#castle j x reader

[atinyjules]

Hi!! I saw you write for MCND, could I please request a Castle J x GN! reader where he gets all sad and droopy and you comfort him? Thank you :3

You o'clock ft. Castle J

A/N: Castle J! Tbh I've been waiting, WAITING! for someone to request an mcnd fic for the Longestt! Time! So I'm pretty excited for this one.

I only write fics with a named female oc or reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship au, comfort au, angst

Pairings: Castle J x Yunhee (fem oc)

Warnings: a little angsty

Was it the coffee he spilled on himself? Or was it the way he kept messing up his recording session? Or was it the way he struggled with learning the dance move everyone got right at once? Or was it the heavy traffic he got stuck in? Or was it the way everything he did wrong today suddenly collided on him in the middle of a headaching traffic?

Or was it everything?

Cause nothing was good today.

As Seongjun dragged himself up the stairs to your shared apartment, it was obvious for anyone who saw him that he infact had a bad day at work today. Shoulders slumped, eyes drooping and hair disheveled, his day was painfully obvious.

He let out a sigh as the key missed the keyhole. Looking up at the ceiling for a second, he pushed the key into the keyhole and slowly opened the door and entered.

"I'm back." He said in a low and tired tone as he let himself collapse on the floor before lazily removing his shoes.

Yunhee's

"I'm back." I worriedly looked towards the door and took off my apron before making my way to the doorway to see Seonjun sprawled on the floor with his eyes closed.

Win wasn't lying, he looks beat up.

"Welcome back, baby." I said in a calm and loving tone as I sat on the floor to bring his head to my lap.

"Mhm." He only made a sound as a reply and comfortably set his head on my lap.

"Bad day?" I asked as he nodded, eyes still closed.

I played with his hair and mssaged his scalp as he sighed in content.

"How about you go take a shower and change into some comfortable clothes? Then we can have dinner and go to sleep or talk if you want?" I asked as he groaned.

"Don't wanna move." He blurted as I smiled and pushed your hair up to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Baby, come on. You'll feel a lot more relaxed after you shower and change." I said and he opened his eyes and got up slowly.

"Is the water ready?" He asked, voice still low and droopy.

"Yeah, I put your favourite bath salts as well." I say as he give me a small weak smile and hugs me. After some seconds I try to break the hug but he holds me tight.

"I thought you were gonna bath?" I asked in a teasing manner but got worried when he didn't respond.

"Baby, you okay?" I asked as he buried his head on the crook my neck and shook his head.

I hugged him tightly and rubbed his back.

"I'm useless." he said through the fabric of my sweater, voice shaky.

"No, you're not. Junnie...you're not useless...you're quite the opposite really. You're such a great and amazing person both inside and out, as a person, friend, leader and my lovely boyfriend." I say as your hold on me tightens.

"But I did everything wrong today." he said finally breaking into a sob.

"Oh, baby." I blurted put and held you in my arms.

"It's just today baby, don't worry. Today was just a bad day, everyone has bad days. Yours was today but tomorrow will be better, I promise." I whispered as he shook his head.

"What if tomorrow is worse?" He said with a sob as I pulled away from the hug to look at his face. I made him face me as I wiped his tears away.

"It won't, and if it is I'll fight everyone if I have to. Even your boss." I said making him chuckle as I wiped the remaining tears.

"Thanks." he said as he wiped his eyes. I kissed his lips and turned him around.

"Now go take a bath and we'll cuddle after dinner." I say as he nodded.

While he showered I set up the table for dinner. After Win called I made sure to make his favourite dishes, drew the water for his bath and made the bed extra fluffy and soft.

After a while I felt arms wrap around me making me smile as Seongjun placed his head on my shoulder.

"Feel better?" I asked as he nodded.

"Just a little." he mumbled as I turned to face him.

"Let's have dinner, I made your favourite. After that we can cuddle." I said making him frown.

"But you have work, it's 7 o'clock." He said making me remember but throw it to the side.

Work can wait, but cheering up the love of my life and making him feel better can't.

"Who says it's 7 o'clock? It's You o'clock." I say making him smile as I hugged you.

"You always know how to make me feel better, thanks baby. I love you." he said before pressing a loving kiss to my lips as I smiled and kissed him back.

"I love you more." I said and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Minjae's

I'm most definitely putting a ring on your finger one day.

"You're a keeper, baby." I mumble only for me to hear as we cuddle it out.

What better way to make a comeback than with a fluffy Minjae fic, am I right??!

Well, I hope y'all liked it, as much as I did writing it! 💖✨

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 💖✨

#mcnd imagines #mcnd #mcnd x reader #mcnd masterlist #mcnd fics #mcnd ffs #mcnd fluff #mcnd imagine masterlists #mcnd oneshots #mcnd au #seongjun x reader #castle j x reader

[slytherinshua]

　　　mcnd masterlist ⟡₊ ⊹

⋆˙⟡ = author's pick !

　　　　seongjun

nothing yet . . .

　　　　seungmin

nothing yet . . .

　　　　minjae

nothing yet . . .

　　　　huijun

[11:34am]

genre: fluff. timestamp. | wc: 470.

　　　　junhyuk

nothing yet . . .

#divider by cafekitsune #﹒slytherinshua 𓈃 ⵌ #mcnd #castle j #bic #minjae #huijun #win #mcnd castle j #mcnd bic #mcnd minjae #mcnd huijun #mcnd win #seongjun #son seongjun #seungmin #nam seungmin #song minjae #no huijun #junhyuk #bang junhyuk #castle j x reader #bic x reader #minjae x reader #huijun x reader #win x reader #junhyuk x reader #seongjun x reader #seungmin x reader #nam seungmin x reader

[winnie-won]

thinking….what if i start posting one shots…… would you guys like them? i have a few in mind for mcnd (win) but also please request stuff because i would have no idea otherwise

#mcnd #mcnd x reader #mcnd win #mcnd bic #mcnd castle j #mcnd huijun #minjae mcnd #mcnd headcannons #mcnd imagines #mcnd oneshots

[merakiui]

100%

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.

The windowpane is spattered with rain.

Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.

For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.

Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.

And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.

Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.

She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.

Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.

Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.

Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.

“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.

Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”

“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”

“If I must.”

A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”

“I hope.”

He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.

“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”

“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.

He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”

“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”

Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”

“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”

“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”

You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.

“My phone is dying, Malleus.”

“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”

“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”

“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”

“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”

“I’m afraid not.”

Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.

“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”

You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.

“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”

“Do you not have memories?”

“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”

“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.

You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.

“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”

But maybe there is no right thing.

“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”

“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”

You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.

To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.

“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”

He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”

“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”

“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”

“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”

“As do I.”

You roll your eyes.

“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”

“I’m simply voicing a fact.”

Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.

“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”

“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”

I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.

You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.

You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…

“I’m not going to be a good mother.”

“You can’t know that.” 

“I can’t even take care of myself.”

“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”

“I’d rather you not.”

With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.

You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.

Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.

In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.

Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.

You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.

To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.

But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.

Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.

The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.

Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.

Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.

Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus

[daemonsdivorcerock]

THE HEIR WHO NEVER WAS || d.Targaryen

IN WHICH: a decade after the two rogues of house targaryen run away, they live a content life in pentos until they are invited to laena velaryon’s funeral on driftmark and are forced to reunite with their dysfunctional family.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: sequel to “taming of the shrew”. i advise that you read that first. also reader is described as having silver hair. meraxes, the dragon of the first rhaenys targaryen, is alive for selfish reasons/j. sorry if this is shit.

WARNINGS: incest (bucket loads), westerosi shenanigans, mentions of death, childbirth, children, daemon being daemon, otto hightower, maiming/bodily injury, angst, fighting, dysfunctional family, targaryen shit etc

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“THAT’S IT, PRINCESS, ONE MORE PUSH!” the young Pentosi midwife joyfully encourage, crouching at the end of a double bed, the white sheets tarnished with the crimson blood of the Heir Who Never Was.

(Name) panted, chest heaving. Sweat clung to her brow, eyebrows knitted, eyes closed and nose scrunched as her features contorted with pain. Her hands were occupied. One gripping Daemon’s alarmingly pale one in a vice-grip and the other holding her swollen baby bump.

“I AM PUSHING YOU CHILD-LOOKING CUNT!” (Name) shrieked hysterically. Daemon covered his mouth in a failed attempt to conceal his snicker, “DAEMON, SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ARE NOT BEDDING ME EVER AGAIN, YOU STROPPY SMALL-COCKED GIT!”

The room was soon filled with the loud set of shrieks that the whole castle could here. (Name) began to son happily as Daemon kissed her sweaty brow. “A boy, my Princess,” the midwife happily said, holding the naked, squirming, blood-stained babe in her arms.

“It is all over now, my shrew,” Daemon softy whispered, kissing her temple lovingly, “The babe is safe. He is healthy. He is kicking like a goat. Our son,”.

Minutes later, the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing sat on the bed, doting on their new son. The sound of subtle whispers, odd for their daughters, came from the corridor. The door softly opened, revealing their brood of silver-haired daughters in tow with a servant, Elaine.

“Come here, girls,” (Name) beckoned, smiling happily at her daughters, “Come and meet your younger brother,”.

Their eldest, Daenerys, was mature for an almost eleven-year-old and led her younger sisters. After an encounter in a brothel in the weeks leading up to Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor Velaryon, (Name) refused the Moon Tea from the Grand Maester and she hadn’t regretted it.

Daenerys was the eldest of now six children. Aemma, Rhaenys, Alyssa and Rhaella followed their eldest sister. “Girls, this is your brother,” Daemon said, holding three-year-old Rhaella on his lap, whilst five-year-old Alyssa climbed onto the bed with the help of nine-year-old Rhaenys.

Seven-year-old Aemma sat closest to (Name), doting on her brother. “This is Baelon,” (Name) told the girls, gesturing to the slumbering babe in her arms, fondling smiling at the sleeping baby boy.

The girls gushed over their new brother, each getting a turn to gently hold the babe. For none of them knew what the future held for them in the days coming.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Laena Velaryon was dead. Set herself aflame after failing to give birth. The funeral was in to be held on Driftmark, as she had wanted. She’d left behind her husband, Ser Harwin Strong, and their twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

The funeral was teemed with tension and was a sombre occasion as Laena’s stone coffin was lowered into the sea. Laena’s mother Rhaenys looked devastated. Ten years it’d been since (Name) had seen her family. And much had occurred in ten years.

Alicent had bore her father two more sons, Aemond and Daeron. Rhaenyra had bore three sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys and the infant Joffrey, who were in no method possible Laenor’s biological children and had an, as Daemon put it, “entirely coincidental and unmarked resemblance to the Commander of the City Watch”.

After the initial funeral procedures, (Name) had noticed how the girls had made Baela and Rhaena smile a little and how her daughter Rhaenys had taken a shining to Aemond. Daenerys and Aemma were in deep conversation with Helaena. The interactions made her smile.

The girls had yet to meet their cousins, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Or their aunt, Rhaenyra. Rhaella clung onto (Name)’s skirts, hiding behind the thick, black velvet of the dress’ material.

Baelon was a heavy sleeper, currently residing in his mother’s arms, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took and gave. She’d reunited with her cousins, Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon, offering her sympathies for what happened to Laena.

As children and teenagers, (Name) had shared a sweet friendship with Laena, comforting her after the events at the Heir’s Tournament all those years before. They’d danced at the celebrations for Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding ceremony.

Her father looked terrible. His hair had thinned and he looked frankly horrible. Yet, he somehow gave his eldest daughter a smile. “(Name),” Viserys spoke. His voice sounded heavy as if it pained him to utter the word, “It is…good to you, my daughter,”.

(Name) gave him a half-curtsey, careful not to wake Baelon. “As it is equally good to see you, father,” she spoke, half-smiling, “Ten years. It certainly has been a long time,”.

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Alyssa and Rhaella trailed behind their rogue of a father. “Brother,” Daemon greeted, “Time hasn’t been too kind on you,”.

(Name) thought he’d be upset but Viserys laughed slightly at Daemon’s comment. “These are your granddaughters,” (Name) said, “Daenerys, she is ten. Rhaenys is nine. Aemma is seven. Alyssa is five. Rhaella is three,”.

Viserys fondly smiled at each of his granddaughters. “They have their mother’s beauty,” the King mentioned. (Name) noticed how he’d visibly tensed at hearing Aemma and Alyssa’s names but smiled, “Is this my grandson, who cried a little during the precessions?”.

Daemon smirked. “His name is Baelon,” he casually mentioned, causing the king to visibly tense again, “After Father. He was born but three weeks ago,”.

“That was around the same time as when Joffrey was born,” a voice chimed in. Rhaenyra, with her sons,“Sister. Uncle. It is good to see you both again. And meet my nieces and nephew,”.

(Name) was elder than Rhaenyra by a year. Their relationship soured when Rhaenyra was named the heir to the Iron Throne, despite (Name) being Viserys’ eldest child. “Sister,” she smiled, “Those must be my nephews. Jace, Luke and…Joffrey, he’s inside, is he not? They will be good knights, so…Strong,”.

Viserys’ face blanched. Rhaenyra glared whilst the boys looked confused. “Do not take is as an insult, boys,” (Name) spoke in a manner that bordered on mocking, “It is good to be Strong, is it not, sister?”.

Daemon began to snicker. (Name) handed Baelon to Viserys, who held him in his remaining arm. (Name) sharply elbowed Daemon in the ribs, causing him to spill his cup of wine slightly.

Rhaenyra huffed, walking away to speak to Laenor. Luke followed Rhaenyra suit. Jace lingered. “Aunt,” he asked, catching (Name)’s attention, “May I ask you something?”.

“Of course, dear boy,” (Name) spoke, smiling at the brunette boy, “You may ask me whatever you wish,”

“Mother will not be honest with me about this matter…” Jace spoke, nervously fiddling with his fingers, “Am I a…bastard? Is Ser Harwin my father?”.

(Name)’s eyes widened in horror. Was Rhaenyra truly planning to put a bastard on the Iron Throne? She always knew her father was metaphorically blind, but not this blind. She was blatantly aware of her father’s favouritism to Rhaenyra. But she never knew it was this bad.

“Yes,” she spoke quietly, “I cannot believe your mother is not being honest about this to you. Harwin Strong is your father. Laenor is not your father. Nor is he Luke or Joffrey’s father. I am so sorry, dear boy,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Earlier in the day, whilst Daemon was holding Baelon, (Name) found herself skulking around in black velvet after Laena’s casket had been lowered into the ocean.

“Hand turns loom…” the dreamlike voice of her younger sister, Helaena Targaryen, uttered, letting a spider crawl across the skin of her hand, “Spool of Red…Spool of Black…dragons of flesh…weaving dragons of thread,”.

(Name) crouched next to Helaena. “Sister,” Helaena greeted, smiling at her older sister, “May I tell you something?”.

The older woman smiled at her younger sister. “Of course, Hel,” (Name) spoke, “Anything,”.

As an infant, Helaena was restless and cried with her whole being unless she was held by (Name). “I have…strange dreams,” Helaena confessed, “And those dreams…become real as time goes on…do you think that is normal?”.

(Name) placed a hand on Helaena’s shoulder. “My dear Helaena,” she spoke, catching Helaena’s attention from the spider, “It is. You see…many years ago, before the fall of Old Valyria, our ancestor, Daenys, had a dream. She dreamed of the fall of Old Valyria two and ten years before it actually happened,”.

Helaena’s eyes widened, beckoning her sister to continue. “As Targaryens, we are known for our ability to ride dragons. Some Targaryens had the ability to dream of the future. Dragon Dreamers. I am a Dreamer, just like you. My sister, don’t ever let Aegon make you feel inferior without your consent. You are a marvel,”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The sun was barely setting when she discovered a horrific sight. Otto Hightower, who’d been reinstated as Hand of the King, was roughing up Aegon, who was half-drunk and slumped against the wall.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Lord Hand?” (Name) spoke, glaring at hole into Otto Hightower’s soul. Her voice had a frightening steeliness to it.

Otto bowed. She truly resented Otto, as a man and as Hand of the King. “Princess,” he greeted, “There is nothing to see here. I suggest you rejoin Prince Daemon inside,”.

She scoffed. “I would rather feed myself to Meraxes than listen to a word you have to say,” (Name) spat, folding her arms, “I know a few dragons who would gladly set you alight, akin to a torch. Caraxes, Meraxes, Vermithor and Silverwing, for instance,”.

Otto visibly tensed. He bowed and walked past her. “Sister,” Aegon drunkenly slurred, as (Name) heaved teenager up from the ground, “-Nice to see you again! I missed you!”.

“I missed you too, Egg,” (Name) smiled to the boy, placing his arm across her shoulders for support and guiding him up the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, sweet Prince,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

It was the late evening when (Name) had been approached. The events following Laena’s funeral had been drastic. Young Aemond had claimed Vhagar as his mount, causing a fight between him, Jace, Luke, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Baela and Rhaena.

It was an honest accident when Daenerys maimed Aemond and caused him to lose and eye. Alicent understood that. What she did not understand was that it was in defence of Jace and Luke’s legitimacy.

It’d blown up into a full-blown fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent, one of which had come at the other with a Valyrian Steel Dagger belonging to Aegon the Conqueror. (Name) had stepped in and gotten cut across the bridge of her nose.

There was a sharp knock at the door, catching both the attentions of the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing. “Enter,” (Name) spoke. The doors opened, revealing the visage of Otto Hightower.

Daemon blanched. “Lord Hand,” he bitterly spoke, “Have you come to darken our door for the ordeal earlier?”.

Otto sent a steely glare Daemon’s way, causing the Rogue Prince to mockingly smirk at him. “I have not, Daemon,” Otto spoke. Alicent stood behind him, guiltily staring at (Name), “I have come to speak to Princess (Name),”.

This caught (Name)’s attention, who was rocking Baelon softly in her arms, their daughters had since retired to the guest chambers with Baela and Rhaena hours prior. “Speak plainly, Lord Hand,” (Name) commanded coolly, briefly making eye contact with Ser Criston Cole, “What brings to you my chambers at this time of night?”.

“I believe we are…aligned,” Otto mused, adjusting the pin on his emerald-coloured lapel, making Daemon scoff, “In our beliefs in regards to the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons and the line of succession,”.

He was putting salt into the all the right wounds. (Name) was still evidently bitter about her younger sister being named heir over her and her plans to put her bastard son on the throne.

“My father is a fool,” (Name) confessed, softly stroking Baelon’s silver-coloured tufts of hair, “Nothing would change that. He is blind to the truth. Rhaenyra is his favourite child and nobody can deny that. He cannot accept the truth that Jace, Luke and Joffrey are bastards,”.

Otto smirked. “What if it did not have to be that way?” Alicent asked. This made (Name) glance at her stepmother, “What if another were to inherit the throne after the King’s passing?”.

“How would you like to be Queen, (Name)?” The Hand of the King quickly asked, making (Name) glance at Daemon, holding Baelon closer to her chest.

#house of the dragon #hotd #asoiaf #fanfic #daemon targeryan #daemon x y/n #reader insert #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon x you #daemon targaryen #matt smith #xreader #targaryens #house targaryen #a song of ice and fire #the shrew of king’s landing

[yeonzzzn]

another beginning: sim jaeyun

a break the chain series: two / seven

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 3.2k

synopsis: with the boys and their mates preparing for war, old memories stir up for jake being in the castle, causing his focus to be else where besides the problems of the future. you try to bring him back to reality and face the past head on for the sake of a another new beginning.

genre: established relationship, vampire!jake, half-vampire!reader, angst, suggestive themes.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood + death, mild sex scene at beginning, pregnancy mentions, jake is kinda disassociated, lemme know if I missed anything lol.

prt 1: vampires bleeding | prt 2: you complete me

☾ heeseung(1) | jake(2) | jungwon(3) | sunghoon(4) | sunoo(5) | niki(6) | jay(7) ☽

“Jake,” you breathed, your nails digging into his biceps, “Babe.”

But your mate wasn't listening. His hands gripped the bedsheets as his hips rocked against yours, “You feel so good, my Luna Nova,” he whimpers in your ear, his lips kissing the shell of your ear and trailing kisses down to your neck, “Can’t get enough of you.”

You felt his fangs pierce your skin, digging into your neck just below your jaw, “J-Jaeyun!” you tried to keep the moan to a minimal level, your hand squeezing his biceps even tighter.

He sucked the blood from your neck, his moans vibrating against your skin as the iron liquid slipped down his throat, “You taste so good too, half breeds are on such a different level.”

You winced at his words, now tapping his shoulder, “Jake, listen to me.”

He pulled his fangs from your neck, tongue pressed flat against the wounds to soak up any blood that spilled out before the puncture holes sealed. He groans and rests his sweaty forehead against yours, “I’m listening, Luna Nova.”

You knew he wasn’t entirely listening, his mind was so far off on another planet that you weren’t even sure if your words were reaching him.

His dick twitched against your walls, “Fuck,” he hissed, moving his hands down to your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, “Squeeze me, babe.”

You didn’t. Instead dropping your legs to his hips, hands cupping his face, “Look at me, Jake.”

He finally opened his eyes, the crimson so dark yet so bright at the same time, so full of lust and loss. The man on top of you wasn’t your mate. The man you loved was so far buried beneath.

He kept up his pace, eyes staring deeply into yours, “I can still get pregnant, Jake,” you whispered, his dick twitching once again, signaling he was about to burst, “We need to be careful.”

Jake just shuts his eyes, “I want you pregnant. A cute little half-breed running around sounds so fucking good to me.”

“Babe, no,” you quickly said, “We can’t have a child with a war approaching.”

The war. This castle. The two things Jake wanted to forget about. He didn’t want to fight another war. He almost lost you once because of one, he can’t do it again.

But your words brought him back to earth and he slipped himself out, now rubbing himself against the skin of your stomach, releasing his load.

With shaky breaths, Jake rolled onto his back, resting his forearm against his eyes. You glanced over to him, noticing how his free hand gripped the bedsheets. You wanted to hug him, tell him it was going to be okay. But you knew with the thoughts racing in his mind, nothing would help.

Jake felt you shift on the bed, looking up at you just in time to see you walk into the bathroom to clean up the mess he made on you. Jake rolled to his side, staring at your naked body, taking in every curve and angle. His dead heart did flips and then sank at the realization you would still age. Slowly, but you still would. He would eventually lose you someday. It might not be now or even a couple thousand years from now, but he would. He wanted to find a way to keep you from aging, same as your twin brother, Archer. Just to keep you forever. Maybe the witch or elf might know something.

Jake continued to watch you move around the room, gathering your clothes and pulling them back on your body, wrapping your arrow bag over your torso and the bow strapped to your shoulder, “Where are you going?” Jake asked.

You pull your hair into a ponytail, “Jake, we need to get back. The others probably know we are missing by now.”

Right. The war training.

Jake sits up on the bed and scoots to the edge, pulling his boxers and training pants up and over his hips.

You walked to the door, taking one last look at him. Seeing how lost he was in his eyes. Your mate wasn’t here. And you didn’t know how to bring him back. You quickly slipped out of the room and headed back to the shooting range.

—

Jake ruffled his hair as he stood beside Jay, letting out a massive sigh.

“Dude,” Jay hissed, taking a step away, “You reek of sex.”

One thing Jake—and pretty much the others along with him besides Niki—learned is that sex smells are amplified with a mate, making it more clear to other vampires or mythical creatures that said creature is mated. You also didn’t know that, being that you only were ever around your parents, twin brother, and previous mate. If your family noticed, they never said anything. It’s one major reason why all seven boys and their mates all went separate ways after the war with Dorian ended, none of them could handle the smells. Poor Niki and __.

Jake just stares off to the floor and shrugs, “What's a man to do?”

Jay glances at him, “Dude, what is wrong with you?”

Jake ignores his question, lifting his hand and looking around the fighting gym. There were multiple different kinds of weapons in here, from different sword types, daggers, knives, chains, whips, bows, and arrows, the list goes on. Leave it up to the castle of the vampire king.

“Where’s Hee and Won?” Jake asked to change the topic, not seeing the leader or king anywhere on site.

Jay fully turns to Jake, crossing his arms, “Meetings with the royal guards and shit, don’t ignore my question.”

Jake continued to ignore him, glancing around the gym. Sunghoon stood in front of a wooden dummy, dual-wielding daggers and slicing cuts on it. Sunoo stood with your twin brother, Archer, fists raised and practicing boxing moves. Niki had a long sword in hand, more or less swinging it around doing cool tricks than practicing with it.

The mates were on the other side of the gym. You were teaching each of the ladies how to use a bow and arrow—showing each of them the basics of holding it and how to pull back the string with the arrow, teaching them how to mark the target and release the arrow.

Jay followed Jake’s glances to each spot he stared at in the gym, “Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not.”

“Jake,” the older said, stepping in front of him, “Is it YN? Are you worried?”

Jake shrugged. He wasn’t so much worried about you fighting in this war against Lilly. He was scared to lose you, yes, you were already taken from him once. But you fighting? Nah. Jake knew you could hold your own.

Jay sighs, “It’s the castle, isn’t it?”

Jake went still, holding his breath. Vampires didn’t need to breathe, obviously, it’s just something the turned ones still did to stay connected to their human selves, Jake assumed.

“Want to spar in the ring?” Jake asked, pointing to the fighting mat and walking away.

Jay followed behind him, thinking of how he was going to settle this one.

You weren’t the only one who had noticed a change in Jake since being here. It’s been a little over two weeks since arriving here and Jake has done literally everything he could to take his mind off the current issues. Trying to bury himself in something—more specifically, you—to keep his mind busy enough to forget everything else around him, completely being disassociated.

“Come on, man,” Jay scoffs, “Talk to me.”

Jake lifted up his fists, getting into a fighting stance, “I don’t have anything to say.”

Jay mimicked his stance, “I think you do.”

Jake was not getting pissed off, taking the first swing at Jay, but he dodged, quickly whipping himself behind Jake, knocking his knee into the back of Jake’s sending him down the mat, Jake’s knee barely hitting the rubber material before bouncing back up and lunging at Jay.

“You can’t even fight properly right now!” Jay snapped, “Can't even focus. You’re not here!”

“Shut up and fight me!” Jake snapped back, pushing Jay away from him, “Less talking.”

“No, we’re talking!” Jay rushes back at Jake. His arms wrapped around his neck and flipped him over. Jake was quick to recover, getting back on his feet before touching the ground and getting out of Jay’s grasp, “You can’t keep avoiding this!”

“I’m not avoiding anything!”

“Yes, you are!” Jay grabbed ahold of Jake’s shirt, and pulled him nearly inches away from his face, “You keep disappearing when you’re needed! and you always slip out halfway through meetings! It’s like you don’t care!”

“Shut up,” Jake warned, his fists grabbing a hold of Jay’s shirt too, “shut…up.”

The other boys could sense something was wrong through the pack bond, their eyes glancing over at Jake and Jay, not being sure whether to interrupt or not.

“No!” Jay hissed through his teeth, “You need to accept the past, need to fight through it!” Jake shook his head, his fangs slowly coming to a point and his eyes burning crimson, “You can’t keep burying yourself into YN either!”

“I said SHUT UP!” Jake yelled, trying to push Jay away from him but failing. Causing everyone’s eyes in the gym to look in their direction, “Don’t talk about my mate!”

“You don’t think we don’t notice it? Huh? How you are using her to distract yourself? You think sex is going to fix it?” Jake knew being balls deep inside you any chance he got wasn’t going to fix anything and was only a temporary distraction. He wasn’t purposely trying to use you, he fucking loved you for fucksakes, mated to you, sex was natural for him with you, but with being here…the memories…

Jake screamed, using all his strength to push Jay away, “I FUCKING SAID SHUT UP!” He wasn’t thinking clearly, he needed help, needed these memories to go away. To stop haunting him.

“Jake!” Jay yelled back at him, “You need to accept the past!”

“NO!”

The memories all came flooding back to him. From the moment he was created to the moment Heeseung killed the previous king and escaped with him and Jay.

The memory of the pain he felt when the old king bit his shoulder, sending every ounce of venom possible into his bloodstream. The old king left him alone on the floor as his body slowly turned, his fangs coming to a point as he clawed at the wooden floor of his once home, having no choice but to watch as the king fed on his family and then killed them.

The memory of all the innocent people Jake killed, and the smells of their blood filled his nose as he drank from their broken bodies in his arms. The smell of fires burning the bodies, watching as the old king laughed as the burnt flesh smell filled the air.

Memories of meeting Jay and Heeseung for the first time. They tried to save him, but Jake was not listening, always trying to find ways out of the castle, but the king was always finding out and punishing him. Breaking his bones one by one in front of all his followers, in front of Jay and Heeseung, and leaving him in front of the castle for his body to heal on its own through the painful process.

Every terrible memory flooded Jake's brain all at once, he fell to his knees, covered his ears, and screamed.

Archer was at Jake’s side instantly, “Jake, man, stop!” Archer pulled his hands off his face, “It’s just bad memories man!”

Just bad memories??

Archer might not officially be a part of the pack, but since he’s your twin, and felt everything you did, he had some ties to the pack. Specifically more with Jake than the others since he’s mated to you.

“Bad memories?!” Jake growled, shoving Archer away from him, “What the fuck do you know about bad memories?!” Jake stood to his feet, shoving his index finger into Archer’s chest, “Why the fuck are you even here man?! This war has fuck all to do with you!”

Archer gritted his teeth, fangs coming to a point, “Because I am here to protect my sister, something YOU should be fucking doing!” Archer slapped Jake’s hand away, “You need to get your shit together!”

Jake’s head spun, as his pack surrounded him, each of the boys calling his name and speaking to him at once. The memories of everyone watching as the old king broke his bones came back, he felt suffocated. His breathing became uneven and the world spun. He was having a panic attack.

“Jae!” your voice called to him. His vision was blurred as he looked for you, pinning his eyes on each person around him. But then he felt you, your head on his chest and arms wrapped tightly around him.

Tears filled his eyes as he dropped to the floor, you going down with him. He pushed you away just enough to bury his face into your chest, sobs left his lips as he gripped the back of your shirt. No one has seen Jake like this since Dorian took you away from him.

“Jae, it’s okay, I am right here,” you whispered into his ear.

His sobs slowly quieted down, taking deeper and deeper breaths until his body stopped shaking. He lifted his face up to look at you, to confirm that you indeed were right in front of him.

Jake looked around at his pack, his family, seeing the looks of sadness that they all gave him, and then noticing Jay was missing.

“Jake,” he turns to his left, seeing Heeseung, Jungwon, and Jay standing beside them. Heeseung eyes were soft as he looked down at his brother. Heeseung felt the pain Jake was in the moment he felt it, he was rushing out of his meeting with Jungwon at his side and seeing Jay rushing in at the same time. “Jake…” Heeseung whispered again.

Jake’s anger was back, hating the way his king, leader, and brother looked at him, “Stop looking at me like that!” he snapped.

E appeared from behind Heeseung, “You will not speak to your king that way!”

“E,” Heeseung warned, holding a hand up to him, “stay out of this,”

Jake was back on his feet, “I don’t need your guy's pity!” he scoffed, quickly making his way out of the gym, “You and Jay know the shit I had to go through! Stop looking at me like I am some lost dog!”

Jake broke out into a sprint, leaving everyone behind.

Your own tears started streaming down your face, you didn’t recognize that Jake just now. Heeseung knelt down at your side, cupping your face with his hands, “He needs you,” Heeseung swallowed back his shaky voice and tears, needing to be strong in this moment, to play king even when he didn’t want to right now, “please bring our brother back to us.”

You nodded at your king, quickly standing and running out of the gym.

—

You found your mate sitting in the corner of your shared bedroom at this castle, his eyes darting to you the moment you walked in. His body was slammed against yours immediately as the door closed. His tears stained your shirt as his hands gripped the back of it, “I am so sorry, baby please I am so sorry.”

You held him tightly, “Jake, what are you apologizing for?”

He took a deep breath, “For being too weak to accept the shitty things that have happened to me here. For not being strong enough for you. For taking my frustration and anger out on you in the way of sex to disassociate from reality.”

You held him tighter, “Jae, it’s okay. This place holds so many bad things, you have every right to feel like this. But I need you to talk to me so that I can understand and help.”

The last thing Jake wanted to do was talk about it, but after what happened today, he knew he had to.

The two of you sat on the edge of your bed, you held your mate's hands as he went through the motions of telling you everything. From how he got turned up until escaping the castle. The horrors Jake had to deal with, the memories that constantly filled his mind being at this castle. It broke your heart. Jake kept talking, going into the war with Dorian, the pain he felt losing you. That emptiness he felt. You felt it too when you were away from him, but you were more at ease, knowing that Jake was safe.

Jake continued, going on about how with this new war starting he realized how little time he had with you, that you still aged even if it was super slow, and how he would lose you one day. You’ve thought about it too. You already lost one mate and it killed you knowing Jake would someday have to feel that pain.

You released your hands from his, cupping his face, “Jae, we still have so much time, we’ll find a way to keep me with you forever until the end of time, okay? You’re not weak, but the strongest person I know. Not every vampire has come out of this hell you’ve been put through. You had Heeseung and Jay to help get you through this, they are probably struggling just as bad as you, and it’s all okay. The old king is dead, and Heeseung is doing his damndest to make sure the past stays there. We are all here for you, we love you so so deeply.”

Jake nodded. He knew Heeseung was struggling, probably the most out of him and Jay. Jake just felt so weak being the only one letting it show. But after telling you everything, that weight on his shoulders was gone. And he was fully ready to accept the past as the past.

“This is another new beginning for us,” you softly smiled at him, “We’ll get through this, together, just like before.”

Jake pulled you in and kissed you, savoring your taste and smell as it filled his senses, finally pushing away the horrible past that took over him. He rests his forehead against yours, “I will fight this war, do everything I can to protect you, to protect our future,” his thumbs rubbed against your neck, “My sweet, sweet, Luna Nova.”

“My sweet, sweet, Jake.”

He kissed you again, but chuckled against your lips, “You sure you don’t want to make a half-breed baby?”

You shoved your mate, “Maybe after this war. Maybe.”

Jake tackled you to the bed, kissing down your neck, “But I want to right now.”

You giggled, tilting your head to give him more access to your neck, “You’ll have to wait.”

Jake hummed in a pouty way, digging his fangs into your neck.

This Jake, your Jake, was back. You knew the others could feel it down the bond as well, that their brother was back and happy…and that he was currently digging his fangs into your neck and stripping your clothes from your body as your blood went down his throat.

But that’ll be a conversation with them for another time. Right now only Jake mattered, only the two of you mattered as he pressed you to the sheets, giving every ounce of love to you.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @belowbun @jaeyunq @rikizm

— tags: @jwnghyuns @en-happiness @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @honeybunnee @jaklvbub @nshmrarki @seunghancore

#breakthechain #jake bby #sim jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jaeyun sim #sim jake x reader #reader x sim jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #established relationship #vampire au #yeonzzzn writing

[theeoriginals]

I’d love to see your take on an arranged marriage with klaus (like medieval times or some period like that). maybe he’s marrying her to get something from her/her family but there’s something a little off about the reader (hint: she does what giulia tofana did - google her if you’re not familiar!! her story is so fascinating) and when he pieces it together he’s smitten with her 💗💗

aqua tofana | klaus mikaelson

author's note; this has been in my inbox for over a month because i was so inspired by it that I decided a 14k oneshot was necessary I hope I did it justice

klaus mikaelson x reader (no y/n) use of nickname in place of y/n

warnings; arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, klaus is a little shit but so is reader so it's okay, no Y/N, mentions of domestic abuse but not in regards to reader, mentions of poison, fluff, shy!klaus (he is real to me), these two mfers are in LOVE, mikael (a warning in itself), minor violence and bloodshed but nothing too bad. if I missed anything let me know!! this is heavily inspired by ACOTAR bc I just binged the entire series in less than a week so thank you sarah j. maas for your service

The Mikaelsons were said to be a noble family. One with loyalty and strength. 

They were coming to stay in their small kingdom, in their castle. Three of them. Elijah, Rebekah, and Niklaus. Looking for a safe haven, to avoid growing conflicts in surrounding areas. Looking for someplace to call home for a little while longer– at least, until they could no longer pass as mortals.

Riverend was perfect for them. 

The way the people of Riverend saw it, their problems were their own, and the larger, outlying kingdoms could fight their nonsensical battles without any help from a small, useless kingdom built downstream from them, carved right out of the flowing water that traveled through their town square by the calloused hands of the families that still lived there today.

As far as anyone was concerned, Riverend had no monetary value, no natural resources to capitalize off of, no armies worth rallying, and no animals to trade. The only thing it had was its people, and to most, that meant nothing. It meant they went overlooked, and were never considered in territory battles and similar crises. But to the right person–a dangerous person– such a thing could mean everything. 

That is why she was so wary to accept this supposedly noble family into their walls. She had to be wary, to think of the danger they could bring along with them should they stay. How much danger it could put her kingdom in. 

It’s why she had further qualms about marrying the man the king had been corresponding with all these months. Said qualms, of course, outside of the fact that she had no real desire to marry, let alone to a stranger. All familiarity aside, she had a duty to her people to maintain their livelihoods and not leave them stranded for her own selfish desires. Even if it meant marrying some man. 

With her mother’s voice in her head telling her to keep her chin up and her shoulders back, she was determined to keep her wits about her. She didn’t complain when she was asked to wear one of her nicer gowns to greet the family when they arrived that brisk, cloudy afternoon. She let her ladies dress her in a midnight blue gown that swept along the ground, with sleeves that draped over her hands, leaving no skin visible, spare for her neck and face. 

She was escorted by the king to the throne room, where she stood at his shoulder, resting a hand on the embroidered fabric along the muscle hidden beneath the layers. A silent, supportive daughter. A perfect royal family, to anyone who might linger too long while looking in their direction. 

Two of their sentries escorted their new houseguests into the throne room, and she did nothing but raise a brow at their humble appearance. The girl, Rebekah, was young. She’d seen better days, and she silently wondered where they had traveled from that had them end up before her and her father with dirt scuffs on their cheeks, and scruffy, unkempt facial hair marring their jaws. 

“Welcome, Lords and Lady, to our home,” Her father spoke genially, a content smile on his face as if he was unaware of the judgmental look his daughter was fixing them with. “We’re honored to have you here, honored to build a bridge between our families for years to come.” 

One of the long-haired men spoke, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, making him look like he was some proper gentleman and not a random man who had shown up on her doorstep. 

“The honor is all ours, Your Majesty. The opportunities that your generosity has given my family have not gone unnoticed. We thank you and the Princess for your kindness.” 

The King shifted slightly like he’d forgotten his daughter was there. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and she met his gaze, peering down at him over the bridge of her nose. “Yes, my daughter. Nyxia. She’s a woman of few words, I must warn you all. And when she chooses to speak, it’d do you well to listen closely.” 

All of their eyes shifted to her, but the set of icy blue ones had never left. Not to meet the king’s eyes, or look around at his new home for the foreseeable future of their impending marriage. 

“Your Highness,” Blue eyes, suddenly alight with fire. Flame that burns her from the tips of her toes to the base of her scalp that her very hair grows out of. Flame that ravages civilizations, and wipes out bloodlines. She can feel the darkness in him from two simple words. It’d take a fool to not see it. “I look forward to getting to know you before our prospective arrangement takes place.”

He wasn’t lying, she could tell. But his words seemed to hold as much weight as hers did. A hidden meaning tucked behind every spoken syllable. Dangerous. So dangerous. The King was a fool to not see it, but that was neither here nor there. 

Licking her lips, she chose her first words carefully. It was always important to make a lasting first impression, but with this man– with her future husband, she wanted to be honest from the start. She wanted, for once, to reveal her hand before the game started. Just to see what he’d do. Just to see what he had planned. 

But she didn’t. She knew it would just be chaos. And even though such things were in her blood, she couldn’t risk anything this far into everything.

“Lord Niklaus,” She didn’t move a muscle besides the ones it took to make words form on her tongue. “My kingdom rejoices with your arrival. They will be overjoyed with the announcement of our nuptials.” 

And the man, encased in his flames that felt as if they could burn the whole world down should he please, tilted his head and smirked at her. Like he’d heard every thought she’d had in the moments between words. 

Nothing else was said between them, not verbally, at least, and the king interrupted the rising tension that was so obvious between the Princess and the Mikaelson siblings, oblivious to the people he’d surrounded himself with. 

“Lady Rebekah, my daughter can show you to your rooms in the east wing. You’ll have ladies of your own to help you bathe and dress,” He gestures to the blonde, who looks childishly excited at the thought. “The both of you will be in the west wing, my men can take you to your rooms. We can reconvene tonight at dinner, yes?” 

The three siblings bowed at their waist, easily deferring the power back to the King. 

“In the meantime, feel free to explore. Our home is yours, now. Make yourselves comfortable.” 

She stayed in the throne room long after even her father had left, watching the doors the siblings had been escorted through. She lingered at her place beside the throne, nearly behind it, where her mother once stood behind a man who looked like he belonged on a throne more than any woman would. She laid a hand around the back of the embossed silver and thought to herself that it would look better in gold. 

────── 

Klaus watched his wife-to-be dig into the dinner presented before them moments ago, her fork the first one to move, even before her father’s. She didn’t sit at the head of the table, but just to the right of her father, and Klaus had taken the seat across from her. He did not doubt that she could feel his eyes on her, but she was pointedly ignoring it in favor of talking to his sister at her side. 

Rebekah, ever the people pleaser. Even in their centuries on this earth, Rebekah could never resist the desire to cling to the nearest female in their proximity. He hadn’t said anything to her about it, yet. He figured there was no harm in letting her delude herself into thinking that Princess Nyxia wanted anything to do with any of them. 

Elijah wasn’t even pretending to be friendly like he tended to be in this position. He’d been silent for a majority of the day, perhaps tired from their travels, though Klaus doubted it was anything so simple. If Klaus were to look at himself as a King, it would be Elijah as his second, watching everything and everyone, dutifully reporting back to him about usurpers and battles to come. It would be Elijah ripping hearts out, and Klaus taking responsibility for the blood on his brother’s hands. 

There was a reason it was only the three of them. His other siblings just didn’t understand that you did everything for family. 

He supposes that’s why he’s so curious about the two royals before him. They were the only family they had left, and yet there was something unspoken there, something withheld between them that left a tenuous truce. There was such anger behind Nyxia’s eyes, and Klaus had the urge to push and push at it until it finally shattered. Elijah often compared him to a child for this inane urge, and Klaus couldn’t deny it. 

“This food is lovely, Your Majesty,” 

Rebekah looked at Nyxia’s father with a sweet little smile, and Klaus wondered how she managed to maintain such a degree of humanity inside of her after everything.

“Oh, it’s all my sweet Nyx,” He turns his pleasant, kingly smile to his daughter. Looks like he owes her the world. She doesn’t return an ounce of the fondness, but she still smiles, like she knows it’s expected of her. “She has specific tastes, so I prefer her to pick the menu. Our cooks in the kitchen work to make it all come to life and it never disappoints.” 

It works in the way that it makes Rebekah turn adoring eyes onto Nyxia once again, but it doesn’t do as such for the two brothers. There’s something about this place that drew them to it in the first place and they wanted to figure it out, neither of them did very well when it came to venturing into the unknown, so they devised the plan. It’s set in motion, it’s happening as they sit at this table and eat this food, and yet he still feels wrongfooted. He’s missing something, he’s missing the thing that brought him to this small kingdom in the first place. 

He doesn’t like living in the dark. 

Elijah cuts a thin bite of the lamb chop on the plate in front of him. “Do you cook, then, Princess?”

“If I am feeling particularly inspired, yes,” She grabs her silver chalice, swirling the dark red wine in it before she takes a drink. “I prefer vinification.” 

The King’s face lights up like he’d been waiting for another opportunity to brag on his daughter. “Yes, Nyxia made the wine we’re drinking tonight. She tries to make a personal barrel at least once a year, and it’s always the most unique flavor. She goes out and picks fruits from our trees up near the bluffs, where–”

“I’m sure they aren’t interested to know what fruits our land produces, Father.”

“On the contrary,” Her eyes shot to Elijah at his words. “I think it’d be quite ignorant of us to turn down any knowledge of the land we’re to call… home. It seems to be a very special place.” 

She watches him for a moment, eyes narrowing at his unsuspecting tone. “Yes,” She muses quietly, looking away from Elijah to meet Klaus’s gaze like she can tell Elijah’s speaking on his behalf. “Perhaps I’ll show you what makes it so special.”

None of them acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t so much of an offering of camaraderie, but rather a threat. 

────── 

Months go by. Time passes peacefully, but Klaus is growing restless. 

With the announcement of their joining sent out to the few people they intended to invite outside of their kingdom, they had begun preparing the castle for the celebration and the princess found herself preoccupied with menial tasks, like picking out what flower arrangements to line the aisle with and what color banners should hang from the ceilings above them. 

Throughout it, she’d done her best to avoid the Mikaelsons but maintained a close enough distance so they couldn’t claim she was giving them the cold shoulder. She’d grown quite good at falsifying closeness throughout her years. She was designed to have a connection with her people that displayed generosity but not bias. A relatability, but not a weakness. 

She was sure that Rebekah would call them best friends by now, but she also knew the girl could not even tell a person what the princess’s favorite color was if someone ever bothered to ask her. 

She has always been able to exist in a way that makes her entirely extraordinary, but forgettable the moment she’s out of sight. 

She’s been able to use the wedding as an excuse to avoid isolated interactions with Klaus, but she knew he’d catch her without an excuse one of these days. She would’ve preferred to avoid it for a bit longer, but she wasn’t unprepared when it finally happened.

Standing in the aisle of the throne room where the banners of white and gold were hanging above the place they were to stand in front of her people and all of the guests they’d sent invitations out to and declare an undying bond that didn’t exist, she felt a rage bubble inside of her that she was quick to smother into nothing but cinders and ash when she heard the doors creak open behind her and footsteps slow as he stopped beside her. 

“You’re a hard woman to track down, Princess,” 

“You could have sent for me at any time. It is my duty to serve my subjects,” 

She glances at Klaus out of the corner of her eye and sees an amused look grow on his face. “Is that what I am? One of your subjects?” 

“Until we are bound by law, yes, Lord Mikaelson. You are one of my subjects and I your Princess. Soon enough you’ll be Prince, and you will also owe loyalty to my subjects because this place does not exist without them.” 

“You take such pride in this kingdom, in these lands, yet you did not win it in a battle, have not even fought in one, as far as I’m aware. You have no value to other kingdoms, and yet your father brags of orchards and vineyards with bountiful fruits. He tells tales of heroic civilians, always offering a helping hand to those in need. Sparing what they can, to maintain their peace here. It’s an odd thing, considering I’d never seen or heard of Riverend before that time all those months ago when I first met your father.” 

“And yet, here you stand, within the walls of my kingdom, amongst my people. In my home.” 

There’s no humor in her voice. There isn’t any hatred in it, either, and he can tell she’s got that impenetrable mask on again. Even her momentary anger or irritation was different from this nothingness. 

He can hear her father’s words from that very first day, telling them all that her words are important. He remembers thinking it was such an odd thing to point out at that time. It almost rings like a warning, now, and not a twisted compliment for the woman. 

“It’s curious, is all. I wonder if I’ll understand what inspires such devotion once I am Prince, or if it is a feeling only you experience.” 

She turns, finally, to look at him. “You are interested in learning what makes me love my people and my home?” 

He ducks his head in a nod. “Guilty, I suppose.”

“Then I will show you,” She nods once, firmly. Like she’s just decided it then and there because of his earnest words, and he thinks it’s a ridiculous, rash thing, but when he looks into her eyes there is no hesitation or wariness. “Tonight, we will have dinner and I will answer all of your questions. I will show you why I would spill endless blood for this kingdom, and never ask any of my people to do the same for me in return.” 

He raises his brows, letting a sliver of his suspiciousness show in his icy, blue-gray eyes. “You’re offering such honesty to my family after weeks of pretending like we don’t exist? Forgive me if I’m skeptical of your generosity.” 

“Not your family. You. You and I will have dinner alone, and I will tell you everything you want to know,” She corrects him, earning a more genuine look of shock from him. “You are to be my husband. One day you will be my King, and I your Queen. Is honesty not the place to start?” 

Klaus falls silent, watching her, waiting for a slip-up. For any sign of hesitation or scheming behind her endless eyes. Finding nothing, he bites out a wry laugh and nods in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from her to look around at the decorated throne room. 

The betrotheds stand silent together for a few minutes, and she offers no insight into whatever it is she’s thinking as she stares at the throne front and center in the room. 

“Is my help needed for our wedding?” Klaus says suddenly as if there isn’t a mounting tension building in the room like a shadow of the night. 

“Not unless you are offering,” She says simply. “I’ve told them white and gold, for our colors. My dress is to be fashioned similarly, as are your garments. I’m sure you’ll be summoned for fittings, but our seamstresses have plenty of work to do before then.” 

The man hummed agreeingly. “Then I shall leave you to it. And I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” 

“Before you go, Lord Mikaelson,” 

“I am certain you can call me Niklaus. Just Klaus if you’re feeling particularly agreeable that day, Princess,” 

She raised a brow like one might raise their lips in humor. “Niklaus.” 

He looks at her indulgently. 

“Even after we are married, outside of our duties to this kingdom, I will never ask you for anything,” She says, her words striking something like a warning bell inside him. “But right now, I have a question for you.” 

“Ask me anything, Princess,” 

“Do you know who you are?” 

Klaus’s eyebrows flexed on his forehead. “Pardon?” 

She turns to face him head-on, standing before him like she did that first day they arrived, only this time there was barely a foot of distance between them. He could almost see her pulse move in the long lines of her throat. “I ask you, as your future wife, do you know who you are? Do you feel the shadow that shields your soul? Do you feel the fire that consumes you?” 

She tilts her head at his suspended silence. “You hide from the light that is still inside of you. You hide from someone. But you won’t hide from me. You can’t. It is because of that unfair advantage that I am offering you honesty. Know that I do this for you as an act of trust. Do not underestimate the weight of such a thing, or you will see just what I am willing to do for this place.” 

She side-steps him and walks past him, leaving him in a stunned silence that quickly turns into rage that they both know he can’t take out on anything within the walls of this castle, and the borders of this kingdom. 

She’s established the high ground. And she has made it clear that it is not Klaus standing up there, looking down at her, but rather the other way around. 

She’s offered to even the playing field, though. He’s curious to see just how much honesty she’ll be parting with tonight. He’s curious to see how it will end. 

────── 

The table is set for two. 

It’s different from the dining table they’ve been occupying for the past three weeks. This is a table made for two, and only for two. 

Candlelight casts shadows around the room, and Klaus does a slight double take as he walks towards the table, escorted quietly by one of the sentries from his quarters to this room. He’s loath to admit he was distracted by thinking about all of the possibilities of this dinner to pay attention to the fact that he was being led to the east wing and not the usual central hall where meals were had. 

But it’s too late for him to question it, as the sentry is walking out and a door across the room opens, revealing the princess. 

She’s changed again– always in different gowns throughout the day. This one is similar to the one she was wearing when they first met. A blue so dark it looks black, that holds color like the night sky. Sleeves that drape over her shoulders and cinch down to her wrist, leaving only her hands bare. With the dim lighting of this private dining room, shadows dance around her face, and he thinks to himself that the shadows cling to her. 

She gestures for him to take a seat, already doing so, and she immediately grabs a corked bottle from the side of the table, popping it open and pouring their golden chalices halfway full before she sets it back down. 

Klaus takes the first drink and has to bite back the pleased noise he starts to make, if only out of spite. 

“I’ve been fermenting this wine for three years,” She informs him, seemingly hearing the noise anyway, if the gleam in her eye is anything to go by. “It’s from my private reserves.” 

“Aren’t they all from your private reserves?” 

“No, I give barrels to the tavern in town,” She swirls it around in her cup, quirking a brow at him. 

“Give, or sell?” 

“Aren’t you the one who said I have undying generosity for this kingdom for no good reason?” She takes a small sip of the wine, holding it in her mouth for a moment before she sets it down. “It’s too bitter for my liking.” 

Klaus hums, taking another drink. “Perhaps you’re just your own biggest critic,” 

“Mm, perhaps,” She concedes, fluttering her eyes in a slight roll. It’s as casual as he’s ever seen her, and she’s still sitting stock-straight in her chair, shoulders back and chin high. As royal as ever. “Are you going to start asking your questions?” 

He smirks, tilting his head in a slight nod. “Maybe I was waiting for your permission. I wouldn’t want to be a rude dinner guest, after all. Not after you’ve brought this lovely meal into this secluded space,” 

“It’s mine. I don’t always prefer to eat in the company of others,” She says. “My bedroom is through that door.” 

She points to the door she’d come through upon his arrival, and his eyes follow the curve of her arm through the fabric shifting along it. 

“How lucky I am, then, hm?” 

“Oh, most people would not call it luck, Niklaus. In fact, I think I heard your brother say to your sister once that it feels like you’re all just sheep in a wolf’s den.”

Klaus makes a dry noise of acknowledgment, mentally cursing his brother for saying such things within earshot of anyone, let alone his soon-to-be wife. “My brother’s desire to protect this family often leads him to paranoia, I’m afraid.” 

“I never said he was wrong.” 

Klaus’s hands flex in his lap, out of view of the princess. “Oh, is that so? Then maybe I am ready to start asking questions,”

She beckons him on with a wave of her hand. Neither of them has touched their meals. He doesn’t think they’ve broken eye contact, either. Locked in this stalemate, tension rising and rising and rising. 

“I have traveled far and wide in my days on this planet, and I have come across some very strange places, I must say. But never have I come across a place that simply… doesn’t exist,”

If Klaus knew any better, he’d think she looked excited at the words coming out of his mouth.

“That is not a question, my Lord,” 

He smirks at her correction. “What is it? What is it that hides this place from the map? How do you keep travelers passing through, yet no one has ever had so much as a–a tall tale, or some monster story to tell about this place? You fight in no wars but you have sentries stationed throughout this castle, on guard every night and day. You trade no goods, but these lands are bountiful in fruits and vegetables, crops as big as this castle grow in people’s yards. So, tell me, Princess Nyxia, how do you do it?” 

She shifts in her chair, leaning her arm onto the armrest, and for the first time since he met her all those months ago, she smiles. 

She smiles widely, and it’s not something wicked or cold, but instead, it’s amusement, through and through. Every bit of that coldness stays in her eyes, though. Darkness still clinging to her like a child and its mother.

“There are stories about things– creatures so dangerous that you cannot even utter their name, for fear of inviting them into your home, your mind,” She starts, undoubtedly aware of the anticipation thrumming in his veins. He’s had to be so careful about feeding since they came here, compelling people, and never taking too much, because he can’t risk her catching on. He thinks he feels more human than ever within these walls, and it’s such an odd thing. 

“My real name has not been spoken in decades. Most people in this kingdom, in this castle, do not know me as anything other than Nyxia. It is the name that my mother held when people started to refuse to say her name as well, and in honor of her great life, I now bear it as my own.”

Klaus lets out a slow breath, a feeling like adrenaline coursing through him. “What are you, Nyxia?” 

“I am the shadows that follow you along the walls, I am the very stars in the sky. I am the end to every day, and I will be the end to it all when I am finally called back home. I am the thing you see every time you blink your eyes, Klaus Mikaelson. I am darkness.” 

He shuffles, leaning his elbows onto the table to examine her closely, in a way that he hasn’t had the chance to do since their arrival. “You keep this place hidden so that people don’t find you and hunt you.” 

“Why do you think you and your siblings found this place? Why do you think you could see and remember what so many others could not?” She raised a brow, pulling her cloth napkin from her lap and dropping it atop her untouched plate. “I know what you are, Niklaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid. The divide in you is shadowed in darkness. I am, and have been a part of your very being from the day you took your first breath and were declared a bastard.” 

He flinches minutely, but she sees it anyway. “Why me? Why lure me and my family here? To kill us? I have no doubt you have every means to kill creatures such as ourselves if your claims of power are to be taken as truth.” 

“I have no intention to kill you, Klaus,” She pushes her chair back from the table, standing up. Silently, she gestures for him to do the same. “I have not yet told you why I do what I do here.” 

“You haven’t even told me what you do here, let alone why,” 

She chuckles freely and he ignores the chill that travels down his spine at the sound. It’s like she’s been waiting on him to break this dam between them, and now that her secret is out, she’s alive. 

She’d told him earlier to realize the weight that is behind her trust, her honesty. He will admit to himself that he had underestimated it, even in the wake of her precautions.

“Your family is not expecting you tonight, right?” 

He raises his brows but shakes his head. “I told them I’d be having dinner with you and that I’d be out for the night. Why do you ask?” 

“We’ll be taking a trip. I have things to do,”

It’s all she says before she leads him into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. 

────── 

Draped in cloaks that covered their faces in shadows she had promised him would keep them hidden while they made their way through muddy alleys and thick groves of trees, Klaus couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d gotten himself into. 

He didn’t often admit that he was in over his head– was rarely in such a position at all– but this. This was something he was utterly in the dark about. The irony wasn’t lost on him, either. 

“Where are we going, Princess?” 

“You may call me Nyxia, you know. You did earlier,” 

“I am nothing if not a gentleman, Princess Nyxia,” 

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an unfamiliar degree of humor in the action. He’s still discombobulated at her complete flip of a switch, but he’s trying to familiarize himself with it. He selfishly hopes that she doesn’t slide that cold mask back on when they return to the castle. 

“They’ll be just through here,” Nyxia led them through another tightly packed thicket of trees, and just as Klaus was about to complain, they broke through into a clearing that nearly took his breath away. 

Though they were undoubtedly still surrounded by the forest she’d traipsed them through for the past hour, at least, this ovaloid clearing was shrouded in a different kind of darkness than the night that encased the rest of the area. 

Light up by the stars glimmering just out of reach above their heads, women mingled about, stopping to talk to one another. A few children ran by, laughing as they chased one another barefoot through the trees, disappearing out of sight and earshot as soon as they left the area, only to reappear before him like a bursting bubble. 

Klaus turned slightly to look at Nyxia, watching her pull her cloak down off her head and smile kindly, genuinely, to the people who had stopped and gathered around them. Klaus took the cue and pulled his own hood off, and his presence immediately earned wary looks. 

Glancing at Nyxia, he fought the urge to jump when her hand landed on his arm, her face contorting into an understanding but reassuring look. “No, no, look,” 

She pulled Klaus closer to her, keeping her hand wrapped around his arm as he looked warily at the sea of faces watching him. Feeling entirely caught off guard, he stayed silent, happily letting Nyxia take the reins.

“This is my betrothed,” Her words immediately earn a variety of reactions. From the children, their hesitance turns into immediate adoration. From the older women, teasing laughs are shared between them, and Nyxia bats a hand out to silence them, though it’s not done out of real offense. 

Friends, he realizes. These are her friends. She’s brought him to meet her friends that she has hidden in this patch of woods, further secluding a place that already doesn’t exist outside of its own bubble. 

An unavoidable arrow of fondness shoots down his spine, and he bats it away as quickly as he can. 

“So our lovely princess has finally brought a prince to meet us,” One of the older women grins tauntingly, and Klaus eyes the wrinkles around her mouth that only come from smiling too much, and the strands of gray hair falling out of the braids she’s got piled atop her head. 

“Klaus,” He says, somewhat shocked by the emotion in his voice. “You may call me Klaus.” 

“Klaus, then,” The woman nods, conveying something to Nyxia that is seemingly translated between the two of them, though Klaus couldn’t even begin to guess what went unsaid. 

Nyxia finally removes her hand from his arm to reach into her cloak, pulling three small bottles out and passing them off to the older woman, whose face turns somewhat solemn. 

“I know that one is for Merida,” The woman starts, meeting Nyxia’s gaze from beneath her lashes. “But who are the other two?” 

“Reya and Liesl,” 

The woman curses beneath her breath and apologizes when the children nearby gasp. 

“When am I to bring this to them?”

“Within the week. It has only been getting worse lately,” 

As if she were a soldier being told her life was being offered up on the chopping block, the woman nodded and tucked the vials into the deep pockets of the dress she wore. “I will send word once they are here.” 

“Thank you, Theresé,” She grabs Klaus’s arm gently once more, beginning to steer him towards the path they’d taken, but she stops short, looking over her shoulder with a slight smirk. “You are all invited to the wedding, of course. Next month. I will send someone to escort you to the castle.” 

A bout of excited tittering follows them out, and they walk in silence, heading a bit of the way back towards the castle before she leads them off to the left, walking them across one of the runoff creeks that flow with the river through town.

He remains silent until she leaves his side to push open a gate ahead of them, the metal creaking and groaning beneath her force, but giving way eventually. 

This time, when Klaus steps forward, he instantly knows where he is. “The orchard,” 

“Yes,” Nyxia takes a deep breath in, releasing it quietly. “Come, let’s sit.” 

She leads him to a wooden bench down the main aisle in between the trees full of ripe fruit, all looking ready to be harvested and used. 

“That place,” He starts once they’ve been seated for a moment, Klaus watching Nyxia’s profile as she basks beneath shadows and night of her own making. “What is it?” 

“It has no name,” She informs him, her voice unexpectedly soft.

She’s been so different this entire night, he wonders how long she’s been waiting for someone to just ask her these questions. Every person who’s been close enough to do it has been too scared of what wrath they may face if they did ask her about the oddities of her home, but Klaus did it because he can’t help but push people. 

“It has no name, and no one knows of it besides the ones who live there, and myself. Now, you do, too,” 

“What is the purpose of it? Why is it only women and children?” 

She takes a long moment to think about her words, and he can see the way she struggles to verbalize her thoughts because no one had ever thought to ask her before. “Just because I am darkness does not mean that I can control all that exists in this world. I can’t take away what already exists, no matter how much I wish to. That place is what I call a loophole. I have them hidden all around the world. Because I cannot erase what already exists, I must find a way to work around it. To remove the darkness I wish to see gone without violating the laws of my making.” 

“And what exactly have you been working around?” 

“Humanity,” She says simply. “With every passing decade, they tear themselves apart more and more. My loopholes exist to take people out of that chaos, of the darkness. Sometimes it’s a hungry child or a bastard,” 

Klaus glances away for a moment before forcing his gaze back to hers. 

“Sometimes it is a woman that gets sold to the highest bidder. The woman I spoke to, Theresé, was one of the first women I saved from a nearby village. Her husband was an utter brute and had killed his first wife when she had barely seen sixteen name days. Theresé was strong, but there was only so much she could do before the inevitable. So I stepped in and I proposed a hypothetical situation to her, where all she would have to do is make him dinner and serve him wine, and meet me outside of her home later that night.

“I did not think she would do it, but when the moon was high in the sky, I waited outside of her house and barely breathed until she was standing before me in one piece, with tears in her eyes and bruises on her cheek. So I told her who I was and what I wanted to do, and she said she would help me if I continued to save women who had been in her position. So I have. The girls I mentioned, Reya and Liesl. Young girls, friends since childhood. They were married off to the same man, a prince of some second-rate kingdom a few days north that had already gone through 3 wives. They have just found out they’re both pregnant, and fear raising children in the environment they live in.” 

Realization dawns on him. “You give them poison. The wine you make,” 

She hums in assent and silence falls between them once more, the princess dutifully letting Klaus turn the events of the night over and over in his head, finally slotting pieces together where they’d been misaligned for months. 

“Why?” He breathes out, his tone of disbelief earning her attention once more. “Why did you bring me there when you’ve barely spoken to me all these months? When you have known what I am and who my family is, and you knew I was suspicious from the very start, why have you just now shown me the truth?” 

Sighing, Nyxia looks down at her hands folded neatly in her lap. “I fear that my honesty is about to get me in trouble for the first time tonight.” 

“Just tell me,” He shakes his head pleadingly. “Please.” 

“Death consumes your very soul, Klaus,” Her voice takes on a distant tone, one he recognizes more than any fondness or humor she’s shown throughout the night. It’s the way she’d spoken to him since he first arrived, down to that very morning in the throne room, overlooking preparations for their wedding. “It is a fire that burns you from the inside out. And because of that fire, there is a shadow on you. And in that shadow, I exist. I see parts of you that you likely would not share with me, and for good reason.” 

Klaus can’t help the way he flinches, shifting away from her on the bench. She looks unsurprised at this particular reaction, but her fingers twitch like she’s going to reach out for him again. 

She doesn’t. 

“I have known you much longer than you have known me, and for that, I apologize. When you first arrived, I was still hesitant to believe what I had felt, and I– I am much different in the daylight. I am at my weakest when the sun is out, and that has never changed. But– other things have.” 

���Your father–”

“He is not my father,” She cuts him off, voice reverting to that cold indifference for a split second. “Once upon a time, he was a man. A king. But he was not a kind man, let alone a kind king. So I took the darkness in his mind, and I collapsed it from within. I made him hollow with it, and now he is but a puppet. A face to put on our currency, so that I may do as I please without so much attention. My people remember the cruel man, and they remember what I did for them. That is why I have their respect. Their loyalty. Trust breeds trust.” 

Klaus’s jaw clenches. “And when you decide you’re ready to become Queen one day, and I become a King, will you also make me into a puppet? Will I be nothing but a conduit of political jargon made to distract people from your loopholes?” 

Nyxia’s eyes burn, but they are dark. Almost black. 

“I did not bring you here to make you a puppet, Niklaus,” 

“Then why did you bring me here? Tell me, Nyxia. Tell me the truth.” 

“I brought you here because I want to protect you,” 

Klaus’s lip curls in a snarl and he stands up, cloak billowing around him. He turns at the feeling of a slight breeze and finds himself looking at the castle from a high distance, and he wonders if he’d been in such shock that he hadn’t noticed their uphill hike, or if this was another one of her tricks. 

Clenching his jaw, he turns to look down at her. “I do not need protecting, Princess. I have done nothing but protect myself and my family for hundreds of years.” 

“I know that, Klaus,” She spits out, looking as angry as he feels. Both of them are stubborn to a fatal degree. “But I want you to let me do it anyway!” 

Klaus lets out a harsh breath through his nose, turning to look away from her as his chest heaves with frustrated breaths. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion practically slaps him in the face as it settles over him and he finds his racing thoughts finally slowing down, seeming to process in his mind after the eventful night. 

“I understand that this has all been unexpected,” She starts, voice carefully neutral in the wake of both of their tempers. “And I will not blame you for being upset. But trust me when I say that I have your best interests in heart, for you and your family.” 

“I’m to trust you after you’ve shown me only a fraction of the truth?” 

Her soft look has shuttered away when he looks at her again. “I told you,” She whispers, voice quiet but certainly not weak with how thick it was around the emotion clenching around her windpipe. “That I was putting all of my trust into you the moment I told you what I am. The danger that I have thrust upon you and myself just by sharing all of this with you is endless. I have bared my soul to you in a single night, Klaus Mikaelson, and then you spit in my face by asking me if I am trustworthy.” 

“Nyxia,” 

She stands from the bench abruptly, pulling the hood of her cloak back up over her head. “We should go. I don’t want to run into the guards at the shift change.” 

“Nyxia, just–”

“We’re leaving,” She cuts him off, not looking back to see if he’s following after her as she stalks off towards the gates she’d opened for him, just for him, moments ago. “Either join me, or find your own way back.” 

Klaus pulls his own hood up and is quick to fall into step a few paces behind her because he isn’t nearly stupid enough to think that their easygoing atmosphere from earlier is still lingering. All because he couldn’t stop the traitorous beating of his heart and the way his skin crawled at the thought of entrusting the safety of his family to anyone else. 

She is going to be family soon enough, though. If she’ll still have him, that is. 

────── 

The tension in the castle is thick for a few days before it’s suddenly dampened with something painful. 

Rain begins to pour and does not stop for three days straight. Most foot traffic that is in and out of the castle for wedding planning is put on pause at the King’s order. Not worth risking the safety and integrity of any person or thing for one wedding. 

Klaus doesn’t see or hear from Nyxia for those three days, and on the fourth day of heavy downpours, of him being stuck in the library with his brother or listening to his sister drone on about a particularly handsome guard, he breaks. He walks the path the sentry had taken him down into the East Wing of the castle and knocks on the thick wooden door, tilting his head just to hear the heart beating faintly on the other side of it. It’s the only reason he even knows she’s alive, and he can’t stop the relief that soothes his nerves. 

It doesn’t manage to get rid of the cloud of guilt that’s been hanging above his head since that night in the orchard, nor does it make him want to turn around and leave. 

“Princess?” His voice is low, but he knows she’ll hear it if she’s listening. “I was just…” 

He trails off, unsure of what excuse to offer up for his impromptu visit. A lie, a half-truth. The whole truth. 

It’s the least he could do in return, offer her honesty. Since he threw hers right back in her face four nights ago. 

“May I come in, please?” 

Silence follows his question, but when he pushes on the door slightly, it creaks open, and he steps through as quickly as possible, not willing to take the chance that it was a fluke. He’s greeted with darkness broken up by dim firelight, and his eyes take a moment to adjust, that concern inside of him chipping away at his pride. 

“Princess?” He asks again, voice low in the dim room. His brows twitch on his forehead, pulling together. “Nyxia?” 

There’s a shift of fabric from the four-poster bed a few feet in front of him, and he can see the orange glow in the room the moment she turns to face him. 

Even in the poor lighting, he can see the sunken shadows of her face and the way the stars in her eyes have gone dull. 

“Nyxia?” He nearly gasps her name as he rushes to her bedside, dropping to his knees beside it as he takes in her sickly features. “What’s happened to you?” 

She lets out a shaky breath that sounds like it hurts. “Sometimes… sometimes I let them take too much,” 

Confusion passes over him momentarily before a realization hits him. “The loopholes… this place… it drains you, doesn’t it?” 

She nods where her head is pressed into the pillow. 

He lifts a trembling hand to her cheek, brushing invisible dirt off of her cheek. He can feel the clammy sweat tainting her skin, the fever roaring in her veins. How odd it must be to be an immortal creature taken down by something comparable to a cold. 

“Why?” He shakes his head, genuine disbelief coating the word as he watches his betrothed wheeze out a few more breaths. “Why do you let them do this? Why do you do this?” 

She smiles and there's a tired pull to it, and she leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “People are so scared of me,” Her voice is impossibly soft, so unfamiliar, and yet he feels that ache in his chest, the desire to hear it more. To hear her more. “They are scared of everything. The least I can do is make my darkness feel safer.” 

He thinks it shatters something in him, to hear her grand reasoning behind everything. To hear that underneath that cold exterior, and the soft one, too, the woman before him just wants people to feel safe in her shadows. She wants them to leave behind lives of unhappiness, to not feel fear when the moon rises in the sky and stars hang over their heads. She doesn’t want them to fear the thought of a monster under their bed but rather feel protected by it. By her. 

She wants to do that for him. For his family. And he’d practically laughed in her face. 

A shame buries itself deep in him, and he finds himself lurching forward slightly, face hovering above hers to keep her attention while she loses her lucidity before his eyes. “What can I do? What can I do to make this better?” 

She reaches a hand up from beneath her blankets and rests it atop his. “Stay. Just stay with me, please,” 

He nods and holds back more words he’s simply not ready to say yet. Reluctantly leaves her side for a moment to bring a chair to her bedside, and once again intertwine their hands together. 

He watches her fall asleep and continues watching her well into the night. It doesn’t feel like a chore, or anything of the sort. He thinks he’d be content to spend a few years of his eternity just sitting here with her. 

────── 

It takes another four days for Nyxia to be able to get out of bed without feeling weak. In those days she regains a bit of that life back into her eyes, and Klaus is there to see every speck of it grow. He sees the shadows get darker again, not as faded and murky as they seemed to be when she was in the worst of it. It makes him happy in a way that he wouldn’t have ever expected it to. 

They spend those four days together in a bubble of their own, with small touches shared between each other. Lingering glances and longing looks are shared from across the dining table while they share meals with his family and the king. 

He doesn’t know if all of it means he’s forgiven for his harsh words in the orchard. He doesn’t let himself hope for anything, because he’s not sure if he deserves it after everything. 

It’s a particular train of thought he hasn’t let come to fruition for his own sanity. Instead, he’s relished in the freshly budding relationship between him and his wife-to-be. The partnership that’s being created. The friendship.

He finds himself in the library that remains hidden behind one, nondescript door that opens up to high ceilings, and endless bookshelves. The first time she’d taken him to see it, he’d spent the entire evening looking through the books, getting lost in the history books she had in her collection. 

As the days go by, he finds himself there more and more, and it seems that Nyxia’s in the same boat. 

Hands skimming against the worn spines of the books, Klaus’s mind travels near and far, and he lets his imagination run wild. It’s a rare occurrence, this vulnerability that he’s found within these walls, beneath Nyxia’s care, so he can’t be faulted for being caught off guard when a book slides out from the shelf on the other side and he snaps his gaze up to meet her amused one. 

There’s no doubt she misses the slight intake of breath he does at her sudden presence, but she gives him the grace of not saying anything about it out loud. Her face is framed between the two shelves and she grins widely, unabashedly, in the shadows of the books. “Hiding in the art history books again, Niklaus?” 

He ducks his head, glancing at the lone book he is holding in his hands, a finger shoved between pages to hold his place while he searches through other titles. Lifting his eyes back up to meet hers once more, he shrugs a shoulder, poorly feigning obliviousness. 

“It’s alright, at least I always know where I can find you,” She quickly dismisses his uncharacteristic shyness, and he’s once again grateful for it, even if he’s not sure if she does it for her own sake or his. “I wanted to ask you a question, actually, about the wedding.” 

He raises a brow, not hiding his surprise. She rarely brings the wedding up to him these days, and with the celebration in just five days, the castle staff was bustling about more than ever. Klaus only ever looked at the gold and white decor lining the throne room in passing, usually hurrying through to track Nyxia down somewhere in the castle, or dodging his brother’s increasingly personal questions about the state of his relationship with the Princess.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking about the wedding, despite Nyxia rarely saying anything to him about it. He found himself wondering just how the day would transpire as it drew closer, wondered how all of the fittings he did for his garments a while back would look like in the end, and wondered endlessly about just what Nyxia would be walking down the aisle in. 

“It’s about the guest list,”

Her voice pulls him from the frequent thought and he bites the tip of his tongue in silent reprimand. Clearing his throat quietly, he looked at her. “What of it? I thought invitations were sent out months ago,” 

“They were,” She confirms, nodding once. Her voice takes on a hint of that diplomatic lilt she likes to pull out of thin air with him when she feels she’s approaching a difficult subject. It instantly puts his nerves on edge, but he tries not to get defensive. If there’s anything he’s learned with her, it’s that he’ll do nothing but regret his knee-jerk reaction to bare his teeth and snarl at the first feeling of danger coming his way. He knows just as well that Nyxia would never put him in danger on purpose. 

“I was just wondering if there was anyone you wanted to invite,” She continued, glancing away from him. “I know Rebekah and Elijah will be there, of course, but is there anyone else you want to come?” 

He’s quick to respond, barely even thinking about it. “I’ve become familiar enough with your subjects that they’re plenty for me, I think. Especially the women coming from the loophole. I’m looking forward to seeing them,” 

Her face softens with an endless fondness he’s not quite sure what to do with. Any time she offers it up to him, he does his best to just hold it gently in between them, like it was a cloud threatening to seep through his fingers and dissipate into nothingness. 

“I am as well,” She smiles briefly before her face falls back into a placating look. “But you’re sure you don’t have any friends you might not have thought of? Or any more family? I’m sure you’ve… outlived… most of your ancestors, but perhaps there’s a distant cousin that was never turned? Or your… your parents, perhaps?” 

Klaus instantly realizes the true nature of her question, and once again has to fight off the urge to snap at her and make her go away. It’s an easier path to take than explaining just why his parents won’t be in attendance at their wedding or part of their futures at all, and why he wouldn’t want them to in the first place, but he finds himself wanting to try. It’s the least he could do for her.

“No, my– my parents are no longer– an option,” He says carefully, brows furrowing as he revisits centuries-old aches and stabs of pain laced with a childish hurt. “I wouldn’t want them here even if they were.” 

Her face twists with concern before she disappears from the side of the shelf, and Klaus’s eyes widen momentarily before he hears the click of her shoes growing closer. She rounds the corner of the bookshelf swiftly, coming to stand before him with a practiced look of understanding on her face meant to convey her state of heeding. 

“You know by now that I’m a bastard,” She nods. “Even though my father was already unhappy with how I came about, it worsened when he learned my father was the leader of the werewolf pack in our village. I wasn’t just a bastard, but a monster, then, too. I faced abuse from my father my entire life, and my mother always let it happen, or encouraged it, if only to save herself from facing his wrath for her own mistakes.” 

Silently, she reaches out and grabs the book from his hand, setting it flat on the shelf in favor of grabbing his hands in hers. 

“When my youngest brother Henrik was killed by the pack my true father was a part of, my mother was overcome with the grief of losing a child and that’s when she turned us. When she made the spell to make us into these undying creatures who survive off of blood. She and Mikael killed us all and we were forced to transition when we woke.” 

Squeezing his hands, Nyxia shakes her head. “You don’t have to go on, Klaus.” 

He shakes his head, waving off her apology. “It’s alright. I want you to know the truth,” Her already soft face opens more and she takes another minute step towards him, closing the distance between them a bit more. “With everything heightened after my transition, I was so overcome with my anger that I lost control and I– I killed her. I killed my mother.”

“Nik,” 

“I regretted it as soon as I did it. And I buried her body where no one would find it, and I told my family that she was killed by our father. Because in my head, she was. She let him abuse me, she let him turn even a fraction of that hatred onto Rebekah and Elijah, and the rest of them, and I– I truly hated her for it. What good of a mother was she if she could just watch that happen to her children?” 

He clenches his jaw and tilts his head slightly, biting down the bitterness that still swims in his veins all these years later. “Mikael knew what I did, though. I don’t know how, but he always knew. And I– I don’t know what’s happened to him, I don’t know if he’s dead or alive, like us or something else, but I– I do not want him here. I wouldn’t want him here, no matter the situation. I never want someone like Mikael to find this place, because a single touch from him would destroy it all.” 

Nyxia shakes her head immediately, eyes wide and full of something that transcends simple fondness. “He wouldn’t, Niklaus. I wouldn’t let him ruin it. This is my home– this is our home. I won’t let him ruin it for you.” 

Klaus wished he could believe her. And he knows she knows that. And he knows they both know it’s truly got nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the fact that his father has ruined his life at every turn since the day he was born. It’s just what he does. He could so easily take this beautiful thing Klaus has been given and tarnish it with a single touch. 

“I had to inherit these shadows, you know?” She says suddenly, taking him off guard. “I wasn’t born with them, not really. I was born with power, I was made of this power. But in order to have them at the capacity at which they exist now, I had to wait for my mother to die. She was my best friend. But I think that made it all the worse when I had to watch her wither away through each century, until one day, she became nothing more than the night sky we came from. Afterward, I was so overcome with grief that I didn’t even acknowledge the shadows. I wanted no part of it, not without her,” 

She huffs out a small, wry laugh and shakes her head. “But they are very stubborn. They persisted, and one day, they brought me into the shadows and showed me the light that exists within them. And after that day, I started doing things differently. It’s been a long time since then, but I still remember all of those feelings like it was yesterday. And I know that because you have been given the gift and the curse of eternity just as I have, that you understand it like no one else does. So you must believe me when I say this, husband, but it will not be like this forever. And I am making you a promise now that your– that Mikael will not ever make his mark in my kingdom. You and I will live in peace for the rest of our days, with our people and no one can take that from us. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Niklaus?” 

He nods, clenching his teeth together as he swallows around the concrete lump in his throat. “Of course. Of course I do,” 

“Good,” She nods once. “You can trust me. I swear it on my life.” 

He nods again and she offers him a small smile, like she’s wary to shift the graveness that had settled over them into something else. He jostles their conjoined hands, and her eyebrows tick together, silently coaxing his words out. 

“How did you do it?” He asks quietly. “How did you find the light when you were surrounded by the darkness?” 

Her eyes suddenly burned with ferocity, an ancient thing that had roots buried deep inside of her. A small fraction of her power. “I carved it out of the shadows with my bare hands and I did not stop until my fingers bled. Until my nails were cracked and my body screamed for me to stop. And I would do it again if it meant I kept you and your family safe. Understand that, Klaus. If nothing else, understand that I’ll bleed for you.” 

Klaus isn’t sure what to do in the face of her devotion. He feels as if it should be the other way around– him worshiping her, instead of this blood-promise she’s made to him. He isn’t sure what to do or say, but he is sure of one thing; he loves her. And he would bleed for her just as well. 

────── 

The morning of their wedding, a low hum of activity overtakes the calm of the castle and does not falter, well into the early hours of afternoon. Klaus was summoned from his rooms just minutes after the sun was up and brought to the seamstresses that he’d seen increasingly over the months and put into the intricate suit made specifically for him. 

His trousers were plain, simple, and tucked carefully into shoes that almost felt like armor. His surcoat was donned with intricate, weaving lines of gold that gleamed in the sunlight, woven into the fabric like they were the very veins in his body. Like it was a showcase of the life that flowed through him, scorching like the sun for all eternity. When he was draped with a mantle of white fur and more golden details along the draped fabric, he looked in the lone mirror before him and felt, for the first time, that he was truly a king. And just after that thought, he couldn’t help but wonder what his queen looked like. 

When he is escorted to the throne room, he can hear the dozens of heartbeats waiting on the other side of the doors before him and he only has a moment to breathe before the doors are swung open and the guests are standing, turning to face him. 

His blue eyes immediately shoot to the front of the room, where the king awaits his presence at the end of the aisle, where his brother and sister stand on either side of the large arbor, looking at him with an odd pride gleaming in their eyes. 

Bracing himself, he lifts his chin slightly and walks forward, his hands clasped in front of him as he meets the eyes of strangers, all watching him like they’re waiting for him to show his true colors. When he nears the end of the aisle, he looks over to his left and sees Theresé standing there, with a row of familiar faces lined up beside her, and he can’t stop the small twitch of his lips when she meets his gaze head-on with a smile that radiates pure excitement. 

He tears his gaze away from the women and children of the loophole and meets the king’s eyes, exchanging a nod with the man as he takes his place at the center of the room. He turns his head towards the doors he’d come through moments ago, and finds himself holding his breath as he waits for them to open once more, and reveal his bride. 

He prepares himself for the sight of her, but when the doors swing open, guards standing on either side of her, he thinks himself a fool for ever thinking he’d be prepared for the sight of her dressed in a white gown that trails behind her in a sea of golden embroidery that gleams just as his does. Like the life that burns in him also burns in her, despite the way her shadows carve out the angles of her face, the bridge of her nose. 

He knew her dress would compliment him, of course, but he hadn’t anticipated just how much it would take his breath away, to see himself standing before a kingdom, waiting for her slow, graceful steps to come to a stop as she neared him. 

Her own fur-lined mantle was just as carefully draped over her, and it went down the length of her train, the fabric moving along with her as if it were just water rippling along rocks. Slow, elegant, natural. Like she was born to be this. 

For the first time, her arms are bare before him, and the skin below her jaw is as well. Her unexpected bareness exposes things he hadn’t known were hiding beneath her long sleeves and high collars. The shadows that run in her blood wrap around her arms, weaving like vines up across her chest and down into unknown territory, still hidden from his sight and touch. He swallows roughly at the sight of the image she creates before him, her head tilted back ever so slightly just to maintain his gaze as she steps up before him, her hands immediately reaching to lay in his proffered palms. 

He can’t find his voice in time to tell her that she looks beautiful. To make vows to her before they’ve even started. 

The king clears his throat quietly, raising his hand in a silent gesture that has the guests taking their seats once more. 

“People of Riverend, we gather here to witness the joining of two souls. To celebrate a love that withstands life, death, and everything in between. A love forged in shadows and cradled by the moon, that blossoms beneath the sun. It is my honor to stand before you all and mark the start of our future here in these cherished lands beneath their incoming rule.” 

The king shifts, turning slightly to look at Klaus directly. “Lord Mikaelson, repeat after me: I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours, and vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars,” 

Klaus swallows and wets his lips, meeting Nyxia’s gleaming eyes. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” His voice trembles slightly, and her fingers press into his wrist, squeezing reassuringly. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.” 

Nyxia mirrors his swallow, seemingly biting back her own emotion. “I offer my soul to you in exchange for yours,” Her pulse stutters beneath his fingertips, and his blood burns with it. “And vow to love and cherish you long after we return to the stars.” 

“As witnessed by your people, do you both promise to serve them to the best of your abilities? To bleed with them, or for them, shall it one day be necessary? To feed and clothe them, and wash the dirt off of their feet, should they ever ask you to?” 

They both nod once. “We do,” 

The King mirrors their nod and continues. “May this marriage be protected by the powers that be. May it never bend or break, or waver in even the strongest of storms. May you both know one another’s love like no other. May the darkness protect you as it has protected others since the dawn of time,” 

The king takes in a short breath and shifts, holding his hands up for his palms to face the sunlight gleaming in through the stained glass windows. “By the power entrusted unto me, I bless this marriage for the years to come. I now pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss–” 

“Stop this nonsense!” 

Gasps echo throughout the throne room and Klaus’s blood freezes as his head snaps over, his gaze locking onto his father’s immediately. 

The man at the end of the aisle takes a step forward, a mean smirk on his face. “Is it not utter blasphemy to make a king out of a bastard?” 

Klaus breathes out a breath that shudders in his lungs painfully, and he looks past Nyxia to find Rebekah standing frozen in her place, tears bubbling in her eyes at the sight of Mikael. He doesn’t need to look at Elijah to know that the man is likely boiling with barely stifled rage. 

Mikael takes another step forward and Klaus flinches back instinctively, despite the distance that stretches between them. 

The man laughs at the sight, and Klaus finally looks at Nyxia, only to find her glaring at his father like her very gaze could burn him into ash. 

“You have no business being here, Mikael,” Elijah’s voice bites out the words from behind him and he hears his brother take a step down, quick to be a buffer between him and Klaus. “Leave now, and you will not face any consequences.” 

Mikael laughs again. “And from whom would these consequences be dealt? You? Or perhaps Rebekah?” The girl flinches, tears skittering down her flushed cheeks at his ridicule. “Certainly not Klaus. He’s not capable of it.” 

“It will be me,” Nyxia’s voice rings out, firm and cold in a way that Klaus hasn’t heard it before, not even in their worst moments. “You will not speak of my husband in that manner. I’ll have your head for treason if you’re not careful.” 

“You’d take my head for him?” Mikael’s brows raise like he’s actually surprised at the prospect. “I hate to break it to you, girl, but he is nothing. He comes from no high standing, he has no riches and nothing to give you in exchange for all that you give him. Whatever he has told you in those regards is a filthy lie. That’s all he is– a liar.” 

Hot tears burn at the back of Klaus’s eyes and he struggles to find his voice again. 

Nyxia drops his hands and Klaus fronts at the loss of her touch, only to reach for her as she turns and steps towards Mikael, unwavering beneath his hateful glare. “Don’t,” He gets out, pulling her back by her arm. “Do not go near him.” 

She wrenches her arm from his hold, looking at him apologetically before she hardens her gaze once more and faces his father. “You come to my kingdom and interrupt my wedding to spew nonsense. You have the looks of a crazed man, Mikael. I should have my sentries imprison you until I find it worth my time to sentence you.” 

He grins like her words are a challenge. “I’d like to see you try, Princess,” He spits her title out and before anyone can blink, he holds the tip of a dagger beneath her chin. 

Gasps of fear ring out through the room and Klaus stumbles forward, stopped only by Elijah holding him just out of their father’s reach. “Do not touch her!” He growls out the words, black veins crawling beneath his eyes, earning a mocking chuckle from the man. 

“Don’t tell me you actually love her, Niklaus,” 

Klaus says nothing, which is answer enough, and it earns another round of derisive laughter from the man. 

“What a ridiculous thing, love,” He tsks his tongue, shaking his head as if scolding his bastard son. “Nothing but a weakness to someone like you who is already softened by his childish emotions. It’s nice to know that you’re still such a disappointment, Niklaus.” 

Klaus lunges for the man but is once again stopped by his brother. 

“Klaus,” It’s Nyxia who says his name, which calms the racing of his heart in his ears, and he looks at her desperately. “Do you trust me?” 

His brows furrow deeply, lines twisting onto his pale skin. “What?” 

She gives him another look that conveys an apology he doesn’t need, and he feels his stomach swoop with fear. 

“Nyx,” He breathes out, eyes wide as he starts to shake his head. 

She rolls her eyes away from him like it pains her to do so, and looks to his father, uncaring of the tip of the dagger digging into her chin. “I told you I would bleed for you, Klaus. And I shall.” 

She takes one long step forward and latches her hand around the handle of the dagger and digs her nails into Mikael’s skin, earning a grunt of annoyance from the man. In the blink of an eye, a cloud of black consumes them, and the last thing Nyxia hears is Klaus’s yell for her to stop. 

Her hold on Mikael falters and they fall away from each other, thrown into shadows and thrown apart in the same breath. 

It’s been centuries since she’s been here. Encased in nothingness, something that cannot even be considered night because it is so dark it does nothing but swallow the life that enters it. 

She hears Mikael’s breathing through the darkness and hears him struggle to find footing as she does the same. 

“You,” She speaks out, voice echoing into the void. Swarming around them like a crow’s call. “You have tarnished his soul. You are the darkness that exists inside of him, and I am going to rip every inch of life out of you even if it kills me.” 

“Such meaningful threats,” The man speaks back, voice tinged in that smugness that sets her nerves alight with rage. “To think that you have fallen in love with a man like Niklaus. You could have such potential if you weren’t clinging to frivolous emotions.” 

“You underestimate me, Mikael. You mock me, even now, when you are surrounded by something that does not exist without me and my power. It is your arrogance that will kill you, and I will offer your heart on a platter to my husband as a wedding gift.” 

She lunges for the sound of him in the void, grunting as they blindly swing for each other, slamming fists and swinging daggers over and over with no sign of stopping. 

She doesn’t know how long she was in this place the last time. Doesn’t know how long they’ve been here now. It could be mere seconds, it could be years. Nothing exists in this place, especially not time. 

Blood from a cut that is already healed trails down her cheek, she can feel the wetness as she brushes her fingers along her skin. She can hear Mikael’s ragged breaths, her endless onslaught of pain catching up to him. 

“He’s an abomination,” Mikael spits out. “Not just in name, but as a creature. It is not enough that he has no soul as this undead thing, but he has that mutt inside of him, waiting to be unleashed. He doesn’t deserve to live.” 

“You don’t get to decide that,” She bites back, lips curling in a snarl. “But I do. And he will live with me until the Earth takes its last breath. And you will never take anything from him again, so long as I am at his side. You will never hurt your children again. I am taking back the darkness that is inside of you. I am taking the very air from your lungs,”

She tackles him blindly, knees pinning him down as she presses her hands roughly down onto his chest, her fingertips itching with heat as she does exactly that. “You will know pain like you’ve never known before where you are going. And with everything in me, I swear that I will not let there be a day that goes by that you do not suffer.” 

The shadows that warm her skin crawl as she takes his life little by little, and she can feel his breaths begin to shallow with every word she speaks. 

“Let your last thought on this Earth be the knowledge that I love your son, Mikael. And not even you can take that from him.” 

A scream tears from her throat as she lifts her hands off of his chest and slams them back down, his body disappearing beneath her as if it had never existed. A burst of energy explodes from her and she nearly falls onto her face, catching herself on her hands and knees as it blows around her like a gust of wind. 

She grits her teeth, trying to catch her breath as the void grows smaller around her, trying to swallow her whole as it had Mikael. But she had let it have Mikael. She would not let it have her. Not when she had something to go back to. Someone. 

“No,” She bites out, jaw clenched tight enough that her bones creak. “You will let me go back.” 

She digs her nails into the nothingness beneath her hands, skin scraping off at the fight it puts back. She lifts her hands from the void and brings them back down, clawing at it like a rabid animal. 

“Let me out,” She says. Demands. “Let me out!” 

Her voice echoes on a yell and she feels a scream build deep in her chest as she clenches her hands into fists and brings them down onto the ground, and she can feel it begin to crack beneath her force. 

The ache in her hands grows with each hit but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, not even as the first cracks of light bleed through. 

With just that sliver of light, she can see the broken skin of her hands and it’s such a guttural reminder of her past that she raises her hands once more and brings them down onto the shattering void with a strength she did not know she possessed. 

All at once she is thrown out of the darkness and she flinches at the burst of brightness that encases her so suddenly. The sound of startled gasps and fearful noises makes her stumble and she tries and subsequently fails to get to her feet, her bloodied hands smearing along the pristine white aisle she had walked down. 

Arms encase her and she turns her head to meet Klaus’s gaze as he pulls her into his chest, eyes wide in fear at the sight of her blood, no doubt mixed with some of Mikael’s that likely splattered onto her at some point in their tussle. 

“Where did you go? What did you do?” He breathes out, eyes brimming with tears. “Where is Mikael?” 

She lets out a shuddering noise as she clings to him, staining his surcoat with blood. “I took it back,” She grits her teeth, fire burning in her eyes for a split second before her exhaustion wipes it out. “I took my darkness back from him, and I turned him into nothing.” 

Klaus makes a noise of grief that she knows is not for his father, but for the thought of her doing something he knows weakens her. 

“I’m alright,” She assures him, finally looking past him at her kingdom that watches on warily. “I’m alright, I promise.” 

Klaus holds onto her tighter like he’s scared she’ll disappear again, and she lets him as exhaustion weighs her down. 

She smiles suddenly, breathless and hopeful. “We aren’t finished here,” Her eyes shift to the king, who hurries towards them, kneeling slightly. “We were interrupted.” 

Klaus mirrors her smile, much more reserved even as his fear dissolves. “We were, weren’t we?”

“Finish it,” She looks up at the king from her place in Klaus’s lap in the aisle. “Please, finish it.” 

The king barely takes a moment before he lets his voice carry like he had before, unwavering as if nothing had happened at all. “Without further ado, Lord Mikaelson, you may kiss your bride.” 

Klaus barely lets him finish speaking before he kisses her, stealing the breath from her lungs as she gasps into it. Starlight burns in her and she raises her hand to gently cup his cheek, pulling him into her for one hard press of their lips before she pulls away, letting her hand fall from his cheek to rest against his heart. 

She turns her face into his neck and whispers into his skin, her breath making goosebumps grow in its wake. “My name,” She says. “I want you to have it.” 

He echoes it back to her softly, like he’s cradling it in his hands, and she looks up at him with stars in her eyes. 

The king speaks from above them, an excitement laced in his voice as he lifts his hands above his hand. “It is my honor to introduce to you for the first time, the Prince and Princess of Riverend!” 

Cheers burst around them, and Klaus dips his head down to hide his smile in her hair, and she clings to him just a bit tighter, her eyes fluttering. 

“Let us celebrate!” The king exclaims, another round of cheers echoing after his words. 

She pulls back slightly to look at Klaus, smiling. “I love you, Klaus,” 

He lets out a breath like she’s knocked it out of him. “I love you,” He hesitates before saying her name like he’s worried she’ll take it back from him. “I'll love you until the end of time. Never doubt that." 

"I won't." 

#klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries fanfiction #rebekah mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson angst #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #kol mikaelson

[daintyys]

somethin' stupid

fem!reader x ex!james potter, 2k words, swearing, angst, smut

second chance romance and make up sex!!! no hate towards lily in this AT ALL! i adore her i j really felt like writing james x reader🩷🩷

3 months ago, James Potter had broken up with you. You appreciated him coming clean, you really did, but it still broke you when the words "I think I'm starting to like Lily Evans" left his mouth. He hadn't cheated, or even flirted, so there was no reason for you to hate him, yet you were furious.

You tried to avoid him in the halls at all costs, even if it meant shoving someone out of your way in order to hide yourself from him. He sometimes said hi to you, and you caught him staring at you in class, but you ignored him. You knew you shouldn't hold anything against him, but still you did. You hated him. James Potter was public enemy number 1.

"Y/N! Quit studying and start getting ready, yeah?" Marlene McKinnon shouted at you. She was getting ready with Mary McDonald, and the two of them stood staring at you with crossed arms. Lily was sitting on her bed silently, not feeling particularly welcome. You hadn't spoken to her since you and James broke up, and you felt awful for ditching her. You would make that up to her tonight.

"Alright, alright, Marls. Give me a second." You shut your potions textbook, using your wand as a bookmark for the page you were reading. You stood, giving Lily a weak smile. You were so incredibly guilty.

Once you were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked pretty damn good. You had on a plaid skirt, black cardigan, and a shiny new pair of boots. You applied a layer of red lipstick, and braided your hair as you and your friends left the dormitory.

You walked beside Lily, ready to start your little apology spiel. Things hadn't even ended up working out between her and James, so you should have spoken to her 2 months ago when they decided they weren't right for each other. "Hey, Lily." You mumbled, turning to her. Her head perked up instantly. "Hi Y/N." She replied, a hurt expression on her face. "I've missed you. So much." You whispered, not wanting to get Marlene and Mary involved.

Lily took a moment to respond. When she finally did, she had tears in her eyes. "I missed you too, oh my God. I am so sorry about you and James." She hugged you tightly, and you held her close. "It wasn't your fault, Lily. It's my fault I didn't even try to get an explanation from you." She giggled into your shoulder. "Yeah, that was pretty fucking stupid."

You and Lily were fine now, and that made your night incredible. You stayed by her side all night, laughing and catching up. You and the girls were just leaving Madam Puddifoot's when you heard a loud sound behind you. Turning around, there you saw them: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and, of course, James Potter.

You then noticed a trail of light coming straight for you. "Y/N! Watch out!" James screamed. He was too late.

Bang!

Next thing you knew, you were on the ground, feeling particularly nauseous and cold. You looked around frantically as you saw your friends and the boys run over to you. You almost screamed as James Potter bent down and effortlessly picked you up.

"You won't be able to walk for a little bit, that was a leg-freezing charm." He stammered, a guilty expression on his face. "You're a real goddamn genius, Potter. Were you trying to kill us?" Marlene shouted, just about to knock all 4 of the boys out. "I didn't know it was you guys!" James boomed, holding you slightly closer to him.

You could feel his heart racing as he carried you back up to the castle. He was extremely flustered, his cheeks bright red and breathing heavily. Marlene was still going back and forth with the boys, to your dismay. You weren't surprised by their stupidity, as you had put up with it for almost 5 months when you dated James.

Once inside the castle, you were shivering profusely. "Y/N, I am so bloody sorry." James whispered in your ear, gently rubbing your arm to keep you warm. "I-It's okay, not surprised a-at all." You chattered, avoiding eye contact. He scoffed, grinning down at you. "If you don't mind, I can help you out while this wears off." He almost mouthed to you. You nodded hesitantly, not wanting to admit to yourself you still had feelings for him.

You reassured your friends that you would be just fine before you were carried off to the boy's dorm. Lily gave you a knowing smile as you disappeared up the stairs, and you tried not to laugh.

James laid you gently on his bed. You had missed it there. "Still smells like shit in here." You cringed, pulling his comforter around yourself. "Yea, guess it does." You could tell he was nervous. "What's the real reason you wanted to help me out?" You asked, an annoyed tone in your voice. James sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you briefly before turning away. "I guess I missed you." He muttered, staring down at the floor.

Your heart skipped a beat, and then your throat began to burn. Don't cry, oh fuck, don't cry. And then the tears started to stream down your face. "Oh god, oh no- Y/N, please don't cry." He scooted closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders, which just made you cry harder. "Shhh, I'm so sorry." James comforted.

"I fucking hate you, James!" You wailed, attempting to shove him away from you. He knew better than anyone that what you needed when you were upset was comfort, so he continued holding you. "I know you do, sweetheart, and I deserve that. I hurt you." You sobbed hard, and then finally gave in. He was trying to make it up to you.

You burrowed your face in his chest, taking in his scent. You missed this. You missed his scent, and you missed how safe you felt with him. "I should have gotten you back earlier, Y/N." James cooed, stroking your hair. "Yeah, you should have." You mumbled into his chest. "It broke my heart not being able to talk to you for so long." James confessed. You calmed down, and looked up at him sadly. "I hate seeing you cry, honey. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised.

"These last 3 months have been hell, James." You admitted, still letting him hold you. "Oh I know, they've been awful for me too. I should have never let you go." He said, wiping a tear from your cheek. "I was confused about my feelings for Lily and didn't know what else to do other than let you down easy." You nodded, you truly did undersand, it was just hard to accept you hadn't been the only girl on his mind. "I know, James. I also shouldn't have ignored you."

"The charm isn't going to wear off for a while, so I would maybe suggest a hot shower..." James sighed, running his hands up and down your freezing legs. "Don't try and get in my pants, James." You scowled at him. His mouth formed a wide grin. "You know that's not what I meant!" You couldn't help but giggle at him. "Yeah, I know, you just want to help me." You said as you slowly pulled off your cardigan.

You heard James' breath hitch, and he looked away from you quickly. "I'll help you to the bathroom, but I don't want to invade your privacy." He whispered, face turning beet-red. "It's nothing you haven't already seen, Jamie." You cooed.

He slowly turned back to you as you were unhooking your bra. You knew how nervous James got when you were alone together, so it felt good to get to tempt him again. His tongue flicked out of his mouth and licked his lips, now staring at you shamelessly.

You both missed this feeling, hardly being able to keep your hands off of each other. "C-Can I?" James faltered, eyeing your tits. You nodded, and without another word his mouth was sloppily kissing one of your breasts. You opened your mouth slightly and shut your eyes. This was it. This had to be the best feeling ever.

He nipped at your boob and sucked your nipple, and you felt him smile as you let out a moan. "Shit- this is really great, James, but my legs..." You trailed off. His mouth disconnected from your breath and he looked up at you with a dazed expression. "Shower then?" He suggested. You nodded, and were instantly picked up.

His hands cupped your ass and he kissed your neck desperately. James needed to be as close to you as possible. You were breathing hard, anticipating what was to come.

Once in the bathroom, you were placed temporarily on the ground while James turned on the shower. You finished undressing yourself, and waited for James to do the same. He looked down at you, a smile forming on his lips. "You're so gorgeous, Y/N." He spluttered, eyeing the bulge in his trousers.

You were one step ahead of him, and sat up straighter to unbutton his pants. He gasped quietly as you pulled his pants down, revealing his hard. "Can I, Jamie?" You said, looking up at him enticingly. He could have finished right then and there. "Yes, fuck, yes please." James whimpered.

You pulled his boxers down and immediately began to fist his cock. He held onto the counter, knuckles turning white. "Dammit, Y/N." He hissed through his teeth. "That good, hm?" You mocked, running your thumb over his tip. James breathed in sharply, and quickly took off his shirt. "Need you." He mumbled as he picked you up again, bringing you into the shower with him.

Your body relaxed as the hot water hit you. Your legs were beginning to have feeling in them, but that wouldn't matter in a few minutes. James kissed you hard, cupping your ass once more. He slipped his tongue into your mouth desperately, and you moaned in approval.

"Merlin, you're so great." He panted as he took himself into his hand. "Why do that when I'm right here, Jamie?" You asked innocently. His cock shuddered as you spoke. "You're right, love." He lined himself up at your entrance, pressing your body against the wall of the shower. "You ready?" James asked, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yes, I am." And with that he was gently pushing into you, coaxing moans from your throat.

"So good, oh shit." He whined, tickling your neck with his hot breath. He began to buck against your hips, slowly and gently. You unravled as he thrusted inside you, and clawed at his back. "Oh God, baby." You squeaked, moans falling out of your mouth.

James fucked you harder, sucking on your neck with skill comparable to a vampire. "Doing so good, love." James breathed as he noticed your legs begin to shake. "Got feeling back in your legs, hm?" He laughed. You found it so attractive how he could still joke like that while fucking you.

James started to get sloppy, his thrusts becoming offbeat and lazy. Your legs began to clench around his hips, and the walls of your pussy tightened around his cock. "Shit- gonna cum-" James pulled out of you, cumming on your stomach. You released as well, letting out a shrill moan.

You leaned your forehead against James' again, and smiled. He looked into your eyes, pupils wide and longing. "You're amazing, Y/N." He whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, and held his face in your hands. "I really missed you." You proclaimed, rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs. James nodded and set you on your feet lightly. "I'm sure I missed you more."

He cleaned his mess off of you, kissing your stomach as he did so. "Pretty girl," He cooed as he began to wash your hair. "Can we try again? At us?" You spun to face him quickly, a grin across your face. "You think I would let you shag me if I didn't still want to be in a relationship with you?" You said laughing. James went red, embarrassed. "Well, I dunno, you can be confusing." He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, hugging you to his body, not wanting to ever let go.

#james potter #marauders #hp #james potter x reader #daintyys #angst #harry potter #james potter x you #james potter x insert #marauders era #marauders era fanfiction #marauder x reader #everyone agrees james is a tit guy #i love james hes so goofy

[feralforfrank]

hiii bestie i hope you’re doing well 🌷 can i request a fluffy frank piece that includes “i can’t sleep without you” <3 the quote doesn’t have to be exactly that ofc you can change it however you see fit :) please feel free to disregard this if it doesn’t inspire you!! 💛💐🌟🌷

can't sleep without you.

FRANK CASTLE X FEM!READER

cw fluffy drabble. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

a/n THIS IS BAD. OH MY GOD. also this request is so old, IM SORRY IM SO BAD AT DELIVERING.

masterlist | taglist

The big window to the right of the bed shook as if someone was trying to open it. You rolled your eyes and huffed in annoyance. After tossing and turning for the whole night in worry, you had just settled to your left side. With a grunt, the window opened, and you knew who it was exactly.

You sat up, waiting for him to drag himself inside and shut the window. You pulled your knees to your chest and glared daggers at your boyfriend—albeit sleepily. He hadn't noticed you, for darkness consumed the room, and his large form covered the light the moon shone towards the bed.

"Look, what the fucking cat dragged in," your tone was as sarcastic as it could get.

Frank jumped and jerked his body to face yours. He breathed in relief when he saw your silhouette under the covers, but his frown soon returned, as did the pain on his side. He hissed, and your irritated expression fell, morphing into one of worry and fear. 

"What?" Your voice shook. "What is it?"

He dropped his bag by the window and walked by the bed, heading to the bathroom—all while holding his side, which worried you more. You threw the covers off, running after him.

"Frank!" 

He waved his hand and tried to shoo you and shut the door so you wouldn't see how bad he looked, but because his limbs were heavy and his moves slow, you managed to slip inside with him. 

"It's okay, baby. You can go back to bed. I'll join you after I take a shower." Frank's voice was deep by nature, but this tone was underlined with pain.

You shake your head and move to get the small first aid kit you keep for situations like this one. Frank leans on the sink, takes his shirt off, lips pursed, and stares at you. He studies you carefully, from head to toe, ensuring you're okay. Is that his shirt?

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, but you don't answer. 

You're worried, yes, but you're also angry at the man for not contacting you and having you worry so much. 

"Baby...talk to me, please," he speaks so softly, and how do you not break at that moment?

You press your fingers to the massive bruise forming on the side he was holding, biting the inside of your cheek. He hisses, and a small smirk slips on your lips. Serves him right.

"Oh, you find my pain funny?" Frank tries again, but you just look up at him sharply.

His head tilts to the side. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

You sigh at the honest confusion in his tone. You can't be mad at this buffoon—as much as you want to.

You shrug, applying cream to the scratches on his shoulder now. "Couldn't sleep without you," you say quietly.

"What's that, honey?" You know damn well he heard you.

"Don't push your luck." 

He hisses when you slap the bandaid on his shoulder blade harder than needed. He manages to chuckle and moves his hand to pull you closer once you try to move away.

"What?" Your angry facade is slipping more and more by the moment, as sleep tries to evade all of your senses.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, sweet girl." Frank smiles down at you, and you blink, gaze softening completely.

"Apology accepted. Now, go shower. You smell like gunpowder and fish."

[ taglist @scoliobean @fanboyluvr @spookys-girl @j-deimos @torresbarnes @this-is-a-bad-idea @mylifeispainandiloveit @mvnsons-slvt @alexxavicry @oksloan3 @luluwinchester @xoxabs88xox ]

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader #marvel #mcu #nmcu fanfic #slight angst #frank's asks #frank writes

[hjparisian]

christmas kiss- harry j potter x reader

p: harry j potter x fem!reader w: fluff, not proofread summary: spending christmas with harry and the gang at hogwarts a/n: lil thing i whipped up, sorry its not the best. happy holidays everyone !

Christmas time at Hogwarts was one of the most gorgeous times of the year. The halls were decorated in holiday glee, Christmas trees lined the Great Hall thanks to Hagrid and the house elves. A white blanket of snow covered the grounds of the school, adding to the winter spirit.

Few students littered the halls of Hogwarts, most returning to homes to celebrate this wonderful holiday with family, but that didn't ruin the Christmas cheer.

(Y/N) (L/N) sat alone in her dorm, doing some very last minute gift wrapping. Her dormmates went home and her parents had something come up last minute which meant she would have to stay at the castle.

She didn't mind though. Especially when Harry was staying along with Hermione and the Weasleys. It was a bit exciting to be able to spend the holiday break with her friends.

(Y/N) was wrapping the last gift, which was a scarf and a broom kit for Harry. The boy had been complaining about the state of his firebolt, so (Y/N) had bought the kit to help him fix up his broom (as well as to stop the complaining). The scarf was something she knitted herself, noticing Harry's slight shiver in the colder months as he lost his Gryffindor scarf.

Harry had always been a wonderful friend to her since they started bonding in their second year. But (Y/N) would be lying if she said she just saw him as a friend. His boyish charm didn't fail to captivate her and his loyalty and kindness was something she had always admired.

Once she finished wrapping the last gift, (Y/N) gathered the rest of the gifts to bring to the Gryffindor common room. After speaking the current password to the portrait of the Fat Lady, (Y/N) spotted the trio.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" (Y/N) announced to her friends.

Hermione was the first to greet her, taking the gifts from her arms before wrapping her arms around her in a hug.

"Merry Christmas (Y/N)!"

Ron came up and greeted her in a hug as well. Harry was last to greet her, but was the best. His hugs felt like home.

"Where's Fred, George, and Ginny?" (Y/N) inquired, noticing the absence of three red heads.

"They're all outside in the snow," Ron told her. "We told them we'd meet up with them in a bit."

(Y/N) nodded. "Well, I have your guys' gifts if you'd like to open it," she said as she began handing them their respective gifts.

Ron did not hesitate to rip the wrapping paper off his, revealing sweets from Honey Dukes, a winter hat, and a poster of his favorite Chudley Cannons Players.

"This is wicked, (Y/N)!"

Hermione unwrapped her presents with care. She received a planning journal and a book of wizarding history.

"Oh, (Y/N). I love it!"

(Y/N) knew Ron and Hermione would enjoy their gifts, but she had a bit more worry on what Harry would think of his. Maybe Harry expected something more. What if he hated his gift?

Finally, Harry unwrapped his present. The corners of his lips turn upward upon seeing what he got. The sight began to put (Y/N) at ease, but her worries still consumed the back of her mind.

Harry grabbed the scarf, feeling the texture between his fingers.

"This is lovely, (Y/N). Did you make this scarf?"

The girl smiled, glad Harry enjoyed his gifts. "I did. Took a while to get it to look perfect."

"Well it look stunning. Thank you (Y/N)," Harry said to her, wrapping her in another hug.

Ron coughed, causing them to break apart. A sly smile appeared on his face.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I think my brothers and sister are waiting for us."

"Wait, but (Y/N) hasn't opened any of our gifts," Hermione exclaimed. "Oh, but I left yours in my room."

"It's fine Hermione. I can open it later." (Y/N) reassured her. "Besides. I'm ready to go out in the snow."

The four of them went to meet the twin and Ginny out in the castle grounds, where they found them making a snowman.

"Finally," Fred said. "We've been waiting ages for you lot."

"Thought we would have to drag you here ourselves," said George.

"We didn't take that long," Ron huffed at them. "Besides you guys w-"

A snowball hit Ron in the face, stopping his sentence. He wiped the snow off his face, revealing his now slightly red face.

"Oi! What gives?" He said before another snowball hit his shoulder.

"How about less talking," George began.

"And more snowball fighting," Fred said before he and George ran from Ron.

Ron groaned. "Oh alright. Come on guys."

Hermione shook her head. "You guys can go ahead. I'll help Ginny with her snowman."

"Suit yourself," said Ron. "Let's go Harry, (Y/N)."

Ron, Harry and (Y/N) joined Fred and George on their snowball fight. The twins mainly threw at Ron since they thought it was funny, but didn't fail to make an aim at each other or (Y/N) and Harry.

(Y/N) had caught up to Harry, who stood back watching as Fred and George used their wands to cast a pile of snow onto Ron, who began to spit curses at them while digging his way out to chase after them.

"So how has your break been," Harry asked the girl.

"It's been good," she told him. "It's a bit sad I can't celebrate Christmas with my parents, but at least I'm celebrating with you."

Harry flushed a bit. "I'm glad to be celebrating with you too."

"So," (Y/N) began. "Do you really like the scarf?"

Harry nodded. "I love it. I can't believe you made it for me."

"I'd do anything for you, Harry," She said truthfully.

"Anything?"

(Y/N) nodded, feeling her face flush. "Of course. You mean the world to me, you always help me with anything so why wouldn't I do the same?"

"Then you wouldn't mind giving me a kiss?"

(Y/N) was taken back by Harry's words.

"A kiss?"

Harry nodded his head, suddenly feeling shy despite his bold words.

"A kiss. But only if you want to," he quickly said. "It's fine if you don't, we can just forget I even asked. Honestly it's probably silly for me to-"

Harry's tangent was cut off by a pair of soft lips on his. He was a bit shocked by it, not expecting it. He gave in, kissing the girl back.

Unfortunate for him, (Y/N) was the first to pull back, the warmth of her lips leaving his. The two stood in brief silence, staring into each other bright eyes.

"That was."

"Nice," (Y/N) said. "Really nice."

"Yeah, really nice," Harry agreed.

"So, does this mean you like me?" (Y/N) asked. Her heartbeat was racing and it felt like the snowflakes around them were floating in her stomach. This was either going to go good or bad.

"Depends. Do you like me?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) responded. "I do."

"I like you too, (Y/N). Like you for a while actually," the boy admitted.

"Me too." The girl felt herself smiling.

Clapping sounds distracted the two as they turned to see the twins, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, all with grins on their faces.

"Finally," Ron said to them. "I thought you guys were never going to tell each other."

"Thought we were going to have to do something about it, you know maybe a love potion." said Fred.

"Fred!" Hermione scolded him.

(Y/N) laughed a little. "Well I think I'm ready to head back in. Hot chocolate anyone?"

Everyone agreed and began to head back inside the castle. Harry and (Y/N) were at the ending trailing behind everyone, enjoying each others presence. Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Christmas, (Y/N)."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #hjp #hjp x reader #hp fanfic #hp imagine #harry

[naturesapphic]

can you write something about alcina finding out her s/o (reader) is super ticklish

Tickle spot

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff :)

Sunlight was peeking through the curtains of the castle of lady dimitrescu and birds were chirping to wake anyone and anything. You stirred slightly in your sleep at the bright light in your eyes and you slowly opened them to reveal that it was morning and it was time to get up. You pouted and turned over to your girlfriend Alcina dimitrescu who was holding you in her arms. She was still asleep and you admired how peaceful and calm she looks during this moment. You love things like this where you get to wake up first and admire your beautiful girlfriend in a peaceful state where she isn’t stressed about her wine business or about Miranda and her siblings.

“Darling, you’re staring.” Alcina said with a deep voice as she started to wake up. “I’m not staring. I’m simply just admiring a beautiful masterpiece that is staring at me right now.” You stated cheekily and she chuckled at your comment. “Mhm okay…whatever you say dear.” She replied gently and pulled you close to her chest as you let out a yelp at her hands on you. “What’s the matter dear? Did I hurt you?!” She exclaimed as she pulled her hands away and started inspecting you. You giggled “no baby I’m not hurt. You just tickled me is all.” You reassured her and she let out a sigh of relief but not soon after, a big smirk graced her lips and she put her hands on you again.

You smiled up at her, not knowing her evil plans, and didn’t move away from her arms. Alcina put her hands back to the spot that made you squirm and started moving her fingers. “AH! Alcina!” You laughed out and squirmed in her grip as she starts to tickle you. “I have found thy tickle spot!” She jokingly said and that comment made you laugh even more. “A-alci! I can’t breath!” You kept giggling but that didn’t stop her from tickling the fuck out of you. “Who loves you?” She said as her fingers slowed down and gave you a breath. “Hmmmm.” You smirked. “Miranda?” You teasingly said and she gave you a growl and started tickling you more. “Ah! I’m j-joking! You! You! You love me!” You laughed out and squirmed again in her arms. “That’s right. I love you. Good girl.” She stated and pulled her hands away from your sides.

You laid there on the bed breathless and with your girlfriend looking down at you with a love struck grin on her face. “Well…that was…enjoyable.” She confessed and you gave her a look. “Yeah fun for you!” You pouted up at her and she cooed at you. “Awww I’m sorry my darling. I’ll leave you alone for a while. At least until I tell the girls where your tickle spot is..” she grinned and your eyes widened. “Hell no! If you do that no sex for three months!” You threatened and alcina gasped out loud and placed her hand over her heart, in offense, playfully. “No sex for three months? That’s preposterous!” She replied with a fake look of hurt in her eyes. You rolled your eyes and pouted more. “Only if you tell the girls about it. They will torture me for days!” You explained to her and she nodded her head in agreement.

“That’s true. Fine…I won’t tell them.” She finally agreed and you smiled big up at her. “Thanks alci.” You said as you leaned up and gave her a big kiss on her cheek and she gave you a look. “Ah ah ah!” She said and guided your lips to her plump ones and gave you a big kiss on your lips. Now you were a blushing mess and completely melted in her arms. She gently poked your side which made you pull away and yelp. “Hey!” You pouted and she giggled at you. “It’s time to get up and dressed not sweetheart. We can finish that later.” Alcina stated with a look of lust deep in her eyes and you blushed even more as you got up out of the bed to get dressed with your girlfriend following close behind you.

A/n: I hope the anon who requested this enjoys it and I hope everyone else does too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

#lady alcina x reader #resident evil alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu imagine #alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina demitriscu #re8 alcina #lady alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina x y/n #lady dimitrescu x you #lady dimitrescu x oc #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 lady dimitrescu #tall vampire lady #lady dimitrescu x fem!reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu re8 #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x maiden #resident evil village #resident evil x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfic #resident evil

[spcewild]

My Missing Piece

Pairing: Frank Castle x (gn!) Reader

Warnings: angst -> fluff, topics of death, violence, corny fluff, pet names, profanities, etc.

Summary: After Frank Castle's supposed 'death' , you were heartbroken. But what happens if the dead man of your heart shows up at your doorstep?

Song: j's lullaby - Delaney Bailey

Word count: 952 words 5,147 characters

You laid on your side, watching the TV screen as your tears glossed over your lashes, making your vision blurry. You brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle a small cry that left your lips. Ever since that day, the one where you lost the man that grasped at your heart and held it in a harsh grip and never let go - you had been lost. Heartbroken. It never felt the same. You hoped that one day, you would wake up and find him in bed next to you, but you knew that would never happen.

...

Meanwhile, Frank did everything he could to hold himself back from seeing you. He was a new man now, he had a new life. He had to move on. But he couldn't. He knew as much. It didn't take the man much to give in and try to see you, the first thing he could. So it was decided. He would see you once more, and then that's that. That would be it. But once he was in front of you, suddenly all those feelings came rushing back, that dreading and desperate feeling to reach out and hold you in his arms. To hold you tight and protect you from everything else in this miserable shitty world.

...

Your hand gripped the handle of your front door, a steady knock being the only thing that brought you over here. Your fingers collected together to twist at the knob, swinging the wooden door open and immediately dropping your hand to your side, your eyes widening. Whether it was in horror, disbelief, or defiance, you were unsure. Maybe all. Frank Castle. The man said to be dead, the man that your heart longed for, was on your doorstep. A hood over his head, with his hands in the hoodie pockets. As you opened the door, his head lifted up, his eyes locking with yours as if you two had first seen each other for the first time again. Everything had slowed down in your head, and in reality for you. You were brought back by Frank clearing his throat.

"Hey."

That simple word was what made everything process and click in your head, tears immediately fogging up in your eyes, your voice slightly shaky as you spoke,

"Frank?"

He stepped further inside, allowing him to do so as you closed the door, leaning your back against it as you stared up at the man in sheer disbelief, tears still fighting at your bottom lashes.

"Yeah... it's - it's me."

Hearing his voice again made a rush of emotions fly through you, pain, relief, desperation. You threw your arms around him immediately, your head getting pushed into the fabric of his hoodie, tears starting at a more rapid pace now, pouring from your eyes, wetting the grey fabric your head was buried in.

Frank welcomed all of it, his hands slowly holding around your waist and back, pulling you closer, the feeling of your arms around his neck being exactly what he longed for, his face now taking its turn to bury into your neck. His hand occasionally came up and combed through your hair, his head hesitantly pulling away before pressing a ever so gentle kiss to your forehead before retreating back to your neck. Meanwhile, your arms clung around his shoulders tightly, afraid he would disappear if you let go for even a second, your fingers digging into the hood that now laid on the back of his neck.

"I thought you were dead.."

Your voice whispered from behind his ear, so soft it almost passed right by him. He shifted slightly but didn't let go of you. And you didn't let go of him.

"I know."

He spoke simply, in his gruff and low voice, muffled slightly by your neck, of which his face was buried in.

"I know, sweetheart."

His spoke once more, now more gentle, his brows furrowing slightly as his eyes closed. Your sobs only slowed down half an hour after, you had now shifted to your couch, where Frank simply held you in his arms, your arms wrapped around his torso as the side of your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was an ambiance you could listen to all day.

"Where have you been, Frank?"

Your voice finally spoke, so quiet and muffled by his hoodie that you laid your head on. He smelled like rum and cheap cologne. And you loved it - missed it even. You waited for a minute, long silence being met with your question before you heard a sigh heave from his chest.

"Hiding. Starting a new life."

"Without me?"

He went silent. You could hear his heart stutter, and a small breath of air escaped his lips. You knew he didn't mean to do so. You weren't that blind. But being in his life put you at risk. You knew that too, but you didn't care. You were brought back to reality when hearing his voice start, brass at first, then turning soft.

"No, not without you. Even if I tried, I couldn't live without you, darlin' "

Your lips curled into a smile when hearing this, feeling Frank's hand rub up and down your back, his fingers gentle on your back. His voice usually sounding like gravel to others, sounded like sweet honey to you. Right then and there, at that moment. You knew this man was meant for you, and you were meant for him. Even if it meant facing over millions of fucking cops, getting shot over and over, getting beat, anything. You would do it, and all over again just to be with him. Just to have him hold you like this forever.

And something told you he would do the same just for you.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'm super proud of this piece, and I hope you all enjoy it! I updated my masterlist just a little and will now be doing The Punisher requests!

Happy Valentines Day! <3

REQUESTS: OPEN

#fanfic #headcanon #oneshot #writers on tumblr #x reader #spotify #the punisher x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle #some fluff #fluff #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #angst

[sageispunk]

Kinktober 2023

inspired from @flightlessangelwings promptlist <333

banner by @the-purity-pen !!!

this is my first kinktober so i hope it goes as planned, each fic will have it's own individual warnings so be sure to read through those (and my blog guidelines) before proceeding!! if you enjoy any of these, please like and reblog!!! my masterlist is here :3 (**- missed but will come back to)

DAY 1: love bites + overstim + impact play 

DAY 2: bath/shower

DAY 3: exhibitionism (joel miller x reader)

DAY 4: sex pollen + thigh riding + forced orgasm (max phillips x reader)

DAY 5: table sex + sensory deprivation + threesome (steve rodgers/bucky barnes x reader)

DAY 6: sexting/phone sex (matt murdock x reader)

DAY 7: slow and soft + spanking (javier peña x reader) **

DAY 8: temp play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 9: pegging (frankie morales x reader)

DAY 10: stripping + anal + double penetration (frankie morales/santi garcia x reader) **

DAY 11: seduction + blindfold (tommy miller x reader) **

DAY 12: gun play (joel miller x reader)

DAY 13: body worship + being recorded (frank castle x reader) **

DAY 14: tit/nipple play (benny miller x reader)

Week Two -- updated the list (10/14) to make it a lil easier for me

DAY 15: against wall + size kink + free use (richie j x reader)

DAY 17: praise kink + rimming (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 18: masturbation + squirting (joel miller x reader)

DAY 19: voyeurism + handjob + somno (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 21: hate sex + piercings (bucky barnes x reader)

Week Three

DAY 23: dirty talk + begging (javi pena x reader)

DAY 24: lingerie + edging (dieter bravo x reader)

DAY 25: mirror sex + breeding (sam wilson x reader)

DAY 26: face sitting + deepthroating + choking (richie j x reader)

DAY 28: intercrural sex + blowjobs (tommy miller x reader)

Week Four

DAY 29: fingering + gagging + creampie (frank castle x reader)

DAY 30: cunnilingus + breathplay (santiago garcia x reader)

DAY 31: FREE SPACE (will be updated hehe 😉)

#kinktober #fawktober2023 #joel miller x reader #max phillips x reader #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #matt murdock x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #ari levinson x reader #frankie morales x reader #santi garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #tommy miller x reader #frank castle x reader #benny miller x reader #richie jerimovich x reader #dieter bravo x reader #sam wilson x reader #smut

[sebastianswallows]

It's not like any other love | S.S. | Part 3

— PAIRING: dark!Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian teaches reader Imperio in a more unconventional way, and satisfies some of his own needs at the same time (kisses, he just gives her lots of kisses).

— WARNINGS: needy and touch-starved Sebastian, non-con kisses, and generally an indecent use of Imperio.

— WORDCOUNT: 3k

— A/N: It’s been a long time since I updated this fic on tumblr, I’m sorry my dears 😭 These last ones should come in quick succession, so, enjoy!

They were alone in the Undercfort again, where candles flickered around them, and the air was cold and stale. But it was quiet, even in the middle of the day with the whole castle bustling around them. They had about an hour until everyone was done with lunch and they had to go to their next classes, but neither she nor Sebastian could keep from experimenting with this new forbidden magic.

Sebastian first taught her the motion of the spell, coming up behind her to correct it a few times — completely unnecessarily, but he pretended to be a perfectionist about it when it came to her. After all, what other excuses did he have to hold her hand, and feel her against his chest, and nuzzle his cheek against her hair? He thought she didn’t notice, but it was hard to tell whether she was smiling at his veiled attempts at closeness or just focusing on perfecting the cast.

“And the incantation is Imperio,” he whispered in her ear.

“Imperio,” she recited.

“Do you think you can do it?” asked Sebastian as he stepped in front of her.

“I… I guess I could.”

“It’s not the sort of spell you can practice with on a dummy. You need a living target. And as with the curse before, you have to mean it.”

“I understand,” she nodded, but he could hear a tremble in her voice.

He wondered who she ever would want to control, then he thought how lucky her victim would be — to be under the power of her spell, to service her, to be the only creature with whom she shared that side of her, who knew her deepest desires, all those the shameful and illicit things she would only ask for under the compromising and desperate secrecy of an Imperious curse... What would she ask for, he wondered. He’d only ever thought of using it against enemies and turning them against each other, but Sebastian would kill her enemies for her for nothing. So what would she ask for from a friend?

“Do you think you can cast it on me?” said Sebastian without giving it another thought. He was excited at the possibilities the spell now opened up between them — with her shy and reluctant and him desperately in love.

“What!?”

“You can lift the spell at any time… It would be safe,” he said.

She looked doubtfully at him and, although her lips were parted, she said nothing. He hadn’t given it a thought before today, but the sudden idea of her using it on him, of being under the leash of her control, of getting to know her in this way that nobody else could — even for an instant, even without remembering it afterwards although he would definitely try — was far too tempting to let pass.

Would she simply test the limits of the curse? Ask him to move around, to tell her things, to submit completely? Would she ask for secrets she was curious about but didn’t dare admit to? Would she ask him to kiss her? Would she ask him to kneel? Would she…

“Would you cast it on me?” he asked now in earnest, grinning ear to ear. “Come on, I want to see you do it.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, lifting her wand and practising the motion a few times before saying, with her eyes fixed on him, “Imperio!”

Strange, thought Sebastian. He didn’t feel any different.

“Did it work?” she asked, staring at him as he stared back.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Tell me to do something.”

“J-jump?” He stayed firmly on the ground. “Damn,” she muttered, looking down at her wand as if it could be broken.

“Try again,” he said.

But the best she could muster from her wand were muted sparkles, and saying the spell louder didn’t work.

“Do you really mean it, though?” sighed Sebastian, arms crossed over his chest.

Beyond being disappointed that this wasn’t going as planned, he was disappointed in himself. Was he such an unappealing subject for her? Sebastian had never wanted to be cursed more, but if he had any doubts before, he laid them to rest: she didn’t want him.

“I guess…”

“You guess?” he arched a brow.

“Well, you try it, then!”

Before she even finished saying it, he pulled the wand out of his robe’s pocket, aimed it at her, and, “Imperio!”

The change was instantaneous. Sebastian gasped at just how quick it was, how dangerously easy, how much the same and yet completely different the girl seemed to be in the grip of one blue wisp of light. She stared at him out of milky unfocused eyes, her form relaxed and straightened, and the tense frown of her mouth turned into an easy smile. She blinked lazily at him as if time had no meaning, and she lived only for his words.

Sebastian closed his gaping mouth and, after clearing his throat to make his voice more steady, spoke. “How do you feel?”

“Happy,” she said with the echo of a voice, sounding like her yet not like anything he’d ever heard from her. There was no real feeling behind her words.

Sebastian took a small step forward. “Are you upset with me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you trust me?”

“No.”

He stopped.

“What?” he muttered. “Why not?”

“You strike me as a bit impulsive,” she answered with a smile.

Sebastian straightened his back, offended, but could think of nothing to contradict her. “And do you dislike that?”

“Sometimes,” she said.

“When?”

“When it doesn’t serve me.”

“Greedy little witch,” he grinned. “What else do you dislike about me?” he continued, stepping closer as she spoke.

“You insult me sometimes and hurt my feelings. You say things that you know hurt me to try and change the way I think. You don’t trust me. You are sometimes dismissive of Ominis and I worry it will —”

“Alright, that’s enough, thank you,” he said, raising his hands. He sighed and paced in front of her, more worried than upset. “So why do you never tell me?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer. “I could try to be different for you. To be nicer, perhaps, or more… gentle, more like Ominis.” And as soon as he said it he regretted it and tensed, unbidden images coming to his mind of Ominis being gentle with her in ways he shouldn’t be, of him touching and caressing and kissing her where he had no right to. Her reply startled him out of his reverie.

“Because I want you to like me,” she said serenely.

Sebastian’s immediate reaction was elation, and then a sense of doubt. Did she speak the truth? Had it really worked? He thought of ways to test the curse’s power, but he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. He also wasn’t sure how long they could do this for, and when he could do it again, if ever. The thought crossed his mind that she might even be upset with him once released from the power of the spell.

He took her hands in his, holding her cold digits in his warm palm and pulling her gently toward him. She walked as Sebastian walked them both backwards until he was stopped by one of the tall pillars.

“Tell me the truth,” he ordered. “Do you love me?”

“I do”, she said with a happy smile. “I love you.”

She didn’t hesitate to reply, her voice remaining calm and pleasant, resonating in the emptiness of the Undercroft. There was even a sense of relief in her, like months of pressure on her heart lifting as she told the truth that had for so long weight on her mind.

His heart fluttered when he heard it. A rush of pleasure and hope and enkindled dreams made his blood sing and his skin feel electric. Sebastian couldn't help but smile widely as her words echoed in his mind. He looked into the girl’s eyes with passion, with care, with affection, and at that moment wished to give her everything, and take everything from her in turn.

“Tell me what you like about me,” he said. “Better yet, come closer. Whisper it to me.”

And just as placidly as before, the girl leaned in, braced her chin over his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, all while letting her hands be held and warmed in his, their chests beating together, feet entangling on the dusty floor.

“I like how loyal you are,” she started, “and how brave, and how clever, and I like the shape of your lips, and how good you are at duelling, and I like how gentle you can be when you allow it of yourself, and I like your warm eyes, and your voice, and your scent, and the softness of your hair, and how happy you make me, and how determined you are against all the odds you face, and I like how warm you are, and the sprinkle of freckles all over your face, and —”

“Wait,” he whispered. He was already breathing heavily, just from the things she had said and the way they sounded coming from her, so close, so intimate, her breath tickling his ear and the small sounds of her lips and tongue against her teeth slipping in among her words. He felt a blush grow on his cheeks and spread up to his ears and down his chest. Never in his life had someone said such nice things to him, not Anne nor Ominis nor anybody else. He was filled with warmth as her words sank in, and had to stop her before his heart burst out of his chest.

“So, erm,” he started bashfully, “what do I smell like, to you?”

“Old books and Confringo.”

“Yes,” he laughed, embarrassed, “I guess that’s true. Suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

Sebastian brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it gently, then placed it around his shoulder. His arms then curled around her, holding her tightly against his front. He could not help himself after everything she’d said, he felt so much for her, like a rush of joy that made him whole. He could make himself believe that she spoke the truth, even though her voice was far away and dreamy under the effects of the Imperious Curse, and although he felt sorry that that was what it took for her to say it, he enjoyed this closeness with her, her voice in his ear, her shape in his arms.

Against his chest, Sebastian could feel her heart beating steadily, while his was ready to break through his ribs. He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her warm girlish scent while he waited for his nerves to settle.

“Tell me you belong to me,” he begged, his breath tickling her neck.

“I belong to you,” she whispered.

Her left arm was slung around his shoulder, where he’d placed it, while the other hung limply at her side.

“Hold me,” said Sebastian, and she obeyed immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on to him. “Tell me you love me again,” he said, feeling a shiver go down his whole body. It felt wrong to keep this going, to take this from her unwillingly like this, to satisfy his shameful urges for affection, but he needed to hear it once again.

“I love you,” she whispered, her lips close to his neck.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

The girl obeyed, speaking in heated whispers against his skin while he brought his lips down to her neck and pressed them right beneath her ear. She was especially warm there, and soft, and as he dragged his lips lower, he left a wet trail of kisses down until he reached the top of her shirt.

“Again,” he said.

Sebastian brought up a finger to tug her tie a little looser and dipped his tongue into the hollow of her clavicle, then moved back up the column of her throat. And as he pressed hot kisses into her skin, he could feel her voice reverberating through her skin as she said, again, “I love you.”

He moaned and pulled her closer, rubbing her front against his, wishing they could swallow each other up and never part again. His hands clung to the back of her school robes while hers lay loosely around his neck.

Sebastian pulled back, leaning his head against the cool pillar of the Undercroft, and caught his breath. She’d never been so close to him, and with his right hand, he leaned the girl’s head backwards, cupping her skull in his palm for him to gaze into her eyes — blank and foggy blue over her natural colour with the effects of the spell.

“Can you moan for me?” he asked breathlessly.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do it,” said Sebastian. “I want to hear it as I kiss you. Pretend to feel something, pretend you like it.”

“Yes,” she said again and tilted her head backwards as Sebastian brought his face beneath her chin to kiss her neck there too.

He could feel her gentle moans right against his lips, and little whimpers of pleasure as he nibbled at her skin — very lightly, careful not to leave a mark — and felt her shiver in his arms and press herself closer against him. His whole face felt flushed and his body was on fire, every nerve of his hungry to feel more of her, his mouth eager to consume her, his mind knowing of nothing else than the weight of her in his arms and the sound of her in his ears and the taste of her in his mouth.

Sebastian worked his way up to her chin and pecked it with light kisses, then slowly travelled up to dip his mouth beneath her lower lip.

“Sebastian,” she gasped, sounding breathless in a way he’d never dreamed of.

“Is that how you sound at night when you think of me, darling?” he asked in a moment of mad confidence.

“Yes,” she sighed.

Sebastian was stunned still at hearing it. Was that another effect of the curse? Had she just told him what he wanted to hear, or did she tell the truth?

“Sebastian,” she moaned again in a faint and quiet whisper. It was lost in the stale air of the Undercroft.

“Sebastian?” he heard call again, but this time it wasn’t in her voice.

He looked up to find Ominis standing by the entrance to the Undercroft, his wand out emitting red echoes in search of them and a little square wrapping of napkins held in his left arm. Sebastian’s blood froze in his veins for the split second it took to remember that his friend was blind. They were still in a compromising position and he couldn’t afford for Ominis to know what they had done together — or rather what Sebastian had done to her.

“Finite incantatem,” he muttered under his breath, and slowly he felt the curse melt away from the girl’s mind.

She sagged in his arms, a bit unsteady on her feet for a moment, and Sebastian held her up until she came back to her senses. He let his eyes drink her in for one final time, his gaze caressing her lips and the angle of her cheekbones and her eyes while she held her head in her hands and winced. Once he noticed she could stand on her own, he unwrapped his arms from around her waist and started walking closer to where Ominis stood.

“H-hello, Ominis,” he started. “Something the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. Only that you weren’t there for lunch,” he said, a suspicious expression plain on his face. “Either of you.” His head moved in the direction from where the girl’s breath hitched as she got her bearings. He could probably hear her footsteps too when she leaned against the pillar to cool her head.

“Were you practising something?” Ominis asked.

“No,” said Sebastian coolly. “Nothing in particular. We were just talking. Lost track of time, I suppose.”

“Then why were you saying finito after I came in?”

“Don’t worry about it, Ominis,” Sebastian groaned. His hands had begun to shake and all the warmth was drained out of his body. “Everything’s fine. Right?” he said, turning around to look at their friend.

“Right,” she said automatically, not quite looking up at either of the boys. “Hello, Ominis. We have class now, right?”

Her hand went to her neck instinctively, and it broke Sebastian’s heart to see her wipe away his kisses from her skin. Did she even realise what had happened, or was the cold feeling bothering her? Her hands went up to straighten her loosened tie next, and before she looked away Sebastian thought he caught a blush on her.

“I’m surprised you recall,” said Ominis snidely. “Nothing as interesting as the spells you practice with Sebastian, I’m sure. Do you even remember what class we have now?”

“Don’t be like that,” she muttered. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for… for…”

“Potions,” sighed Ominis.

“Your favourite,” Sebastian grinned, coming to stand by him with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Ominis narrowed his eyes at the comment. “In any case, I brought you lunch. Nothing much, just a couple of sandwiches.”

“Oh, thank you, Ominis,” she grinned brightly, sounding grateful and relieved.

“Can I have one?” Sebastian asked.

“I don’t know, can you?” he quipped. “And don’t roll your eyes at me, I can hear you doing it.”

The girl joined them and they stepped out of the Undercroft together. There was an unsteadiness to her still, which Sebastian could plainly see and Ominis could hear, but none of them made any mention of it. Sebastian’s skin still tingled where he had touched her, his lips itching to kiss her again, but beneath it was a nagging feeling that he had gone too far and betrayed her trust. He licked the taste of her off his lips one final time.

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;any other love

[raven-awed]

Defense Lessons

Professor Aesop Sharp x fem reader

Summary: Sharp offers Defense Against the Dark Art lessons to J. Pippin’s new employee.

A/n: Couldn’t resist writing for this sexy professor. I’m hoping to write a part 2! Thank you @minichrismd for the help!

*Not my picture

Professor Sharp opened the door to his office and shuffled in. With a flick of his wand the candles and lanterns illuminated.

His office was immaculate, as usual, a potion master's paradise. His shelves were stocked full of every ingredient imaginable, from Ashwinder eggs to Wormwood essence. There wasn’t a single conceivable potion he wouldn’t be able to brew with this stock.

He sighed, glancing down at the full bag he lugged into Hogwarts with him and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. Slowly, he moved to the attached closet, glaring at the door before pulling it open. A frown formed on his face as looked at the crammed shelves and the materials spilling over onto the ground.

Sharp was completely aware that he didn’t have the space for any more ingredients, but he couldn’t resist stopping at J. Pippin’s when he saw that y/n was tending the counter.

That’s how this whole mess started in the first place.

Roughly a month ago he had gone in to purchase Dugbog Tongues, as he no longer felt up to venturing into the Forbidden Forest to hunt down his own. Afterall, he wasn’t a spry wizard anymore, unable to maneuver through the thick woods or climb like he used to, especially with his limp.

When the door chimes had rang over his head, he wasn’t greeted by the familiar face of Mr. Pippins, but the warm smile of a lovely stranger. The gruff professor nodded politely as she welcomed him in and introduced herself as Mr. Pippin’s new assistant.

Her good mood must have been infectious because he soon found himself making small talk with her. She had easily impressed him with her potion’s knowledge and her eagerness to learn and improve. Perhaps if his students were more like her, he’d have more hope for the future.

He huffed again, looking at his recent purchases on the floor. Now everytime he found himself in Hogsmeade, he made some sort of excuse to see her. He dragged a hand over his face, he was too old to be acting like such a fool. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over a pretty face anymore, even if she was pleasant to talk to.

Grabbing the new supplies from the floor, he unceremoniously shoved them in the closet and slammed the door shut. He’d deal with that some other time.

In fact, a certain red headed Gryffindor came to mind, he’ll be overjoyed the next time he sneaks in here to steal ingredients. Sharp could just let him know everything in the closet up for grabs, but it was more fun to make him work for it. That Weasley boy would rob him blind if Sharp isn’t careful.

The week progressed as usual, lessons, potion brewing, sending students with minor burns or cuts to the hospital wing. One student had managed to singe his eyebrows off, it was probably the most memorable event of the week.

By the weekend, Professor Sharp was ready for a break, he went to the Three Broomsticks by himself and had a few drinks. He didn’t see y/n on his way over when he passed the potion shop, just Mr. Pippin assisting a couple of customers.

He sighed as he finished his last drink of brandy, setting the empty glass on the bar and rising to his feet.

The autumn air was brisk and the sun was beginning to set as he started walking back to the castle. On the bright side, he saved a few galleons by not spending anything at J Pippin’s, that man already has enough of his salary.

As he slowly headed back to the castle, Sharp froze when he spotted y/n walking towards him, or to be more precise towards Hogsmeade.

A wide friendly smile made its way on her face as she waved at him. “Good evening, Professor Sharp!”

He nodded, “Evening.”

She looked a little less composed than normal, her hair a slightly out of place with leaves sticking out, she was wearing pants instead of her typical uniform she wore at the shop, and there was mud caked onto her boots.

“Did I miss you at the shop?” She asked, her voice was light and sweet. “I was just out collecting some ingredients in the forest.” She held up her sack.

He shook his head, “I’m already set for the week with ingredients.” And probably for the rest of the year, he thought to himself.

They continued to walk towards each other, meeting halfway. Sharp narrowed his eyes and immediately pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket, “You’re bleeding.”

“Oh?” Y/n blinked in surprise while the older man began to clean the blood from her temple.

“What happened out there?” He asked firmly, on the outside he appeared as calm and collected as ever, but he’d be lying if he said that his pulse didn’t start racing at the sight of y/n hurt.

“Poachers,” she answered quietly. “Didn’t know I was so close to their camp before they attacked.”

Sharp frowned, lifting the handkerchief to get a better look at the wound. The cut was long and gushing blood, there also appeared to be some dirt mixed in.

“I’m alright, really I am,” she tried to reassure him, placing her hand on his.

“We should go to the hospital wing, have the nurse check it,” he suggested.

“It’s just a scratch-“

“There are all sorts of things out there in those woods, could get infected if you’re not careful,” he explained. “Come on.”

“But I should really take these back-“

“Your health is more important,” Sharp pointed out. “Parry will understand.”

Sharp escorted y/n to the castle and up to the hospital wing. He lingered while she was examined, sitting quietly with his brow furrowed, while he mulled things over.

It wouldn’t be reasonable for him to ask her not to go back, especially with her line of work. Perhaps he could suggest that next time he could accompany her, however, as a retired auror he knew that dangerous witches and wizards were everywhere, not just lurking in the Forbidden Forest.

From what he had seen y/n had proven to be a capable witch, skilled at potions and quite knowledgeable about other subjects, maybe with more support she could learn to properly defend herself. She most likely knew the basics, but he could show her a few more advanced spells, help her be prepared for next time.

Sharp cleared his throat, his dark eyes locking onto hers as the nurse finished treating the wound. “Starting next week, I’d like to offer you lessons.”

Y/n lifted her brow and tilted her head, “Potion lessons?”

“Defense against the dark arts lessons,” he stated, rising to his feet. “With some practice, I’ll have you ready to take on any dark witch or wizard.”

He acquired a practice dummy from Professor Hecat and brought it up to his classroom. He flicked his wand and all the tables and potion stations moved to the side clearing the space in the center of the classroom.

They met once a week for lessons, Sharp taught y/n advanced spells that were not part of the basic curriculum as well as strategies he had used back when he was auror. Sometimes two seemingly unrelated spells could be a powerful combination if used in the right order at the right moment.

Sharp’s main goal was to get y/n more accustomed to using these spells, make it so it was second nature for her to defend and attack if posed with a threat. The only way for that to happen was practice, lots and lots of practice.

Her nerves and discomfort were apparent from the beginning. Her hand would tremble slightly each time she attempted to produce a combat spell.

“Defensive magic wasn’t exactly my favorite while in school,” she explained one day as Sharp pushed the practice dummy in front of her. “Was always too much pressure, too much risk, I didn’t want to accidentally hurt anyone.”

Sharp sighed, “Unfortunately the world doesn’t share that mindset, cause out there,” he gestured to the window, “There are plenty of witches and wizards who couldn’t care less who they hurt, and if you’re not prepared, you’ll wind up injured again or worse because of one of them.”

Y/n nodded, taking his words in, she hadn’t shared with him how shaken up she had been after the attack. In all honesty, she was quite scared that something like that would indeed happen again.

“Let’s retry that spell,” he directed. “And no holding back this time. It’s important to have conviction when casting, remember that.”

Y/n practices the spell a few more times, getting better with each turn. She wondered if Sharp is this patient with his actual students; she had graduated from Hogwarts before he took on the role of Potions Master.

“You’re improving,” Sharp pointed out as they finished for the evening. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Good night Professor Sharp,” y/n smiled, heading towards the door.

He frowned for a brief moment. “Y/n?” He called.

“Yes,” she answered, spinning around on her heels to face him.

“You know, it’s unnecessary for you to call me ‘professor’,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “You aren’t my student.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” y/n pursed her lips for a moment. “Mr. Sharp…?” She addressed him, but unsure as the words left her mouth.

“Aesop would suffice.” His eyes remained as cool as ever, but in truth the matter had been bothering him for quite sometime now. Her referring to him as Professor Sharp presented a hierarchy when there shouldn’t be one, or at least he didn’t want her to think there was one.

“Oh, alright,” she responded, a little wide eyed, heart fluttering more than it should. “Good night Aesop.”

A barely noticeable half smile formed on his lips as he prepared his classroom for the following morning, it even remained as he retired for the night.

In the weeks that followed, Sharp observed y/n’s growth, she had become more confident and casted spells with ease. But besting a dummy in the safety of a classroom was nothing like a real duel.

“Today we will be doing something different,” he explained while shucking off his coat and laying it on the back of his desk chair.

Y/n tilted her head, face heating up as Aesop also removed his tie and vest. “What did you have in mind exactly?”

“Dueling,” he answered with a smirk.

Her face fell, “Me duel you?”

His smirk grew, “I’ll go easy on you, but this is the best way to see how you’d fare in an actual fight.” Aesop drew his wand, “Ready?”

Y/n raised her wand but she hesitated to cast a spell, Sharp, however, didn’t.

“Expelliarmus,” he shouted.

“Protego,” she responded just in the nick of time, deflecting the curse.

Flashes of lights lit up the classroom as the duel evolved into a dance as they circled each other. There wasn’t a single pause or lull between spells.

“Depulso!” Y/n blinked in surprise when the spell actually landed, sending Aesop flying back. Immediately she rushed over.

“Aesop!” She knelt beside him, her hands cupping his face as he groaned slightly. “Are you hurt?”

Her touch was so light and gentle as she cradled his head. It had been quite a long time since anyone touched him like this.

Looking up at her so close to him, his face began heating up. Sharp cleared his throat, “I’m fine.”

“Looks like you can hold your own in a fight,” he commented, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. He frowned for a moment as his own words sunk in. “I suppose that means you don’t need anymore lessons,” he explained solemnly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she agreed, with a hint of disappointment in her voice.

They both stood at the doorway, realizing that they wouldn't be seeing each other anytime soon.

Sharp could try to go back to the shop, but he knew after spending so much time in his classroom that she had noticed his well stocked shelves. He racked his brain for another excuse to spend time with her but he was drawing a blank.

He sighed, glancing at y/n, she had probably had other things to do tonight, “Well, good night-“

“We should get drinks!” Y/n chirped, interrupting him. Her face revealing her excitement over the prospect. “To celebrate and as a thank you!”

“As a thank you?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes! For teaching me how to properly defend myself! Nothing big,” she rattled on. “Just drinks and maybe dinner. Does next week work for you at the Three Broomsticks?”

Aesop smiled, “See you next week.”

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp x reader #professor sharp #professor sharp x reader #female reader #reader insert #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Cowboy Like Me - Part 3

Azriel x Reader

Part three of my fic inspired by the queens of my heart, Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas.

Warnings: Language, references to SA

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

“At least one of you has the agility of a spy.” The grey eyed beauty tsk’d.

A smug look of satisfaction flickered across my face. “I swear he wasn’t this clumsy when we danced on the pleasure barge.”

Nesta smirked, “He wasn’t this clumsy when we danced in the Court of Nightmares either.”

Azriel’s features contorted into that of mock offense. “I missed ONE step.”

My eyes rolled back. “Yeah, tell that to my poor foot that your one missed step landed on.”

Nesta and I both giggled before Azriel finally stated “Okay, we’re done here.” turning around leaving the two of us behind.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Don’t trip over your feet on your way out, Az!” to which I was greeted with a vulgar gesture.

Nesta and I once again burst into laughter. She placed a firm yet delicate hand on my shoulder as we both fought to catch our breath.

I hadn’t known what to expect when Rhysand informed me that I’d be brushing up on ballroom dancing with the fierce sister of the High Lady, the King Slayer herself, but it certainly wasn’t an afternoon of finding amusement at Azriel’s expense. I could get used to such lessons.

Before Rhysand came back to retrieve Nesta, we enjoyed a cup of lavender tea together. Aside from a brief walk-through the seating area where he swiped a biscuit off my plate, Azriel sulked elsewhere in the palace.

Poor Illyrian baby.

Nesta laughed so hard that she nearly spit out her tea when I informed her of my stealthy baguette attack on the Spymaster the night before. Though, despite all of the laughter, I could see in her eyes that she cared for the male and none of the humor at his expense was entirely malicious.

“This is good for him.” Nesta whispered. “He’s always been quiet but lately he’s been noticeably quieter - making himself scarce. He doesn’t even come to family dinners like he used to.”

“Oh.” I muttered. “Do you know why?”

Nesta started to speak but caught herself, shrugging. “I’m not sure.”

Very well, I was a spy after all. One that wasn’t from her court. I wouldn’t share too much with me either - not to mention that they were friends and it was his information to share.

We enjoyed the remainder of our tea in casual conversation with Nesta confirming that she’d return in two days to instruct Azriel and I further. She parted with what could have been a threat or just friendly words of advice, softly yet firmly put. “He’s a good male. Try not to be too hard on him.”

With a wink she walked out of the palace to meet Rhys.

~~~~~~~~~~

After a long soak in the bath, I indulged in another comfortable Night Court lounge set - this pair including a silken set of shorts falling just below the curve of my ass and wandered to the kitchen.

A meal was already placed on the table, set for two. I wandered over and loaded my plate. It felt silly to sit by myself at such a formal table but I wasn’t exactly sure of the “etiquette” surrounding dining alone in a castle - seating myself next to a fireplace would be optimal.

As I dug into the seasoned roast on my plate, I noticed a shadow make its way to my wrist. “Hello, Shadowsinger.” I stated without looking up from my plate. “Sending your friends to spy on me?”

Azriel stepped into view with a cocky grin. “Just didn’t want you falling out of your chair again.”

I scoffed. “Alright, I deserved that.”

We sat in silence for a few moments before he looked up to meet my eyes.

“You said earlier that you had trained with others,” his eyes swirled with something akin to rage before gently continuing, “others who were not so professional. Why?”

“Why did I train with them or why did I tell you?”

“No, I appreciate that you told me. It’s not easy to open up about past experiences like that.” His face turned empathetic. “but why did you train with them? What path led you there?”

I paused. Nobody had ever asked me such a question before. I barely knew this male and yet he looked at me like he cared. Perhaps it was all a part of the Spymasters rouse but… I bought it. He looked at me as if I was more than just an asset to be used for one form of gain or another - a pain in his ass, yes, but something more than that.

He gave me a moment before his deep voice broke through the silence. “You- you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, I just,” suddenly my nails were very interesting. “Well, I-“

here goes nothing.

“Nobody has every asked me that before. The path has been a spool of memories unraveling within me, threading itself into the the very fibers of my being. I’ve just never… verbalized it.”

His fixed gaze remained patiently upon me, allowing time for my words to form.

“My parents were murdered when I was a child - barely twelve. Amarantha’s cronies ambushed my village, our house being one of the first that they broke into. Like a coward, I hid. My mother was skilled with glamours, using her last burst of power to put a glamour over the door to our underground cellar.”

My throat bobbed as I caught my breath. “Though my parents had instructed me to hide - it ate away at me. What if I could have done something? Anything? To help them - to help the others in my village.

By the time they were through, half of the houses were irreparably burnt, and most of my village had been murdered. They didn’t light the home aflame until after their brutal raid was over and I was fortunate enough that my home was one of the last lit aflame. Someone from the town winnowed to the Summer Court gathering a group of fae with water abilities to help put out the fires. My house was damaged but fortunately, livable enough to carry on with part of a roof over my head.

I spent the next several years there. I had hoped in time the village would rebuild but the remaining population dwindled over the years. The memories too unbearable and the homes far too damaged - the effort of repairing them not worth it.”

I paused, my trembling fingers wrapping around the glass of water before me as I took a sip. Setting the glass back down, I continued.

“When I was sixteen, and word spread that the remaining villagers were fleeing, I knew that the effort of surviving would be too much. I was skilled in hunting and even growing produce but I was one person. I couldn’t spend the remainder of my life in solitude, so I decided to take life back into my own hands.

Never again would I cower. I refused to be afraid. If danger found me again, I would defend myself. I traveled from court to court, taking up any apprenticeship that could aid in building my strengths, both mental and physical. I became adept in glamours, fighting with a range of weapons, stealth and agility, forging weapons, information extraction and so forth. In turn, I would assist my mentors with everything from household duties to their work.

The problem was, over time the males would become entitled. An ‘accidental’ slip of the hand that would reoccur until it became outright groping, there were multiple instances of males attempting to force themselves on me, some would bring in sleazy acquaintances in hopes that I would offer ‘services’ to them.

There were a couple of males who kept their hands to themselves but eventually their partners would become uncomfortable and send me away. I didn’t blame them, however. It was uncommon enough for a female to practice such trades. Townsfolk would gossip, rumors would spread, and they’d be forced to send me away or ruin their reputations - they couldn’t afford to lose business over salacious gossip.”

I took another swig of water and gestured around me, “and now, here I am.”

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw - an unreadable expression on his face.

“Who?” he asked, his voice as dark as night.

“Who, what?” I puzzled.

“Who touched you?”

I huffed a bitter laugh, raising an eyebrow over my next sip of water. “Remember when I said I’d never cower again? Those males are either dead or missing their favorite appendages.”

His expression changed to one that could be read as… pride? Silence momentarily overtaking the room.

His deep voice finally cut through the silence as he spoke two words that sent a wave of heat through my body.

“Good girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I couldn’t sleep that night. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, I stalked out to the seating area with a romance novel I’d found on one of the shelves in the palace. I was surprised to find Azriel seated in one of the chairs, a glass of whiskey in hand.

“You’re up late.” I whispered.

“As are you.” He stated plainly.

“Couldn’t sleep.” I replied.

He nodded his head in understanding adding a two finger pour of whiskey to a glass, holding it out for me.

I accepted, sitting in the seat opposite of his. We sat in companionable silence as I read and he laid his head back, staring at the ceiling.

An hour later I was jolted from my reading by a soft snore. I looked up to see Az had nodded off in his chair. I chuckled to myself at the sight, but couldn’t help reveling in the softness of those sharp features. He truly was the most beautiful male I’d ever seen - I wondered if he realized his own beauty.

I retrieved a blanket from a nearby settee and gently placed it on him. Azriel didn’t stir, only his shadows briefly circled around me before deeming that I wasn’t a threat - one playfully tickling my ear.

I didn’t have the heart to leave him in the room alone, so I laid myself on the settee and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

AZRIEL

A tug pulled him from his rest.

“Look.” his shadows whispered.

“See her.”

He opened his bleary eyes, smiling as they adjusted to the sight before him.

Gods. She was beautiful. The soft glow of the fire illuminating her feminine features added a delicate warmth to her that felt almost intimate - how rarely did she allow others to see her in such a vulnerable state? In this moment, you’d never know the strife she’d been through in her life. He couldn’t help but appreciate it - this moment of trust she was gifting him - laying her guard down before him, that strength she carried herself with at rest. He couldn’t help the feeling of contentment stirring within him at the sight. So many feared him - and for good reason - yet she felt comfortable enough to not only bring him a blanket but to fall asleep in the same space as him.

He gazed at her for longer than he cared to admit before his shadows lulled him back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning came quickly. I awoke to Azriel tapping my shoulder gently. “Wake up” he whispered.

“What- what time is it?” I asked.

“Time to get up - we’ve got a big day today.”

I let out a groan as I stretched, “I thought we were taking the day off from training?”

“We are.” He stated. “Get ready and meet me back here in an hour.”

“It’s too early for your cryptic bullshit, Azriel.” I yawned. “What are we doing?”

He smirked, arms crossed in a warriors stance. “We’re going to Velaris.”

———————————

Tags: @fxckmiup

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