.” He brought you closer and pressed his lips on the spots between your eyebrows.

You cracked your eyes open. Your eyes swept over your confined bedroom, enough for a bed, dresser, and an end table with a pitcher of water, cup, and an unlit candle. Nothing else. No one else. Only darkness. A cold winter breeze blew through your broken window. You shivered burying yourself in your sheets. Inhaling the dust and debri, a violent cough racked through you.

A hand stretched out of the darkness and stroked your head, soothing you.

It didn’t startle you. You knew instantly who it was. “Morpheus?”

Through the darkness, a mass appeared. Stars, like swirling grains of sand, twinkled where his eyes would be. He bent down. The candle at your bedside sparked to life. The magical pale blue crystals from your dreams shone. In the Waking, he radiated. His presence was palpable.

“It’s me,” he whispered lowly.

You offered him a weak smile. “You came.”

“You asked, so why would I not?”

You shrugged, but your movement was faint and practically unnoticeable. “Most do not wish to see me like this. It pains them.”

He crouched down to be at eye level with you. He grabbed your hand, clammy and nearly lifeless. “You, my love, are still breathtaking.”

You snorted which unfortunately caused another coughing fit. Morpheus tightened his grip on you. “I appreciate your compliments, but I am growing tired of the lies.”

“Lies?”

“‘You look well today’ or ‘The color has returned’,” you huffed.

“It is not a lie.”

“Morpheus -“

“Your eyes still shine. They hold a spark I have never seen before in millennia and that alone is breathtaking.”

You smiled, genuinely. “Such sweet words from the King of Nightmares.”

“They died shortly after.” Dream finished. “Four days to be exact.”

Matthew’s wings drooped. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Dream shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry for. The Waking was far behind in medicine and science compared to now. They lived longer than any had expected which was a miracle in itself.”

“But, you couldn’t save them.” He pointed out, saddened by a story that has already come to pass.

Dream looked down at Matthew. “Only because my gifts do not lie in such things. But, in a way, I did save them.”

Matthew perked up. “By becoming your raven.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “my raven had died a month before their own passing. I wasn’t ready for a new raven, so I never sought one out. So, it seemed my sibling Destiny had shone upon us.”

For a day, you laid in bed unconscious. Loved ones streamed in, recognizing it to be your final moments, and whispered their last goodbyes. All of it was static. Muttered words unable to decipher a single syllable. But, you knew of their love, and you had said your peace long before.

However, your mind was elsewhere.

In a realm you visited frequently.

You leaned heavily against Morpheus. Your strength faded, even here in the Dreaming. Your dream, once vibrant and full of chittering mythical creatures, was now dull and quiet. It was you and Morpheus under the wilted tree. Fallen leaves scattered around. And your drawings strung about had vanished.

A cold chill blew past.

You shivered, burying yourself into Morpheus’s side. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, drawing you closer. A blanket appeared and unfurled laying over your tangled legs.

You hummed, “Thank you.”

He kissed your temple. “Anything for you, my love.”

You shifted, dragging your weary body up and away to properly look at him. Eternity spent in dreams was still not enough. You gently traced his face, from temple to jaw. You’ve memorized his features thoroughly, and have drawn them time and time again. And yet, you still always found new things you didn’t quite notice before. Like, the miniscule puncture left behind by an earring.

You smiled softly, running your hand over his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but can I see my family one last time?”

He leaned into your touch, savoring it. It will be the last time he could feel your warmth. “You may.”

The scenery faded.

The wide space filled with dying greenery, changed to a dimly lit bedroom. People, loved ones, crowded around your bed. You and Morpheus stood in the corner. Through the crowd, you spotted your body, weak and frail, rested on a bed you complained was too small and now swallowed your body.

You peeled yourself from Morpheus and walked forth. Your hand touched those you loved and whispered one last goodbye in their ears. A few turned their heads, but their gaze saw through you.

It wasn’t until someone touched your body, cradling your hand one last time, that reality set it. A wail broke through the commotion. Screams and pleads followed quickly. Tears flowed.

And you stood back watching it all unfold.

You were dead.

You sniffled. Loved ones hugged and consoled each other. A hand rested on your shoulder. You peered over, expecting it to be Morpheus, but instead found a woman with a kind smile. You looked past her to see Morpheus looking away.

“Hello, (Y/N),” the woman greeted you. “Do you know who I am?”

Recognition, much like seeing an old friend years later, filled you. You slowly nodded. Death. She was Death. And as you learned from Morpheus also his sister.

“Good.”

“Can,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “can I talk to him one last time before I go?”

“Of course.”

You stepped around Death towards Morpheus. The sounds of your grieving family faded, it was you and him. You grabbed his hands. His eyes, watery and red, slowly slid up connecting with yours.

Smiling through your tears, you said, “Thank you for coming into my life.”

Morpheus stayed silent. Words alluded him, slipping past like sand in an hourglass.

You squeezed his hands. “I love you. Always will, my dark stranger.”

You leaned in and pecked his cheek, whispering your final goodbye. You quickly spun around facing Death. Morpheus needn’t say anything. You knew everything and it would only pain you to hear it from him. It would cement the crushing reality of it all.

Death extended her hand out to you.

“Wait, dear sister.” You and Death turned to Morpheus. He looked directly at you. A new spark lit in his ancient eyes. “I am in need of a raven.”

Death smiled, almost knowingly.

“I don't understand.” You said, looking between the two.

“He is offering you a second life.” Death explained.

“What?”

Morpheus approached you. “I always have a raven companion. One that helps with my duties and can go to any and all realms. They are my eyes and ears when I cannot step away from the Dreaming.” He reached out, taking your hands. “My raven died recently and I have not found one to fill their place.”

“You want me to -“

“Only if you wish. I will not force you to do anything you do not want.”

A smile, filled with love, crossed your lips. You reached up, brushing aside his hair. “It has always been a dream of mine to fly.”

“They accepted,” Dream stated.

Dream walked away from the greenhouse strolling through Fiddler’s Green with Matthew perched on his shoulder. With every step, a pathway was created. Fauna moved and bent aside. There was no destination in mind, he let the forest guide him. In truth, he didn’t wish to see your plaque any longer.

The pain was becoming unbearable.

“Was it weird?” Matthew asked.

“How so?”

“I don't know. Going from a human to a bird is pretty jarring, not to mention this weird mind meld going on.”

Dream smiled slightly. “It was at first, but they did something I had never seen before.”

You circled above Morpheus on his throne. Swooping down, you landed rather abruptly on the armrest. You shook your head, then tried to steady yourself.

Morpheus tried to hide his smirk, but ultimately failed.

You glared at him. “Walking, then learning to fly is very difficult.”

This time he did not hide his growing amusement. “Is it now?”

“Very.”

Morpheus stretched his hand out. You hopped into his palm balancing yourself precariously. He brought you up and bowed his head. His forehead pressed against yours. His skin was cool compared to the stuffy feathers you now bore. “You will learn and you will be wonderful.”

Your heart skipped. You could not smile, but Morpheus felt it.

He pulled away so you rested back on the armrest. Your talons clacked against the metal.

“I have a question,” you began.

“Then ask.”

You shuffled side to side. “We’re connected. I am part of the Dreaming, and part of you, am I not?”

“You are.” He answered slowly, unsure where this conversation will go.

“Then do I not have a piece of your powers?”

“I do not follow.”

You huffed, ruffling your feathers. You took off and flew down landing a few steps away. You toddled around looking up at him on his grand throne. “The Dreaming is chaotic stability.”

Morpheus leaned on his armrest. “It is not how I would describe it.”

“It’s always changing and shifting, but it’s stable in its constant flow.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“So, could I not change as well?”

“Change how?”

“Dreams can be whatever you want. So, in the Dreaming, could I not be me? Or how I used to look?”

“You suggest you could change back to a mortal?”

“Just in looks.”

Morpheus hummed, intrigued. “I have never considered it.”

“Is it possible?”

“I have never tried nor has any of my ravens before suggested such things.”

“Did it work?” Matthew asked.

“It did,” Dream smiled to himself. “It was such human logic, and they succeeded.”

You stood on bare feet. Shocked, you wiggled your toes. You then curled and uncurled your hands. No wings. No feathers. Skin. Soft imperfect skin. Your clothes were plain and black similar to Morpheus’s.

You looked up at Morpheus.

He slowly stood up, dumbfounded and in utter shock. How did he not think of this?

Beaming up at him, you raced up the steps, skipping most on the way, and crashed into him.

He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into you. His arms tightened. He did not think he would ever hold you like this again. He would cherish it more.

“Wait, a minute,” Matthew bent his head, staring directly at Dream. “Could I do that?”

“You may try, but I have a theory as to why it might not work.”

Matthew’s wings drooped. “Why?”

“Because I knew them as a mortal. I had seen them and so had the Dreaming. Dreams are blurred and warped, never too precise, but I saw them in the Dreaming and Waking. I did not know you before, so if you tried you may look different to what you were as a mortal.”

“So it’s like some cosmic catalog or database?”

“Yes, if that helps make you understand it better.”

He sighed, disappointed.

Dream laughed through his nose. “Do not be disappointed, Matthew. They were a rare occurrence and no other raven has achieved that possibility.”

Dream continued to stroll through Fiddler’s Green. A silence washed over the pair, and allowed Dream’s mind to wonder to other pleasant memories of you.

“Stay still.”

Morpheus jerked his head up. In the royal library, tucked away in a corner together, you sat perched on a chair across from him with parchment and charcoal in hand. Just like how he found you all those years ago. Your eyes peered up from your work. You motioned him to return back to his original position.

He obliged.

He watched as you repeated movements, light and delicate touches, and as your fingers blended and smudged the messy charcoal. “Do you not have enough drawings of me?” He asked in thought.

You smiled to yourself, finishing the last details. “Never enough.”

He chuckled. “Then do you not grow tired of my face?”

You peeked up. Your eyes trailed up and down over his body, your smile shifted into a playful smirk. “Never, my handsome stranger.”

“Handsome?” He quirked a brow, and matched your smirk.

“Handsome, beautiful, ethereal, heartstopping, shall I go on?”

He tilted his head. His eyes softened, full of love and absolute adoration. “You have made your point.”

“Have I, my sweet king?”

“You have, my love.”

You smiled. A warmth always spread over you at those two simple words. Setting down your things, you got up and walked over to him. He craned his head back, staring lovely up at you. You bent down stealing a single kiss. He hummed. Breaking apart, you pressed your forehead to his. He filled each of your senses.

“There is one thing I do wish to draw,” you mumbled.

“Oh?”

“But, I do not think Lucienne would appreciate it.”

Morpheus was confused.

You chuckled, then moved to whisper in the shell of his ear. “We would need a more private setting.”

It clicked.

He chuckled. “Lead the way.”

Dream’s feet carried him out of Fiddler’s Green. Standing on the outer edges, his castle stood high and proud in the distance. Dreamers mingled on the bridge. They stared up in awe at the castle and its guardians. Some rushed in while others looked elsewhere. They peered over the bridge to see boats zipping by on the river, or mermaids jumping out.

Life continued on.

As it always will.

“Can I ask how they died?”

Matthew’s presence startled Dream out of his thoughts.

He sighed and began walking back home. “I do not know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t.” Dream mumbled. “It is a mystery that may never get solved.”

Matthew hopped off of Dream’s shoulder and flew in front of him. “That doesn’t make sense. How do you not know?”

“All I know was they were in the Waking last and when they returned to the Dreaming they were already gone.”

Morpheus was sprawled on his steps, flipping through a book. His lips thinned in deep thought. Thoughts of dreams and nightmares, thoughts of other realms, thoughts of his siblings, thoughts of -

“Morpheus.”

He peered up through his lashes. In your mortal form, you stepped out of the shadows. He frowned. Something was wrong. You fidgeted with your hands, your eyes were glassy with tears, and a sad, completely disheartened, smile tugged on your lips. He leapt to his feet, rushing towards you. “What-“

He froze.

His eyes widened slightly. A figure loomed behind you. One he knew quite well. His eyes jumped from you then to your shadow.

“No,” he stepped back and shook his head, “no.”

“I’m sorry, Morpheus.” Death stepped around, now at your side.

“You cannot -“

“It has already been done, there is nothing else I can do, and I am truly sorry.”

“Do not lie to me, you -“

“Morpheus.” Your voice cut through the rising argument. You stepped forth and grabbed his hands. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” He mumbled numbly.

You nodded.

Death faded away, giving you a moment. Your last one. No more second chances.

“How is this okay?” His voice strained.

You cupped his face making him look at you. “It happens. Surprisingly, I defied all odds and had already died once before. But, you gave me a new life. One filled with love and adventure, so please do not feel guilty.”

“Guilt? I do not feel any guilt.” His jaw clenched. “I am somehow drowning in sorrow and burning with rage all at once.”

“That’s okay, it’s perfectly normal to feel that.”

“Do not say it is okay. I - I cannot lose you again.” His voice cracked.

“You haven’t, you won’t.” You pressed a hand over his heart. “I live in here, and I will watch over you from the sunless lands.”

His eyes dropped to your hand over his heart.

“Please tell the others: Lucienne, Merv, Cain, Abel, Gregory, and even Fiddler’s Green. Tell them I love them all dearly and I will also watch over them.” Your voice wavered as your lip began to quiver.

Morpheus locked eyes with you. “Do not put on a brave face for me.”

You sniffled, tears fell no matter how much you willed them back. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you're worried about. I - “ your throat constricted “- I just don’t want to leave you or the Dreaming.”

Morpheus brushed away at the tears.

“Just - just tell me you’ll be okay.”

“I will be.”

“Don’t shut anyone out.”

“I won’t.”

“And do find yourself a new raven soon, I’ll keep an eye out for ones and send them your way, okay? Care for them - all of them.”

He nodded.

You nodded. “Good, good.”

You tried to soak in every detail of his face. From the messy, midnight hair that stuck up at odd ends which you adored, to his pale skin free from any human imperfections, to his crystal blue eyes, those magical gems, to his puckered lips so perfect and so soft, to all his sharp angles, and to his body sculpted by gods.

You pulled him in a tantalizing slow kiss. Savoring, memorizing, with each fleeting second. His lips melded against yours. Your heart ached. You have kissed him countless times and it still felt like the first.

You broke the kiss, Morpheus tried not to chase after you. You still hovered closely. “I love you for eternity.”

“And I love you.”

“I’m afraid it’s time to go.”

You pulled away, looking to Death. She smiled sadly at the pair of you. You nodded. You started to move towards Death. Morpheus held onto your hands as you slipped through him. For the last time. Death held out her hand. You gently took it. Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at Morpheus through your tears then mouthed four last words.

With a flutter of wings, you vanished.

Gone.

For good.

Dream and Matthew walked through the castle’s entrance. The dreamers from earlier had vanished, either woken up or found interests elsewhere. Matthew mumbled something, saying Lucienne might need help. Dream knew it was a lie, but he didn’t mind.

Matthew flew off.

Dream was alone. Again.

Wordlessly, he moved through the castle; down hallways, zigzagging through impossible twists and turns, before appearing at his room.

Stepping in, a fireplace roared to life when he strolled in. He glided effortlessly over to his bedside table. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a wooden box. He fell down on his bed with a little bounce. He set down the box. His movements were precise and delicate, afraid to do any damage. Opening it, he carefully took out the contents. Parchment upon parchment, some were folded and some were rolled up while others were perfectly flat.

Your art.

Drawings of the Dreaming: from the throne room, to the library to Fiddler’s Green, to even a few scenes from actual dreams. Drawings of those who lived here: Cain and Abel and even Gregory, multiple of Lucienne deep in her studies, but majority were of the Dream Lord himself.

He ran his fingers, light as a feather, over the drawings. Just skimming them some charcoal smudged.

It was the only thing he had left of you.

During a low moment, he tore through his room burning all your things: clothes, and gifts he had even given you. But, he broke when it came to your drawings. He couldn’t bear to burn any of them. Even if some were half finished, even if it was one that you crumbled up out of frustration. Each one he cherished deeply.

He closed his eyes, as tears slid down his cheeks.

“Goodbye, my dark stranger.”

#the sandman #the sandman dream #morpheus #dream #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #Morpheus x gn!reader #dream x reader #dream x gn!reader #sandman x reader #the sandman imagine #morpheus imagines

597 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

Fortune Favors the Bold. Yan Albedo x Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 1.5k.

Mona had seen many futures in her time.

Thus was the nature of the path she’d chosen for her life — to peek behind the curtain and see fate’s inner workings. Though the costumes were still being smoothed out and each actor was still memorizing their lines, Mona knew that they’d all take to the stage in time. She was privy to each plot twist before the audience could even take their seats.

These futures she’d scry played out in all manners of genres. Absurd, comical, tragedies; she sat in the front row for dress rehearsal. A critic granted an early access review to relay to those outside the venue, the tickets they clutch in their hands sometimes not valid for years or decades to come.

She never changed the content of what she’d seen in her visions. To do so was frowned upon. Still, she was taught to regale her eager listeners with flowery language so that they may sift through and find meaning in the fortunes themselves.

“You will soon be faced with a difficult decision with which no answer shall satisfy.”

(The young man would be asked whose life he’d rather save — his wife in excruciating labor, or their unborn child).

“Not every flower that wilts will lose its place in the garden.”

(This girl, who is counting on thriving off her sick father’s inheritance, will be disappointed to learn he will soon recover and live another decade).

“The treasures you hide might see the light of day before you are ready.”

(The jewelry this sailor buried would be found by treasure hoarders if not moved in a week’s time).

Mona never cared for this method and hadn’t utilized it since her first days as a student. Sure, it might sound better, but what good will it do? She doesn’t soften her words and says everything as it is. While she undoubtedly would be more popular by diluting her fortunes with niceties, her pride wouldn’t allow for it. To do this is an insult to her craft and the person seeking her guidance.

This black and white distinction kept the astrologer grounded when she was forced to carry the burden of certain unfortunate souls’ destitute futures.

Until now.

Until you.

It doesn’t matter that today is a fair, sunny day — chills envelop Mona’s body and her blood runs cold. The vessels are frozen solid and so is her tongue. Her fingers twitch, spinning the crystalline reflection of your constellation. She’ll do another reading. Klee is keeping you occupied by running amuck, you won’t even notice if she double-checks to ensure everything is in order.

Mona knows she doesn’t make mistakes.

But oh, how she wishes there was some glaring error to explain away what she had witnessed.

Your voice mixes into a fit of giggles from the young Spark Knight, who you lift and spin in the air. She thinks you’re saying something, calling out to ask if the astrologer requires more time, but her senses are so in tune with her work that the outside world fades away. Grass crunches beneath yours and Klee’s feet as you approach her.

Mona runs through a mental checklist once more.

The weather is perfect for scrying, with not a single cloud in the expansive sky. The stars thrum with energy, promising to whisper secrets untold to those whose ears are trained to listen. She takes a deep breath. Sweat perspiring on her forehead drips down, and her fingers tremble ever so slightly as she sets the finishing touches in place.

Her pupils dilate.

There were no flaws in my calculations, she thinks. This… this is really the fate that awaits [First]—?

“Ah! It’s big bro!”

Mona releases the water she’s holding in an instant, droplets falling to the ground and wetting the grass. She almost regrets it, as she hasn’t the slightest clue what to do with her hands, condemned to standing awkwardly while you both greet the newest actor to the scene. It’s a small mercy that your attention was stolen away from her. Knowing you, you’d ask if she was feeling alright. Perhaps jokingly ask if she’d seen a ghost.

If only.

“I apologize for being late,” a voice resounds. The Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius — Albedo. Mona forces herself to turn around as it would be impolite not to. His eyes aren’t on her, however, they’re on you. “Although, it looks like you found a way to pass the time.”

The trio’s attention is now entirely hers. It’s her posture she corrects first, realizing it’s reminiscent of the stance she takes when fighting. Her hands long to summon her catalyst. To douse the wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing with scalding liquid, so that his true nature might be revealed. She almost does just that when he sneaks an arm around your waist.

Her eyes dart around. Starting at the intrusive limb, your sheepish body language, Albedo’s seemingly unblinking stare, then settling on an ecstatic Klee who jumps up and down.

She takes the closest thing she can get to a deep breath. Mona knows she can’t force such a traumatic sight onto a child. From the esoteric knowledge permeating in her brain, she also doubts any attack from her would seriously injure that ‘man’.

How do you kill that which does not live?

That’s an uncomfortable silence in the air that you, in all your good intentions, attempt to alleviate.

“Mona was just telling my fortune,” you explain. This manages to stir Albedo’s interest. “I’m kinda nervous, actually. I wonder what’s in my future…?”

“I know, I know!” Klee raises her hand. “Big bro is gonna marry you and I’m gonna have looooots of nices and nephews to play with!”

“You mean nieces, Klee,” Albedo corrects in a soft voice, while you cover your face with your hands. Mona laughs — (did that sound as forced as it felt)? — thinking it the most natural thing to do. Albedo’s eyes still haven’t left her. It's the longest she’s seen him pay attention to anyone else while you’re also present.

Every soul living in Mondstadt knew of Albedo’s affection for you. The seemingly indifferent Alchemist who couldn’t be bothered when it came to social niceties took extra care in winning you over, cementing your place by his side. Mona always found it a peculiar match. Giving both your constellations a precursory glance, she saw how incompatible they were. And still, they were forced together, like two pieces of a puzzle that wouldn’t mesh.

“Did you need more time, Mona? I hope we didn’t interrupt your hard work,” you frown.

“No, er, I mean,” she exhales sharply through her nose, finding the art of forming basic words a most trying task, “Consulting the stars is not always a task that acquiesces to our whims. Fate can be fickle, at times. Blurry.”

You blink.

“My future is… blurry?” You look to Albedo, who is proficient at putting fanciful phrases into layman's terms should you be the one who asks. “Is that bad?”

“I believe it could mean a few things. Think of it like a hallway with multiple doors. You have a key that opens not just one, but multiple of the locks on each. It’s up to you to decide which you’ll enter,” he explains. He’s so convincing in his speech that Mona almost believes him herself.

“Oh, I think I see,” you draw the initial syllable out, then nod. “So it isn’t set in stone?”

“It’s merely a theory on my part. I’m not the expert here.”

You gaze at her with bright, shining eyes, awaiting confirmation. She knows she shouldn’t give it. Would that make her complicit too? While this part of the conversation was taking place, Klee occupied her attention elsewhere, playing with her favorite doll Dodoco. This would be the most opportune moment. Mona could give some type of warning, steer you gently in a direction away from the individual whose plans for you promised nothing but anguish, all for the sake of his gain.

It’s her sworn duty. She must, she will—

He raises his arm.

It’s slow, measured. A display of unrivaled composure. Though she senses no violent intent, she can’t help but take a step back, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. Propriety is completely disregarded on her behalf in the wake of what could happen. Everything hinges on what he does next. He knows. He knows that she knows.

This is a curtain she should’ve never looked past.

With neither you nor Klee paying attention to his countenance, he’s able to get across his intent crystal clear.

He presses a lone finger to his lips and keeps it there, eyes swirling with darkness, thicker than a miasma and just as suffocating.

This is his message, she thinks. Or, to be more specific, his warning.

“Ahem… the night sky has revealed a great many possibilities to me. It is a wheel of fortune with many promising prizes to land on should you give it a spin… an... arrow you must fire off into the dark to see what it shall hit...”

(His love is a curse no blessing from any god on this side of Celestia can be rid of).

Mona had seen many futures in her time.

However, not a single one came close to the nightmare she saw in yours.

#albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff

864 notes · View notes

underyourspellfics · 9 months

Text

Post-Calamity Life

There will be spoilers for the end of BOTW and mild spoilers for TOTK Please, I just love them both so much and they deserve a break from the constant tragedies and heartache ;-; Zelda x GN!Reader x Link

||General||

• They are so incredibly grateful to have you by their side, both during the nightmare that was the Calamity and now when things have settled

• Perhaps it is the trauma that surrounds the both of them from having lost so much during the Calamity, but they rarely ever leave your side -- they want to make sure you’re really there, that you’re not going to disappear if they blink

• Regardless if you had been apart of the fight 100 years ago --and survived thanks to Purah’s youth serum-- or if you only joined the fight in recent years, they are both so appreciative of all that you have done

• Because of the destruction all across Hyrule, and especially of the castle, it was quickly established that Zelda would be staying with Link

• And you of course

• It doesn’t matter how far you lived before, they would both be very insistent on you living with them in Hateno

• If you didn’t want to leave your previous residence behind, Zelda would enlist in Robbie and Purah’s help in instating a way to quickly travel between the two

• Lots of domestic bliss

• It feels strange for the three of you to have settled into a comfortable homelife after so much death and carnage and ruin --so foreign that the encroaching fear of something shattering the peace lingered constantly-- but slowly but surely you all are learning to enjoy the moments you share

• Link does far more than he should around the house

• House repairs and maintenance, cooking, cleaning, etc.

• It's mostly busywork

• He was so used to doing things on his own, and having something to do constantly because of his travels and destiny

• But now that peace has somewhat settled and returned, he feels he has to make up for his lack of work

• You and Zelda do your best to help him, in hopes that you can show him that he isn’t alone anymore

• Zelda’s strong suit doesn’t lie in cooking --she understands the concept but executing it doesn't always end in favorable results-- so she usually takes up cleaning up after meals

• She also loves to do the shopping

• It gives her a chance to get out of the house and actually interact with her people more closely, and it gives her a chance to experience something she would have never if her life in the castle remained

• You do your best to help where you can, either by helping Zelda or Link with their own chores or filling the gaps that still need to be filled

• Mending clothes in one such chore you’ve designated yourself

• How many pieces of clothing did Link obtain that were covered in cuts and tears?

• How many times did Zelda or Link nick their clothes when it snagged on something?

• Healing was another big task you’d taken upon yourself

• Link doesn’t even notice half of the minor injuries he gets anymore, so he’s grateful when you see them and help him tend to them

• They love to give you small gifts, usually things they find while traveling across Hyrule

• They want you to know that they’re always thinking of you

• Cuddles are a MUST

• The two are far more touch starved than they would like to admit

• They just want to feel you close to them, it helps solidify that you’re really there for them, that this isn’t all just in their head

||Zelda||

• Gardening has become one of her main hobbies, and she invites you to join her often

• Although she mostly grows various flowers and medicinal herbs --for your potions-- she has picked up a few tips on growing vegetables from the Hateno locals

• Despite how all other attempts at domesticating the Silent Princess have failed, she has managed to successfully grow 3 that have sprouted intertwined

• She views this as a sign that the three of you are meant to be together, because of the legend about swearing your love on one

• She loves to take you on her excursions across Hyrule during the restoration process

• Especially when visiting the various stables and helping to take care of all the different creatures across the land

• She named a Dondon after you ;-;

• She loves to go out riding with you across Hyrule, it gives her an excuse to take in the scenery you

• The children of Hateno ask about you constantly, expressing that they’d wish you’d visit more whenever Zelda stopped by to teach

• If she has just fallen asleep or is in between being asleep and awake, she is a light sleeper

• But the second she’s out like a light, she sleeps like the dead

• It's actually kind of terrifying

• Her nightmares are not as frequent as Link’s, but she has a much more difficult time waking from them

• You’ll have to call out to her and shake her awake to free her from her own tormented thoughts

• She’s unable to get a word out over her hiccupy sobs, and she just clings to you until she’s able to calm herself down

• She is so incredibly grateful of you helping her through these moments, and she does her best to make it up to you the next morning

• She is a morning person and enjoys getting out to see the sunrise whenever she can

• Her affections are far shyer than Link’s

• This is mostly due to her upbringing, where she was supposed to refrain from expressing too much lest she give enemies something to use against her

• But she’s learning, slowly but surely, that it doesn’t have to be that way

• Because she wants to express herself, especially when it comes to her feelings of you

• Her favorite thing to do is to link pinkies together, it’s a way for her to know you’re right beside her no matter what you two are facing

• If you have it, she loves to play with your hair, no matter how long or short it may be

• She would love it if you played with her hair too, braiding and styling it how you please

• It gives her such a comfort, and she could fall asleep in your arms from how soothing it is

• She loves to read to you, even if you have no idea what she is talking about

• She just gets so excited about her findings on anything and everything and wants to share it with you as soon as possible

||Link||

• On the days where Link doesn’t have anything to do, he’ll follow you around as you do your daily routine

• Your presence is enough to put him at ease, and it’s enough to remind him that you’re really here, that you’re not going to up and disappear

• His affections are much more subtle than Zelda’s, although they are not as shy as hers

• Gentle touches on your shoulder or against the small of your back, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers, leaning down to press feathery kisses to the crown of your head

• He isn’t the best with words, so he puts all of his love and affection into his actions to show you how much he cherishes you

• He is so touched by how gently you treat him when you are treating his wounds

• The way your fingers ghost across his scars and how you utter such comforting whispers as you clean him up

• He recalls how kindly Mipha used to treat him and the others during the time of the Calamity, and he’s so incredibly grateful that someone else treats him with the same gentleness and humanity

• He can thrive off only a few hours of sleep, but there are days where he’s so exhausted that he can sleep through an entire day if given the chance

• It doesn’t matter if you were a fighter or not during the time of the Calamity, he’s going to teach you to fight

• He just wants you to be able to defend yourself should something ever happen, and there are days where he has to leave to help fight off any remaining monsters that linger across Hyrule so he wants you to be able to stay behind and keep things safe

• One of his all time favorite things to do with you is to go out riding horses

• It feels so freeing, just to be out in an open stretch of field and to be racing as fast as possible, feeling the wind whip through your hair and across your skin

• His memories may be scattered due to having been asleep for 100 years, but that doesn’t stop the nightmares from tearing through his mind every night

• He is such a light sleeper, both due to his rigorous training as a royal knight and because of his own anxiety and paranoia of being attacked at any moment

• He tries so hard not to wake you or Zelda on his worst nights, and he tries to slip out as quietly as he can to try and destress

• His main way of working through the stress and panic is training

• He has been known to work himself to near exhaustion just trying to chase his demons away

• If you do wake during the night and find him out training, sit with him

• He may not open up about his nightmares, at least not right away, but having your presence is enough to still his racing thoughts for even a moment

• There are nights where he can’t handle it all alone, the stress and pain and fear catching up to him all at once

• Those are the nights where he craves your presence the most, just to hold you and cry into your shoulder and allow himself a moment of vulnerability with one of the few who he trusts so dearly

74 notes · View notes