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the-common-cowgirl · 2 months

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Chapter 1 - Intro

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x OFC (Anikyra Targaryen)

Summary: The Peaceful King Viserys hears word of a Targaryen Princess that resides in the broken stronghold of Valyria; which has since become an immature kingdom after of the doom befell their land. Feeling the tension between his house and believing the long night may soon come, Viserys proposes a betrothal between the Valyrian Princess and his second son, Aemond Targaryen, believing his daughter’s prophetic dream that the child born of this union will become the prince that was promised.

Warnings (Ch. specific): Mentions of murder and usurpation.

Word Count: 1600

A/N: AHA! First chapter of this rework done! Probably going to work on finishing The Lost Children after this unless this gets a lot of attention lol.

Masterlist

Dawn awakened over the vast land that once was the great stronghold of Valyria; now an emerging kingdom over the broken land. The red, hot sun greeted her on the east side of her balcony and the beautiful, bright rays danced along the pale, blue water of the sea that faced her to the south. The large, shiny, black castle, mounted on the side of a great mount of stone and soot, stood tall above the city. She could see the hustle of morning coming and goings of the smallfolk below her who now resembled crawling ants. She often sat high above them on warm dawns with her tea, wondering if, although their lives were harsh and rough, were they simpler? Were those people below her free in the choices they made or were they too, confined to a blind duty born of their station? Did they have autonomy over their beating hearts or were they too a prisoner in their own personal hell?

She doubted it.

She heard a door open in the distance behind her and knew her handmaiden was coming to ready her; she also knew the handmaiden would be bearing news in which she dreaded. News of the scheming of the King of Valyria and another King of a distant land. News that would be comparable to news of her own execution; at least, in her mind. She did not want to hear it but she knew it would come regardless of her wishes. So, she decided to muster up her courage, to take her cup with now cool tea and walk into her bedchambers to hear if this was the news her handmaiden would be bearing.

“Princess, a messenger has sent word that the Targaryens of Westeros have embarked on their journey here.”

The ‘False Targaryens’ you mean.

She all but slammed her cup on a table, nearly breaking the fragile porcelain, angered by the audacity of these Westerosi to come here and believe they have any sort of claim to what was once their homeland. A homeland they were exiled from when Aenar defiled the name “Targaryen '' by gambling his riches awash then trying to make good on his debts by stealing his elder brother’s, Aelys Targaryen, dragon eggs. Aelys should have not only exiled him, but executed him. No, her ancestor, Aelys, allowed his brother to be exiled comfortably with his family, a dragon and a handful of eggs. After the doom befell Valyria, all the dragons fell from the sky, burning from the outside in, and Aelys’ only daughter requested help from the Westerosi. She asked for Aenar to bring his dragons and help what remained of the dragonlords escape the wrecked ruins of what was their home. Aenar responded with a simple “Nyke ivestragon Aelys hen bisa vejes” [I tell Aelys of this doom]. So, desperate for help and to save the remains of her people, she took it upon herself as the last highborn blood of the dragonlords alive, she turned to head to Asshai…and the Taragryens rose from the ashes…without the help of the last of their kin.

“Princess?” Her handmaiden approached lightly and slowly; holding out her hand as if she were approaching a deadly beast that needed to sniff her first to know she’s not a threat.

“Yes, Tiah. I understand the words you spoke. I know they are coming. I’d be more content today if you chose to not speak of it. Is that understood?” She snapped with an edge to her voice she wasn’t intending upon. Realizing she was staring harshly toward her handmaiden, she softened her stance slightly and turned away to hide the outburst; lip twitching with residual anger.

Tiah, she thought, only a year older than I but such a meek and foolish girl still.

Her handmaiden took two steps back briskly. She held her head down and hands clasped behind her back. “Yes, your Grace. I will not speak further about them.” Like an obedient dog.

The Princess, overcome with emotion of anger she did not want to process nor dim, yet also, feeling the need to apologize to her poor handmaiden who was only doing her duty in informing Princess of the updates that the walls of the castle echoed, decided to walk out to the balcony again instead of apologizing for her misdirected anger.

Tiah is not the enemy here. Keep your head clear. Breathe.

After some time, the Princess decided to walk back into her bedchambers yet again, call upon her handmaiden, and ask for help dressing in a gown. She did not care which gown her handmaiden decided to pick, as long as it was light in this warming daylight and allowed her to breathe unrestrictedly. The day was hot and will grow hotter as the sun crawls higher into the sky. Tiah picked a thin silken gown that would allow her to stroll the castle on this day of summer without becoming faint. Emerald green silk with gold filigree embroidered on the sleeves and either side of her torso. It showed off a hint of her collarbone and she decided that it was an acceptable amount of skin to show to court. The Princess’ left hand slid along her exposed collarbone. Slender fingers caressing her soft skin.

I will not become some broodmare for a false dragon. She reminded herself in the mirror. I am the true daughter of Valyria. The last true dragon of Valyria and I will not let the false Targaryens of Westeros feast upon my body with their eyes. I will not bend, nor will I break.

She thought of her mother and how she did not bend, nor break to her father’s whims. The beautiful “Light of Valyria” remained gentle but firm in her hold of power. How her mother loved her father deeply but it was her who sat the throne. How her father helped raise Valyria from the ruins and strengthened their fledgling kingdom, his duty born purely out of the love he held for her mother. Despite all of their love, duty, and power, they only produced a single child. One daughter.

Naturally, being the “First Child of Valyria,” she would be the heir uncontended; free to marry whomever she wanted, regardless of status or power. If only the natural order of things were so easy to abide by.

The day they revolted against her father, the King Consort, she had viewed her mother’s face for the first time for who she truly was: a monster. Only a monster would sentence their true love to death. Only a monster would marry the man who usurped her father’s place and allow him to stand beside her throne as her new King Consort. Only a monster would lie with the man who murdered her only child’s father and only a monster would give birth to the most precious being in this world.

Her younger sister. Only four years younger but still so very wise and kind. The only person in this world whom Anikyra has ever had to love and cherish. The only one who had ever claimed to love her and didn’t abandon her for the sweet taste of death. The young Princess Scilia was the very image of their mother. Pale hair, purple eyes, touched by the dawn and the light above. She always wore light colors as well; an homage to her mother. The elder sister sometimes even thought that Scilia was the Sun itself; especially when times were dark and cruel. Many referred to the young Princess as “The Light Princess.”

Those very people had a similar name for the elder Princess. A name she did not care to refute as she knew the truth in it. When she was born, in the month of the Sapphire, her father was so happy his child would carry a reminder of him, regardless how small. The midwives called it “touch of dark.” Her mother called it “soul of the dragon.” But the people of the great castle called her “The Dark Princess,” for the small patch of black hair on the right side of her head, intertwined in her long, thick silver locks.

Those names, those whispers as she walked the slick, black floors of the castle, they gave life to the fire burning within her. Gave life to the rage she felt. Gave life and all that is unholy to the plan she had laid before herself once she heard the news, fourteen years ago, that her mother had been taken out of the castle a month after the birth of the Usurper King’s first child, the child that sealed his place on the throne, and executed in secret by the that very man. By the Usurper, her Father-by-law. She may be the heir to her parent’s murder’s kingdom, but this kingdom will bend the knee to her and her alone. She will take her realm back by blood.

She found herself in front of the massive iron double doors to the throne room. As they opened, the large crowd of the court turned all eyes toward her and dared not look away for even a moment, as they always had done. The masses watched the predator in the eyes of the Dark Princess at all times for sign of a threat, waiting anxiously for the day she finally snaps and ends the man who murdered the very couple who gave her life.

She began ascending into the throne room, straight toward the Valyrian Throne where the now-King sat and a voice called out before her.

”Princess Anikyra of the great House Targaryen. First child of Valyria, Heir to the Valyrian throne.”

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#house of the dragon #fanfic #aemond targaryen #false dragons #house of the dragon fandom #house of the dragon aemond #hotd aemond #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x ofc #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond

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thevelaryons · 1 month

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The theme of 'family' is at the core of Corlys' storyline. It's the reason behind so many of his actions. He even left the sea behind for the sake of family.

At seven-and-thirty, the Sea Snake was already hailed as the greatest seafarer Westeros had ever known, but with his nine great voyages behind him, he had come home to marry and make a family. “Only you could have won me away from the sea,” he told the princess. “I came back from the ends of the earth for you.”

— Fire & Blood, The Long Reign

It is also, I believe, the reason he had an affair. The perfect family he had envisioned for himself was unraveling before his eyes at the onset of his son's marriage to the crown princess, and at the same time, his daughter was trapped in a betrothal to a man that proved a wastrel.

This might seem an odd statement but I don't believe Corlys loved Rhaenys any less even though he cheated on her. His problem was never with her, but all to do with the family succession. The truth would of course hurt his wife if she ever knew of her husband's actions. But again, the issue is centered on the children of their family.

Lord Corlys did not share Ser Laenor’s erotic predispositions, he points out, and the Hull shipyards were like unto a second home to him, whereas his son visited them less frequently.

— Fire & Blood, The Dying of the Dragons

Personally I don't think the affair was happening exactly at the shipyards. That would have been too risky. It's far more likely that Corlys would visit the shipyards of Hull to go out sailing and that's when he would meet up with Marilda. Corlys came home from the sea for the sake of family and it's at sea that he creates his new family. Not the healthiest of coping mechanisms but that seems to be what's happening here.

Between his dragon wife and his mistress of the sea, Corlys has two children each. As I mentioned before, these children parallel each other: Laena to Alyn and Laenor to Addam. While the wife and mistress seem at opposite ends of a fire/water dichotomy, it's worth pointing out that they were both around the same age at the onset of their relationship with Corlys. It's also possible that they might have shared a slight resemblance (especially if the theory of Marilda being a Targaryen dragonseed is true and that being where her sons get their dragonriding potential). When it comes to his children, I do wonder what Corlys thought about the younger two becoming part of his life in relation to the ones that he had lost. He must have been feeling quite haunted.

Though in the end, Corlys ends up loosing most of his immediate family. His wife dies in a war for the iron throne when incidentally she was herself denied the same throne. His daughter, who he managed to secure a better marriage for, dies in childbirth. His eldest son, for whom he was willing to bend the rules to allow him his freedom at Driftmark, is killed by a knight of his own household. His other son was the perfect heir that Corlys had always wanted but he is unable to truly save him (he was doomed the moment he became Corlys' heir) and they are both condemned as traitors together. By the time the fighting is done, Corlys has only one child left to him: Alyn aka his mirror.

Alyn remains behind but for the remainder of his life, Corlys does not return back to Driftmark or to the burnt ruins of his castle. When Corlys himself dies at last, after having lost so much of his family, it is his mistress who returns him back to the sea.

Afterward his remains were carried back to Driftmark aboard the Mermaid’s Kiss, captained by Marilda of Hull with her son Alyn. There the battered hull of the ancient Sea Snake was floated once again and towed out into the deep waters east of Dragonstone, where Corlys Velaryon was buried at sea aboard the very ship that had given him his name.

— Fire & Blood, Under the Regents

#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #corlys velaryon #rhaenys targaryen #marilda of hull #laena velaryon #laenor velaryon #addam velaryon #alyn velaryon #house velaryon #meta

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fishnets-fingers · 11 months

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Underneath the Stars

“So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of not drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - i wrote so much. so, i’ve decided to split it into two parts. i made a banner for forbidden hours and it took me a lot longer than anticipated but i think it tured out great. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST | MASTERLIST

….

நீள்பயணம். Voyage. News had spread far and wide across the expanse of the empire about the Princess’ journey far East. Throngs of people gathered on the docks to bid farewell to her and scream out wishes of luck and fortune. It was a busy day, filled with fanfare from the subjects, priests blessing the vessel and ministers of court spewing out strategies whilst handing bundles of parchment of the meticulously crafted plans.

A journey always stirred up feelings of unbridled joy, especially since the aim of this particular voyage is to draw up a treaty with Handuman - three small islands that lie smack in the middle of a crucial trade route between the Cholas and Burmese. A tiny island kingdom that was a thorn on Y/N’s side for the past year; with news of shipment from Burma being pillaged and sabotaged at sea constantly thwarting her plans of bringing components of machinery to assemble aiding with agriculture. She put together a counsel which oversaw striking a peaceful agreement that would mutually benefit both nations, a long drawn process of negotiations with a vacillating King that finally culminated to this day.

A day where she set sail on a three week journey to visit the islands, attend a ball hosted in her honour, and cap it off with signing the treaty. Needless to say the kingdom was ecstatic with the promise of the Princess Royal bringing more riches into the land. All of Y/N’s voyages to neighbouring kingdoms resulted in astounding successes, so people did have a shred of doubt that this one would go south. At the break of dawn, the majestic vessel was filled with her entourage - guards, a trade minister, the guard captain who was responsible for her safety, the sail crew, two of her handmaidens, and her lady-in-waiting, Shobhita.

Shobhita has been by Y/N’s side since they were partnered together for dance lessons fifteen years ago. As kids, Y/N took it upon herself to teach her how to conduct herself properly in court. Despite not liking the bossy Princess Royal, things took a turn for Shobhita when some children of nobility made fun of her lineage - going so far as to calling her ‘murky blood.’ She had light blue irises and hair the colour of sticky toffee - resembling her overseas mother, far different from what everyone else looked like and that made her an easy target. Though Y/N was not around for the name calling, she personally gave the other kids a stern talking, going so far as shoving one them and getting confined to her quarters by the Queen Mother. The two have been thick as thieves ever since.

“Remember Y/N, you are representing our Dynasty from the second you dock there until you set sail,” the Queen Mother starts.

“I know. I know, grandmum. Best behaviour and all,” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You know better than to roll your eyes at me?!?” The older woman narrows her eyes in warning.

“Have I not conducted myself well on my trips so far?”

“I’m not saying that you haven’t, but be wary. I’ve heard nothing but vile things about the Prince of Handuman. I’ve seen to it that your guards have been doubled.”

“Is that why I’m going there alone without any advisors? You know I can take care of myself-“

“I know you can,” the Queen Mother interrupts her. “Keep an eye out on all our girls.” She whispers, taking her palm in her hands and gives it a warm squeeze, before walking towards the chief.

When she gets a minute to herself, Y/N turns away from the enthusiastic crowd, gripping on to a wooden mast, she closes her eyes, picturing her garden. The patch of flowering shrub - right by her reading bench - which attracted the prettiest of blue butterflies. She feels the tightness in her shoulders ebb away, only to have it disrupted when she feels someone pull on her braid. She flicks her head around in annoyance to find her little brother sheepishly looking at her.

“What do you want?”

“You’re sleeping standing up,” Karthi notes.

“I was not. I was trying to relax,” she sighs.

“I’m sure that the vast blue of the water is relaxing enough. Never knowing what’s under the thousands of leagues under the sea. Maybe there’s a giant fish with razor sharp teeth as long as the mountains waiting to capsize the boat. Shame, won’t even know it’s coming in the dark of the night with nothing but pitch black in the horizon-“

“Shut up, Karthi!”

“Calm down,” he throws his hands over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “You really think Dad is gonna let that happen to his favourite child. There’s no way this voyage was approved by him without contingencies for every single thing that could go wrong. He’s not gonna let the people’s Princess get lost at sea.”

“I appreciate you trying but it’s not helping. Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t Dad want you at the capital yesterday?”

“It can wait,” he shrugs it off. “I’m not going to leave without saying goodbye to my favourite sister.” He bends down to engulf his big sister in a hug.

“I’m your only sister,” she chuckles, swatting him away. “In other words you hung around for morsels of attention from Shobhita.”

“Give me some credit!” He says feigning being wounded. “I brushed my hand against her arm,” he whispers, pointing to his left palm.

Y/N shakes her head at the smirk that tugged at the corner of her little brother’s lips. They’ve had a crush on each other from when they were both old enough to understand what that meant. Being the daughter of a vassal king, who happened to be close friends with her father, it was agreed upon by the elders that Shobhita and Karthi were to wed. Though Shobhita was a Princess of a small hilly region in the dynasty, it was thought best by the parents to have her grow up in the palace and serve with Y/N as her lady-in-waiting to learn the ropes of handing the responsibilities that would fall on her shoulders once she married.

Right as Y/N was going to say something witty, their attention was pulled to the commotion at the gangplank. When Y/N peers over she sees Harry hold up his royal seal to the guards before lugging up his things.

“What’s he doing here?” Y/N asks her grandmother, but finds the Queen Mother cluelessly staring at her grandchildren.

“Your majesties,” Harry bows, and wordlessly hands the Queen Mother’s guard the parchment before it’s passed to the old woman.

His eyes flit over to Y/N with a small smile tugging but he finds her pointedly staring over his shoulder with a scowl. He frowns, did she forget our time at the docks? The last time he saw her was filled with fiery passionate kisses and sweet nothings. He didn’t expect the Princess Royal to throw herself at him in front of everyone but was he not warranted a polite smile.

“It’s from your brother,” the Queen Mother tells the siblings. “Looks like Harry over here would also be travelling with you.”

“What? Why?” Y/N asks, dreading the thought of being locked in close quarters with the spy.

“He wants Harry to accompany you and be added to oversee your guard detail along with the chief.”

“But that makes no sense, he’s hardly a guard,” she protests.

“That’s quite true, Princess but I do know a thing or two about fighting. The Crown Prince wants you to be protected, that-“

“I do not require your protection, Mister Styles,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The Crown Prince has spoken. His reasons are clear,” the Queen Mother tells Y/N firmly, handing her the parchment. “Harry Styles will be accompanying you.”

////

The texts spoke of the majestic wonders of the sea in all its boundless beauty, sailors talked about the vast bodies of water being their companion; the sea was glorified by almost everyone Y/N had met and even by herself - she’d allow herself to stand at the edge of the shoreline and daydream about what life on the other side of the water looked like. There was immeasurable poetry that was either written at sea or took place at sea, but what none of them talked about was what it did to your psyche. Four days of constantly bobbing about the tides, with nothing around but endless blue and a blanket of darkness at nightfall, not to mention the terrifying sounds that accompanied no visibility. She missed the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the smell of her freshly watered gardens, the buzz of bees, birdsong, the vivid colours of her flowers against the green.

She brushed them aside as champagne problems for the first two days but the confines of close quarters were slowly creeping up on her. It didn’t help that she was avoiding Harry on top of all this, so she’d holed herself up in her room with Shobhita working on a project for the gala that’s being thrown in her honour. That’s how she found herself standing at the stern, hands clasped firmly on the wooden banister, at an odd hour in the night. She had her eyes closed, not that it made much of a difference in pitch darkness as she felt the wind against her face. It was eerily quiet, yet noisy as the vessel zipped through the tides, and everytime she flicked her eyes open she would only stare into the vast expanse of the hazy abyss. An insidious fear crept in which made her bones tremble about the nightmarish creatures that would leap out from the water at any moment.

“Careful there, Princess, any more harder and you might splinter the wood,” Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, the teasing apparent in the undercurrent of his tone.

She blinks down at her the way her knuckles have gone pale from gripping onto the wood. Sighing she turns her head to the side, to catch a sweet smile painted on his face as he bows spitting out the formalities.

“Mister Styles,” she acknowledges him halfheartedly, turning her attention back to the abyss.

“Trouble sleeping?” He enquires, stepping forward but the guard captain steps out from the shadow, directly in front of him, blocking his path. Harry throws his arms up, pausing. “I don’t mean any trouble, Captain.”

“You may not approach her royal highness,” he warns, the captain towers over Harry.

“It’s alright, Captain. He may step closer,” Y/N says.

“Princess, no man is allowed in your vicinity without a chaperone,” the Captain reminds her, and it doesn’t escape Y/N, the way he flexes his mammoth muscles to intimidate the spy.

“He is no ordinary man, remember. The Crown Prince has instated him to oversee my guard detail,” she points out. “I think it is time he took over the watch. I have kept you up for three nights now, and it’s high time you get some sleep. You may retire to your cabin for the night, Captain.” She smiles, wordlessly thanking him for being diligent enough to follow her each night.

He nods, muttering something to Harry as he hands over his spear to him. He bids Y/N goodnight and disappears down to his cabin.

“Whew,” Harry breathes out in relief. “Thought I’d be tossed overboard. Thanks for the save.” He mutters, making his way to the banister, leaving a comfortable distance between the two in case the Captain decides to check in on him.

“Don’t go thanking your lucky stars yet, I can certainly see to it that it’s arranged,” she bites back at him.

“You’re angry with me,” he states, making her chuckle.

“Wonder what gave that away,” she mutters, directing an eye roll at him.

He ignores her retort and continues, “You’ve been avoiding me since the minute I came on board.”

“That’s two for two. Gee for a spy, you sure do have a knack for picking up on the fucking obvious,” she shakes her head.

“I don’t understa-”

“Of course you don’t,” she huffs out a weak chuckle. “Apologies start with an I’m sorry.”

“Princess-” he starts, running his hand through his locks. “Y/N, I don’t understand why you’re cross with me. Is it because I’m sailing with you unannounced?”

“God, you’re thick,” she lets out a weak chuckle. “A storm hit the coast two days after you set sail to Lanka, Harry. I didn’t know for weeks if Karthi got the message on time!”

“I’m a good spy, am I not? When have I ever faltered in keeping to your word? Prince Karthi reached the Port Palace two weeks ago, according to your word, did he not?”

“That’s not the point, you idiot!” She turns to face him. “I did not hear from you! I did not know if you made it there. For three whole months! I didn’t know what to think.”

“Oh.” His face reddens as warmth spreads across his chest. He doesn’t understand why but he feels his face split into a wide grin as he replies, “I was doing my job and protocol states that - .”

“And you rode off to Vikram up north,” her tone was still accusatory.

“I had to, Y/N.”

“Why? Why did you have to get to him with such urgency? Was it Karthi’s orders? Why was it so important that you come with me all this way? Don’t give me all that poppycock about me needing extra security. My brother and I trust the captain with our lives. He’s overseen our protection since we were children.”

“Vikram’s mingled with the close friend of the Prince of Handuman. He’s foul, according to his best friend’s admission. He hits women and beds them without consent. He has complete disregard for matters of the court and he is well known for schmoozing -”

“Why does that even matter?”

Harry lets out a frustrated groan, “Will you please just listen to me.” He continues when Y/N quietens down. “The royal astrologer had seen to it that your portraits were sent to all neighbouring kingdoms - under your father’s orders - for matrimony. Prince Vinay had come across it when you were liaising with them for the trade deal. He, um, publicly vowed to…”

“Vowed to what?” She implores when he trails off.

“I’m sorry for being crude but he said that he wanted to ‘tear off your clothes, pin you against his throne and thrust some obedience into you while the court watches.’” He takes in a long breath before he continues, “So you will be under his pinkie and he can boast that the great Chola Princess was another notch on his bedpost.”

Y/N’s face twists in disgust as she processes what Harry had just shared with her. “Vikram knows I can handle myself around such odious men. I have more protection during this trip than I ever had in my life. Why did he send you to supervise my security? You have no experience…”

“It was my idea actually. I asked him to sign that decree to let me join this company and this was the only way to not raise any eyebrows among our men. I know you can handle yourself around the Handuman Prince, but I would not forgive myself if something were to happen to you…” He pauses, eyes roaming around for any lurking shadows, what comes next is communicated in a murmur, “This could provide a perfect cover for a Chola spy to be digging around Handuman.”

“A cover for what?” Her eyebrows scrunch, mouth twisting down in displeasure of being kept in the dark.

“Too many ears around,” he reminds her. He interjects before she can protest, “You will be the first to know once I have evidence.”

They hear a heavy splash making the ship drag, and the two lurch forward at the sudden movement. Y/N gasps, grabbing hold of the bannister and tightening her grip as a strong hand wraps around her elbow and tries to pull her away.

Things feel dissonant for her, there’s a ringing in her ears that’s managed to make all other sounds feel like it’s echoing from deep inside a well, she feels her body spasm as she struggles to draw in breaths, like her throat has something blocking the way. Her vision fades around the edges making her scrunch her eyes shut, but that only makes the successive shallow drum of her heart louder. She can feel the way the boat has a pull under her feet, like it was lugging around something heavy as it resists the sway of the vessel. She’s experienced unease before, but this time was different. This uneasiness was not fleeting. It was a type of fear. Fear oozes from the centre of her bones, slowly following its wake across everything it could consume inside her being. Paralysing to her anomalous senses. “I knew it,” she whispers. “Consumed by the waters, of course.”

If this was how she was going to perish, so be it.

“Princess,” his voice is distorted and faint but she picks it up. “Y/N.” It’s louder this time, floating closer. “We’re fine.” She feels his arms tightening around her frame. “Y/N, look at me.”

////

Harry does not understand what’s happening. Once second, he hears the men throw the anchor into the water and the next Y/N’s crumpled over the banister beside him. She looks to be in pain, her face ashen under the silver beam, he tries to tug her back - away from the edge but she’s bolted, hunching over the banister. He tries getting her attention, but can hear her mutter something about being engulfed by the water and it all makes sense to him. Why she was so hesitant to get on his boat when they were at the docks, how uncomfortable she was sitting opposite him, what made her hole up in her quarters all this time, the way she was gripping onto the banister earlier. The ocean petrified her.

He understands why she was mad for not hearing from him sooner. He left right before a storm hit the coast, showering her in kisses and whispering sweet promises. Promises. Well, promise. He promised to be safe and he did keep up his word, and he left for the battle tents of the Crown Prince, like he normally would when his job was done. But things were not normal. They’d kissed. Several times in fact. And he’d confessed his fondness for her.

He never faltered in his duties, he’d kept them up this time too. He had not realised a duty had implicitly fallen in his shoulders to bear when their lips met. To let her know that he was safe and not taken by the treacherous waters of the stormy seas as she’d let herself imagine. She had been worried about him. He made her worry.

“We’re fine,” he reassures, moving closer to her, holding her close to him.

It takes him a few tries but he gets her to look at him and a few more to convince her to let go of the banister. Her quivering lips and glassy eyes pierce his heart, but he manages to get her to slump to the floor beside him. It takes her a long while to stop trembling but he tightens her torso to his side, hoping to instill some warmth into her.

“We’re fine now,” he reassures, squeezing her hands. “The men tossed the anchor overboard. That is what made us jerk forward along with the ship. It takes a while for the anchor to latch onto the seabed. They’ve retired to their cabins for the night. It’s just that. It has happened everyday since we boarded the ship. It will keep happening until we reach home. We will sail again just before the break of dawn. Nothing is wrong with the ship. We are not in the way of any harm.”

She nods as he continues, “I apologise for not letting you know that I had reached Lanka in one piece. I’m sorry for all the worry I have caused you. I never intended to. I promise to never make you fret again.”

“Okay,” she tells him in a quiet voice, closing her eyes, as she forces her shallow shuddering breath to regain its steadiness.

He looks around once more, making sure that they’re truly alone, before focusing on her blinking back her watery eyes. “Why did you agree to the voyage in the first place?”

“King’s orders,” she tells him softly.

“You’re terrified of the ocean,Y/N ,” he reasons.

“I have duties, Harry. I get to experience all the luxuries one can imagine, compared to all that-” she shrugs. “Champagne problems, I guess.”

Harry shakes his head, she says king like it wasn’t her father. He would never do something that he didn’t want to, no matter who’s orders. But it was important to the princess in front of him and there was no use trying to challenge that. This was her deal, and it only made sense that she saw it through - she owed her people that. Instead he picks a different route, one that would help him understand her better, “What’s got you this scared? I’ve never seen you like this before.” It’s true. She was the first Chola Princess to be trained in combat alongside her brothers - demanding her father that when it came to the worst, she wanted to defend her people. She did not want to be holed underground with other women of court or in a temple praying for victory. She was an excellent rider, often would compete in races and encouraged young girls to follow suit.

“I do not wish to say,” she says hesitantly. She leans back and scoots away, her face slowly regaining composure.

“I don’t mean to pry, Princess. I grew up sailing the waters, I understand not wanting to recount a time -”

“It’s not that. I don’t have a harrowing story or anything.” She adds the next part quietly, “It is risible,” and her cheeks heat in response. Harry quickly notes the way she blushes, making him smile down at her in endearment.

“I promise not to laugh. Sailor’s honour,” he crosses over his heart.

Y/N lets out a peeling giggle in response, “You’re no sailor, Harry.”

“Yes, I am! Was practically born on a ship, Y/N.”

“You were born on a ship?” Y/N asks, sometimes it felt like he knew more about her than she did him.

Harry shakes his head, “Was born in my mother’s cottage in North England.”

“Did you grow up there?”

He shakes his head again, this time quicker with a frown. “No. I grew up on my father’s ship. Back to what we were talking about; you can’t discredit me as a sailor.”

Y/N’s brows scrunch at the sudden pivot in the conversation, but she doesn’t press on further, opting to say, “I thought you were a spy.”

A warmth blossomed in Harry’s chest from the mocking undercurrent of her tone. He’s never had anyone volley a conversation with him, and it came easy with her. “I am more of a ‘Jack of all trades’ kind of person.”

“Ah, I see,” she chuckles, bringing her knees up to her chest and encircling her arms around it. “So a master of none?”

Harry laughs, a high pitched carefree one, “Better than a master of one.”

Companionate silence blankets around the two, Harry passes her his leather water flask - that was clasped to his belt - and she quickly drains it muttering a quiet thank you. Harry leans back on his elbows, looking up at the shimmering moon above, it’s lovely tonight, he thinks. He’s spent many nights in a bobbing vessel with nothing around but the moon as company but he doesn’t feel the familiar solitude tonight. There was no intolerable silence this particular night, just the tinkle of Y/N’s anklet and silent sighs that escapes her lungs. His gaze flits over to her cheek, smushed against her arm, her gaze is fixed on her fingers as they fiddle with the ornament. A simple gold rope with a small lotus motif made from three pink diamonds and an emerald, clasped around her ankle.

Her foot. That’s what caught his attention, not the precious stones, but the curve of the arch of her bare feet. He wonders if it would tickle when he runs his lips over them, as he slowly nudged her knees apart, the fabric slipping away, the way her anklets would tinkle over his shoulders in sync with his head between her thighs. He shakes his head, rubbing his face, shifting to conceal his hardening cock and shoots her a polite smile.

“Not knowing,” Y/N says. “I do not like the deep waters because I have no idea what’s underneath.”

“No one does, Y/N,” he reminds her.

“I know. It is uncomfortable to not know. It feels like I am at its mercy, with the currents that can drag me under in a split second, if I’m not careful enough. It’s vast, and we have not explored these territories. I met with this woman that studies living creatures, and she believes that there is a high possibility of colossal squids and fishes deep down. There are old sailing accounts and drawings as proof. You have seen giant sharks and whales, have you not?”

Harry nods, as she continues fidgeting with her anklet.

“Life began in the waters, Harry, and we hardly know a thing about it. We cannot survive diving the depths; we certainly cannot compete with the predators that we know of. Imagine being at mercy of something unknown. It is the biggest mystery known, quite possibly the worst because it takes up much of our planet and we cannot even begin to understand it. The ocean has had a longer time to evolve than us, and we know much of the sky than we do about what is below.”

Y/N looks up at him, chin resting on her arm, as she waits for a response. She feels a pang of regret opening up to him when she is not met with anything. You expect him to comfort him just because you kissed a few times, a voice rings in her head followed by her grandmother’s lecture of having one’s cards close to your chest. No royal ever spoke of things that frightened them, she never did either. So, why did she think this was a good idea? Her maternal great - grandfather, a Chera king, was thrown into the castle moat filled with crocodiles by his subjects. He was vain and cruel to his people - granted that could have been the reason - but it had been prophesied that he would meet his end by the scaly reptilians, so he rewarded people to poach every last one of them and had them all in his moat. Ironically, he actively participated in furthering his prophecy while trying to avoid it. People would not have picked death by crocodiles if they never knew about his irrational fear. The kingdom was in shambles for many years until the birth of her mother, which enabled them to forge an alliance with the Cholas through matrimony.

While the Princess was caught in her own dilemma, Harry had a similar one running through his mind. He wants to assure her how secure ships are. He wants to explain how when you’re in the middle of nowhere with dwindling supplies, you start to see and hear things that aren’t really there. He wants to tell her that worrying would do her no good, especially the things that were occupying her mind because they were simply out of her control. All of the things he’d come to learn from his father’s experiences and his own. She was right, they barely knew about the ocean, but it wasn’t something to lose sleep over. But he understands, Harry was also scared of the ocean as a child before he got used to it. This was Y/N’s first time, and fears aren’t supposed to be rational. It wasn’t far-fetched, she had her nose stuck in books for answers and was born into duties, which required she understood the workings of life. She prided herself for being a step ahead of people around her and to do that one needed control. But the moment didn’t call for revelations; she needed solace.

He gives her a sympathetic smile before going on to say, “I was scared of the endless ocean as a child too, especially at night. You’re right, we don’t know much about the sea but we do know a lot about the sky.

“Look up for me, Princess,” he continues and they both take in the twinkling dots in the blanket of the night.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, beaming up at the gleaming moon.

“It is. We’re so caught up by things around us, we often forget to look up. The sky's the one thing that will not change. The moon will wax and wane and the stars will stay right where they are, flickering, guiding us to shore. It helped to look up at the sky when I was scared or in trouble. To be reminded that in the grand scheme of things, my fears didn’t matter. For whatever reason, the cosmos flows through me and that would mean my existence is a marvel. Even for a speck - no bigger than a grain of sand on the beach - the sky has many wonders in store for me.”

She stays quiet, her eyes glassing over, blurring her vision. Harry quickly catches the stray tear from the corner of her eyes with the backs of his fingers. He coos, leaning over to brush his lips against her temple, “I apologise for saying something out of line, Y/N.”

“You're not out of line, Harry,” she hastily blinks back her tears. “It helps. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to-“

“I want to.”

Anyone else pondering their significance by looking out into the universe might end up feeling helpless, paralysed even, but she feels none of that. She was born into significance and her roles only cemented the burden of upholding the legacy of the Crown. So, letting herself feel like a mere speckle was liberating.

////

The days that follow the same routine - the Princess holes herself up in her cabin during the day with Shobhita. Harry’s unsure what she was up to - and formulating any judgement from the box of fabric spools one of the handmaidens carted into her room, and the occasional laughs from behind the door - he’s happy she was occupied. It was hard to catch a glimpse of her when the sun was shining; there were guard’s stationed outside at all times and he did not want to tick off the guard captain.

The nights. That solely belongs to the two of them. She would come out of her cabin two hours before midnight to catch some fresh air to find him softly smiling at her. He'd readily stand, at the ship’s bow, with a spear in his hand by the intricately carved wooden swan figurehead. Y/N had ordered the guard captain to retire at night, since he’d been stationed by her cabin all day. When he’d resisted - uncomfortable that the Crown Prince had instated a young man with no prior expertise as head of security- she’d gently reminded him that it was best for Harry to learn what guarding actually entailed in the safe confines of their ship. They’d spend the nights in each other’s companionship, Y/N’s heart swelled with Harry’s stories. Particularly the one of him as a boy, where he was convinced that someone had left a giant bunny up the moon. She looked at him endeared as he pointed out the outline of the rabbit in the dark markings of the full moon. It soothed her, looking up at the heavens with someone made her confining thoughts about the ocean melt away.

This night was no different, the Princess pads to her usual spot to find a blanket spread out with two pillows. Her eyes fly to meet him and he gives her the same smile he did every night, bending down to light the two oil lamps, illuminating the jade of his eyes. “Your highness,” he bows, stepping away.

She nods, shooting him a surprised smirk as she curls up with her book. Harry eyes the old parchment she unfolds, a star catalogue, and he can’t help the chortle that escapes his lips.

“Stop it, Mr. Styles,” Y/N shoots him a warning look, not wanting to draw the attention of the crew.

“I apologise, majesty,” he murmurs, but Y/N notices the mocking smile that paints his lips.

She pointedly ignores him with a roll of her eyes, as she focuses her attention on Aryabhata’s text in front of her. Harry had challenged her last night, and she was determined not to lose.

The crew had dropped the anchor and had retired below deck a short while ago, and Harry could not help but admire the furrow in between her brows as she concentrated. Harry had spent the last few nights pointing out different constellations that Y/N simply could not fathom. Harry was amused that it bugged her so much that she couldn’t map out the stars in the night’s sky with ease. Her anklet falls on the blanket, and he’s sure that she had loosened the clasp from how much she fiddled with it while reading. She sighs, turning her attention back to the gold rope, fastening it in place, making sure to press down on the hook.

“Rijl al-Qinṭūrus”, she reads out loud in Arabic after a long while, flicking up to look at the sky. The star map had a figure of a centaur and all she had to do was find the brightest one right at the bottom. Her head cranes to find the brightest spot in the sky - the alpha centauri.

The only problem was, there were multiple bright specks and she lets out a defeated sigh, pushing her hair back, “Fuck this,” she mutters.

“Not very royal of you, Princess,” Harry’s teasing tone floats over, she finds him slumped over the bannister looking at her.

“It is the brightest and biggest star to spot at night,” he reminds her.

She narrows her eyes at him, looking back at the star catalogue again, and slumps back in defeat. “There’s something wrong with this star catalogue,” she declares. “There has to be, Harry.”

“Or maybe you are inept at this,” he smirks, coming to sit beside her.

“I am not!” She protests. “The illustrations are misleading. None of the constellations look like this,” she points to the image of a centaur holding a spear on one hand and a dead goat on the other.

“That’s because it’s meant for people like you,” he chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She arches her brow.

“Someone who learns from books. It only makes sense the catalogue has full fledged pictures of animals on there, otherwise it would be a mess of lines connecting one dot to another. So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin. They hadn’t kissed since he’d left for Lanka and every night he’d spend in her presence, Harry’s mind could not stop drifting to the way her mouth pressed against his with urgency.

Y/N eyes flutter shut, leaning towards him, nudging his cupid's bow with her lips. Her mouth brushes his as she whispers, “Not before I get my information, spy.” She backs away, observing the way his pupils dilate under the soft buttery light.

“You can’t spot the alpha centauri-”

“I know, which is why I asked you.”

He rolls his eyes at her hastiness. “No one can, because it can only be seen from the southern hemisphere.”

“You tricked me,” she gasps.

He shrugs, as he tugs her to him, wasting no time in capturing her lips against his. It was more heavenly than he’d remembered. Y/N’s hands snake up to bury them in the baby curls at the nape of his neck, bringing him closer. She melts against his chest, curiously slicking her tongue against his lips, smiling as he parts his mouth for her. She tasted like the tamarind candy she loved. Harry drops one of his hands from her cheek, finding home in the curve of her hip. It’s heady, both greedily smacking wet kisses the curve of their jaw when they part to draw in air. Harry’s heart thumps loudly against his chest, sending him rhythmic reminders that he was twitterpated by the woman trailing her lips against the stubble of his jaw. Plebeians and royalty don’t mix, and on the rare occasion that they did, it never ended well. But until midday tomorrow - when they would reach the port of Handuman - she was just a woman, made from the same stardust as him, whom he wanted to keep melding lips with.

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#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #indian!princess #COME SAY HI #fishnets-fingers #please leave tags if you reblog #underneath the stars #harry styles fanfiction

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hexonthepeach · 3 months

Text

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | chapter 25: tribunal

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [24: escort]

wc: 6.7k

warnings: in-world bigotry, graphic depictions of violence inc. cardiac arrest

recommended listening: ten's solo album is a masterpiece but we've got nightwalker and on ten on repeat for this one

When you’d failed to meet the expectations of your name and station your elder’s favorite punishment had been to send you to the Imperial Tombs to kneel.

For hours or even days–you never knew how long–the statues of the Amitahba Buddha and his companion bodhisattvas were your only company beside the dead as those surveilling you determined whether or not you’d shown the appropriate level of filial piety.

Those long gone points of meditation were more welcome than the terrifying visage of a xiezhi rising up behind your judges now, cloud-like flame swirling from its lion-like snout and single horn.

If myth were to be believed, at any indication of guilt the chimera would simply impale or devour a criminal. You can register a similar threat in the machinery beneath the holographic projection, the cold light of sensors and turrets in its frame. Tapestry-like screens hang on either side, reflecting you and the equally frightening sight of your vital readouts.

Now you kneel in the center of the arena, a slowly rotating sam-taegeuk beneath you casting the scene in ominous primary colors. Before you the table is set up for the legal arm of the tribunal, the three judges flanked by a small army of advisors and projected screens.

Your neck is bent, not just from the heavy jewelry adorning your head but the weight of thousands of Syndicate eyes resting on you, countless more if your suspicions that this was being streamed were correct. Outside the Dome, you aren’t spared visibility.

Thankfully, neither are they.

“Lee ____, third of her name. Lotus Princess, Daughter of Heaven and the East Sea. Only child of Lee Eunji, second of the Samshin, beloved in memory. The one born by the will of All Saints and the stars aligned to be Princess Consort of the last Imperial Dynasty of New Goryeo.”

“You come before us bearing a number of complaints brought against your kin, your mates, and the pack who took you into their protection.”

Protection. You flinch at the word. Your judge clears his throat, eyeing you over his glasses.

“We will hear your case before that of the accused, and decide on the terms for reconciliation,” the central figure finishes.

Elder Jeong Yunho is only a distant relation to the hound in Halatus, you know, your parent’s generation and the most notable prosecutor in Old Seoul. He's joined by one of the Park elders, a sly looking man you know as Leeteuk, along with that strange Vulpine spokesperson with a flashy suit–the Kim.

“Rise, Lee ____, and swear your vows.”

“Esteemed members of the Imperial houses and Syndicate, thank you for honoring my formal request for a tribunal.” You curtsy deeply in the spite of the burn in your knees, tail sweeping the illuminated floor. “I welcome your objective review of my case.”

You can feel the approval of your uncle at having remembered your etiquette, though you can’t see him in the booth beyond the table with the blazing lights. You approach the table to lay your hand on the Imperial seal, the touch activating an internal glow.

“Under the eyes of heaven and by its laws, I swear to tell the truth,” you recite.

“Please proceed with your testimony,” Leeteuk allows, nodding at you. Your cardiac output scrolls on his screen, an appropriate orange for the fear driving your vision white. You swallow, hands folding before you as you look down again.

“As you know, I entered into a contract with Nyctos as their property, at the initiation of my first heat cycle.”

You glance to your right, finding Taeyong by his profile burnt black by the red pa on the floor, Doyoung illuminated more clearly by the glow of his A/R glasses.

“I thought he was my fated one,” you say, turning back. “We seemed to have made a bond-match immediately.”

“Seemed to?” The Kim finally speaks.

“Please refrain from speculative language,” Elder Jeong adds. “Did you or did you not bond-match with the Crown Prince? Answer truthfully.”

The pull of the order is more powerful than you expected; you nod in affirmation.

“Yes. We did. But I believed a trial period was necessary to determine if our pairing would be favorable,” you stammer.

“A trial which we understand has resulted in a successful mating, hence cementing your bond,” Elder Park replies. “Is that not correct?”

You shake your head, ears appropriately submissive. “We bond-matched. We . . . mated. But I requested contraceptive treatment prior to our formal marriage ceremony.”

“Contraceptive treatment when your contract is based upon providing heirs?” The fox Kim speaks again, asking questions on behalf of the audience it seems. “How curious.”

You don’t dare to look up past the curve of his lips and fangs, seeing the comments scroll down his screen, mirrored but legible.

“–Claimed by five Alphas. At least one of them should have stuck–”

“Can you illuminate the Syndicate as to why you did not proceed with a definite mating to assure your bond?” Park’s voice breaks the spell of reading through the written condemnations.

“I suspected I would be abandoned as unsuitable,” you say.

That surprises all of them, the three sitting forward. You can hear the murmur of the crowd, now, muffled by the containment field.

“On what grounds would you be found unsuitable?” Elder Jeong asks.

You turn slightly, the head of the haetae above you mirroring the gesture. Taeyong glares at you from the shadows, shaking his head slightly.

“When the Crown Prince refused to mate me and allowed his pack to claim me first,” you say.

“Objection.” Doyoung raises his hand as he steps forward into your purview. “Did you not agree, willingly, to a pack claim?”

“This is not your cross-examination, cousin.” Elder Kim warns, stylus tapping on the table. “But we will allow this clarification.”

You refuse to acknowledge Doyoung, turning away as you let real anger sweep through you.

He approaches the table, pausing to give you a wide berth before bowing stiffly. “My apologies for interrupting. But I feel I must specify there is no legal requirement in the Princess Consort’s contract for exclusivity nor is there a precedent for which order claims may be taken.”

“Did you agree to this pack claim?” Elder Kim’s voice is mildly aghast, if a little amused.

“Answer truthfully.” Jeong repeats.

You pause, mouth opening to close again as you simply nod. You feel an instant sense of relief once the command is fulfilled.

“Your written testimony implies but does not state directly that these claims were forced upon you.” Park says, highlighting the text displayed. “Is it not your duty within a pack contract to submit to the will of your superiors?”

You feel yourself bristle, eyes still lowered. “Is it not the responsibility of a pack leader to protect its weakest members from abuse?”

“The Princess Consort will refrain from directing questions at the tribunal,” Jeong rebuts you, sighing heavily. “Let the tribunal recognize that only a contract owner may submit a charge of abuse towards the persons covered by it.”

The meaning is clear–you are just property, after all.

“It seems this is merely a matter of internal insubordination, then,” Kim laughs. “How delightful.”

“Does the Crown Prince’s counsel wish to submit such a complaint?”

Doyoung stands more stiffly.

“Formally, no,” he explains. “We are here to address internal insubordination, as you said. The tribunal is necessary due to the Crown Prince’s status, not because we recognize the Princess Consort’s complaint.”

“Hypothetically speaking, if the Princess Consort’s claims were legally recognizable,” Elder Kim asks, “how would you respond to this accusation of so-called abuse?”

Your eyes swim with tears as you brace yourself for whatever silver-tongued answer Doyoung will give them, fists clenching.

“The Princess Consort refused to accept her mate's orders to stay confined and made certain solicitations,” he says, clearly uncomfortable with being forced to describe the details. “She tried to turn lesser ranks against the Crown Prince. Eventually she submitted when she found that pack loyalty would not grant her desire to overthrow natural authority.”

“What–?” you begin, forgetting yourself.

“Silence.”

You crouch, mouth clamped shut. So much for maintaining your composure, you think, face burning.

“I think it’s clear enough this contract is in dispute because this omega does not know their place.” Elder Kim says, arms crossing. “Dozens of generations of breeding have fallen thus far.”

“Is it the wish of the Crown Prince and Nyctos to forfeit their contract with the Kims on the basis of this insubordination?” Elder Park asks.

“While we have been disappointed in the Princess Consort’s behavior it hardly warrants contract termination,” Doyoung says. “We believe with adequate training these flaws in character and behavior can be addressed by reasserting pack authority.”

You shake your head, still silenced.

“Do you wish to say something, little Princess?”

You’re surprised enough to look up at the other Vulpine, finding his eyes narrowed in a smug but cold smile.

“The Princess Consort may respond this once,” Jeong says tiredly, waving his hand. “Make your final statement before we dismiss this matter.”

You drop to your knees, desperate.

“Please masters,” you plead, voice shaking. “I cannot bear to spend another moment in these brute's company. His pack abused me and forced claims upon me. I have suffered indignity at almost all of their hands, with few exceptions.”

You expect them to ignore your request but you are mortified when the Elder Jeong brushes off your earnest request with one word and a waved hand.

“Noted. Will Second Prince Lee Minhyung please approach the tribunal.”

You turn to look at Mark stride towards the table, hiding his bewilderment under a soldier’s reserve. It was only fair that he'd be confused.

“Second Prince. Your cousin has requested a transfer of the contract to you, as her closest male relative and preferred mate, with the expectation that you will emancipate her upon transfer,” Elder Jeong says. “Should the trials proceed favorably for you, do you accept this responsibility?”

“You’re the only one,” you explain, quietly, relieved when you aren’t stopped from addressing him. “You can end this.”

A thousand words are spoken in the look shared between you, but most of all you can see something like sympathy there–a welcome sight after this useless political theatre. You see realization dawn on him, eyes wide. He looks up at Doyoung, some subtlety in the exchange spurring him to the obvious answer.

“I accept,” Mark says, looking back down at you.

You close your eyes in relief, exhaling shakily. When you open your eyes again his hand is extended towards you, helping you rise once more from the painful position.

“And will the Crown Prince fight to retain your claim upon your mate?”

The question is directed at Taeyong, who’s already quietly joined Doyoung, tail swishing lazily.

“I have a major investment in her as property, including futures,” he says, turning to look at you with disgust darkening his usually soft features. “While she’s been more than unfavorable in her lack of compliance, no, I will not hand her over without an appropriate response.”

“Then since this is a matter of personal honor, the tribunal recognizes this dispute to fall under traditional methods of arbitration,” Elder Jeong says, slamming the seal down on the table three times.

“The heirs may choose their principals and seconds. As the challenged, the Crown Prince will state his preferences, first.”

Taeyong bows to the tribunal.

“I elect my enforcer, Suh Youngho, until the time in which I may settle my grievance against him for claiming my mate without my permission.”

You’re shocked by this addition and clearly so is Johnny–you don’t dare look up at him but you don’t miss the hesitation on his part to accept his position beside his leader and Doyoung.

“Kim Doyoung will act as second and negotiate the terms on our behalf.”

Elder Jeong nods. “Second Prince. The Princess Consort has elected you as her new owner should your claim be recognized. Who do you request represent you?”

Mark looks at you, eyes twitching with uncertainty as your gaze flicks towards the only reasonable candidate. You don't dare speak, knowing full well that it would undermine Taeyong's plan to present your cousin as a capable leader. Thankfully Jaehyun moves to Mark's side unprompted.

“I elect Jeong Yuno as principal,” he says, relaxing.

“I, Nakamoto Yuta will perform the role of second,” Yuta says, more formal in his speech than you've ever heard.

“That leaves three pack members unaccounted for, with Moon Taeil excused on the basis of his oath of service. Do the heirs wish to elect the two lower ranks to participate on their behalf?”

Mark shakes his head, but you interrupt him, placing a hand on his jacketed arm. “Please, allow me to address a personal grievance.”

Mark’s disappointment is palpable but he nods, following your lead.

“On behalf of the Second Prince,” you say, eyes moving past Jungwoo to your target hanging on the edge of the arena. “I elect Lee Donghyuck to fight on behalf of our honor.”

Haechan glowers at you, but says nothing, joining Mark. Jungwoo winks at you as he passes towards Taeyong's contingent, full lips curled in delight.

“Seconds approach the table for the negotiation and arrangement of terms. The Princess Consort will be retained outside the arena for her safety.”

You bow deeply to the table before turning to Mark’s pack members to present them with the same respect. Before you leave you approach your cousin, placing your hand on his chest, where the five-petaled Clan crest pinned to the navy fabric has already been altered to the same bright blue of the flag beneath your feet.

“Thank you,” you say, embracing him with the same conviction you had hours ago, under extremely different circumstances. At first he stiffens, surrendering when he realizes he’s still on stage.

“You'll do well, for me,” you tell him, hands reaching around him to hold his chest tightly. He relaxes after a few seconds.

“What's even happening right now?” he whispers into the hair between your ears. “Why did you make me–”

“Please, trust me,” you say into his jacket, adding an extra tightness to your hold. “This is for them more than us.”

You stand on your toes to press a kiss to his startled face through the drape of your veil, hands on his shoulders briefly. You don't mistake the way in which he leans forward when you break free, marching away without so much as a glance in the Red direction.

Outside the arena you are directed to the private box behind the judges table already occupied by your uncle and your guards, helped to your seat by the Elder Kim. The fox has shrugged off the formality of the tribunal to return to his natural role as Master of Ceremonies, and you allow him to take your hand even as your skin prickles at the light touch.

Your box is illuminated softly by neon lights, prisms and starbursts of light dancing around you where they catch in the crystals meticulously sewn into your gold dress and Key's suit. The table is strewn with various drinks and rich bite-sized foods, your stomach wrenching at the sight and smell.

“There. Now you look like a proper prize,” Key says, almost a little mocking for the calculated way he adjusts your veil once you’re both seated, his tail curling against your own as he sits beside you. “Excellent work proving yourself the opposite.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t wish to be prized?” you ask, demurely hiding your lips in case anyone can read them through the covering. “Perhaps you can advise on how to be more submissive?”

“Me?” he says, pretending to be wounded. “Though you might make an effort to show some concern for your favorites. The drama here will have no small part in determining the outcome. Perhaps you already know who will win?”

You toss your head. “Not a single one of them has proven worthy to earn my favor.”

“Careful pet,” Tenth Prince interrupts, moving closer on the long booth’s plush seating. “Your negligence towards your mates is not, under any circumstances, a point of pride.”

“Yes, uncle,” you say with a bow of your head.

You sit back as you listen to the conversations around you. Some of the voices are distinctly familiar, court attendees and Syndicate relations alike, all discussing odds of the mis-matched group inside the arena. Screens on the tables display the individual roster as well as points averages.

They may as well be written in a foreign language for all you understand.

“Can you make any sense of the betting?” you lean over to ask Yangyang, watching his ears turn naturally towards yours near the box entrance. He’s more than excited to crouch down next to you to explain, Renjun joining him with an attitude of annoyance.

“See here? Anything involving Suh is getting swept into a parlay. They assume he'll win every match.”

Renjun huffs across from him. “If he has to fight the Crown Prince, there’s no way.”

“You seem so sure,” you say.

“Clearly you've never seen your cousin in battle,” Tenth Prince says. “My dear, have you no sense of decorum? Omegas should be seen, not heard.”

“Apologies,” you say with a dip of your head. “I'm merely nervous.”

You receive another look of warning before he returns to speaking to the blond man that's slipped into the booth beside him–one of a handful of guards dressed impeccably with the Lee Imperial plum blossom on their lapel.

There's no indication that your uncle is agitated but you can sense something is off, fighting to keep your ears from swiveling back and forth as you listen for snippets of that particular conversation, pretending to watch the judges retreat from the floor to their own seats past the barrier.

“That's my cue,” Key says, flicking your ear with his claw upon standing. “Enjoy the bloodshed, my dear.”

There's a muffled wave of applause as the lights adjust once more, the Master spot-lit as he descends to receive the tablet of rankings and details.

“Fascinating,” you hear him say before he looks up to address the crowd, voice amplified for the entire room.

“Welcome honored members of the Imperial Houses and esteemed guests and patrons of our Syndicate. Tonight we present a once in a lifetime event, a demonstration of Alpha justice not seen since the Exodus trials of ‘02. Tonight a pack divides over a mutual claim, their prize the contract ownership of Heavenly Lotus Princess Lee ____, Daughter of the Eastern Sea."

He gestures to the far side of the arena, one of the lower boxes crowded with familiar Syndicate heads.

“On the one side, our accused and challenged–Crown Prince Lee Taeyong, son of the last would-be Imperator, first of his name. He petitioned the Kim clan for ownership of his cousin in the name of preserving their clan line, and yet within a few weeks has been sued for breach of contract by the Princess herself in a submission of formal complaint to the Syndicate’s board, witnessed by our ranks.”

“How do you plead, your highness?”

“By Heaven's design, my honor will be preserved,” Taeyong announces, tail curling as he salutes and then bows, in your direction. “I will win my claim.”

You're surprised to hear applause, a few cheers erupting from the wings across the room.

“Our most popular choice of course, as pack leader and the Lee clan’s worthy Elder. But we have a challenger and champion of our Princess's virtue to fight in her stead tonight, son of our beloved Reverend Mother and the People's Princess, Third of the Samshin, Lee Eunchae and her consort the Fourth Tiger Prince–name not to be spoken.”

“Second Prince Lee Minhyung–your mothers shared a womb–is that what motivates you to defend your closest relation, or do you seek to take what is rightfully your Elder's and claim your Alpha's mate for yourself?”

The provocation is felt within the room, murmurs accompanying a close-in on Mark's face on the screens.

“I'm here to defend the Princess. That's it,” he says, not bothering to bow. “She asked to be freed and I'll do my best to honor her request.”

There's less of a positive response to this announcement, disapproval like a dark cloud settling over the arena. Beside you Renjun makes a sound of affirmation, hiding his grin immediately beneath grim seriousness.

“Befitting the son of a so-called liberator and champion of omega rights. Well then, shall we proceed to the order of duels?”

The Master of Ceremonies continues to break down the code duello, all of which were bitterly familiar to you from the Academy. In the absence of anything resembling a body of justice to address the constant infighting amongst the Alpha progeny of the clancorps the honorable method for resolving conflicts was through combat.

“Any insult to an omega under an Alpha’s care or protection to be considered as, by one degree, a greater offense than if given to the Alpha personally, and to be regulated accordingly.”

“Offenses originating or accruing from the support of omegas' reputations, to be considered as less unjustifiable than any others of the same class, and as admitting of slighter apologies by the aggressor: this to be determined by the circumstances of the case, but always favorable to the omega.”

You watch the screen manifest the series of trials, heart sinking at the sight of the names and portraits listed against one another in opposing blue and red, the choice of weaponry and terms bookended by positive and negative numbers you can only imagine are related to the odds.

Seo Youngho, with a negative score of at least a 100 beyond the other ranks, is pitted against the pack in multiple confrontations. But the one that twists your stomach the most to see is his latestage match against Mark's principal.

Jeong Yuno barely affords a ranking.

“Parlays will close within the next five minutes but action bets will be accepted throughout the event. Please continue to submit those wagers and participate in the voting for our environmental controls and hazards as so generously provided by our board and sponsors. May the punishment match the crime!”

“Environmental hazards?” You hear Yangyang ask, drawing your attention.

“Don’t they have those at the Zoo?” Renjun sighs, giving you a sidelong glance. “He and Zhong live in District Four when they’re off-duty.”

The home of unofficial, underground Alpha matches for Beta entertainment, you know from media rather than experience.

“It's all fake. For show,” Yangyang assures you. “Not like here. Real death matches are outlawed.”

“It’s not always death matches, here,” Renjun adds. “Just . . . most of the time.”

“If the Syndicate sentences you to death, this is the most honorable way to die,” you say quietly.

A fate you wouldn't wish on anyone.

“Is that why you claimed a fatal offense?” Tenth Prince's voice is bitter, but you can hear his veiled smile beneath his fan. “An honorable death?”

“I did,” you nod, feeling Renjun and Yangyang’s actual shock at the news. “Against my first claim and true bonded. The man who scarred me and took my innocence.”

“Who?” Renjun asks, quietly.

You don't answer.

“Child, you certainly never took any of my advice not to play with fire lest you be burned.” Your uncle sighs. “What a waste of a perfectly fine specimen.”

You're not sure which of the two Alphas slated for a death match he means, but you suspect the words are more for the Felid blinking against the lights to try and find your face in the crowd, his own expression unreadable.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you turn away, unable to meet Johnny's eyes even at this distance.

“Prepare yourself to give him a proper send-off when the time comes. We wouldn't want anyone to doubt your conviction in accusing bonded mates of such grave offenses.” Tenth says, placing a clawed hand over your own.

You hear the warning spoken plainly: you had to present as innocent or earn the enmity of the other Syndicate Alphas. Omegas executing their claims was unheard of, a precedent much more dangerous than one of your kind seeking emancipation.

No, their sympathies would never lie with you. But tonight had never really been about what you wanted.

“I do suppose eliminating Suh will resolve the rumors of whether or not Nyctos is led by a foreign-born mongrel rather than your own blood.” Tenth's head of security hasn't spoken until now, voice calm and quiet, but he sounds as bored as your uncle at the spectacle. You fight to keep from reacting, narrowing your eyes at his handsome face.

He smiles at you widely, almost shyly.

“That will be quite enough, Sicheng.” The Prince admonishes him. “Do not imply that our clan can not maintain dominance over its own servants.”

Renjun bristles visibly, eyes darting between the three of you, as if seeing you in a new light.

You can sense the new discomfort of your guards, themselves under the command of said mongrel, now fully aware he's been gravely accused. But this isn't the time or place to explain, not with the beginning of the trials.

“We will now commence the first duel,” Master Key announces, spot-lit from below, along with two others. “May the strongest beast survive.”

“I'm trusting that you three actually have a plan besides my execution,” Johnny says with typical gallows humor, hanging over the wall separating the weapons racks and waiting area to try and make out the stats on-screen.

It’s hard to read if only because there’s a montage just as eye-catchingly bombastic as the Lottery ads played street side, for the first time in history introducing their pack. Whatever media production crew they had operating this event was well-read on Nyctos history, accomplishments and training, as well as family backgrounds by several generations.

Of course they’d still gotten his background wrong–just like Yuta’s–his origin somehow now the Western Free States instead of a Midwest Combined Operational Group enclave south of the Occupied Great Lakes. He’s not surprised considering NUSA didn’t register as much more than a lawless wasteland after the Fifth Corporate war.

“We’re playing it by ear just as much as you suspect,” Doyoung says. “I tried to match rank and ability as closely as possible.”

“By fighting Yuta?” Jungwoo asks, smirking as he leans against the wall. “Good luck.”

“I'll ignore the implication that I might lose,” Doyoung snaps back.

“You must think I would have if you put me against Haechan.” Jungwoo huffs.

“Yes,” Johnny says, turning to meet him levelly, as equally matched as they are in height. “You are going to minimize harm in your fight and accept your punishment. The next time you hesitate to deal directly with a threat against a lower rank you won't be facing them. You'll be fighting me.”

Jungwoo swallows, mouth twisted in a wry smile as he turns away to join Taeyong on the side of the field, where a small crowd of Syndicate-approved media spokespeople are interviewing the pack leader.

“Was this her idea?” he asks, looking up again through the haze of the containment field at that bright spot, your profile visible behind delicately embroidered organza as you nod at something Tenth Prince says.

Doyoung squints, looking around with the implication that nothing is private here. Even so Johnny senses a shift in his aura, less anxious and more approving, as if the Lepid is experiencing a sudden surge of pride.

“Her testimony is entirely her own. She understood what the stakes were more clearly than even I had anticipated.”

“What is her goal, exactly?”

“She truly just wants her freedom,” Doyoung answers with a soft exhale. “By any means necessary.”

Any means. It nags at him deeply, after everything, that your aim would be so simple: mated and bonded Alphas forced to eliminate one another over an accusation of pack disunity. There was a certain poetry in it, in the sense that you'd accounted for every wrong, not-withstanding your own.

I want us to live.

He has a choice. Believe what you'd said in private, in the dark, in the moments when the stakes were truly never higher. Or believe you now, with your doublespeak and carefully-constructed artifice.

No, he thinks. He's lived with Taeyong too long to ever believe royal lies. This had to be the natural conclusion of whatever Imperial scheme had started before you even fell back into their hands. A long, circumnavigating path back to zero.

He watches Yuta lean into Haechan's ear, instructions given to him. Here in the open stage he looks younger than ever, shoulders hunched with hidden tension, sharp eyes scanning the crowds past the lights.

“The first of many of tonight's little squabbles, between our lowest-ranked. According to the Princess Consort there is a private grievance to be settled here, would our combatants wish to make a statement?”

Key's nod is to Jungwoo, deferring to him as first-ranked and the challenged faction. The young Alpha stands tall, clearly in his element, his preferred weapon of a nightstick now tapping against his shoulder in a familiar beat.

“I submit my performance as testament to the honor of my clan and pack, and hope our Princess Consort accepts my apology in advance for my victory,” the younger Kim states. “Would my lady bestow me with a token of her affection? For luck?”

The theatrics are generously received, an attempt made to focus on you in the stands finds you shaking your head, ears back.

“Clearly you have yet to earn your Princess's regard. Oh well, not unexpected for a mutt,” Key laments, earning the laughter of the crowd. “Does her Highness bestow a favor upon her preferred champion?”

Johnny can't help but tense, seeing you turn your focus on the other Alpha. Haechan's posture is abnormally stiff as you produce something from your sleeve. You flash the illustration on the fan's paper before snapping it closed in an elegant fashion, tossing it through the containment field.

It passes through without any register of the security, landing on the stage. Key retrieves the small offering when Haechan makes no effort to take it, flourishing it with a gesture upon standing up, long white-and-silver tail balancing the line of his body.

“Such a sweet token–do I detect a lover's quarrel between you by the sincerity of this gesture met so cruelly?” He gently waves the fan towards his target, letting the Valentine's day colors of the dianthus illustration be seen by all.

Rather than answer Haechan snatches it closed, awkwardly tucking it into his pocket.

“Let's get this over with,” he says, brandishing the yellow-marked electric baton he's chosen.

“Not too hasty, not too hasty,” Key says but the traditional drum beats cascade over the room, lights dimming as the softly illuminated forms of the two men move quietly and slowly around each other, sparks snapping from the active rods of their nightsticks.

It's clear within moments who will have the advantage as the two Alphas circle one another on the glowing field, the floor shifting as applause and cheers take over, almost masking the sound of rushing water that erupts from a moat falling around the central ring.

“We've of course added our own hazards here, but let's explain the rules. No fatalities are allowed with the exception of incidental and accidental. Stun levels have been set to disable only. Leaving the fight area past the moat will be considered an automatic forfeit. May the Heavens provide justice, and may the punishment match the crime.”

A tense quiet settles over the combat zone. It's more than a little surreal for him to witness the two like this–after countless trainings and similar play fights. The two Canids may be unequal in size but Haechan is faster, more aggressive when cornered.

Jungwoo makes no attempt to break his defense, lazily feinting when the other comes too close. Even dimly lit he can see the smile breaking on the Canid’s face, a fear response. The scent suppression here can’t hide the flare of Alpha pheromones, just as sharp as the burnt air smell of electricity.

“Get him in the water,” Doyoung mutters beside him.

Johnny growls instinctively, startling his partner.

“I mean disable the weapon,” he adds.

“I got that.” Johnny moves closer, sniffing at the moat's pure water. No surprise chemicals in that mix, at least.

“They’ll want blood,” he says.

Jungwoo lashes out, finally, quick arcs that miss Haechan's duck and weave away. Jungwoo has to step back quickly when Haechan counterattacks, almost tipping a foot past the breach and stumbling forward away from the edge.

Haechan pounces on the opening, thrusting out with the yellow nightstick.

The crackle of electricity is echoed in a collective gasp as Jungwoo takes a knee, immediately set on from behind with the thin metal rod against his long neck, Haechan dodging careless swipes backwards to pull tighter against his throat.

“Yield,” Haechan growls. Johnny realizes how close to jimseung the youngest already is. That sentiment is matched by the swipe of Jungwoo’s claws across the back of Haechan’s wrist, forearm torn to the sinew as Jungwoo takes advantage of the opening to smash his head backwards into the younger’s face.

Haechan yelps, dropping his weapon as blood gushes from his broken nose. His bloodied fingers slip on the handle of his stun baton as Jungwoo kicks it away lightly, the spin of the handle catching on the moat’s edge a few yards away.

“Oh, did you need that?” Jungwoo taunts, shaking himself loose on the rise up. “Don’t you have fur under that skin? C’mon, show me your teeth.”

“Bastard,” Haechan spits out a gob of congealing blood from beneath the steady flow, favoring his right arm.

“All's fair in love and war,” Jungwoo taunts. He switches his baton between hands as he circles the younger, taking his time. Haechan sweeps a kick to upend him but it’s easily avoided. He tries to seize the grounded end of Jungwoo’s baton next, earning a low-level stun that has the jackal seizing and twitching on the floor.

“Would you really do anything to protect her? Or are you losing so you can keep her all to yourself?” Jungwoo asks, watching patiently for his victim to recover.

“Shut up!” Haechan roars, rising up from the floor to roll the taller man down, defending against a stun with his claws embedded in Jungwoo’s shoulders and neck. The fight on the floor lasts only as long as it takes for Jungwoo to smash his forehead against the other’s face, again, Haechan letting out a gurgling snarl as he lets go–twisting away before the baton can smash down on his shoulder.

Sparks skitter across the floor, arcing across the flickering portion of the broken screen.

Jungwoo laughs even as blood oozes between fingers clamped to his neck, snapping the telescopic end of the baton open again with a spray of red. There’s a sinister quality to the way he’s taunting the younger, more like a cat with its prey.

Na’s influence, Johnny thinks, holding back the order he wants to shout at his subordinate. Even if he had a right to under the circumstances, Jungwoo was taking the act too far.

“Always pretending to be a little puppy nipping at our heels. Did it feel good to get to rut her first?” Jungwoo's sing-song voice is the only sound in the room besides Haechan's wet coughs and frustrated grunts as he tries to pick himself up.

Jungwoo's claws embed in the younger man's scruff, pulling him up, fielding off the weak blows from his left hand and the attempts to kick his legs out from under him. It's clear from the boy's pallor he's lost more blood than expected.

“Fight back,” Doyoung whispers. Johnny breathes, finally, realizing the air has left his lungs minutes ago.

“Fight back, kid,” he murmurs.

“Did you tell her you loved her? Or did you take what you could get and run away with your tail tucked between your legs?”

“I’ll kill you,” Haechan whines pitifully, pummeling Jungwoo’s wiry arm as he’s dragged towards the edge.

“Do you think you have it in you?”

Jungwoo doesn’t go for the final blow immediately, waiting until Haechan has been released and made it to his knee to push forward with a direct attack to the chest, just a tap but reinforced by the full unload of the stun.

Haechan tips back, paralyzed, crashing into the waters as the crowd erupts violently with a mix of cheers and boos.

“Did you plan that?” Johnny asks, icy rage in his tone.

Doyoung shakes his head, swiping a hand over his face. “No.”

You haven’t even realized you were standing, horror and pain blotting out any thought in your head–to the point you don’t even realize you’re being addressed.

“What's the verdict?” Jungwoo looks up at you, drenched in gore, his clawed thumb held horizontally from his closed fist. The crowd erupts, chants alternating between the desire to drown or electrocute the loser while messages and emotes flash across the privacy screens of the upper booths.

You watch the Canid move at his leisure around the field, even taking the time to dip his bloodied arm in the water to cleanse it.

“Such a young life, and a fellow Lee,” Key says with faux concern. “Would you really see this child consigned to death?”

There's a weighted pause as you regard the scene, as you lift your head and wipe your tears away. You lift your own hand in answer, thumb held upright in a mirrored gesture to the one before, shaking in the spotlight.

“I would have mer–” your words are cut clean by a horrible sound, Haechan's yell more howl as he finally pitches forward from the water, a yellow rod between his teeth. Jungwoo can only brace himself so much with the impact to his gut, pitched into the void beside him.

He has a moment to surface, scrabbling for the edge–

“NO!” you shout.

“No mercy,” Haechan repeats the crowd's line, activating the device and pitching it into the water below his feet.

Screams erupt in the sudden darkness and the spider-webbed fingers of lightning reaching halfway around the dark pool, the central light extinguished with a horrible snap and a flicker.

By the ringing in your ears you’re sure the scream was from you, hands grasping at you as you take advantage of the darkness and chaos to run.

Anguished murmurs follow, medics rushing in to the arena as the overhead lights illuminate the stage, water bleeding away from the rising floor.

What little of the screen still working is darkened by the arterial blood pooling around the figure who’s collapsed in the middle of it. Haechan holds his dripping head in his hands, healing slowly.

You make it to the edge of the arena, held back by Imperial guards as you reach for the body being pulled from the receding water by uniformed medics, shirt torn open to place electrodes on his unmoving chest.

“No,” you weep. “Please. Why?”

The defibrillation is heard throughout the room, beeps and shocks repeating until Jungwoo arcs upwards with the kick, twitching back to life with a matching signal from the monitors strapped to him.

You're finally able to wrest out of your captor's hold, falling ungracefully at the Alpha's side as his mouth is cleared of blood-tinged phlegm, unconsciously reaching to clear the damp hair from his forehead.

“Why?!” you repeat, louder.

It was supposed to be me, you think.

“You did this,” Haechan says, bitterly. The damage to his face is severe, both eyes blackened, claw marks leaking rivulets of red.

“You didn't have to–you didn't have to kill him!” Your sobs are amplified over the same frequency, keening along with the breaths rasping out of Jungwoo as he slips back into unconsciousness.

“YOU MADE ME!” Haechan shouts at you, making the whole room go still.

The Canid weakly pulls your token from its place in his saturated clothing, tossing it back on the ground to smear in the blood-dyed water. His eyes find you, finally, hollowed of everything human.

“I challenge you, next,” he says.

[previous] [next] [check the masterlist before you proceed]

#agtbtb #nct 127 fic #nct x reader #nct fic #nct 127 fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct omegaverse au #nct fanfic

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monimccoythings · 4 months

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Wedding crashers part 1

I'm going to make this a pre-Cocoyashi village AU. This may have several parts. I haven't decided yet the length.

tagged: @karma-reader

So, you couldn't say you were entirely on board with this wedding. Your parents came from one of the richest families in all East Blue, and of course, they just wanted to boost up their prestige by marrying one of their children into another of the biggest families.

Your would be suitor was a despicable man, cruel, violent, greedy, snobbish and frivolous that only saw you as another trophy to add to his collection. You found him disgusting. As you stood in front of the mirror in your wedding dress your mind was brainstorming different ways to run away and never be found again.

How could you have expected that luck would be mostly on your side that day, when an entire crew of fishman pirates stormed the wedding venue, to the horror of the guests.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟

After suffering those humilliating defeats at the hands of a human Vice-Admiral and his own sworn brother, Arlong decided that the only way he could fulfill his ambitions and desires of revenge against humanity was settling down in the weakest sea of all.

He wanted to start big, he wanted the humans there to know fear. So when the annoucement of a wedding between two of the most influential and richest families was revealed, he saw his opportunity.

The hired security team stood no chance against his brothers' raw strength. Soon they were all at their mercy. As they took everything they wanted and more, Arlong took a walk around the opulent halls of the wedding venue. Humans always liked to flaunter their power and wealth to the world, so disgusting.

At first, the only reason he had come there was to steal and scare the humans into submission. But when he opened the door to your room and saw you there in your wedding dress, looking all ravishing and innocent, a more diabolical plan started forming in his head.

"My, my, what a beautiful little present we have here. All ready to be unwrapped." You took a couple of steps backwards, and he followed, his smile, full of sharp teeth turning predatory. Without warning, he scooped you up and hauled you over his brawny shoulder like a sack of potatoes, completely ignoring your feeble kicks and screams.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟

Okay, maybe you had spoken too soon when you had said you would do anything to get out of that wedding. As the pirate captain dragged you back to his ship, you felt the fishmen's hate filled stares and wondered how you would get out of that situation alive.

The captain roughly threw you in the floor and sat in what looked to be a throne. You glared at him with as much bravery as you could muster, despite your body trembling like a leaf. He let out a low chuckle. "Ah, Princess, don't be looking at me like that. It's really nothing personal, just business. If you are a good girl and your beloved groom and parents play their part, you'll be out of here in a sec."

"W-what do you want?" He seemed to ponder that question for a few seconds. "What do I want? Money, power, respect... Aren't those the things everyone desires even if they don't tell? I want a bargain, they pay the price I set, and I give you back in return. Everyone wins. I get the money, and you go back to your perfect fairytale wedding."

Cold sweat formed on your back at the possibility of returning to that horrible man that would be tied to you forever. "No! Please just set me free, I don't want to return. I'll pay you anything, more than they could ever pay you!"

He looked momentarily surprised at your words. But his eyes hardened again. "I'm sorry, Princess. But I don't go back on a deal, ever." With a movement of his head he signaled a manta ray fishman to get you. "Take her to her new chambers. Oh, and don't be too rough, we don't want our guest to break a nail, do we?"

As the manta ray man forcefully dragged you away, you could hear his booming laughter echoing in the halls. What would become of you??

#arlong x reader #arlong #one piece #one piece x reader

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bookshelf-in-progress · 4 months

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A Guide to the Stories Posted to This Blog in 2023

Fairy Tale Retellings

Without Words

Word Count: 2,117

Point of view: First-person present tense

Summary: A retelling of "The Six Swans" focusing on the moment when the heroine's refusal to defend herself from murder charges forces her husband to sign her execution order.

Purity of Mind

Word Count: 679

Point of view: Third-person past tense

Summary: A retelling of "Bluebeard" in which the husband returns home to find that his wife doesn't remember marrying him.

The Golden Shoe

Word Count: 1,333

Point of view: Third-person past tense omniscient narrator

Summary: A gender-flipped retelling of "Cinderella", written in fairy tale style, about a princess who must search to find the man she loves with only a shoe to prove his identity.

Length of Years

Word Count: 1,596

Point of view: Third-person past tense

Summary: A "Rapunzel" retelling where Rapunzel doesn't escape the tower, and has been waiting a very long time for her prince to return.

Loving Memory

Word Count: 5,480

Point of view: First-person present tense

Summary: A retelling of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" and "Alleleirauh" where a prince must uncover the mystery surrounding a strange woman who needs his help to find her lost love.

Original Fantasy

In Chains

Word Count: 1,373

Genre: Non-magical fantasy

Point of view: Third-person past tense

Summary: In an occupied nation, a priest who conducts illegal marriage ceremonies meets a young man whose request for help may endanger his mission.

A Song of Starlight

Word Count: 3,564

Genre: Non-magical fantasy in a world much like Victorian Europe

Point of view: Third-person past tense

Summary: A violinist falsely accused of the theft of a star finds that losing his position offers an unexpected opportunity to bring his music to a different stage.

Stars and Shadows: A Fairy Tale

Word Count: 2,021

Genre: Original fairy tale in a contemporary setting

Point of view: Second-person future tense

Summary: Going outside on a snowy night provides an opportunity to protect a mysterious child from the dangers of the dark.

The True Story: An Epistolary Novelette

Word Count: 9,955

Genre: Contemporary magical realism

Point of view: First-person epistolary with four narrators

Summary: After returning home to care for her injured grandmother, a woman's hunt for a book from her childhood puts her in contact with a shop that claims to provide books that exist nowhere else in our universe.

The Sylph in the Storm

Word Count: 2,847 (story unfinished)

Genre: Historical fantasy set in 1880s Canada

Point of view: First-person past tense

Summary: After a mermaid is lost in a storm at sea, her human guardian receives help from an unexpected source.

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #if you were wondering this comes to a yearly word count of 31005 #or if we cut out the golden shoe because that's a repost from previous years #it's 29669 words

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tiny-breadcrumbs · 5 months

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I think Nanyin royalty AU will be a wild power struggle. Full of cutthroat unhinged conspiracy and backstabbing left and right.

1. There is the mild mannered and quite sickly crown prince Li Xiangxian. But no, this is not about him, let that man enjoy his peace.

2. This is about the martial arts genius second prince, Li Xiangyi. That typical imperial brother who lead jurisdiction part of the palace, and basically the strongest fortress in front of the well-loved crown prince.

3. Rumor has said Li Xiangyi learn from the elusive master Qi Mushan since the very young age and inherited the famous yangzhouman.

4. The crown prince, true to his soft hearted nature, once saved a young kid and bring him back to be his little brother study partner. That kid will grown up as Shan Gudao

5. On the side, as a cousin part of the throne is the Jiao family who acted as a door keeper to Nanyin more mystical artefact. The daughter of that family is one who born with ambition to rule and eyes for the crown. She play so many tangled thread behind the palace wall.

6. Shan Gudao is someone that has been planted by that family to keep an eye about the inner court. Greed will blown his ego out of proportion and later he will joined Jiao Liqiao in her coup.

7. Qiao Wanmian is an administrative agent that work under Li Xiangyi. A capable woman that everyone think will marry in as a princess consort. But she know better than to step into court politic.

8. The palace actually in correspondence with Tianji Hall about their mechanism and exchanging knowledge about trap room blue print. The second prince find their young master a cute kid and take a liking to him but unable to get too close because He Xiaohui kept him in a polite (wary) distance.

9. The Jiao family regularly purchasing teenager from Di Fortress under the palace order to make a soldiers. Unbeknown to the inner court, only half the kid ended up in the military camp while the other half being used as a lab rat for the new technique they developed.

10. Di Feisheng is one of those that climb high enough to be stationed practically as a bodyguard for Li Xiangyi. But its not like Li Xiangyi need a bodyguard at first so he make Di Feisheng as his sparring partner more often than not.

11. Somewhere along that, the comfortable nickname of A-Fei begin to stick.

12. Sometimes when investigating near the border, where people doesn't really care of fear the court, Li Xiangyi will use the name Lianhua, a mere travelling merchant with his servant A-Fei (who always scare the shit out everyone with his glare).

13. Li Xiangyi with all his brilliance, once trust people so easily with naive innocence to see good. Thus unable to sniff the first step of rebellion brewing near the inner court.

14. The height of the conflict started when Yun Biqiu, one of Li Xiangyi men, fall for the sweet tongue of the Princess. From there on, poison and slander flying around here and there in a broad daylight. Creating chaos from the inside. A first step into the descend of the dynasty.

15. Fang Duobing left his wheelchair behind and grow stronger. He start to exchange a monthly secret letter with the second prince.

16. The flag of rebellion reach their highest when the fight occur in the inner palace. Many live lost that day and the second prince gone missing after poisoned by his own subordinate.

17. Di Feisheng got tangled up in the neatly orchestrated spot to make him look like he is on Jiao Liqiao side. A small mercy, said the princess, because I want him.

18. Li Xiangyi unfortunately believe that.

19. It is with a burning rage and thirst for revenge a letter came into Di Feisheng hand. And he know enough of his prince penmanship to rush as fast as a lightning to the east sea. He came to retrive and protect the prince. Not knowing the man will ask for his head. Nor expect the prince will not see where his loyalty has been placed long ago.

20. Only weeks later, Tianji Hall will receive the news and proceed to cut ties with the new court. Fang Duobing never receive that month reply from Li Xiangyi.

00. This maybe end in the east sea to close the chapter of power struggle and start a new book of quack doctor Li Lianhua from Jianghu. Who knows. Certainly not the people in Nanyin. Not Jiao Liqiao either.

#Maybe its years in the future when Li Lianhua will knock on the gate of Tianji Hall and asked (kidnapped) xiaobao to join his adventure #I will go into dfs whump where he will exhaust his inner energy to repel the effect of the poison from lxy body #then got captured by jiao liqiao #maybe she broke him or he isolated his mind willingly to escape the disgust #and thats why when llh stumble upon him once again he will not havr his memory #fang xiaobao will be so done with all the awkward silent and blank stare and takes matter into his own hand #I vote for him to shove those two into bed and told them to just talk or fuck #someone pls write this #mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #li lianhua #fang duobing #Nanyin AU

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zoros-onigiri · 8 months

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He was panicking, spitting out anything that came to mind that could possibly spare his life for even a second longer. Internally spitting curses at the shithead nobody currently pointing a blade at his forehead. Is this really how Buggy the clown was going to meet his end? Nothing but a head with his body tied to a fucking tree of all things, taken down and skewered through the face by some weasely little prick?

The clown clenched his eyes tight when the kid raised his arm to run his sword through Buggy’s skull, not wanting to witness the pathetic death he was moments away from. That is until the much recognised sound of a dagger meeting flesh and the deathly grunt was heard. He gave a deep sigh upon seeing the weapon embedded in the side of the kid’s neck, looking around to find who had saved his life. Genuine surprise when he saw the pretty face approaching him, coupled with a swell of pride that of all people the Siren had seemingly gone out of her way to have found him and save his neck.

“Buggy the clown.” Addie stood in front of him with a hand on her hip as she looked down at him, “I’ve spent a great deal of time searching for you. You should count yourself lucky I didn’t leave you to die for the trouble you’ve caused me.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate you killing that little shit, toots, but why are you out here in the middle of nowhere looking for me? Buggy gave a small grunt when Addie knelt to grab him by the top of the head, holding him up eye to eye.

“I want to join you.”

Buggy was struck silent for the briefest of moments, practically salivating over thoughts filling his brain of how utterly fortunate he was to have somehow attracted the attention of the woman who has single-handedly beaten countless men, who had managed to sneak up and kill a man from 20 feet.

"You know my reputation, Darling, and you are well known through out the East Blue. The two of us together? We could have the sea cowering to us, anything we've ever dreamed." The corner of Addie's lips curled in exhilaration.

"Well now, how could I refuse a flashy offer like that?" Buggy returned the devious smile with a laugh, "I like you, princess. Of course you can join my crew."

With a chuckle and a wink, the Siren held him against her chest when she stepped out to return his much missed body, a position much appreciated by the man as he found himself unable to tear his eyes away.

"Nice tits."

"Thank you."

#addie santine #buggy the captain of my heart 🤡❤️#buggy the clown #buggy x oc #buggy #one piece #one piece anime #one piece live action #opla #addie rambles 💝

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aranea-princeps · 2 months

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THE TRAGEDY OF THE FUJIHARA

Main Family

The Son of the Serpent

ㅤFujihara Daisuke is the great grandson of Yukiko; his father, Asahi, son of Fuyu, took up the passion that his great grandmother had for the sea. Once Daisuke was old enough, he took control of the ancestral ship that Yukiko had built and sailed upon: the Sapphire Serpent, a large, long galleon designed to look almost serpentine. While his younger sister, Ayame, left to explore on her own- winding up on an infamous pirate crew when she was eighteen as a skilled sharpshooter. Kotetsu remained home; the middle child, the duty-bound son. He sat upon the throne, the Emperor of Janoshima. He was kind; a gently-spoken man who saw the good in people. A docile, sleeping boa, as he was described.

ㅤDaisuke himself was notorious, known as the Son of the Serpent due to a twisting tattoo of a snake that began on the left side of his neck and coiled down the length of his body, the tail ending on the inside of his right ankle. His bounty was two hundred million at the time of his death, but before he died, he’d made a lasting impression upon his children- for better or worse. Daiyū was his bride, a woman of minor nobility who had set her eyes upon Daisuke and decided that yes, she was to be his bride.

ㅤDaiyū was blinded by ambition; she was never cut out to be a mother, never having had a nurturing bone in her body. After their passing, Ayame has mentioned that Daisuke hadn't been cruel before Daiyū entered his life. She stripped every bit of kindness from him, creating the monster that attacked his own children and thought himself a God amongst men.

How terribly wrong he had been. Or perhaps he was right, for even mighty Kronos was defeated by his own children.

The Twins

ㅤHis first born were a pair of identical twins: Kiyomi born three minutes and twenty seven seconds before Kiyoko. His pride and joy, twin girls who bore the same birthmarks that he himself had: a dot beneath either eye. They came with the crew while traveling the seas. The trouble came, however, with Daiyū, and that lack of maternal love. She refused to breastfeed, refused to hold her daughters for longer than necessary. Instead, the ship's seamstress, Milorad, took care of them when Daisuke was busy with his captain duties.

The Son

ㅤThree years later came Junpei, the first and only son born to Daiyū and Daisuke. He was a strong baby, with a strong pair of lungs. Daisuke caught Daiyū at one point holding her hand over his mouth to try and cease his crying.

ㅤHe took him from her, and cared for him himself.

The Problem Child

ㅤThree years pass. Daisuke's bounty now sits at one million Berries. Daiyū, pregnant once more, delivers Mizuki two weeks early. Mizuki is born silent; they fear she was stillborn before she drew in a large breath and screamed so loud, Milorad swears all of the East Blue could hear her. Junpei complained, asked why she was screaming so much, to which Daisuke replied that she simply had a lot to say.

ㅤ No one has ever spoken of how Daiyū fell into a manic state after giving birth and threatened to throw Mizuki overboard, for she saw a serpent's gaze within her child.

ㅤThey ported in Janoshima for a year, giving Daiyū time to calm, to rest- and for the children to meet their cousins.

The Princess

ㅤAyame had been separated from her brothers for fourteen years, having joined Gol D. Roger's Crew under the moniker of

the Single-Shot Snake. She held a now-legendary talent for taking out her targets with one shot- perfectly aimed and planned. She met her husband, Yusuke, while with the crew; they married a year after, when she was just turning twenty. Together, over the years, she had had four children, as well; Mai was a year younger than Kiyomi and Kiyoko, only five. Jun'Ichi was three and a half, and the twins, Itsuki and Izumi, were just under a year old. However, she admitted that Roger had told her to go home- to live her life with the treasure she now had, both literally and figuratively. She agreed, and parted ways after a large celebration with the crew, and returned to Janoshima. It worked well, since Kotetsu's health was rapidly declining. Someone would need to be there for him.

ㅤShe didn't know that, in four and a half years, she would be witnessing the execution of her Captain.

Dangers of a Clutch

ㅤAfter a year away from the sea, Daisuke returned to the water with his family. Unlike Mizuki's siblings, she was wild from the moment she could walk- or, rather, run. She was brought onto the Sapphire Serpent, spending her infancy and early childhood in the care of the Crew rather than her parents, who claimed that they had no time to deal with a baby. More often than not, Kiyomi and Kiyoko would be the ones watching over Junpei and Mizuki. By the time she was five, Daiyū was pregnant with what would be her final child.

ㅤThe pregnancy was difficult, more so than any of her others. Her health took a toll; she became frail, feverish. For the first time, the Fujihara had a weak point. Exactly at nine months pregnant, tragedy struck the ship.

ㅤFujihara Mizuki was kidnapped by three men who mutinied against Daisuke.

ㅤFor three weeks, Mizuki was kept in a shack on an island, well hidden- until one day, Junpei stumbled upon her in the shack while the other members of the crew fought. He carried her out, screaming for help. Mizuki was shell shocked; silent, eyes wide. She did not speak for the next six months. The relief of having Mizuki returned triggered Daiyū into labor-

ㅤIn which she nearly lost her life.

The Spider in the Snake Den

ㅤThey returned to Janoshima once more a month after Suma was born. She was a frail baby, underweight and shrieking at all hours. Daiyū, at her wits end, attempted to kill her own daughter before Yusuke and Ayame intervened, stopping her. Ayame took Suma in as her own, afterwards. Daisuke argued at first before Ayame threatened to simply keep all of his children if he could not care for them and his crazed wife.

ㅤHe relented.

The Birth of the Golden Age

ㅤTwo months later, the family traveled to Loguetown to witness the execution of Gol D. Roger and the birth of the Golden Age of Piracy.

ㅤAt age thirteen, Kiyomi and Kiyoko were given a choice: a normal birthday celebration, or to enter into the Fujihara as official members. This confused them- they were already members of the Fujihara, why would they need to be officiated? Daiyū cooed that they needed to show their pride and their loyalty to the family. They agreed- and thus, the first tongue splitting occurred.

ㅤJunpei and Milorad cared for the girls while their tongues healed. Milorad was disgusted with Daiyū, though they dared not show it. This was not the last time; Junpei, Mizuki, and Suma each went through the same procedure on their birthday, albeit against their will.

ㅤIt's no wonder why Mizuki turned out the way she did.

ㅤSuma would return to the ship when she was seven years old, having been raised with Ayame's own children. Ayame trained both her and Mai in the art of sharpshooting. Suma was a natural, picking it up with ease. Even at seven years old, she had better aim with a gun than any of her siblings. Daisuke brought her on board, and her life of comfort- of being treated as a princess- vanished.

ㅤDaisuke was no longer a loving father. He was cold, cruel; treating his children as if they were merely members of his crew and not his flesh and blood. Over the next six years, the children would harden and change. Abuse of different forms, their lives placed on the line, and the struggle of living on a ship molded them.

The Death of a Serpent

ㅤWhen Mizuki was eighteen, everything changed. Daisuke and Daiyū had branded them all, quite literally. The letter ‘P’ on the back of their left wrists, labeling them as Pirates so that they could never turn on him. Daisuke had grown paranoid over the years, a madness whispered to him by Daiyū's own paranoia.

ㅤTwo nights after her eighteenth birthday, Mizuki snuck into the bedroom of her parents. Kiyomi had told her that something needed to be done- they were in danger. And Mizuki took it upon herself to take care of this problem- by climbing into bed silently, straddling her father's chest, and driving a knife into his head and chest twenty-four times. Daiyū had woken in the midst of it, had tried to run, but Mizuki acted faster. She trained with the crew, she was strong, fast, could contort her body due to an unnatural level of flexibility and strength. She took hold of an ivory statue Daiyū had on her nightstand- and slammed it into her temple, the bone crumbling beneath the blow. She died instantly.

ㅤBelow them, Kiyoko had held Suma against herself, whispering to her that everything was fine. Covered her ears with her hands and rocked her, trying to block out the horrifying, animalistic screaming that was coming from Mizuki as she let loose upon their parents.

Changing Tides

ㅤKiyomi took charge of the ship, afterwards. Half of the crew left at the next port, declaring Kiyomi as a traitor- mutiny, they stated. She killed three of the loudest men, slit their throats with the legendary blade, Mamushi. She herself had already become a known, notorious pirate and Swordsman- Lady Mamushi, with a bounty of five hundred thousand. It took one month before Junpei had had enough. He had Suma, had packed her bag- before Kiyoko had found them. The altercation went as follows:

“Now, what are you planning on doing, brother dearest?”

“Kiyoko-... You know what happened. You know it's wrong-”

“Wrong? I don't know what you mean. Look at us- we're finally the ones in charge! How is that wrong?”

“... I'm going to take the lifeboat, and Suma, and we are leaving.”

“I can't let you do that.”

“Kiyo, don't-”

“KIYOMI, HE'S TAKING SUMA!”

ㅤWhat followed was Kiyomi forcing Junpei off the ship to swim to he mile to port. Suma remained on the ship- thirteen years old, tongue and wrist still healing, watching as her escape swam away with tears in his eyes mirroring her own.

ㅤThree months later, Mizuki and Kiyomo get into a fight that ends with Mamushi pressed to Mizuki's throat and the promise of spilled blood singing in the air. Mizuki jumped ship; Kiyomi would then drop Kiyoko at Janoshima to take the Throne that had been left empty after Ayame returned to the sea ( with the promise of Kiyoko taking over ).

ㅤAyame's own children had split over the years. Itsuki and Izumi joined Kiyomi when she made port at Janoshima, joining her crew. Jun'Ichi had vanished when he was sixteen, off to find his own adventure. Mai had left five years ago to join Whitebeard's Crew under the First Division as a Sharpshooter. Kai sailed with Ayame and her crew on the Vermillion Viper, someplace in the West Blue.

ㅤShortly after leaving, Mizuki takes on the name of the Deadman's Daughter and her bounty rises from a mere few thousand to encroaching on two million after stealing the Hebi Hebi no Mi Model: Viper fruit from a Marine ship- and then downing the ship.

ㅤOne year before the forming of the Straw Hats, Mizuki joins the ranks of the Buggy Pirates, quickly securing herself as a member of the crew.

ㅤSuma became known as the Little Spider; the youngest of her siblings, a slippery little thing. She had grown into herself well, her talents as a Sharpshooter extended further into other explosives. Gunpowder packed boxes that when thrown, she would shoot, causing an explosion mid-air that stunned and sent shrapnel spiraling. It was when she turned eighteen that she and Kiyomi got into an altercation that left Kiyomi chumming the water-

ㅤand shoving her overboard.

ㅤSuma managed to just barely escape, swimming to shore with her two bags. In one, a map; in another, gold and money she'd stolen from the ship. For three years, Suma wandered on her own from place to place, buying passage via labor on merchant or smaller pirate ships, offering her skills to those who needed them. Repairing the ratlines with her odd knack for Weaving, manning cannons.

ㅤShe runs into trouble at Nanohana, where she attempts to pickpocket a blonde man who had fallen under charm rather quickly, only to get caught by a green haired man- and then pulled onto their ship while they escaped from the Marines. She learns their names: Rorornoa Zoro, Blackleg Sanji, Nami, Nefertari Vivi, Usopp, Tony Tony Chopper, and Monkey D. Luffy-

ㅤthe Straw Hat Pirates.

#𝓟𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼: [ Fujihara Family ]#lore post.#tw: child abuse #tw: pregnancy #tw: murder

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saintsenara · 1 year

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what is the origin of your pen name & ao3 name?

thank you very much for the ask, anon! what a lovely question.

asenora is a mythical breton princess, who supposedly lived in the early middle ages in the city of brest. according to legend, she was falsely accused by her husband of adultery and thrown into the sea in a barrel - even though she was pregnant - and left to drown. however, owing to the providence of god [naturally...] the barrel didn't sink but floated from brittany to cornwall, where asenora was visited by an angel and helped to give birth to a son among the waves.

she then washed up on the cornish coast, where she founded the village of zennor, before she and her son - the fifth-century saint st budoc, also venerated in brittany and cornwall - continued on to ireland. the parish church in zennor is named st senara's [hence my name on tumblr] in her honour.

but there's another version of the story - found in legends surrounding st budoc - that asenora didn't receive the help of an angel, but the help of st brigid, and that she didn't wash up in cornwall, but in waterford, in south-east ireland.

i am an irishwoman myself, but i went to university in england, and did the early years of my medical training in england, before eventually returning back across the sea. by the mysterious machinations of fate, i ended up living near to zennor during this training, and the legendary link between cornwall and ireland found in the place always pleased me enormously, especially on the days when i would have liked to jump in a barrel and be carried home as well.

[zennor has a second major legend connected to it - that of the mermaid of zennor, a beautiful woman with a captivating singing voice who used to attend mass at st senara's. in a deviation from many other mermaid-related folktales in seafaring communities, the mermaid of zennor isn't considered an ill-omen in the village, but an upstanding member of the parish. st senara's church contains the famous 'mermaid chair' - a fifteenth-century wooden pew with a carving of a mermaid upon it. that's the explanation for the quote from song to the siren on my blog header...]

#asks answered #general chat

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chaikachi · 7 months

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Hi, Chai! I've been following you for a bit, mostly for the RG content, and I've recently seen you talk about your other non-RWBY interests when I realized that I'm really curious on what other media do you like? (Be it shows, movies, music, games, books, etc.)

Oughh this is a very good question. I'll put them under a read more cause I have a feeling I took this question too literally and it might get just a little bit long because of that. 💦

I'm generally very passive with the media I consume and only draw as much RWBY as I do because RG has had me in a vice grip since V8E1 and isn't letting go anytime soon. 💀 But I do engage with lots of other stuff too! This isn't an exhaustive list, just ones I like lots or re-watch often enough.

Anime

I probably watch this stuff more than anything else. My favourite of all time is probably The Eccentric Family, both seasons. The art direction and the messages of the story just hit very hard for me and I re-watch it pretty much every year. My second favourite is Kekkai Sensen (i prefer the first over second season as they switch directors).

As for others enjoy:

Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood

Silver Spoon

Yona of the Dawn

Snow White with the Red Hair

Kyousogiga (recommend if you liked Kekkai Sensen)

A Lull in the Sea

Chaika the Coffin Princess [Now why does that name sound so familiar 🤔]

Anohana

Been really enjoying this season's shows and am looking forward to the Winter 2024 lineup (Dungeon Meshi and Yubisaki to Renren at the same time!!)

Shows

Dragon Prince

The Owl House

Good Omens

Games

Nier (2010),

Transistor

Pyre

Zelda Series (Ocarina of Time & Spirit Tracks are my favourites)

Nier: Automata

Honorary mentions to Grand Chase (an old MMO i used to be obsessed with), Avalon Code (a niche DS game that I really liked), Fire Emblem Awakening (a classic) and Animal Crossing (that I played like it was my day job in 2020).

Movies

Can only think of two live actions and the rest are animated/anime 😭

Stardust

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

Howl's Moving Castle

HTTYD (1 & 2)

Kubo and the Two Strings

The Wind Rises

From Up on Poppy Hill

Penguin Highway

Books

I don't read as much as I did when I was a kid, but my top three are probably Runemarks, Howl's Moving Castle, and Stardust (I like the last two a lot because I liked their movies).

Webcomics

Used to be really into these and wanted to write my own before Webtoon kinda... gentrified the entire industry. But hey, I can still talk about some of my favourites!

Shaderunners (queer heist in a roaring 20sish setting)

Witchy (queer south East Asian inspired fantasy adventure)

Kochab (sapphic story between a skier that gets lost and meets a fire spirit I think? It's final updates are going up this month!)

Lady of the Shard (all time favourite. queer polyam lovestory between a goddess and her acolyte. Complete. I reread it every year, I love it so much. The rest of the authors work is also great, you might know them from Cucumber Quest).

Then lastly...

Music

I mostly listen to indie/folk more than anything else, with a bit of jazz/R&B thrown in for flavour. Favourite artists are probably:

San Fermin

Flock of Dimes/Wye Oak

Of Monsters & Men

Maggie Rogers

Florence & the Machine

Paper Kites

Matthew and the Atlas

Halsey

This list obviously isn't exhaustive because I have the memory of a goldfish but those are the highlights that came to mind at least.

Sorry for the long list, but thank you for the question!! It was fun to put all these in one place.

#ask #asks #anon #anono #long post

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melanielocke · 1 year

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Book recommendations: retellings part 1

I love a good retelling. So much so that I had to split the retelling section in two, possibly three parts or there'd be too many books to fit into a picture properly. I love getting creative with old and familiar stories, while other books retell stories I wasn't that familiar with at all.

I'm starting with Six Crimson Cranes and the Dragon's Promise

The first book is an East Asian inspired retelling of the swan princess, I'm not sure if the second book is a retelling of anything. If you don't know the swan princess, the basic premise is that the evil stepmother sorceress turns the princess' brothers into swans and she has to find a way to undo the curse.

The series follows Shiori, the princess and youngest child of the emperor. In Kiata, magic is locked away and forbidden, but Shiori was born with magic and had to keep is hidden away. At the day of her betrothal ceremony, she loses control and catches the attention of her stepmother Raikama, who uses her own dark magic to turn her brothers into cranes and curses Shiori so that when she speaks one of her brothers will die. Voiceless and alone, she has to find her brothers and undo the curse.

These books really feel and read like a fairytale, and while I am not super familiar with the swan princess I like how elements of the fairytale are woven into the book. Pun intended, because weaving a net is a big part in both the book and the original fairytale. My favorite part is Raikama, the stepmother, and villain of the first book. She's a very complex character and I loved learning more about her and why she cursed Shiori and her brothers.

The editions I have of this book are absolutely gorgeous, and I believe they're the UK edition hardcovers. I'm not sure if people in North America will be able to find these editions, and the US edition has a different cover.

Next up is the Girl who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh

This is a retelling of a Korean fairytale that I'm not familiar with, and the story itself reads like a fairtale very similar to Six Crimson Cranes. I'd say if you like this one, you'll like Six Crimson Cranes and vice versa.

Mina comes from a land plagued by deadly storms and the people believe the sea god, who was once their protector, has turned against them. Every year they choose a girl who is thrown into the sea in the hope that she turns out to be the sea god's true bride and will appease him. This year, Mina's brother's girlfriend is chosen to be the sacrifice and her brother goes after her to save her, which could result in his death. So Mina jumps into the sea instead, sacrificing herself. She finds herself in the spirit world, the world of gods, a place where a mortal like her can't survive long. There, she finds out the sea god is sleeping, and the storms won't end until he wakes. But not everyone wants the sea god to wake up, and they will do anything to stop Mina.

I think one of the best aspects of this book is the slowly developed dislike to romance with Mina's love interest, who is not the obvious choice here, and I love the mystery behind what happened to the sea god and the eventual explanation.

Like with Six Crimson Cranes, the edition shown on the picture is a UK edition with a different cover from the US one.

So this is Ever After counts as a retelling of King Arthur, but it is really more of a rom com in a medieval fantasy setting.

The story takes place after the main quest where Alek pulls a magic sword from a stone (which did not come pre sharpened) with which he beheaded the evil sorcerer king (rather clumsily).

To make sure another evil ruler doesn't take over while they go rescue the princess, Alek temporarily assumes the crown at his mage best friend Matt's advice. Only it turns out the princess is already dead and Alek is stuck as king now.

Worse, there is no way to undo his coronation and if he doesn't get married before his next birthday he'll fade away. Alek doesn't want to marry just anyone, and since he has a little time left, he decides to test potential romantic connections to all this quest companions with Matt's help using common romance tropes he finds in the dead princess' diary. But it turns out love might have been right in front of him all along.

This book is hilarious and pokes fun at lots of common rom com tropes as well as fantasy tropes. The land is called "the land of Ere in the realm of Chickpea". Alek and Matt are both so clueless about each other's feelings, it is funny but at times also frustrating, and they try the most ridiculous things to see if they can pair him up with one of their other companions. If you dislike miscommunication or main characters being dumbasses, you probably won't like this book. There's a fun secondary cast, and their companions all fit pretty much into classic dnd classes such as the rogue, the bard etc

Also by this author: In Deeper Waters, a little mermaid retelling that I'll cover in retelling part 2

Last but certainly not least is Malice by Heather Walter

Now, for most of the books I rewrite the summary in my own words with what I think are the most important things to mention, but the official synopsis of the first book is so brilliant and I could never outdo that, so the next part is copy pasted from Goodreads.

Once upon a time, there was a wicked fairy who, in an act of vengeance, cursed a line of princesses to die. A curse that could only be broken by true love’s kiss.

You’ve heard this before, haven’t you? The handsome prince. The happily-ever-after.

Utter nonsense.

Let me tell you, no one in Briar actually cares about what happens to its princesses. Not the way they care about their jewels and elaborate parties and charm-granting elixirs. I thought I didn’t care, either.

Until I met her.

Princess Aurora. The last heir to Briar’s throne. Kind. Gracious. The future queen her realm needs. One who isn’t bothered that I am Alyce, the Dark Grace, abhorred and feared for the mysterious dark magic that runs in my veins. Humiliated and shamed by the same nobles who pay me to bottle hexes and then brand me a monster. Aurora says I should be proud of my gifts. That she . . . cares for me. Even though it was a power like mine that was responsible for her curse.

But with less than a year until that curse will kill her, any future I might see with Aurora is swiftly disintegrating—and she can’t stand to kiss yet another insipid prince. I want to help her. If my power began her curse, perhaps it’s what can lift it. Perhaps, together, we could forge a new world.

Nonsense again.

Because we all know how this story ends, don’t we? Aurora is the beautiful princess. And I—

I am the villain.

This in an adult fantasy duology, and retelling of Sleeping Beauty told from the perspective of a character based on Maleficent. Alyce is not the one who cast the curse on Aurora, but she does have similar powers to the original vila who placed the curse. The way the curse works is all women descended from the original queen of Briar are cursed and will die without their true love's kiss. Cursed women also only have daughters. To make sure this doesn't spread to too many descendants, only the Queen is allowed to have children and other female relatives are not. Some survive the curse by kissing the right person on time, some die. Aurora's mother survived, but true love's kiss doesn't guarantee a good partner or relationship. Aurora's two older sisters both died, and Aurora doesn't have long left. Because of this, she's forced to kiss random men pretty much every day.

The fairies from the original fairytale are graces here, women blessed with minor magical powers to enhance beauty, intelligence, creativity and such, but they are bound by strict laws telling them they have to use their power for the people, they cannot move to a different country, etc. Alyce is the dark grace, her powers don't really work the same but she makes elixers to, but to harm people, at the request of rich people. I found it really interesting how the culture built around graces lead to people being extremely vain and superficial. Alyce was an easy to root for villain, and I love her dynamic with Aurora, especially how it develops in book 2, which I won't say too much about yet because spoilers.

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#six crimson cranes #the dragon's promise #elizabeth lim #malice #misrule #heather walter #the girl who fell beneath the sea #axie oh #so this is ever after #f.t. lukens #retellings #book recommendations

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