#just realized I didn’t color the feathers

[shanastoryteller]

when i was in second grade my teacher asked the class, “what weighs more - a thousand pounds of rocks or a thousand pound of feathers?”

he asked everyone who thought that a thousand pounds of rocks to raise their hands

then he asked everyone who thought that a thousand pounds of feathers raised more to raise their hands

there was this kid, kyle, who didn’t raise his hand for either. i remember looking at kyle in confusion, because he always participated during math, and the teacher asked him, “why didn’t you raise your hand?” 

and he answered, “neither is heavier. they weigh they same - they’re both a thousand pounds.” 

kyle was a smart kid

the teacher goes “exactly! the rest of you weren’t actively thinking about the question.” 

when i was in the second year of my first adult job after college, we did a series team building exercise with my whole department and they were conducted by this outside consultant that did this for a living. 

she put us into two groups and gave each group a different colored bag of puzzle pieces and put us on opposite sides of the room and started the timer. we were racing to complete the puzzle first, but we realized we were missing several pieces and had pieces we couldn’t make fit. the other group realized the same and it turns out we had to swap pieces to complete our puzzles, or work together, as she put it. 

“i never told you that you couldn’t work together,” she said smugly. “you decided that because you were in different groups, that meant you were competing.” 

and i was seven years old again, being tricked 

i understand what these people were trying to do. but. 

my teacher asks me a question giving me two options. why would i assume there’s a third? shouldn’t i trust my teacher if he tells me that there are two options, that one of them is correct? in any other situation, going “neither” to a question would be considered backtalk, and get you in trouble

we did not naturally come from two different groups and refuse to work together - we were put there, artificially, and then given a task that we had no reason to believe we needed to do together. and then when we saw there was a need, we did! what was proven here, exactly?

if you set someone up to fail, and then they do, considering that failure a commentary on the human condition is just self serving

these instances teach important lessons, but not necessarily the ones i think they wanted to

question authority

make sure you’re not being set up for failure by people who have a vested interest in that failure 

“active reading” and “working together” are fine enough lessons, i guess, but the most important one is this:

don’t get got

[shiny-jr]

➸ damnation [ the raven retainer ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

– Note: Hopefully everything transferred over okay from the quiz. Been holding off on this one because I know with the amount of Pomefiore and Vil admirers, posting this is like lighting up a firework by hand and having to run before it goes off.

– Pages: 42

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The Vizier's Vassal   |   The Raven Retainer   |   ?????

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall! 

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment? 

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.” 

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! A page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven? 

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending. 

Knowing this brought you some much needed relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be. 

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard. 

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace. 

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing. 

“Thank you…! You saved me!” 

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you may already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?” 

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his worn and tattered attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.” 

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…” 

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure. 

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you. 

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story. 

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!” 

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason. 

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.” 

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass. 

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming. 

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!” 

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathers fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow. 

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger. 

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke it caused you to freeze. 

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.” 

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him. 

“Closer.” 

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne. 

“Closer.” 

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.” 

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.” 

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.” 

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear. 

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile. 

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes. 

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!” 

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him. 

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.” 

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two. 

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago. 

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival. 

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.” 

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it. 

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!” 

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.” 

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king. 

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?” 

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess. 

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You replied hastily with a slow bow. He didn’t need to tell you twice. Just from your few moments here, you can already tell that the king was frightening when vexed, and you did not want to stick around to see if that got worse when he spoke privately with his huntsman. And yet, as you turned tail to retreat back into the hallway past the closed doors, you knew the heir he mentioned could have only been the only other person in the room: Epel. 

Epel, much like you, didn’t seem to have any desire to stick around longer than necessary. Once you and the heir were out and the doors were closed shut, simultaneously you both heaved a sigh of relief, although short and brief as the heavy weight of the king's command was still prominent. There must’ve been even more on the young heir’s mind, because his gaze flittered over to you and he began to eye you suspiciously. With a surprising amount of strength for someone of his short stature and delicate appearance, he grabbed your arm and began to drag you down the halls away from the throne room, soldiers standing guards, and anyone else. Until you were in a different setting, by one of the castle’s exits to a dark backside corner of the garden where there was just one big oak tree that provided shade underneath its huge branches. What was this about? Why did he bring you here? 

Those questions were answered when he finally stopped underneath the tree and let go of your limb, only to whip his head back at you with such an angered expression that caught you off guard. The location now seemed like some place he could yell in frustration without being caught, because it was so quiet and isolated here. “That entire time, when that crazy old goon with that stupid metal crown basically kidnapped me from my home and brought me here for his little contest I wanted no part of, you knew he’d want the losers dead, didn’t you?! Hell, you helped him get rid of the bodies! I trustedyou, you big fat lying s––!” 

Quickly clamping your right hand over his mouth to shut him up, you stared at him as he gazed at you wide-eyed, as if shocked you’d even try to stop him. It dawned on you then. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” Just then, you felt a sharp pain in your palm. Hissing, you immediately retracted your hand, shocked to see some broken skin and feel it sting. He just bit you––! 

Epel spat onto the ground, infuriated as he yelled, “Are you daft? All that time in the undercroft made your brain rot or something?” An idea came to him. Still angry, but brightening up substantially, he lifted his head and glared at you. “Rook’s busy with Vil, and if I beat you there’d be no one to take me back to that stuffy prison of a room.” From his hip, he unsheathed a dagger and pointed it at you. “Out of my way, or I’ll make sure you join the rest of those duds you buried!” 

Removing your own weapon, the short sword from your back, that you thankfully were still carrying and was larger than his own blade, you pointed it at him. “You were saying, Epel, was it?” Seeing his confident expression falter, you decided to add quickly just in case he tried to act recklessly and try attacking you with his dagger anyways. “I’ll tell you this because it seems we both want to live and I believe we might be able to help each other get what we want. So let’s get something straight, I am not the retainer you know.” 

You gave him a moment to process what you said as you both lowered your weapons. In the quiet of the brief moment, you listened for any sign of prying ears but there was none. Upon seeing Epel’s confusion and suspicion with his guard still raised, you continued, 

“It’s unbelievable, I know, but I’m not the same person. Where I come from, this place is a lot like a fairytale story but different. I was arrested back home and sent here as punishment. This means my punishment was to take the role of the pet or servant of the royal and face some unknown demise. Now, from what I’ve picked up, it sounds like you’re here against your will too. Both of us might end up dead if we’re not careful.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of Epel watching you closely and deciding on what to do, he lowered his dagger completely after he saw you lower yours. “That sounds like a load of crap but… the real retainer would know better than to talk to Neige of all people. You didn’t, which explains that.” Maybe he wasn’t entirely convinced by your narrative, because he proceeded to ask, “You said this was like some kid’s story you read once or somethin’? Tell me what happens to me.” 

“That’s the issue. It’s an old story that doesn’t go into detail, you weren’t even a character and my role is just a raven.” Placing away your sword that you handled a bit awkwardly, since you really had no idea how to use it, but the heir didn’t seem to notice that as he placed away his own weapon. “From what I got, you were brought here against your will and there were others that are no longer here. Now, you’re the royal heir. Care to explain?” 

Raising an eyebrow, Epel demanded, “If I tell you, you have to promise to tell me something. You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you?” 

“I do.” Nodding at his words in confirmation, you then answered, “Of course I’ll tell you since we’re helping each other out.” 

After a second, he sighed, “Fine. I’ll trust you, but only because you’re not really the retainer. Ya see, I’m from a small farming town near the borderlands. A few months ago, Vil gave a secret proclamation. He wanted the seven of the most beautiful candidates gathered at his castle, status or talent didn’t matter, as long as they were younger than him and had looks up to his high standards. Rook, you met him already, was in charge of finding these candidates and bringing them in whether they liked it or not, and you, or well… the old retainer, were in charge of taking the loser home whenever someone failed one of Vil’s challenges. At least, that’s what they told us. My guess is that the king doesn’t want his little brother to inherit the throne since he’s so jealous and all. All the candidates had a chance to become the next in line for the throne if they won all the challenges, and if they lost they got to go home. But no matter how hard I tried to lose, you kept me from losing so I guess I owe the old retainer for that because without them I’d be… probably lying face-down in a ditch somewhere.” 

Slowly he shrugged, those words he uttered now being processed in his mind. It seemed to have struck him, because he became quiet. 

“... I was the last one standing, even though I didn’t wanna be. Ever since then, I’ve been stuck here, forced to spend my days with strict lessons being taught by Vil. All my escape attempts were stopped by Rook, of course, that crazy loon…” Gazing up at you, he slowly regained his confidence and nodded, “But now, I’m gonna escape for sure this time and go back home! Screw the crown and these dumb silk clothes!” 

“Easy, Epel, for now we just do as we’re told. I don’t want things to get too out of hand if it isn’t necessary. In the original story, the queen, king in this situation, causes his own death. As long as we avoid angering him AND avoid Neige, we should be fine. But…” You considered your next words carefully. What if something goes wrong? What if things had to change drastically in order to survive? Would you have a better chance at surviving if the protagonist, Neige, were to actually die and the antagonist, Vil, receive a good ending instead? You didn’t truly want to kill the prince, even if he was naive, he seemed like a truly good person. But if it was you or him… “I still need to see how things play out. If it comes down to it and things take a wrong turn, how far will you go to survive?” 

Epel gave you a look before scoffing and taking out his dagger as a reminder, “I was about ready to stab ya just to escape and get back home. I’ll do anything to make it outta here alive, to make sure both of us live. But now since you’re helping me out, and I’m helping you out, we gotta stick together. Got it?”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

For your own safety, you deemed it better to do nothing in the meanwhile as you waited to see if the plot would progress as it did in the story. What you hadn’t taken into account was how long the wait would be. Apparently when Vil instructed Rook to escort Neige out to be discreetly killed, he didn’t mean right at that second. It was something he had planned to happen soon, but not quite yet. This gave you enough time to assess the situation.

One thing you were grateful for was the former retainer’s work ethic. The beautiful king had deemed you had done enough by assisting in his endeavors that included potion-brewing and murder, something you hadn’t actually done, at least not for him. So, your responsibilities included keeping Epel in check as a prince-in-training and staying out to receive enough sunlight as per Vil’s strict orders. 

For the remainder of the first day and the following second day, you and Epel reviewed the lessons he loathed and quietly retreated to garden grooves to discuss possible plans of action including what to do afterwards when you had both gained your freedom. Additionally, you learned from the heir that you were not so different from the character you replaced. Even Epel admitted he was fooled until that one mistake you made of acknowledging Neige. So, all you would have to do was keep calm and be yourself, but also not yourself. You were technically playing the role of someone else that just happened to act like you. 

Your superior had summoned you on the second night. When you arrived, you saw servants around the ballroom decorating the area with fine silk curtains and candelabras. Round tables set up in another section of the extensive room, tables set with sheets and porcelain. Vil stood at the edge of the room, noticing you out of the corner of his eyes as another attendant brought to his attention something about outfits. 

As Vil began to strut towards another room, you could do nothing but follow as he commanded, “Hurry now, my retainer.” 

You did as you were told, following and noting down the little details from the dark colors used in most of the decorations as well as the mention of flowers being prepared. Once in a private room with you and his entourage, he delicately removed his crown from his blonde tresses. “Epel is much more tame with you. I swear, that boy is giving me white hair.” 

No, but you’re going to do that to yourself, you think as you recall the scene from the story where the beautiful queen turns herself into a ragged old hag. “He can be… a little troublesome, yes.” You stand closer to the door as the beautiful young man disappears behind an elegantly patterned dressing screen. 

Judging by the servants there carefully handling various types of clothes, you could only assume he was trying on different outfits for whatever event he was preparing to host. During a review of Epel’s lessons, you were able to learn as well. Despite Vil being a person of great envy and cruelty, he was actually a fair leader that was beloved by most, so long as they didn’t incur his wrath. Reportedly, multiple nobles, knights, and other royals have vied for the beautiful king’s affection, but to no avail. All were turned down. 

“Troublesome, hah, you’re being much too kind. That wouldn’t be my choice of word.” Vil scoffed as he changed behind the screen. Once he was seemingly satisfied with an outfit after throwing multiple aside, he emerged in a slightly long, dark, and exquisite dress-like garb with large sleeves. Snapping his fingers, he stood straight as his eyes lingered on you as he said simply, “Jewels.” 

Picking up his meaning, you gingerly plucked the intricate golden necklace a nearby servant was carrying on a pillow and assisted him in placing it on. You steadied your breathing as you noticed that he was watching you carefully. Moving in front of him, you placed the detailed and sharp claw rings on his index finger and ring finger as he raised his hand. 

“How is this?” 

You took a step back and looked him over when you realized he was speaking to you, not anyone else in the room. You knew what he wanted to hear, but you couldn’t help but think that the evil king was indeed…. “Gorgeous.” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he extended out his arm, the tip of the silver claw he wore on his finger at your neck as you instinctively lifted your chin at his gesture to avoid being poked. You weren’t really sure what he was thinking, and it was making you anxious. Had he seen through you as Epel had? Or perhaps he was cross? There were a million different ways to die in this story. There was a reason you were sent here and that was to meet a cruel end. 

“You flatter me, my retainer. I know you don’t sugarcoat words.” Vil tilted his head, analyzing you from another angle as he smiled. Unexpectedly, his soft and pale hand was placed on your cheek. You felt your heart stop, whether from fear or something else, you couldn’t be sure. “You see, proper sunlight and sleep does work miracles. You no longer have those horrid eyebags.” Lowering his hand, his smile was gone as he seemed to recall something. “You’re the only competent and trustworthy person in this entire castle, my pet, besides myself, of course. What would I do without you? Always there for me, even before I ascended to the throne. Even when my father married that awful woman that brought the perfect lovely boy that became my brother and a stain in my life…” 

After a moment of considering your response, you replied quietly, “You have always loathed Neige, haven’t you…?” The prince’s sweet words and shy smile instantly came to mind. 

Upon detecting your words, you watched his expression sour as he instantly commanded everyone, who were too far and busy to hear anyways, to leave at once. All except you. Now, you remain alone with the king. It seems like you hit a nerve with your words, and you feared what he would do to you now that the two of you were alone.

Vil took a sharp breath before raising his head to meet your eyes. Under his intense gaze, you felt small but you merely swallowed your growing restlessness and kept your lips shut as he began, “I’ve always told you that I do not want you to ever utter his name. I lost the kingdom’s people to him, my friends left me for him, even my own father was beginning to favor him! I refuse to lose you too! If that boy takes one more thing away from me––” 

“I’ve stayed this long.” You attempted, interjecting with words that you thought would fit this character you were playing. 

“Because I demanded it.” His response caught you by surprise, but what was more unnerving was what came out of his lips next. “Father accepted my request for you to become my retainer, but the woman he married did not. And so, I concocted my very own poison, more lethal than cyanide, and slipped it into her wine. You are here because I wanted you here. Of course, I never revealed that to you until now.” You were given almost no time to process his words as he changed the subject, lifting his hand to admire his silver claw rings and painted nails. “I must admit, I was beginning to become a little concerned with you hardly leaving the undercroft in recent months. I was afraid you had become dull as I kept you to myself, and you know I don’t exactly like dull people by my side. I didn’t want to toss you aside after all we’ve been through together.”

Pursing your lips, reeling from this wave of new information, you murmured, albeit unsurely, “I don’t believe I’m dull… I like to think of myself as interesting.” 

Amethyst eyes landed on you, the blonde man scrutinizing you as he gibed with a frown, “Was I asking your opinion or stating mine?” 

Staring right at him, your snarky reply is already pouring out before you can even stop it. “Well, are you asking me my opinion…?” It’s silent as his cold gaze instantly lands on you. Shit. You instantly avert your eyes downward and bow your head in apology, knowing you fucked up. This was why you kept everything to yourself. This king poisoned his own step-mother for not giving him what he wanted, he ordered the former retainer to kill six innocent candidates for his competition to become heir, and he was willing to murder his very own brother who admired and loved him. What would he do to a raven with a sharp tongue? Just as possible scenarios begin flashing in your mind and you remain bowing, you clenched your fist, prepared to unsheath your hidden sword under your cloak and fight back if necessary–– when he laughed. Vil laughed. 

It wasn’t a mocking one of ridicule, but rather an amused one. Lifting the back of his hand to his lips to partially cover his mouth, his laughing ceased. There was amusement, a wicked and eager look in his eyes as he hummed, “There’s that plucky side of you I missed so dearly!” Smiling, he reached forward, carefully tugging your hood down as he scolded lightly, “What have I said about wearing your hood around me? Especially indoors. Honestly, you never learn. I should strip you of that cloak you always stubbornly refuse to remove, that way you always show your face as you’re told.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. It won’t happen again…” Unsurely you kept quiet, only offering to change the subject once the king had reached over to trail his fingers along the side of your face. “If I may ask, what’s the occasion? I wasn’t notified of these ongoing preparations.” 

“A funeral.” Vil noticed how you went quiet and how your eyes widened. At your reaction, he chuckled, lowering his hand away from your face to tap his sharp finger against his chin. “Why so quiet? Don’t worry, it’s not for you. It’s merely… a preparation in advance.” Oh. You realized who it was for now. The thought of his rival dying seemed to bring the king joy as he smiled so cruelly. How morbid. Then, his attention returned back to you. It seemed he was thinking of something else now once his sights landed on some trashed envelopes in the bin, because his expression had turned to one of mild annoyance. “These suitors from afar are so bothersome. No matter how I refuse their advances, they continue with their gifts and letters filled with flattery, thinking that’ll be enough to win me over. How wrong they are. Love affairs are of no use or any interest to me…” 

You gazed at the bin chock full of paper and shattered gifts. Your voice was quiet, but it carried in the silence of the room. “It must be difficult to be so admired…” 

“Indeed it is.” Vil nodded, continuing to tap his chin thoughtfully. Those eyes on the trashed envelopes slowly made their way over to you, his slight frown morphing to an amused smile. “Although, perhaps I’ve changed my mind…” Extending his hand, you slowly and unsurely slid your left hand into his palm. Vil stepped closer, so close you could smell his sweet perfume and all you could see was him. You felt like a caged bird, cornered, as he leaned just a tad bit closer and continued to smile. However, now his smile was more teasing, but it felt wicked and dubious, “Once Neige is gone, all that time I spent being tormented and pestered by him, can now be dedicated to you. Lately, I’ve been watching you, and there’s something intriguing about you now. It’s as if you’re no longer so absorbed in your work, like you’re finally seeing me as something more than just your superior. You haven’t been brewing potions of passion in the undercroft, have you?” 

By now your face was hot, burning at his implications, by his close proximity, by the look in his eyes that made you think he may genuinely be interested but the tiny voice of reason in the back of your head waving red flags at his notions. When he suspected you were even considering looking away from his intense gaze to avoid eye contact, he squeezed your hands in warning, his nail rings pricking your skin ever so slightly. So you were forced to meet his gaze and reply awkwardly, “Of course not… I’m not you.” 

The king cackled, raising the back of his other hand to his lips again. With a tone of confidence, he did not even hesitate to respond, “Oh, you’re funny. My poor pet… I would say you’re bird-brained, but you’re not that.” He leaned his head right beside yours, until his painted lips lingered by your ear. The proximity was making you dizzy. His voice was like honey as he whispered, “I don’t need a potion to win you over––” 

“Your Majesty, our wondrous Vil!” 

Saved by the huntsman. You resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief while Vil continued to grip your hands and slowly pull away, his head turned to glare at the one who dared to interrupt the moment he was so engrossed in. It seemed he wanted to say something, but he managed to control himself as he merely hissed, “Speak.” 

During the pause, you were able to shift your gaze over to him. The huntsman was at the open window, one foot inside already and hands gripping the sides to heave himself up. Why didn’t he come through the door like a normal person? Wasn’t this room on the second floor? 

“I have to remind you of your meeting with your precious heir apparent.” Rook smiled as he fully entered through the window, seemingly paying no heed to the scene he just stumbled upon or the vexation in the king’s tone. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Releasing his hold on your hand, he sent you one last chilling glance. When he leaned closer once again to whisper in your ear, your breath hitched as he purred, “Later.” Once he stepped away, he gave you one last mesmerizing look before exiting the room. Yes, you were thankful you didn’t have to deal with the king until next time, but now you pitied Epel for having to stand his presence for hours of lecturing and scolding.  

Once the king was gone, you felt vulnerable. While he was pushing you on the edge with his advances and you knew any sign of rejection might tick him off, it was a different kind of unease now that you were alone with the huntsman who you eyed warily. By the time your eyes drifted back to him, you felt your heart rate spike as you noticed he was staring. Upon your gaze meeting his own, he merely smiled a little wider as he hummed. 

There was no way you would willingly stick around to be alone with him. 

As you slid your hood back on, prepared to take your leave as well, the huntsman’s sharp green eyes landed on the palm of your right hand that was lifted up to move your hood. For a moment, his narrowed gaze vanished and instead was replaced with a quizzical look and a curious smile. Stepping forward, he took your hand in his gloved grip, but he was careful as the tip of his finger traced the now fading injury caused by Epel’s bite. He gasped lightly.

“My, my, what kind of beast could have caused this damage that tarnished your skin? How dare they, for a creature as lovely as you to be wounded like this, why, it should be criminal!” 

You hesitate, looking down at the mark that had partially healed on its own. It wasn’t that deep anyways. “Dog.” 

Those watchful green eyes flickered up to your expression for a moment, before he chuckled and shook his head. His blonde hair swished back and forth a bit with his head movement, as he removed some gauze from his satchel. There was a hint of amusement that appeared in his smile, and while he wrapped the gauze around your hand, he spoke, “A dog? Ah, I see… But, dogs have much sharper canines that would have cut deeper into the flesh. I’ve hunted an untold amount of wildlife in my time, and encountered nearly every species in the animal kingdom. And this bite mark doesn’t match any creature that comes to mind. It’s truly odd, isn’t it? The shape of the wounds nearly looks like it was formed by something… human.” 

He knows. He knows you were lying. You go completely still, allowing him to complete what he was doing. It felt like he was purposefully taking his time in wrapping the gauze securely, as if he were going slowly just to get some sort of reaction. What was his goal? Seeing his eyes on you as he finished the task was unnerving. Could he hear your rapidly increasing heart rate? Was he able to detect the growing alarm you felt? 

At your silence, he merely shrugs and finally lowers your hand. That cursed gaze travels away as he says in a near-whisper, “Marks such as those aren’t meant for the hand, they’d do nicely elsewhere though.” 

“What?” 

“Ah, forgive me, I haven’t apologized for my sudden earlier intrusion between yourself and His Majesty.” Was he seriously going to gloss over what he said as if it were nothing? Now he was back to his positive demeanor. Although his smile was different now, it seemed more harmless, that didn’t do much to place you at ease in the slightest. “It wasn’t my intention to barge in! But I will admit, while the sight was exquisite and it was the very picture of romance, I did feel a twinge of jealousy.” 

Did the huntsman like the king like that…? For a moment, your heartbeat steadied as you got a hold of your composure. Honestly, that moment with Vil is probably the first and last you’ll ever get to a romantic moment with a gorgeous person. “Oh, was it because of me?” 

You were about to put out a quick and simple apology, but you didn’t get a verbal response. No. Rook only smiled with mirth, his eyes glimmering with amusement appeared to narrow again as he crossed his arms. At his lack of a reply, you feel right on the edge once again, your heart rate picking up immediately again. 

“... You were jealous of the situation I was in with His Majesty, right…?” 

There was no response yet again. However, the bridge of his nose crinkled slightly as his shoulders shook with the quiet laughter that came out of him. Much like before, he doesn’t answer. Instead, he continues to speak as if this were nothing but mere pleasant conversation. “I must admit, it is always a joy to see you. I must have done something favorable by lady luck, because our paths continue to cross much more frequently. Ah, I’d like to share with you something I experienced. Just a few hours ago, I happened across writing and I could not help but be reminded of your being which remains shrouded in mystery. I believe it went something like…” Rook cleared his throat as he recited somewhat dramatically, “This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing. To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core. Ah, those fiery eyes of yours are exactly what I envisioned in my mind as I read those poem’s lines…! To finally be the one who those focused eyes lay upon––” “Are you done? I’m busy.” You interject, managing to keep an even tone and stoic expression, but it was difficult considering that you just could not relax around the huntsman. You did not forget how he didn’t answer the question about jealousy, which made you nervous as you imagined the possibility that maybe he wasn’t jealous of you with Vil. 

Not offended by the curt response, Rook only continued positively. Not only was his reaction, or rather lack of one, very slightly annoying, it was worrying. Most people would have been surprised and maybe even upset by the interruption, but he didn’t appear negatively affected in the slightest. You couldn’t predict his behavior, and that alone was cause for concern. “Forgive me, I’m simply thrilled to finally be holding a proper conversation with you! Normally by now you would have turned heel and walked away, which is why I currently think you are particularly bewitching these past few days. It’s as if the fog around you that you used to cloak your most private secrets and puzzling nature has passed but been replaced by a thicker cloud of fog. You’re an enigma. Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

In that moment you held your breath and you felt your blood run cold. Automatically your mind drifted to the weight of the sword on your back. It was heavy, heavier than his dagger and more useful at this proximity than his bow. However, pulling out a sword against him was counterproductive when he was a vital part of the catalyst that sparked the sequence of events that would eventually lead to the story’s ending. 

Considering your options, allowing the villains to live and perhaps even assisting them in the end would weigh in your favor. Afterall, you had yet to see any prince or princess for Neige, which meant things were already changing whether you liked it or not. Say a good ending was achieved where the pretty protagonist prince lived happily ever after. What would this get for you? It wouldn’t be the happy ending you knew in the fairytale if there was no royal on horseback to save Neige after he bites the poisoned apple. Should you somehow help him achieve a good ending, then what? Would he live with the seven dwarves in a cottage for the rest of his life or marry and inherit a crown? What could he offer you? On the other hand, Vil already had the crown, wealth, and power. These living conditions were quite nice when you didn’t have much to do, and if you ever felt threatened, running away with a bag stuffed with gold from the treasury would be easy. 

Perhaps being the beautiful king’s raven wasn’t so bad, all things considered. This was a hell you may be able to adjust to and accept as your punishment. 

“I like when people speak frankly, not in riddles.” You respond calmly, despite the racing of your heart. Responding was a risk, but ignoring his words wasn’t any safer. It made sense as to why he was a hunter, because at the moment you were cornered and he hadn’t so much as removed a single arrow from his quiver. 

Rook, again, only smiled ominously. It didn’t feel like he had malicious intent, but you still felt like you were in danger, you still felt threatened. He could, metaphorically speaking, pull the trigger at any second and you would be dead. As if he saw through you and knew all your secrets. All he was doing now was baiting you for another word, another sentence, another phrase, any slightest sound or action that was a slip-up leading to more information falling into the palm of his hands. Maybe that’s why he didn’t respond. Either that, or you were thinking way too deeply and the paranoia was starting to consume your mind. You wanted to believe it was the former and you weren’t quite insane yet. 

Finally, he chuckled, amused as he crossed his arms over his chest and peered at you with his forest green eyes. You could only imagine how terrifying he was when he was truly in his element, when he shed formalities and used the weapons strapped to him. “Your eyes speak a million words, and your actions paint a most curious story! Tell me, little raven, what words do you have for me?” 

Were you seriously participating unwillingly in this dangerous dance with the very man that served Vil? Rook was his huntsman, he was to hide no secrets from His Majesty and carry out his will. And it felt like Rook knew everything he wasn’t supposed to know.

It could have been the adrenaline and fear you felt in this current moment underneath the composed facade that formed the words in your head. Clutching your wrapped hand to your chest, you took a breath. You really were just like a wounded animal he was seconds from ensnaring. Although you wouldn’t hesitate to lash out. Ravens were known for plucking out eyes. The answer came too fast, “You won’t be able to do it. You can’t kill the prince.” 

Upon hearing your words, Rook appeared surprised, but it was only momentarily. Only a second or two of shock, before his bewilderment morphed into satisfaction. Like he had just won and caught the quarry. “Ah, how wonderful! So, you have decided to impart your knowledge upon me just as you have to Epel! I feel truly privileged!” 

You froze in place. You never once mentioned anything to Rook about what you knew from the story, and you trusted that Epel would keep his mouth shut. So how did he know? 

It’s like that piercing gaze of his could see directly into your mind, as if he could hear your very inner thoughts. As you remained stagnant in shock, waiting to see who would be the brave soul to make the first move, he spoke amicably, answering the question you never voiced. “Even the walls have ears. It is my duty to serve His Majesty in any way I can, so of course no whispers or rumors escape me.” Then, his smile turned sad and disappeared, that jovial tone diminished to a quiet whisper, “But, you are correct. I cannot do it.” 

You raised an eyebrow at his words, processing his confession. Seeing the huntsman with his head lowered toward you, was exactly like in storybook book pages that depicted a humble huntsman bowing before a princess to beg for forgiveness. It's possible that maybe the huntsman wasn’t evil, afterall, he would be the one to spare the innocent royal. Maybe he had a heart, a good one. But you didn’t. 

“Why? You can hunt animals and drag seven innocent people here to involuntarily compete for the crown. And you knew six of those seven were to die, didn’t you?” You crossed your own arms after making sure the black hood was securely over your head. 

Catching a glimpse of his somber frown, you knew his answer would remain unchanging. He did not have the guts to go forth and stain his hands red with the blood of an innocent prince. “I… I did not know they would perish. I truly thought they would be set free.” 

You sigh, contemplating your next actions. You truly didn’t want to harm Neige either, even if Vil despised him with all his heart, mind, and soul. However, the highest chances of you avoiding a terrible fate and achieving some sort of wonderful life, could only be accomplished if the Evil King received a good ending. That could only happen if the prince was dead, as Vil would only be deemed the fairest one of all once his rivals were vanquished. “Fine then, if you cannot do it, I’ll do it myself.” 

Rook, apparently temporarily shocked, was stunned by the resolve in your own words. He searched for any wavering determination before he tried to smile once more. For now he lowered his feathered hat to his chest as he spoke and stretched out an inviting hand, “Let’s not talk such dreary things. Please, there’s a lovely view at the top of the palace where you might perhaps tell me more about this story. I’m awfully curious, and it just might help me finally understand you better.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

It became clear after that fateful evening that Rook knew every happening that occurred in the palace and in the nearby town. There was no possible way to keep it secret, so you told him the basics such as that this was a story and he was a character within the tale, but you decided it best to tell him no more than that. It would be optimal to give him no upper hand at all. It was then promised that he wouldn’t share this information, and you made doubly sure to emphasize the fact that you would make certain that he received a bad ending if he were to betray your trust. However, the eccentric huntsman only laughed in amusement at your threat. What a weirdo. 

Well, at the very least, Rook was not the only one keeping tabs on happenings within the palace. That was what you had Epel for, he was useful in giving up information when it was needed. Even if he was formerly a peasant boy, he was no idiot. He never gave anything for free, it was a trade of knowledge which you didn’t entirely mind. There were lots of useless story details and scenes you could give up, such as the existence of the dwarves and the cottage in the woods. Besides, at the rate this story was shifting, those characters nor settings would no longer be necessary. 

But one day, Epel brought a very interesting account that could potentially change everything. 

Within the private training room where the king’s valued heir took fencing lessons, the door was abruptly slammed open, and there stood the said heir looking particularly ruffled. Manners tossed aside by how harshly he opened the door and flung it shut behind him, he ripped his cloak off his shoulders and chucked it aside as if it weren’t a carefully tailored cloth and instead a wash rag. Etiquette forgotten from his countless hours of learning it, he spoke naturally in his odd and difficult to understand dialect. “Vil’s pitchin’ a hissy fit with a tail on it! I was nearabout ready to come back, figured you’re way better than listening to all them uppity folk––” 

You stopped, lowering the new lighter and sharper sword you exchanged for the old one you carried on your back. He spoke so quickly and said so many words that went completely over your head, you had to give him a look as you interrupted his talking, “English, Felmier.” 

Freezing in his tracks, he groaned and repeated in a clearer, simpler manner, “Vil is mad. There. You happy?” 

“Then say so.” 

“I did!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. Epel continued, but thankfully not in his natural dialect. Although it was evident that he was still peeved about something. “There was some girl that showed up, a princess or something, and she asked for an audience with Vil! I happened to overhear, everyone was raving thinkin’ that it was just another princess asking for the king’s hand, but when she was talkin’ to Vil, she asked for Neige’s hand!” 

The prince. It was the prince, now princess, that was originally supposed to be the one that Prince Neige fell in love with. The arrival of the princess would certainly throw a wrench in the plan. Why had it taken her so long to show up when you had already believed that they would no longer be involved within the tale? 

The lavender-haired former farmer boy, paced back and forth in this wide training space. Usually he’d take an interest in the fencing equipment, it was one of the few lessons he actually enjoyed and took part in without so much stubborn complaints or begrudging behavior. But right now, he was far too troubled to even think about fencing. “When Vil summoned Neige to meet the princess, he turned her down! Said somethin’ about having feelings already for someone within the palace. Well, whoever it was, Vil must’ve known, because he nearly went haywire right then and there!” Stopping his steps, he turned to you and went on accusingly, “You know who it is, don’t you? Spit it out!” 

“It’s me…” This could not be happening–– You never were supposed to gain the affection of that pure-hearted prince! Now, Vil likely figured out who his step-brother had eyes for, and this would not bide well with his envious nature. 

Those big blue eyes of his widened in shock. “What?!” 

Neige had to be gone and fast. But how could one make a prince disappear? It wasn’t as if he could be done with and escape the consequences. The royal was beloved by the citizens far too much, should they learn that he was murdered, things would quickly become problematic. There could be no raising a blade against him. Unless… an accident of sorts was staged. 

Suddenly, you’re reminded of the image of a delicious red apple, a tool to the original plot that becomes the princess’ demise. Perhaps you didn’t have to stray too far from the plot after all. However, someone would have to take the blame once the deed was done. “Is the princess still here?” 

Confused by the inquiry but nodding in response, Epel looked even more baffled than before. “Yeah, but why do you care? What’s she got to do with this? Don’t tell me she’s somebody important.” 

If staying with Vil was the quickest and easiest route where a good ending for yourself was more certain, then you’d take it. No princess or prince would get in the way, and you would use Epel to help secure the ending. Even if some persuasion was needed, since you knew he didn’t have much of an appreciation for the current king. Lowering your blade on the table, you left it behind as you approached him, close enough to place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye. Close enough so he could hear the whisper that came from your lips, so quiet that not even a mouse in the walls could detect what was said, only he could hear these words. “We are going to assassinate Prince Neige.” 

Epel gazed at you with pure disbelief, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth open a gape in bewilderment. “But that’s Rook’s––” 

“Rook can’t be counted on.” You counter. At the moment, you were unsure if Rook could really go through and murder the prince with his own two hands. You’ve trusted him enough with your own secrets, but you certainly didn’t trust him with your fate.

The heir appeared to contemplate it. The atmosphere had turned somber, like he was seriously considering it. Not just anyone could stomach the knowledge, but he appeared to be processing it just fine. That is, until he suggested something that surprised even you. “Why not just, change the target to someone of higher power and just… you know.” He made a swift slicing motion over his neck. You knew exactly what he meant, and who he meant. “That way, we’d both be free.” 

“It’s not guaranteed to work. Killing a king would be more difficult than killing a prince that the king wants dead anyways.” You point out that simple fact. There were constantly guards around the king like worker bees following their queen. However, here on palace grounds, most avoided the prince as they knew interacting with him was a quick and easy way to make the king bitter. This made Neige vulnerable. 

A frown appeared on his lovely face, etched on like a pout. While his look may be an endearing one, his voice did not say the same. By his tone, he sounded unsure, maybe even a tad bit annoyed as he accused, “You forgot, I don’t give a damn about the crown! If that happened, it would mean that I’ll definitely end up taking Vil’s place one day.” 

“I didn’t forget.” You reply instantly, using logic to convince him that this was the best option available. “You forget how vain his majesty is. Vil will never give up the crown willingly. The only time he’ll give it up, is when he’s old and gray and on his deathbed. By then, you’d either be long gone on to freedom, or have figured out some other way to handle the matter in whatever way you want. As for me, I don’t care who’s king, as long as I get to live and be happy.” You could visibly see the gears turning in his head as he heard your words. You add more to pressure him further and make him see reason. “Like it or not, you’re involved. In whatever way this ends, just remember, the citizens of this kingdom will likely not be so kind to you if word ever reached them that you were the chosen heir of the king, a king that abused the precious prince. Even if you didn’t participate directly, the fact still stands that you’re connected to Vil. If Neige receives his happily ever after, everything may end alright, or it may not, but I can’t guarantee your safety in that case. That’s why I suggest getting rid of him now, and placing the blame on someone else.” 

“Someone else… They’ll never suspect us. This is insane, I mean, I don’t care for that guy but… me, you, us––” He slapped his hand over his mouth, moving it up towards his hair. The young man looked so stressed that he was about ready to pull out his lavender curls. And yet, there wasn’t really anger. Mild irritation maybe, but not anger, and something else was there. Something foreign to you. “I’d kill for you, you’d kill for me.” 

Ah, maybe. Maybe not. It depended on the situation, but he didn’t need to know that. Although it was reassuring to hear that he was most definitely an ally that would help to achieve your goal. 

His small hands remained on his scalp, tangled in his hair, gripping his own head as he raved, “Don’t tell me you’ve been learnin’ all that potions stuff from the king! It feels like I’m going crazy, havin’ these unnatural thoughts I never had before–– I’ve been imagining things. I want to get out of this dump, but I imagined runnin’ away with you, showing you my village, introducing you to my ma and everyone else back home! Then forgetting everyone else in this stupid place!” 

Those big blue eyes gazed right at you, scanning your face that he’s come to actually grow fond of. Out of everyone in this hell, he actually liked your company, craved it even. There’s no one else here on palace grounds that he would willingly talk to without grumbling about it. Even if it began with the original retainer, his trust grew with you, the imposter. 

“It’s all your damn fault…! But I’m not mad, I can’t be, even though I want to spit and punch you for this but at the same time I don’t wanna hurt you. Just, tell me right now, to my face. Tell me it’s stupid and I’m actin’ dumb so I quit it!” 

You nod, a bit stunned by the outburst. However, you had other plans in mind. “Keep it up.” 

By now maybe it was giving him false hope at an ending he dreamed of, but he was still useful to you. So for now, you ignored his look of shock and pink on his cheeks as you pried his hand off his head and he lowered his other hand to his side. 

The plan was simple really, it would be far too easy if you could actually manage to pull it off. “I’m telling you this, because you will have to help me guide the princess in the right direction. Talk to her, steer the conversation to romance. If she’s smart, she’ll ask you for advice assuming you know Neige. Suggest giving a gift. Once everything is over, then we can think about your hometown.” 

There was still shock on his face, as if he was still struggling a bit to process everything that was coming out of your mouth. It seemed like it was a lot, as one of his dainty hands held your hand tightly while his other hand gripped part of the cloth of his shirt, his knuckles turning white from the strength behind his grip. “I thought you were kinda cool. Not as annoying as Rook or Vil or anyone else, and I wanted to escape with you…! But this murder plan just makes it seem like you’re exactly like that old raven that you replaced, but for some stupid reason I still can’t not like you.”

“It will technically not be murder. In a way… It’s complicated.” 

There were apple trees at the very corner of the royal grounds. A basket of fruit would be a sweet and kind gesture with unsuspecting maliciousness intertwined. All that was needed was to take the apple that would be picked, poison it as the beautiful queen did in the original tale, and place it back in the basket that the princess would offer to the prince. Poisoning it as it was done in the fairytale, wouldn’t truly kill Niege. It would merely place him under a death like sleep, with the chance that he may one day wake up several years in the future long after we are gone. Because really, Neige didn’t truly deserve death. However, even if he was to never wake up, at least he would be in a dream and avoid a brutal end by his jealous step-brother. 

“But there’s only one person who can make the poison we need for this to succeed…” 

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The plan had to be enacted before Rook could take Neige to pick flowers. Luckily, or unluckily for you, a request for an audience with the king was not even needed. Before you could even search for him as you were rereading pages of the heavy tome in the undercroft, there was the creaking of the wooden door that signaled someone entering the dungeon beneath the palace. 

Hardly anyone else ventured down here, and by the clicking of heels against the stone floors, it became obvious of who it was. Your theories were only confirmed true when you felt a presence behind you, peering over your shoulder as the delightfully familiar voice that filled you with unease greeted kindly, “My dear retainer.” 

Instantly you felt your body stiff and rigid, feeling uncertain under his gaze. You were many things, but often fearful wasn’t one of them. This story was just filled with characters that made you tense, the king being the one that troubled you the most. Despite all this, you managed to remain polite, only turning your head to nod at him with respect. “Your Majesty. It’s a surprise to see you down here.” 

“I could say the same. Didn’t I specifically instruct you to stay aboveground for the time being?” It sounded like a scolding, but it was nowhere near as harsh as one. In fact, it sounded more like gentle chastising. Not at all like the harsh criticism and stern reprimanding he gave to anyone else. Not another word came about that before his amethyst eyes landed on the pages you were reading. “Poison apple. You weren’t by chance planning to assassinate me with that, were you? That’s not nearly enough poison to eliminate me. Haven’t you heard of mithridatism?” 

Mithridatism? Did he practice that? It’s a good thing that you ultimately did not choose the path of killing him, as he likely would have proven much more difficult than any other target. If you had attempted to take his life and it failed, you could only imagine how frightful the king would become in his rage at your betrayal. The mere thought made you shudder.

It wasn’t easy to focus when he was directly behind you, his chest practically against your back as he continued reading over your shoulder. “Not you… I was considering this for the prince. I believe that I’m the only one that can stomach handling this, not the huntsman.” 

“Interesting… and why did you choose the poison apple?” To think that the beautiful man that currently had his chin on your shoulder, would probably be an wretched old peddler with wrinkled skin and hair white as snow, if the story had stayed on course. It was plausible that the beautiful queen turning herself ugly just to kill her rival was an analogy of sorts for the hideousness of her personality. And yet, when the king who was based on that very character was in your presence, yes he was vile and cruel but he was rather fair to you. Especially when he expressed a sort of tenderness in his smile and looked down at you through his long lashes. 

“It’s a special sort of death.” Upon reading through most of the pages of the thick leather tome, you discovered that a huge majority of the deadly spells had antidotes and ways to be reversed. Many were easy to reverse, some were harder, but the most difficult antidote to receive was for those that ate the poisoned apple. It was no wonder the evil queen originally chose it, as it was only by chance that the prince awoke the princess with true love’s first kiss. “Not easy to find an antidote for.” 

“Hm…” His head continued to linger on your shoulder, his lips and part of his nose buried by the cloth on your shoulder as his watchful gaze remained stuck on you through his half-lidded eyes. At such a close proximity with his face literally inches from yours, you didn’t dare turn your head, but in your peripheral vision you could make out the black mascara and smokey light eyeshadow that accentuated his fine features. Even without the use of makeup, he was sure to be stunning. “As expected, you dally away precious time. However, there’s a princess…” 

“So I’ve heard.” Your response was careful, as this conversation was quickly approaching dangerous territory. From what was told to you by Epel, after the princess arrived, Vil summoned Neige to speak about it when the young oblivious prince admitted he loved someone within the palace. Vil knew who, you knew. As this conversation progressed, you would have to choose your words carefully. It would be like walking in a minefield. 

It started, you realized, as his fond gaze slowly shifted to something a little more cold. While you couldn’t see his mouth due to the position he was in, you guessed he wasn’t smiling lightly in content and intrigue like before. “Then I assume you know of the prince’s… let’s call it, an insignificant crush.” 

“Yes…” A crush may not be the term Neige would have preferred. The prince would have likely used flowery language akin to the type seen in romantic novels read in the middle ages. But you weren’t going to fret over the small details. Stoically you replied, “If you desire it done, I can be rid of both the prince and princess. An apple for the prince, and a jail cell for the princess.” 

Vil raised a carefully plucked blonde eyebrow, his careful vigilance turning to astonished curiousness as he connected the dots with the clues given by your words. He seemed to understand, and take delight in your response as he nodded against your shoulder. “This is why you’re my favorite.” 

Averting your gaze down to the parchment paper in the tome, you placed your palm against the surface and read off ingredients that were needed. None of which you understood. Not that you would even attempt making something so potent. In the middle of your reading, you felt arms snake around your waist, rendering you motionless as if being paralyzed by some other poison he could’ve used. 

By your ear you felt his warm breath, and his arms were surprisingly strong as he held you tightly, preventing you from going anywhere. The words he spoke in his feathery voice felt like they tickled the side of your neck and caused a shiver to go down your spine. Was it fear or was it pleasure? “… You could finally use those funeral preparations you made in advance.”

“True… This type of poison could be made with ease by me, it merely requires patience as the brew seeps through the simmering apple. It will take some hours. There are many different poisons, but one of this caliber that requires magic is most lethal. And yet, it looks so delicious. Entrancing and deadly, my favorite combination.” One of his hands roamed up to your neck, his well-manicured nails and soft fingers casually resting on your throat. There was this creeping feeling that he wasn’t talking about the poisoned apple anymore. Externally you remained cool and level-headed, but internally you felt your breath still in that moment as your heart picked up speed. And it was like he saw all these signs on you, reading you like an open book. “The breath will still, the heart will beat rapidly in those final moments…” 

You know he didn’t poison you, but it felt as if you were sick with something that was worse than poison. You shifted in place, keeping your breathing even. Never once have you prepared for a situation like this. Removing your hands from the tome, you lowered them over his knuckle, one of his own hands still around your waist like a belt. The intention was to attempt to pry off his hands, at least, that’s what you think you were trying to accomplish, but Vil took it as an invitation to continue. 

A hum like a purr came from him as he moved his head closer, so his lips were practically at the exposed flesh of your neck. And yet, he didn’t move. You remained as still as a statue, while he murmured in a quiet and confident tone that slowly morphed into something pleading and desperate. “Nevermore will you, my previous retainer, have to stray from me again. Once he is gone, everything will be made right. There will be none left worthy of your companionship, except for me. I will be your sole companion. So do not leave…” 

You felt a tremor throughout your body as he placed a lingering kiss against your neck, his soft lips by your jaw before he pulled away. Not even far enough so you could see his face, he only moved his head away an inch, as if even the thought of being physically apart right now was too much to bear. 

His arms around your torso tightened, and your back was pressed flush against his chest. His voice was low and intoxicating, this was dangerous. “For now, you’ll assist me in making the poisoned apple. While we wait a few hours for it to simmer and absorb the toxic qualities in the cauldron, we’ll be spending some… quality time together, my pet.”

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

The next morning, you awoke slowly, feeling groggy and tired, until everything came rushing back and you sat upright in alarm. You were in the familiar bedroom that once belonged to the retainer you replaced. However, there was a slight warmth on the other half of the mattress, as if someone had just been laying beside you and left not too long ago. 

On the wall as you sat up, you could see your reflection in the mirror, the messy bedhead and tired looking eyes, but also the slightest traces of red lipstick stains on your neck and across parts of your face. 

You had zero time to process what had happened before you spotted the shiny red apple on the counter with a small note beside it. The note simply read, For your mission. Wash your face once you wake up.

It took almost no time at all to get dressed and prepared, and wash your face. By now, Epel should already be speaking to the princess, advising her to attempt to appeal to the prince by picking fruit from the garden and gifting it to the royal she loved. Your task now was to simply add the poisoned apple when no one was looking. 

As you opened the door, you noticed a shadow and quickly hid the apple in a pocket of your long black cloak, just as familiar blonde locks and forest green eyes came into view. You closed the door behind you, as you were greeted by a welcoming smiling and that accented voice that bid good morning. 

“Ah, petit corbeau! What a fine day, isn’t it?” Immediately your gaze went to his expression and his hands, your ears keenly listening to his tone of voice. It didn’t appear as if he were hiding anything. There was no somberness to his voice, no frown on his face, and no red staining his hands. Although, the good killers always washed their hands clean of the evidence. 

For now, you don’t bother asking why he was outside of your room. Knowing Rook, he’d probably say some flattering words with an unsettling meaning hidden within his ornate speech. Right now, you would much rather not have to dwell on that for too long when a royal was to die soon. For now, all you do is remind him of your previous words towards him, “You couldn’t do it. So, knowing you somehow overheard what’s to happen today, is this your attempt to stop me?” You were quiet, making sure not to be overheard, only so he could hear your warning and see your cold gaze. “Know that if you try to stop me, that will be a form of treason against His Majesty.” 

That smile turned into a more bleak one, as he struggled to keep up the corners of his lips. He knew what was to happen, of course he did. It was as he said, he knew everything that transpired within the palace grounds. “Ah, I would love to see the raven ruffled up.” He joked lightly before adding in a more serious tone, “Ravens are most commonly associated with bringing the unfortunate news of a passing. As much as I dream of seeing you in your element, I just wish it wasn’t… him. I’d much rather it be me than him, even if being the victim was the only way to catch a glimpse into your true nature and to have your attention solely focused on me.” 

You leered at him, deciding not to take out your blade. Rook was a weirdo, but he most certainly wasn’t a killer. You couldn’t imagine him outright attacking you, even now as he knew that the beloved prince would die either way. “I’ll cut you down too if you get in my way.” 

Unexpectedly, Rook removed his hat and held it to his chest. He gazed at you like how an artist would admire the treasured painting of the beautiful Mona Lisa, as he bowed his head to you, exposing the back of his neck as his blonde hair shifted with his movement. “From you? I would consider it the greatest honor bestowed on me.” 

You merely moved around him, your cloak brushing past him. Even after Neige was dead, Rook would be cause for concern. But you would worry about him then, right now you had an apple in your cloak, a princess to frame, and a prince to assassinate. 

As it turned out, planting the ripe red apple at the top of the basket was the easiest part. It was simple, when the princess had left the basket of freshly picked fruits unattended. Perhaps the worst part was waiting. Waiting to hear when it would happen, when the prince would take that bite that would seal his fate. Part of you wondered if he might dream of you. Afterall, he seemed to have this idealized version of you in his head. So it was possible, but it’s not like you would ever know. 

For now, you appeared as you were told when you were later summoned by the king to the gardens where you emerged after exiting the undercroft on your first day here. Now, you were currently strolling through the private gardens of the palace grounds together, as if you hadn’t both planned murder. Any moment now, you expected a servant to come rushing, the palace would be overrun with commotion once the poisoned apple was consumed. If there were any remnants of the fruit left, you had instructed Epel to dispose of it in the midst of the chaos when no one would notice. 

But right now, it was quiet. A peaceful tranquil quiet, where you could look up at the sky and sun and feel its warmth. One where you were free. Even if you could never return home, perhaps living in this world was better. Should you ever need to, you could always escape the beautiful king. But this was a plan you would keep to yourself. 

Vil remained beside you, looking as elegant as ever with his robes and crown perched atop his skull. Like a peacock promenading in the yards of a private estate. There was one thing that confused you in this story. As angelic as Neige was, and as rotten as the king’s personality might have been, the mirror must’ve been blind if it insisted that Vil was not the fairest of them all. 

The King looked over at you, a pretty smile adorning his face when he saw your eyes on him, just as he liked it. Keeping his hands folded in front of him, the pair stopped beside the well. Since he had dismissed his guards to be alone with you, there was no one else to hear or see what went on between you and him. Those amethyst eyes were no longer so chilling but still more than enough to put you on the edge. “Tell me, my dear, how long were you planning to keep me in the dark?” 

You remained still, confused at his words. What was this about? He seemed content, but what did he mean by this? There was a sneaking suspicion and fear in the back of your mind, but you played it cool as you leaned on the well with your arms on the smooth rocky edge. “I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty.” 

A brief chuckle came from him as he reached over, his thumb rubbing against your cheek and his fingers grazing along your jaw. “You’re amusing.” Abruptly, faster than you can anticipate it, you felt a sharp edge against your throat, not piercing flesh but close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to avoid being cut. It was a knife. 

Your breath hitched. You made no sudden movements, no reaching for your own blade or trying to grab his wrist, because in a single instance he could end you now and that would be the end to your story. Everything you did to get here and set up a decent life, would be utterly useless if you were dead. Taking a deep breath, you purse your lips before holding up your hands to show you had nothing to strike back. “What are you doing, Your Majesty? After everything I did to assist you?” 

The knife was small, compact, decorated with small jewels as shiny as it was sharp. It was small enough to easily be hidden in his robes, but honed enough to easily end you here just as the judges intended for you to go out. “You were useful, but… when it’s just me and my retainer, my trusted retainer refers to me as Vil not Your Majesty.” 

You felt your blood run cold. He knew, this entire time? From the moment you encountered him, did he realize by your use of formalities, or did he figure it out sometime afterward? You’d been played. 

A knowing smile graced his lips once he took in your shock, one of the first clear expressions on your face in so long. Normally you were so composed, it felt like an accomplishment to break that poised demeanor, to see the horror dawn on your face as you were reminded of the judgment that had been cast, of the hell you were in that was veiled by gorgeous folk and the chance at a free life.

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and winced, anticipating the feeling of the blade running through your throat, there was a shriek. A shrill shriek from a woman, the sound sent a chill running down your spine and raised goosebumps on your skin. You anticipated the red spilling from your own neck, but there wasn’t a drop.

The knife was removed from your skin as Vil hummed, not really paying attention to the distant sound of servants scrambling to check on the source of the sound that must’ve come up from one of the upper floors of the palace. “It appears like it’s finally happened.” 

There was no need for further explanation to understand what he meant. The scream must’ve come from the princess who witnessed Prince Neige collapse after taking a bite of the apple. In seconds, guards of the palace will arrive at the crime scene, they’ll see the beloved prince trapped in a sleeping death on the ground and the princess beside him will be the only culprit. It’s done… And yet now, you now had to grapple with Vil knowing you were not who you pretended to be this entire time. 

“I didn’t know you were close.” The raven should’ve been apprehensive of the evil queen that tormented them. Were you wrong? Was their shared history different from the tale? 

“I lied. Please, I’m no imbecile. I think it’s a bit rude that you never properly introduced yourself, but I forgive you considering the unique circumstances.” Expertly he twirled the dagger between his long fingers, while he didn’t even have to focus on his hand to do so. The entire time he stared at you, a smile on his curved lips. “Did you think me a fool that I could be so easily tricked? I had known them for several years, but I must admit, I like you better.” His left arm was crossed over his torso, propping up the right arm that held the knife and casually pointed it at you. “All they did in recent years was hole themself up in the undercroft, but you, you’re plucky, brave, funny too.”

You felt partially numb. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–– Everything was going so perfect! Why did he have to know? Was it too late to escape? Could you try and run now that things were turning south, or was it worth staying? Judging by the look in the king’s eyes, staying was likely not the best idea. A caged raven was not a happy one. 

“If you’re honest to me, I’m honest to you. I only tricked you, because you foolishly believed yourself to be playing me this entire time, hm? Don’t mistake my intentions though, because I am fond of you. All those sweet words, whispered promises, and love I gave you was all real.” The tip of the dagger was against your chin, and the beautiful blonde king peered down at you through his lashes. Raising the fingers of his freehand, he lightly traced his sharp nails over the side of your face. The next words came in a quiet voice, stern and serious, vaguely threatening but also with the promise of sweetness. 

“However, I don’t appreciate the idea of you flying away. Fret not. You’ll be well taken care of, and loved more than any little prince with a crush could love you… You wanted him dead, isn’t that so? Well, we killed him. There is nothing more for you to be afraid of. So now, I want you to tell me about where you come from, why you wanted him dead, and what you wish for. No matter what you desire, I will see to it that you have it so long as you remain by my side permanently. Reintroduce yourself, from the top, my Darling Retainer.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #neige leblanche #twst neige #epel felmier #twst epel #yandere epel felmier #rook hunt #twst rook #yandere rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst vil #yandere vil schoenheit #Pomefiore #damnation twst au

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 20

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 11k

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tags: mastubation (m), strip tease, slight dub con??, handjob, overstimulation, humping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink (oops), oral (m) & (f), 69ing (OOPS), slight pain kink,

note: this is way later then it was supposed to be...anywayysssss enjoy !!! :)

“How does it feel to be somewhere so familiar, Princess?” Wheein asked as she dressed you for the afternoon. 

You hummed as you let her continue to style your hair, “Familiar, but…different now. I was a young girl when I used to roam these halls, but I’m a grown woman now. I'm excited to see my parents, I hope they’ll be attending dinner tonight.” 

“It’s only a matter of time now,” Wheein hummed out as she tenderly braided and pinned your hair the way she wanted it, “I don’t mean to pry m’lady but…” She let out a soft giggle, “I can’t help but ask if you and the Prince are now…? Embracing your marriage?”

You couldn’t help but tense, you had tried really hard to be quiet at night but there were definitely a few moments you had been unsuccessful, “Was I loud?” you whispered in horror.

This made Wheein laugh in surprise, “So you’re embracing one another very well?”

You felt your face become hot at the realization that clearly you hadn’t been, but now you had ratted yourself out, “Just pretend I didn’t say that.” 

Wheein let out a soft giggle, “I’m happy for you both…After everything you both have been through, you deserve happiness together, you both have had to overcome a lot of things. Take pride in your relationship.” 

You gave a small smile in the mirror, “I appreciate your words Wheein. But enough of that, how are you fairing? You’ve never traveled outside of Penumbra before, right?”

Wheein nodded, “This is my first time, I’m nervous truthfully, something about it feels so…Heretical, but exciting…? I hope to be able to explore a little bit in the week we stay here.” 

This made you happy to hear, “Kimhae is very beautiful, I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities to go into the capitol to explore.” 

Wheein grabbed the crown, onyx, the same you had worn to your formal dinner, it would be a constant here in Kimhae as a show of status along with your wedding ring that dawned your gloved hands. 

“Finished. You look beautiful.” Wheein smiled in satisfaction, “Is there anything else you would like before we escort you to dinner?” 

You shook your head, “Nothing, besides your company. I missed you terribly when you were away. And while I enjoy Jungkook’s presence, he is by no means good with feather and fuss the way you are.” 

This made Wheein chuckle, her nose scrunching in delight, “Nothing brings me more pride than being next to you both. I’ll let the others know you’re ready.” 

Jungkook had left the room a little while ago upon Yoongi requesting him outside the room to talk about something. 

Standing up you brushed the skirt of your dress of the few wrinkles that had formed from sitting. 

This was one of your favorite winter gowns, sheer gold fabric lining from your neckline to your chest, covered in precious gems and the fabric ran to your forearms but it was concealed by bigger dramatic puffy sleeves the same dark midnight blue color of your skirt. 

Stepping out of the room Jungkook and Yoongi had ceased their conversation at the sight of you, “I’m not interrupting am I?” 

“Of course not your Highness,” Yoongi bowed to you, “You’re just on time in fact.”

Jungkook sighed as he peered out the large windows to the darkened skies, “We’re late.” 

“All the best couples are.” You smiled as he offered his elbow out as you grabbed ahold of it, allowing him to lead you down the halls, navigating to the main hall where everyone would be celebrating, after all it was the Eve before Yule. 

“His Highness, Jeon Jungkook Crowned Prince of Penumbra and her Highness, Jeon Y/n Crowned Princess of Penumbra.” The caller announced as the doors opened. 

It seemed the jolly sight inside had frozen despite the music still playing, you couldn’t help but feel nervous with so many eyes on you, but squeezing the bicep of your husband made you realize you were not alone. 

His crown stood tall on his head, dawned in his finest black and gold silk robes for the occasion, he looked like the epitome of confidence and power, and as his wife, you wanted to be his mirror, a strength to him, not a weakness.

You straightened yourself a little, lifting your chin as you let him help you down each step, eyes following you everywhere as people began to whisper, but after having been on the cold gaze of the Penumbrian court, you had found you clearly had hardened yourself to the stares.

Not letting them bother you the way they may once have. 

And in the crowd, there were two familiar faces that you had missed so dearly, that did not look at you as if you were a killer, “Mother! Father!” You called out, excitement pushing away the previous feelings of uncertainty, having let go of Jungkook to greet your mother.

Her arms were wide open, eyes beaming with pride as you buried into her, the sweet smell of nectar dripping off her body, the warm comforting smell of home, “My sweet daughter,” She ushered out, pulling away as she grabbed your face, “My look how you’ve grown, she truly looks like a grown woman, no longer our little princess.”

“I couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely daughter to be our future queen of Penumbra,” Your father grinned softly as you mirrored him, immediately wrapping him in a hug next, “We’ve missed you greatly so our little sun.” 

You smiled at them adoringly only to feel the towering height behind you, standing at an awkward distance, turning around you gestured your love over, “Come Jungkook, don’t be a stranger.” You let out a soft endearing laugh, this only made him awkwardly shuffle a little closer.

Uncertain of where to look or how to greet, “Your Highnesses,” He gave a small formal bow. 

Your mother let a quirk of a pout tug on her lips, “No son-in-law of mine will greet me so formally, come.”

You and your father glanced at one another before sharing a laugh at Jungkook’s pupils widening a little before briefly glancing at you before he hesitated, arms acting stiff in the brief hug before immediately dropping back to his side. 

“Surely you’ve hugged this poor boy my dear,” Your mother sighed, watching with a certain pity on her face before turning to you, “He treats me as if I am something to be frightened of.” 

Jungkook’s lips parted but you spoke before him, “We’ve embraced plenty, Jungkook is an introvert by nature,” You couldn’t help the affectionate smile tug on your lips as you placed yourself back at his side, arms wrapping back around his, “He doesn’t fair well with social events.”

“I can hold my own.” Jungkook muttered with a puff of his chest. 

“Don’t let their teasing get to you,” Your father chuckled, “I’ve never been one for social events either, Esme has always been the butterfly of us both.” 

“Oh don’t flatter me.” Your mother rolled her eyes playfully, “Come, let us sit, you must try the wine.” You let your mother lead the way as you all sat down at the large table, your eyes searching the massive party only for them to suddenly lock onto Seokjin’s, halfway across the room.

He appeared sulky, empty wine glass in hand and in a circle of aristocrats talking and he clearly was not paying attention, his gaze set solely on you. You blinked, immediately looking away as you smiled at the cup bearer, pouring you a large glass of wine. 

Taking a long sip you hummed in delight, “Eunoian?” 

“Imported,” Your mother smiled with love, “Kimhae has always been too tart for my taste.” 

“Tart and a twinge of sour,” Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “They never let their wine ferment long enough.” 

This immediately had your mother’s attention, a fellow wine lover, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight as she immediately began to complain with him and as she got him talking, Jungkook slowly but surely relaxed as he began his second glass of wine. 

“Come, walk with me Y/n,” Your father smiled, shaking his head at the sight of the other two engrossed in gossip of Kimhae, who would’ve thought Jungkook would get on so well with your mother? 

The wine was certainly helping all the same. 

“I would love nothing more,” You smiled as you stood up, taking your father’s arm as you both began to walk, “How has Eunoia been? I’ve missed it terribly…” 

Your father gave you a soft smile, while you had always been undoubtedly close to your mother but… due to her dryad blood, she had always been harder on you as a child, making sure you stuck to your rigorous schedule.

There were many days when she was the source of your tears, but your father? He was nothing but soft for you, always sneaking you sweet treats at night and on the days you would weep, he would read you stories until you fell asleep. 

His love was always so soft, barely detectable but you could always feel it through the trepidations of your childhood. 

“We are doing well, with the protection Penumbra has given us, we’ve dealt with much less bandit raids, our crops no longer plucked over. Your presence has been an irreplaceable void though.” Your father hummed out, “The throne room hasn’t looked quite right since you left, Arielle never had the straightest cut.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t say that too loud- lest she hear it all the way from Eunoia and kill all the foliage off in spite…Is she…” You sighed, you supposed you shouldn’t indulge the gossiping part of your brain, it was only a childhood rivalry, you were a grown woman now, those things should stay in the past. 

Your father however seemed to know exactly what you were saying, “There is talk,” He mused, “She does not have dryad blood though.”

“Perhaps that is for the best,” You murmured softly, your father peering at you in curiosity as you spoke softly, “Perhap it is time for Eunoia to leave our lesser human nature in the past?”

Your father hummed, “What has you thinking such thoughts, my little sun?” 

“...My stay in Penumbra has not been an easy one, I won’t deny it,” You murmured quietly, “I’ve suffered many trials and tribulations, the dryad inside me has proven to be very hard to contain…”

This made your father laugh, surprisingly, “So was your mother’s, her nature still can be from time to time.” 

“I just don’t understand, even after all these years. We strive for peace and yet all I want is war,” You frowned, troubled once more, “I want nothing more than to wrong those who have wronged me. And I hate it, revenge has a bitter taste.” 

“It’s an inherent nature,” Your father replied, tapping your arm comfortingly, “It’s inside all of us, you are inclined moreso from the polarized nature of a dryad. The beautiful thing about it is that we cannot have life without death. Your mother was never the best at explaining it,”

He sighed wistfully, as if accepting this about his wife, “But it always seemed to me that as a dryad, your duty is to balance it, not strive for one or the other. The giver and taker of life, it may run through your blood but you are not a god Y/n, it is not your calling to be one or the other. But I’ve always seen great things in you. I’ve always felt you’ve been called to mediate the conflict of the giver and taker, give life where it is needed, death when it is warranted. These things are scary when we’ve been taught only one is right, but it is not impossible.”

Dead eyes flashed in your mind, your grip on your father’s arm tightening a little as you took a long breath, “Then why is it I always seem to only bring death?” 

Your father frowned, a sad look in his eyes, “You were but a child Y/n, too young to be put in the tents, but your mother was insistent. Death is the only thing guaranteed in life, we must all face it eventually, some sooner than others. This is the way it is meant to be, you did the best with what you were taught.”

You stared at the ground before you murmured, “And…what if…I broke my vow…? What if I had taken a life on purpose?” 

Your father paused, slowly his eyes lingered on your figure, your expression was full of sorrow and lament, he tenderly brushed your shoulders, “My words would remain the same, you were never meant to uphold one value or the other. I trust you would never do something rash, if it were not called for.”

You both began to walk once more and for a long moment you thought of his words before you were plagued by a forgotten thought, “I’ve heard….stirrings, rumors.” 

“In the beast itself?” Your father laughed, “Do tell.”

“Rumors that…” You lowered your voice, “Eunoia is building an army…?” 

Your father paused in somewhat surprise, “Really now?” He paused thoughtfully, “Well, I suppose it would seem that way.” 

“But it isn’t?” You raised your brows hoping that it certainly was not what it seemed. 

“Did you know that the dryad’s were not just healers?” Your father gave you a knowing smile, “But they were also warriors, it was said they were gifted with the sight of knowing, shooting arrows that could hit even targets from miles away. We have decided to take up the divine dryad’s way of Archery- a form of weaponry, in honor of Penumbra for the Rite of Peace.” 

You paused…archery…? Everything made so much more sense suddenly, and it dawned on you that while you knew much about Eunoia, you still had so much more to learn about your ancestors. 

“I…I love that Eunoia has decided to pick this back up in honor of Penumbra,” You gave a small smile, somewhat relieved, “Jungkook will be thrilled to hear this.” 

“Ah…” Your father hummed, “And I do assume your husband has been treating you well?”

Your nod became somewhat shy, “We didn’t speak the first month but…well circumstances arose that no longer allowed us to hate one another…And somehow, we…began to understand one another? Misunderstandings truly are the root of hate aren’t they?” 

“Hate makes all of us blind to the reality of life, nothing is fair, nobody is ever truly free, we all have our burdens and trepidations to bear, not one better than the other. When we embrace intentional kinship, to set aside our differences, and truly learn from one another with compassion and understanding, we are at our strongest…”

Your father hummed before he looked at you for a long moment, “Though it has not been long, you seem older now…Wiser, patient…You both suit one another very well.” Your father praised. 

“I would’ve hated those words once upon a time but…” You gave a satisfied hum, “You are right, I couldn’t think of another person I’d want as my husband.” 

The evening went on, you and your father had many people come and socialize with you both, many royals and aristocrats alike wanting to know about Penumbra, about the Wicked Prince, about the tall tales that came from its lands. 

You indulged none, and left everything vague, giving only knowing smiles and cryptic words, after all knowledge was a currency of its own for royals. 

It was well past midnight by the time you and your father had arrived back at the banquet table to find your partners well past the point of sobriety, your mother and Jungkook sharing a loud boisterous laugh as he cackled, “I wish you had seen it, the sword went flying out of his hand and the look on his face was that of a child.”

“Oh come now Jungkook he can barely hold a cup with two hands let alone a sword!” Your mother cackled out, near empty cup in hand. 

“It seems we’ve made our timely arrival,” Your father let out a soft sigh as he shook his head, “Come now Esme, let us not insult our host’s family too loud,” He pulled her chair out offering an arm to her, “We ought get you to bed.” 

“I agree,” You replied, standing next to your husband’s chair where he was slightly slumped, crown crooked on his head, “We should retire, my love.” You leaned down, fixing his crown back straight. 

His hand caught yours as he pressed an amorous kiss against the palm of your gloved hand and a silly little smirk on his face, “If that’s what my goddess wishes.” 

You felt your face becoming hot at his words, clearly the liquor making him much more boldly flirtatious then he would typically be in a public space. 

Jungkook stood up only to wobble a little, you immediately grabbed his arm, not offering as much support as you wished, but you only needed to get him as far as Yoongi, who was coolly leaning back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room. 

You waved Yoongi over, his eyes immediately catching your figure as he pushed off the wall, “Can you please get Jungkook back to our room?” You asked.

“Of course, Wheein will escort you back then I presume?” Yoongi asked and you nodded, with that he took your husband back though not without complaint of you not being by his side. 

You only smiled briefly only for your vision to be blocked by your mother, grabbing you with an adoring look on her face, very clearly drunk, “While I had my reservations about him, you both make a lovely couple Y/n,” You giggled softly at this as she continued, “And hopefully you’ll make even lovelier grandchildren for me.” 

“Grand children!?” You nearly choked on your words.

Grandchildren…? 

“Now, now Esme, leave her be, that is their business,” Your father tutted, “Goodnight Y/n, we shall see you in the morning…Or at the very least I will see you in the morning.” 

You waved goodbye but your mind was fried at her words…children…You…you hadn’t even thought of children, which was incredibly stupid given the amount of unholy sex you were currently having, with absolutely no regard of how many times your husband emptied himself inside you. 

Your hand ghosted over your stomach as you wondered, what if you were pregnant? It was a brief thought with no actual evidence to back it up. 

But the idea of blue eyed, dark haired children running around suddenly filled your heart with so much joy, you could hardly continue the girlish smile you had, children…Surely Jungkook wanted children, right? 

You pressed your lips together in uncertainty, being the heir to the throne meant it was an expectation but…You didn’t want to bear his children if he wouldn’t share the love he had with you to them. 

It was late and you supposed these were conversations you would need to have at a later date with him, sooner than later given just how fast you both had been going. 

You called Wheein over as you both exited the party.

The hallways were dark and you had just reached the end when a voice called out, “Y/n…” 

Wheein frowned as you both paused, turning around as you noticed the lone figure at the other end of the hall, Seokjin…Wheein briefly looked at you with a quirked brow. 

“Seokjin, my apologies for not greeting you at the party, I was catching up with my parents.” You called out as he approached you.

“Nevermind that,” He offered an easy, charming smile, “I know how much you’ve missed them, but…I’d like to speak to you, alone…”

Wheein shifted immediately, not liking this one bit as she stared at the foreigner, briefly looking at you once more, and you could tell she didn’t like this, “It’s late Seokjin, I was just getting ready to retire for bed…”

“Indulge me, just for a moment.” Seokjin asked, holding a hand out to you. 

You stared down at his palm, and for the first time you noticed the lack of calluses on his hands, his skin incredibly soft, “...Very well, where would you have us speak?”

“Just up ahead, in my office, your maid may go I will-”

“My maid will stay just outside the office,” You cut him off, Wheein giving a curt nod at your words, “Lead along, I do not have all night.” 

Seokjin frowned, eyes lingering warily on Wheein just as her’s did, almost as if sizing one another up before he walked ahead of you both and turned off onto a hall before he stopped, it was vague but you did remember being in his office a few times. 

He stepped inside as Wheein whispered out, “Will you be okay m’lady?” 

“I’ll scream if I’m not.” You gave her a reassuring smile before you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. 

It all came at once, the sudden feeling of invading your personal space, his body pressing into yours and his hands wrapping around you, “Oh my love,” He whispered out, “You’ve become a marvelous actress, but you should be taking my lead to not make things more difficult for us.” 

Your body immediately tensed, these were not the arms you were used to being wrapped around you, and these were not the lips of your husband against your ear.

Seokjin pressed his forehead into yours just as swiftly as you were pushing him away, “I am no actress, what is the meaning of this Seokjin?” 

Seokjin’s lips slowly curled into a frown at the evident step you took away from him, a safe distance between you both clearly feeling like a rift for him, “I’m here for you.” He spoke quietly, “Albeit he wasn’t supposed to be here but we can make this work, some plans will simply have to be altered.” 

You blinked several times, “Plans…?” 

Seokjin nodded, a smile slowly curling on his lips once more as he took your hands into his, “We can talk more about it later, but just know that we will be reunited once more Y/n, it’s been sickening…watching the way he drags you around as if you are nothing more then some doll, his hands touching what is not his.” 

Your stare hardened as you slowly shook your head before letting out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Seokjin, it seems I was not clear last time we spoke.” Though you felt as if you distinctly remember being perfectly clear, “We are no longer an item, we have not been since the day before my wedding.” 

Seokjin shook his head, as if he was in denial, “I have been biding my time for you my love, the days I’ve ached for you, touched myself to you. You can’t seriously tell me you have not yet felt the same?” 

He was staring at you expectantly but you were at a loss for words, because while yes a part of you had mourned him the first few weeks of your stay, but after a month Jungkook had become a bigger part of your thoughts with each day, and Seokjin becoming so obscure that you no longer even thought of him unless it was prompted in conversation. 

“I’m sorry Seokjin,” It was a genuine apology, “But I cut ties for a reason, I’ve only come to Yule to see my parents and nothing more. I do want you to rest easy…I am very happy in Penumbra, and Jungkook does not treat me like a doll he…” You stared at your gloved hands, “Jungkook loves and respects me for who I am, what I am capable of. And his hands touch me as if I am his, because I am. There is no other man I want to belong to.”

Seokjin slowly shook his head and it made you wince a little. He was taking this harder than you had assumed he would, perhaps because you had assumed your relational ties had been officially cut. 

You assumed there might have been a forlorn sort of pining from him, mourning what could have been, but to have this delusion that you both were still romantic lovers was an entirely different subject. 

“You don’t mean it Y/n,” He took a step closer to you, hand grabbing your waist making you jolt, “I don’t know what they’ve done to you, but you’ve been brainwashed. Turned blind to their hedonistic ways. You are not the Dryad Princess I know.”

“If they are heathens,” You shoved his hand away from you, “Then I’m afraid I was never going to be good enough for you, for if they are heathens then I cannot imagine what I must be in comparison. I am far more than a Dryad Princess, you say you no longer know me, but it only shows me just how little you actually knew me. I value the time we had together Seokjin, but I love Jungkook. He is my husband and I am proud to be his wife and it will remain this way. Goodnight.” 

You promptly closed the door behind you as Wheein straightened up from her fretting state, you gave her a tense but attempted comforting smile, “Come let us go Wheein.” You ushered softly as she nodded. 

After a long quiet trip through the halls she finally asked, “It’s not my business but I can’t help but ask m’lady…what was that about?”

You shook your head, “Some things must die slower than others I suppose.” You stopped at your door just where Taehyun walked out from exasperatedly. 

“His Majesty is still awake, just a forewarning.” Was all Taehyun said and that was all you needed to know.

“You both are dismissed, I doubt we’ll need any help tonight. And do take the early morning to yourselves, Jungkook will definitely need to rest until mid morning.” You offered a weak smile as they both nodded, perhaps knowing but saving you the embarrassment.

After taking their leave you stepped into your room, lit only by firelight as you quietly shut the door, “So my pretty wife finally shows her presence.” Jungkook was leaning against the bed frame, slumped once more, terribly drunk. 

You offered a gentle smile, the tension that had been in your body slowly melting due to his warm presence you had become so familiar with, “So I am here; I did not mean to make you wait so long.” You were in no rush to the bed as you slowly walked over to your vanity, pulling the gloves from your hands and taking the shoes off your feet.

Setting your crown on top of the empty pillow and taking off your jewelry as you felt his eyes burning into your back before you finally approached him.

“What held you up?” Jungkook’s eyes lazily dragged over your body, sitting on the side of the bed as his feet planted on the ground, hands reaching out for your waist, “You were supposed to help bring me back.” 

Your smile became just a little shy as your hands settled on top of his, the warm comfort it brought such a stark contrast to what Seokjin had attempted to replicate, “I got caught up, but I’m here now. Help me?” 

You turned around as Jungkook stood up, a little wobbly and maybe not the best with his fingers at the moment but he managed to get your dress undone as it fell to the ground, you still had your slip on underneath, it wasn’t meant for sleeping but it was comfortable enough that it would do. 

You plucked the dress from the ground before tossing it, the fabric catching on the chair at your vanity before you turned around to face him once more.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you at the dilation in his eyes, his tongue swiping over his lip feverishly, “Was it him?” 

Your brows lifted a little in somewhat surprise and that gave him everything he needed to know, his jaw clenching a little as his hands tightened down to your hips, “Saw the way he was looking at you, as if you belong to him.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you whispered, “But I am yours. You shouldn’t worry about him.” Tomorrow, you would tell him what had happened, but tonight, you wanted to rest with your husband and let him sleep off his liquor. 

Jungkook’s nose buried into the crook of your neck before his lips began to press into your skin, and you were quickly beginning to realize this was a telltale sign, his hands roaming your sides before curling around the material of your slip. 

“Lay down,” You whispered, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m sober enough,” Jungkook replied with a moan into your skin, “Indulge me, light of my life, you say you’re mine, but I need you to show me. Need you wrapped around my cock.” 

His moans against your skin was tantalizingly difficult to say no when he laid back against the bed, pulling his pants down to reveal his fat cock bobbing to his abdominal as he wrapped his hand around it tight, eyes staring at you with a lazy heat as he slowly began to stroke his shaft. 

You couldn’t stop the pout on your lips as your arousal immediately pressed into your panties, “You’re drunk Jungkook…” 

“Mmm, I can be drunk and have my cock rode.” He replied, his hips stuttering a little as they lifted into his fist, his cock squeezing through as he moaned, “Do you not see how desperate I am for you? Don’t deny me now.”

Precum was beading against his slit as you slowly pushed your slip up, letting your panties drop as he moaned his hand pumping his cock all the way up to his bulbous head before squeezing it all the way back down, “Fuuck, that’s a good girl, show me those pretty tits.” 

Slowly you peeled the slip up your body, one inch at a time as Jungkook’s hand eagerly worked his cock, eyes lidded as he moaned, watching the fabric tease just below your bust, ‘Don’t tease me now.” 

You pulled it up, your tits bouncing as he swore, fist pumping his cock furiously as you pushed it over your head before letting it hit the ground, “Nee’ you Y/n, mmm, need your warm cunt.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how whiney he was at the moment, getting up on the bed you straddling his thighs as he moaned his hand slowing down to lethargically stroke his cock, eyes trailing up and down your exposed body.

Leaning down a little you couldn’t help but curiously wrap your hand around his base, his stroking paused as he released his own grip, “Mmm, stroke it.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a little shy, it was so thick and heavy in your hand, “How do you like it?” You whispered out, trying not to let yourself be intimidated. 

Jungkook reached back down, his hand wrapping over your own, grip suddenly being crushed much more than you would’ve expected, “Hard, like when it hurts.” His thighs tensed as he guided your hand up his shaft, roughly pumping back down to his base as he hissed out. 

You mimicked his movements, letting your hand jerk up his cock as he guided it back down each time forcefully, you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way his cock moved with each stroke, his fat head slowly beginning to turn red, as if angry to not have it’s release.

“Mmm stick your tongue out,” He mumbled, “Want to watch your spit drip on it.”

“Jungkook..” You ushered in embarrassment.

He smiled wickedly, “Would you rather suck it instead?”

“If you had chosen to stay sober,” You teased right back, taking a long breath you appeased him though, sticking your tongue out as salvia slowly gathered at the tip of your tongue before a large glob slowly hit the fat head of his cock. 

Jungkook jolted and stiffened beneath you, a deep moan escaping him at such a lewd sight as your hand wrapped around his tip, dragging the fluid down his cock making it more pliable, he could hardly stand it as your hand squeezed harder around him. 

“Fuck yeah, like that, nice and hard.” He moaned in pleasure, eyes lidded and watching your hand with each rough stroke, “Mm little harder- shit…!” He moaned even louder as his eyes closed briefly, your hand squeezing nice and hard around his base as you began forcefully pumping his cock just the way he enjoyed it. 

His thighs kept tensing beneath you and you could feel your arousal drip on his thigh as you slowly shifted slotting your own thighs beneath his thick taunt one as your hips couldn’t resist but to wiggle, your wet puff slit dragging open along the warm skin of his thigh.

“Mm that's it, good girl,” He moaned deep, eyes locked between your little cunt making a mess all over his thigh and your hand, working his cock nice and rough, “Rub your little clit on my thigh.” 

You let out a little whine at your clit sliding against his skin, pleasure frictioning against the open plane as your grip on his cock tightened, hand fisting all the way to the head of his cock as you roughly pumped his head, as if trying to squeeze the cum right out. 

Jungkook’s moans were salacious and wonton, not holding back in the least as his hips suddenly thrust upward into your hand, his thigh rutting into your cunt as you let out a small breathy moan, enjoying the mess your cunt was making. 

You spit once more on his cock making it slide with ease once more, “Mm just like that, fuck Y/n, yeah, mm gonna’ cum.” 

Jungkook’s hips were impatiently thrusting upward as your hand forcefully pumped his cock, his thigh continually rutting up against your clit just the right way as you let out whiny moans, “Cum for me, please, that’s it, cum.” 

Jungkook was pliable at your voice, whining and begging softly as your hand tightened around his cock once more, the sight of you bending slightly, your tits bouncing and your tongue sticking out, only this time his fat head aimed at your mouth. 

It was such a lewd sight, Jungkook cursed loudly, your hand roughly stroking his cock as the pleasure became blinding, the sight too tempting as he grunted out a deep moan, cumming hard as he kept his eyes wide open for the spectacle, spurts of white cream shot from out from his slit, hitting your tongue, “Fuck, oh my god, yeah, suck it, please, fuuck, suck it up.”

You appeased him, your lips tenderly around his head before sucking it harshly as he cried out another deep moan, eyes unable to pry away from the sight, one arm forcing his hips down to keep from rutting into your mouth as your other hand forcefully pumped his cock of every last drop of seed. 

Your lips stayed wrapped around his fat head as you felt more substance dribble out from his weepy sensitive head. 

Your hand pumping every last drop he had to offer as his thighs violently twitched with each stroke of your hair, his moans were loud and obscene as he growled, “Keep going fuck, can take it.”

That deep dominant voice had you pliant, obediently swirling your tongue around his slit, cum slowly leaking back down his cock as you stroked it.

You could tell he was overstimulated just by how violently his body was twitching but just as you kept going his cock slowly started to harden once more, pulling off his head as you swallowed the rest of the substance, a subtle sweetness in it otherwise tasteless. 

Jungkook moaned, his hyper sensitive cock resting back against his abdomen, “Wanna cum in that pretty little cunt now.” 

You couldn’t help but feel somewhat shy, “Are you sure?” 

Jungkook moaned softly as his hands wrapped around your hips as you shifted yourself, “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing satisfies me more than watching my cum drip from this little hole.”

You shuddered as you grabbed his cock, watching the way he sucked a harsh breath in, teasing his weeping cum covered head against your slit before slowly sinking down on it.

The stinging sensation was absent, only the feeling of his fat cock sliding inside you with ease as you both moaned, “…Even if I become with child..?” You whispered out.

Jungkook’s hands suddenly gripped your hips even tighter, eyes lifting with a wicked smirk on his face, “Why do you think I've emptied inside you every time? Mm is that what you want? My seed nice and deep inside this cunt until your belly becomes swollen? Filled with my child?”

Your cunt harshly wrapped around his cock, you hadn’t expected your body to react so harshly to his words but it was making your clit throb in excitement, the idea of becoming pregnant with Jungkook’s child.

Your hips were immediately bouncing, your cunt greedily sucking his cock deeper inside as your walls clenched around him, soft whines escaping you, “Mm! Please…!”

Jungkook moaned softly, “So I’ve found your weakness,” he cracked a boyish smile, “You want to be my little cumdump? Milking my cock of every drop of cum until you're pregnant with my baby?” 

Your thighs were trembling at the idea, the anticipation of his cum spurting deep inside you, the excitement made pleasure bloom through your body as his shaft began rubbing right where you wanted it, “Please…! I’d be good!” You whimper, “I’d take care of our baby…”

Jungkook moaned hands encouraging your hips, roughly bouncing as his big cock forced his way past your little walls, “Mm know you would, have’ the prettiest belly. Prettiest tits…”

Your whines and moans were like music to Jungkook’s ears as you frantically bounced on his cock in need, his hands soothing your hips as you moaned, “Wan’ baby please…! Koo’…!”

“Mm that’s it my love,” Jungkook moaned as your hips became flush with his, feeling your walls wrap around him as came once more, cum burying deep inside you as the loudest, whiniest moan escaped you, cumming all over his cock as you bounced once more, milking every drop from his cock once more as it buried inside you.

Every muscle in your body was tensed as your breath labored, fists curled against Jungkook’s chest before he grabbed them, tenderly uncurling them as he laced his own bigger ones in yours, “So you want my children hm…?” 

You slowly opened your eyes, tiredness running in your body as you let out a soft, somewhat shy giggle, “Do you want me to have your children?” 

“Is my cock inside?” 

“Stop…!” You whispered out, falling against his chest as he chuckled, arms wrapping around you, his cock softening as it slipped out of your body, the warm sensation of liquid dripping down your thighs as you curled up against him. 

Jungkook’s eyes fluttered shut as he hummed, fingers tracing over your sides, “There’s no one else I’d rather have children with.” 

Jungkook had slept heavily through most of the early morning like you had assumed, he did wake up once, stirring a little at the feeling of your tit cupped in his hand, he only gave it a nice hard squeeze before falling back asleep. 

The light had begun to shine through and you could tell the halls were busy with maids, your personal servants wouldn’t be in for another hour and a half at least though, and somehow, you thoroughly enjoyed being able to lay with your husband like this. 

Far past any reasonable hour to get out of bed. 

“Will you survive my love?” You whispered out a small giggle as your hand reached out, brushing back those long dark bangs from his forehead. 

He groaned, eyes still closed but you knew he was awake, “It feels like I am an anvil and my headache is a smith master. You never told me your mother could hold her liquor better than you.” 

You smiled fondly as you laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms, “They say dryad blood makes alcohol less potent.”

Jungkook’s eyes shot open, a comedic glare on his face, “I see you’ve chosen to keep that information to yourself.” 

“I never thought it was relevant,” You laughed softly, trying not to be loud for the sake of his poor head, “It’s probably why I can drink more than you.”

“And yet you never seem to utilize this ability, you should take after your mother more,” Jungkook groaned as he pulled his arms over his head, eyes squeezed shut once more, “So you’re ready to have my children hm?”

You tried not to choke on your own spit at such a drastic conversation change, “I…” 

Jungkook’s lips slowly pulled into a smile, eyes lidded once more as he stared at you, “What got this on your brain?” 

Your lips parted multiple times, trying your hardest to not let yourself become shy, but it was difficult under his gaze, “...My mother- very drunkenly told me she hoped for grandchildren soon last night after you departed with Yoongi.” 

“Hm yes I do recall her mentioning this to me as well,” Jungkook laughed softly at the expression on your face, “Telling me we would make the prettiest children and that if I wasn’t treating you well she’d personally castrate me- I also see where you get your temper from.” 

You weakly smiled, you wanted to say your mother would never say that sober- but you knew good and well you got her temper in a much higher dose then even she had. 

“She was one of my teachers,” You replied, “...Is it…you don’t think we’re going too fast?” 

Jungkook rolled onto his side, “What do you mean?” 

“Having children?” You raised your brows, “I…I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but with how we’ve been…It may be a good possibility.” 

“We’ve been married for almost a year now,” Jungkook mused, “True half of it hasn’t been on good terms but the court…” He sighed, “I hadn’t wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel pressured but…The Penumbra court has started questioning me on when they can expect an heir.” 

Your lips slowly curled into a frown, “I’m not surprised…” Because regardless of how either one of you felt about this, there was a duty to uphold, “Is that why…?”

“No,” Jungkook immediately cut you off, head resting against the pillow as his hand reached out, tracing your jawline, “Our moments have been organic and I had no hidden agenda behind them, but I won’t deny that I’ve emptied inside you continually because I am intentionally trying to get you pregnant- for the sole reason of wanting to have a child together. Not because the court expects me too...” 

Your stomach felt like butterflies had formed, something like arousal stirring in your body at his choice of words, “You’ve been trying to get me pregnant without telling me?” It wasn’t meant as a reprimand but more of a soft tease. 

Jungkook let out something between a laugh and a scoff, a boyish look on his face, “Figured’ the action spoke more for itself I guess. Nothing screams "I want to get you pregnant” like burying my cum inside you.” 

“Jungkook…!” You whispered out. 

Jungkook laughed harder before wincing, hands grabbing his head as he groaned, “This horrible, ugh Eunoian wine always gives me the worst headaches. Seems you and the wine have something in common.” 

You clacked your tongue, “And here I thought I was going to be nice this morning and give what you had requested the night before.” 

Jungkooks eyes blinked back open, curiosity brimming as he squinted, “What does that mean?”

“You only get to find out if you take back the headache comparison.” 

“It may give me a headache but it’s just as sweet as your cunt- Ow!” 

You had immediately straddled him, taking your pillow with you as you hit him on the head with it as he grabbed it, tossing it aside before his hands snaked around your asscheeks, “There it cancels out, now continue.” 

You could feel the pang of arousal in your cunt as you situated yourself, leaning forward a little as you smiled, “You’ve been rather mean to me this morning, are you sure you’re worthy of it?” 

“You like it when I’m mean,” Jungkook flirted back, fingers digging into your ass, multiple bruises had already stained your skin in the form of his fingers, and it looked right now would be stained on your skin later as well, “I could be even meaner- After all, you let Yoongi take me back and then that rat got his hands on you.” 

You raised your brows with an amused smile, “I assure you no rat had his hands on me for more than a moment.”

You could see it in his eyes, something dark stirring as his jaw clenched a little, a possessive tone in his voice, “A moment is still too long- what did he want?” 

Your hand traced down his chest as you replied, “It seems I was not clear enough when I ended our relationship right before you and I wedded. Seokjin had this idea that we were still lovers.”

“And?”

His fingers dug even harder, nails starting to dig into your skin, not overly painful but just enough for your cunt to feel it, “And I told him I belong to you, and that there was nothing left.” 

Jungkook huffed, fingers relaxing a little, “Couldn’t stand the way he looked at you last night, acting like he had any right to stare at you like that.” 

You laughed softly at his broody look, “Well trust me, Seokjin isn’t getting to experience what you are.” 

Your lips pressed against his clavicle, Jungkook’s lips parted to make a remark but they paused as you lifted yourself a little, kisses fluttering down his chest as the bed cover was slowly pushed back, his naked body revealed and his cock hard and proud. 

It was difficult to not be aroused when he knew you were naked in his bed, but the sight was even more to behold as your tongue softly pressed against his abdominal, his sucked in a harsh breath of air as the soft wet muscle slid towards his pubic bone. 

You planted another kiss against his pubic bone before pressing your tongue back against his warm skin, sliding it down to meet the base of his cock, his hips physically thrusting in need as you let out a shy laugh. 

Jungkook had done nothing but give you pleasure from the moment he declared his love, you wanted to show him the same, how much you wanted him, needed him, how he would never need to worry about another man. 

You only wanted to be his, it was difficult to not let yourself become shy though- yes you had a little experience with this, but it was different, back then you did it as a means to keep things from going further. 

You wanted to do this now, but your husband was not what you considered beginner friendly, it felt like a weapon was staring at you.

Jungkook couldn’t resist the soft moan at the sight of you looking up at him, those pretty doe-like eyes all flustered just inches away from his cock, so confident one moment and shy the next.

Jungkook let out an amused scoff, his hand tenderly pressed against your head as he stroked it, “You’ve sucked cock before, go on.” 

It was a lighthearted tease that made your lips quiver into a pout, “Jungkook...I…I want you to show me what you like…” You mumbled, unable to look at him whilst saying it. 

Jungkook hummed as he reached out, grabbing your head more firmly as he forced you a little closer to his fat cock, “Open your mouth,” It was soft command you couldn’t deny as you let out a breathy moan as you parted you lips, “Mm yeah, now stick out your tongue.” 

“Jungkook…” You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment but you felt a sharp tug on your hair in reprimand. 

“You want to please me, yeah? Then be a good girl and show me your tongue.” Jungkook growled lightly as your lips trembled before you did as you were told. 

You stuck your tongue out a little as Jungkook grasped your hair once more rewarding, “Good girl,” He stroked your head, “Now open your mouth a little wider and let your spit drip on the head.” 

Your entire face felt like it was on fire, grabbing the base of his cock as you leaned over it, sticking your tongue out a little further as Jungkook spoke, “Look at me.” You meekly glanced up at him as a wad of spit dripped off your tongue, pooling down onto his fat bulbous head as he moaned softly, eyes lidded at the sight. 

“Fuck yeah, my pretty wife, now take the tip in your mouth, just the tip,” Jungkook ushered softly, watching in blind pleasure as you meekly leaned down, parting your lips a little further, you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. 

It wasn’t that you were staring at his cock, it was more like…it was staring at you. His tip was incredibly fat and bulbous, you knew this, but now being at eye level, mouth to cock level, it made you realize just how big he was.

“Having second thoughts?” Jungkook teased, “Your little rat wasn’t as well equipped?” 

Your eyes slowly looked up at him with a glare as he snickered, an affectionate look in his eyes, “Just the tip to start my goddess.”

Your lips parted around his tip before fully pushing it further into your mouth, your jaw immediately aching for a brief moment before you forced yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, sucking his tip gently as you waited for Jungkook’s next instruction. 

Jungkook could feel the sweat breaking on the back of his neck as he moaned softly, “Fuck,” Something about watching you struggle just to take his tip had his hormones completely fucked up, “Drag your tongue over the slit.” He gritted his teeth, watching you pull off his cock before you looked up at him, dragging your tongue over his head as his lips twitched, hot arousal beginning to fill him more and more, “Now suck it further.” 

Your lips pressed against his tip before you parted your lips once more, trying to relax your jaw as you took him back into your mouth, this time attempting to take him further. Keyword; attempt. It was admittedly a tight fit, not as impossible as you first assumed it would be, but not as roomy as it had once been with Seokjin. 

You let out a muffled whine causing Jungkook to moan as he gripped your hair a little tighter before he pushed you a little further down onto his cock, a noise sounded from you but it suspiciously sounded like a moan and you hadn’t pulled off him yet. 

Jungkook testingly yanked your hair a little, another whine thrumming on his cock as he began to force your head to bob along his cock, he moaned softly at the sight of your mouth stuffed with his cock, naked and tits bouncing, drool beginning to dribble down his shaft and to his balls. 

“Good girl sweetheart.” Jungkook moaned a soft praise as he began to push you down further onto his cock, now nearly half his cock stuffed into your mouth before you suddenly gagged, his fat head hitting the back of your throat. You hadn’t pulled completely off his cock, just enough to regain yourself before you grabbed his thighs, taking his cock back where it was before. 

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair as he puffed a breath, “What a good little girl, taking my cock this obediently. Mmm you don’t have to take it down your throat if you’re not ready, I’m sure you haven’t- fuck!” He hissed through his teeth at the sudden feel of his fat head beginning to forcefully squeeze down that tight little throat of yours. 

Your eyes were immediately blurring with tears and your jaw had a gripping ache in it and your throat was burning but you weren’t about to quit now as you took his cock further down your throat. 

Jungkook was moaning louder this time running a hand through his hair and trying to not give into the animalistic urge to fuck your throat raw, instead his hand won the battle instead, yanking your hair roughly, causing a choked gurgled whine to escape you, it had his cock throbbing even harder. 

You whimpered at your slow pace suddenly upheaved for a much rougher sloppier one as Jungkook forced your throat to take his cock exactly the way he wanted it, you were gagging now, tears dripping down your face as you moaned on his cock. 

Swears begin to leave his lips left and right before he came you were suddenly pulled off his cock, a breath of air escaping you as you gasped out, your throat painfully stinging as you looked up at him in teary eyed confusion. 

“Sit on my face.” It was ragged, grunted command

You coughed, rubbing your throat tenderly, “Pardon?” 

“Want to suck on your clit while you finish me.”

You couldn’t even ask how that would work before Jungkook suddenly grabbed you, roughly manhandled you as you whined out, clit throbbing as he turned you around, “Jungkook…!” 

“Going to suckle this pretty clit while you suck my cock,” He pulled your thighs closer as you dropped, hands catching the bed as you whined, now within distance of his cock, head weeping precum as it faced you. 

Jungkook easily moved your thighs to either side of his face as you let out a shaky breath, you didn’t think such a lewd position could exist and yet Jungkook was surprising you with new things with each passing day.

You let out a sharp moan at his tongue suddenly pressing against your hole, tasting your arousal before sliding up your puffy slit, an even louder moan escaping you as his lips wrapped around your clit for a brief moment.

“Use your hand and your mouth,” Jungkook growled, the carnal need to cum all over your face and his patience was running thin, hand suddenly smacking your ass in prompt as you let out a loud noise.

“Mm fuck yeah, squeeze it hard,” Jungkook moaned at your hand squeezing his thick base nice and hard, lips wrapping around his tip as he began to suckle your clit once more, a lewd mixture of moans filled the air. 

Jungkook’s hands rubbed down your thighs as before he harshly smacked your right ass cheek, hips jolting as he heard a gurgled whine, your hand forcefully pumping his base with a tight squeeze as you messily bobbed your head down on his cock. 

It was difficult to focus when his tongue was swirling around your sensitive little bud, every little flick sending shocks of pleasure in your body as you whined around his cock, every little sensation of pleasure making you take him further in your mouth as you began to rock your hips against his tongue.

Jungkook allowed his tongue to still, letting your hips guide his tongue to slide through your little slit back to your clit as you moaned, your hand stroking him roughly became shorter once more as your mouth took more of him

Your voice vibrated along his shaft as you sucked against him harder, hand stroking past his base as you tenderly massaged his balls, making a grunt escape him, lips wrapping around your clit once more as you whined, Jungkook refuses to let up.

His hand suddenly smacking your left ass cheek this time, the delicious sting of pain making you moan as spit slowly trailed down his shaft, your hand becoming lubricated as it squeezed harshly against his base, pumping him roughly as if trying to milk his cock for every drop of seed.

Jungkook smacked your ass harder, the stinging pain persisting as his tongue messily swirled your clit before the palm of his hand found your ass once more and his hips lifted, his cock sliding in your mouth with a gurgle, just the feeling made him moan and before he could stop he couldn’t help himself.

Jungkook’s hips continued to thrust as he felt your mouth obediently still for him, letting him fuck your mouth, cock sliding along your warm tongue as his palm smacked your poor right asscheek, once, then twice, he could feel your gurgled moans on his cock as he continued to fuck it in your mouth before he hit a particularly sensitive spot on your ass making you squirm.

Jungkook tenderly stroked the spot as he moaned along your clit, hips lethargically thrusting as your grip on his base suddenly squeezed tighter making him grunt once more, he had surely found heaven. Even with a pounding headache still raging your sweet cunt took the edge off it.

He moaned softly feeling pleasure throbbing in waves as his cock slid along your tongue, your hand pumping his base before massaging his balls once more, he didn’t even bother to warn you, too lost in his own pleasure buried in your cunt, lapping up your clit as his eyes closed, revealing in his orgasm as he came in your mouth. 

You let out an obscene moan as you took him further, sucking his cock harsh as his own moan mixed in the air, hands stroking your ass as you sucked every drop of cum from his cock until he was too sensitive as you pulled off him.

Jungkook however was still very much enjoying your cunt, lips lazily wrapping around your clit making you squeal once finally resting against his pubic bone as your clit throbbed, his tongue abusing your little bud as he moaned, lapping and suckling it as pleasure rapidly built in your body, far more than you were used to at once.

Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling of you jolting, the pleasure almost too intense as you struggled, his stubborn grip not letting you go as his tongue flattened your bud moaning as you whined out, “Mmm! Koo…! Ah…!” Your body stiffened at the way his tongue slid quickly along your sensitive clit, flicking at its sensitive spot before an even higher pitched cry left you.

Your thighs almost spreading more as your hips sudden rutted into his tongue, Jungkook moaned hands grabbing your hips in encouragement as you rutted into him further, clit throbbing in so much pleasure before you came, and it felt so good, having his warm, soft tongue continue over your clit and keep going.

Everything was becoming sensitive, even painful, but you couldn’t ask him to stop when it felt so good, Jungkook’s hands were all over your ass, petting it and squeezing the flesh in his hands as his tongue tenderly pressed into your clit, gathering the overstimulated bud in his mouth.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble as breathy whimpers escaped your lips, unable to keep yourself propped anymore as you laid against his body, letting him support you as he tongue swirled the bud that was quickly building pleasure once more, your moans were unfiltered, unholy and loud, “Koo…! Mmm’ Koo…mmm like that…”

Jungkook suckled your clit a little harder before flattening his tongue over the bud once more, clit burning in pleasure as you whined sharply, his tongue kept lapping that little sweet spot before your back began to arch, propping yourself on your forearms, hips desperately rutting his face for relief.

Feeling his tongue messily push through your slit back to your clit each time was like madness as pleasure bloomed in waves, before it finally snapped, cumming all over his tongue as you whined.

Hips unable to stop rutting as his tongue stilled for you, letting you go as long as you wanted, giving you as much pleasure as you wanted, riding your orgasm out until you felt the next one already building.

“Mmm! Koo…yeah…oh…!” you whimpered softly, eyes shut as you felt his tongue pushing and flattening onto your clit with each rut of your hips.

Every little touch had you jolting a little, thighs burning but your body unable to stop at that delicious sting of hypersensitivity, your clit aching in pleasure with each slide of friction with his tongue.

Jungkook kept your hips still as his tongue swirled around your aching bud making you moan, mumbling incomprehensible words, pleasure aching in your body as he suckled the tender bud in his mouth once more.

Jungkook was particularly tender this time, slowly coaxing the orgasm from your body, tongue making no harsh motion or movement, only pressing softly into your sweet spot each time just a little harder. 

Your body trembled as you let out a gurgled whine, pleasuring building as you felt his tongue swirl around your little hole, dragging arousal with his tongue as he lapped your clit, giving it a soft kiss before gathering the little bud into his mouth to suckle.

The gesture made your body fold, cumming from the sensation as you collapsed against him once more, eyes blurred from tears of pleasure at how good it felt, how good he made you feel.

Jungkook pressed one last kiss against your clit before he slowly peeled you off his face, his hands were gentle as he manhandled you, pulling you against his chest with a soft moan.

Kisses flustering along your collarbone as he murmured, “Mmm, my wife, mine,” his fingers squeezed against your skin, “My head is killing me.”

This caused a tired chuckle to escape your lips, curling against him as you tenderly pressed a kiss against his neck in reciprocation, “I know my love, maybe you should not drink as much tonight…?”

“I make no promises,” Jungkook murmured against your skin softly, fingers tracing the sides of your body, “Especially when you take pity on me like this.” he pressed another kiss against the side of your head, “Even moreso when you look so beautiful….” He slowly frowned, piercing eyes trailing your body as his hands feathered along your skin, “What did he want with you last night…?”

In turn you couldn’t help but frown at the memory, shifting in your husbands arms as you laid on your stomach, hand reaching out to brush the hair from his eyes, “Seokjin took me to his office to talk privately, it appears he…” You sighed, a worried look beginning to spread across your face.

“What?” Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

“While he assumed we were still a couple- there’s something else that worries me more…” You thought back to the previous night as you continued, “He mentioned having a plan…? Involving me coming here on my own and staying.” 

Jungkook frowned, laying on his back as he stared at the ceiling in thought, “That could mean many things. Even if you had come here by yourself, staying would cause uneasy tension with Penumbra.”

“And what would that lead to…?” You asked, trying to figure out just what Seokjin had planned.

Jungkook shrugged, “Seems Kimhae was willing to go to war for you.” 

“You would go to war for me?” 

Jungkook’s lips quirked as he gazed at you, his eyes full of admiration as his fingers traced along your jawline, “If you were kept here against your will, if it meant bringing you back home.” 

You couldn’t help but share a shy smile with him, closing your eyes at the feeling of his hand tracing along your back, “Still…it worries me, much tension has been detected surrounding Penumbra.” 

“What would you propose we do about this then…?” Jungkook asked. 

You chewed on your lip in thought, “Well, I already ruined any chance of Seokjin potentially giving me any information.” 

Had you played your cards a little smarter you could’ve charmed Seokjin’s little plan right out of him, granted you were sure Jungkook would’ve rather fell on his own sword before witnessing such an event, so perhaps this was for the best anyways.

This made Jungkook snort, “Made a point did you?” 

“Nothing less than a true Jeon would.” You replied, perhaps a little proud.

This made Jungkook smile, clearly enjoying the way you wore his surname, “Nothing less than I’d expect from my wife.” 

“The only way we can know for sure if Kimhae has ill intentions is if we search Seokjin’s office.” You hummed out with a nod of certainty, “If there’s information anywhere on it, it would be there.” 

“…You’re asking that we do something that would potentially land us in hot water with the royal court if we got caught…?” Jungkook hummed.

A mischievous smile tugged on your lips before you whispered out, “I’ll have you know I was very good at sneaking out.” 

“Why am I not surprised?” He looked amused, “And when do you propose we do this? Since his office is definitely not highly guarded.” 

“We’ll have to sneak away during the ball,” you answered easily, “Most of the guards and attention will be on the ballroom since so many royals and high aristocrats will be attending, should make the halls easy to navigate, and everyone will be making merry- even the staff, shouldn’t be too difficult to get to his office unnoticed.” 

Jungkook raised his brows intrigued, “Hm…so you really are a troublemaker.” 

“Are you surprised?” 

“No.” Jungkook let a sly smile tug on his lips, “Our marriage would’ve been terribly boring if you weren’t.” 

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x y/n smut #jungkook smut #bts au

[dancingbirdie]

Here’s a smut idea that’s been stuck in my mind, how about the reader getting caught in the middle of “taking care of themself” and Astarion decides to join the fun but only to guide their hands along and just cooing soft, encouraging/teasing words into their ear 😩

Hi, anon! This was so naughty and I loved it. I wrote this fic in, like, less than two hours. So I guess that shows how excited I was to sketch this out haha. I hope you enjoy! xoxoxo

A Good Show

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings/Tags: masturbation (fem), praise kink, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes

Summary: Astarion catches you playing with yourself and is all too eager to help you finish.

*****

“Your wicked tongue got you into this predicament. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion smirked down at you, sprawled as you were on hands and knees over his lap. 

You whimpered as his fingertips traced across your backside, feather-soft, mapping the skin there. 

You heard the crack of his palm against your bottom before you actually registered the sting. A desperate mewl slipped from your lips as your mind attempted to reconcile the pain with the flood of arousal in your lower abdomen. 

You were so wet. Dripping, filthy wet. And he knew it. 

“Tch. So naughty. Not even a good smack can get you to behave. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?” Astarion murmured. His hand resumed its tracing while the other carded through your hair lovingly. 

“Whatever you want,” you breathed, trembling with want from the obscene position you found yourself in. Naked, bent over Astarion’s lap, ass smarting, and cunt as wet as the Chianthar. 

“Dangerous words, darling,” he chuckled, dipping his fingers lower and slipping all too easily between your slick folds. 

You moaned as you felt him insert two fingers inside you and begin pumping at a leisurely pace. His other hand soon joined, thumb circling slowly around your swollen clit. It was all you could do to remain balanced and not collapse on top of his lap. 

You could see it so clearly in your mind’s eye. 

Although it was your fingers pumping inside you, it was his hands you thought of. It was his slender digits, impaling you again and again. It was his thumb circling your clit until you nearly saw stars. 

You’d shoved the collar of your tunic in your mouth to keep your voice muffled. The vision you were concocting was so vivid, it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from moaning. The humble little inn you all had settled in for the night was so quiet; you could only pray that no one heard you through the thin walls. But just a few more pumps of your fingers with fantasy-Astarion goading you on, and you knew that a climax would be nearing ever closer. 

Your hopes for secrecy were dashed as your ears pricked, honing in on the quiet cough emanating from the corner of the room. You froze. To your horror, you realized the door to your quarters was ajar and who else but Astarion himself was now peering around it to find you, perched at the end of the bed, trousers at your ankles, playing with yourself. 

You could have sworn you’d secured the latch on the door beforehand. But, then again, this place was in shambles. It was fully possible that the thing was too rusted to do its simple job. Either way, it hardly mattered now, given that the subject of your pleasure fantasy was now locking eyes with you in reality, his eyebrows raised in obvious amusement. 

“My, my. What do we have here? And, more importantly, why didn’t I receive an invitation?” he smirked. 

His voice spurred you into action, and you quickly rose from your reclined position to attempt to cover your not-so-decent bits from view. You could feel the red crush of embarrassment coloring every part of your body it could. 

“Astarion, I’m so, so sorry. I swore I closed the door earlier and… and…” you trailed off, burying your face in your hands. “Gods, this is worse than a javelin to the thigh,” you finished in a muffled tone.

You heard his throaty chuckle. “These locks are all but disintegrated, darling. They’d barely hold a mouse at bay, I’d wager.” 

You nodded, too mortified to continue having this conversation with him. It was bad enough to have been caught in the act, but to be caught by the very person you’d been fantasizing about? The gods were truly cruel. 

You heard the door close with a quiet snick. Assuming Astarion had sauntered off down the hall, your shoulders sagged with the weight of all that had transpired. 

You didn’t expect his voice to call to you again. This time, a little closer in proximity. 

“Well, is that it, then?” he goaded. 

You lifted your head slowly from your hands to peer at him. He was watching you with an intensity that one might see in a predator observing their prey. 

“What do you mean?” you hedged. 

“I mean, are you going to leave yourself half-sated, or are you going to finish what you started?” Astarion intoned. 

“What - are you thinking of staying for a show?” you retorted, flabbergasted at yet another turn in the course of these events.

“Wouldn’t you like me to?” he pressed, a teasing smile stretching his lips wide. His fangs glinted in the candlelight. “I heard you sigh my name, you know.”

You stared at him in horror, but he only chuckled again. 

“The wonders of elf ears and vampiric senses. They never cease,” he explained. 

Then he made his way further into the room, closer to you, before slouching against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed. 

“I know you want to,” he murmured in a low drawl. “I can feel your arousal. It’s still boiling within you.”

Your breath stuttered of its own accord. His voice was so deep, so smooth, it was nearly impossible to resist. 

“I don’t know that I can…” you whispered, not trusting your voice to keep the gravity of your desire a secret. “What with you, you know, just standing there watching me…”

“Oh, darling,” he cooed, peeling away from the bedpost to crawl up on the mattress behind you. You watched him, awestruck, until he disappeared from your peripheral vision. 

“I plan to do much more than that,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. 

You shivered as you felt his legs stretch and line up against yours, while his hands came to band around each of your wrists. You groaned as you felt the hardness of his erection pressed firm against your backside, realization dawning on you that he was enjoying this, too. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” you breathed as you allowed him to lift your hands from your lap. Like you were a marionette on strings. His marionette. His strings. 

“Making sure you give yourself a good finish,” he crooned. “Now, lean back into me, and start touching yourself again.”

The obscenity of it all caused your cunt to flush with arousal all over again. You clenched on thin air, a pitiful whine escaping your mouth. 

“Three fingers this time, please,” Astarion whispered, nudging your right hand down lower. “I know you can take it.” 

Your fingers followed his orders almost of their own accord. Like your body was primed and ready to take Astarion’s demands, whatever they may be. 

You groaned as you sheathed three fingers inside your dripping cunt, pulsing them in and out. It was tight, so tight, but in the most delicious way. 

“There’s a good girl,” he murmured through a kiss against your temple. “Now the other hand, if you will.”

You whined as he guided the fingers of your left hand to begin circling your swollen clit, almost too sensitive to bear. 

“That’s it, darling. Yes. You follow orders so well,” he crooned. “Give yourself a good finish. Let me see how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me.”

You were beyond words. Couldn’t fathom enough of them to string together a sentence. His name and a plea to the gods were all you could muster, and after a while those two seemed to blend into one. Astarion was the only god here that you could feel. And it was his praises you sang as he kept a firm grip on your wrists, forcing yourself to usher in your completion. 

“You’re so close, I can almost taste it,” he breathed into your ear. You could feel his ragged breathing behind you as you continued to touch yourself, back arching into his chest all the while.

“Give me a good show, darling. Come for me. Come with my name on your lips,” he ordered. 

Your body was more than willing to comply. With a last thrust of your fingers, landing all the harder thanks to the extra force Astarion applied to your hand, you wailed his name as you climaxed. Your body shuddered as you reeled from the pleasure of it, stars exploding behind your eyelids and reforming from the dust that remained. 

It was the hardest orgasm you had ever experienced by your hand, and you knew it had everything to do with the one who had been guiding you. You collapsed your full weight into Astarion’s chest, soaking in the coolness of his skin against your heated flesh. 

“That was… that was incredible…” you murmured after a moment spent collecting your breath. 

You bounced against his body slightly as he chuckled. “It was, wasn’t it?” he mused. “You gave quite the performance, I have to say.” 

“I had an excellent instructor,” you teased, eliciting a true bark of laughter from him at last. 

“Free lessons for you, whenever you’d like,” he retorted, kissing your temple once more.

#dancingbirdiewrites #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion fic #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #astarion x f!reader #lemon #lemon fic

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 1)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

A/N: Okay, so the little blue haired menace has been rotting my brain for the past week, sue me. I tried to get him out of my brain by rewatching Gravity Falls, only for the episode “The Hand that Rocks the Mabel” to inspire a whole fanfic. Straight up water on a grease fire. Anyway, enjoy.

Next

I always forget how much of a hassle moving is until it’s time to actually do it. Weeks spent selling and giving away half of my belongings, trying to shove the rest of them into boxes, then taking all of them into a new location only to have to figure out where all of them should go in the new space; it’s on the list of most mundane yet stressful life events a person has to put themselves through.

These were the feelings that hung around my being like a dark cloud for the past few weeks, but now, as I finally set my final knickknack in its chosen spot, I can feel the sun breaking through. I stand up and stretch as hard as I can, trying to wring the residual tension out of my spine. Even with my reduced number of belongings, it’s a lot of work to unpack them all, especially when working alone.

I didn’t have to do all the work myself. Within minutes of hauling stacks of boxes into my new house, I’d been approached by numerous rather colorful people, all very keen to lend a hand. As the newest neighbor in town, I was a curiosity to them, after all. I’d declined the offers, not wanting to place any burdens on the shoulders of my new potential friends. Looking back on it, that wasn’t my smartest move. Or maybe that’s just my aching muscles talking.

I’m dragged out of my tired contentment by the sound of a knock on the front door. Relaxing with a heaving sigh, I stroll over and peer out the peephole. Standing on my porch is a large, multicolored bird. My eyes dart to the plate of cookies balanced in her wings. With newfound excitement, I yank open the door and greet her with a smile.

The bird almost appears startled at this, the cookies on the plate jostling as she jumped. “Oh dear!” She shuffles the plate to her left hand, her right settling upon her chest as if to calm her heart. “You startled me for a moment!”

I give her a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Settling down, she waves her free wing dismissively. “Nothing to apologize for, I’m a bit prone to fright, is all.” As if remembering their existence, she extends the plate of cookies towards me. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood! I do hope you like them!”

“I’m sure I will!” I pull the plate from her grasp and hold it carefully to my chest, my mouth watering at the sugary smell. “They look and smell delicious, thank you so much…” I trail off, realizing in embarrassment that I never caught her name.

She seems to sense my hesitation, and beams in reassurance. “My name’s Poppy, Poppy Partridge.” I give her my name, mentally thanking her for the help. “It’s very nice to meet you, we haven’t had any new neighbors in a long time.”

“Really?” My head tilts to the side. “Why not? This place is beautiful.”

“Oh, I can’t say myself,” she sighs. “Suppose there’s just not much to around here.”

I shrug, trying to appear lighthearted. “It’s a pity.” She nods in agreement, and the conversation begins to lull. Not wanting to leave on such a sour note, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what do you like to do around here?”

“Me?” she squawks, looking taken aback. She fidgets with her feathers, her wings wringing around each other. “I suppose I like to bake, especially when the weather’s nice enough for a picnic.” I can almost see the lightbulb turn on above her head, and she turns her much cheerier gaze to my own. “Say, the rest of us were planning on a picnic this afternoon! Care to join us? It’d be a good time to meet your new neighbors.”

A sense of anxiety washes over me. The idea of being among that many strangers with such late notice flutters around in my stomach like butterflies. Without thinking, I begin to shift back and forth on my feet. “I… I don’t know, it’s very sudden…”

The bird wilts a bit, looking down at my porch. “Oh dear, it is, isn’t it? You must still be so busy with unpacking.”

I look up at her, my anxiety curdling into regret at her disappointment. I reconsider the situation. What’s an hour or two with a handful of strangers? There’s only nine houses in this town, counting my own, I can handle it. Having made up my mind, I shake my head. “No, no, I already finished unpacking. I’ll be there.”

Poppy perks up. “You will?” I smile, hoping she can’t see the hesitation in it. “That’s wonderful news!” She flaps her wings in excitement before stopping with a gasp of realization. “I have more baking to do, than! I’d better get going,” she says, turning to leave with one last wave of her big red wing. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”

“See you soon!” I shout back, waving with the hand that wasn’t clutching the plate of cookies. As she goes further from my field of vision, I feel myself slump, the excitement of a new friend and a batch of treats wearing off to remind me of my exhaustion. My hand falls limp to my side and I stare at the plate in contemplation.

Nap? Or snack?

I pluck a cookie from the tray and take a bite, feeling myself melt at the incredible flavor. I scarf the rest of the sweet down before heading back inside, picking up another one as I go. Maybe just a few before I rest up.

—————————

I snap up on my couch, almost falling off of it in my sudden awakening. What time is it? A quick glance at the clock on my wall reveals it to be mid-afternoon, and I throw myself off my resting place so fast I nearly hit the floor. I scramble to the window and see a small crowd of people in the distance, the sounds of talk and laughter wafting in through the glass. I let out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn’t… that late. After a quick change and a once over in the mirror, I hurry out the door and towards the picnic.

As I approach, the jolly sounds become clearer, with voices all chattering their cares away. Colorful blankets are scattered across the clearing, each rife with sandwiches and sweets. I really hope they aren’t upset that I didn’t bring anything. As I scan my surroundings, I pick out Poppy as she talks with a caterpillar and head in her direction, relieved at the semi-familiar face.

As if on cue, my way is blocked by a short girl in a pink dress dragging along a disgruntled looking man with a bowtie. “Ooh, you must be the new neighbor!” she squeals, bouncing up and down in place, hands flapping in front of her chest. “We were so worried you weren’t gonna come! I’m Julie Joyful, and this,” she says as she grabs the arm of the man next to her, “is Frank Frankly! Say hi, Franky!”

“Uh… hello.” I pondered briefly if I looked as awkward as poor Frank did as he gave me a small wave. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” I respond. As Julie begins to babble about her excitement, my eyes move to drift over the rest of the strangers. The vast majority are split off into their own small groups, with a single exception. Sitting on a bench under a large apple tree is a man who seems to be studying me the same way I’m studying him. One of his legs is crossed over the other, supporting his elbow as he rests his chin on his hand, staring at me with an intensity that sends a small shiver down my spine. And either I’m going crazy, or his lazy smile broadens ever so slightly at that.

I’m startled out of my impromptu staring contest by Julie, who seems to have noticed that I wasn’t listening and cranes her neck to see what I’m looking at. “Oh, have you met Wally yet?”

I shake my head. “No, not yet.” It takes all the willpower in my body not to meet those eyes that I can almost feel lingering on me.

The girl grins, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you gotta meet him! I bet you two will get along like two peas in a pod!”

She begins to force me from my spot, and I feel myself start to panic. Before she can pull me away to the creepy man, Frank reaches out and stops her in her tracks. “Say, Julie, they don’t look too keen on it. Maybe they should take it slow, meet the others on their own time?” He gestures broadly to the snacks left sitting around. “They haven’t even gotten anything to eat yet, after all.”

Julie looks surprised at the intervention, a flash of guilt going over her face. “Oh my, you’re right, Frank! I’m so sorry, neighbor, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable!” At my dismissive hand wave, she changes course, instead pulling me to the piles of food. “Poppy told me she gave you some cookies, but just you wait ‘til you try her pie!” I turn to look at Frank, mouthing a ‘thank you’ at the grumpy looking man. He smiles a bit with a reassuring nod, and the three of us settle down on a blanket. For the rest of the picnic I eat while the two of them (mainly just Julie with the occasional comment from Frank) talk about all kinds of things.

I try hard to pretend I can’t feel the eyes burning into the back of my head.

—————————

The sound of a steady, rhythmic knock wakes me up the next morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes, noting with absent mind how high the sun had already risen. The three slow knocks reverberate through my house once again, and I roll out of bed and head towards the front door, not bothering to change out of my pajamas or even look through the peephole. This, as it turns out, is a bad move on my part.

I yawn as I open the door, only for it to become a strangled cough as I lock eyes with the one resident I didn’t want to see this early. The man, or Wally as Julie had called him, stood on my porch, his face as eerily relaxed as ever. His posture was straight, his clothes neat, his appearance put together; I don’t think he could be any more of a contrast to my current state if he actively worked towards it. Which, to be frank, I suspect he did.

Just like the last time I’d encountered him, the two of us looked as if we were having a staring contest. Unlike last time, however, this time he decides to break the silence. “Hi, neighbor.” His voice is soft and monotonous, each syllable dragging along in no hurry. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.”

Somehow, I doubt that. In an attempt to relieve the strange tension, I let out a stilted laugh. “Yeah, you did, but it’s fine. I overslept, anyway.” He hums in acknowledgement, and it takes a few long seconds for me to realize he doesn’t plan on responding. Eager to hurry along this interaction so I can dart back into my house and hide from those piercing eyes, I prompt, “Something I can help you with, Wally?”

He tilts his head. “I never told you my name.”

“Yeah, no, you uh, you didn’t. Julie told me yesterday. At the… the picnic.”

“Oh, right. You three looked like you had a good time.”

“We did! We did…”

“Hmm.” His smile stretches, looking pleased by that confirmation. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re settling in okay. I’ve heard it can be awful hard to make new friends, but you have a way of drawing people in, huh?” Cutting me off before I can ask for elaboration, Wally continues. “Speaking of drawing, I was hoping you might join me for some painting today, down by the south woods.”

“Oh!” I blurt out, taking a moment to process the invitation. “I’m not exactly much of an artist, myself.”

He laughs, and it’s every bit as emphatic as the rest of his speech. “Oh, neighbor, that doesn’t matter. We all start somewhere, and besides, I’d like the company.”

I consider turning him down flat, but something tells me he’s a bit too persuasive for me to keep him at bay forever. With a grin so forced it hurts, I say, “Sounds like fun! I’ll be there.”

Wally’s head bobs in a slow nod, and he takes a step back from the door. “I’m glad to hear it. See you soon, neighbor.”

I return the nod and raise a hand in a brief wave. “See you soon.” His stare remains, and just as I ready myself to ask him to stop, he finally, finally, turns away and walks away, humming a quiet tune to himself.

I step inside and close the door, leaning my forehead against it as I recover from the encounter. My stomach growls, but I feel as though I’ve lost my appetite. The inexplicable dread in my heart squashes any hope of breakfast. I close my eyes, but even then I can still see his own staring back, unblinking in their ceaseless observation. With a shudder, I push myself up, trying my best to steel my nerves. It’s just a little art lesson, I chastise myself. So he’s a little spooky, it’s probably fine.

No matter how many times I repeated those three words to myself, the memory of those eyes seems to peer right through the lie.

#yandere wally darling #wally darling x reader #yandere wally darling x reader #yandere x reader #yandere welcome home #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere #x reader #horror #ain’t he darling

[stoned-writer]

His Sunshine - Lloyd Hansen

summary: No one disrespects his baby and gets away with it.

warnings: smut! daddy kink, spit kink, degradation, praise, unprotected p n v (wrap it before you tap it)

word count: 2,609

a/n: Hii, this is my very first time writing anything like ever so pls be nice ! its not that good but being my first time i think its okay! hope you all enjoy :)

likes & reblogs appreciated !

To the outside world Lloyd could be classified as a sociopath, given his lack of empathy for anyone that stands in his way. However, there is another side to this deliciously unhinged man. A side that no one gets to see. Except for you of course. To you Lloyd is as soft as a feather. He would do absolutely anything for you. So when someone blatantly disrespects you and your relationship with him, lets just say, it doesn’t end well for whoever thought they could cross that line. 

The day started pretty normal, you woke up before Lloyd, laying there admiring his sleeping form. “I can feel you staring sunshine” he said with a raspy morning voice. “Can’t help it bub you’re just so pretty.” You’re mornings together usually go like this. He turns over and looks at you, you can see the love and adoration in his eyes, that look that no one will ever get to see outside this bedroom. “Not as pretty as you angel,” he says making you blush. He never fails to make you weak in the knees. There’s something about him being able to go from absolutely ruthless to a lovesick mess that makes your heart swell. You both get up to start the day, after taking a shower together you head downstairs to make breakfast for the two of you. Given the size of the house, his men are always lurking around. As you walk into the kitchen you spot a few of them, one man imparticuar shoots you a look you can’t decipher, it immediately makes you uncomfortable. You brush it off for the moment, focusing on breakfast for you and your husband. However, you can feel the mans gaze on you the entire time. 

Lloyd finally enters the kitchen, making you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist placing a series of kisses on your neck. Lloyd has never been shy about PDA. He likes making sure everyone knows you belong to him. “Looks great sunshine, thank you” he said smiling at you. You duck your head, feeling shy at his praise. He chuckles, knowing the effect he has on you. You both eat breakfast in a comfortable silence. After you both finish cleaning up, Lloyd gets a phone call. You can tell whatever it is, it already set him off. He strides over to you, with his hands on your hips he says “I’ll be back in a few hours angel. Have to take care of some business.” You’ve been with him long enough to know what that means. His job never bothered you. It probably should have, but the love you have for him is so strong, none of that mattered. You sigh slightly to hide your disappointment, “I thought I’d have you to myself today baby” you said, “I know pumpkin, but you know these morons can’t get anything done without me” he says with a small laugh, trying to ease your now slightly sour mood. You look up at him and smile, “I know honey, none of them can do it like you” you say with a wink. He pulls you in to kiss you passionately, not giving a single fuck about anyone who was watching. When he pulls away he says in a playful tone “I’ll see ya later pretty girl, promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back” throwing you a wink before walking out to conduct his work in his office. 

Hours pass and you are starting to get anxious. You miss him when he’s working, but you know better than to interrupt whatever tourture is going on behind the doors of his office. However, today you’re feeling quite adventurous. You skip up to your shared bedroom and put on your mans favorite light blue lingerie set, knowing that it drives him crazy. You slip on a short tight bodycon dress of the same color over it. Looking over yourself in the mirror, you smirk knowing this would grab his attention with no problem. 

You saunter over to the other side of the house where his office is located. Knocking lightly on the door, one of the newer boys answers the door looking a little scared. “Uh-uh Mrs. Hansen, I apologize but he’s busy at the moment” with that you hear your husband say “Let my wife in, unless you want to be on the receiving end of this gun.” You smirk at the boy and push into the room. Lloyd rakes his eyes over your body, letting out a low groan at your appearance, “oh sunshine, whats all this?” he says knowing exactly what your’re doing and loving it. “Was just missing you sweetheart” you say looking up at him through your lashes, giving him that oh so innocent look he loves so much. “All this for me doll?” “Of course daddy only the best for you,” you say knowing that would get him riled up. Lloyd stares down at you holding eye contact for who knows how long. You can tell he’s trying to decide his next move. Before he can proceed with you, the man from this morning takes it upon himself to break up your little moment with your husband. “We don’t have time for this Lloyd, dismiss your little toy and lets get this done.” Lloyd whips his head around to face the man who was about to regret opening his mouth. “What did you just say?” The man digs himself into a deeper hole by rolling his eyes and scoffing to his boss, “You heard me. Your little bitch here is a distraction, not to mention shes seen too much already.” Lloyd continues to glare at the man for a second before saying “Do I need to remind you of who I am asshole? Nobody disrespects my wife and lives to utter another word.” He catches the man off guard with a hand to his throat and makes him face you, “apologize to my girl before I cut out your tongue and make you eat it.” The man is now shaking slightly, “I’m sorry Mrs. Hansen,” he says flatly still not understanding the gravity of the situation he got himself into. Lloyd rolls his eyes and throws the man into a chair next to his desk. He nods over the other men in the room “Tie. Him. Up.” he says darkly. The men rush to do as he says. “This is gonna be fun” he chuckles. Lloyd strides back over to you and cups your face in his large hands, “You okay pretty girl?” he asks with concern lacing his tone. “I’m okay baby.” Lloyd looks back othe to the man now tied to his chair, then back to you, “Now before I put a bullet in the back of this morons head, what do you say we give him a little show darlin?” His words go straight to your core, sending a shiver down your spine, you match his smirk and nod your head timidly “anything for you daddy” he smiles and shakes his head “that’s my girl.” He motions to the rest of his men that are still occupying the room, all frozen at the scene in front of them, “the rest of you out. Now.” They clear the room in a heartbeat, leaving the three of you. 

Lloyd circles the man currently tied up in the corner of his office, “Now, before the inevitable happens here, you’re gonna watch me fuck my perfect little wife, watch me claim her.” He then walks over to you and grabs your hand, brining you over to his desk, lifting you effortlessly to sit on top of it. Standing between your legs, hands on your hips “You sure this is okay angel?” he asks, the way his voice switches between dark and vicious to soft and sweet turning you on even more. You nod your head at him to let him know you want this. “Gonna need you to use your words sunshine,” “Yes daddy, I want this.” He sends you a dark yet sweet smile “good girl.” He leans in to kiss you, it starts off slow but you can tell hes holding himself back. You pull away from him to say “I want you baby, don’t hold back, please.” He chuckles a little and nods “whatever you say princess.” 

That seemed to flip a switch in him. He crashes his lips in to yours making you gasp, he immediately slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan against him as you throw your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hand make their way down to you ass squeezing hard making you tighten your hold on him. “Please” you breathe out to him, not entirely sure what your begging for you just want him to touch you. “Please what angel? Use your words for me bunny.” You whine out “please daddy, touch me, fuck me, anything” he slides his hands down to your thighs and sneaks his way up the bottom of your dress. He then notices the bit of lingerie peaking out “oh sweetheart you shouldn’t have” you giggle sweetly “just for you daddy.” He pulls your dress off leaving you in your skimpy lingerie that he loves oh so much. He moves his head into your neck, sucking and kissing, making sure to leave marks. He brings his hand between your thighs, feeling the heat radiating off of you already. He slides your panties to the side to feel for himself just how wet you are. “Oh sugar you really do love this don’t you? Such a little slut for me right?” You throw your head back trembling already “yes daddy such a slut for you, just for you.” He retracts his hand, earning a slight whine from you, “patience angel.” He then brings two of his fingers to your awaiting mouth, “suck,” and you do eagerly. He brings his saliva covered fingers back down and runs them through your already dripping folds.

He brings his free hand up to your throat. Squeezing slightly, not enough to hurt you he’d never do that to his angel, but just enough to bring your eyes back to his. Holding eye contact with you he slips his fingers into you with ease. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a loud moan that goes straight ot Lloyds dick. He looks over to the man in the corner of the room, having forgot about him for a second. Something about seeing him hold eye contact with the man while he was knuckles deep inside you sent you over the edge. “Daddy I’m gonna cum- please - please can i cum?” He whips his head over to you, “cum angel- cum all over my fingers baby.” With that, you let go, head thrown back, letting out a loud moan “oh- oh god yes daddy- fuck.” He slowly removes his fingers from you and brings them up to his lips, locking eyes with you as he sucks his fingers clean. 

Coming down from your high you bring your hands down to fumble with his belt. You finally get his pants unbuttoned and slip your hand into his boxers to feel him. “You see what you do to me angel?” you moan at that, knowing that you effect him just as much as he does you. He turns the the man and growls “Hope you’re enjoying the show buddy, probably the last thing you’re gonna see.” That makes you groan, how hot he sounds when he’s threatening someone for you. He tugs his pants off impossibly fast making his dick slap against his stomach, not being able to wait any longer, needing to be buried deep inside you. You run your hands up his chest, scratching lightly. He brings his hand to lift your chin up and pull you into a kiss, this one is different its rough, full of need and urgency. With his lips still locked to yours, he bring his cock to your entrance, catching you off guard. He pulls away and places his hands on your hips, checking on the man once more, then back to you, “look at him sunshine, probably hard in his pants watching me put my claim on you. Probably wishes he could be in my position right?” He looks back over to the man, “such a shame, he won’t live long enough to even use his dick again” he says darkly. 

Coming back to you, he lines himself up with your dripping hole, slamming himself inside you with no warning, making you scream, “oh fuck baby, you’re so big daddy” “I know angel - i know. But you can take it right? I know you can. My good girl.” He can feel your legs shaking under him. His motions are slow and hard at first, driving you insane. “More baby please i need more” you plead to him. He changes his pace, now slamming into you with fast hard strokes, nearly splitting you in two. He hits that sweet spot with every thrust. Bringing one of his hands back to your throat, he taps your bottom lip with his thumb, “open” he says sternly, you obey and open your mouth for him, he spits right into your mouth making you throw your head back and moan loudly. “Such a slut for me, my perfect little wife, so beautiful angel.” He can tell your close, he is too. “ Feel ya squeezing me doll, milking my cock so good baby, so tight” “it's so good daddy, i'm so close baby, let me cum please daddy i need it” you beg him so sweetly. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart? Go ahead baby cum on my cock, show this asshole what he'll never have.” With that you let go squirting all over him, screaming “Oh f-fuck” throwing your head back as he works you through your orgasm, “daddy please cum for me, fill me up, i need it so bad baby.” That sends Lloyd over the edge his grip on your hips tighten as he throws his head back, he spills himself inside you, you moan at the feeling and breathe out “thank you daddy” coming down from his own high he presses his forehead to yours, breathing heavily, “you’re welcome sunshine, you were such a good girl for daddy.”

He slowly pulls out of you making you whine at the loss of him inside you. He watches his cum drip out of you and groans at the sight, bringing his fingers to push it back into you, then brings those skilled fingers to his lips and sucks, “hmmm we taste so good together baby.” he wraps you in his button down shirt that was thrown across the room in your rush to get him inside you. “Lets get you out of here and cleaned up, then I’ll deal with this little disgrace,” you look up at him sweetly, “can i stay daddy please?” he cups your face in his hands ready to protest this little idea, “oh angel- i don't know, you shouldn’t have to see that pretty girl.” you assure him “i want to please baby?” batting your eyelashes at him, knowing he can't resist. He chuckles “you’re something else babygirl, i love you so much” you giggle knowing you got your way as you always do with him. “I love you so much more daddy.” 

Fin.

#chris evans fanfic #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen #the gray man #lloyd hansen fic

[cherryredstars]

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!artist!reader

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: The beauty in art. 

A/N: Based on this request.

Word Count: 1.2K (Unedited)

He was more than just displeased. 

He was tired and aching, muscles sore from a long day. The ache became more prominent as he was forced to hold his ridiculous pose. But no matter how much he huffed and puffed, he would hold it until you gave the okay for him to move. He guessed it wasn’t so bad. From here, he could see your side profile. Could see the lidded look in your eyes as you sketched onto your canvas, mouth slightly parted. Your eyelashes would flutter so beautifully as you blinked, the dying sunlight illuminating your small art room and making your eyes glisten and hair shiny. You could produce beautiful art, but Miguel would never find anything more beautiful than you in the process. 

Another one of his huffs caught your attention, and you turned to him with a smile and laughter in your voice. “Miguel, I told you it would take a while. Stop complaining!”

He glared at you teasingly, shifting again but stopping when you glared back, “Can’t we just continue again tomorrow? I’m tired.”

Sympathy filled your eyes and you gave him another small smile, “I’m almost done. A few more minutes, I promise.” 

Miguel sighed, staying in his position obediently. True to your word, you sketched a few more lines onto the canvas before thanking him. His muscles relaxed instantly, going to leave your art room to go to bed, but was stopped at the door when you gave him a quick kiss to his lips and thanked him again. He hummed against your lips, his body sagging as he told you not to stay up too late working. You gave him a dismissive wave of your hand and he went to bed. 

____________________________________

For the next few weeks, every second of Miguel’s free time at home was spent in your art studio. You had insisted. Something about the handiness of having a live model to reference when it came to shadows and lighting and everything and anything under the sun. It was definitely better than posing, seeing as he was allowed to just lounge on your studio couch and do whatever he needed to do. It did get annoying every now and then when he had something important to work on, forcing him to carry things from his home office into your studio and then back out at the end of the session. But it brought a smile to his face every time he complained and you whined, “Please? I just want to spend time with you too. I like spending time with you.”

He likes spending time with you too. 

Today was one of the rare days where Miguel didn’t have anything to work on. He simply laid on the couch, watching you work. Your brush was feather light on the canvas, picking into a pile of paint and transferring the coloring onto your work. Every now and then you would clean off your brush, a soft ringing filling the room as the brush handle knocked into the glass of water. The peacefulness made him sleepy, and he picked at a loose thread in your couch pillows. 

“How come you won’t let me look at the painting? Is it bad?” He asked, the last bit covered in teasing. 

You smiled at the canvas, eyes briefly flicking to him before you continued working. “The process of every painting is ugly. That’s why we say ‘Trust the process’.”

Miguel snorted at your answer, clearly dissatisfied. It made you laugh and you shook your head as you decided that you were done for the night. Maybe a day and a half more of working and you would be done officially. Your eyes flicker over to the calendar you keep on the wall. Perfect.

You walk over to Miguel helping him off the couch and guiding him out of your studio so the two of you can start on dinner before going to bed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

________________________________________

It’s snowing, Miguel realizes as he sits in the living room. He can see it behind the tree you have put up, fuzzy white dots falling from the sky. The air smells like your cooking, warm spices filling the house. He can hear you approaching from behind him, and he doesn’t even flinch when your hands suddenly fall to his shoulders.

Your hands massage the muscle absentmindedly, following his gaze outside of the window. “It’s snowing,” You point out, and he hums and repeats it back to you. 

You seem to light up as you stare at it, squeezing his shoulders one last time before approaching the tree. Miguel watches you silently, brow raised in question as you grab one from the back. You check the tag on it to make sure it’s the right one, before walking back over to Miguel. You perch yourself onto his lap, handing him the present.

His arms wrap around your body, holding the wrapped gift in his hands before the two of you. He squeezes you in his arms, shaking the present slightly, before you place our hand over his to stop him. 

“Gifts are supposed to be after dinner, hun.” He reminds you, and you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know. But I think now is the perfect time for you to open it.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, smiling as he carefully uses a claw to cut through the tap and unfold the decorative paper. From how he opened it, he’s first revealed to the back of a canvas. On the back is your signature and the date, and his fingers trace over it before he slips it over. His breath gets caught in his throat as he stares.

It’s the painting of him that you were working on. He’s in your art room, glowing white highlighting his frame as he lays there. His face is towards the window, where snow is falling. His eyes are shiny, and the smallest smile graces his lips. He traces over each detail with his hand, smiling down at it. 

“You like it?” You ask him, your hands playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. 

He nods, turning to you and leaning up for a kiss that you gladly return. You’re smiling against his lips, and you kiss the crown of his head when you pull away. Miguel nuzzles into your neck, setting the painting down on the coffee table so he doesn’t break it when he traps you into the couch. You laugh as you fall, Miguel laying on top of you and planting kisses up and down your neck. 

“I love it, thank you.” He whispers into your skin. But then, he’s pinching your sides as he gives you a small glare. “But don’t think I didn’t notice you made me do that stupid pose for nothing!”

You burst out laughing, shoulders shaking as you throw your head back over the arm of the couch. “It wasn’t for nothing! I’ll have you know it was a great inspiration. Kept me very motivated.” 

Miguel raises a brow, a large smile on his face. “Great inspiration was it?”

You nod, smile growing bigger as you agree, “The biggest.”

Miguel hums, nodding his head before he’s tickling your sides until you can't breathe. 

“Inspirational my ass!”

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara x you #cherry's specials!🍒 #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

[sleepyhollands]

Omg can u pls do a blurb ab Demon!Harry finds Angel!Y/N being bullied by some other demons and he stops them before they go too far?? 😇😇😇

harry was just on his way home after a terribly long afternoon of making sinister deals and collecting the souls of the damned when he heard the commotion across the street. normally, it being literal hell, he wouldn’t expect much differently from the world around him, but he happened to take a fleeting glance toward the whooping laughter and mocking voices, and saw something that made him do a double take.

now, there is no place in hell for the color white, save for the teeth of the few demons who care for dental hygiene and the whites of their eyes before they’re consumed with inky blackness. so imagine harry’s surprise when he thought he spotted an array of ivory feathers, scuffed as they may be, flutter behind a wall of burly demons whose backs were turned to him. but no, that couldn’t be right… right?

call it the pull of curiosity (months later, he would call it fate), but harry felt like he should go over there, if only to confirm his suspicions. so he did.

harry walked up behind the group, quietly so as not to be heard, with his arms crossed and his jaw set. he was still many meters away, but the closer he got, the better he could hear, and suffice to say he was becoming concerned. now, harry’s all for roughing someone up— it’s quite literally in his job description, right under ‘hijacking high school slumber party ouija sessions’— but something about the whimpers of pain and pleas for mercy weren’t sitting well with him.

“please, i-i’m sorry, i don’t know how i—,” the voice cut off with a sharp cry.

was that a girl’s voice? surely they didn’t kidnap a girl from the surface? harry may be a demon, but even he had some morals.

“aw, is it scared? you scared, sweetheart?”

“how did a pretty little thing like you get all the way down here, huh? ’s like you’re beggin‘ for us to grab you by the neck and—”

“quiet, dumbass. don’t want anyone to know about this. don’t wanna have to share it, do we? fuck, we’re so fucking lucky.”

harry saw the demons shuffle around a bit, seemingly manhandling whatever girl they were tormenting. when they turned and harry’s view was no longer obstructed, his eyes widened momentarily as his wildest suspicion was confirmed. but how in satan’s name did an angel get to hell?

one of the demons had his arm wrapped around the terrified girl’s middle, his broad chest to her back, her wings crumpled in what harry assumed could only be quite painful between them, free hand clamped over her mouth. another grabbed both her wrists in one of his, squeezing tight and causing her knees to buckle as she sobbed into the first creature’s palm. harry could’ve sworn he heard a muffled “please!” from beneath it.

“the things we’re gonna do to you, doll face…,” mused one of the demons who wasn’t grabbing the angel, instead groping his crotch, squeezing and moaning, “fuck, i’m hard just thinking about it.”

their poor celestial victim’s eyes went wide with unmistakable fear, and she squirmed harder in their grasp, kicking her legs and subsequently having them restrained by the fourth and final gang member. she wasn’t touching the ground anymore, and had no more leverage to move in their grip.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here before someone—”

“what’s all this about, gentlemen?”

harry hadn’t even realized he’d come up to the edge of the scene until the demons before him shot their heads up in surprise, their leader (crotch-groper) leveling out to just about an inch shorter than him.

“harry!” he said with a grin, flashing harry his yellowing teeth as if they’d been friends for years, “what brings a demon of your standing down to this here part of hell?”

“answer the question or i’ll deliver you to lucifer myself.” harry didn’t spare the angel a glance, not wanting to alarm her further, but from the corner of his eye he could see her begin to tremble in her restraint.

crotch-groper, who harry soon recognized as lyle, a rather young and distasteful demon, clenched his jaw before responding. “found her all curled up an‘ alone in the alley. we were gonna go have some fun with her at sanjay’s, if you know what i mean. you want in? i just got a batch of new devices i haven’t had the chance to try out yet, and a fuckin‘ angel’s guaranteed to be a vir—”

“enough,” harry held up a hand to silence lyle, who only shut his mouth (albeit begrudgingly and with a huff) due to harry’s higher ranking— he really didn’t want to get reported to the boss… he quite liked his legs and wasn’t fond of the idea of them bending the other way.

harry finally took a good look at the angel, keeping his face stoic. her eyelashes and flushed cheeks glistened with tears, her body was shaking like a leaf, and she looked on the verge of hyperventilating. he couldn’t explain it, but harry found himself itching to smooth out the crease between her brows with his thumb.

he wished he could signal to her that he was handling this.

eyes meeting lyle’s again, he said, “an angel’s presence in hell is a grade six security violation. in other words, above your pay grade. she is hereby relinquished from your custody and into mine to be dealt with accordingly.”

“the fuck she is!” shouted one of the lackeys holding the girl, “we found her first!” and with so much as a tilt of his head, harry made it so his ribs snapped inwards and punctured his lungs, effectively ending the creature’s existence and his grip on the angel’s legs, allowing her to stand as he crumpled to the ground.

four pairs of eyes widened at harry, and then one of them squeezed so tightly shut he worried they might never open again.

“any more complaints, then?”

the three remaining gang members shook their heads, releasing their hold on the celestial, causing her to scrape her palms and knees on her short trip to the asphalt with a pitiful “oof!” if harry had blinked, he’d have missed their instantaneous dissipation from the scene.

fucking finally.

crouching to the ground where the innocent being was curled up into herself, harry reached out a hand to gently touch her shoulder as he began, “hey.”

but he didn’t get very far, because the second his skin made contact with her own, the girl scrambled backwards into the nearest alley wall with a gasp. dirt was collecting under her fingernails, at least one of her wings was definitely broken, she had no idea how she ended up in satan’s domain, and she was just so scared.

harry noticed how she couldn’t even look him in the face, her hands covering her own for fear he would attack her. he felt a pressure in his chest at the thought.

“’s all right, love,” he reassured. “’s all right, ’m not going t‘ hurt you.” she didn’t move an inch, so he patiently continued. “i’m harry. what do they call you?”

and while she was terribly afraid to speak to him, she was more afraid of what he might do if she continued to ignore him.

“y-y/n.”

harry smiled at the pretty name. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

y/n kept her hands in front of her face as she responded. “nice… nice to meet you too, harry.”

he thought it was endearing, really, how her manners were so ingrained into her being that she could be polite to him even now. harry wanted to move a little closer, but he didn’t want to spook her. so he asked her if she could move her hands and open her eyes.

y/n shook her head so fervently, harry worried she might give herself whiplash. “he’s still there,” she sobbed, upper body shaking with her cries.

“’s just us here, love.”

“n-no… the man. the… the one you…,” she couldn’t bring herself to say it, but harry caught on. the one you killed.

oh, right. harry had forgotten him before he’d even hit the dirt. he waved his hand and the corpse disappeared from sight.

“he’s not, promise. no one to be seen for miles.”

tentatively, y/n lowered her hands, but they still hovered over her mouth, prepared to shoot back up at any moment. her eyes opened up to him again, and this time harry could admire their beauty without having to pretend to be indifferent.

“hi,” he smiled a gentle smile, settling his palms on his knees so she could see them still and empty. “can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?”

y/n flinched at the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by harry, and it took him a few moments to understand.

“aw, is it scared? you scared, sweetheart?”

“oh. sorry, um, about those blokes. they’re right big twats, they are. they won’t bother you again.”

y/n slowly began to relax, ever so slightly. but she still had a million unanswered questions, and her guard was still way up. why was this (rather handsome) demon being so kind to her? was it true he was going to be ‘dealt with’ by him? and why… what was that warm feeling she got in her tummy each time he called her ‘love’? she figured she should start with the most important question.

“what are you going to do with me?”

harry could literally feel the fear flowing through her veins, could practically hear her thoughts running a mile a minute. his face softened.

“well. first, we’re gonna have to take care of those wings, and any other injuries you may have. after that, we’ll try to find a way to get you home.”

y/n didn’t look convinced. “you’re… you’re not gonna… lock me away?”

“did you commit a crime in heaven? did you sin?”

“no…,” y/n tried to think back, tried to remember the moments before she wound up in hell, but it was like she was missing part of her memories. “i-i don’t think so.”

harry stood up, wiping his palms on his trousers and holding out a hand to help her up. “well, then there you are. it might be hard to believe, but there is a system for punishment in satan’s kingdom, too. if you haven’t done anything, we’ll get you right on home.” he didn’t say it aloud, but a small part of his heart twinged at the idea of letting her leave.

why was that?

y/n gratefully took his hand, but wasn’t able to help pull herself up. she was too weak, and her whole body ached. she figured she was only feeling it now from the passing of adrenaline as harry helped her relax. a whine tumbled from her lips as she struggled to stand.

“here,” harry spoke in a quiet voice. he stepped closer to her, and on instinct she shied away. he paused for a second, opening up his palms and facing them upwards as he approached to show he meant no harm. “y‘ can’t walk, love. let me help.”

hesitantly, the angel nodded, and harry swooped down to pick her up under the knees and shoulders. a small squeak escaped her lips as he pulled her off the ground, and he cooed, “i’ve got you. i’ll be careful.”

once she was securely in his arms, y/n asked the next biggest question on her mind.

“why are you helping me, harry?”

harry looked down at her big doe eyes, subconsciously pleading for him to protect her from the unknown horrors of this underworld she’s never hoped to find herself in. her small fists gripped his shirt like a vice, crinkling the well-pressed material, though harry found he didn’t mind.

“well,” he breathed, “this isn’t your home. and you’re hurt. and i know if i was confused and alone in a scary new place, i’d want some help, too.” then, to lighten the mood a bit, he added, “though, truthfully, it’d be hard to get me to admit it.”

y/n mirrored his small smile, uttering a breathy, “thank you.” her fingers still clung to his shirt just as tightly, but she relaxed enough to let her head fall to rest against his collarbones, and harry counted that as a small victory.

his wings, long and dark and somewhat ashy, extended fully behind him, and began wrapping themselves around the sweet girl in his arms, a barrier between her and the dark secrets of hell. then, generating no noise or wind as though nothing had occurred at all, the pair dissipated from sight.

taglist: @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

and also @cherryjuiceblues <3 :D

#this was supposed to be a short little blurb what have i done #harry styles #blurbs #request #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles blurb request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader angst

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Lilia, Epel: Blessing Givers, Curse Breaker

Lilia’s vignettes continue to be gold! He “humble” brags about how his voice is great, he’s sooo adorable, and such an ikemen… (Apparently he realized he was cute because people would give him free stuff and help on his travels and when he first came to NRC!) Best part was definitely when Lilia described cooking for his dorm members and they were “so touched” that they bowed their heads, covered their faces, and/or cried 💀 NOT THEM PUTTING A PICTURE OF MALEFICENT DRAGON FORM ON LILIA'S BIRTHDAY CARD… His vignettes also mention having the strength to overcome “a curse” 😭 Cruel reminders of the tragedy that unfolded in his past, and bis unfulfilled search for a cure for Silver... TWST devs, you sickos/j

A Tale as Old as Time.

Three fairies crowded around a cradle, its curtained hood up to obscure the infant within. Green, pink, blue—each was dressed in a particular color. They glanced at the baby and at each other, mouths agape to discuss their blessings.

Safeguarded within the platinum frame was a celebration of life and a future yet to be told. The fragile start of a brand new story.

Lilia wanted to protect it himself.

“Looks like some fancy shindig.” The remark came from Epel, who gazed upon the same painting. "Erm... I mean, party. That is what it is, right...?"

"They've come to bestow gifts upon a newborn princess. Royal affairs can be a bit stiff, I'm afraid. Can't even show up to one without an invitation! Some hosts are just sticklers for tradition and protocol."

"Oh, I got it!" Epel visibly perked, cheeks appling with pink. "It's a different kind of gathering. Back home in Harveston, they're a lot more informal. Family and all the neighbors coming by with plates of warm food, a makeshift band and folks dancing, catching up by the fire... It's so lively."

Lilia’s lip curled, the corners lifting into a slight smile. "It's good to know that your hometown hasn't lost its charm."

"You've visited before?"

"Once, long ago," the ancient fae chuckled, "when I was still a stubborn and stony-faced youth. The people of Harveston opened their hearts and offered hospitality. From what you've told me, it's clear that the very same spirit from then persists to this day."

"Gosh, really?" Epel puffed up at that, as though he were a peacock flaunting his feathers. "Hehe, wellll, Harveston does have a way of makin' ya feel cozy and right at home, even if yer far away from it!"

"That it does." Lilia's eyes traced the wall of artwork before him. The colors, shapes, and textures. "Twisted Wonderland is so vast and diverse. I've traveled far and wide, experienced a great deal of cultures, yet I always find myself anchored to that one special place called home. There is no comfort like it."

There’s no place like home.

A twinge pulsated in his chest. The pain, marring the nostalgic warmth he bathed in. Lilia did not let it show—not to his underclassman, not this child that stared at him with such eagerness.

He swallowed.

“How do you celebrate in Briar Valley?” Epel asked. “Can you tell me about your traditions too?”

“Kufufu. You’re keen on learning, I see.”

“I didn’t always. I’m sure if you asked Vil, he’d give you a mouthful about how ‘uppity’ and ‘full of myself’ I was at first.” Epel groaned at the thought of another lecture from his dorm leader. “… But recently, I’ve been thinkin’ it’s not too bad to hear about how others experience everything.

“Meemaw—my grandma—goes to the city to sell our farm’s produce. She has to switch up how she talks to speak to the locals. I noticed our mayor too, when he talks to tourists. So learning about new people and cultures can’t be a bad thing.”

Epel’s eyes were wide, sparkling with wanderlust. Wistful and longing for the world that awaited him.

Perhaps Lilia had worn the same expression before, at the moment of his epiphany. When had he realized it? When the elderly couple had draped a blanket over him, when they shared a meal, when they spun him the stories of their lives, or when he sat at the cradle and relived those times to a still dormant Malleus?

The warmth in him expanded, like a gulp of soup trickling down his throat, then splashing in his stomach. It had been a humble broth of vegetables, and yet it satisfied him down to the last drop.

“We’re really not so different,” Lilia explained with a grin. “Food and friends are all you need to have a good time wherever you are.

“However, if you are particularly fortunate, you just may have a guardian fairy descend and give you blessings as well.” He indicated the painting of the three fairies hovering over a cradle. “Like so. I believe this infant was gifted with song, beauty, and…”

“Song and beauty?!” Epel’s expression crinkled. “Who decided on those, the parents?”

“The guardian fairies themselves. They choose what they believe will bring the blessed child happiness.”

“They could’ve given the kid something more…” Epel vaguely waved a hand. “I don’t know, useful? Why not strength so they won’t lose any fights? I’d be happy with some more muscle of my own…”

Lilia laughed, soft and low like a midnight whisper. “Why not indeed.”

Because time steals away everything eventually, hissed a voice in his head. The truth, bare and bitter.

The edges of Lilia’s vision quivered. A memory resurfaced—blink, and he saw himself in the frame, his long shadow cast over the crib. Blink, and that was Silver nestled in the fabric. Blink, and the castle was abandoned and covered in thorns.

A fairy robbing a crib of its cursed child.

“Strength is good to have,” Lilia said slowly, “but it will not last forever. Not many things do.”

Still… If I could have one wish, it would be…

The only force able to break the spell set upon Silver. The one feeling he was certain he was incapable of. A love so pure and honest, it was known to be true.

Something he wasn’t worthy of.

True love.

Not him. Not the grimy, low-born bat of a dubious past—as his most unkind of thoughts would insist.

He was the same as them. He had condemned Silver to walking in the night, had made the decision for him. The instant his hair had turned from pale sunshine to the moonlight of his namesake, it was too late to unwind the clock.

Which had he cast—blessing or curse?

The longer he looked at the painting, the more mocking the gentle, rounded faces of the guardian fairies seemed to become. Guiltless, oblivious beings, they were.

They would never know of his plight.

Lilia scoffed. “If the fairies wanted the child to be happy, they should have granted them that strength.”

That which was impossible for him.

"The power to overcome a curse.”

"... The power to overcome a curse, huh?" Epel quietly mused. "Not even Vil-senpai has that kind of strength--and his unique magic is to cast curses! Until the conditions are fulfilled, it can't be broken."

"That's the trouble with curses," Lilia agreed. "They're finicky, depending on how they're woven. Some may even last a lifetime without ever being lifted. Others may spend their own lives seeking out cures."

The story of his life. He was always searching for something, something, something. Lost friends, how to hatch a dragon's egg, true love to dispel drowsiness.

Now, a happy ending.

Lilia released a sigh through his nose.

If only.

"Well, if magic can't make that wish come true... we'll just have to make it a reality ourselves, won't we?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #twst imagines #twst scenarios #Epel Felmier #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #spoilers #something no one asked for #Lilia birthday takeover #the title is a reference to an Equestria Girls song www

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Changeling Boyfriend

A/N: This is a mostly complete, somewhat somber yandere story with some complicated emotions, flawed characters, and NSFW parts. I'll post the parts over a couple of days to not spam

Changeling (Clark) x Flower nymph f Reader

General Plot: You wake up in a strange place and meet a friendly changeling who is happy to help you adjust to your new home

TW: future nsfw, domestic violence, isekai, yandere, jealousy, fairy prejudices

Word Count: 6k

Next part will be posted soon.

You woke with a start, your eyes flying around the room you were in. This wasn’t your bedroom. Bolting upright, you took in the space you were in frantically. The walls were roughly hewn boards sealed with grout. You were lying on a lumpy feather mattress under a thread-worn quilt. A small woodstove in the corner warmed the room with a few dying coals. 

“Where? What?” you murmured, confused. 

Looking down, you realized you wore a long blue dress with a bow collar. It was simple but fit you well and was a pretty contrast to your skin. 

This was not your home. These were not your clothes. The last thing you remembered you’d gone to bed in your pajamas. You pinched your wrist, wondering if this was a dream, but no matter how hard you pinched, you didn’t wake up. 

Something smelled of jasmine, and you patted your hair, finding it wasn’t braided as you usually did before bed. It was also much longer than it had been, and vines of jasmine were worked through it. The length fell to just above your bottom in luxurious, thick piles. Trying to pluck one of the pieces of jasmine out, you winced as it stung, a drop of blood forming on the cut tip. The jasmine was growing out of your head! 

You hurried to your feet, hoping to find a mirror. There was a small bathroom with a metal tub, washbowl, and chipped mirror. Blinking at yourself, you found that you were still you. You had the same features as you’d gone to bed with, the same skin, only now you had jasmine winding through your hair. Pretty silver hair cuffs decorated with little pearls and shells shined in the candlelight.  Glancing at the tub, you found a few colorful bottles of oils, pots of cream, and a cake of soap that smelled like shea butter. 

You jumped at a large banging from nearby and hurried out of the bathroom. Making your way through the small one-story cottage, you opened the heavy wood door. A man was standing in front of you. He was quite tall, with dark, blue-black hair that was braided down his back and smokey gray eyes. Two pointed ears peeked out from the loose strands of his hair. 

“Good morning (Y/N)!” he said with a smile. 

“Do I know you?” you asked, utterly confused. 

You peeked past him at the forest surrounding the house. A field of beautiful flowers and juicy vegetables was enjoying the sunshine, butting up to a thick woodland. The man’s brow drew, and he looked at you more closely. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked. 

You shook your head. 

“I don’t know you…or…this,” you stammered, waving your hand at the field of flowers. “Where am I?” 

The man’s eyebrows jumped, and he looked around nervously before pushing past you into the house. 

“Are you playing a joke, (Y/N)?” he asked. 

You shook your head. 

“I went to bed somewhere else and woke up here,” you explained. “I have no idea who you are.” 

He frowned. 

“Oh my,” he hummed. “Have you met anyone other than me?” 

You shook your head. 

“I only woke up a few moments ago,” you said. 

“And all of this is new to you,” he finished your sentence, and you nodded. 

He moved around the small house as if looking for someone, finally coming back to you. 

“I think someone has bewitched you,” he finally concluded. 

You shook your head, confused. Bewitched? What the hell did that mean? 

“Bewitched? Magic isn’t real,” you scoffed. “Who are you anyway?” 

His head jerked back.

“You…don’t know magic?” he asked. 

You shook your head, and his nicely curved lips formed a thin line. 

“You came from somewhere else than Merida?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“I’m from (Y/C),” you said. 

“(Y/C)?” he grunted, rubbing his chin again. 

“Who…are you?” you asked again. 

“Sorry, I’m Clark. You and I have been…friends for many years,” he said. 

“How did I get here?” you asked. “Where is here?” 

He sat down heavily at the small table in the kitchen area. You could see the gears turning in his head as he worked through some inner puzzle. 

"You are in the province of Merida," he explained. "This little village is Alliet." 

Your mind was spinning, and you felt dizzy. 

Clark suddenly stood and helped you to a chair before pumping a cup of water out of a hand pump tap. 

"Here," he said. "Have a drink before you pass out. This must be quite a shock." 

Trembling, you lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip. The water tasted fresh and sweet. 

"Wh-who am I?" you gasped. "My hair is…different…" 

He gave you a half smile. 

"I suppose the answer to that question is not so much who but what," he said, rubbing his chin. "Does your world have flower nymphs?" 

Your eyes widened. 

"In fairy tales, not in real life," you said. 

"Well, here, flower nymphs are an essential part of the economy," he said, pointing out the window to the lush garden. "You cultivate all of those flowers and sell essences and stems in the village." 

"I don't know anything about flowers," you said. 

"Yes…" he hummed. "Though your magic is still intact, I'm sure. You haven't lost your blooms." 

He nodded to the vines of jasmine falling over your shoulders. 

"How…how do I get back?" You asked, clutching the clay cup in your hand. "I can't stay here." 

A flash of recognition flared in his eyes, but he looked away. 

"I'm afraid you can't," he said. "A soul-swapping spell can only be done once. If people could come and go at will…it could be chaos. Whoever did the spell did it at great expense to themselves. Usually, they require a sacrifice." 

You gasped. 

"Who would have done something like that?" you asked. 

He blinked at you and then shrugged. 

"The other (Y/N) is the most likely culprit," he said. "Perhaps she had something she wished to escape." 

"But what?" you asked. "You said you were friends. You must know-" 

He held up his hand. 

"I cannot guess why she would have done that. Perhaps she simply wanted to experience something new. But that's not the issue at hand…the key issue here is that you need to be introduced to this world," he said, sliding a chair next to you and sitting down. "I'm happy to help." 

You chewed your bottom lip, completely at a loss. If Clark was willing to help you, you were sure you should let him. He said he was the old (Y/N)'s friend. 

"Aren't you sad?" you asked. "You lost your friend. She ran away!" 

He sighed and gave you a sad smile. 

"The old (Y/N) was always troubled. I'm sorry it is at your expense, but I'm glad she found where she wanted to be," he said. "I hope your world is all she dreamed it would be." 

You blinked at him, wondering if you should tell him that Texas was not exactly a paradise. She would probably end up in a hospital if she ran around trying to do magic.

Deciding not to, you got straight to business. "I guess if I'm trapped here, I should learn how things work," you sighed. "I don't expect you to help me for free. You don't know me. I'm sure I can find something to trade." 

His hand raised, and his thumb brushed your cheek. 

"I don't mind helping you," he said. "The village is rather boring, and I'd like to honor my friend."  

"I'll find something for you," you assured him, but he only gave you a bemused smile. 

"First things first, we ought to reintroduce you to the village," he said. "This is a small town. People will notice you are not the same. It's best to be direct. We’ll start at the doctor and make sure the soul transfer didn't harm you in any way." 

He stood, but you winced a bit. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "In pain?" 

"No," you sighed. "Just nervous." 

He gave you a wide smile, revealing pointed teeth. 

"Do not be worried," he said. "I'll help you along." 

He held out a hand to you, and you took it. His fingers were long and strong with black nails. 

"Um…can I ask you something?" you asked as the two of you walked down a dirt path leading away from the house you woke up in. 

"You can ask me anything," he said. 

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?" you asked. 

He chuckled. 

"Of course, you would wonder," he said. "I’m a changeling.” 

You blinked at him. 

“Oh…I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means,” you said. 

He smirked. 

“I’m a type of fae,” he said, and before your eyes, his body morphed into something that looked like an orc, then a wolfman, then back to himself. “I change shape.” 

You gasped, blinking in disbelief. 

“Was that real?” you asked, forgetting yourself entirely and pinching his cheek. 

It felt like normal warm flesh. He gave you a playful smile, pinching your cheek back. 

“Yes, that’s all me,” he said. “I’m also a mage.” 

He held his palm up to the sky, and black fire burst from it. You jumped, squealing, and he quickly put it out. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. This must all be very strange and new, hm?” 

You nodded and gave him a wan smile. 

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. 

You looked down at your hands. 

“Can I make black fire?” you asked, and he chuckled. 

“No, no, you are a simple nature spirit,” he explained. “Not to diminish your value. You are extremely valuable; every town wants flower, tree, and water nymphs, but your magic is limited to growing plants and blooming flowers. Most villages take your protection to heart as nature spirits aren’t common and are very delicate.” 

“Oh,” you said, not sure how to process that information. “I don’t feel particularly magical.” 

“It will come to you,” he assured you, taking your hand. 

The sound of people laughing and the creaking of carriages drifted through the trees, and soon you were walking through what looked like a quaint medieval village. Your heart pounded as Clark led you through the hustle and bustle, and you squeezed his fingers. He glanced down at your joined hands, his lips parting before he returned his gaze to the road. 

“Morning (Y/N)!” a man with horns curving over his ears and hooves for feet shouted. 

You gave him a wary wave, not wanting to be rude. Clark winked at you. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Once we visit the doctor, word will spread quickly.”

As you walked through the village, magical beings you’d only seen in storybooks went about their day. Fairies with gossamer wings fluttered about, and you even saw a centaur unloading crates off a cart. Clark stopped in front of a little shop with a heart on the sign. 

“Here we are,” he said, nudging you inside with a hand on your waist. 

You noted that the office was very messy, with books and scrolls filling the tables and shelves. 

“Doctor Meriel!” Clark called deeper into the building. 

“Be right there!” a female voice shouted, and a few moments later, a tall, lithe woman with pointy ears and pink skin appeared. 

Her white hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head. If you had to guess, based on your knowledge of fantasy books, you’d guess she was an elf. 

“Oh, hello (Y/N),” she said, then glanced at Clark.

Her eyes drifted down to your hands entwined, and she frowned slightly.

“Clark... Is everything okay?”

“I think we should speak in an examination room,” he said, and she nodded, waving him back. 

This room was spotless compared to the front office. Clark nodded for you to sit on the examination table, and he turned his attention to the doctor. 

“(Y/N) has gone through a soul swap,” he explained. “This (Y/N) comes from…”

He looked at you. 

“(Y/Country),” you filled in. 

Dr. Meriel’s mouth fell open, and she hurried over to you, her lips forming a deep grimace. 

“Oh dear,” she hummed, looking you over. “That can be jarring on the body. Who would have done such a thing?” 

She pulled a wand out of her coat, and the tip glowed. 

“Follow the light,” she said, holding it in front of your eyes. 

You followed her directions as she examined your vision, ears, and throat. 

“My guess is our (Y/N),” he said, and she turned to look at him, an eyebrow raising. 

“You don’t suppose it was because of Harri?” she asked. 

Clark shrugged. 

“Who is Harri?” you asked. 

Dr. Meriel gave you a worried look. 

“Um…he used to be a member of our village. He left for the capital to join the King’s guard,” she explained. “Goddess bless us. I certainly hope he stays there.” 

“Why?” you asked, and her mouth opened and closed.

She and Clark exchanged a glance. 

“Harri…isn’t a nice fellow,” Clark explained. “But you don’t need to be worried about him. He’s gone.” 

“Oh,” you said, wondering why they all seemed so concerned. “I’m sorry.” 

They both looked at you, miffed. 

“Why are you sorry?” Clark asked. 

You wrinkled your dress under your fingers, your eyes getting a little misty. 

“I feel like the other (Y/N) was well-loved,” you said. “I feel like I stole her from you.” 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dr. Meriel said, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Don’t think that, dear. Of course, I’m sad that she is gone, but it’s not your fault. In fact, I’m a little angry with her. She forced you into a soul swap against your will. It…doesn’t seem like something she would do…but perhaps she felt desperate. It was not fair to drop you into this world so abruptly. Many people don’t handle that shift well. People go mad, convinced their world isn’t real. It can…get messy. What she did was quite cruel.” 

“Am I going to go crazy?” you asked, and she gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“I think if you’ve gotten this far and not melted down, you should be okay,” she said. “Most people lose it the moment they are presented with an entirely new world. However, if you begin feeling…off…please return. There are therapies we can try to help.” 

“Is she okay…physically?” Clark asked. 

Dr. Meriel sighed. 

“Yes, she appears to be perfectly fine,” she said. “I’ll inform the mayor that we will be welcoming a new (Y/N) into our town. It’s best you take things slow. Don’t try to do too much all at once. The last thing she needs is more stress. Perhaps save the introductions until the village has been informed of her…condition.” 

Clark nodded and helped you off of the examination table. 

“You can come back to my house, and we can have lunch,” he said. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you said to the elf before Clark shuffled you outside. 

“(Y/N)!” a cheerful orcess squealed the minute your feet touched the cobblestone of the main avenue. 

She picked you up and spun you around in her arms. 

“I was just at your house!” she said, glancing behind you at the clinic. “Is something wrong? Are you hurt?” 

You looked up at the tall female, her thick dark hair falling over her shoulder and her head shaved close on one side. 

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-” you mumbled, not sure what to say. 

You had no idea who this person was, but they obviously knew the old (Y/N) very well. 

“Neia!” Clark said. “This…this isn’t (Y/N). Well, the (Y/N) you knew.”

Neia’s brow furrowed, and her face took on a thunderous look. 

“What the hell does that mean?” she barked, her large fists on her hips. “(Y/N) and I have been friends since we were kids. You know that. I think I know what my best friend looks like.” 

Clark put a hand on her arm. 

“Dr. Meriel was going to announce it to the town all at once, but the old (Y/N) performed a soul swap,” he said. “I’m sorry Neia, the (Y/N) you knew is gone.” 

Neia’s mouth fell open, and her eyes grew shiny. 

“That’s not true! You’re joking,” she turned to you, and you trembled under her gaze. “You know me! Tell me you know me!” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your feet. “I’ve never met you before. I don’t really understand where I am.” 

Neia’s face fell.

“But…I’m your best friend,” she said, her voice scratchy with tears. “You wouldn’t…she wouldn’t do that without telling me!” 

“I’m sorry Neia,” Clark said gently. “That’s the way it is.” 

Her eyes narrowed on him, frowning. 

“(Y/N) would never do that,” she said, crossing her arms. “It couldn’t be. Someone else did this to her!” 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’d go back if I knew how, I promise.”

She blinked at you, her face softening slightly. 

“I-I’m sorry…I- this is probably terrifying for you…” she hummed, brushing a large hand over your head. “I just…I can’t believe-” 

Again, her gold eyes focused on Clark, full of mistrust. 

“I don’t believe (Y/N) would do that herself, Clark. I don’t buy it for a second,” she snapped. “Goddess, bless whoever the culprit is when I find them!” 

“We all just have to get used to it,” he said, shortly. “I miss (Y/N) too, but think of her feelings. This is all new to her. Please treat her kindly.” 

Neia huffed. 

“Of course I’m going to treat her kindly,” she hissed, then looked down at you, lifting your drooping chin with a finger. “You ought to come home with me.” 

She glared at Clark, then glanced at you, holding out a hand. 

“You shouldn’t be left alone with him,” she said. “My family knew the old (Y/N) well and can care for you. This one can’t be trusted!” 

You blinked at her, not sure what to say. You knew nothing about the social life of the old (Y/N). Would she have mistrusted Clark as well? You had no way of knowing except that the doctor hadn’t seemed concerned that you were together. 

“I don’t want to be rude,” you muttered, “but I don’t know you.” 

Her head snapped back as if you’d slapped her. 

“How long have you known him?” she asked. “A few hours at most?” 

“I-um…” you mumbled, unsure what to say. 

“You’ll get plenty of time with her,” Clark hissed. “She’s only just arrived, and you’re confusing her! The doctor said to keep introductions minimal until she’s informed the town. You’re not questioning Dr. Meriel, are you? She left her in my charge.” 

Neia frowned but pointed a finger at Clark. 

“You’re lucky Dr. Meriel is a kind soul, or I would carry her back with me on my shoulder,” she snapped. “If I catch you mistreating her, I won’t hesitate to end you. Doctor’s orders or not.” 

“Um…thank you for your concern,” you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. “And…I’m sorry for your loss.” 

Neia gave you a sad smile. 

“Still a kind nymph, even from another universe,” she murmured. 

She shouldered past Clark, sure to knock him over with her bulk. He looked after her, annoyed, as he brushed himself off, getting to his feet. 

“Damn orcess,” he muttered under his breath. 

“She doesn’t seem to like you much,” you pointed out. 

He sighed and drew up a smile for you. 

“Changelings aren’t well-liked,” he said. “It’s a stereotype that we’re all spies and thieves. Neia always hated me. We’ve all grown up together…but her parents told her I was bad when her dad found me in the woods the same day she lost her younger sister during birth and…well, the legend is changelings steal babies. It’s all nonsense.” 

“I guess racism exists everywhere,” you sighed, feeling sad. “It must have been so hard to grow up as an orphan.” 

He gave you a long, gentle look. 

“Yes…it was difficult,” he agreed. “But that’s enough sad stories. I owe you lunch.” 

He pulled you by your hand through back allies, avoiding any more villagers, until you reached a small castle, much grander than any of the other buildings. It was built with bright blue stone, and people wandered around the courtyard doing chores dressed in navy uniforms. 

“This is where you live?” you asked, and he smiled as he pulled you through the front door. 

“Built it myself,” he said. “Being a mage is a rather prolific occupation.” 

“It’s beautiful,” you commented. 

He led you into the foyer, which was decorated with lovely, carved wood furniture and large tapestries depicting mythical beasts. You stopped at one, brushing your fingers over the gold threads. 

“This is all like it’s out of a dream,” you murmured. 

You felt the heat of Clark’s chest behind you and his arms wrapped around you. 

“I wish I could make it easier for you,” he said quietly, kissing the top of your head. 

You sucked in a breath, and the scent of incense filled your lungs. 

“You smell nice,” you murmured, and he gave you a squeeze before pulling you by your hand to what must have been the dining room. 

“What sort of things do you eat at home?” he asked, and you thought for a moment. 

“Most everything,” you said. “Meat and vegetables, rice, bread…the normal stuff, I guess.” 

He nodded and grinned. 

“Got it,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. 

A few moments later, the scent of roasted meat drifted to you, and a short man emerged with two plates full of what looked like a roasted bird and some toasted roots. 

“That was so fast,” you commented. “But it looks delicious.” 

“Magic,” he said as he took his seat nearby. 

The man bowed to him silently and disappeared. You looked down at the food, unsure where to start. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, frowning. 

You shook your head and blushed. 

“Is…is it okay to eat food with magic in it?” you asked, and he blinked at you before bursting into laughter. 

“There’s no magic in it,” he chuckled. “I just used magic to make it cook faster. It’s very safe. I’d never feed you something that would harm you, (Y/N).” 

You nodded, feeling rude. 

“Of course, you wouldn’t,” you said, taking a bite of the chicken. 

It was delicious, seasoned with rosemary. 

“Thank you so much for all your kindness,” you hummed, feeling happier the fuller your belly got. 

He gazed at you with a smile on his face. 

“I’ve waited so long to spoil you,” he murmured, and you blinked at him. 

“You have?” you asked, and he straightened, appearing as if he hadn’t meant to say that. 

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, then changed the subject. “I’ve been wanting to visit the capital to do some business. Perhaps you’d like to join me and see more of the countryside?” 

You had nowhere else to be and were curious to learn more about this land, especially what a city looked like. This little town was very different than what you were used to. You also felt very anxious about meeting more of the town, based on how Neia had reacted to you. The people already knew and loved the old (Y/N); you were simply an imposter. 

When lunch was finished, he showed you the many rooms of his mansion, seeming especially proud of his laboratory. 

“This is amazing,” you gasped, looking at the glowing liquids in glass vials. 

He had a real-life cauldron, bubbling away with something smelly inside. The notes he had posted to the wall were written in some strange language. You paused on a small painting sitting on the desk. It was of you. 

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing to the picture, and he blushed. 

“Oh…just a painting I had made long ago,” he hummed. “When I was an orphan, you were my only friend. Nymphs survive rather independently in the old wood. It’s a different place than the forests near our homes. We met when I was hiding from Neia and Harri, and I brought you into town. Convincing the younger you to stay was my path to acceptance in this village. Otherwise, I would have forever been an outsider.” 

“Why did you have to convince me?” you asked, and he sighed. 

“Um…it’s a little complicated. As I said, nymphs can survive easily in the old wood. The animals see you as a flower or a tree and are quite fond of you. That’s where most nymphs stay,” he explained. “They don’t like fussing around with our affairs. Convincing one to move into town and using their magic to support the economy is…challenging. 

You do more for us than we could ever do for you, and you have much more to lose by our hands. The earth, the water, and the forest are filled with wild magic and difficult to tame. Those who venture into the old wood, rarely return. Though I can heat food and conjur fire, I can’t make a meadow bloom or trees bear fruit. No spell I can perform will bring a fruitful harvest or cleanse a poisoned well. Only you can do that sort of magic. Nymphs bring food, plentiful game, and clean, fresh water. Some would capture you and try to force you to do their bidding.” 

“Oh,” you said, chewing your lip nervously. 

“Why did I stay?” you asked, and he smiled wistfully. 

“I’d like to think it was for me,” he said softly, “but I probably will never know the reason. Many things happened since you moved in. It would be hard to explain in a sitting, but that’s enough talk of a past you will never truly understand. We must think of the future now.” 

He hustled you out of his laboratory and out of a rear door, heading down a small path. 

“Where are we headed now?” you asked. 

“To your home,” he said. “You ought to pack. I was thinking we could leave tomorrow.” 

“What about the villagers?” you asked. 

He shrugged, looking away. 

“They don’t deserve you,” he muttered, looking bashful again as if he hadn’t meant to say that. “It will be fine,” he finally decided. “This is about you. Not them. They’ve had years with the old (Y/N). You must choose on your own if you would like to stay. Don’t feel pressured because they want you to be her. You are your own person with your own needs. You may like the capital or wish to return to the wood.” 

He stopped at your front door. 

“I need to go home and make some preparations,” he said. “Pack whatever you like; there is plenty of room for your belongings. We’ll be gone a month at least.” 

You nodded and smiled at Clark. 

“Thank you for your guidance,” you said. “I know Neia had bad things to say about you, but I appreciate your patience with me.” 

He gave you a somewhat sad smile and then folded his body down to peck you on the cheek. 

“Pack and then have a good rest,” he said before turning to head back towards his mansion. “I’ll come get you in the morning.” 

You spent the evening sorting through the old (Y/N)’s belongings. They were simple enough, clothes, potions for your skin and hair, combs, and other utilitarian items. You hoped you’d find a journal or some other diary to learn more about her, but there was nothing like that. 

By the time the sun set, you’d filled a bag with the clothes you’d found in a chest and whatever pots and bottles seemed useful. 

You were just about to lay down for bed when you heard the front door open. Heavy footsteps moved through the front room, and scared, you hid in the small closet. 

“(Y/N)?” you heard a heavy voice ask. It was not Clark’s, but deeper and more raspy. 

Whoever it was moved through the house slowly before a dark figure blocked the light from your bedroom. A large hand jerked you out of the closet, pulling you into the light. 

“Why are you hiding from your own fiance?” the stranger demanded in a sharp bark that made you tremble.

He was much larger than Clark, with gold skin. Shaggy blonde hair fell to his whiskered jaw. Blue eyes bore down on you. Though he was unnaturally large and wide, he looked rather human. 

“Who…who are you?” you gasped. 

He smelled awful, like sweat and burnt tires. 

Your question seemed to infuriate him. 

“What game are you playing (Y/N)?” he shouted, tossing you to the floor. “Hurry up and start some dinner, you stupid wench. I’m starving!” 

“Don’t throw me around, asshole!” you huffed at the man, pulling yourself to your feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but no one calls me out my name! Get the fuck out of my house!” 

The man loomed over you, looking furious. His gold skin turned red with rage. He jerked you up in his grasp, tossing you easily into the kitchen. Your shoulder hit the stove, making you shout as pain shot up your arm. 

“Don’t talk back to me, woman!” he snarled, stomping towards you. “I see you haven’t been properly disciplined since I left!”

A heavy hand came down on your cheek, making you see stars. 

“Keep arguing, and you’ll get worse!” he snarled, marching out of the room. 

You had no idea who this man was and didn’t appreciate getting tossed around and beaten. The moment he turned his back, you fled, wiggling out of the kitchen window. It was hard to find in the dark, but you managed to locate the path that Clark had walked you down from his house, sprinting down it. 

When you reached the blue stone building, you banged on the front door, frantically looking over your shoulder to ensure you hadn’t been followed. 

“Miss?” the short man from before asked, dressed in his pajamas when he opened the door. 

“Please, I need help!” you gasped, your cheek and shoulder still aching. “Some man showed up at my house and started tossing me around!” 

His eyes narrowed, and he glanced over your shoulder, hustling you inside. When you were past the threshold, he was certain to drop the large piece of wood that barred the door. 

“Come with me, Miss,” he said. “I’ll wake the master.” 

He set you on a plush couch in the living room and brought you a glass of something that smelled alcoholic. 

“Some brandy to help with the pain,” he said, his eyes dropping on your swollen cheek, then scurried away into the dark house.

A few minutes later, Clark came rushing in, picking you up and examining you from head to foot. 

“Harri came home, didn’t he?” he snarled, looking just as furious as the strange man. “Bastard must have failed his entrance exam.” 

“I don’t know who he was!” you gasped, tears leaking down your cheeks. “He said he was my fiance then slapped me. I climbed out of the kitchen window.” 

“Shhh, shh,” he said, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you toward his laboratory. “I’ve got something to help. I won't let him get to you.” 

He set you down on a chair while he gingerly examined your cheek with his fingers. 

“Who was he?” you asked as he looked through his potions for the right one. 

Clark took a few minutes before he answered. 

“Harri is the mayor’s son,” he said through gritted teeth. “He got it in his head you were meant for him and moved in. The old (Y/N) was incredibly kind. Instead of abandoning the town and escaping to the forest, she accepted him into her home, thinking if she gave him what he wanted, he’d be…kinder…I suppose. They had some sort of…silly moment when they were children that made her heart soft to him. She thought he was a misunderstood malcontent, not the abusive man he is.”

“Then why wasn’t he here when I woke up?” you asked. 

His cool fingers spread a spicy-smelling gel on your cheek. 

“He decided he was good enough for the King’s guard, and he went to take the examination,” he said. “My guess is he failed and came home in a bad mood.” 

“No one stopped him from abusing the old (Y/N)?” you asked, and he looked solemn. 

“He’s not the way he is with you with the rest of the town,” he grumbled. “They see a charismatic, charming man. He hides his temper well, and (Y/N) covered for him. He and Neia are very close. (Y/N) refused to let me…do anything about it. Only Doctor Meriel and I knew because she often treated the old (Y/N)’s bruises. She thought she loved him. She thought she could fix him. The whole town supported the match. They were going to be married when he was accepted into the guard.” 

“Is that why she soul-swapped me?” you asked, and he gave you a long look as if he were thinking deeply about something. “To get away from him without upsetting the town?” 

“Yes, that is likely,” he said but didn’t elaborate. 

“Well, I don’t want to be married to him,” you said, tears filling your eyes again.

“Where else does it hurt?” he asked, looking down. 

You rolled up your sleeve, and he also applied the soothing gel to your shoulder. 

“I won’t let him have you,” he muttered, gazing into your eyes with his stormy irises. 

You heard a banging and winced. 

“Stay here,” he said sharply, and before your eyes dissolved into a puff of smoke. 

You couldn’t just sit there waiting for something to happen, so you hurried back down to the first floor, peering out of one of the windows. Clark was standing in front of him, preventing him from entering

“Hand over my wife, changeling!” Harri barked at Clark.”I know you have her!” 

You would have been frightened to stare down such a massive man, but he seemed unmoved. 

“She’s not your wife,” he snapped back. “(Y/N) knows nothing of you. She doesn’t love you, and I’m sure she hates you after tonight.” 

“Of course she loves me,” Harri hissed. “She’s always loved me! You’re just bitter she didn’t pick you! Bring her out before I break the door down!”

“She came here to hide from you,” he said. “She doesn’t want to go back. You ought to drop this before you get hurt.” 

“Like you could hurt me!” Harri boomed, pulling a heavy sword from the sheath strapped to his back. “I’ve already called the town guard. It’s only a matter of time before we chase you out!” 

Clark chuckled. 

“You know she soul-swapped herself to get away from you,” he said, smug. “The (Y/N) you’ve abused tonight has no memory of the accident that tied you together. The old one left you for another world so she’d never have to see you again.” 

At that, Harri looked hurt before his face returned to a stony grimace.

“You have a lot of nerve calling it an “accident.” Just another one of your lies! All you’ve ever done is lie! I’ve told my father we ought to chase you out, and now I have a reason. This town should have never accepted a filthy changeling to start with!” 

Suddenly Clark morphed into a version of Harri, right down to his big sword. 

"You have a lot of nerve calling it an 'accident'," He jeered, parroting the real Harri's words. "You're just sour your own pitiful attempt to chase me out blew up in your face! The accident was letting you live! You've lost, just accept it."

Harri charged him, sword raised, and before your eyes, Clark transformed into some creature you’ve never seen before. It looked like a ghost floating above the ground but was solid. Long gnarled fingers were tipped with massive claws, and his mouth was impossibly wide, filled with razor-sharp teeth. His red eyes glowed, seeming eager for the fight.  

He easily knocked the sword Harri was clutching out of his hand, long claws slicing his skin like butter. 

You gasped as blood sprayed into the dirt, and the hulk fell to the ground, still hanging on to enough of his pride to glare at his enemy. 

“The town guard is coming!” he gasped, pressing his hand to his chest to slow the bleeding. 

Clark disappeared into a cloud of smoke again and appeared beside you. 

“I told you to stay put,” he growled,  back to his more humanoid form. 

“How could I?” you asked, and his face shifted from annoyance to soft concern. 

“Ready the carriage!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the mansion. “Quickly!” 

Servants appeared from seemingly nowhere, hurriedly packing bags and rallying the horses. 

“We need to leave now,” he informed you, pulling you by your elbow out the door. 

As you passed, you stared at Harri, who was panting in the dirt. 

“(Y/N) please! Whatever he’s told you is a lie!” he shouted at you, his voice losing its volume at the end. “You belong to me! You love me! That changeling has bewitched you!” 

His golden skin was going gray, and his chest heaved. You turned away from him, finding it hard to have sympathy for a man who’d thrown you into a stove the moment he returned home. Clark cradled your head as if to shield you in his arm as he led you to the carriage his staff was preparing. 

“Is he going to die?” you whispered when he’d settled you on the lacquered black carriage bench. 

He plopped down next to you, slapping the side, and you heard the driver click at the horses to drive them forward. 

“Not likely, unfortunately,” he snarled. “The bastard is half ogre. They heal quickly. He’ll tell his father I tried to murder him, however. Which is why we need to leave.”   

“How could the other (Y/N) decide to marry that guy?” you murmured, utterly confused. “He’s horrible.” 

“I don’t understand it either,” Clark said quietly, stroking your head with his arm wrapped around you. “As I said, the old (Y/N) was troubled.” 

He brightened a bit, smiling at you. 

“But you have a whole new life ahead of you, darling,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to live in her past. I should have never let you stay in this village in the first place. You don’t belong here.” 

You gave him a wan nod, leaning into his warm chest. There was so much happening around you that you didn’t understand, but Clark felt like an anchor in the storm. 

“Will they come after us?” you asked, and he shrugged. 

“I bespelled the carriage,” he said. “They cannot see us. You are safe.” 

“But what about all your things?” you asked. “Your laboratory?”

He smiled at you. 

“All of those things can be replaced,” he said. “Your life is far more important. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

“Where are we going?” you ventured, and he looked thoughtful. 

“To the coast, then we’ll take a ship out of Merida,” he explained. “Across the sea, there’s a province named Ilirion where you will be safe. Enough questions; you need to rest.” 

The last four words were said in an odd lilt, and you felt your eyes getting heavy. You notched your head in the crook of his neck, and his arm wrapped around you. You fell asleep, the spicy smell of incense filling your breath. 

#isekai #monster boyfriend #monster boy #changeling #monster x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere fluff #monster fluff #monster lover #monster romance #monster x girl #yandere smut #yandere #female reader #fem reader #x female reader #x reader smut

[random-fandom-inserts]

Oswald

After your hippogriff injures his wing, you send a letter to your old friend Newt Scamander, asking for help. Will it spark up old feelings?

Newt Scamander x F!Reader

My first fic with him, so I apologize if it’s bad but for the release of Hogwart’s Legacy, I felt the need to try💖

He hasn’t seen or heard from you in years. Ever since you guys left Hogwarts, contact with each other kind of faded. You’ve been busy with magical beasts, like him, going to remote locations to do so, even discovering a new one. As a Ravenclaw, he knows that your studies matter before all else, but Newt hoped that you guys would keep some sort of contact.

Of course, he could’ve sent you something, but he was too nervous.

Newt had a crush on you back when you guys were fifth years. You seem to care for creatures just like he did. He’s always wanted to say something, but he was too shy. Then you guys grew up and Newt became busy with his own work. Right now, he was back in America after his brother pulled some tough strings to allow him to travel internationally again.

“What’ll it be this time Newt?” Jacob asked his friend from behind the counter. The magizoologist was in the bakery, leaning against the counter with his case by his feet. Deep in thought, he jumped a bit at the voice.

“O-Oh...just the usual, Jacob.” Newt said while also bending down to clip shut one of the locks on his case, which flipped open for a second,

“Oh come on. But that’s so boring.” The man before him tried to push Newt to get something else, anything that he has put more time into, but the wizard wouldn’t have it.

“My usual, please.” Newt said while flashing a tiny smile. Jacob just sighed before grabbing him a blueberry muffin. He grabbed the baked good and began to unwrap when the sudden sound of something hitting the window startled both him, Jacob, and every other customer in the building. Turning around, Newt recognized your owl sliding down the glass. 

He quickly rushed outside, where your owl had come to its senses. The bird fluffed its feathers a bit as Newt offered his arm as a perch. The owl flew up there and landed, and that’s when the wizard realized there was a note tied to its leg. 

With shaky hands, he undid and read the letter...

“Newt! Where are you going?” Jacob voiced when the wizard rushed back into the bakery and grabbed his suitcase before rushing out again. Your owl has since vanished.

“I need to get to Scotland.” Newt replied, not stopping his gait. As he left the store, Jacob continued to follow, mumbling “Scotland” under his breath with a confused face. However, as he was wondering about that, Newt was already far ahead of him.

“Wait! Newt! Aren’t you gonna pay-” Jacob called out, but Newt had pulled out his wand and apparated.

“...Never mind.” He then mumbled before walking back into his bakery, trying to calm the public down while also generating loud excuses as for what just happened...

Newt landed in a forest. Based on the smell and surrounding vegetation, he would say that he reached his destination. Your letter said that you would be in this area, so he began walking. It didn’t state much besides that you had an injured creature on your hands. He didn’t know what he would be walking into, but at least his case would have everything that he might need. A small chirp in his pocket made him look down to see a dazed and confused Pickett.

“Sorry about that Pickett. Nearly there I believe.” Newt said to the bowtruckle, looking down. 

Around a half hour or so, Newt left the cover of the trees and found himself on a dirt path. Upon following it for a bit, he was led to a grassy clearing that had a broken-down wooden cabin and barn. But that wasn’t what caught his attention and stole his breath away.

An onyx-colored hippogriff was laying in front of the barn with you by its side, gently stroking its feathers.

“H-Hello Y/N...” Newt said nervously, catching your attention. You looked over at him and it stole his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as all those years ago if not more so.

“It’s good to see you again Newt.” You said softly, smiling a bit. The hippogriff next to you lifted its head, noticing the wizard. Newt set his case down and lowered his body slightly in a bow, but the hippogriff didn’t seem to care as it got to its feet and hissed at him.

“Oswald! Stop!” You shouted at the beast as he clawed at the ground. Newt bowed even more in hopes it would appease the hippogriff and keep it from attacking, remaining calm as he did so. 

But as the hippogriff spread open his wings to show dominance, he squawked in pain before falling back to his feet, where you began to pet him again.

“What happened to him?” Newt asked, concern for your beast overtaking any nervousness he has around you. Upon further inspection, he realized that the hippogriff’s left wing was bent awkwardly. You scootched a bit so he could crouch down next to you.

Close to you.

“He likes to fly, but I can’t always be with him. One time when he went out, he didn’t return for a while. Finally came back, but on foot. I noticed the wing and how his behavior changed each time I touched it.” You explained to him, keeping Oswald calm as Newt examined it. Your hippogriff seemed to calm down, sensing now that you trust this man to help him.

“I’m not to good with injured beasts, especially wings, I thought that you would know what to do...and I knew it would be nice to see you again.” You said with a smile, petting Oswald’s flank as the hippogriff shut his eyes. Newt nearly stopped breathing at your words but managed to compose himself for the sake of the injured creature in front of him.

“Yes, me too, I also am...I mean, I do know how to help him.” Newt struggled with his words, causing you to giggle a bit and his face to flush red.

A bit of prodding and beak-snapping later, Newt managed to secure and set your hippogriff’s wing. Give him around a month or more, and he’ll be back up in the skies in no time. A broken wing was indeed the culprit.

“Oswald...is he yours?” Newt asked as he watched the hippogriff sniff and bite at the work that was done on his wing. You were shoving his head away each time but nodded to answer the question.

“I saved his life and in turn...he saved mine.” It was all that you told him, and Newt didn’t pry. He knows that look in your eyes because he’s had it himself. Oswald was taken by poachers, probably like some other hippogriffs that weren’t so lucky. Newt didn’t even want to imagine what he looked like before you saved him.

Perhaps you could tell him the full story some other time.

“Anyway, what’s been up with you?” Your tone changed from one of sad to one of joy, and the smile was back on your face. Newt has been waiting for a chance to catch up with you, and here it was. He told you all about his travels, America, and so forth. All the creatures he discovered, Pickett popping out to say hello at this point, making you giggle. In turn, you’ve told him how busy you’ve been exploring and studying creatures. He was eager to hear about the new creature you discovered. Tanukisunes (created by yours truly), name meaning something along the lines of “tricksters”, which resembled foxes with multiple tails while having beautiful navy blue fur. Apparently, they like to trick travelers and steal their belongings, guiding them off the path until they are utterly lost. But they aren’t cruel, guiding the lost traveler back to their path after they’ve had their fun-granted, with some items missing.

“Sounds like they’d get along well with my niffler.” Newt said and you laughed, nodding. The two of you then watched Oswald, who has now gotten on his feet, eyeing the both of you, but Newt in particular, this stranger who you seemed to trust.

You guys watched as the hippogriff took a couple steps forward. Ready to intervene, you stood up, Newt mimicking your actions. However, Oswald did something you weren’t expecting.

He bowed.

“It seems Oswald has taken a liking to you after all. Trusts you as much as I do.” You said softly to Newt, causing the wizard to smile to himself at your words. He seemed to shift on his weight as your hippogriff got to his feet. Newt was nervous about something he was going to ask.

“I-I���m happy to hear that about Oswald because...” He hesitated a bit, swallowing nervously.

“Yes?” You urged him gently. Oswald walked over and nudged his shoulder, encouraging the wizard slightly. Pickett poked his head out and began to chatter incoherently, trying to persuade Newt to speak up. He was grateful for the creatures, feeling comfort from their actions.

“Because it’s not safe out here, and...I think it would be best for me to keep an eye on Oswald...j-just until his wing heals so...maybe you could come with me? There’s room.” Newt offered before gesturing towards his case. He was expecting you to hesitate before saying you were too busy, but you just smiled.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make any woman’s heart soar. Pickett chattered in delight, causing you to give him an odd look with a smile. Newt covered up the bowtruckle and gently shoved him back in his pocket. Oswald nuzzled you and you pet his beak in response. 

“You’re very sweet, you know that?” You told him with a blush on your face.

“It’s because of you Y/N...always.” Newt told you, smiling softly. Oswald gave you guys looks before swishing his tail a bit, wanting to get on his merry way with you guys. So, Newt opened his case, and the hippogriff took a running leap into it, disappearing inside the larger space hidden within. Relief went in you to know he was safe now.

“After you.” He said politely.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased lightly before going into the case. However, before you disappeared entirely, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you so much.” You whispered lovingly, and then you went in, the case clicking shut behind you. 

Newt was glad you vanished because you missed the lovestruck smile that he couldn’t wipe off his face. And knowing that you might care for him back made him a bit giddy. However, he was mostly relieved to know that you and your hippogriff were safe and sound with him. It was creatures that introduced you guys to each other, and now it was creatures that brought you together again. In the end, maybe creatures will bring you guys together for good.

But for now, Newt knows he has to return to America, with you in tow this time.

He still has to pay Jacob for that muffin.

#fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts imagines #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander imagine

[ashdreams2023]

Helloooo can I ask for Loki x autistic reader where reader has a meltdown because they’re really overstimulated. And reader gets kinda snappy at him because of it? Pls fluff tho. Sending love!!!

Cape

You’re breathing was getting rigged as time passed, too many people were talking around you and so close for your comfort.

The pathway to the exit was closed by groups and important people.

You should’ve stayed in your room but you didn’t want to be left out, so here you in an outfit that felt too uncomfortable after a few hours of wearing it and shoes that hurt your feet.

"Try this, it taste sweet!" Then came Loki holding yet another colorful cocktail that most likely gonna get him too wasted to realize what’s happening around him, for the god of mischief he sure was a lightweight.

"I don’t want to" You grumbled steering away from the glass cup.

"But it tastes great! It’s colorful and isn’t disgustingly bitter like the rest" Loki kept pushing and that seemed to be your last straw at that point.

"Are you deaf?! No means no get it inside your thick skull!" You breathed heavily and then stormed out the place before anyone can see you break down even more.

Loki stood there stunned for a few seconds, he heard whispers but ignored them and immediately ran after you, it wasn’t your nature to just snap at anyone like that much less him.

He follows you until you threw yourself on the one of the empty sofas in the guests room and cried hitting your fist on the pillows.

"Dove…"

"Go away! Everything is so loud! I don’t want to be touched and these clothes Ugh!"

Loki dropped his arms and stared at you, it made sense, he was also skeptical about you attending tonight but also this was your choice, and he couldn’t tell you what to do.

He looked at the bright lights in the room then swiftly with a tap of his fingers they dimmed down, then he went down on his knees beside you, he took off your shoes, noting that your pulled away slightly from him.

Your feet were sweaty and red, no wonder you were all fidgety.

Loki sat down on the floor then sighed "sweatpants or my cape?" He asked, you didn’t respond immediately but after a couple of sniffs and finally looking his way you spoke "Cape" it almost came as a whisper but he heard you loud and clear.

Within second your clothes disappeared and his soft warm cape fell on your skin smoothly like a feather.

A sigh immediately escaped your lips and he chuckled laying his hand flat on your back "Better?"

"…yes." Loki didn’t say anything for a couple of long minutes, he let your breathing regulate again and the color come back to your face.

"I’m sorry…didn’t mean to be rude to you"

"It’s ok, I understand, I used to hate the Asgardian galas that father did, everyone would get drunk and play rough games, I counted the seconds until it was over"

"I see, do you hate the parties here too?"

"No…not as much anyways, the drinks tastes better and I have you around"

"Even when I ruin your fun?" you sat up pulling his cape over your body.

Loki smiled at you with nothing but adoration "there is no fun without my love" then he got closer and planted a kiss on each of your tear stained cheeks "Now are you hungry?"

You smiled softly and nodded your head "Starving"

"Pasta?"

"Sounds perfect"

#imagine #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu loki #loki/y/n #headcanon #loki layfeyson x reader #Loki laufeyson x gender neutral reader #loki fanfic #loki god of mischief #marvel loki #loki layfeyson x you #loki laufesyon x reader #loki friggachild #loki friggason #loki fluff #loki comfort

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

#yandere #neige lubanche #neige leblanche #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

[thewritetofreespeech]

Touch your Wings - Obey Me

Lucifer

“Can I touch your wings?”

“I beg your pardon?” Lucifer asked back, gob smacked, in response to your question.

“Your wings. Can I touch them?” You repeat. Hoping for a little more clarity.

“No.” He replied emphatically. “Why would you want to touch my wings [Y/N]?”

You shrug; a little crestfallen now. “I don’t know. They just seemed so fluffy and soft.” Lucifer did not seem swayed. “I just wanted to touch them once. Sorry if that was weird, or too personal.”

You didn’t have wings, but maybe it was like touching someone’s intimate spots. Not something you should just ask off hand. Maybe you had crossed the line with Lucifer this time.

There was a sigh. Then a shift in the air. When you looked up Lucifer had his wings out and presented, not pulled to the side like he normally did when he was sitting. “Do so if you must. I don’t see the appeal.” You smile at getting your wish, and hesitantly reach out to touch his wings.

They’re not ‘fluffy’ as you suspected. The feathers were more sleek, and silk like. They were certainly soft. You run your wings over the row of feathers like gently cascading over the strings of a harp. You feel them shake against your finger tips and realize it wasn’t the feathers that were shaking, but Lucifer’s whole body with a shiver.

“That’s enough.” He said. Pulling his wings back in and concealing them. Unable to conceal the tint on his cheeks though.

Your own cheeks flush as realize that this may have been very…intimate. But Lucifer let you do it still.

“Was it all you had hoped for?” He asked. To which you smile softly before your reply.

“Oh yes. It certainly was.”

Mammon

“Can I touch your wings?”

The sound of Mammon slurping his iced coffee suddenly stopped and he turned to you. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I just realized I never touched them before.” You tell him with a shrug. “I though it would be cool.”

“Y-Yes, my wings are very cool.” Mammon replied. Choosing to hear what he wanted out of your reasoning. “But they’re only for admiring. Like the rest of me. I’m a work of art [Y/N]. So look don’t touch.”

You frown at Mammon’s bravado and sip your own coffee. “What? Is it gonna hurt or something?”

The demon balked. “N-No…!” He insisted. “It wouldn’t hurt…..” His cheeks suddenly turned rather red. Before you had time to asking what that was about, Mammon suddenly changed into his demon form in the blink of an eye and shouted, “just get it over with!”

You almost don’t want to do it now. But, he had gone through the trouble of transforming for you. So you figured you might as well touch them since this seemed the only chance you’ll ever get it done.

Mammon seemed ridged as a board as you reached towards him. You’d never seen him so nervous. Your finger tips brush against the waxy material of his bat like wings. Almost skin like. You realize now, looking very closely at them, that they also changed color. Flecks of gold flicker up under your finger tips as they caress up to the wide spines at the top. It disappeared quickly, but you were fascinated by the shaped and patterns you could draw out.

“Ok! That’s enough!” Mammon snapped, along with snapping his fingers closed, and quickly shifted back. His face bright red now, and seeming to be breathing kind of heavy for someone who had just been standing there. “S-Satisfied??”

You blink once, then smirk at the other, as you realize what was going on. “Yeah. I’m satisfied.” You reply, before taking a step closer to whisper quietly to him, “do you want to head up to your room so you can be too?”

Asmo

“Can I touch your wings?”

“Awwww….[Y/N]~! So kinky!”

Your face goes beet red at his response. Yes, it was Asmo, and he was always saying scandalous things to get a rise out of you. But you also feel like you had crossed some sort of demon privacy line. “F-Forget it!”

“What?! Wait [Y/N]! I was only kidding. You can touch them if you want.”

You feel like you’re being tricked into something (even though you asked for this). Asmo quickly shifted into his demon form. His wings almost curling into a heart behind his back before they fluttered out. “Don’t be shy!”

You suppose you had asked for this. So you might as well follow through.

The demon waited patiently with a smile as you reached out to touch his wings. You were surprised at the feel of them. Despite looking bat like from a distance they felt sort of like….velvet under your fingertips. Surprisingly soft and luxurious, although you shouldn’t be so surprised with it being Asmo.

“Mmmmm….[Y/N]….”

Your hand snapped back when you heard Asmo moan. His eyes closed. Seeming to lean in a little too much to your touch. “That’s it I’m done.”

“Wait? What!” Asmo replied in alarm. Realizing you had not only stopped but were calling it quits. “Wait [Y/N]! Just a little longer. Having you touch my wings is an ecstasy I never thought possible. Come back [Y/N]!”

Beel

“Can I touch your wings?”

The question was so left field, that it even stopped Beel mid-chew. “Why would you want to touch them?” He asked after swallowing.

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly. “I just realized I never had before, and just wanted to.”

Beel seemed uncomfortable for a moment, and even sat his sandwich down. “I don’t….like my wings.”

It was your turn to be surprised. You’d never known that about Beel, and no one had ever mentioned it to you before. He was usually so confident about his body. It never occurred to you that he might not like something about it. “Why don’t you like them?”

“They’re ugly.” He responded immediately. “Lucifer and everyone have nice wings. They look cool. Or cute. Or strong. Mine look like an ugly bug. An ugly, disgusting bug.” He picked up his sandwich again and took another bite out of it, but didn’t seem to enjoy it at all.

You reached out and touched his shoulder. “I don’t think your wings are ugly.” You told him. “I think they’re unique. I only wanted to touch them because they’re apart of you. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t know you felt that way about them. I’m sorry.”

Beel turned away from you again towards his food. Only this time to pick at it. “You…think they’re unique?” His voice sounded hopeful.

The demon rolled his shoulders back as he shifted into his demon form. Taking the weight of his wings on his back. “If you want, you can touch ‘em.”

You almost don’t want to. Feeling like you had pressured Beel into this. But you were also afraid that if you didn’t touch them, that would just confirm his fears. Which were completely false.

Sure, they weren’t as traditionally beautiful as Lucifer’s or the others, but they were still beautiful. Being more insect like, they had a clear appearance through the dark veins of the wings. And when the light hit them, they looked like stained glass through a window. “I think your wings are very cool and beautiful Beel. Just like you.”

The red head turned back to you. His cheeks red, and his eyes looking uncharacteristically bright in the lighting.

Suddenly his arms were around you. Knocking you down off your seat on to the floor as he held you close. “B-B-Beel!”

“Thank you [Y/N].” He said against your ear. His wings flittering happily behind him for what you can only assume was the first time in a long time.

Diavolo

“Can I touch your wings?”

Diavolo looked at you for a moment, and you realize that maybe that was an inappropriate thing to ask. “Yeah sure.”

“R-Really?” You ask back. Not expecting such a quick response. “Are you ok with people touching your wings?

“I don’t know. No one has ever tried before.” Diavolo answered.

You suddenly realize that no one had probably tried before because he was the defacto Demon King. No one would dare ask to touch him in such a candid, casual way. Suddenly you feel very silly, and a little terrified, for making such a request.

Diavolo, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Here you go!” He announced cheerfully. Having shifted into his demon form while you were fretting. His hands on his hips, with his wings spread wide.

You took a step closer and carefully touch the garnet color on the interior of his wings. It felt mesh like. Like the skin of a string ray you’d touched once at the aquarium as a child. Except instead of being cold and smooth, this felt warm and tactical. “I never realized how big your wings were.” You remark, taking them in at full expanse for the first time.

“Yeah. I suppose they do have a wide berth for some people. But they get a lot of distance in flight. And they’re good for one other thing.” You squeal very loudly as Diavolo’s wings suddenly clamp around you. Incasing you in a personal cocoon, while his arms wrapped around you and the prince chuckled in amusement at your alarm. “They’re great for catching prey.”

You pout up at him. Not really angry, but annoyed at his trick. “So I’m your prey now?”

“I genuinely think it’s the other way around.” He replied. Using the privacy of his wings to full advantage while he had you.

#obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #beel x reader #beelzebub x mc #beelzebub x reader #beel #lord diavolo #obey me diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #scenarios #imagine

[softboydrew]

morning tease

the sunlight sparkled through the sheer white curtains into the bedroom while she slept. Her chest rising and falling with ease as he stirred awake, taking him a moment to collect himself from his slumber.

He could hear her breathing from the spot next to him and he couldn’t help but plaster his boyish grin as he looked at her, right there next to him. Her hair was in disarray causing his cheeks to flush as he remembered what they had been up to previous hours before. Her face was a blotchy rose color that caused his hand to stoke her cheeks softly causing her to shudder next to him.

She didn’t dare open her eyes as she felt him move his body closer to hers, he was on his side now and she could feel his breath tickle as her ear as he bent down and pecked her jaw softly.

“Good morning” he whispered out, causing her to inhale sharply as she woke up to the feeling of his fingers tracing down, down down, under the covers between then.

Y/n pressed her lips together to keep herself from smiling as his fingers tranced just above the band if his shirts that she wore.

“I know your awake” he hummed deeply in satisfaction, honey dripping from his lips as he disappeared under the feathered comforter.

She opened her eyes know, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she looks down at where his body was hidden before her. Her toes curling as he situated himself between her legs, her chest rising as he gently spread her legs out before him.

He chuckled lightly as he noticed her stir above him as he pushed her shirts aside, dangerously slow. Causing her legs to tremble as they both realized she want wearing any panties. He hummed darkly as he lowered his head towards her heat, making y/n gasp once she felt his hot breath against her most intimate parts.

“I- I’m awake” she stuttered as he traced his index finger against her folds intoxicatingly slow.

“Already wet for me and you’ve just woken up. Did you dream about me?” He teased.

She shuddered, pressing her lips together and she squeezed her thighs against his head, playfully trapping his there between her legs.

His laugh vibrated against her body causing her to arch her back in instinct making her giggle. Embarrassment causing her to push his head away from her as he nipped at her inner thighs.

“I’m so sore. I don’t know if I can take it.” She admitted as he popped his head from under the sheets.

At this, he gave her a sincere smile. Kissing up to her knees as he pulled himself up her body so that he was now hovering over her, his fingers twisting through her locks. They both giggled lovingly at each other as they remembered the events from last night.

a cheeky tease from me to you xx

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #outer banks #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #y/n and drew aesthetic

[bonesofapoet]

heart under the gun

[ simon 'ghost' riley x you ]

author's note : the one where you're stuck in a safehouse and you just fucking pine for each other. language

word count : 703

There was always something magical about the world, once dusk arrived.

Even when it seemed the entire universe had fallen sideways, and your life had been placed on pause - if only temporarily - there remained, under the battered, stained surface of your story, an unmistakable awe that lingered at the fraying edges; a kind of raw beauty impossible to miss.

Even if you weren’t searching for it, if you weren’t mindful of it staring right back at you point blank, so aggressively close to your face - it seeped in through the cracks. Always, lately, when it was the least expected, and, honestly? When it was most unwelcome.

This evening was a stunning example, really.

The sun had begun its fall into the night, dipping down behind wispy clouds and tree branches that reached tall and desperate, if only to feel the last kiss of the sun’s dying rays until dawn. Golden fingers fell through the canopies of their leaves scattered along the property, painting the ground in shadowed filigree patterns across tall, deep green grass.

Those wispy clouds had gone from feather gray and lily white to become beautifully stained with the palette of the sunset. Golds, deep oranges and radiant mauves were shining bright where the colors blended with the deepening violet of the sky above.

And yet, up is not where you were looking this time.

He was illuminated in the glow of stray sunbeams, rocking gently on the porch swing hidden around an alcove on the front porch - a charming detail that set this particular safehouse apart from the rest - in time with the gentle breeze. It ruffled the pages of the book held open in one hand - gloved, always - while the other remained draped across the back, next to him.

It had jarred you, the first few days the two of you had been here, just how peaceful someone could look when removed from the harshness of the field. The contrast of something so simple as quiet. . .it was different here. Everything was. Now, though, you had come to learn that this was just Simon being Simon. He had shed the skin of Ghost, slowly, if not hesitantly, the longer you were holed up far away from any front line.

The mask, however, was not so quickly cast aside.

Regardless, that didn’t stop you from admiring how Simon looked in the sunlight instead of shadows.

“You gonna keep fuckin’ starin’ at me, or can I help y'with something?”

Fuck.

Your recovery was quick, if not a little rushed, when you realized his brown eyes had risen from the pages to narrow at you instead.

“Yeah, Riley, you can fuckin’ help me with something," you snort for good measure. “Take your fuckin’ tea before I burn the shit outta my hand, would ya?”

He sees through it, anyway.

“Give it ‘ere, then,” gloved fingers wiggle in your direction, the arm draped across the swing reaches toward you.

You step to fill the remaining gap, the sun’s tendrils of gold slipping over you as you do. Bright flashes blinded you through the trees as you held a steaming mug out towards Simon. Gloved fingers brushed gently, quickly, over your own.

While you were busy trying not to drop the mug or go blind - permanently, this time - Simon’s eyes hadn’t left you. The descending sun had gifted you with a halo, bright, bold, and oh, so divinely ethereal he had to focus on his breath, had to tighten his grip on the mug, the book, had to feel the solid wood of the weathered bench beneath him to stay grounded because -

Fuckin’ Christ, he couldn’t look away.

Simon Riley had never been a religious man, but seeing you all glowing golden radiance inspired him to fall to his knees and pray.

He didn’t know what the fuck he’d say, didn’t even know if you would answer whatever fell through his lips, but he knows he’s never seen you like this.

Relaxed. Peaceful. Makin’ him tea just how he liked it, for no fuckin’ reason. You’ve done that often enough in the past couple of weeks that he knew it wouldn’t be scalding, wouldn’t be burnt or too strong. None of that extra, frilly shit would be tainting it either.

That’s something he liked about you. How you paid attention to the people you cared about -

Simon freezes. Oh.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #i am feral for this man #kas writes