#Vampire Elder (Fallen Princess) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlebabyyd0ll · 7 months

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THE LION AND THE LAMB, PART ONE

Forced to leave your home land for the hand of the man your sister had previously been wed to, you find yourself travelling from heaven to hell. Fallen angels couldn’t really be beautiful, could they?

warnings: reader is barb’s sister, explicit themes of death, gothic genre, vampirism, arranged marriages. r’s father physically and mentally abuses her. slight NSWF themes within. you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinktober day one my angels!!! enjoy!! 18+ only.

main masterlist ! series masterlist ! kinktober 2023

Unbound cobblestone lurches the carriage side to side once more, like an abandoned ship far out at sea, taken captive by the powerful hold of Poseidon. It wasn’t much long ago that you were sea sick from the choppy waves, accompanied by your father and his men on your travels from the bright light of your home, to the drizzling haze that was cast over the country of Hawkins. Oh, how it lived up to its reputation. Hawkins was a dark and dreary place, constantly overcast and damp with the rain that fell upon stone homes and muddied roads. The people of the country watched your bright golden carriage with an unsettling known certainty, a grimace which they all shared under the rule of their king. Draped in their dreary colours of grey and stained white, as though all colours were banned from the land. It haunts you, the undead look in their eyes as you clutch at the windowsill whilst rolling past.

These were to be your people, your devout servants of the kingdom.

No life shimmered in their eyes. No hands raised in warm welcomes and waves of the sight of their new queen-to-be. The people of Hawkins were used to this parade, used to the shining golden riches come from afar, accustomed with the cycle that would meet their new queen. For it happened on repeat, to every suitor that King Edward was engaged to marry. You knew, too. For it had been your sister, only months ago.

Forcing your eyes away from the rain sodden faces of the kingdom’s people, you turned back to the other lively body in the carriage. Your father, crown tall and proper upon his head, paid no attention to the villagers as you rolled on past. His sharp gaze was unwavering on the scroll in front of him, the one composed by the King of Hawkins himself. A proposal of marriage to the King, your father, for the hand of his second eldest child, the last daughter in the line of succession. You.

Of course, despite what happened with Barbara, your elder sister who was sent mere months ago to be wed to King Edmund, your father had been delighted by the offer, and had readied your things to leave within the hour. You had faced treacherous oceans and sinking roads to get here. All signs to turn back, to rid yourself of this fate, to run and never return. And, yet, here you sat, dress full and far too outlandish for the style of the people here. The sweetheart neckline of your glimmering, ballet-slipper pink dress seems foolish for the weather, as do the puffed sleeves that fall upon your shoulder. The corset is tight and restricting, but the ribbons that cinch the back of the gown are simply delightful and princesslike. You stand out like a sore thumb in a land like this.

Nerves prickle under your bare skin, and suddenly your tiara weighs heavy. You see the way that your father eyeballs the number of riches that King Edward has offered for your hand and have to force yourself not to sneer at the all too familiar look. The same look that he got when King Edward had written for Barbara’s hand. As your time as princess you have come to learn many things, but one in particular.

Men will do anything for power, glory and riches.

“Must you go through with it, father?” Your voice is softer than intended, has none of the strength and authority that your mother once had. You had hoped to plea with him, to present a case like the sinners in court, though you truly were an innocent in all of this.

There’s barely even a look of recognition as your father’s dull tone fills the emptiness of the rumbling carriage. “The relationship of two kingdoms is not something I am willing to endanger for your personal happiness, daughter. You will fulfil your duty as your mother did, as did your sister.”

“And look what happened to them both.” You interfere, small hands bunching at the tulle of your dress, one of the most expensive in your collection. Only the best to impress your husband-to-be. “They are dead, father. Cold as stone and buried six feet under. Are you not convinced that the same awaits me? Awaits any girl that is forced into the clutches of a powerful man?” There it is; the passion, the fire, the dare. It's the very thing that makes your father’s nostrils flare and has his hand swinging towards you. His jewelled, golden ring pierces the delicate skin upon your pigmented lips and has your face barrelling towards the small window.

Your surprised gasp is overthrown by his tone. “It is that very attitude that surely killed them both. You will do well to remember your place in this world. You are nothing but a pawn. You are a peace treaty between lands. If your blood is the one that is spilled, so be it. My sons are becoming great men, and they are to be my legacy.” He leans forward, glaring into your tear sodden eyes. He traces the stains that run down your cheeks, sadistic pride fills his bones. He is no more family to you than King Edward. You may share blood, but he is no father of yours. “Nobody will remember the losses of a few princesses. King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last.” The words sting at your heart, to know that he is willing to bury you under a gravestone for gold, for numbers on parchment. “That is your fate, daughter. Loathe it, spite it, I do not care. But you will obey it.”

Of course you would. That was your duty. But the truth bares no kindness, no comfort in the depths of its sadness. You force your gaze away, force yourself to stop the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and dab the wound upon your lip with the handkerchief halfheartedly thrown at your lap. Your glossy eyes watch as the bumpy hill rises, and the stone walls come into view. The castle is magnificent, tall spires piercing the swirling skies and mighty defences standing proud as protection, though no one has dared to invade Hawkins in almost two hundred years. The thought had your stomach churning. Gossip of King Edward told a thousand different stories, some say that he is hypnotically handsome. Some say that wives fall dead because they grow jealous of his untimely beauty, one that they could never parallel. Others say that they drop dead at the sight of him, for he is so old that they would rather die than bed him. No one could tell you the age of the king, even when you had offered a satchel of gold.

Once more, all good fates called out to you, begged at you not to exit the carriage and not to follow the path to the chain strung doors. And yet, a part of your soul yearned for the dark wood cast in iron. You ached to find out if the rumours were true, ached to be wed, ached to live as queen, as you had dreamed as a little girl. Subconsciously, as your father’s men knock repeatedly at the wood door, you raise your hand to the dried blood upon your lip, camouflaged with freshly applied rouge. In the depths of your heart, you hoped your fiancè to be a kind man, a man that did not strike, a man that gave you the best in life, a man that adored you. All you had was hope.

A great groan comes from the pushing of the heavy doors. King Edward’s men appear either side of the growing gap, heaving with all their might to open the doors. The inside is dark, much darker than the outside of the castle, only the flickering flames of tall candles are enough to lighten the walkway. The carriage is opened for you, yet you await your turn. Of course, your father barges past you and steps on the once pristine fabric of your dress. A muddied footprint stains it now, and reflects the notion that your father will always be one step higher, one step in front, and he can easily kick you back down again. With a shaky breath your hands raise up, adjust the tiara that sits heavy upon your head, and you force yourself to take the hand of the footman awaiting outside of the carriage.

Drizzling rain falls onto the sapphires of your crown, the very same shade as your father’s surcoat. He talks as though he is the most important man amongst them, his words directed to a very uninterested looking Viceroy. He’s tall, unusually tanned for the people of Hawkins and the constant coverage of clouds. He’s also rugged, knightly looking, with mid length hazel tassels of hair falling at the back of his neck. The King’s second in command bears scars upon his forehead and upon his cheek, and yet the most noticeable thing about him was how simply bored he looked to be listening to your father. And then, he catches sight of you.

Timid little you whose dress is stained at the bottom from the mud on the ground. Timid little you that looks up at the magnificent castle with saucers for eyes. Timid little you who bares her neck and chest, all dressed up to appease her future husband. Timid little you, who is absolutely perfect for his King.

“Princess.” The man calls, voice smooth as he side steps around your father, who does not seem best pleased to be interrupted. You, on the other hand, seem startled to even be addressed. You stand a little straighter, as though all the lady-like lessons that our maid had taught you growing up all came rushing back to the forefront of your mind at once. The Viceroy walks towards you with ease, his outfit a deep murky brown, adorned with the glimmering of shining golden buckles. They each hold the crest of King Edward’s court. He bends at the waist at the same time that you curtsy in greeting, bowing your head and begging that the tiara does not fall off. The chestnut haired man stands tall once more, one arm over his chest, the other proper behind his back. “My name is Steven, your majesty. Sir Steven, and I wish to make your stay here as pleasant as possible. It shall be my name you call if you ever face any difficulty. The king wishes you to have an exquisite time.”

Sir Steven’s smile is enough to have you enchanted. It distracts you from the meaning behind his words: stay, time. As though none of this is permanent. He smiles at the mere sight of you, pretty in pink and so juxtaposing from the environment around you. The only other signs of colour come from the members of your court, your father, your ladies stepping out from the carriage behind your own. So much alike many of the brides that have come before you. Steven outstretches a white gloved hand towards you, beckoning you to walk alongside him. As you walk, you cannot help your full of life eyes to cast one more glance down the slopes if the mountainous hill that the castle sits upon, and down onto the villages below. You almost feel that if you squint hard enough, you can see where life meets death at the horizon.

The halls of Munson Castle are dim and dark. The only sounds available in the dinginess are those of your ladies’ shoes upon the wooden floor behind you and the flickering of flames from the torches mounted to the walls. It seemed as though every magnificent window was guarded closed by large drapes of fabric curtains. No sunlight entered the halls, and the flames were just about strong enough to illuminate the paintings upon the walls. Great murals of battles from hundreds of years ago, some even considered myths, aligned the walls. Victors and losers alike, some of your ancestors were pictured in the paintings. Hundreds of years on, you wonder if your marriage to Edward would disappoint them, for he too was an ancestor of many people in the paintings. Thousands of years ago, your two kingdoms had been at war. No more, not with a marriage that came long ago, yet another wife that had died the night of their wedding.

The thought propels you into memories of Barbara. This place was going to be her home, her beginning, her kingdom to rule as queen. Your heart rate spikes at the thought of how she would react, to your stealing of her husband. Would she get angry? Would she warn you of what had happened to her? She may even haunt these halls, dead in her pristine white wedding dress. For the Kingdoms of the Old, this was an extremely uncommon practice that only King Edward insisted upon. Usually brides-to-be were coated head to toe in gold, silver, bright colours of riches enough to show off the status of the family. King Edward only ever dressed his brides in plain white dresses, the only sign of riches coming from the measly tiara he would have them wear. A flimsy, silver thing with absolutely no jewels whatsoever. At least, that's what the servant’s gossip had said. None of your family had attended Barbara’s wedding, far too at a loss with the death of your mother. Your father had shipped her away without as much as a goodbye. At the very least, you still had his presence. There was always something to be thankful for.

Your hand still laid delicately upon Sir Steven’s palm as he walked you through the halls.

“King Edward wishes to convey his deepest apologies for not being able to meet his bride-to-be, princess.” Spoke Steven, motioning for guards to open up another set of large and heavy doors. This one led directly into the throneroom, large enough to host magnificent balls and could just about fit the whole population of Hawkins inside. “You see, His Majesty deals with the court in the daytime, he spends his hours locked up inside of the Place of Arms. He holds his meetings there, you see, and that is your King’s only rule.” Steven suddenly drops your hand, his face deadly serious. You're sure that the expression on your face reflects the swirling inside of your stomach. “King Edward is a kind King and an even kinder husband. He only forbids you from ever entering the Place of Arms during the day.” Slowly, you nod in acceptance of Steven’s words, of your future husband’s wishes. Is that who he is to be? A man you never see in the day, a man who only ever wishes to bed you at night, who does not care for what you preoccupy your time with? “It is imperative that you understand, princess. There is no entrance to the Place of Arms. Never within daylight hours. What goes on behind those doors are for the King’s knowledge only.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper, your voice. A gentle, “I understand.” And a subservient bow of your head. Just as you had been taught, you are appeasing your husband before having even met him.

But it is this very moment that Steven takes notice of the state of your bottom lip. His voice gently beckons you upward, encouraging you to look him in the eyes. He does not meet yours, however, chocolate irises far too entranced at the dried blood. “How did this come to be?”

The gentleness surprises you, and in a fleeting heartbeat, a moment of misjudgement, your eyes betray you. They fly towards your father’s figure, watching as he scrutinises the two thrones upon the raised flooring of the great hall. Though they are far more magnificent than those of your home, the ones that your brothers will surely kill each other to sit upon, he stares at them as though they are nothing but a spec of dust, floating through the air.

Steven notices immediately. “I will have word sent to the King.”

“No.” You instantly reply, eyes growing wide at the brashness of your tone. You sputter, “Forgive me. I-I just mean that it is nothing worth consulting his majesty over.” Your eyes tell a thousand stories, rhymes and riddles of all the times you have had to cover up injuries before. “Please.”

“He will find out, princess. Either through me, or the gossip of the servants.” Steven is sincere in his words, only looking you in the eye. “Let me soften the blow. He won't be best pleased, your grace.”

Something aches within you. Had he taken a keen interest in Barbara like this? Does he pretend to care for all of his wives before they are cursed with untimely deaths? You wish not to know, face pale and hands shaking.

“Would you be kind enough to take my daughter to her quarters, Sir Simon? She ought to ready herself for the ball tonight.” Your father approaches with his loud voice and his even louder footsteps. You are quite sure that if it were practical enough, he would have shoes of gold. “A perfect bride takes hours to perfect her beauty for her husband.” slowly, he takes a stand of your hair and curls it around his finger. An act which would seem harmless for some, yet you know its true meaning; a warning. Do not disappoint him.

In your mind, the idea of your father’s obnoxiousness makes Steven more likely to tell the King that he had been the one to strike you. Perhaps that is what possesses you to speak so harshly. “His name is Sir Steven, father. You will do well to remember it.”

Regret will surely come soon enough. But for now, you allow Sir Steven to escort you out of the ballroom, and all the way to the east wing, to your new quarters.

Everything is ready for your arrival. The room is simply divine, despite its darkness. The sun is soon to set, so you believe. Everything is magnificent, the four poster bed, the mirror tall enough to be a giant, a great vanity and even soft, plush chairs for your relaxation. You gaze at it with fearsome admiration, a look that your ladies lining the walls have never seen before. Steven watches you with a growing sadness from the doorway. For you hold the same look in your eye that your sister had before you. And he knows that you too should await the same fate. But for now, he lets your girlhood run wild, and allows you to bask in all things prenuptial.

“I will be back to escort you to the ball, your majesty.” He turns to the girls that watch you adoringly. “Ladies, this could be the most important eve of her life.” He turns back to you with a smile. “Make her feel like the fairest of all.”

And he disappears, closing the door with an unknown swiftness. It takes a mere moment before the act of your ladies drops, and they too fawn over all that is around you. You each squeal and laugh, completely enamoured by the riches and the newness of it all. Ladies Nancy, Robin and Erica gush over the luck you are presented with, and they tell you that you are destined to be the one true love of King Edward, that this marriage will be different to all those before. They speak whilst undressing you and leading you through a little side door into a spacious room, one with a sparkling golden bathtub at its centre.

For the hours that follow, you are simply girls. The best of friends, readying one for a night of parties and celebration. New beginnings lay ahead of you, and yet they look at you the same way that they always have. With love, the same way that you used to look at Barbara. They tell you the quickly acquired gossip as they scrub underneath your nails and rake their fingers through your hair.

“The King’s maid said that he is of fine beauty.” Nancy giggles, lightly fingering at one of the crimson rose petals that float on the surface of the water. Her sapphire coloured sleeves are rolled up as she leans over the tub, head resting against her arm. “And he is most kind, treats his people with only the best.”

“Am I the only one who saw the villagers as we rode in?” You murmured, watching robin as she fiddled with your fingernails. “They seemed so… lifeless. They bore no excitement to have a new queen. Everything here, it’s so different.” The words fall slowly and riddled with anxiety, and your ladies share a knowing look. “I wonder if she felt the same, coming here. If she were as scared as I.”

“There can be no man worse to wed than your father, princess.” Erica speaks from behind you, gathering water to push away the soap in your hair. “The king, though his lovelife has been misfortunate, appears to be a good man. He has restored peace, it has been years since the last war broke out. The maids say that he is compelling.” You sigh quietly. “You cannot allow yourself to live in fear of what you do not know. The future is exciting. You ought to breathe, and forget about everything. Tonight, you are nought but a princess, a fiancé, about to meet her husband-to-be.” You can hear the way that she smiles through her words. “And we promise to make you look so saccharine that you take his breath away.”

They do. They always do. You almost can’t believe yourself as you look upon the mirror. The dress that had been brought up to your room was a deep blue, the blue of your court. Its neckline delved into your chest and dropped into ruffles of timeless lace that led straight to your waist, cinched by the strength of three girls and a corset. It fell all the way to your toes, where you had grown a few inches from the heeled shoes presented to you. As before, a mighty tiara sits pretty upon your hairline, glimmering in the candlelight. The ladies had pushed half of your hair up and styled the rest to cascade down your delicate shoulders. Nancy had insisted upon your collarbone being visible, insinuating that the show of skin would have your betrothed hardly able to control himself.

You weren't so sure that you liked the sound of that.

“He will not be able to breathe when he gazes upon you.” Robin gushes, lightly adjusting the pearl necklace upon your neck, right over your pulse point. “He will wish to move the engagement from a week long to no more than a day.”

You roll your eyes.

“It is true!” Nancy murmurs from behind you, her dainty hands laying delicate little forget-me-nots, the flower of your kingdom, into the flowing locks of your hair. Thank heavens that they had thought to preserve and bring the flowers, for the land of hawkins was half dead, You haven't seen much more than overgrown shrubbery on the way here. “We have truly outdone ourselves, though it helps to have such an exquisite canvas.”

“You ladies are really working hard to ensure I have you in my favour.” You laugh, adjusting the tiara in the mirror. Your ladies had also changed into their ball gowns, though nowhere near as regal and outlandish as your own. “Once I am wed I assure you that finding you the most perfect Lords will be at the top of my list of priorities.”

If I live past the wedding night, you think, but do not speak. There is no purpose in killing their uplifted spirits.

“Tonight is about you. Do not fret upon us.” Erica grins, shooing away Nancy and Robin, helping you down from the pedestal in front of the mirror in your larger-than-life room. Her hands are warm against your skin, despite the ever growing chill of the castle. You grip onto her for life, holding on to something so valuable, something of home. Erica turns you slightly, giving one last adjustment as Nancy and Robin both come to stand by her sides. They each hold a matching grin, watching you with a lifelong earnestness. “Our princess.”

“Your future Queen.” Comes another tone, much deeper than possible of the three girls that stood in the room with you. You each turn to the now somewhat familiar man, Sir Steven, as he lingers upon the doorway. He still bears the dull brown colour, though now his uniform is much more exquisite. His tunic is stark blue, matching the colours of your Kingdom. He also wears brown and red on his overcoats, the colours of his kingdom. It is a peaceful statement, the joining of two kingdoms.

You wonder if he wore that to Barbara’s engagement ball.

Steven looks at you with his big brown eyes, taking in the sight before him. Even you have to admit, you feel like a glowing star. “You look divine.” He murmurs, lifting his arm and outstretching it towards you. Your dainty hand falls into the crook of his elbow effortlessly. “The king shall admire your vision for years to come.”

And it suddenly hits you. Tonight is about you, this is all for you. You and your future husband, who you will meet in mere moments. He is mere rooms away as Steven escorts you towards the throne room, and you suddenly realise that these could be your last living moments. If the rumours about King Edward are true, this could truly be your last eve alive. You could fall dead at the very sight of him. Perhaps he is a terribly old man who wants nothing more than for you to bed him and give him heirs. A pretty plaything. A pawn to another man’s game.

You shudder a breath, one that has your chest pushing harshly into the unforgiving corset. There’s a burst of light in the depths of the dark hallways. It comes from the cracks in the ajar door of the trone room. There is a faint tune of music, great orchestral music alike. Your footsteps sound faintly as you grow closer, no match for the chatter and music and dancing. Steven can feel the sudden sharpness of your nails through his overcoat, and murmurs lowly. “Relax. You will be perfect.”

You wish you could.

But the nerves do not die as you stand with Steven in front of the great double doors. Your heart pounds wildly as the herald by the door announces your name in a great bellowing shout. You tense as the double doors begin to widen, and the light becomes ten times more eminent. Steven drops his arm, and your weak arm falls limp at your side. The dancing and chattering has stopped, and the music has become mellow, gentle to welcome you into the room of your new kingdom. The first thing you can see is the bright glowing lights, candles everywhere, and suddenly the room is anew. There is no darkness, no shadows creeping down your spine. The room is alive. As are the faces that stare back at you, so many Lords and Ladies, perhaps even royalty of different kingdoms. It is easy to spot who is of Hawkins, their red emblems pinned neatly to the breasts of both tunics and dresses. They part like waves of the sea, and the aura inside the room bides you in without thought. Some greater nature pulls you in, tugs you by force, and has your feet moving one step after the other into the middle of the room.

You stop in the middle of the ballroom, beneath a magnificent golden chandelier. The gold flickers and shimmers with the flames around it, like stars overhead. You hope that all good fates and gods are watching you now, and will bless your soul. For right now, you feel like a fox against a pack of archers. Every person in the room stares at you, at only you, and yet they do not whisper a word. You turn, spinning on the spot, trying to identify someone, anyone. To find some familiarity amongst strangers. It does not come, the sense of relief that you so desperately sought. Instead, as you stop turning, a group of people in front of you begin to move, parting once more from one another. And then, the music begins to pick up, something deep and meaningful, a tune of the kingdom. Your eyes do not part with the scene in front of you, and still no pair of eyes stray from your figure. Scared. Alone. Until you see.

Black polished shoes graze against the wooden floor. They dazzle in the light, leading to an obsidian pair of breeches, belt loops adorned with hanging golden chains. A flowing material flutters behind the figure lightly, connected to his shoulders, hung by a golden chain to his frilled tunic. The sleeves of his shirt are long, yet his arms are defined enough to be conveyed. The figure that your eyes rake up is tall, taller than any man you have ever known. Your heartbeat impossibly quickens as your eyes meet raven curls, twisting up towards the most handsome face you possibly had ever seen. Sharp jaw and cheeks, dark features enhanced by his pale skin. King Edward looks celestial in all of his grace. He stops a foot or two in front of you lightly trembling form, and he’s so tall. Not lanky, built enough to convey his strength and he fills out his clothes. But that is not what captures your attention most, no, your future husband’s eyes are something of a fairytale. He stares at you softly, despite the sharpness of his eyes. They're brown, yet so much deeper and darker than Sir Steven’s. You swear that something swirls within the depths of those irises, and you are sure not to be mistaken when there is a flicker of gold and blood red, at the closest points to his pupils.

The King is magnificent.

Suddenly you feel as though you might fall to the wife’s curse, for his looks and beauty are far too fine to be of this world.

He could be an angel, or he could be the devil. His motivations seem unclear, for if he were just marrying for the nations, he would never stare at you the way that he does in that moment. King Edward looks at you as though you are the rarest jewel in the land, something to be cherished for millenia to come. He looks at you how the most adoring, caring husband would to his dearly beloved wife. It burns your chest. What is all this for? Is he merely just a shining actor, ready to do what he will to get you into bed?

But the King does not speak, he only moves. His eyes remain the same as he slowly circles around you, soft, gentle, yet observant. He is vetting you, ensuring that you would be the perfect wife, the perfect woman. You can remember the way that the maids in the castle back home had gripped at your hips and told you how a king would adore them, what they could do, what they could create. They saw you as a baby making machine. It’s not the same now, for you can feel the icy cold tingle left in the wake of King Edward’s stare. He observes your hair, fingertips grazing the ends lightly before he plucks one of the clusters of forget-me-nots out, and pockets it next to his neck tie. Blood red and sapphire blue. His eyes continue around you and his hand falls back to your hair, slowly pushing it away from your shoulder and neck as he comes back towards your line of vision. He seems to take in the sight of your pearl necklace, and Nancy was right, for you swear that his eyes darken at the sight. You flush at the realisation; The King wants you. He finds you more than pleasing, and you seem to have passed his evaluations. Relief floods you – the poorly hidden cut upon your bottom lip had not deterred him.

You feel tiny under his gaze. You can barely breathe, and you feel as though your heart is trying to escape from your chest. It would be impossible to match him, to be acquainted with his wealth, his power. You would surely forever be known as the princess who did not deserve such a man.

And yet, King Edward falls down to one knee. He lowers himself, far lower than you. At first, you believe him to be bowing. But the reality is far different. The King produces a golden ring, a deep, dark ruby red jewel encrusted with a halo of darling diamonds. It sits proudly between his own ringed fingers, presented to you, and is probably worth more than anything you have ever owned. Across the room, you can practically hear your father encouraging you to take the ring, to take the King as your husband.

“Princess,” his voice is so unlike anything you have ever heard before. So rich and smooth, yet intoxicating and deep He speaks as a King, with power and authority. His voice can be heard over the orchestral music, he is so respected. So adored. “I present you with this ring as a symbol of our unity. Of two kingdoms. Take this ring, and I will give you anything you could ever ask for, anything your heart could ever desire. Swear yourself to me, as my wife, as my Queen, and you shall have eternal glory.”

You raise a trembling hand towards him. Words cannot convey the sudden compelling that you have, the need to take his hand, to fulfil what he has promised for you. You feel air-light as you speak almost breathlessly, “I swear myself to you, King Edward.”

The pressure of your corset seems to have faded. You can breathe freely as soon as the ring slips onto your finger. His hand is cold as he reaches for your finger, chilled as the winter’s snow. You jolt, though do your best to contain it as your skin makes contact with his own. You’ve surely never felt something so cold before, and yet never felt so warm. Heat and bliss dance around you as the ring slips over your knuckle, and falls perfectly into place against your skin.

You admire the jewel for a moment, take in the fact that it now resides there, upon your very own finger. You take in the fact that King Edward had not seen you and rejected you in a moment, instead fallen to his knee and presented you with a glistening ring. Your heart soars, and your eyes travel to meet his. Those around you have began to dance once more, shouting their cheers for their king. You are certain that you heard Robin’s squeal in there somewhere. He watches you intently, as though a creature so beautiful had never existed before. He seems mystified, perhaps even as much so as you are. The King looks at you as though there is a halo upon the crown of your head, and God had delivered you here on a silver platter himself.

Edward raises your entwined hands, presses his cool lips against your knuckles, and drags you further under his spell. You spin and spin, until you realise that it isn’t only in your head, and the two of you are dancing, hand in hand, his other at the curve of your waist. You can feel the way that his thumb glides over the fabric of your dress, the subtle admiring of such fine clothing. King Edward is a force that hits you like a storm.

“You are a rarity.” He murmurs to you, eyes flickering golden. His lips entrance you as they move, something so compelling yet familiar to you. Did those lips ever meet Barbara’s? How many of his past wives has he held this way, presented such fine jewellery to? King Edward has ruled for a glorious lifetime. You are not his first wife, and you will surely not be his last. It is as though he can detect a disturbance within your aura, the King moves to pull you closer. Your breath hitches as you feel the solid wall of his chest, the brushing of his thigh against your dress. “A fine jewel, something men like I could only ever dream of.” The forget-me-not in his necktie sways with the movement of his dancing. His voice lulls you, but his hands have you more alive than ever before. “The stars are shining down upon me tonight. Being King has brought me many fortunes, but you, my heart, are the most supreme of them all.”

You can almost hear your maids back home, telling you what to say, how to bat your eyes, how to smile. Yet it almost comes on unconsciously as you speak to your newly betrothed. “I wish nothing more than to prove myself to you, my King. I will serve you well as your Queen. Forever, I am indebted to you.”

There is an incessant presence between the two of you, something that shifts in the air and pushes the blood through your veins. Though you have never felt it before in your life, you know what it is – arousal. Something you only learned of after one of Barbara’s ladies was caught in the stable with a young knight, and Robin spent the eve explaining the ways that people come together to procreate. You wonder how soon after the marriage King Edward will want to consummate. It is a clear thought in his own mind, for he looks at you as though you are the most divine meal, served on a silver platter.

“I am the luckiest man in the whole kingdom.” He murmurs, eyes flickering from your neck to your eyes. “Sir Steven often overexaggerates, but he did not lie when it comes to your gentle beauty and charm. You are the finest bride-to-be.”

And, suddenly, something stirs within you. His words push you head first out of the trance he had gently swayed you into, and now you remember the absurdity of it all. The fact that Barbara was here, in your place, and now dead. The burn of arousal turns to a burn of fire, churning deep within you. You blaze.

“Finer than my own sister?” You do not allow yourself to physically sneer, not in front of all these people, but your tone is enough for the King. He watches as you lean yourself away from him. “Or even the wife before? Will you say the same to one of my nieces, when they turn of age?”

But Edward does not falter. He does not grow angry, he does not shout, he does not strike. His eyes remain that same calm and cool. Golden, brown. His gentleness is suffocating. “I understand how–”

“The girl forgets herself.” A drunken tone interrupts. One you are all too familiar with, one that you avoid with great caution. Your dance with King Edward falls apart as you both turn to the stumbling figure of your father, who just happened to be passing as you spoke out of tone. A goblet is gripped tightly between his fingers. He drinks enough for half of the ballroom. Your father sneers openly at you, raising the goblet. “Nothing a simple drubbing won’t fix. She will take it, your highness, she will grow to understand her place.” Your father grumbles, swigging his mead. “Just as her mother did.”

The king straightens beside you.

You can feel his energy change at the mention of harming you, the idea that he should be the one to set you right with a physical hand. The King towers over both you and your father, and in the short time that you have known him, you are determined in your knowledge that he has far more power and authority than your father.

“I hope you make jest,” the raven haired man speaks your father’s name lowly. Said man lowers his chalice, waveringly glancing between you and Edward. “The princess knows her place…” King Edward steps forwards, his dominance unmistakeable. Your father gulps. “She is the future Queen of the most powerful kingdom in this corner of the globe. She is my bride-to-be. I had hoped that my loyal servants had lied about the cut upon her saccharine lips. Perhaps, you forgot your own place? I would loathe to have to prosecute you ‘pon means to harm the future Queen.”

Your heart soars. Your lip stings dully. Your eyes are glassy and the shape of hearts, because nobody has ever, ever stood up for you like that. It is clear to you now - Edward is a fierce lover, and a loyal man. He works to protect you, protect his kingdom. You ache for the harsh words that you had previously spoken, how you had intended to harm his feelings. Here he is, protecting you from the torture of your own flesh and blood. Forget the rumours, the curses. In front of you is a human man protecting his newfound love. Perhaps you are different to all of his past queens, for you are sure that he cannot fall this quickly each time, cannot care so.

Your heart begins to beat for the King of Hawkins.

Your father breaks the stare between them first. He is no match for the pale, tall and built figure in front of him. Not to mention the sword-clad guards lined up against each wall of the ballroom. Sir Steven has drawn closer at the scene, his fingers grazing the metal of the hilt of his sword. His eyes are dangerous and dark, watching intently as your father begins to stumble backwards, his aged brows pulled together.

Edward watches him go with a blank stare, yet still so intimidating. Most of the crowd around you are still dancing their hearts out, feet uncontrollably moving. As though they are destined to never stop, not unless their King tells them to. Perhaps it is not you that is a pawn, but them.

A cold, gentle hand falls at your elbow, gripping lightly. Your eyes reach those of King Edward’s, but they are suddenly unfamiliar. There is no gold, no hint of red. They are almost obsidian black, the same tone as his curly hair. You can feel the invisible string pulling your brows together as you take in the sight, dainty hand moving up towards his face. The warmth of your skin caresses his cheek, thumb ghosting across the skin under his eye.

“Your eyes…” you murmur, wracking your brain for a logical answer. “They have changed.”

“They have not been the same since I set my sights on you, princess.” The King’s free hand meets yours, sandwiching you between his cool skin. “They will never be the same again.”

You believe him wholeheartedly. You can see the meaning of his words within his eyes, and your heart bleeds for him. In fact, you are sure that you have already passed over your heart to him, pushed your hand inside your chest and dug around until you reached the beating organ, your vessel of life, and handed it over to him.

The feeling lingers, once more underneath the spell of King Edward, throughout the eve. You are enamoured by him as he walks you through the throne room, introducing you to the strange people of Hawkins. Some of them look at you as though you are a piece of meat, and you are sure that you can feel the King’s grip on your waist tighten. They all seem to have a similar aura about them, like they share a hidden secret. They stare intensely, but you assume it is because you are an outsider. Still, King Edward puts you at ease. He speaks so freely, so smoothly. He shows you your future throne, shows you the deep, red ruby set at the crescent of the golden chair. It matches your ring entirely, and the King does not comment when you speak on their likeness. What else could you expect? It is the colour of his court, after all. You are still enamoured when he sneaks you away from the courtroom, when he steals you from the knowing stares of your ladies, who happily let him take you away. They steal your chalice of wine and usher you with shooing hands, winking wildly.

You grin like a child, unable to contain your excitement, in a way that you haven’t in so many years. Not since the last festival of light, back in your home kingdom, with your mother, when she had sang to you, span you in dance, braided your hair. You had not known a giddiness quite like this in such a long lifetime. You cannot help the way that you giggle as you run hand in hand through the flame lit halls. Your hair sways behind you, flowers surely falling from their neat positions. The clipping sound of your heels fills the hall, and King Edward’s somehow fall silently. You suppose in hindsight that it is due to his meticulous battle training, his tactics.

The King takes you out to a courtyard, one that is filled with some of the first signs of life that you have seen since arriving in Hawkins. Flowers bloom in the midnight moon, something exotic and unseen of your land. Some are bright red, others variants of orange and yellow. They hold so much life, so natural and yet completely supernatural at the same time. He speaks their names slowly, guiding you through them with a gentle hand against your spine. You have never heard of the plants before, never been so in awe of the world’s beauty.

King Edward watches you. His eyes take in the way that you kneel to be closer to the horticulture, the gentleness of your fingers as you test the leaves. He grows to quickly adore the soft nature of your voice, the inquiries of your genuine questions. He answers them with the same love in his eyes that you hold in yours, and suddenly you feel as though you could be his wife blind. Help him rule his kingdom without as such as a hiccup.

“You will make the most beautiful Queen.” He speaks to you towards the end of the night, when the two of you have tucked yourselves away in a corner of the ballroom that Sir Steven made you return to. King Edward looks down at you as he speaks, large hands holding a chalice which he tips towards your lips. Obediently you open your mouth to him, the red wine burning upon your tongue as it slips past your healing lips. “So adoring, so fine. I wish for my people to serve you as they do me. I will arrange for you to visit the townsfolk with Sir Steven tomorrow, to see how they live.” You try not to think of their solemn faces, the death in their eyes. “You will grow to love them as your own, Princess.”

“Anything you wish, My King.” The words come after a swallow of the alcohol, the King’s eyes following a falling drop of crimson as it cascades down your chin. His eyes flicker once more, a new sort of hunger hidden behind them. “Will you do me the pleasure of accompanying myself and Sir Steven?”

His gaze shifts again, and something swirls in his chest — you can almost see it happening.

“My duties lay elsewhere in the daytime, Princess. I did ask Steven to assure you of this,”

“He did.” You’re quick to interject. “It was merely wishful thinking, my King. I apologise.”

“You never have to be sorry.” He murmurs, dark eyes injecting a cooling sensation into your very veins. King Edward has put a spell on you, a spell that would surely soon have him chasing after you.

A spell that will have you running from the daylight.

#<3 eddie munson #eddie munson! abby’s version #abby’s kinktober !#dark! :0 #multiple characters #vampire #vampire!eddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things au #knight!steve #eddie #eddie munson smut #princess!reader #Eddie Munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader

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northernolddragon · 1 year

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maybe the creators wanted to do the same thing with Syanna as with Olgierd. at the beginning our ataman is a son of a bitch but over time we get to know his story, we feel sorry for him and we save him. syanna is a revenge-seeking fallen princess who thinks her sister has betrayed her (this is the most important point in all of this) when Geralt travels with her through the land of fairy tales, he learns her story and it turns out that there is a small misunderstanding between the sisters, so the player should want to reconcile them. and it's a big smelly shit. all the blame is put on Dettlaff who was just a tool (let's put a knife in prison the victim bled out because of it) that's why I don't like this ending very much. it's really a shame that cdpr promotes such a thing. the moral of this is that you can commit the worst crime, set beast on people and if you have connections you can get away with it.

There should be ending where both sisters się and dettlaff alive. Weird that Geralt didnt ask the unseen elder just to stop Dettlaff.

Oh, I didn't think about those parallels. Interesting thoughts, dear anonymous! Syanna, to some extent, evokes sympathy, one can really sympathize with her, remembering her revelations to Geralt in the Land of Fairy Tales. In the same magical world, there is also a reference to Blaviken, just a mention, why, sometimes, you think that Syanna is the same Renfri. It becomes a pity for her after the story, which is so reminiscent of the story of the robber from Blaviken. Only this does not negate her cruelty to Dettlaff. Her calculation, about his naivety and feelings for her. Her reprisal against the knights guilty of 'persecution'. And unfulfilled revenge on my sister.

Olgierd had a slightly different situation, since Mr. Mirror deceived him, taking advantage of his despair. Or rather, he didn’t even deceive, he skillfully manipulated at the moment when Olgerd was most susceptible to influence. He later tried to return the opportunity to break the contract - as we know, he did not succeed. The terms of the contract had to be respected. Syanna, on the other hand, acted of her own free will and did not at all regret what she had done. Instead of Gaunter, she had the Black Sun. And she believed that since they had made a monster out of her, they should not be disappointed. Although I think she might have veered off that path, like Regis, who curbed the bloodlust. With Geralt, a conversation started about the possibilities of choice. She chose the worst. Which is extremely sad.

I guess the Unseen Elder didn't intervene, as he has little interest in the outside world. He only helped in one of the endings to summon Dettlaff (he killed Geralt twice because I asked more questions than I needed xd) . This being is indifferent to humanity. And she would intervene if something really serious happened, threatening the code of vampires and their rules. Recall the story of Khagmar. If I remember correctly, Regis mentioned, that the Unseen Elder were involved in the execution of the judgment. Having unlimited possibilities and power, they remain completely neutral until the moment of resonance in the world of relative. Probably, what Dettlaff didn't fit into this category. It seems to me that for such an ancient being, Dettlaff's emotions were a childish prank.

The best outcome would be, that the end of the storyline was accompanied, of course, by the reunion of the sisters, a celebration in honor of this event and the help of Geralt along with Regis, and the living and invisible Dettlaff. I don't blame the developers for recreating the realities of life, where having a title and a connection with a high-ranking rank can escape punishment worthy of punishment (not necessarily death), otherwise an innocent creature, who was taken advantage of will be in a bad position and with a complete list accusations. The same injustice, that often prevails. Made endings without 'happily ever after'. Because Toussaint is still not such a fairy tale.

#ask

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aki-archive · 4 years

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#fallen princess #Fallen Princess (Mobile)#akki no jikan #あっきのじかん #zombie maid #Zombie Maid (Fallen Princess)#vampire elder #Vampire Elder (Fallen Princess)#lost ghost #Lost Ghost (Fallen Princess)

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vaesha-draecon · 2 years

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The Shadows of Madness (Prologue)

Skyrim… The land of unforgettable cold. The history of this land runs deep, hiding even the darkest of secrets. Many have tried to uncover these secrets, but were proven unsuccessful. That is why I was sent here, to prevent what is meant to stay buried… from seeing the light of day. That is, until I met him.

***

The sensation of Daedric steel brushing along my neck caught my attention. Somehow I wasn’t able to sense the presence of my foe until they got the better of me.

“Who are you, and what is your purpose here?!” my foe growled, feeling his breath at my nape.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I tried to get my bearings. From what I was able to make out, my foe was male and he seemed tall. I had to regain the advantage, one wrong move and I would be counted amongst the dead in this ruin.

“I said,” his grip tightened, the blade cutting deeper into my neck “who are you, and what is your purpose here?”

“I could ask the same for you!” I snapped.

“I asked first!”

“You don’t even belong here!”

“Says who?” I replied smugly

“You’re not privy to that information!”

“Look,” I sighed “we can keep at this until the end of the era,” my foe’s grip was strong, any chance of getting free of it was futile, “or you can let me go and we can get better acquainted with one another, your choice”

It went silent for a moment, save for the sound of the wind passing through the cavern and the occasional drip of water. Finally, after an audible sigh, my foe’s grip loosened and I no longer felt the kiss of Daedric steel across my neck. With my freedom returned, I slowly turned and faced my foe, taking in his features.

Just as I thought, he was tall, at least a whole foot taller than me, and he was well built. Not too bulky, but not too slender either; and he was a Vampire too. Whoever he was, he wasn’t some ambitious fledgling looking to claim some territory. No, this man had an aura about him that screamed ancient Vampire. It was obvious how he was able to sneak up on me, let alone having me in a vice grip.

The elder Vampire looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer his demands. Smirking I gave a half-measured curtsey,

“Vaesha of House Ravenwatch, perhaps you heard of them?”

“That group of meddlers is still around? I thought they disbanded centuries ago!”

I feigned shock, earning an eye roll from the stranger.

“We’re still here, smaller than what we were, but still meddling in your affairs” I chuckled “Now, I believe it is your turn to tell me who you are,”

“Not until you tell me your purpose here!”

I wagged my finger, clicking my tongue in the process,

“Now, now, we must show proper etiquette. I tell you my time, and you tell me yours, then we may exchange pleasantries. Honestly, who taught you your manners?”

The stranger held back a retort, then straightened his posture before giving a polite bow,

“Very well, I am Sedric Volkihar, of Clan Volkihar, the Vampire elite of Skyrim,”

“Was that so hard, Princess?” I cocked my head to the side with a playful smile.

“Don’t call me that!” Sedric snapped “now tell me what your purpose is in Dimhollow Crypt! You are trespassing on Volkihar territory!”

“Oh really? That is what this place is?” I feigned ignorance for the moment “I would have never known if it weren’t for the non-existent tapestries and guards!”

“Enough games!” Sedric’s eyes flashed in anger, his fingertips started to flicker with Magicka.

“Fine,” I relented, suddenly weary of our bickering “We, as in House Ravenwatch, received reports of activity in the area, and sent me to investigate,”

“So they sent a lone runt of a Vampire into a den of beasts? My how the mighty has fallen,”

“I’m a lot stronger than I look, Princess,” I winked at him. “Now what brings the Princess all the way to a dank cavern in the middle of Skyrim, away from his luxurious castle?”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“My apologies your grace,”

“Enough!” Sedric’s voice echoed throughout the cavern, his fangs barred for a brief moment “I’ve had enough with your games!” he lunged at me, taking me by my shoulders and pinning me against the cold, damp rock wall.

“Well, normally I’d have dinner and a date before we reach this stage,” I teased. The wonder I haven’t met my demise yet astounds even myself at this point.

“You are the most incorrigible wretch I have ever met!”

I open my mouth to give a clever rebuttal, but pause when I start picking up the distant sound of footsteps and the shuffling of armor.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but in about five minutes we are about to have company, and by the sounds of it, they aren’t the friendly type,”

“I realize that,” Sedric hissed, before muttering a few colorful words under his breath.

“Tick-Tock, your highness, they will be upon us at any moment, and I think they’re armed,” glancing around the area for a place to hide, Sedric released me from the wall and took up my wrist, pulling me deeper into the ruins down a dilapidated corridor.

“My lord, what’s going on? Who’s this?” asked a cloaked Vampire who came rushing from an alcove beside us.

“We don’t have time, Nikolai, The Dawnguard approaches,”

The Vampire Sedric called Nikolai swore under his breath and hurried over to a weathered door, gesturing us to follow. It hadn’t occurred to me at the moment, but I wasn’t sure why Sedric was even bothering to bring me along. I was, after all, trespassing on his clan’s territory, or so he claimed.

I was dragged down a musty, narrow corridor until we reached what seemed to be an old dining hall. Sedric gave a swift tug, yanking me forward before releasing my wrist. I stumbled forward, regaining my balance before I fell onto the ancient tiled floor.

“Hey, watch it!” I snapped, abruptly turning to face Sedric and his mysterious companion “you seriously need to learn how to treat a lady!” I feigned brushing dirt from my clothes, earning a sneer from Sedric.

“Now then, before we were rudely interrupted, you were about to tell me your purpose here, weren’t you?”

“I do believe you have not earned that right,”

“Very well,” I shrugged, turning away from Sedric and moving over towards an overlook “then, would you mind telling me why the Dawnguard are here armed to the teeth?”

“Why do you need to know?!” the cloaked Vampire growled “who are you even?!”

Sedric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

“Her name is Vaesha, and she is with the dilapidated House of meddlers,”

“I would consider us more, how to say it, dispersed, than, dilapidated,” I turned to face the duo “also, we aren’t meddlers,” I walked towards them and held out my hand towards Nikolai,

“Vaesha Draecon, at your service”

Nikolai suddenly stiffened before letting out a worn out groan,

“By the nine, it just had to be you!” Nikolai brushed away my hand and reached up to lower his hood. I raised my brows in astonishment.

“Hello, brother,”

“Molag’s balls!” Sedric exclaimed throwing his hand over his eyes in disbelief “you didn’t tell me you had a sister, an annoying one on top of that,”

“Believe me sir, I wish I didn’t,” Nikolai turned to Sedric “I didn’t find in necessary information since we haven’t seen each other in a few decades,”

“Alright, family reunion aside, can we please get to the bigger picture here?” I sarcastically waved to get their attention “Why is the Dawnguard hot on your tails? In fact, why is the Dawnguard even around, they disbanded sometime in the Second Era!”

Nikolai looked to Sedric, then back to me, sighing in defeat,

“A rogue group of vampires seeking to gain influence in Harkon’s court decided to lay waste to the Hall of the Vigilant, as well as terrorizing the holds across Skyrim, and we were sent to find them and dispose of them before they put our clan in jeopardy.”

I looked to Sedric,

“There, was that so hard?” I asked “anyway, it’ll explain why House Ravenwatch sent me out to investigate. However, my trail brought me to Dank Hollow Tomb”

“Dimhollow Crypt” Sedric interjected.

“Whatever!” I threw my arms up in the air, then starting to pace back and fourth “someone has been very naughty and made a huge mess of themselves that I have to clean up!” I abruptly turned for Sedric “just think Princess, if you would have told me this from the beginning, you would have dealt with your unruly ruffians and I would be on my way back to give my report and we’d never cross paths again. But now we’re hiding from a reformed group of Vampire hunters!”

“How is this my fault? You were the one trespassing!”

“And? I tried knocking, but no one answered my knocking at the cavern entrance. Also there were no signs that said: “House Ravenwatch, keep out!” so I just let myself in,”

“By the divines you’re making me wither away,” Sedric groaned, rubbing his temples.

Our bickering was interrupted by loud rumbling echoing throughout the chamber. Sedric, Nikolai, and I ran towards the overlook. Down below we saw two figures in what seemed to be a large arena.

“It couldn’t be…” Sedric muttered as he watched one of the two figures in the distance.

“Couldn’t be who…?” I asked turning, to Sedric.

But before I could pry any more information from him, Sedric turned to Nikolai,

“Come on, we have to return to the castle, Lord Harkon needs to hear about this!”

“Uhm, excuse me, what about me?” I asked as I watched the two Vampires rush about the chamber, gathering up various items and rapidly stuffing them into satchels. I quickly took hold of Sedric’s arm, yanking him towards me so I could get some answers. Despite him being much older, and thus much stronger, I tightened my grip on him.

“What? Can’t you see I am busy?” he snapped.

“Clearly,” I replied “whoever that is, it sure has you in a frenzy, do you mind telling me who that is?”

Sedric tightened his jaw, looking to Nikolai, then back to me,

“Someone who we all thought lost and has something very important to Lord Harkon,” Sedric ripped his arm from my grasp and turned to Nikolai, gesturing for him to follow “and she might be in danger,” Sedric and Nikolai brushed passed me, heading towards another hidden corridor.

“We must leave,”

“What am I going to tell House Ravenwatch? Maybe they can offer aid?” I asked.

“Tell them nothing. They won’t be able to help us,” and then he was gone as the cavern vanished behind a hidden door. I pondered on his words for a moment before glancing down towards where the two figures once stood. Even with my Vampire sight, I could barely make out their forms as they were heading deeper into the ruins of the crypt.

I never returned to House Ravenwatch after that day, and It would be several months before I saw Sedric again.

#The shadows of Madness #Sedsha #Sedric #Vaesha #Elder Scrolls #The Elder Scrolls #Skyrim #Vampire #OC #tes #tes vampire #Skyrim oc #tes v skyrim

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moved-to-void-kissed · 3 years

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= my selfship AUs =

Although I don’t talk about them too much, I do have a number of different AUs for each of my selfships! This post gives a little overview of each of them in turn, sorted by the selfship that they concern, as well as some of the “overarching AUs” which are the ones where all of my romantic selfship are canon at once. ..Not all of them have very much to them, but hopefully that’s okay.

The actual list is under the readmore because otherwise this post would be about five miles long, but hopefully all this works well! If anyone has any questions or wants to ask me anything about any of these AUs, you’re always more than welcome to do that! ^-^

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overarching AUs:

mythical AU - a generic fantasy universe where all of my F/Os and their corresponding self-inserts exist as different mythical creatures, and all of my romantic selfships exist in tandem (apart from my one with Anti-Aqua - she only exists if Aqua doesn’t). The specific information regarding what sort of creature everyone is is written in the section for ecah individual selfship.

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void-kissed (Luna/Adriana) AUs:

void spirit AU - Luna is lost to the Void at the end of Episode 18, instead of escaping with Adriana. She is able to carry on existing in the world as a spirit, but only Anna is left able to properly perceive her, with Adriana needing to wear one of Reborn’s four seals in order to be able to see her.

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, Luna is a ghost tied to the Emerald Brooch while Adriana is a witch who is able to communicate with and summon her. She goes on a journey to try and save Luna from being destroyed when Elias and the rest of Team Meteor try to acquire all four of the seals.

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survivors of the dark (Aqua/Aria) AUs:

vampire AU - Aria is a powerful vampire (one of those classic “rich and alone and lives in a mansion and has dark powers”-types), whereas Aqua is a vampire hunter sent to destroy her. However, a rival vampire faction (i.e. Xehanort and his allies) attacks Aria’s mansion while she is hosting a ball, and Aqua ends up having to fight alongside her to both stay alive and rescue her fellow vampire hunters Terra and Ven, who had been turned and captured respectively by the rival vampires.

PAFL AU - the selfship is set in the world of Parties Are For Losers, a series created by the Vocaloid producer Ferry. Aqua and Terra live as siblings with Eraqus, who adopted them both; Terra wants to become a stalker of the Zone and Aqua is trying to stop him because it’s such a dangerous career path. Aria is a mutant who escapes the Zone facility when KT and Dima do, bringing fellow mutant Ventus with her, and the two of them end up running into the Wayfinders.

dual wayfinder AU - instead of going into the realm of darkness, Aria is transported into the future alongside Ventus, losing her memories of her true nature in the process. They both become Master Xehanort’s apprentices, and he tries to use Ven’s light and Aria’s darkness to forge the X-Blade, but it doesn’t work so he sends them off to Eraqus. Vanitas and Ves are then split from Ventus and Aria at Terra and Aqua’s Mark of Mastery exams, prompting a world-spanning chase to find answers.

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, Aqua is an angel whereas Aria is a vampire. I don’t have any story for it yet, though.

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to our own Elysium (Pyra/Sapphire) AUs:

driver Sapphire AU - Sapphire takes Rex’s place as Pyra’s Driver - she is a wanderer from Gormott who was hired by Torna to open the door on the already-raised Ancient Ship (which in this AU needs a light-element Blade to open instead of a Leftherian, and Sapphire was already Avalon’s Driver which is why they needed someone like her). Rex appears as Vandham’s biological son from canon who didn’t die, but he doesn’t join the party.

DQIX AU - essentially the story of Dragon Quest IX but told using the XC2 characters. Mythra is a Celestrian and acts as the Guardian of the volcanic town of Upover, but falls down to the Protectorate in the form of a mortal armamentalist called Pyra when the Observatory is attacked. Pyra enlists the help of Sapphire and her father Vandham (who are residents of Upover) to travel across the world and regain her divine abilities. The Indoline Praetorium replace the Gittish Empire, except Torna are the Triumgorate who betray them, and Malos replaces Corvus.

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, Pyra is a dragon stuck in a mostly human form (unlike her siblings Mythra and Malos, who are also dragons except they can choose to take human form if they wish to), while Sapphire is a werecat who ends up stumbling across Pyra in the forest and tries to help her get her powers back.

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love, trust and diamond dust (Perun/Sapphire) AUs:

driver Sapphire AU - Perun resonates with Sapphire to become one of her Blades during the story, taking Pyra’s place as Sapphire’s main damage dealer during most of Chapter 7. She is also good friends with Avalon, who is alive in this AU.

DQIX AU - Perun is a paladin from Gleeba who ends up joining Sapphire, Vandham and Pyra on their quest across the Protectorate because she wants to help protect justice and figures that aiding a Celestrian is the best way to do that. Her weapon is a spear, and in battle she tends to intercept attacks meant for the others a lot.

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, Perun is a yet-to-be-determined creature who had initially set out to slay the Aegis dragons, whereas Sapphire is a werecat who tries to dissuade her from doing so because their presence is important for the world’s balance.

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dark hearts corrupted (Anti-Aqua/Aria) AUs:

fallen light AU - all normal content of my selfship with Anti-Aqua technically takes place within the context of this AU. It’s an alternate version of events in KH where Aqua ends up falling to darkness shortly after BBS as a result of her light fading and her anguish at being abandoned by the light. Anti-Aqua and Aria become rulers of the realm of darkness, wishing to get revenge on the light for abandoning them both (Aqua also wants revenge on Xehanort, whereas Aria seeks to reach the Final World).

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, Anti-Aqua is a fallen angel and Aria is the vampire that corrupted her. I don’t have any story for it yet, though.

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a dance of endeavours (Camellia/Telanthera) AUs:

mythical AU - I haven’t put this selfship in the mythical AU yet, but I do intend to - I’m just having trouble thinking of mythical creatures that fit the characters.

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our own kind of heroes (N/Noire) AUs:

reversed heroes AU - the “reverse AU” for this selfship. N is a kind Unovan Pokémon Ranger with the inborn ability to communicate with Pokémon, whereas Noire is the cold sheltered princess of Team Plasma who hates humanity for mistreating Pokémon. She is chosen by Zekrom for her belief in her misguided ideals for separating people and Pokémon, whereas N is chosen by Reshiram for his ability to understand the truth of how Pokémon are and wish to be.

mythical AU - in the mythical AU, N is a forest spirit and guardian of twin dragons Reshiram and Zekrom, who are sealed away within his forest. Noire is a fire elemental who was originally summoned by malevolent humans to help destroy the forest that N protects in order to reach and wake up the dragons, only to promptly decide “no thanks” and go off to do her own thing. which incidentally led to her learning to appreciate nature and helping N.

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a farmer and a thief (Skye/Emily) AUs:

Elsewhere University AU - Emily is a biology student studying at Elsewhere University (created by charminglyantiquated on Tumblr) who uses Mimi as a safe name, and Skye is a mischevious changeling known on campus as the Phantom Prince who ends up becoming infatuated with her quite by accident.

mythical AU - I haven’t put this selfship in the mythical AU yet, but I do intend to - I’m just having trouble thinking of mythical creatures that fit the characters.

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under a bloodcursed sun (Serana/Cansen) AUs:

Dawnguard AU - the “reverse AU” for this selfship. Serana is the daughter of Harkon, leader of the Dawnguard, a renowned group of vampire hunters. He seeks to use the Tyranny of the Sun prophecy to create a relentless eternal day and destroy all vampires, not realising how disruptive this would be to the natural order of the world. Camille is a scholar from the First Era who was sealed away with an Elder Scroll containing part of this prophecy, which stopped her aging, while Isran and the rest of the normal Dawnguard make up the Volkihar vampire clan. After Serana accidentally frees Camille from where she was sealed away, the two of them go on a quest to complete the prophecy, so that Harkon or Isran’s vampires don’t get to it first.

mythical AU - I haven’t put this selfship in the mythical AU yet, but I do intend to - I’m just having trouble thinking of mythical creatures that fit the characters.

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#a call from the void #selfship #selfshipping #everyone is here!#selfship AUs #something to keep track of #I can't help but feel like I had more than this. but these are all the ones that were on my carrd back when I kept them on there #this very much feels like an instance of ''spot the main romantic F/Os'' haha #albeit perhaps not in this case since I don't have that many for my selfship with luna. maybe that's something to do with reborn's obscurity #since I have friends I talk about KH to. I have friends I talk about XC2 to. I don't have anyone I can talk about reborn to.#because nobody else has played it =P #but anyway here this'll go out at midnight on the 1st probably #waiting in the wings #AU april 2021 #selfship events #sort of

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sapphicmsmarvel · 4 years

Text

Dating Shuri

A/N: You're Tony Stark's daughter in this.

-When T'challa had mentioned that Y/N L/N-Stark was coming to Wakanda for the summer; she was quite excited but yet, worried that you'd take over her lab.

-So in a way, yes, she was dreading it. Dreading of losing one of the places she felt most at home to a Stark. She had nothing against the Starks, it's just how intimidating the simple name was.

-You had arrived in the middle of the night, the quinjet you took was running very behind schedule and Okoye was quite stressed over the whole ordeal, but you had arrived.

-She went to your bedroom that you were staying in and found you with your nose in a book, and it wasn't an "intellectual one" your father would've been caught reading. It was a book she had never heard of (and there were not many that she had not heard of)

-She made a bad decision when she said, "what's that one about?"

-Because you didn't look up like you had known she was there, in fact you got scared so bad that you had dropped the book and let out a little screech from your desk chair.

-"what the fucking hell is wrong with you?!" You shrieked, ignoring how absolutely pretty the girl was.

-Shuri shrugged, "you're the one staying in my house." She laughed.

-You sighed, of course this would be how you met the freaking princess of Wakanda. Your friend Peter told you how smart she was but he had failed to mention how pretty she was as well. "Well, don't sneak up on them then, I thought princesses were supposed to have manners." You smirked a little bit.

-She laughed, there was the Stark she had heard rumors of. "Nice to meet you Y/N."

-You let out a soft smile, "you as well Shuri."

-Since that meeting the two of you became close, she respected the fact that you didn't judge her for choosing technology and being the smartest person in Wakanda. You had said to her, "God I wish you came to America, I'd love to see you kick the old white dudes on their asses."

-She taught you about technology but design was more your expertise. You had designed the Iron Spider suit after all which made Shuri totally fangirl and start to fall for you. She asked for your help (she totally didn't need it, she just wanted you in the lab with her) to add some things to the Black Panther suit.

-You two actually ended up making out that night and becoming official. A month into your visit which Tony and Peter tease you two endlessly about it.

-Okoye actually found you two in the midst of it all, she had walked past your room and found it empty and vacant, a book fallen onto the floor (you got excited to go work with Shuri so you threw it down) and she raced to the lab to ask Shuri where you had went.

-Only she walked in to find Shuri sat on the table, her legs wrapped around your waist as you squeezed her back to bring her closer to you. Her hands were wrapped around your cheeks.

-Okoye shook her head, "you two should learn to lock the door. You have no idea who I could've been." You two pulled away breathless, you didn't even bother to pull away from each other.

-"Don't tell-" "T'challa, yes I know what to do." Okoye then walked away without another word.

-You were shocked and then turned to her, "just wondering, are you out?"

-She laughed, "yes darling I'm a proud Pansexual, you?" "_____" (fill in with your own)

-Then the two of you continued making out.

-When cuddling, she is definitely the little spoon, her head is on your chest (she loves your boobs) and just you in general.

-T'challa was more wary of you because you were a Stark, their mother adored you and had assumed you'd keep her out of trouble (you became her partner in crime instead whoops)

-But when Tony found out, he was fucking ecstatic. You were dating someone he could get along with. Which even though it wasn't his relationship he was happy it was with someone he didn't hate.

-You two kickstarted a LGBTQ+ youth foundation, safe houses were opening all over the world for LGBTQ+ people. You ran that mostly and Shuri specialized in her life changing tech for trans people to get easier access to correct medications and clothes and binders.

-Eventually you moved to Wakanda, much to your fathers dismay (because he'll miss you) but he was happy because he knew you were in the second safest place (the first being with him, cause he's your dad).

-Five years after you two started dating (so you started when you were sixteen as she is sixteen in the black panther movie. So you two are 21) You two get an apartment overlooking the city and it's a fucking penthouse because you two are the top rich bitches.

-When you two move in together, your library takes up a full master bedroom of just books, two giant bean bags sit in the middle of the room for you two to sit and read. Fairy lights are strung up on the bookshelves and candles rest on the bedside tables next to the bean bags. It's easily your favorite part of the penthouse.

-Who's the worst cook? Her. She tried to make your favorite chinese dish but ended up mixing up the spices horribly. But you loved her enough to keep eating it, then kindly suggested that you should cook more. And since then you have.

-When you get drunk (you're the partier out of the two of you) she'll take the makeup off of your face and make sure you drink water and get into pajamas.

-You give her back massages after a long day in the bent over a project in the lab.

-You two send each other dumb videos of dogs all. the. time. Especially when Shuri is in royalty meetings and wanting to blow her brains out. It drives the Elders and Grandpa "delete that footage" T'challa nuts.

-FACE. MASKS.

-She steals your clothes more, you have more baggy, modernized clothes. They're a great change from the corsets she often has to wear (it's the best of both worlds for her).

-But once you wore a fancy Wakanda outfit that actually killed her cause you looked so damn good.

-But since so much of your lives revolve around tech (you being a CEO of the Wakanda LGBTQ+ Youth Foundation and her being...well... Shuri) you two have two hours of no phones or tech every single night.

-Late nights are a NO GO. Everybody in your lives knows about your relationship so they know not to make you two late for anything. Because they know how much work you two put in to insure things go as smoothly as possible for everyone involved. You made their lives easier so they make yours and even have late nights themselves (in secret of course, they won't let the boss wives know they stay late cause they know your selfless asses and know it'd ruin date nights)

-But you two know anyway (cause, duh) and sneakily add more money to their workers bank accounts.

-You two are both prideful, of course she's a genius and so are you. But, you two have no problem admitting you're wrong to each other and apologizing.

-Fights are healthy, in means you communicate. But you two don't fight very often, unless you count fighting over watching Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

-In the end, you two have one of the most communicating relationships in the world. You were teenage sweethearts and stayed together since.

#shuri #WLW #shurific #sapphicmsmarvel #Carol Danvers #wanda maximoff #maria hill #shuri x reader #fanfic

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mlek13 · 3 years

Text

Spring, Year 6: Farmer

Several of my third generation merchants are now young adults and I am eager for them to marry and start generation four. Gabriel is the middle class (and perhaps the entire kingdom’s) most eligible bachelor, but it is difficult to date when your family has a business to run.

So he gets to make a lot of community lot visits this season. I initially started to play the Carpenter household first, but the game crashed. Before it crashed, Gabriel, on a date with Andrea Carpenter, decided he wanted to marry Jayne Peasant. I was hoping to rekindle that want, but no such luck.

Caleb and Aiyanna’s youngest grow up. (I am really bad at remembering which child is which in a pair of teens, even when they have obvious differences, like hair color. At some point I will have to tell them apart and I will probably come back to this post to see if I said which was which and be disappointed.) Linus and Elijah are now at the child stage.

Linus, Elijah, Clarence. So many similar looking little boys! And their much older brother Gabriel, who definitely stands out.

This family loves to dance.

And their moves are highly entertaining, especially when the twins bop in sync.

Not only is it difficult to date on a business lot, it is also difficult to date with your little brother’s tagging along and begging for your attention.

Gabriel and Elizabeth head out to a public garden for the afternoon.

Of course, community lots have their own distractions.

At least this date has triggered some marriage wants, too bad it’s for two ladies at once and with the corresponding fears. You aren’t giving me much to work on, Gabe! (I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose, so he can continue playing the field.)

In addition to the peasant and the princess, he is also into the twin Carpenter sisters.

I think he and Andrea have a stronger romantic connection than he and Coraline do. When I played the Carpenter’s lot, Andrea seemed more into Gabriel and Coraline seemed more open to finding someone else.

Caleb reaches elder status this season.

Elizabeth invites Gabriel on a group outing, with a lot of shady characters in tow.

I hadn’t realized Princess Elizabeth had fallen in with the nighttime crowd.

After some time at the tavern, they all head back to the Farmer’s lot.

Caleb: Wow, what type of makeup do you use to get your skin that complexion?

Count Ray is not amused.

I’m not sure what I missed going on here. I think Lakshmi just dumped Count Ray as one of her lovers.

Count Ray also takes this opportunity to turn his younger son, Vincent, into a vampire.

He tries the same on Caleb, but Caleb isn’t having it.

Meanwhile, Vlad is obsessed with this chicken.

Before the season is over, Aiyanna also celebrates her elder birthday.

#ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 #royalkingdomchallenge #merchant class #farmer household

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wongiemei · 4 years

Text

1. First Rings

Standing upon the pedestal, servants and handmaidens rushed around to look for any other accessory that could be used to make you look more beautiful and enchanting than you already were. The blood-red dress that contrasted against your pale porcelain skin had real gold embedded into them, shimmering and sparkling against the light from the chandelier hung above. Annoyance radiated from you and they shuddered, your aura so powerful that it felt light a heavy weight was suddenly placed on their shoulders.

“My daughter, for today is your wedding day, you must show your acceptance of this arrangements and not embarrass our family,” said a voice from the door. You didn’t even bother to turn around but just sighed unhappily.

This was all because of her.

“Mother, for one day, can you please stick your fangs in other places rather than my own neck?” You commented causing her to lowly growl at you and approach you causing the handmaidens to squeak in fright and make way.

“Just because you are getting married to that Orendian Prince doesn’t mean you can talk like that to the one who gave birth to you,” threatened your mother. The servant girls in the room looked back and forth between the mother and daughter, admiring how you didn’t look scared nor annoyed.

It was blank. Like a canvas, waiting to be painted on.

The bright redness of your mother’s eyes mirrored your own but yours were becoming dull, not feeding for the last 24 hours.

You can see the flair and the fire raging behind those eyes but you just scoffed and laughed humorlessly.

“You see, the difference between us, Mother, is that I will be the queen to both kingdoms one day. Not only will I have Kalon, but Orenda as well. But the most important part is, I’ll be more powerful than you.” You whispered that last part, knowing full well she heard what you said and she raised a hand, ready to slap you but you just simply looked at her well-adorned fingers and she froze.

With your eyes fleeting back to meet hers, the corners of your lips rose to a smirk and you looked at a servant through the mirror saying, “Find all of my golden rings. Fill my fingers until every inch is covered in gold. Unless it is done, consider yourselves as feeding to the soldiers.”

Your mother watched the servants scurry to your jewelry boxes and rummage for any other rings, desperate to find any golden jewelry that could potentially save their life.

Meanwhile they were busy, you grabbed the opportunity to speak to your mother away from their eyes. Finally having the courage you never gained from your 186 years of living, you delicately grabbed your mother’s chin to face her to you.

Your actions seemed to fuel the fire inside her more but it didn’t matter you. “Listen to me, woman. You have done this to yourself. I’m merely your pawn in your chess board but I will play on my own rules and I get to choose my moves.”

The tall, golden building was in a buzz and excitement was heard from the chatter going on in the room. Husbands shook hands and wives held their daughters close as they introduced suitable young men to one day ask the little girl’s hand in marriage. To anyone, they looked like normal human beings by the way they acted and they moved about, sipping a glass of red liquid.

But, they were far from normal.

These vampires have been around for thousands of years and they have watched the world evolve into what it is now. Many wars were caused by the vampire women but the bloodshed was done by the vampire men.

The oldest vampires in the room were the Council of Elders as they have been around since Ramesses the Great and one was even a diplomat from China.

Due to their old age and highest status in the Vampire World, they were rarely seen out and only attended the most important meetings or events that would change the history of their kind forever.

This occasion is considered one of them as today was going to be the day that all blood-shed between the fueding houses would end and would shift their attention to human business. The most powerful kingdoms, Kalon and Orenda, have bared their fangs at one another for millennia and caused the deaths of many powerful members of the Coven.

The Prince of Orenda stood wearing white, a contrast to his blood-red eyes. His blonde hair was gelled to place and he scanned the room, recognizing some but there were others he didn't know. The atmosphere was joyful and excitement reeked from the King and Queen of both kingdoms but Jaemin was anything but happy.

“Nervous, Jae?” A voice from behind him held a teasing tone. Turning around, Jaemin cracked a smile, seeing his best friends.

The Twins from House Cerilian, Lee Donghyuck and Lee Jeno.

The Cousins from House Dormir, Huang Renjun with Zhong Chenle as Crown Prince.

The youngest from House Vermille, Park Jisung.

Renjun was the one who spoke and stood beside him, prompting the others to stand beside him too.

“Never. I will take a Kalonian wife and breed mixed blood children.” A sharp smile emphasized Jaemin's sarcasm causing Jeno to roll his eyes.

“Jaemin, remember this is the Red Princess you speak so rash about. If you force yourself upon without her consent or anger her, she has all power to condemn you and your kingdom and she won’t stop till she has your head.”

Jeno’s warning made Jaemin sharply turn to him and growled lowly, moving his eyes away towards the crowd to maintain his poker face. “She’s my bride, my wife, and I’m her husband. If she was raised well, she should know how to act like a woman, not a child.”

In front of a statue of Lucifer, a man stood in all red clothing with the original Book of the Dead on his bony, milky hands. The prince and the princess, wearing the 2 colors of the Coven, stood in front of him, facing the hideous statue of the horned fallen angel, clutching the head of the archangel Michael.

“Friends and family, we have gathered here today to bind the Kalonian Princess and the Orendian Prince. To seal the bond between rivaling houses and turn our focus on to more important issues at hand. Let us make history with the intertwining fates of our future leaders.”

Standing with your right hand on top of his left hand, your arms started to tire as your hands were raised to your shoulders to show that they were being conjoined. You quickly glanced at Jaemin and noticed how he clenched his jaw with his red eyes being fixated on the decaying old man.

A little boy, must be an assistant, placed a cushion with 2 rings resting on the crimson red cloth on the table in front of the old man. They were encrusted with diamonds and the bands were real gold.

“Each of you take the ring closest to your beloved,” he instructed and you and Jaemin grabbed a ring that was farthest from you both. “Slip these bands on to the ring finger of your beloved’s hand.”

The jewelry became the second ring on your ring finger but it shined the most with the big chunk of diamond resting on it.

“These signify the start of your marriage and your First Rings as wedded beloveds to symbolize the never-ending cycle like the shape of your bands. At this time, if the Highest Maiden and the Highest Damoiseau please place the cup of Judas on to the pedestal.”

The two of you turned slightly to see your Highest Maiden, your trusted servant Ari and an Orendian diplomat you’ve seen before with the name of Jeno.

The small brown cup rested on the white marble block and the both of you were instructed to held your arms above it.

“Crown Princess Y/N, please take this knife and repeat after me,” he instructed causing you to hold the dagger against your skin and repeated every word that escaped his mouth.

“I, Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda, take this dagger before me and draw my blood that traces to my lineage full of Kings and Queens of House Kalon. Today I will bind my blood to thee, Na Jaemin, Crown Prince of House Orenda, Stormbringer of the North, Brother of the Coven, future King of House Kalon and House Orenda in front of the Dark Lord, the Council of Elders, and the Coven. An oath I will make to lead our kingdoms to prosperity and to continue the legacy our forefathers have built for us. So please, take my blood and feast on the ambrosia from the Gods, my king.”

Without even flinching, the blade ran across your porcelain skin and the red liquid quickly flowed into the cup and you held it in place until it slowed down, Ari handing you a rag to clean the mess.

You passed the dagger to Jaemin and he wrapped his hand around yours first before grabbing the golden hilt of the silver dagger. A small smirk formed on his face and he held it to his arm like you before saying the same thing without assistance.

“I, Crown Prince Jaemin of House Orenda, Stormbringer of the North, Brother of the Coven, future King of House Kalon and House Orenda, take this dagger before me and draw my blood that traces to my lineage full of Kings and Queens of House Orenda. Today marks my bond with Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda, as our bloods fuse into the cup of Judas, marking our fates to be sealed. I solemnly swear to you my everlasting loyalty and my protection as the army of House Orenda will stand by in your defense to whoever and whatever may bring you and Kalon harm. So please, take the mixture of our bloods and feast on our vows and accept my oath to you, my queen.”

As per tradition, the brides were the ones who drank first and you swiftly handled the cup and looked down at the beautiful colors of Jaemin’s being light red while yours was mahogany red.

Then a thought hit you.

This was it.

Once the liquid touches your tongue, you are eternally bound to this man and you will remain as his wife and queen to his kingdom till the day you die. Your loyalty will forever side to him and if you were to become a widow, you can never take another man to be a replacement of your former spouse.

Hesitating for a second, you turned to look at the Kalon Council and the looks from your family, friends, and more specifically, your parents. They raised an eyebrow and motioned to drink from the cup and your eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening again.

You turned your attention back to the cup and up to Jaemin who gave you an amused look at the way you were acting. Gulping lightly, you raised the cup to your lips and winced at the burn of the sworn blood and the trail left burning sensations all the way to your stomach.

Placing it down, Jaemin drank the rest of it and the old man yelled out Latin incantations and before you know it, the audience stood up, clapping.

“I present before you, the Coven, the Council of Elders, Kalon, Orenda, Lucifer, the union of unholy matrimony. All hail! Crown Prince and Princess, Y/N and Jaemin!”

You blanked out during the party.

There was a big slaughter fest and a human girl found in the woods was given as an offering from the Hunters Council, who you and Jaemin drank first from and eventually, your High Maidens and his High Damoiseaux pounced onto the poor girl.

Did you feel bad?

No.

Because of her kind, your people were being slaughtered and burned at the steak being accused of being vampires and witches.

Yes, it was true.

But it was still the blood of your people and if you needed to bring bloodshed to avenge their deaths, you will.

By the time it was over, you were still in shock and you missed Jaemin holding your hand in the carriage as he sat opposite of you. He looked out of the window and you wondered why your parents could ever sacrifice you to a monster like him.

There were rumors about the boy.

Jaemin slaughtered the entirety of House Pezzerio up North since the said House launched an ambush attack towards one of his cousins who were vacationing up in the mountains for winter, resulting to the death of the youngest child, Wooseon. He was a family man who would do anything to protect his loved ones and claim as many lives as he needed to.

So, when news spread about the extinction of House Pezzerio, Jaemin was found guilty but walked away without being charged for his crimes under Beelzebub’s Vow which stated that ‘any act of revenge on any attack of the royal family will result in the death of anyone associated with the accused’.

‘If a man is capable of killing an entire House, who says I can live until I turn 200?’

The entire ride was spent in silence, relishing in the last few minutes of being rivals and preparing the mentality of husband and wife.

“Your Highnesses, we have arrived at your estate.”

The coachman opened the door for you and you held your dress, trying not to trip on it. Jaemin held his arm out for you and you reluctantly slipped your arm through his and followed the lead of the Head Servant to where your shared bedroom would be located.

“I cannot go beyond this door, your highnesses. No staff is allowed to enter until the room has been consummated.”

At the mention of ‘consummate’, your mind became empty and you were pretty sure if you had a heart, it would be beating rapidly by now. From the human novels and texts you’ve read, it describes having blood rush up to your cheeks and heat rushing down past your abdomen and your marriage becoming official with the connection of your bodies.

Stepping into the grand room, Jaemin turned to shut the door and locked it before crossing it to go to the dresser.

“Don’t listen to the rumors you’ve heard about me, princess.”

His rough and low voice startled you from your misery and you jutted your chin high. “You may be husband but you cannot dictate what I choose to hear and not to hear.”

Jaemin chuckled amused, “Yes, your highness, I am your husband.” He confirmed and you were about to scoff until he turned around and met you with his stare. “But I am also, your king.”

He walked over to where you remained standing and went behind you to hug you from behind, letting his hands wander across the front of your dress. You bit your lip and you shook from both anger and humiliation as you knew you couldn’t stop him. He buried his face in your neck before taking a deep sniff and placing little kisses on your skin.

“Where should I put my mark on your pretty little neck? It’s too beautiful to ruin so I must decide carefully,” he mumbled.

His hands remained at your hips and the euphoric energy Jaemin might be purposefully radiating right now was affecting you. With a content sigh, you leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continued his assault on your neck.

But something inside of you snaps and you ripped his hands away from you, moving quickly to wrap your hands around his neck but he was faster.

With one hand, he restrained both of yours and he looked down on you, letting him raise your head up with his index finger and clenching your jaw. “Did you know that little stunt of yours is considered as treason, my love?”

The nickname made you angrier, “I’m the future Queen, I know my laws. Failing to request consent is considered a higher crime, my king.”

“But I am king and my word is law. Shouldn’t you be scared, sweetheart?”

Jaemin stared at you with a small smirk causing you to spit out, “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Oh, but you should be,” he mumbled, still inspecting the golden flecks in your eyes.

“But I’m not and I won’t be.” Your defiant tone made him scoff lightly before forcefully grabbing your jaw with his strong grip.

“Aren’t you just a pretty little thing?” His mocking tone caused you to spit to his face.

“I’m no thing. I’m Crown Princess Y/N of House Kalon, Red Princess of the East, Sister of Macbeth’s Witches, future Queen of House Kalon and House Orenda. I’m not just a pretty little thing you can place on a shelf for everyone to admire.”

But all he did was look at you intently, “But don’t forget, Princess. You’re mine and if you really are the future Queen, didn’t you learn to listen to your King?”

a/n: here’s the first chapter. not really that long but its kinda hard since its kinda the introductory part and not really the real tea yet.

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